#so i need to take $150 out of my ass to give to him because he cant wait a few more days for his shit done

[fyeahghosttrick]

THE PROMPTS!

Behold: the list! More than 150 prompts ripe for the taking! Now everyone can pick something cool (even if you didn't submit anything) (no need to claim it anywhere) and start drawing it or writing it or any other creative verb of your liking. Next stop: June 19th, when we’ll all post together to celebrate GT’s original anniversary (there will be a reminder with brief posting instructions).

Prompts are numbered for your convenience, in the order they came in. The block divisions are just because tumblr gets twitchy about long numbered lists

Retroactive fills can be posted here!

And now, without further ado:

BLOCK A

Yomiel having a grand time using his powers before the events of the game start, with Sissel.

Cute Sissel (maybe with a nice bow or something?)

Sissel and Missile hanging out.

Yomiel post-game after prison as Kamila's tutor.

Sissel (pre or post game) stealing fish from the fishmongers!

Memry x Lynne, as a cute couple.

Ace Attorney x Ghost Trick crossover!

Hatsune Miku in the world of Ghost Trick, maybe being a virtual singer allows her to travel through phone lines etc.?

carlyraejepsans - Lynne trying to get Sissel to help her cheat at cards or at a tabletop game. Sissel refuses (he's already in cahoots with Kamila)

carlyraejepsans - Beach episode. Can be both art or writing but if it's art I want Cabanela in the most ridiculous swimming fit you can think of. I'm talking 1920s. I'm talking speedo and pool goggles. I'm talking trunks with a print of his own face on the ass. Do your worst.

carlyraejepsans - The Lynne design we all know and love but rocking the white suit from her first concept art.

carlyraejepsans - Anything with baby Lynne and baby Sissel. My pookies…

carlyraejepsans - New timeline, young Lynne. I keep coming back to the idea of her learning that the kidnapper also saved her life. And that dissonance with her initial idea of him in her mind causing her to be less avoidant about what happened, and looking for answers independently in true Lynne fashion. Cue the world's most determined 13yo girl trying at all costs to get an audience with a condemned felon, much to Yomiel's chagrin. How would the meeting go? Or maybe she fails but ends up running into Fiansissel instead. What would they think about each other?

carlyraejepsans - Give! Lynne! Nightmares!! Give! Lynne! Nightmares!!! that sweet sweet hurt no comfort (or with, if sissel happened to be ghost hopping by?). bonus points if they're nightmares about drowning/the lost timeline and there's just something she can't… quite… put her finger on… scratching at the back of her brain like a cat begging to be let in

carlyraejepsans - No reset (the circumstances of their survival from the Yonoa at your discretion), main game timeline setting. Jowd beginning to reconnect with Kamila after his release from prison and realizing he doesn't really know her anymore (she's grown so much). He still has to try. He owes her at least that.

carlyraejepsans - Cabanela and the Professor. Cabanela's reaction after they decided to work together and the Professor showed him his recreation of Kamila's doohickey for the first time. Judging by his original report to the Justice Minister, he thought the manipulator used Jowd specifically. How did he react when the penny dropped that it was actually Kamila (and Jowd's motive finally clicked into place)

frogpotat - Jeego and Tengo having a sibling rivalry

frogpotat - Memry working undercover at a new job

frogpotat - Bailey and Bailey's coworker getting up to some shenanigans in their off-time

frogpotat - Ghost Trick + Pokémon crossover

frogpotat - Ghost Trick + Five Nights at Freddy's crossover

frogpotat - Ghost Trick + Ace Attorney crossover

frogpotat - Sissel and Missile sneak out of the house to explore

frogpotat - The Chicken Kitchen is an illegal front

Lynne in full plate armour with a longsword (because that's awesome)

what if cat sissel become human and look same as yomiel and they live together what will happen?(no couple or only cat sisselXyomiel)

what if the police give up yomiel's case and bury his body, yomiel(in cat) meet fiancee sissel in the graveyard.

(GT X DC)He found he was died and lost his memory，then he find a police( wataru) is calling him Conan and get shot in front of him.

yomiel in 10 years before(conan) meet other yomiel in different timeline/au.

one day yomiel can do mind reading but he doesn't know every other can read his mind.

(persona）yomiel's phantom thief suit.or a take-your-heart story.

yomiel and cabanela and jowd cooperate to solve a case(could be a acquittal au)

yomiel is good at a lot of things ,especially computer and …… dessert?!

the-grey-hunt: ghost trick crossover/mashup with your favorite niche media of choice

the-grey-hunt: kitten sissel, or kitten-sized sissel after the epilogue, doing cat things (playing with toys, hanging out with other cats, etc)

the-grey-hunt: yomiel's good days after getting out of prison

the-grey-hunt: angst injury/coma. i want someone bleeding, limp, and vulnerable while other characters try to tend to them. can be frantic trying to help them off the scene, OR them recovering from a treated injury!

the-grey-hunt: any of the main cast in different outfits! pajamas, fancy dress, cosplay, anything—as long as it's distinct from their canon clothing.

the-grey-hunt: One thing you would change about the epilogue

the-grey-hunt: fiansissel and alma being friends

the-grey-hunt: Fanon/headcanon family members—cousins, parents, siblings, etc of our canon characters who simply were never mentioned or turned up on-screen in the canon game!

sunnyaliceart - Jowd, Lynne, Cabanela hair care routine

sunnyaliceart - new timeline, Kamila and Amelie playdate and Kamila shows off how special Sissel is

sunnyaliceart - Kamila and Lynne sister bonding, Missile and kitty Sissel included are a huge plus

sunnyaliceart - Cabanela, Pigeon Man, and Lovey Dove interactions. Specifically, during the time they were working on the Manipulator Case, but new timeline is also very much welcomed

sunnyaliceart - Fiansissel, Alma, and Emma being best friends gossiping about their husbands

sunnyaliceart - Post-Game Yomiel and Jowd friendship fluff, both using mobility aids (wheelchair, cane, and/or crutches), kitty Sissel is there to help both of them

sunnyaliceart - Post-Game everyone eating at the Chicken Kitchen, specifically: Lynne, Kamila, Jowd, Cabanela, Alma, Pigeon Man, kitty Sissel, Missile, Yomiel and Fiansissel. That's a lot of characters, so I understand doing a smaller set, but the ones listed are the ones I'd most like to see if you prefer to choose

sunnyaliceart - Ghost Trick, but furry. Fantasy animals like unicorns and dragons are also options

youghostandyoutrick - Fandom fusion! Put anyone from the Ghost Trick cast into another fictional universe, as though they originated from that universe. Ghost Trick elements (like Temsik and how ghosts work) can be adapted for the new universe however you see fit.

youghostandyoutrick - Postcanon Yomiel, preferably with a mobility aid, enjoying life after prison with FianSissel. What do they like to do together? Is it something they used to do before, and if so, has the way they’ve always done things had to change?

youghostandyoutrick - Pigeon Man and Cabanela, looking into Temsik. How is their research going?

youghostandyoutrick - FianSissel interacting with any other member of the main cast, pre- or post-canon. Does it go well, poorly, or strangely?

youghostandyoutrick - Lynne and Sissel working together as partners post-canon. What exactly does Lynne need his help with?

youghostandyoutrick - Possession! Yomiel needs to accomplish something, and possessing someone is how he chooses to go about it. What is he doing, how does it go, and does he succeed?

planehabitat - pet swap AU :-) the main human cast as whatever animals you think fit them, and with missile & sissel as humans

planehabitat - cabanela tricking out his bike! (ex. front basket for sissel / missile, spoke beads from kamila, stickers)

metalfaceirl - cabanela hitting the griddy (art)

metalfaceirl - cabanela using brainrot speak, everyone is horrified

metalfaceirl - sissel meets akane zero escape (if you know you know)

metalfaceirl - yomiel meets shulk xenoblade (if you know you know)

metalfaceirl - yomiel DRIP (art)

metalfaceirl - lynne and kamila go to hot topic

metalfaceirl - sissel goes to the backrooms

metalfaceirl - jowd skateboarding

BLOCK B

mariteria — lynne & sissel stuck in a zero escape escape room…

Jellyjack Cheese — Some Uncle Yomi content 👁️👁️

Yomiel attempting to wear different types of headwear in new and exciting ways. (his hair is quite the obstacle! how would he wear a helmet? a beanie?? even worse - a hood?!)

Ghost Trick Characters with hairstyles different from the usual (lynne with open hair, Camila with braids, Jowd with long hair, etc go crazy)

Yomiel attempting to do work on his computer while Cat Sissel is on the keyboard

Crossover with Pokemon, Yomiel as a team Flare member.

critter-ghosting-some-tricks, The ghost trick cast as dragons or dragon riders

Jowd clearly thought things would have been better if he had been shot instead of Alma- but what do you think that would have looked like?

critter-ghosting-some-tricks, New timeline- Jowd and his family go camping,

critter-ghosting-some-tricks, Since the events of the game, Jowd finds himself strangely drawn to the sea. Can be hurt/comfort or supernatural or haunting or scary or sad or reflective or any combination. I dunno, it’s an idea I’ve had for a long time but would want to see other interpretations of the concept.

In Ray’s timeline, Emma learns of her husband’s heart attack. And/or in the new timeline she remembers what she could have lost

a look into recovery- particularly Yomiel and Jowd physically and mentally finding their place in their new lives

critter-ghosting-some-tricks If Kamila and Lynne where not there in the submarine but Sissel and Yomiel where, what would their conversation(s) look like?

Jowd runs away from his family in the new timeline, overwhelmed. He is too scared to truly break something to be planning on staying away forever but his family aren’t as sure.

critter-ghosting-some-tricks, Jowd gets paint on one of his favorite shirts or breaks something. He is quick to decide that it is ruined and useless. He doesn’t understand why Cabanela is so quick (and desperate) to convince him that it is worth saving until his wife joins in and he realizes that it isn’t about an object anymore. It’s about him.

This one enters personal HC territory, but Yomiel with brown hair. His blond hair is actually not his real hair color, but ever since the incident in the park, the dye's never worn off and has only begun to wear off in the new timeline.

The communication barrier between Yomiel and cat Sissel, I think. The struggle of wanting to help your owner, understand him more but you're just a cat.

silly, but lynne with a bucket of jollibee chicken joy

a little self indulgent, but my oc ana interacting with yomiel. i think it'd be interesting to see someone who's been wandering the earth for longer vs someone who's only been a ghost for 10 years. like looking into a mirror maybe, and being reminded of the parts about you that you don't really like. a mixture of spite and relief to know that you aren't the only ghost on this earth, but the dread of knowing you could live through centuries and not age at all. (sissel-posting /the0-b3ar)

how does sith know about ghosts and their ability to rewind time? has he ran into one? does his family have a long history tied with ghosts? is blue country just superstitious and has certain beliefs when it comes to ghosts?

yomiel and my fiansissel interactions. could be angsty, could be fluffy, could be a mix of both! - (sissel-posting/the0-b3ar)

DE and Ghost Trick crossover or AU! i always found it interesting how both games have amnesiac protagonists and also literally changed the direction of my life, but also curious to see what kind of skills/ghost tricks the respective characters would have from each game.

yomiel attempts to cook. everything goes wrong

OwlfaceNightkit - Yomiel manipulating or scaring Cabanela

OwlfaceNightkit - Yomiel manipulating Lynne and Cabanela being forced to watch

OwlfaceNightkit - Danny Phantom/Ghost Trick crossover

OwlfaceNightkit - Yomiel, Cabanela, or any other character as a dragon, art

OwlfaceNightkit - Cabanela and Jowd angst

OwlfaceNightkit - Something fluffy with Cabanela and Yomiel

OwlfaceNightkit - Something fluffy with Sissel and Yomiel

OwlfaceNightkit - Something angsty with Sissel and Yomiel

Loboazul16 - Transmasc Lynne!

Loboazul16 - Sissel being a cat menace

Loboazul16 - Some cute poly Jowd/Alma/Cabanela

siverwrites - the evergreen cuddles for Alma/Jowd/Cabanela (not NSFW)

siverwrites - Jowd orb and a ball. What else is Missile supposed to do but swap them?? (I'm thinking art but if this somehow triggers a fic idea that's cool too)

siverwrites - Alma knows about Sissel in the new timeline. Adjusting and learning to communicate with him takes some learning but it’s something she’s happy to work out with him

siverwrites - Jowd &/ Cabanela hurt/comfort in either direction or both

siverwrites - Sissel, Missile and Lovey-Dove: animal shenanigans!

siverwrites - Cabanela and Pigeon Man. Anything during that year working together or something in the new timeline? Just them being the weird friends they are brought together by the difficulty that is their Jowd

Disastrous cooking show with an unlikely host(s) of your choice. Chef Jovial Tenor is weeping in the audience.

Jeego/Rindge and Tengo/Memry roleswap. Nationalityswap optional.

Kamila's punk rock phase. This is C38's fault, somehow.

Lynne and Memry on a top-secret mission (non-ship)

The gang assigned/cast as Mouthwashing characters (memey/not as dark as it could be)

Fantasy AU with Jowd as a wish-granting genie

Yomiel (or Sissel?) the sunglasses model

Emma with alternative flower(s) for her hairstyle (art)

Trickingbell - The special investigation unit's Inspector and his leads Detective Memry and Detective Rindge as his eyes and ears on any case, art or writing, I just want to see these three together or their dynamic when working together!

Trickingbell - Jowd and Alma and their years of being in love, writing or art, shipping focused on Jowd and Alma but Cabanela can be there because they're all inseparable.

Trickingbell - Lynne and Memry detective rivals. Memry is very haughty over being an objectively better and longer working detective than Lynne who we all know had her test scores flubbed around by Cabanela, art or writing, no shipping between Memry and Lynne I'd love them protrayed as genuinely on bad terms

Trickingbell - Alma and Cabanela playing cards and gambling with play chips and if there's a spot then Kamila and Sissel are "referee" and the dealers, art, Alma is totally winning but Sissel can't help her win with ghosts tricks.

Trickingbell - Jowd and his cruelty done by the music box, art or writing, something angsty because the music box's possible effects on everyone if Jowd had succeeded in dying really really hurts me. Example being Lynne knowing that she had something that could've saved Jowd all along but she wasn't able to figure it out, causing this mix of pain and guilt and incompetence and so much because Jowd entrusted it to her, a very cruel thing for him to do.

Trickingbell - Sithmiel (General Sith x Yomiel), art or writing, ok listen you just gotta hear me out and see the tragedy and betrayal in this thing ok think of how Yomiel believed fully that Sith was going to help him, give him a new life with people who love him and will care if he dies, think about how lonely Yomiel was with only Kitty Sissel being his company and Sith being the first interaction in so long after Fiansissel too, he's lonely and desperate, Sith is all too happy to have a longing guy like that in his grasp PLEASE listen to me ok this is more propaganda than a prompt but please-

Trickingbell - Lynne and Cabanela listening to his (old man) music or just anything with Lynne and Cabanela as the focus I love them

Trickingbell - Cabanela and Kamila playing animal crossing new leaf together and sending each other letters, Art

alto-tenure - noir detective Lynne

alto-tenure - something with Rindge and Memry's friendship; maybe them going on an undercover mission as a duo? (no romance)

alto-tenure - Professor Layton crossover! Would prefer characters from the 3rd game, but other games are fine too.

alto-tenure - Somehow or another Sissel ends up on Rokkenjima's gameboard, and throws a massive wrench into the serial murders by preventing the deaths. (Umineko crossover; full spoilers a-okay with me!)

BLOCK C

mydeadmanstale - yomiel and cabanela, playing around with the idea of them being parallels to each other especially when it comes to their outfits

mydeadmanstale - kamila and amelie playing with sissel and missle

mydeadmanstale - human designs of cat sissel and missle being friends

mydeadmanstale - cabanela, jowd and alma in a lovely poly relationship

mydeadmanstale - mid game cabanela and yomiel, being mutually destructive lovers

mydeadmanstale - lovey dove and what powers she may have had if she was a ghost

mydeadmanstale - swap AU, missle swaps with sissel and lynne swaps with yomiel

mydeadmanstale - crossover AU, any of the ghost trick cast interacting with any of the detective conan cast

Post Game Lynne and Sissel being the goofiest goobers together

Lynne keeping her memories and adopting Kitten Sissel instead of Jowd

jorb-ponderer - jowd/yomiel of any flavour. there's just So Much Going On there

jorb-ponderer - the vibes of the submarine chapters are immaculate, i'd love anything from that part of the game. lynne & sissel teamwork, gun kamila, trash yomiel! etcetera… the wetter and worse a time, the better

jorb-ponderer - ALMA!! alma and kamila? or something poking at what her relationship with lynne might be? the buddies dynamic with emma she deserves? Alma in the spotlight all to herself, even?? anything you like

jorb-ponderer - beauty/memry my beloved crackship. femme fatale and the ruthless detective staking her out.(d'you think memry held a grudge in the timeline where beauty and dandy get away? i hope so)

Jowd/Cabanela having a boys’ weekend together, maybe something fluffy, maybe something spicy - up to the creator! (maybe something where Alma knows and lets them have their time together?) Art or fic is a-okay with me!

Jowd and Alma raising baby Kamila

Jowd doing some painting at Temsik Park

College aged Jowd, Cabanela, and Alma hanging out at a lake house/beach (burying someone in the sand, having a campfire, have fun with what they get up to)

Lynne and Kamila playing with Missile at Temsik Park

yunaffie - Jowd and/or Alma with baby Kamila

yunaffie - Older Kamila finally gets to communicate with Sissel

yunaffie - Pigeon Man and Cabanela during one of the Inspector's rare moments of vulnerability

yunaffie - Yomiel finishing blow pose, The Hundred Line style

yunaffie - Angel/Devil wings Yomiel

yunaffie - Kamila & Missile

tricking-and-ghosting - Sissel helping Kamila with her contraptions in the new timeline

tricking-and-ghosting - Lynne and Kamila doing sisterish things together--angsty or fluffy, either one

tricking-and-ghosting - Yomiel adapting to the daily challenges of living with mobility aids

tricking-and-ghosting - Alma and Fiansissel friendship

tricking-and-ghosting - Any of the ghosts have an encounter with ghost hunters/paranormal investigators from a more typical ghost story

azurefishnets - Alma/Cabanela/Jowd (or any /& subset therof) - Always and forever the OT3 of my heart, and I will happily devour anything that develops any facet of their happy poly triangle relationship (but please no infidelity). I love these three together, or doing things with just one of the others, but always with the knowledge that they are a threesome at heart, you know?

azurefishnets - Jowd & Pigeon Man - Just how did Jowd and the Pigeon Man get to know each other, anyway? Bonus point for incorporating the Jorb and PM's predilection for Rube Goldberg puzzles…

azurefishnets - Alma & Emma: Alma's job has been the source of much speculation and I like to think she's a secret cat burglar who is hired to test security at various important places, so here's the prompt: Alma is hired to test security at the Justice Minister's compound as a fake cat burglar, and runs afoul of Emma in some way. They probably know each other, distantly, so how will Alma manage to finish the job with reputation intact? Will Emma pass the security test? Will the Justice Minister ever recover?

azurefishnets - Alma & Lynne & Kamila - I will never accept non-Kamila-and-Lynne-sisterhood in the canon ending. Never!! Show me the REAL ending as regards them.

azurefishnets - Cabanela & Chicken Chef - See, I think they'd get along like a house afire. They both have a dramatic bent, so SURELY Cabanela and the owner of Jowd's favorite restaurant can come to an understanding in some way… even if it's via song! (…or a rap battle?!)

azurefishnets - Lynne/Memry - Love the two detective's protegees as rival odd girls with a certain "something" between them. A team-up? A rivalry gone awry? Go ham…er, I mean chicken?

azurefishnets - pet swap AU! Put a pet with a person and let some magic happen. What would have happened if Emma had a Lovey-Dove to help her write? What if Missile was hanging out with Rindge that fateful night? What if Sith had a pet rat instead of his adjutant? Just some of the many possibilities!

azurefishnets - eternal free square for the FFVI AU! https://archiveofourown.org/series/1196335 https://archiveofourown.org/series/1169099 For more information on the one we've already been working on, see the above links, otherwise however you want to experiment!

trash yomiel's body parts being stolen by missile (and sissel)

laughingmango - Cabanela looking stunning in a dress.

laughingmango - Jowd/Alma dynamic if Alma is as much of a weirdo as he is, maybe in a detached way, astonishingly out of touch, ivory tower academic sort of thing

laughingmango - Cabs tutoring Memry. Grounded and Sensible life advice only, ofc ofc

laughingmango - Between “I’m already married”, “that’s a man” and “that’s my best friend” (and/or something else still?), what’s the hardest thing for Jowd as he comes to terms with his attraction to Cabanela?

laughingmango - (art) Cast member(s) of your choice in classic FF job outfits (roughly FF3, 5, T, even 4HoL and/or Bravely Default styles)

laughingmango - Final Fantasy VI AU eternal free square for me as well. Borrowing azurefishnets’ links, https://archiveofourown.org/series/1196335 https://archiveofourown.org/series/1169099 For more information on the one we've already been working on, see the above links, otherwise however you want to experiment!

laughingmango - Jowd/Cabanela Slay the Princess AU, with protagonist Jowd and princess Cabs. How would they embody the (spoiler-free vague gesturing) thingssssss the protagonist and princess stand for? I think their unstoppable force/immovable object dialectic might work very well in this context.

laughingmango - Cast member(s) of your choice, Disco Elysium fusion. Put these people in Revachol or elsewhere in Elysium. If they meet DE characters, please no RCM members other than Harry a/o Kim.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.

Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”

It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.

And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.

Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.

You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”

“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.

The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.

Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”

The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.

She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”

The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.

He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”

But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”

Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”

The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”

Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.

“Look out!” She stage-whispers.

Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.

“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”

All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.

Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?

You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”

He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.

“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”

…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.

You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”

“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.

You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.

“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”

You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.

“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”

Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.

He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.

…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”

He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.

A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”

“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”

Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”

The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.

For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.

“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”

Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.

He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”

You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.

You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.

“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”

All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”

He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.

A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”

-

Ask to be added to my Leon taglist!

[petrssecrethideout]

"Bro, do you wanna hear about something crazy?"

"I mean sure, go ahead,"

"Alright, so I was just relaxing, scrolling TikTok,"

"Already a bad idea."

"I know, I got beef with that fuckin' algorithm let me tell you. I follow a couple of bodybuilders, post a couple of gym vids and suddenly my For you page is filled with the biggest assholes alive. Anyway, I'm scrolling, and I see this guy, he's doing that whole 'alpha top dog' thing even though he's not that big."

"Okay wait pause, how big is not that big?"

"I don't know, I have more muscle in my arms than he has in his whole body, real gym influencer type."

"Alright, for anyone listening to the pod at home, I should probably just say that this guy could be anywhere from 150-300 pounds from Dale's description of him, okay? He's not good at judging what normal guys look like anymore."

"Yeah, okay, you got me. Anyway, this guy keeps going on about his great advice, so I stick around to hear it. You wanna know what he said? 'Stop Cumming, its killing your natural testosterone' What kind of bullshit is that!?"

"I mean that is a big part of the current fitness world, these guys will say anything to get more followers, and a lot of their followers are so desperate for progress that they'll take whatever advice they're given."

"It's a shame, because he's also wrong! I tried that whole 'No Nut Whatever' and its been the only time in these last 5 years that I've plateaued."

"... Really?"

"Yeah! If I'm not cranking a load out every day I can kiss any potential gains goodbye."

"Wait,"

"Like after my workouts, when I got a huge pump going, I just have to crank one out, like what good workout would it be if I didn't"

"Dale c'mon,"

"And its not like I can just hit up a guy on Grindr and go to town every time I need to, there aren't enough guys on Grindr for that."

"Uggggh dude, we are never getting a sponsor with you talking like this."

"What, so all the straight alpha dudebros can talk about semen retnetion and get a ton of followers, but I get censored for talking about jacking off and getting tons of ass?"

"Yeah, we will."

"Well then, listeners, go subscribe to the patreon so that I can talk about my actual tips for growing, and so that you can help Mark get bigger. I'm telling you, I'm gonna make this boy huge with your help. Audio listeners make sure to check the videos so you can see this boy get huge. Now bro, help me out here. You don't want those Tiktok gymfluencers to win do you? How often are you jerkin off?"

"Oh god I can't believe I'm answering this... A couple of times a week maybe?"

"A week? That's fucking crazy. My average is like 4-5 times a day. More if I'm really feeling horny. If I'm being honest I jerked off a few weeks ago on the pod, like I forgot to before I came here. One of the comments mentioned something about my grunting that episode."

"Jesus christ dude, how do you even manage that?"

"Well, you gotta work up to it. I couldn't do that starting out, but once I started growing I was so horny I had to do something about it. I think that's what these guys don't get. You gotta get those balls working, give them a reason to keep making that sweet testosterone. How are you supposed to do that if you aren't jacking it? Honestly dude, I feel like I gotta prove these guys wrong now."

"What, you're gonna be a cum warrior?"

"Hell yeah man, I'm gonna be fighting the war on jerking it, on the side of jerking it!"

[multifandom-exe]

Prompt list :p

i did take this from my old account, but lots of the fics i write are based around this list. Contains: Angst (1-50) Fluff (51-100) sarcasm/humour (101-150) and drama (151-200)

if you wanna request something from this list, just use the character and ‘ prompt 34 from prompt list #2′ thank you! ill write for whoever you want mama.

Theres like 200 so be wary

“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”

“I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”

“Can you just shut your mouth ?”

“WHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”

“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”

“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?“

“I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”

"Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”

“You’re safe here, I got you.”

“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”

“Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”

“If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”

“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”

“SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”

“You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”

“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”

“You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!”

“What happened between us?”

“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”

“You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way”

“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”

“I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”

“I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”

“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“You never loved me, did you?”

“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“Your mind must be a horrible place.”

“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

“And I thought you loved me.”

“ And I thought I loved you.”

“ Aren’t you even going to cry?”

“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”

“Did you always know that you were going to leave?”

“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”

“I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.”

”If you wanna know, then ask.”

“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”

“We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”

“Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”

“When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

“It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.

“You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”

“Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

“You smell really nice.”

“Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

“I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”

“If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

“Here, let’s share the blanket.”

“You’re comfy.”

“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

“But I want to hear you sing.”

“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”

“Care to give me a back scratch?”

“I think I love you.”

“Your bed head is really cute.”

“How about a kiss?”

“You made this for me?”

Aw, you’re blushing.”

Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?”

“Let me help you with that.”

“I don’t want to forget this moment.”

“Are you really flirting with me right now?”

“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”

“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”

“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”

“No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”

“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”

“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”

“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”

“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “

“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”

“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.”

“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”

“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”

“It was always you.”

I love you in every possible way.”

“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”

“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.”

“Duck, you idiot!”

“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”

“Define normal.”  

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”  

“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”  

“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”  

“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.” 

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”  

“And you wonder why you’re still single.” 

“Remind me to kill you. Please.”  

“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?” 

“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”  

“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.” 

“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”  

“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”  

“My middle finger salutes you.”  

“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”  

“Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”  

“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”  

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”  

“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”  

“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.” 

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”  

“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”  

“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”  

“I need therapy after this.”  

“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”  

“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”  

“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”  

“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.” 

“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”  

“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”  

“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”  

“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”  

“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”  

“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”  

“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”  

“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”  

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”  

“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”  

“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”  

“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.” 

“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”  

“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”  

“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”  

“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”  

“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”  

“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.” 

“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.” 

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”  

“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”  

“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”

“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?” 

“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”  

“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.” 

“I know you lied to me.” 

“I’m not even sorry.” 

“You backstabber!” 

“I never want to see you again.” 

“You never mattered to me.” 

“I knew this was a bad idea.” 

“Rot in hell.” 

“It was supposed to be a secret!” 

“No one loves me.” 

“He/she/they is/are so petty…” 

“You made me cry.” 

“I don’t know who you are anymore.” 

“How DARE you?!” 

“I know you’re not talking to me…” 

“I SAW you with him/her/them!” 

“Just leave me alone.” 

"What did you do?!” 

“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.” 

“Just admit that was extra…” 

“I forgive, but I don’t forget.” 

“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?” 

“So what if I had sex with your ex?” 

“There’s something I have to tell you…” 

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.” 

“I never loved you.” 

“It’s too late.” 

“Quit ignoring me.” 

“Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!” 

“I love you. I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t want to be friends.” 

“Can we please pretend I never said that?” 

“Friendzoned again.” 

“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.” 

“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.” 

“I was there for you when no one else was!” 

“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.” 

“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.” 

“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…” 

“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.” 

“I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.” 

“When I said I loved you, I meant it.” 

“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?” 

“You were the one that left all those notes for me?” 

"You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.” 

“We agreed this was just physical!” 

“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.” 

UGh that was so long, props if you made it this far. No need to credit if you use any, but a like or reblog is appreciated

[reginaldqueribundus]

so I promised @hadrian-holiday I would post more pictures of my dumbass camelids, Oedipus and Reginald. Eddie is the big one, the llama. He's a rescue, he lost his ears to frostbite and came into our care because he was trying to kill his dad and bang his mom, which is how he got his name. Reggie (the alpaca, the smaller one) isn't a rescue, he just looks like he needs rescuing :)

here they are with our goat, Fabio. Fabio is a mix of the two largest goat breeds out there and also a huge fatass. he's like 150 lbs, he was raised for meat but then his original owner felt bad and gave him to my partner.

Eddie believes Fabio is his boyfriend. his much older, shorter, fatter boyfriend. mercifully, since getting castrated he has stopped trying to consummate the relationship (Fabio was entirely indifferent to his affections but 300 lbs of amorous llama is a lot for an elderly goat's kneecaps) but the dynamic playing out in my yard is rather like if Chris Hemsworth was dating Danny DeVito. Reginald, for his part, despises Fabio but can't really do much about it without provoking the wrath of Oedipus, something Fabio takes advantage of to bully Reggie at every opportunity.

“but Samuel, why do you have a such a motley assortment of livestock” well you see our other goat died and Fabio was so lonely we brought in Eddie to keep him company. but Oedipus was practically feral and had a lot of misplaced anger, so we acquired Sir Reginald as a lightning rod for all his hatred, because Reggie is a wicked and cunning little devil who can give as good as he gets. he had a tough time his first few weeks, constantly freaking out when he saw Fabio because he had never seen a goat in his entire life, whereupon Oedipus would try to kick his ass for threatening his beloved, ignoring the fact that Reginald was trying to warn him about this creature that, as far as Reggie was concerned, might as well be the little kid from The Grudge.

SOMEHOW they've reached a sort of detente where Reggie boldly steals Eddie's food at every opportunity, and if supper is ever late or they run out of water Eddie chases Reggie around and tries to eat him, and Fabio is happy and safe and if a coyote even looks at him the other two will kick it to death.

here we see Reginald and Oedipus getting covered in snow because they would rather sit beside the huge pile of food than GO INSIDE

[im-out-of-it]

act 10 of season 1, episode 13 continued

143. THIS IS MY ALL TIME FAVORITE MAGNUS MOMENT I MEAN THE FLIP THE RINGS MAGNUS THE RINGS MAGNUS THAT LONG RING I NEED IT

144. “we need to find jace” -clary. so the supposed best shadowhunter can’t take care of himself and always needs rescuing? how interesting

145. I don’t get Jace desperate to beat Valentine but instead he’s acting like him. I still stand by this: at least with Alec, I could sympathize with his actions after he found out about his parents. Jace is just running around, cutting off hands, and doing whatever he pleases without paying consequences. he’s ten times worse because no one is trying to stop him. “he’s not thinking clearly” so does jace get a pass????????

146. honestly Valentine is so funny to me because he knows that jace wants to kill him but he’s here making up shit about how he is jace’s father all in the name of revenge. like at this point, it’s comical because you can’t feel bad for jace for believing a VILLAIN

147. this is my favorite second gif. camille is so amused, magnus is vexed, and Alec is horny 😭

148. Alec: he kissed his psycho ex but fuck, that ass. I’m so gay and I think I already love this man

149. I know they’re super identical but ALEC BEING THIRSTY FOR MAGNUS SENDS ME 🥰

150. okay, can we be for real for a sec? if I was as wealthy as Camille, I WOULD FUCKING LIVE HERE LIKE THE SPACE FOR ALL OF MY BOOKS ✨

151. I don’t know why isabelle is all like it’s creepy. BITCH SOME OF US DREAM FOR THE ACRES AND THE SPACE FOR BOOKS SO BACK OFF

152. FUCK LOOK AT MAGNUS

153. Alec: still mad at you babe

154. Magnus: let’s shoo the fuck out of here and also don’t be mad at me babe and Izzy is like IM WATCHING YOU

155. ALSO CAMILLE IS FINE AS HELL. she’s ready to fuck out of here

156. Camille: what’s that I smell? oh yes, the wonderful smell of freedom

leaving off at 157. so there’s like not even 10 minutes left so part eleven will be out in probably a few hours give or take. I’d doubt it’ll be thirteen parts but how ironic would that be

[misfitwashere]

Grassy and warm fly-ins are a luxury that I bet Qatar does not have. I could be wrong about that, though, because Qatar may have many expensively maintained turf runways, considering that it has enough spare cash to give away a big giant “Dumbo” of a jet that some people say is worth four hundred million simoleons.

“There is no such thing as a free jet,” said Jeff, an old airline pilot buddy who was my plus one at today’s springtime airplane showoff and BBQ eating contest. “As a matter of fact,” he continued, “free airplanes can cost you the most.”

We spent the next few minutes discussing the whole “free jet” deal as we slurped on giant icy ice teas and watched a Taylorcraft launch itself from the grass for home. We discussed the probable lack of a pre-buy. Why pay for a pre-buy if you aren’t buying it? We talked about the long history of other “gifts” we have gotten from other nations, like the present the USSR gave us when we built our new embassy.

That gift was a wall hanging with enough listening devices to catch every secret word uttered in the ambassador’s office. Could that happen with a gifted 747? “Naw,” said Jeff. “Unless they find a place in the over 150 miles of wiring, with over 170,000 individual wires and cables connecting various systems throughout the aircraft. I just put a tiny GPS tracking device on my dog. I wonder how many trackers and other geegaws you could put on that 747.”

“Not my circus and not my monkeys,” I said. The past few years have led me to leave almost all of the political daily outrages and stupidity of both sides outside the airport gate, and if asked to tell people my opinion about such things, I give them my monkey/circus quote.

Speaking of circuses, I said I would take your “no jet is truly free” statement and expand it into this idea:

There is no Magic Feather.

I am thinking about that classic movie, Dumbo. No, I am not talking about that bizarre version that bored and money-hungry Disney execs foisted on us a few years ago. I am talking about the animated one made in 1941, which was one of the pivotal years.

“Now, 1941, I can get behind,” said Jeff. “That was one kick-ass movie. Belushi rules!”

Anyway, I continued, the baby elephant’s flying abilities were brought out by a mouse brandishing a “magic feather” donated by a group of crows that were most likely the most racist stereotype in the movies that year (and that was saying something).

Once Dumbo, the baby elephant, was given the magic feather and was briefed by his friend and flight instructor, Timothy Q. Mouse, he found the courage to begin his flying career. 

Of course, at the end of the film, Dumbo loses the feather and, after a moment of cinematic panic, triumphs as he zooms over an amazed circus audience that includes even more insulting stereotypical characters than the above-mentioned crows. 

“So,” said Jeff, “The moral of that story is if all you need is a little confidence boost to get you to make that metaphorical jump into flying a magic feather will do the trick.”

Wrong, I said.

As I said, there is no Magic Feather. Dumbo went through a heck of a lot before he made his first flight. 

• He lost his mother  • He had a weight problem • People took advantage of him • He spent time at a circus working for peanuts while clowns ran his career.

Jeff said, “Wow! Except for the part about losing his mother at a young age, that pretty much describes my flying career!”

It goes on, I said as I went on.

The courage to try flying is easy. Once hooked, you are then offered various “magic” ways to get involved and make it your life’s work. Many people call this “paying your dues.” I call it grasping the Magic Feather.

Here are a few feathers and their true costs.

The military offers the best free flight training in the world and then lets you fly the best aircraft while they pay you!

Once the feather drops, you realize you owe them ten years of your maybe seventy-year-long life. The other cost is that life can be cut short because military pilots can be shot at and often are.

An airline piloting career is a dream come true, and they provide you with excellent training and a pretty good take-home pay. Of course, you will be away from that home you are taking your pay to for about 40% of your life while on trips and training. Also, in exchange for this great job, the airlines expect you to follow so many rules that they publish books of those rules. 

Of course, the most obvious snatching away of the Magic Feather are the flight schools and colleges that offer you training to qualify to become a military or, more likely, an airline pilot in exchange for a lot of money.

“So, what is so bad about all that?” asked Jeff. “I made that trade for both a military and an airline career and had a blast. I would not do it any other way.”

I wouldn’t either, but we know there is no magic feather. At our advanced age, we also know that there are no shortcuts or freebies when it comes to becoming and remaining a pilot.

We also agree that there is absolutely no such thing as a free pilot career or a free jet. Anyone telling you there is such a thing is selling you a feather full of bugs attached to an anchor.

Kevin Garrison

Kevin Garrison is a former airline captain who continues to spread his wisdom of the ages as an airport bum. He shares his thoughts twice a month.

[gaypirate420]

Curiosity here: {Discussion}

If you could re-write Jasper but keep 2 things about him, what would you keep? Besides appearance and gift! How would you explore this new version of Jasper?

For me, I'd keep his army past and Alice. But I'd explore how he changes over time and comes to realize how bad being on the Confederate side & being racist is. (I think you get it I'm trying to keep this short.)

Such as what makes him change and how he copes with his new understanding, and y'know the whole process of that.

Ofc, she comes into play too, maybe she's the catalyst that gets him to thinkin' about the topic at the surface, but it eventually goes deeper as she overtime explains things to him, and he thinks further on his own. IDK BRO I'm just thinking and wanted to read what you'd do. {Have a discussion.}

I'd change him shacking up w/ the Cullens though...or maybe their relationships with each other. I'd love to explore everything basically around canon while still being divergent to an extent. (Canon Related?)

He'd be the main character, but I think you already knew that if you read or at least skimmed this. But I have a terrible fear of people misunderstanding me. (⊙﹏⊙)

But yeah, I was just curious! I know a lot of people have done all sorts of things with him in Fics regarding his past and such, but I do always enjoy reading your responses to things.

This is just a purely hypothetical discussion. {If this was ever made that would be ambitious as hell cause like mf is like... 150 years old!}

I don't even want to think about all that time, and they never sleep either so like holy hell. So many moments of introspection and guilt and etc. to write I'd have a mental collapse. {But that's me when I write anything but also editing sucks ass.}

But not to mention ofc the huge amounts of research everything would take, and I am a huge perfectionist.

-Sincerely a mutual who tried to ask a few questions then freaked out over my own questions.

I'm making this anon now because I fear this ask now.

I think we have the same idea dear mutual!

(this is so fucking long omg I went off the rails, let me know what y'all think.)

I wouldn't rewrite anything, I'll just play it differently, I'll give it a nice depth.

I've always been on the side that just rewrite or ignore Jasper's confederate past is- not ideal. Yeah it's okay for a silly little comfort fic with your favorite vampire but not when talking about his actual canon characterization.

I would keep him serving for the Confederate army. I know a lot of people don't like that about him, but, I think it's a huge part of his character but there was something lacking there.

And what was missing is guilt.

Jasper, as to how he is written, and how we see the scenes of his past are played on both the book and the movie makes him look like he wasn't ashamed of his racist past or that he was even still prideful for it.

And it's so weird for me, how could this man who spent a century long depression, a self described "monster" a "nightmare" that just floods with self loathing couldn't feel guilty for not only taking someone's life but their freedom?

How could he feel guilty over killing the newborns but not black people? It doesn't make sense and it makes it worse, it makes you think that he, in modern times, it's still a confederate and also because vampires are "mentally frozen." He's not changed that much really then.

(I think Jasper lacking guilt and remorse about these fact about him is because of SM and her own views she not so subtlety spread all over her books though.)

So yes, I am keeping him as an ex-confederate soldier. Jasper was 17 so we are just to assume he was ignorant, and that's okay, we can live with an ignorant white boy for now. I cannot stress enough about how there is no need to make mental flips and splits to justify this choice of thinking in a 17 y/o southern boy from the 1840's. But, he gets to change, he, after the first years of him killing the newborns reflects about this, he might not be completely educated but he has the spirit.

Now let's talk about Alice.

I love her, but, if we are really analysing this then her and therefore the rest of the Cullens (because they welcome her and Jasper on their family) are okay with Jasper serving for the confederacy and I don't like that.

Why did Alice make him feel hope and all this shit and get him to change and learn a new life but didn't make him reflect on that maybe, perhaps, fighting for the enslavement of an entire race wasn't a good thing to do.

She says "you'll never be that again." referring to him being a vampire killing machine, not a racist, may I remind y'all.

So, I think the change would be about Alice teaching him things, Jasper spent so much time with Maria and then he was seriously depressed, I get the idea he wasn't interested on- going outside besides to feed from humans.

I think there are two types of vampires, those who love seeing humanity grow and change and come up with all these little inventions and then the ones who just see humans as prey.

Alice being the first and Jasper the second, but not for long after he meets her.

I think Alice could update him about the modern world that was the 50's, she would educate her that yes, Jasper's gentlemanly ways are charming and make her blush and giggle but there are some comments that aren't okay, just because in "his time" it was "okay", "funny" or "right", to say these things doesn't make them less offensive, dismissive and hurtful.

Alice would ask Jasper what did he felt while serving? And why? Was he even fully aware of what he was fighting for? Did the years of him seeing countless human's fight and go to wars that got bloodier and more destructive made him stop and think about the damage of his own army career?

Make the man reflect. Make him think for days and days about these questions he asked himself but never truly took the time to answer them. I need Jasper to have a slight mental breakdown before he gets to know the more peaceful life with the Cullens and Alice.

Alice asked these questions in her endless curiosity, not in innocence, but rather to know Jasper, really know him and understand him.

I want him to feel disgusted about having to feed from humans now that he realizes how much harm he did, and that's were the Cullens come in, Alice knows about her new family of course and it's more than excited to know her mate wants this life too, not because oh he's so in love with her he'll do anything (he is) but because he wants to change.

Carlisle let's him stay because he knows this, he understands in a way and he can't help but sympathize with him and Alice wanting to change herself and help her partner.

But Jasper can't fully because his body is asking him to kill constantly. He doesn't want to keep harming people, but his body can't forget, not only his body it's scarred as a reminder, but there's this annoying bloodlust that doesn't want to go away just yet.

But he has Alice, holding his hand and make him feel like everything will be alright.

Jasper is struggling but he is changing, he is getting more and more mental peace, finally, after a century and a half. It's slow, it's painful but it's there, self forgiveness and change.

One of the things that I love, a concept, Jasper being into philosophy, history and just literature, him loving to learn.

I love that in Breaking Dawn Jasper wanted to help Bella with her thirst. And of course I love him being hurt when she's way more successful than he is after so many years.

Seeing someone who you share the same experiences is so amazing, it helps you, but seeing them overcome this challenges that you also endure it brings you down on such a horrible way, it hurts you, but it makes you think of who you were before and how much you have accomplished. How much you've changed and that's my take on Jasper Hale.

I am not normal about him.

Also, I think I would change vampires not being able to sleep or cry, I think Jasper deserves both, as a treat :). I love him.

[eriexplosion]

Ruins of War time, picking up where we left off - screaming in terror!

"I would say this was going well!" Well that was your first mistake Tech. Never say that.

CRASHING? Hunter is! so! Tired!

The way that they actually think everything is fine and then the container abruptly falls JUST A LITTLE MORE.

Okay though this femur fracture is not actually that integral to the storyline, and it's very specific and all I'm saying is that I think the femur is going to have broken again in the fall or something of a similar nature and give him a bad leg. Here's how reduced mobility Tech can win.

Genuinely freaky how he barely made a sound though like tiniest 'agh' ever for 150 kgs slamming onto his leg.

"It's unlikely the thieves who infiltrated the cargo ship survived the crash" Parallels parallels everywhere.

God the way they have to haul Tech over the cliff like fucking cargo. Just hoist him.

Interesting that they've never gone over the plans with Omega before, she doesn't know what Plan Double Zero means, and it's a very basic radio silence code. They set up that Omega hasn't been taught the Plan codes before hinging their finale on a plan code - giving us an excuse potentially in season 3 to have Crosshair explain what it is, because I doubt it's as simple as I'M KILLING MYSELF BYE.

"What are you doing here?" "I LIVE HERE."

They are literally making this man take them home, Romar actually has a ton of reasons to turn them out on their ass but he's being a very good sport about it.

All Omega wants to do is prove that she's worth having around after hearing what Echo said, this is her sole goal in life right now and I need to hug her.

"I'm keeping an eye on you" you are holding an old man hostage in his own home Omega it's not ideal.

KALEIDOSCOPE. "For blast's sake, it's a TOY. It makes you HAPPY."

Tech and Echo's argument oh my god, the way Omega feels like her family is fracturing. BABY.

HEY ACE. I love Romero so much. Explaining that it's not a Separatist archive. It's Serrenian. They existed before the war (they exist now, after the war) and how Tech never thought of it like that because clones existed ONLY FOR WAR aghhhhhh MY HEART.

Wrecker instantly turning the tank gun into a hand held gun is just. So attractive actually, I love that. "I make a pretty good tank" damn right you do."

"She was just here..." "WELL SHE'S NOT NOW!"

God Echo is really having a TIME of it.

Tech literally hobbling out on a fractured femur like that absolutely is going to weaken it further just saying.

I do love the detail that Wrecker is intentionally shooting AROUND the other stormtroopers when using the tank gun, so he has at least a chance of not hurting them too badly.

Captain Wilco having this moment with his helmet off as he kneels by a dead trooper is only a couple seconds but it does SO much for making us feel attached to him before The Events at the end.

They always go SO hard on Tech's music honestly, there's so many moments of him getting fired on and the fight behind the tree and Everything that the music just goes incredibly hard. The way it cuts out for just a second when he finally collapses before swelling up just a little again. Damn the Kiners are good at this.

NO Omega you cannot have even a SMALL amount of treasure.

"You don't have a normal life because of me" god babygirl this is very important but oh my god please have this breakdown ANYWHERE that is not a collapsing container unit.

Telling Omega she has to let it go... with her worry about being the reason they're in danger set to reappear in season three, I feel like that's going to be a thing that comes back. Everyone's a burden bby let's get you some fruit.

Will the kaleidoscope ever come back only time will tell

I'M A SURVIVOR REMEMBER? Refuse to believe that's not related to Tech's plot with the way that it lingers on him. I'm sorry the man's unkillability signals are so heavy.

"We made the right choice, Omega. I'd do it all again." MY HEART

Obsessed still with the fact that the Batch must have been reported dead by Crosshair, just, god there's so much there that's just IMPLIED instead of stated.

Wilco ;_;

Anyway as a premier this one REALLY doesn't actually cover much? Like they are fun episodes but we don't get much new info or anything, but we do get several small things that I think would very possibly come back.

[caution-may-bite]

Vent

TW for Child Abuse, Car Accident, Etc.

I've had a hell of a start to this year. On Christmas Eve I had my car totaled. The officers who came to the scene thought it was thebother guy's fault but since there was no way to prove it, the insurance might just cover ourselves.

Well my mother took me andnmy partner home after we had to go to the hospital. I am concussed and both of us are in a lot of pain. Because I mean. A bit ass Ford 150 hit my tiny ass shitmobile fast enough to deploy our airbags when we were going at most maybe 20. More like 5 to 10 because we had just pulled out of the parking lot.

She then proceeds to yell at us for buying fast food. She claimed we needed to be "more humble" and wouldn't listen to anything.

Now, as I have been struggling to work due to the concussion, she had called me up saying we can't have our cats back that she was watching for us because one of them is sick. Which we told her and explained to her why and how he was the way he is. But I mean, it was weird she decided it was okay to rename all of them why they were living with her so I should have seen this coming.

And despite having apologized for the trauma she caused me as a child, when I was arguing with her over our cats and the news that the sick cat had more going on with him than we knew, when I brought up that she abused me as she kept saying "I raised you better than this!" She said that I made false reports to CPS as a child- and to call the psychiatrist that I had gone to as a child for proof that they were fake. I, as a child, could not have made those reports. The psychiatrist office is a mandatory fucking reporter.

She also claimed that I lack empathy when all she has done is be unempathtic and really downright cruel. But she views herself as doing nothing wrong. She only ended the call when I told her she was one of the least empathetic people I know. Because she is. And that hurt her ego, and it is one of the things she prides herself on. So she ended the call and told me "I love you." The same excuse she gave me whennI was talking to her before.

She had told me that the reason she did things that traumatized me as a kid was because she loved me. I can't, for my own mental stability right now, go to far into things. I can for a fact say that locking all the food up behind chains and locks is not love. Forcing me to sleep in the floor or at the foot of the bed is not love. Hitting me because she was angry is not. Ignoring my cries for help and pleading for medical care that I needed is not love. Locking me outside because I didn't finish particular chores and refusing to let me drink or go to the bathroom, or on the otherhand locking me in a bathroom that smelled so badly of piss and handing me a sponge and being told to scrub the floor with a black substance and only coming around to yell at me while I cried because my eyes burned and the fumes were making me feel sick and the sponge was being torn up by the hard layer of whatever piss substance was on the ground- all of that does not seem like love.

I am struggling to get an apartment and go to full day's work. I am working as hard as I can because I have people and pets that I care for deeply that I want to succeed and give a better place for.

I am having to try and find a new job that is closer even if it means taking less pay because of this car wreck.

A small thing in comparison but I had to eat my mother's cooking again and she is... horrible at it. Yet she is convinced she is a chef level cook. I am sure things being overly salty does not equal having flavor. I am surprised I even learned how to cook, considering that was what I had to base my skills off of.

There's several moments where I wonder if I was just meant to suffer. If I had done something so horrible in a past life that I am getting what I deserve in this one. Things keep being thrown my way, and I don't know how to handle it. I feel so stupid for even trusting my mother again and guilty that now my partner, and his other partner are now all involved in something with her.

At the same time, I have some odd sense of calm from the fact that I wasn't crazy. That my mother really is an insane bitch. That it was bad enough the mandatory reporters at the psychiatrist place had to place reports multiple times and that she had the delusional mindset to blame me.

I don't know why she hates me so much. As a child I was constantly seeking her validation but nothing I ever did was good enough.

She only cared for my well being when it made her look good. She only supports things when it makes her look good.

I was something she could cast all the blame on. I still am. I am the evil child that ruined her life. To her I am ungrateful. Because of her and how she constantly characterized me as someone evil and cruel I always feel like I should not be around people because I will hurt them and that I am a horrible person that does not deserve what I have. That if I am not working to prove myself then I am worthless.

I noticed that a likely reason I feel I need to report what I have done or what I am doing, and provide proof of such and update others on tasks even if they are small is because of her as well. She expects a report of all that I have done every time she sees me again.

And she still places more value in the pets than my own life. The pets got vet care first, or treats or a new bed or toy. I was neglected and made to care for them.

I should stop rambling now. Sorry for going on so much I just needed to get this out somewhere.

[siesporamor]

Ok, it's time I start Sueña Conmigo posting, so here's a quick rundown:

it's the most telenovela of all telenovelas

there are 150 episodes of this thing

as much as I love Violetta, I can't unsee some similarities that border plagiarism

basically our protagonist, Clara, lives with her strict, rich as fuck dad, while her mom lives in Mexico

yes, she does write in a diary, if you wanted to ask

her dad doesn't want her to sing for Reasons, I think mostly because Clara's mom is a singer and they're separated, but it's honestly unclear

Clara decides to participate in a singing competition called Soy Tu Superstar, where no one other than the main characters will ever sing

because her dad can't find out, she creates a persona called Roxy Pop (no, I can't take it seriously)

unlike Vilu and Fran's basic-ass disguises, Clara puts some effort: she wears a pink wig (that I actually always liked), blue contacts, completely changes her style and uses a different voice

she obviously becomes the reality's fan favorite in .5 seconds, because she's the protagonist

meanwhile, as her dad is taking her to school in his car, there's this group of guys singing and playing instruments in the middle of the street and blocking traffic

this guy Luca somehow falls on Clara's dad's car and they see each other and idk, meet cute shit

Clara later finds out Luca is a new student at her school, too bad he also acts like a dick because he thinks Clara stole his guitar (it's complicated)

no, seriously, he's a walking red flag and he DOES get worse

anyway, he immediately falls in love with Roxy while hating Clara as if they don't act exactly the same??

also Luca has a girlfriend who is ofc the show's resident mean girl, Marcia, Roxy/Clara's main rival in the singing competion

Clara is head over heels for him and I wish someone had told her she deserves better

oh, and there's this guy Titán (whose real name is Diego, no, don't ask questions) who wants to date Clara, but doesn't seem to realize she literally cannot stand him

there are a shitton other characters, but you just need to know Violeta, Clara's bestie, and Nuria, the daughter of Clara's father's girlfriend who is a literal pick me girl

btw Luca has two sisters and the eldest is Jade, thought you should know

Luca also has a band, but I couldn't care less about his friends

not all men, but all these men

if you think it's annoying when in Violetta s1 every guy is into her, wait till every girl is into the most mediocre man on this planet

thankfully at some point it turns into every guy likes Clara, which in any other circumstance would've bothered me, but this time it felt refreshing

also have you seen her?? ofc everybody's into her

sidenote, Clara's outfits kinda slay and I've always wanted her rings

what else. Luca is nasty crusty musty and dusty, and every single time there's a minuscule impediment in him and Clara/Roxy getting together, he gives up faster than I accept to order pizza instead of cooking

I have beef with Luca, can you tell?

too many fucking episodes and sooo much reused footage

whenever Clara/Roxy and Luca are singing to each other the camera always focuses on just their eyes and it's so awkward

This is it. I've broken Sueña Conmigo down to its bare bones. It's a dumpster fire but it's MY dumpster fire.

[easypeasylindyvesey]

I Think it’s Strange We Never Knew: Jimmy Vesey x fem!OC

Summary: After the unforeseen death of Abby’s boyfriend, one of the NHL’s star defenseman and her teammate, she severely struggles with managing her grief. She confides in Jimmy Vesey, who is not only another teammate of hers, but is one of the very few people she has a strong friendship with. That is until that night and the days that followed. Does this life-altering news change the trajectory of their personal perceptions of each other? Or does it entail a chance of crossing boundaries for the risk of moving on?

Word Count: 7,676

*(General) Warnings: (foul) language, mentions/discussion of death, suicide attempt (brief, closed door description), eventual confession of feelings, grief, panic attack(s), angst, eventual sexual implications but no smut, age gap

*Note: This story takes place in the future. Abby is 24-25 and Jimmy is 33-35.

SEPTEMBER 2027 (Warnings: (foul) language, mentions of death, angst if you squint, jimmy beginning his emotionally unavailable era)

This is the time of year where you feel like you’re mourning the loss of something you never had. For me, it’s always been the end of summer, the end of all things relaxation and the beginning of the hecticness. Everything goes too fast. You just wish it would slow down in just the slightest. The uncertainty of the future gnaws at my brain pretty much all the time. The red and yellow does not illuminate on the traffic light. It’s only green. And it never changes.

Preseason has already begun, and everyone on the roster rotates throughout each game. Tonight is the third game out of six. While Jimmy and the other selected guys had to take the train down to Prudential Center, I get to sit in the apartment on the couch, alone, verbalizing my thoughts without anyone hearing me (well, that’s as long as I don’t yell too loudly). If I’m being truthful, I am secretly grateful that he and I were not placed in the same group for these games. It’s nice to have a break. And I’m not saying this because I’m sick of him; more on the fact that both of us are in desperate need of socialization that doesn’t involve the other. We’re less dependent on each other. It’s as if we’re circling back to where we once were.

Then again, where were we to begin with?

Oh, right. The lip-locking.

No, we have not had another incident since. And no, we haven’t acted on impulse for even attempting a replication at it. We’re back to our awkward, unhinged selves. No bickering, no teasing that could be mistaken as flirting, no nothing. I sent him a text earlier wishing him luck and to not take it too seriously. He had the audacity to reply: 

I’m wearing an A tonight. You best believe my ass I will🤑

I replied back:

you’re not even getting paid bozo

He replied:

Well in this case you’re paying your time to watch me.

I replied:

get over 10 min TOI and then we’ll talk

He responded back:

Just don’t get a noise complaint.

I laugh. Typing back, I write:

i will when you execute your move of missing the net and then i curse the most amount of expletives known to man

Another text comes through:

You already do that on a regular basis

To which I answer:

and i’m damn well proud of it

He sends another:

Gotta go. Train leaves at 10, probs won’t be back till 11 or a little after. Don’t wait up if you’re that tired.

I end it:

i will so you can listen to my analytic response.

Or so I thought I ended it.

He answers back:

Don’t need a reiteration if I end up playing like shit

I roll my eyes, typing:

you’re gonna be fine. pre doesn’t matter anyway. just give it 110% like you always do💛

And finally, it ends:

Jokes on you. I give it 150.

I toss my phone on the couch, scoffing at his antics. I reach for the remote and turn up the volume. I’ve got a blanket, a warm bowl of fettuccine alfredo, and the group chat notifications on for those who aren’t playing tonight to discuss the game unbeknownst to the others. It’s gonna be a fun evening.

—------

The evening was far from fun. They lost 3-2 in a shootout. Overall, they had a really good game, but they just couldn’t capitalize for long increments of time. Jimmy ended up proving himself wrong. He played quite well. Did he miss the net? In fact, he did.

On a motherfucking breakaway.

The camera zoomed in on his frustration after he got denied, and all I could do was dramatically groan “Jesus Christ!” out loud, punching the pillow next to me and immediately going to the group chat and sending a text to express my displeasure toward that failed chance: what the fuck was that😭. Of course, it’s all jokes. It always is. 

I didn’t text him after because I’m sure he knows I’ll still be waiting up for him to get back, and while he might not be in the mood to talk, let alone have the mental stability to hold a conversation, he’ll know I only tried because I genuinely care.

I’m lying down on the couch, resting my head on the pillow and the blanket engulfing my entire body, putting on “Family Feud” as background noise while I scroll though my phone, checking for anything remotely interesting to look at.

The upper half of my body jolts as I hear the sound of a key being entered through the lock and the door quietly squeaking its way open. Heavy footsteps make their presence known on the wooden floor, the door being closed and the latch hanging across. A presumably exhausted sigh fills the space, the sound of a bag being dropped near the chair. 

I’m watching the TV when I hear Jimmy open the fridge and say something. “Ten twenty two.”

I keep my eyes fixated, but he doesn’t see my face contort in confusion. “What?”

The fridge door shuts, and I hear his footsteps glide across the floor and onto the carpet, sitting down in the chair angled toward the TV. He’s holding a water bottle in his hand. “My ice time tonight.”

I nod tiredly. “At least it wasn’t single digits.”

“At least I didn’t get benched the last period.”

I turn my face to look up at him. “Why the hell would you ever be benched?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s always someone better.”

I roll my eyes. “No one is better than anyone. You’re all great in your own way. Christ’s sake, Jim, please don’t tell me you actually think that.”

“Can’t help it sometimes.”

He sounds so defeated that it actually makes me sad. It gives me the willpower to sit up and turn off the TV, placing the remote on the coffee table and ripping the blanket off me. I sit slouched with my head resting in the palms of my hands. “If you were not good, you would have never, ever made it to the pros. I don’t fucking care you’re a bottom sixer. You know your role and you stick to it. You worked your ass off tonight.”

Jimmy looks down at his shoes. “You not gonna say anything about the breakaway?”

I roll my eyes. “Forget it. You missed. Big deal. It’s not like you sent Twitter into a frenzy.”

He cracks that half smirk, half smile. “Sure you had something to say about it, though.”

I run my hands down my face, rubbing my eyes underneath my glasses. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

He leans back in the chair, casually manspreading, if you will. He looks up at the ceiling. “I think it’s all the pressure we’re gonna have this year to perform well. It’s starting to affect me now, like, if there’s any showings of inconsistency, it’s gonna drag the whole team down, and then God forbid we don’t go to playoffs, everyone’s just gonna blame certain people for spoiling the chance. I don’t want that on my conscience, Abb. I really don’t.”

I sigh, looking at his side profile that’s still pointed upwards. “Hey, I totally get it. Seriously, I do. There have been times where I’ve had a rough game and then I had to make sure the next one was an improvement, and if not, I’d believe everyone would start coming after me. You’re allowed to have a bad night. It happens to all of us. We’re not gonna win every game, but we go out and die trying.”

His eyes return back to a noticeable level, staring into mine. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

I stand up and leave the blanket, phone in hand, walking over to his side and resting my hand on his shoulder, giving it the slightest squeeze to show my support. “You are enough,” I tell him, looking into his eyes. It’s only now that I realize how long his eyelashes are, how aligned and straight they present themselves. “Okay? Don’t go to bed with that mentality. Take a shower and wash it off.”

“I already took a shower,” Jimmy says quietly.

“So then go change and get some sleep,” I suggest. “Unless you wanna talk about it. I can get coffee going if it’s really something you need to get off your chest.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’ll pass. I think once we’ve all adjusted, it won’t feel like such a huge weight.” He starts to unbutton the cufflinks on his button down. “Thanks, though.”

I rub my thumb on his shoulder, removing my hand as he motions to stand up. “Always, James.” I smile as I head for my room.

Jimmy scoffs, his shoes once again clicking on the hardwood. “The fuck is wrong with you, Abigail?”

I stop in my tracks and turn around to look at him. I’m inches from my door. “Nobody calls me that.”

“Maybe I’ll be the first person to do so.” He squeezes past me to enter his room. “I mean, it is your actual name.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“The same reason you don’t like being called James.”

I can already see him slowly closing his door. “And who said that?”

I pretend to think about my answer. “Uh, you?”

He smiles. “Nice try. Get outta here.”

I stick my face out at him. “I gladly will. Sweet dreams.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters sarcastically, clicking the door shut. Before I forget, I head back to the entryway to turn off the light. It’s almost pitch black when I’m making my way back. I’m on the cusp of entering past the door when I hear the thud of what sounds like a belt, and an “Oh, fuck” escape Jimmy’s lips.

I stay hanging near my door. “You okay?” I say loud enough so he can hear me.

“Yeah,” he says behind the door. “Just, uh, just sore.”

“There’s an unopened bottle of ibuprofen in the top cabinet,” I tell him, “in case you needed one.”

“I’m gonna need, like, 50,” he jokes. “Nah, I’ve got some in my bag.”

“Which is still out in the kitchen,” I remind him.

I hear a groan. “Fuck’s sake. Can you get that for me?”

I walk the short distance into the kitchen and grab the gear bag, lifting it securely in my hand before approaching his door. “Got it.”

The door opens and he’s changed into a navy blue shirt and plaid pajama pants, his bed already unmade. He takes the bag from me. “Thank you.” The door looks to be closing again. “Good night.” It clicks shut again. I’m finally able to have full access to my room, shutting the door, staring at nothing in the dark. I make my way over to my bed, crawling in and taking off my glasses, putting them down on my nightstand table and putting my phone in the charger, flipping it case side up and sinking into the coziness of my sheets. I can’t help but wonder if Jimmy’s pain, both figurative and literal, is starting to take hold.

I can’t help but wonder if I should start to be afraid.

—------------

The first official rainy day of fall luckily happens on the day where there isn’t a game. There’s no worrying about driving up to the rink, or even having to go out at all. I stand out on the balcony in my slippers, breathing in the chilly, raw air. Of course, chilly at this rate is around 60 degrees, but it’s better than consistent 85-90 degree days where you have to crank the AC. The sight of wet leaves on the pavement and the light panging of the rain on the window calms me down. All I need to fit the vibe is a hot drink in my hand.

Walking back into my room and out into the kitchen, I feel a shiver run down my spine. It’s evident that Jimmy notices as he’s pouring coffee from the Keurig into two mugs. “Oh, you didn’t just get sick, did you?” It looks like static electricity has taken over his hair.

I grab the blue and white striped mug in front of me and drag it across the countertop. “That would be your dream, wouldn’t it?” I take a quick zip to lower the chances of burning my tongue.

He shakes his head. “Actually, it’d be the opposite.”

I place the mug back down. “Let’s just say I’d probably handle it better than you.”

He lifts his own mug to his mouth, then pauses. “What do you mean by that?”

I move my eyes from side to side. “You know, the whole stereotype that men act like babies when they’re sick. I’m not sure if I can affiliate myself with that.”

Jimmy lets out a shortened laugh. “Well, all I have to do is take some Tylenol and drink enough water and snore several times a day. Before you know it, I’m back on my feet.”

I tilt my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sick.”

He finishes sipping his coffee. “I was sick last year. Remember? It was the game before Christmas break. Whole bunch of us had to sit out because of the stomach bug. I didn’t end up getting it.”

A confused look makes way onto my face. “But you just said you were sick.”

“I was,” he reiterates. “I didn’t actually catch the bug, like, throwing up constantly and stuff like that. It was basically just chills and nausea, which, believe me, did not feel good. Thank goodness for Pepto Bismol.”

I laugh. “So, what, you just laid on the couch all day?”

“Pretty much,” he replies. “Watched the game, though. Still managed to pull out the win.”

“Sucks you weren’t there to actually celebrate,” I say. “All of your absences were definitely noticeable.”

“Good to know.” He sets his mug down. “Did you even miss any games at all last year? I’m sure I always heard your voice around one way or another.”

I’m trying so hard not to blush. “Honestly, I think I had grade A attendance.”

“Seriously?” Even he can’t believe it. “All 82?”

I nod, smiling. “The key is to not get hurt or sick.”

“Now why didn’t I think about that?” He taps his fingers on the countertop. “And yet, you still weren’t nominated.”

I shrug. ‘I don’t care about that. I don’t need an award to prove I’m good. And neither do you. We’ve been able to showcase our ability without a shiny trophy.”

“It’s not even the shiny trophy that’d mean the most,” he tells me, winking.

The blushing is noticeable now. “Yeah, well, who knows when that’s gonna happen?”

“It will.”

“Yeah, but it’s all a matter of when. We can’t just sit around, waiting for it.”

“That’s what this year is for.”

I drag my fingers along the mug handle. “I just want us to have a good year,” I tell Jimmy. “Forget postseason for a minute. I’m more than okay with a good regular. We’re already gonna have a target on our backs, you know, from the media and everything, about how this year is different for obvious reasons and what we’re gonna change and blah blah blah. I can already predict the antagonizing questions we’re gonna be asked.” I lift up my mug to take another sip. “I’m ready to tell them I’m declining.”

A soft chuckle elicits through his mouth. “They’re definitely gonna give us a run for our money.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll just tell them to put it where their mouths are.” I jump off the chair and walk over to the sink, rinsing out my mug and washing it out with dish soap and the soap pad. I turn to look at Jimmy, who’s leaning against the island. “Seriously, though. I’m not gonna have time for their bullshit.”

“Of course you won’t,” he agrees, “but you gotta remember they’re just doing their job.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I know, but some of their questions make my ears bleed. Here I am, sitting in my stall after a shit game, and the first thing they’re gonna ask me is what went wrong. Why don’t you tell me that?”

“I know it’s just stating the obvious, but that’s what they’re trained to do. You can’t give it away on your face that it’s a bad question, though.”

My face scrunches up. “I don’t do that.”

He whistles quietly, looking out at the window, watching the leaves fall from the trees, courtesy of the wind. “Hate to break the news, Abb, but you do. You have a tell.”

I let out a laugh, placing my clean mug back in the cabinet. “I do not.”

“You zone out past the cameras and then add a scoff for the extra flair.” He gives me a smirk in return.

“Sorry I don’t hide my irritation that well,” I retort. “I’m waiting as to who’s gonna ask a question about Ryan. That’s when I’ll break their neck.”

“I can totally see you doing that.”

“Yeah, just don’t piss me off and I won’t have to,” I reply back, smiling.

“You ain’t gotta worry about me, though,” Jimmy says, moving to the sink to rinse his mug out. I step back toward the pantry to give him space. I didn’t even realize I was still standing there.

“I know I don’t,” I tell him. “You’ll be up and ready to defend me.”

“Like always,” he replies. “Hell, maybe I’ll even sneak a bit of attitude in there.”

I expose a sly smile. “Time to bring out the Boston bitchiness.”

He laughs. “I mean, I don’t consider myself to be rude, but hey, I’m just like you, in terms of needing to act that way in certain situations.” He looks at me. “That includes telling off the press, not by giving them an attitude, but more of just trying to steer the conversation in another direction.”

I pretend to analyze what Jimmy just said. “Now I know why you won the Good Guy award, like, three years ago,” I tease.

“And now I know why you’ll never win the Lady Byng,” he retorts back.

“The Lady Byng is a scam anyway,” I claim. “It’s basically an award given to the one player that was always cooperative with the media and blah blah blah. There are a bunch of guys that could easily win it and they still don’t even end up getting a nomination.”

“Like who?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “This guy named James Vesey or something. I hear he’s the politest man you’ll ever meet. He loves having the cameras and microphones shoved in his face, pretending he’s some sort of movie star when he’s just subject to the last line on his team.”

He just stares at me.

“Oh, and don’t forget he never plays close to 11 minutes per game,” I continue on. “Basically getting paid to sit on the bench. At this rate, he should just be sent down to the minors if he’s not gonna average a decent amount of time over the span of a week’s schedule.”

He still doesn’t answer, and for a moment, I’m wondering if I accidentally roasted him a little too much.

But by the saving grace of God, I watch his dorky smile appear, flashing the tiniest bit of teeth. “This is why you’ll never be a reporter,” he says, walking past me and into the bathroom.

I follow him like a lost puppy and stand outside the door, watching him lift his toothbrush from the cup and cover the bristle in toothpaste before running it underneath the water and inserting it into his mouth, moving it around from side to side. “I could never be a reporter,” I defend myself. “Some of their questions can be so stupid that I feel like I’m being transported to another planet.”

“True,” I hear him say while brushing his teeth. I’m surprised he keeps all of the toothpaste in his mouth. I took him as the type of person to let it escape at some point and have it dribble down his chin. However, there’s already a lot of things he’s proven me wrong about. I’m sure there’s more that I’ll discover in the future.

I turn away and look toward my room so he can somewhat have privacy when rinsing. He stands back up from leaning over the sink and turns off the light. “No more coffee breath,” he says. “Wanna smell?”

I make eye contact with his skeptical looking face. “You want me to smell your mouth?” I make what I hope looks to be a repulsed face. “Absolutely not.”

Jimmy puts his hand on his hip. “Damn, such a weenie.”

“I am not,” I argue. “I already found out how it tasted. I don’t need to fall into another trap like that.”

His eyebrow pulls away from above his eye. “A trap?”

“Yeah,” I mutter.

A lightbulb pops up over his head, fluorescent light illuminating on all sides. “We agreed it was just a one time thing.”

“And it is,” I tell him. “I just want to make sure you’re reminded of that before you start making jokes.”

“Fine,” Jimmy says. “I’ll go on and pretend it never happened, like it didn’t mean a thing.”

“Good. Didn’t mean a damn thing to me either.”

That familiar feeling of awkward silence infiltrates its way throughout the apartment.

“Anyway,” I say, stepping back toward my bedroom door, “what are you doing with your day?”

“Well, I’m definitely not going out,” he says, gesturing toward the window. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“You think it’s too early to turn on the fireplace?” I throw out as a suggestion.

“It’s never too early,” he tells me, sending another wink my way.

I furrow an eyebrow. “See? You just want another replica, don’t you?”

“Abb, we just had this conversation,” Jimmy exasperates, rolling his eyes. “Who’s the one trying to rile me up now?”

I give him a proud smirk. “Now that is what I call a trap.” I head toward my room.

“And what are you doing with your day?” He calls after me.

“Nothing involving fire,” I respond, shutting the door, hoping I don’t hear his footsteps quickly approach.

For now, he remains in the kitchen, and I look around my room, unsure of how to occupy my time. It’s too early to start lounging in front of the TV. Hands on my hips, I scan every inch of wall, coming up with a plan.

When I’ve finally thought of one, I walk over to my closet and open the door. I’ve decided on cleaning out my summer clothes. You know, tank tops, dresses, shorts, sandals, the whole shebang. The only issue I might have is figuring out where to store all of it. I didn’t bring any storage containers while moving in. I lugged everything back in boxes. That was poor planning on my part.

I open my door and walk back into the kitchen to see that Jimmy has disappeared. I turn around and find his bedroom door cracked open. I quickly knock on it before I just barge in, because well, that would be rude.

Fortunately, I hear his voice perk up. “Yeah?”

I open up the door all the way and slowly trudge in, watching him prop up the pillows on the bed. “Do you by any chance happen to have storage containers lying around?”

He puts down the last of his two pillows and looks at me with a questionable face. “I don’t believe so, no. You can check in the closet if you want.”

Feeling the tiniest bit hopeful, I open up his closet door and peak inside, looking around in the dark. All I see are shirts and sweatshirts on hangers, suit jackets on hangers, button downs on hangers…you see where I’m going with this.

On the shelf above lie his neatly folded dress pants, sweats, all of that shit. I don’t know how he’s able to fit all of that and stack it without it tumbling down every time the door opens. And I, for one, would prefer to not test that theory.

Right below his main line of clothes, there’s some decorative storage boxes. He’s got some filled with trophies and plaques, others with hats, and one with what looks to be Christmas decorations. Well, at least I know he’s not boring when it comes to celebrating holidays.

And then I notice a tiny cardboard box. It looks like there’s a bunch of miscellaneous stuff just thrown in there. I guess the feeling of having to actually organize something freaks him out.

I peak in a little closer, and my heart skips the slightest of beats.

I see the pamphlet from Ryan’s funeral service, along with the memorial card.

I see the knife he pointed at me. He probably “got rid of it” so he could fool me into thinking it was still out in the kitchen somewhere.

This one makes me grip on the closet frame to prevent myself from falling.

The razor.

My eyes widen to the point where I feel they’re going to pop out of their sockets.

He kept it?

Why would he do that?

My initial thought would be Wow, okay, yeah, he’s got some serious issues. Now that I can somewhat think a little more clearly, it would only be rational to think It’s true he does, in fact, hold a grudge.

Abby, don’t even think about it.

I see a large piece of what I thought was paper stick out of the bottom. I turn around in hopes that I don’t get caught snooping. Technically, it’s not, since I’m not rearranging anything, but I don’t want to have another meaningless argument with him.

He’s not in here, probably stepped out into the kitchen or something. I make it very quick. Just a quick peak.

I wiggle the initially thought paper out of the bottom of the box. Only it’s not paper.

It’s a sympathy card.

Because my brain can’t stop myself, I open it. I scan the right side of the card.

Dear Jimmy,

We are so sorry to have heard the news about Ryan. We know that he was an incredibly valued teammate and friend. The tragedy itself is just terrible, perhaps close to being indescribable. You’ll probably receive this by the time of the funeral, so by what you told us about Abby staying with you for the time being, please, just be patient with her. She’s grieving this loss too, in a way that she once saw as impossible. Give her space, don’t force a conversation that both you and her know doesn’t need to be had, look after her, see if anything starts to change. She’s going to need a lot of help, and the fact she chose you is nothing short of an honor, when she could’ve chosen anyone else. It’ll be a long, difficult road, and it is painful now, but believe us when we say it will get easier. Let Abby know that, too. Reassure her. Just be there for her. She might not be able to express it right now, but we know deep down she is grateful to have you by her side. Tragedy brings people together. It doesn’t matter how, but it always does. Sometimes, it brings people together in the way you’d last expect. Keep that in mind. 

We’re always a phone call away if you need anything. We love you, always.

Love,

Mom & Dad

I shove the card back in the box, staring at the storage containers. This is a shrine.

It’s my shrine.

It’s a shrine he made to hold all of his grudges instead of actually talking to me.

And I never knew.

Lucky for me, I’ve started to grow thicker skin. I shut the closet door and turn around again. He’s still not here. Did he leave and not tell me?

I quietly walk across the carpet and out the door, turning into the kitchen/living room area. Completely empty.

I turn back around and pop my head in the bathroom. I shouldn’t have even bothered because the lights are off.

My last resort is my own room. I take several steps in, looking all the way up, down, and around. I even walk past the curtains to look out at the balcony. Nowhere to be seen.

“Fucking hell, where are you?” I mutter under my breath. I walk back out to the kitchen. His phone is on the countertop. But his keys aren’t.

At this point, it’s a lost cause to even predict where he is. 

Before I can even get a prediction in, the door unlocks and he emerges through the doorway. He’s carrying two large storage containers. “You couldn’t find any in there?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

But I did find something else.

Jimmy places the containers on the floor. “Well, I went down to the laundry room and found some unused ones.” He looks at them intently. “They’re in decent shape.”

I take a step back. “The laundry room has containers?”

He shrugs. “Guess so. Will 2 be enough? I can always go back down and grab another one if you’ll need more storage.”

It’s my turn to pick up the containers. “That’s something I can do, don’t worry about it.” I try to look at him over the lid. “Thanks, though.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. You need any help?”

My brain quickly short circuits.

‘She’s going to need a lot of help, and the fact she chose you is nothing short of an honor, when she could’ve chosen anyone else.’

I sigh contently. “Yeah, actually, if you don’t mind. You wanna take the top container and just bring it to my room?”

He walks over and lifts the container off the other one, holding the handles in his hands. “Sure thing,” he says, moving past me.

I follow him with the other container and re-enter my room. He’s placed the container on the bed. I’d rather have it on the floor, but in all fairness, I didn’t tell him where to put it, so I follow suit and put my container down next to the other one.

Walking over to my closet, I start taking everything off the hangers and pile it all on one arm, turning back to the containers and opening the lid with my free hand. I move them over to the side to make space for my clothes and start folding, placing it inside and stacking it neatly.

I decided to have one container for my shirts and dresses and the other for my shorts and extra sweatshirts I had due to the A.C. always blasting. That container is filled before I can squeeze in the last of my shirts. I lift the side handles to keep it shut and lift it off the bed, placing it down in the back of my closet.

Jimmy turns around from looking out at the balcony, watching the rain continue to pitter patter on the sliding doors. “You forgot about that one,” he points to the bed.

I stare down at the dress I wore out to our dinner at the vineyard. “I didn’t forget,” I tell him. “I’m gonna get rid of it.”

His face transitions into confusion. “What? Why?”

I stare down at my feet on the carpet. “I don’t know. Just don’t really like it too much.”

“I like it.”

I lift my head back up. “You do?”

He rolls his eyes. “Abb, I told you that.”

“No, you said that Ryan would’ve loved the dress. You never said anything about you liking it.”

I hear a nervous gulp make its way down his throat. “Well, I’ll repeat myself in case you didn’t hear me the first time, which you obviously did. I like that dress.”

I move my eyes from side to side. “Thanks,” I say meekly.

“Besides, you could save it for casino night or something.”

“No, I’m planning on getting a different dress for that. This one’s too bland.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s definitely not meant to last an entire night, either.”

Both his eyebrows shoot up. “What, what do you-”

“Like, I can’t wear it for four, maybe five hours or it’s gonna start irritating me. The straps start digging into you and it’s not like I can just let them hang or anything.”

I can see a sense of relief wash over his face. He thought I meant it another way. Well, that’s true too.

“It’s too tight on me as it is, anyway. I’m sure another woman could fit into it better.”

He continues looking at me, a hint of dissatisfaction in what I’m saying.

“But at the same time, it’s too big. A size 6 makes it bulge out everywhere.”

“Abb.” He stops me from speaking. “I think you pull it off pretty well.”

I fail to match his energy and shrug my shoulders. “Eh.” I lift it off the bed and fold it neatly, placing it on my throw blanket.

“You do.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he deadpans.

Given the tone of his voice, I can’t help but think if maybe when he helped me with the zipper that night, he dragged it all the way down. He could’ve easily danced his fingers across my back. He could’ve gently pushed the straps off to each side of my shoulder. He could’ve guided me back into him, into his own body, me already a third of the way naked in front of him at his own expense. He could’ve reached his way inside and placed his hands anywhere he pleased, hoping to get a reaction out of me.

But he didn’t.

Only because he wanted to be respectful.

And now, after the kiss, I’m sure past occurrences of what’s deemed as “helping out a friend” was just a warmup for having to help me out of my own clothes.

Am I overthinking it? Yes.

Do I have a valid reason? No.

I shove the thought to the back of my mind and regain the focus on Jimmy, who’s now leaning against the dresser. “It’s up to you,” he says. “I just don’t know why’d you wanna waste an outfit like that.”

I sit on my bed, my right leg dangling off it. “Because I just don’t like it anymore.”

“And how could that possibly be?”

“Because it’s not me!” I shout. I didn’t mean to. It’s a heat of the moment thing.

I stare down at my hand grabbing onto my comforter. I look up to see him crossing his arms, staring out past the door.

I scoff. “God, why are we getting so worked up over a dress?”

He doesn’t respond.

“You know what? Fine. I’ll keep it.” I stand up, folded dress in hand, only for it to slightly tilt and undo itself. I wave it in front of him, holding both straps around one hand and motioning back to the closet, opening the door back up and reaching in to drag out my shirts and dresses container, opening the lid and placing it in on the very top before shutting it and pushing the container back until it hits the wall. I shut the door again. “Now you know where to find it,” I snap back. “Feel free to cut the straps.”

I turn around only for hands to grip me at the curve of my elbows and push me back against the closet, eliciting a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I look up to see him staring down at me. It’s not a feeling I enjoy.

I do my best to look past him. This is like what happened in the bathroom, only with the tiniest amount of worked up nerves. I happened to get on his last one, apparently.

He pins me to the closet as he steps forward, invading what’s left of my space. He moves his head down to my level and rotates his mouth to line up with my ear. “I wasn’t gonna admit it that night,” he whispers, a tinge of anger present in his voice, “but I somewhat stumbled over my words because I thought you looked incredibly sexy.” His breath bounces off my ear, and I can feel my knees somewhat bend. 

“But now that everything’s changed,” he rasps, “I can admit that now. I’d love for you to wear it again.”

I swallow. “When?”

“Anytime you want.” His voice sounds like melted butter, all smooth and strung out. “Keep it for me, yeah?”

“I, uh, I don’t know-”

“He might’ve not seen you in it, but I got to. That counts for something, right?”

“No, it does not.” I attempt to say it confidently. “It’s only to excite you.”

“Boy, was it exciting,” he murmurs, pulling away to look back down at me. 

“Okay, I am definitely not wearing it again now.” I let out a puff of air.

“I wouldn’t doubt that just yet.” He winks and releases his hands, not saying anything else as he walks out of the room.

I stay fixated to the closet, trying to process whatever the hell that was. Flirting? The slightest bit of jealousy, even though there’s nothing to be jealous of? Something he’s keeping from me?

Whatever it is, he’s only digging himself a bigger hole by deflecting it.

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

It’s the last preseason game of the month. It just ended. I’m in the locker room after a 4-1 win over Boston. I’m exhausted. All I want to do is take the bus ride home and sink into my own bed. I didn’t get on the scoresheet tonight, but I did have 15 minutes of ice time. Take that, Jim.

I had a quick shower and changed into my arrival outfit. I kept it casual with a blue and white striped button down and white tapered pants. Thank goddess my period ended 2 days ago, otherwise everyone would be seeing red. Quite literally.

I’m sitting on the bus with my earbuds in, doing my best to fall asleep. Of course, the challenges arise when you’re not even sitting on something comfortable, let alone the fact it’s noisy, let alone the fact you don’t have the energy to talk to anybody. All you can worry about is just getting the hell back to where you like to be the most.

Home.

Except that’s not what it is.

It’s more of a hotel stay. Temporary. Unfulfilling, well, in my perspective. Torture. Uncomfortable. A last resort.

And the irony I was going back to it.

Before I can do my best to drift off, my home screen lights up with what I think is a meaningless notification. That’s until I realize it’s a text and my intuition gets the best of me. Of course it’s from you-know-who.

You played great tn

I swipe up to unlock my phone and reply.

thanks

I see the three dots appear, indicating he’s got more to say.

Want me to wait up?

I type on the keyboard.

no. you can go to bed

The three dots appear again.

Ok. Door will be unlocked

Once again, I end it.

k

It’s anticlimactic, but what else is there to say? It’s just a compliment. Nothing else to it. I drop my phone in the front pocket of my bag and place my earbuds in, ready to drain out the rest of the night.

-----------

I can already feel the blisters from my sandals as I walk down the hallway, approaching the door. I place my hand on the knob and turn it in hopes of it to open.

But it doesn’t.

I fiddle with the knob again, twisting it all the way. That doesn’t work either.

I have two choices. I can text Jimmy and let him know he “accidentally” locked me out, or I can knock vigorously on the door.

So I knock vigorously on the door.

It’s not even an entire 30 seconds before I hear the sound of a lock being detached and the door swinging open, him already in his pajamas, but not looking fully sleepy. He must’ve been starting to drift off. “The hell are you doing?” He says gravelly.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I say as I push past him, turning on the kitchen light. “You didn’t leave the door unlocked.”

He just stands there, taking in my presence, not saying a word. 

“Guess I forgot.”

I scoff, leaning my hand on the countertop. “And you told me it’d be unlocked. You got fuckin Alzheimer’s or some shit?”

“Why are we getting worked up over a locked door?” He repeats my words I shot at him a few days back. I am enraged, but don’t have the willpower to argue. It’s already a quarter to 3 in the morning. It’s a four hour ride back. No one else is awake in the world right now except us, which brings me to my next theory, given that he doesn’t look all tired. He probably did wait up for me. I literally told him not to.

I take a deep breath, tightening my grip on the counter. “Sorry.”

His gaze makes me feel small. “Don’t be. I’m the one that didn’t do it.” He walks backward onto the rug. “C’mon. Get to bed.”

I walk over to the door and shut it all the way, lifting the latch. Since I’m already over there, I turn the light off and pick up my bags, lifting them over my shoulder and walking straight down to my room. I’m expecting him to pin me to the wall. The irony he loves pinning all of his emotional problems on me.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t. I don’t even bother turning on a light, so I just place my bags down by the closet and toss my shoes down on top of them. I go to shut my door until I’m met with a tall shadow standing in the doorway.

“Fuck’s sake, what do you want?” I’m not even pissed off anymore. I don’t know how to explain it.

It’s hard to even look at him since I can barely see his face. He just stands there, occupying the doorframe.

“Goodnight,” I tell him, placing my hand on the knob and shoving the door in front of me to create a barrier.

Only for him to scare the crap out of me by slamming it back open to the side.

I dig my fingers into my palms. “You’re gonna rip that thing off the hinges if you do shit like that.”

“Maybe that’s the plan,” he mutters.

“Okay, seriously, what is your problem?” Why can’t this just wait until the morning?

“I don’t have a problem.” He still hasn’t moved from his spot.

I scoff. “Sure giving me an attitude for someone who claims they don’t have one.”

“Forget it.” 

“Well, if it’s gonna come up at this time of day, then please, Jimmy,” I narrow my eyes up at him. “Enlighten me.”

A frustrated breath comes out of his mouth. Then he turns around and walks into his room, slamming the door. He speaks from behind it. “I would never go through your dead boyfriend’s sympathy cards.”

Guess I wasn’t as sly as I thought. Damn, he really does notice anything.

“Or did you throw all of those away too?”

I lean against my doorframe. “I never got any sent here.”

“Lies.”

“You would’ve given them to me,” I retort back.

“For them to be ripped up,” he says from behind the door.

“Oh, what the hell do you know?” I’m over it at this point.

“Quite a lot for putting up with you for this long.”

I roll my eyes. I know he can’t see me, but I don’t care. “This is not what this is about.”

“What’s it about then?”

“I don’t know, Jim.” I take a brief pause. “You tell me.”

Nothing.

“Maybe you should be the one in therapy. You’re a grown man that can’t even communicate how he feels. It’s unbelievable.” I choose to not go any further, so I shut my door and lock it, giving him less of an opportunity to invade my space.

I unbutton my shirt and untuck it out of my jeans, leaving me in my bra and underwear when I hear his door open and a knock on mine. No. He is not going to see me under these circumstances.

I don’t respond as I turn around to my closet to take out a t-shirt and then to my drawer to retrieve a pair of sweats, stripping myself completely as I change.

“You awake?” He sounds sad.

I don’t breathe nor move.

He’s at his own last straw by attempting to even open the door.

“GO AWAY!!!” 

I would say it was a built up reaction. My throat hurts. I can’t help him if he doesn’t tell me what’s wrong.

The sound of his door shuts again. It worked this time.

I crawl into bed, raising my quilt up to cover half of my face. I stare at the curtains, concentrating on the uptick in my heart rate.

And then I start thinking:

Given the current reality, I’m afraid he’s suppressing himself so that he can be there for others. All I know is that I would not want to be there when, and if, he blows up. I’d be scared.

It’s just beginning.

I know exactly who his target is.

It’s me.

What’s his plan? I don’t know.

But it’s going to end in my current healing heart being broken again.

I don’t even need to guess.

Now that’s a trap you’re stuck in.

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

Cash Swanson was about to sit down to his favorite meal. Cash’s wife, Patti, knew all of his favorites and prepared a new one every night. Prior to Patti, Stafford wasn’t a big eater because he didn’t know how to cook anything that he liked, and everything that he liked cost an arm and a leg if he went out to a diner, so it was mostly hot dogs, hamburgers, tuna fish mixed into macaroni, and lots of Budweiser. He had, in fact, once characterized his diet to a group of horrified acquaintances as “burgers and beer, bitches.”

This was all BP (before Patti), so it was deep twentieth-century stuff. Stafford was a heavy-duty boomer who had gone from peanut gallery to Mouseketeer to card collector to rock and roll to Beatlemania to pothead, acidhead, deadhead, hippie, drummer, road-tripper college guy, professional, sports writer, married guy, father, farmer, gambler, divorcee, remarried guy, (AP) stepfather, grandfather, retiree, and TV addict.

Of all his myriad twentieth-century addictions, TV was the most ferocious, and CNN was rapidly becoming the snarling king of that jungle when he wasn’t watching the Mets or the Yankees or the Knicks.

Cash considered himself a twentieth-century man. He got the delivered fishwrap every day and loved it. Cash had no credit cards; he let Patti take care of all that !*&!@. He didn’t know Twitter from Fakebook, and as he often said, "couldn’t give a rat’s ass less." He didn’t have a cell phone as he appreciated his alone time almost as much as Patti, who loved it.

The news on this day was all about Charlottesville.

Despite his disdain for the 24-hour news cycle and the constant barrage of sensationalism, Cash found himself irresistibly drawn to the screen, compelled to watch what he often opposed.

Cash’s compulsion to tune into CNN was driven by a need to stay informed, even though he was fully aware that the news often left him feeling more disillusioned than enlightened. He saw the network as a snarling beast, reigning over his TV habits with a ferocity that both repelled and fascinated him. The more he watched, the more he felt the tension between wanting to stay connected to the world and wanting to escape its madness.

This dichotomy was particularly evident in his reaction to the news about Charlottesville and the removal of Confederate statues. Cash was conflicted—on one hand, he respected history and understood the significance of figures like Robert E. Lee; on the other, he recognized the toxic use of these symbols in contemporary society. CNN, with its relentless coverage and often polarizing narratives, forced Cash to confront these uncomfortable truths. It was as if the channel was holding a mirror to his own internal conflicts, magnifying his anxieties about the changing world.

The news on this day was all about Charlottesville.

That was quick, Cash thought to himself. I went from being an objective historian to a fascist Nazi just by sitting on my ass.

When he heard they were taking down the statue of Robert E. Lee, Cash wondered, Why bother with Robert E.? The guy is an iconic figure in American history. Why are they taking his ass down?

According to CNN, which is pretty much the truth, He ain’t no hero, Jim. He’s a goddamned racist, terrorist who waged war against the United States. In other words, he was a revolutionary who took a side and lost, as opposed to Washington, who took a side and won.

Then how do we deal with our brothers and sisters from the South who were related to terrorists, which means millions of folks? Do we tear them down too? You better believe if they show their racist, terrorist asses again like they did 150 years ago.

Don’t those assholes know that when they say the pledge of allegiance, they are saluting ONE republic INDIVISIBLE, goddamnit.

The issue with these statues isn’t just about history; it’s about how they’re being used in the present. Folks are using these statues as rallying points to rationalize their hatreds.

Cash didn’t hate anybody. Although, I suppose I hate Nazis. Does this mean I hate Nationalists? Does this mean I hate Socialists? And if I don’t HATE Nationalists and/or Socialists, does this make me a Nazi? I am not a goddamned Nazi.

All because of a statue. All because of a golden calf, y’all. Nobody told me there’d be days like these. Strange days indeed.

Who knows, pretty soon it might be dangerous to watch Gone With the Wind anymore or enjoy The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, maybe even Elvis.

Jeezuz Christ.

“Cash, turn off the TV. Dinner's ready.”

Cash headed for the table. Twenty minutes later, he would be a changed man. A gut full of chicken French kinda takes your mind off of anything other than digestion.

Yet, despite his grumblings, Cash couldn’t bring himself to turn off the TV. There was a part of him that thrived on the outrage, that needed to engage with the very things that disturbed him. It was a peculiar kind of masochism, where the discomfort of watching CNN became a weirdly satisfying ritual. He wasn’t just consuming news; he was grappling with it, wrestling with the implications, and trying to reconcile his own beliefs with the reality being broadcast to him. Cash was a man caught between eras, longing for the simplicity of the 20th century but unable to completely detach from the complexities of the 21st. His attachment to CNN, despite his disdain, was symbolic of this tension—he was a 20th-century man trying to make sense of a 21st-century world, one news segment at a time.

Although he never “served,” he knew enough to say “welcome home” to his brothers who had served in Nam. Stafford thought his “service” was all about doing whatever he could to get us the hell outta there.

All that was behind him now, and what was in front of him was his first serving of Chicken French. Both Cash and Patti knew that there were at least three more helpings available. Cash also knew that he would say no to anything other than the first helping and then go on to helpings two and three, intoxicating himself and pleasing Patti with his suddenly gargantuan appetite.

Cash wasn’t hungry before he caught a whiff of the French. When he saw it in front of him, he was famished as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, as if last night’s banquet didn’t count.

After dinner, Cash turned CNN, and Wolf Blitzer blitzed him again.

[iloveoutlinesiswear]

So, let's talk mechanics of Rogue Trader because it be a crunchy ass game that can get very overwhelming, especially on the first playthrough.

These are the things I learned through painful trial and error. Do not repeat my mistakes.

-Do not be ashamed to click that story mode button on your first play through. Especially if crunchy CRPG's are not your wheel house. I really wish I had done this. I legit aborted my first playthrough and started over again.

-Do not be afraid to take notes. The in game journal is very good but it doesn't cover everything, especially for keeping track of character building and trade priorities.

-Right click to expand descriptions. Any text that is a different color, you can generally click or roll over to see what it is.

-Pay attention to your journal, i.e. quest log. If you don't know where to go, peek in there. You'll have some idea of what to do next. Also, I cannot stress this enough, the Companion quests are a priority. Big game events like the Magnae Accessio will wait for you. But many of the companion quests and some side quests don't. Many of them "die" if the game ticks over into a new chapter before completing them. And companion outcomes at the end of the game hinge directly on getting those done.

-Pick your favorite companions, the reasons why are up to you. But whatever the reason, you should know exactly how they will perform both on and off the battlefield. Heinrix for example is my solo beatstick, if something nasty needs to die right the fuck now, I send him in to take care of it. Off the battlefield, he covers medicae and lore xenos checks as well as raw willpower tests. But he also buffs others with his sanctus psychic powers, as well as with his biomancy. I always take him and not just because of roleplay purposes.

-Every mid tier class has essentially points that acrue that directly affects how well their abilities work. Assassins have stacks of lethality, arch militants have stacks of versatility etc. Pay attention to how that stacks, versatility builds up by switching up attack types for example. Prioritize talents that give you more.

- Specialize. Do not make generalists. As the game progresses, checks naturally get harder. That logic skill of 150 might seem like overkill but at the end of the game, you're often looking at -50 to -70 checks. Focus on the two or three stats that benefit their class and the two or three skills that you want.

- Speaking of, skill checks matter in this game and there's a LOT of checks. These happen outside of combat, they matter in ship battles, they're everywhere. Do not stack your party with all the same skills. Because generally, if you are out and about, the game will pick the highest skill roll in the retinue and roll that. And you don't want a pack of great drinkers that can't work a doorknob between them. Everyone should have two or three skills that they master. The only exception to this is the medicae skill. Everyone needs to be able to heal everyone else, especially higher difficulty levels.

-Then there are the talents and abilities. There's heaps and heaps of them. Some are more important than others. Some are not immediately obviously important. But in general, pick the talent that buffs your class abilities first. Each ability has a matching talent.

-Do not ignore the unique talent sets that each character has, do NOT just pick what the game recommends. For example, Pasqal has a host of mechanicus derived skills, including a heal, a push and plasma weapon specialty skills. Heinrix and Idira both have psyker ranks that you need to pick as soon as they become available if you want their psykic powers to scale with the game. Cassia has her navigator powers. And so on. Ignore them to your utter misery.

- Many weapons and armor types cannot be used without the corresponding talent. Keep this in mind.

-Sad to say, your Rogue Trader will suck at some things. Karroleen, my officer/master tactician, is made of wet tissue, can't drink and hurts herself every time she hits someone but let her start talking and it's good night. This is why you have a retinue. It's rare when your RT is alone, so use them to balance out your RT and each other. Each individual might suck at a lot but as a group, they should cover everything.

- Know the difference between a tank, a half tank and a tangle squirrel. The game has a sophisticated threat priority system. Vanguard will give you a tank, arch-militant is a half tank, a blade dancer/assassin is a tangle squirrel. Vanguards can take heaps of abuse, and if you build them right, basically cannot die. Arch militants can tank but there's a time limit before they go down. A tangle squirrel can dodge and dodge and dodge, until they don't and become a puff of blood. And there will be fights when you need all three ticking away.

-Learn the health system. Hate to say it but a real gripe I have with this game is the insanely complicated health and healing system. I won't explain it here (though I can in a separate post) but learn it inside and out. Otherwise, you'll be ripping your hair out in every single combat and also after every single damn trap.

-Traps. Demolition is your friend. Lore xenos and lore warp are used to disarm traps of that type but are comparatively rare.

-Also, there is an in game encyclopedia that not only has in game definitions but also describes all of the mechanics. It's in the side bar.

-Colony Management and Trading are fairly straight forward. Trading is how you get many of the most powerful items in the game. These do have an effect on how your dynasty turns out. Colony projects also provide buffs and items, including the most powerful healing items. But, do NOT do them all. Some projects are poison pills that cost you.

-Be very very very very very conservative with your navigation points. It is possible to soft lock yourself or have to take insane risks during warp travel if you blow them all. Risk is just part of the game when it comes to warp travel.

-Space Battles. Watch out for where you will end up at the end of your move and yes, you have to use it all. Your ship also levels.

-Most importantly of all, take your time both in learning the mechanics as well as exploring the world. Rogue Trader is broken up into distinct stages, and it's generally best to exhaust everything before moving onto the next one. The game rewards exploration and if you rush, you will end up underlevelled and no one wants that. There are a few missions that are time sensitive but for the most part, exhaust your options. Go ahead, be a horrible completetionist.

What are some things you wish you knew before starting this game?

i'm sorry if i'm annoying about this but if you haven't already and you love rpgs, please check out rogue trader. you do not need to know anything about the warhammer 40k universe; the game itself does an outstanding job at explaining things organically. it's such a good game, story, writing, voice acting, overall vibes. you might hate the battle mechanics at first (especially if you come from bg3) but will end up getting addicted to the flow of it

[the-firebird69]

This is a run and really you get out there and you're trying to get there fast it's changing the race because Vegas never works. It's not about gambling and he knows it but he's a wise ass but really he's trying to do stuff and it's hard for him I'm helping out that he's got the idea and we might call it gumball run but really it's different because it's a real run so it might go back to cannonball. But we want kit cars so it goes back to gumball or bubblegum run and we're thinking bubblegum all the cars look like bubbles you can make fun of us until they see us boogie so the question is where are we going to go from where to where and he says that you're going to have special bubble gum and it's not for chewing that's going to have a message and your people will make it and I'll give it to you and to bring to Vegas the first one there I guess the message there I kind of like that and of course there's a finish line but you go in and you deliver your message this is going to be awesome and I do understand now what he's saying who went to slobs yelling s*** on the radio sticking it online it's really not needed he says.

Mac daddy

So you want us to meet at bazooka Joe wharf for the start of gumball run and it will be formally their race but it's going to smell great and we're going to see it and it's going to be intense and there's watermelon and Cherry sugar free I'll tell you what I chew bubble gum and that is the best that it's sugar free cuz you get a little bit of poison for bugs and other stuff you know what I know I can handle this I'm going to do it. And I always say don't let anything get in your way and this is not going to get in my way I'm going to do this race I'm going to do it up right and I want people to join it and it's going to be for kit cars and yeah it's not time to fastest time is the fastest time we think that's a friend of ours does the race it's not me and Sammy Hagar and some of us get in trouble and that's an old Ferrari he thinks he's win because he won't get picked on I tell you what it seems like part of it the other guys might have similar ideas but that's a kit car okay now people are starting to get it and it looks like The wraith that might be a kid car too and they got stuck somewhere Charlie Sheen is really mad and it's actually BG and the other guy is one of these grandkids I got to tell you this is so much fun

John Cena

He says it's on he's like 7 ft tall and I said no it's not

..

You little wimp I'm going to answer the race says when are we going to drive a turbo diesel truck that's very funny it's only an extra 150 lb or less it's two people so that makes sense some of them go with two people because they have a co-pilot and they work around things it's really not as easy as it sounds and these days I'm going to write it up I'm going to write it up and I make sense

Big joe

I have a message I'm going to put it on the bubble gum if you eat this you're freaking nuts no, he says okay this could take forever but really we have a lot of jokes but we need to do this this is fun and I like the idea of the bubblegum run it's fun industry and people would think of the whole time

Preston

He loves the stuff he loves getting into it he used to be treated like royalty all the time and he go to the factories and nobody would ask me questions and say hi to people he doesn't know he was fantastic now people treat him like poop but he's going to get it back and someday he's going to visit the bubblegum factory in the future when he's older and he has money and he can get around he says he's going to buy a case of sugar free of every flavor they got in sugar-free each case will be a different one and the case is not that big and he says a box and that's pretty big it's going to store it in the refrigeration this is a good idea and it's dry so they like it and they say people can buy the sugar free that's the idea and the idea is this and they know what it means and they're pretty decent fault okay for gum chewers. And now it means that just sitting there chewing gum and really that's what you're doing and they know about it this is going to be great everybody's going to start doing this stuff and Laverne and Shirley come up and they're from that plant in New York City so please let's get this going this is so much fun

Thor Freya

Yeah okay everybody's going off on it if this is great this is Life okay this is going to be awesome he said we're going to go to Vegas I think that's right and with the message and we make our own rapper and you rewrap it I got to tell you this is going to be great it's a good idea

Mac daddy

Yeah it's really mad at me and I keep abusing him really a lot and everybody else he's not old it's not used to this it's still saying stuff that you learn from me this is a good idea I know how to do mine

Trump

I know how to do mine too wait a minute if I have the other half then why drive over there now I get it

Dan

I want to be in this race this is awesome and I have to build my car it's going to be like theirs the fastest so it has to look similar yeah it's a very fast design and he said less bubble be less of a wing and I get that

Bg

It's kind of cool and the way it's designed it would go very fast it would also fly pretty easy and we need that in the future but he says that higher speeds is really kind of a nuisance and it kind of is

John Cena

Now I get it the fastest the car is you can go fast when you have when you're free to and a lot of people know where and when and he's right it's the North Dallas forty and people going to be burning down there it's going to remind us about the bridge and all sorts of things we have to do and it's true we're going to see obstructions these guys need to know okay they need to know what it's like for their people it's it's a nightmare nobody can get anywhere with all this dumb s*** going on idiots saying dumb s*** everywhere dumping crap you're making it like 10 times harder than it than it was and it's already too hard for what's going on so we're going to get ready this is a terrific idea

Thor Freya

We thank you for putting the image in there now he didn't do it but it would have been nice to see that we use the product at work and he's thinking about it and we're going to have a tickler if it doesn't work we're going to help out and we have but yeah sugar free it's got a lot of attention this is terrific

Ladies from the office at tops which is now owned by a different company Apex and we're seeing it just so you know and Apex is not Trump and it is not Mac or been it is a Mac we think

Olympus

So I'm in the race okay and he says I wouldn't have it any other way that makes it that much better and reality and it's going to sell gum I'll tell you what though that was him the last part but you guys get it wrong and start talking your asses off usually you get almost everything wrong but this is a great product and he wants to come back and we're going to do that the stupid riddles don't do anything for anyone and he says if you have a different time but the two income that's the bubble gum has to have the comics and these guys demanded and demand it and yeah we'll see what happens I like the riddles and stuff

Apex CEO actually on the chairman of the board but okay

[blindfoolchasingbutterflies]

I could piss and moan for a long time and I've wanted to but for now let me just say that in terms of my own personal engagement with this game, I am so fed up and frustrated with it. It's format or whatever the fuck it's called is just not for me. It's killing my buzz and taking the enjoyment out of it. :/

I would need to pull 300 times if I want to redeem both Halloween Cater and Halloween Vil, both cards I really reeeeeeeeeeeeealllllly wanted. And LMFAOOOOOOO that's not going to happen. I can't even do 150 for just one of them. I wonder how many hundreds of dollars (lbr) that'd be to pull on nothing but paid gems. Which is ridiculous.... I'm dumb and don't math well so I don't feel like trying to figure it out.

I laughed when I saw the What's Coming at the end of Dec. I knew that shit was going to happen and all his cards were more or less going to bunch up in a short amount of time. Two in one month, oof. They love doing that, greedy af. After yet another banner with garbage-ass pulls there's no way I can pull on his dorm uniform, so that's great. I'm actually really pretty fucking salty about it. I've amassed enough cosmic shit to fully level up three ssr cosmic spells and have enough perfumes to uncap him 3 times, but alas. I was wrong a few months ago and still no Tamashina-Mina event but I don't see how they can keep delaying it and at this point I'm going to assume I need 200 pulls again to get Leona's card, so yeah. After that I'm going to be left with peanuts. Fun. The anni banner is apparently giving out 30 free pulls but I'm not excited about it. Anytime they've given out free pulls I've gotten nothing but crap so I don't expect any luck there whatsoever.

Completely unrelated but it's so annoying how everyone just assumes you use other sites, or I guess people mostly think of the internet as endless apps now. That's weird to me, it used to just be websites but now every goddamn site has an app and that's what people primarily use. But yeah, people will just link to shit on other sites for everything and that's useless to me. I can't see it or engage with it because I don't and won't (I outright refuse) to get accounts there. I get why they do it, the vast majority of people have no problem signing up and using these places so I'm the odd one out. It's literally what everyone uses, even pretty much all the official sources for anything and everything ever so I miss out on a lot.

Oh, a few days ago now when I opened up two separate tabs, tumblr's layout briefly (and I mean briefly) went back the original design it used to have. I got excited and thought that in addition to getting rid of live they had gotten rid of the cluttered mess it is now. Wonder what that was about......

EDIT: Really hate how the fucking "keep reading" doesn't work like it used it either. Ugh.