#the avocados at law are back

[chvoswxtch]

seeing pictures of charlie, elden, and deb back on set together and looking so happy legitimately makes me emotional like we really got them back y’all

we as a fandom fucking did THAT 🥲

[bugboygenius]

EVERYBODY STAY FUCKING CALM

CHARLIE, DEBORAH, AND ELDEN ON THE SET OF DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN !!!!!

[thekarenpagebulletin]

HOLY GUACAMOLE

THEY’RE BACK

I’M SO HAPPY AHHH !!!!

[1988-fiend]

The Woobles came out with an Avocado.

They have named him Mateo.

I must remind myself that in fact I have all the materials to make a mini avocado crochet being already, and all I would need is a pattern, in order to name him Mateo myself.

Yet my fangirl brain breaks every time and I come back to this…

[onyxedskies]

Im reading your Bitter Nostalgia fic and I like guessing who the Three Houses characters are when you don't specify who it is until the end. I got all of them right, which gave me a sense of pride, like yes, my 300+ hours in Three Houses didn't go to waste

AWW IM SO GLAD TO HEAR YOURE ENJOYING OMG!!! if people are interested i do have some of a side story with the characters who aren’t currently involved written out so i may post that hehe

[jedi-bird]

Got the new cacti and succulent in their bigger temporary pots. Tidied up the patio a bit more and weeded most of the pots. Moved the stuff off the old barbecue because my partner decided they don't want to get it fixed (to be fair it's pretty rusted in some questionable places); hopefully they'll set up an appointment to get the junk in the yard hauled away sooner rather than later. Finished planting the new stuff from the weekend, though I might move one of them once I get home drilled in the new pots and get the last of the soil. Also trimmed part of the juniper (need a ladder for the rest of it unfortunately).

Spent about two hours outside and it's not really noticeable but that's okay. I did sit for a while and used the Merlin bird app to try and figure out who was out there today. Apparently there is a northern cardinal on our hill but I've yet to see it; the app picked up it's sound twice now and I'm keeping an eye out because they are rare in our area. Now it is tea time and shower time if partner doesn't want to run any errands after they finally wake up.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Never Grow Up-T.V.

Alessia Russo x Reader x daughter

Warnings: haven’t written anything in a while so if it’s terrible writing please bear with me as I get my head back into it. Not everyone’s experience with anxiety is the same this is mine, the feelings I get so it might not match with yours . Anyway enjoy

“I’m pregnant”

She’s pregnant, Alessia’s pregnant, your wife is pregnant.

This is what you wanted, what you both wanted, so why do you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach, why has a knot formed in your chest.

This is what you wanted, all you have ever wanted, a family with Alessia, yet you feel a sense of impending doom, failure even as your wife looks at you with tears spilling softly down her rose tinted cheeks. Happy tears. Alessia’s happy, over the moon even. But all you feel is anxiety, nerves, impending doom.

You plaster on a smile and pull her into you as tightly as you can whispering how much you love her, how excited you are, how you can’t wait to meet them.

You tell your families fourteen weeks later, just as a small bump begins to form and you stand back and watch as Alessia’s family jump from where they are sitting, her brothers get to her first both wrapping her in a hug, just the three of them, then her sister in law Lauren, and finally her parents. You don’t move though, you can’t that feeling of impending doom, of failure seeps back into your bones like an old friend, you move on autopilot as Alessia’s family move from her to you. You don’t hear them as they spout their congratulations to you, yet you answer with quite thank yous, autopilot stays in complete control even as Alessia moves to you wrapping her arms tightly around, squeezing you her excitement, relief radiating from her like the sun.

You don’t tell anyone else she’s pregnant, Alessia tells everyone, she tells your friends, your band, your team, her friends, her teams. She can tell there is something wrong but she puts it down to the pressure of trying to finish a tour while she’s pregnant, that your worried about her and bump and so she tries to calm your woes by updating you on every little thing.

“Bump is the size of a peach”

“Bump is the size of an Avocado”

“Bumps the size of a Banana”

“It’s my twenty week scan tomorrow baby, you’re still able to come aren’t you, they can tell if bump is a boy or a girl.”

You hadn’t been to a scan since the ten week check up, you had tried, really you had but with the tour and that sense of impending doom you had been unable, you couldn’t miss this one, not the halfway mark, it would be unfair to Alessia, to bump. So you go.

You hold her hand the entire way to the hospital, you squeeze it tighter as you walk the halls of the hospital, so tight that Alessia looks at you her eyebrows pushed together, worry etched across her face.

“Do you wish to know the sex of the baby.”

You watch as Alessia adjusts herself on the bed, as she tells the radiographer no, that it’s a surprise.

As the image of bump comes on the screen you grab Alessia’s hand, as the heart beat, bumps heart beat sounds through the speakers you welcome in that old friend anxiety, you don’t welcome it really, you hate it, you hate feeling this way, the sense of impending doom, of failure running through you.

You feel sick as your eyes flick between Alessia and the baby on the screen, your baby.

Autopilot mode kicks in shortly after and you spend the rest of the day floating around on it. You feel terrible, both with this constant feeling weighing you down as well as the feeling and thoughts of letting Alessia down, of disappearing and going on tour, of disappointing her throughout her pregnancy and in the future when you officially become a mum.

Alessia doesn’t know what to do, your there but your not there and it’s been like this for months, but you won’t talk to her, if you just talked to her she could put your mind at ease she knows she could.

You finish your tour a month before Alessia’s due date, you arrive home and although you had been popping in and out through it all you feel as though you have missed so much.

“Bump is the size of cos lettuce.”

“Bump definitely takes after me, definitely a striker in the future.”

“Bump has lungs now, baby I made lungs, that’s so crazy.”

“Do you want to feel Bump kick”

That feeling doesn’t leave you for the remaining month of Alessia’s pregnancy, you can’t tell her, she is to excited, she will think your being silly, but you have to talk to someone, that’s how you find yourself outside the Russo family home, your mother in law looking at you face etched with worry.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do. I-I’m so lost.”

You blink as you realise you’re sitting in the Russo’s kitchen, cup of tea in-front of you as both of your in-laws look at you concerned.

“What’s going on darling.”

“I-I’m failing Alessia.”

“I-I’m failing Bump.”

Carol grabs your hand, “oh darling you haven’t failed anyone, what’s going on.”

You want to tell them you do, you want their help but you can’t help but think about the disappointed look on Alessia’s face when you get home and she sees you went to her parents instead of her.

“I’m sorry I-I have to go…I really am sorry I wasted your time.”

Your home before you feel like you have even taken a chance to breathe.

“Y/n”

Alessia’s knocking on your car window, wrapped in your jacket, she’s still shaking slightly, you can’t let her freeze out here, you can’t let Bump freeze and so your out of the car arms wrapped around Alessia as you pull her inside.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n what’s going on.”

Your back is turned as you make the both of you a hot chocolate, but Alessia can see the knot forming in your shoulders, the tension.

“How do you know you’re going to be able to do this, that you’re going to be a good mum.”

Alessia’s eyes soften immediately her hands going to rub her bump in comfort.

“I don’t, I have no idea what’s going to happen when Bump gets here but I know I’m going to try my best, that you are going to try your best and together we are going to do everything we can to raise Bump the best we can.”

“I-I went to your parent’s house, I-I left shortly after because I didn’t want you to feel like disappointed or sad in yourself for me not being able to talk to you but I feel like a failure.”

Alessia moves around the kitchen island so she’s standing on the same side as you but doesn’t close the gap to you, you need your space right now and she knows that, of course she does.

“I understand baby, I do. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t me but thank you for telling me how you feel. But I need you to explain to me why you feel this way, why do you feel like a failure?”

You don’t look at her, your eyes drop from her hands tracing circles on Bump to the floor.

“I-I don’t, I have this feeling, the feeling like a knot in my chest and my stomach drops and I get this sense of impending doom, of failure and it’s been with me since you told me you were pregnant.”

“Y/n”

“I want this, I have wanted this forever, with you forever but I just, you told me and this feeling creeped in and I can’t shake it, but I need you to know I want this.”

Alessia steps forward now grabbing your face softly between her hands.

“I never doubted you wanting this, not once but I did notice you going quite on me and I can only help when you tell me, I’m scared too trust me but we are a team, we will face this together.”

Alessia’s words settle you slightly but still that feeling follows you, it follows you the entire way to the birth of your daughter.

“It’s a girl.”

A girl, you have a daughter, a baby girl.

“Amelia”

“Amelia Mariona Russo”

She was here and she was perfect so perfect you were scared to hold her.

“You won’t break her.”

The nurse tries to get you to sit down, your t-shirt off for skin to skin but you can’t, you don’t want to break her.

Alessia shuffles on the bed and pulls you into her so you’re sitting on the bed with her, she pulls your t-shirt off and nods to the nurse as she brings your daughter over, she’s resting on your chest before you can blink and your hands shake as you try to figure out what to do, how to hold her.

“Just lie back with me and relax.”

You do, you lie beside Alessia for an hour before the nurse comes back in and takes her away for her checks.

Alessia falls asleep and you feel lost so you decide to go for a walk, head to the gift shop, you’re proud of yourself, you held your daughter, you didn’t break her.

But that comes crashing down as you come up to the nurses station.

“Her wife is incompetent, honestly I feel so sorry for her she had to move over on her bed to get her wife to hold their daughter, like come on the girl just gave birth and had to baby her own wife.”

You are failing.

The Russo’s arrive a short while later, you hand Luca the ballon’s you had gotten your girls as you sit outside the room, your failing.

You can’t fail, Alessia’s to good for you to fail, Amelia is to perfect for you to fail.

Alessia and Amelia are kept only for one more day, you stand in the corner out of the way as you watch the nurse talk to Alessia, explaining things to her, telling her if she needs anyone to call her, even she knows you failing, that your a failure.

You carry Amelia out along with all the bags, it’s the least you can do you think, Alessia has done so much, will do so much. You drive home the slowest Alessia has ever seen you drive and she can’t help but add it to the tally of things you do, are doing to be a good mum.

There is a pile of books on the kitchen counter, books about baby’s, about raising baby’s, kids, teenagers.

“What are these.”

You set Amelia’s baby carrier on the counter, pushing it in incase she rocks it so it doesn’t fall off the counter.

She’s two days old, she hasn’t opened her eyes for more than an hour, she can’t rock a baby carrier, but you can’t help it.

“Books, for-for me I-i want to be perfect for her,for you and these can help-I heard the nurses say these can help.”

She’s here but the feeling doesn’t leave, the feeling of impending doom, of failure, of anxiety.

You help as best you can, as best you can while barely holding her.

She doesn’t sleep well, you get up every time, you hold her then, you try to settle her by yourself, prove to yourself, to her, to Alessia that you can do this, you do everything those stupid books tell you you should do to get her to settle but nothing works. You find yourself waking up your exhausted wife, Alessia, every night.

“I’m-I-she won’t settle, I’ve tried everything but she-she won’t settle.”

“I-I don’t know what to do, I-I’m so sorry I know I should know what to do but I-please help.”

Alessia is patient, so patient with you and you don’t know why.

Your trying, your trying so hard and she loves that about you, that you wake up at all hours of the night trying to do everything to make your daughter happy, to settle but it’s a hard job, but she is happy to help every time because you try, your trying.

It takes Alessia all of five minutes to get her to settle and back to sleep and you can’t help but feel yourself sinking more and more.

Weeks pass and every night is the same, every night you try and try and try and every night you fail, again and again.

Your not there when the nurse calls in, after the first visit where the nurse sent you to make her and Alessia tea and brought Alessia and Amelia into the living room before you had even made your own you took that as a hint, the nurse ones you were a failure, she didn’t want to waist her breath on you, Alessia knew what she was doing. So you make a habit out of not being there that is until you have to go to the hospital for Amelia’s six week check up.

Amelia turns six weeks in a blink of an eye and you’re back at the hospital to make sure she’s still perfect. Of course she’s still perfect.

“How are you today Mrs Russo.”

Alessia holds your hand as you hold Amelia in the other, you’re holding her more often now.

“I’m good, we are good.”

“I can see someone is finally stepping into their role.”

Alessia feels you tense, she hates this, she hates the way the nurse treats you, as if you’re just a little blip in her and Amelia’s life.

“What do you mean.”

The nurse looks taken aback.

She answers but you don’t hear her, you look down at the baby sitting in your lap as you take in her face, she looks just like Alessia, she’s perfect and you’re still failing.

Everyone can see that.

You don’t remember anything else happening but Alessia pulling you out of the seat and walking to the door, you don’t hear her shouting at the nurse for being so rude, for not understanding.

Your not failing, your learning how to swim and sometimes when you start to get to the deep end you panic a little but it’s getting easier to just keep going, Alessia can see that, she can feel that.

You hold Amelia more, you don’t wake her up in the night to help settle her as much anymore, she can see it, everyone can see it but you.

Amelia has these big blue eyes, you’ve read somewhere that they will change colour in a few months but you hope they don’t, she has the most perfect big blue eyes, Alessia has seen them but never noticed how they constantly search for you until now.

Now at four o’clock in the morning as Amelia won’t settle and Alessia is getting restless not feeling you beside her that she wanders the house in search of you both, only to stumble into your studio.

Your playing guitar, chords she hasn’t heard you play before, Amelia perched on top of the instruments body head turned looking straight at you her big blue eyes watching your every facial feature as she smiles.

She’s smiling

Oh my god she’s smiling, actually smiling for the first time and it’s for you, because of you.

You don’t take your eyes off her as you hum the melody and play the chords.

You don’t take your eyes off of her as you begin to sing a song you’ve written just for her.

Alessia can’t take her eyes off you both as you continue to sing, your perfect, your both perfect, so perfect.

You aren’t a failure, you are still struggling through the water but you’re slowly learning to float, to swim and she can see that in the way your shoulders are so relaxed singing to your daughter.

You are a complete different Y/n than the one who stood crying in the kitchen a month ago, worrying about letting her down, about letting Amelia down.

This is it she thinks, you ever feel like that again, where the anxiety is so bad you have this feeling of impending doom over you, seeping into your bones, she’ll remind you of this, the moment you made your daughter smile, you settled her, all while writing a song for her.

You’re perfect, Amelia is perfect, Alessia is perfect, this little family you have created is perfect.

[bokunoheros]

ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER - day 12 squirting : shouta aizawa/eraserhead

warnings : afab reader, reader and aizawa are married, y’all have a cat, pussy slapping (pun probably intended), this is doo-doo dog shit, like this actually sucks, doo doo fart ass, dookie, poo poo fart, smegma, this fic reads like what sharting yourself feels like, this fic smells like the family bathroom at walmart, we’re fucking twelve (not literally), don’t expect anything else genuinely, butt, pretend this was never posted, PLEASE, day 12 is NOT REAL, THEY HIT THE PENTAGON— MR PRESIDENT GET DOW— bill gates did it, bill cypher is canon, squirting, fingering idk, eating ass, butthole rimming, 2024 election, ellen digestive did 9/11, Trump x Biden, 9/11, hilary emails included, proof of aliens existence, video footage of the area 51 raid, UFOs, alien butt sex, wrong usage of condoms, anal probing, biological dna harboring, sickle cell anemia, KLANCE is canon, Steven universe, major character death, gem fusions, love children, feel like cinderella naega byeonhae, NETFLIX ORIGIONAL, only on Hulu, Elsa x Jackfrost smut, playdough, me x YOU, tiana x nanami au, your mom x me, sarcamouche x kazuha, xiao x venti, improper use of crack cocaine, making herion, mentions of drug mules, dead dove: do eat, improper use of magic, meth making, cocaine balloons bursting, Harry Potter x Snape, hermoine x the whomping willow, herobrine x steve, unfortunate uses of pixels, bakudeku slime, hnnng harder daddy, mmhppgh— yeah yeah right there, cum consumption, cumflation, feeder fetish, oh yeah, koolaid man x me, very improper use of koolaid packets, nickacaco avocado weight loss journey, apology videos (tears included), , banjos, jake paul dcead body in forest footage (NOT CLICKBAIT), live leak posts, webtoon origional, anal stretching, did you know the human anus can stretch to the size of a raccoon?, now you know that, and also, the sun will explode June 17th, 3028, character flaws, bodily anatomy, your balls will explode on october 21st at 7:99am, my gleeby deeby ass, futurama, Micheal Angelo, improper use of abortions, medical surgery on a grape, plastic surgery, baby killing, tampon usage, description of endangered animal poaching, Mario Kart, tuberculosis, ima get it donnnne oh aye oh aye oh, butt stuff, dazai x chuuya, atsushi x akutagawa, mpreg, mad cow disease, omegaverse, ranpo x me, Dream SMP, matpat x scott cowthan, michael afton x freddy fazbear, aggressive typing, bath salts, bath salt inhalation, whippets, galaxy gas, all might is a bottom, skinny men, carrington x shigaraki, anorexia anorexia anorexia, afo x nana shimura, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, TW gun law debates, tenko x mon, Amazon delivery, school shootings, talk of gun laws, bad dragon toys, silicon, aoyama belly button leaking, lego ninjago r34, ninja turtles r34, bloody mary r34, kamala harris r34, tenya iida x tensei iida, jesus x judas, luigi x bowser, sonic and shadow makeout sesh, i fuck your dad, suck his dick reallll nice, penis sounding with dirty twig, orgasm denial, overstimulation, xenotransplants, oviposition, diaper Taco Bell, people die, revival, dark magic, ecoterrorism, global warming, chemical warfare, wanda x the winter soldier, haruhi x tamaki suoh, cosmo x wanda, comicon, bronies, pegasisters, mentions of twilight sparkle dying, twiilight sparkle x mordecai, air planes, shootings stars, night skies, NLE Choppa, we could really use a wish bro, TuPac is back, floppa carts: plompy haze, death of a platform known as tumblr, twitter referred to as X, elon musk creates sex robot that specializes in butthole sex, Tesla sex robot, androids that FUCK, necrophilia, android phone usage, pheromones, premonitions and words of Jesus, divine intution, potion making, heavenly visions, satan, satanic visions, the heavenly principles, celestia is above mondstadt, spiritual healing, veganism, white washing, canon hispanic hanta sero, futanari, blasian mina ashido, bovine spongiforms, Tenya Iida virginity loss, bakugo is a fucking faggot, handjobs, footjobs, peaceful protests, the government is controlling you through vaccines, asian fishing,

vaccines might cause autism, freshwater fishing, they will, xenophobia, hentai hucows, incest, usage of slurs, starbucks coffee, lizards run the world, obama might be a lizard, inappropriate use of baby oil, gojo x getou, day twelve never existed and it was all a lie.

word count : 420k words and 69 pages

🐙 note : we are not locked in we are as loose as a ran through sorority president

🦊 note : i am. i have no words. idek what happened. we ran out of time so we went with the option we thought might make people giggle (no we didnt we did this bullshit for ourselves)(your regularly scheduled content will resume tmr!)

🪲 note : i ain’t fucking sorry

you adored your husband—shouta aizawa—so much so, that you were his dedicated housewife. he made plenty of money as a pro hero and… enough… as a teacher, so that left you to take care of the house and your shared cat. though when he did come home he was way different than he was at work, usually at work he was all nonchalant and cold but at home he was sweet and caring, sometimes even a bit rough. his students would definitely describe him as laid back and uninterested, yet when you were around they were in awe of his personality shift.

[imposterogers]

BABES THERE ARE REAL TEARS IN MH EYES ITS FOR REAL!!!!!!!!! ITS FOR REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE AVOCADOS IN LAW ARE BACK

[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary: After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3585

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️

@paigereeder @pinkwithhearts @jstarr86 @biancasreign @angiedawn02 @fearlesschimera @empressdede

7.

TIANA It was eleven in the morning as I had woken up from my slumber, stretching my body and arms while yawing and seeing Jey still sleeping peacefully; I hope he had forgotten about beating Kai's ass today because, honestly, I didn't want him to do it. After all, Kai is just a waste of time.

I played with Jey's messy hair, causing him to shift in his sleep. I giggled while getting up to cook some breakfast for us before heading into the shower.

I threw on some comfortable clothes while going downstairs to the kitchen. Meanwhile, I saw Bianca sitting on the couch watching TV as her eyes darted towards my direction.

"Hey girl I didn't know you were here." Bianca said.

"Yeah, I was here yesterday," I said, grabbing the boxes of eggs from the refrigerator.

"What you finna make? Wait, is Joshua here?"

I nodded my head, yes, as a smirk appeared on her face. I just rolled my eyes at her—she was so dirty-minded—until she spoke, "Any tea?"

I turned my head around and looked at her. " Yeah, girl, it's a lot of tea." Once I had said that, she sat up quickly, ready for me to spill.

✧.* After cooking breakfast, I was spilling the tea to Bianca about Kai and Kehlani and how Jey wants to beat his ass today for putting his hands on me.

She rooted for him to do so because she'd been tired of Kai ever since he and I started dating each other for about two or three years.

"Girrrrrl, you need to let him do it, " she encouraged me as I stuff my face with food.

"I mean, I said I wasn't stopping him from doing it; that's his choice, not mine," I said as Bianca and I heard footsteps coming down the steps.

We both turned around, only to see Jey walking in the kitchen, getting something from the refrigerator. His eyes darted in my direction.

"Good morning, brother-in-law," Bianca said as I looked at her with a shocked expression.

He chuckled at her comment, "Hey, B." He came towards my direction as I stood up wiping my mouth with a napkin, he hugged me while I stood up on my tippy toes hugging him back as I gave him a kiss on the lips.

"Good morning, mamas. It smells good in here, " he said while grabbing a piece of avocado toast.

"Yeah, I decided to make some breakfast before I go open shop for today." I heard him sigh deeply.

"Do you gotta open shop today?" He whined softly as i chuckle at him.

"Yes, boy, you know my clients want their nails done. I mean, what did you have in mind?"

"I mean, I wanted to spend time with my shawty today." He said, flirting with me.

I smiled at him while playing with his messy mullet, "We can if you want to watch me work." He shrugged his shoulders, agreeing to it.

"As long as I'm spending time with'chu for the day I'll be ight mama."

'That nickname just rolls off his tongue like magic.'

"Also.... are Jon and Trin still in town?" I asked.

"Yeah, I mean, we can go hang out at my crib if you all want to, of course." Bianca and I looked at each other and then back at Jey, nodding our heads in agreement.

"Ight then, are you comin' in the shower with me or what?" Jey asked.

He didn't have to tell me twice as I followed him upstairs to take a shower with him.

✧.* JEY I was at Tiana's nail shop with her today. Since I'm off work and the tattoo shop is closed today, I just decided to spend time with my lady and see her do her work.

She looked so focused and polite with her clients. Even when they caught glances at me, her face would turn up instantly filled with Jealousy, but she knew to pay attention to these women who came and went.

I haven't forgotten about her ex-boyfriend either. I'm still standing on what I was doing to beat his ass when I see them because he doesn't got any right to be putting his hands on Tiana like that.

Twin📌: what's up Uce? Jey: y'all busy later on Uce? Twin📌: nah, why? Jey: I was thinking maybe we should hangout today at my Crib you know chill n shi Twin📌: I mean I'm down fasho, just don't be loud when you and Tiana fucking uce. Jey📌: mane that's my house last time I check 😭 Twin📌: ight my fault my fault.

Unknown number sent 2+ messages.

'Who the fuck is this?'

Unknown Number: Jeyyy babyyy I miss you please I'm sorry about what happened. Jey: Kehlani please gtfo ion' got time to be dealing with yo' delusional ass. Unknown Number: Nigga yk what fuck you, honestly is her pussy that good? Better than mines?

'This gotta be a fucking joke right?'

'Is she serious right now?'

Jey: that's none of your concern Lani, leave me tf alone dawg. Unknown Number: fuck you, you know she isn't better than me. Jey: she really is but ok😐

I blocked her ass while sighing I'm glad I broke up with her ass she was just a hoe anyways, I've seen Tiana scrolling through her phone as I walked up behind her wrapping my arms around her waist causing her to jump a little bit.

She hit me on the arm, making me wince from her little hits as I scooped her up by her thighs, kissing her face.

"You on break mamas?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think after these three clients, I'll be done for today. Have you talked to your brother?" Tiana said.

"Yeah, they're going to be there today, so bring your bathing suit." She smiled at me as I put her down, seeing someone pull into the parking lot while I went back to what I was doing.

✧.* We were at my crib chilling, smoking weed enjoying the weather as I was in the house talking to the guys about the whole situation with ol' boy.

They could understand where I am coming from because when I was with Kehlani ass she was fucking around with some dude that I had to beat his ass for being disrespectful but Kehlani didn't really seem to care about what she did.

She still went back to the dude after I whooped his ass just made me feel heavy.

"aye, uce you gotta do what you got to do, even if Tiana tells you no it's a waste of your time who knows when he'll show up and just do it again." Montez said.

"That's what I've been saying uce." I said.

"After all, we got your back if something pops off." Jimmy said.

I wish something would pop off at my crib because anybody will get fucked up honestly, I've seen Tiana talking with girls as she coming back inside to probably get another blunt.

She looked so good in her bathing suit but I knew I had to keep my composure since we had guest I ain't wanna beat her shit in while they're here so I'll wait.

But I've seen her facial expression changed when she looked at her phone, she looked at me then back at her phone me feeling concerned I went up to see to see what was up.

"Mama, what's wrong?" I asked.

She showed me her phone with messages between her and her ex-boyfriend when I read the messages I just smirked while chuckling darkly.

'This dude don't quit does he?'

"He wanna pull up?  Tell em he can pull up." I said.

"Josh ion'—— tell him he can pull up Tiana. I want all the smoke with ol' boy since he wanna play. Let's give him a show." I cut her off mid-sentence before she could say something.

She nodded her head lightly as she went back outside to the pool with the girls, as I did the same with the guys.

"What happened uce?" Jimmy asked.

"Her ex wanna pull up to 'beat' my ass, so I just told her to tell him to pull up. I wanna give him a show, yall got my back if shit hits the fan, right?" I replied. They all nodded their heads yes.

We kept passing the blunts back and forth to each other, waiting on this dude to come pull up because I've been waiting all day to beat his ass. I'll do him worst than I did the last time.

We saw a light coming through the window. When I noticed a car pulling up in my driveway, I just knew it was the ol' boy, so I signaled the guys to meet me outside.

I stood outside with my arms folded over my chest, seeing him coming out of the car with his boys, knowing that this would be a long night.

"Where's Tiana at?" Malakai asked.

"Why yo' ass worried about my girl?" I questioned him while maintaining my distance.

He chuckled a bit while putting his hands on his hips, staring at me, "Man, stop playin' bring her ass here."

'He's more delusional than I thought.'

'He's worse than Kehlani'

I called for Tiana to come here, and my voice was raspy and deep enough for her to hear me from the back. She came out front, confused as to why I called for her, and she turned her head, looking towards her ex-boyfriend.

My hand sneaked around her waist, pulling her closer to me as she held onto me.

"Kai, I think you should go home like fr." Tiana said as he scoffed at her.

"Nah, Tiana fuck that you think this bum can beat my ass? Please, I got help." He said.

"Me too, yo' ass ain't the only one with help, and again, if I were a bum, I would've been dressin' like yo' ass come up with something new." I said.

I looked over at Tiana, who stared at me with her deer-eyed eyes. I kissed her on the lips.

"Kai, I'm wondering why you want to embarrass yourself when you know you and your friends will get messed up, so go home, dude." She said, holding onto me tightly.

"You're coming with me, Tink. C'mon." She didn't move an inch as she continued to hold onto me. He looked back, seeing her not coming.

He looked pissed as he began to walk up on us, causing me to bring Tiana behind me, pushing ol' boy back, causing him to stumble.

"Go in the house, baby," I told Tiana as she went back inside with the girls.

Him and his boys began to run up on us as we began fighting each other, I was handling ol' boy ass punching him in his mouth causing him to fall down on the ground.

I got on top of him, bashing his head against the concrete while punching him in his shit. Meanwhile, Jon and Montez were body-slamming the other two on the ground.

"Yo,' ass wanna keep playin' with me, right? putting yo' hands on women? Let's give yo' ass a show, huh?" I spoke with aggression as I grabbed him by the hair, throwing him onto his car breaking his windshield.

I heard him groan in pain while holding his back like I gave a damn. His ass wanna keep playin' with me, and my girl ion' play that shit.

He tried to get back up to swing on me but missed as I sucker-punched him in his jaw as he fell back on the floor, seeing blood coming from his face.

"Next time you wanna threaten my girl, it's goin' to be worst for yo' ass." I said as I backed away from him.

Seeing him and his friends fucked up as they got back inside his car, "TIANA IMMA FUCK YO' ASS UP WHEN YOU AINT PAYIN ATTENTION!" I heard him making threats, making me run to his car, but Jon held me back.

"C'mon uce, he'll get what's comin' to him again let's go back inside the house and check on girls." Jimmy said as I nodded my head.

We went back inside the house, and seeing Tiana and the girls sitting on top of the couch, Tiana came up towards me, hugging me as I kissed her on top of her head.

"I'm okay mama, I just got a few scratches," I reassured her as she looked up at me.

She was biting the bottom of her lips, which turned me on a bit because she looked so innocent doing it.

"Honestly, he needs to be in jail, but I know his parents will bail him out," Bianca said.

"Yeah, I care about Tiana's safety for real ion' want nothing happening to her while his ass is around." Trinity said.

I was agreeing with what the girls were talking about.

"T, you gotta get a restraining order on him or it'll get worst."

She nodded her head, agreeing to the idea because that's what she needed. Anything could happen to her while she's at work or even at home when I'm not around, Bianca is not around, or Montez is not around.

"C'mon, yall let's go outback to enjoy ourselves ion' wanna keep talkin' about this." I said as we went out back to the pool.

✧.* OMNISCIENT

While everyone was swimming and smoking weed together, Tiana was sitting by herself, letting her mind take over, thinking about what had happened earlier between Jey and Malakai. She didn't know what would happen if he showed up again.

She was even worried about her safety as well, but she was concerned about Jey's safety, knowing that Malakai does own a gun, so anything could happen to him.

She felt someone touching her on her back, which made her snap out of her thoughts when she saw Bianca sitting next to her.

"Hey bestie are you okay?" Bianca asked.

"I don't know B, I'm worried about Josh's safety." Tiana said softly.

"Why you say that? You saw him hold his ground in order to protect you T." She said.

"Yeah, I get that but..."

Bianca looked uncertain as Tiana sighed, "Look B, Kai owns a gun, and I don't want nothing happening to Josh." She confessed with concern in her voice.

"You're just now saying something T!?" She yelled as everyone looked our way, including Jey.

"B! Yes, I know it's bad, but I completely forgot about that," Tiana said as she heard Bianca sighed deeply.

"Bestie, you can't be telling stuff at the last minute, even things like that. Now you have to go tell him you know what happened last time."

Tiana sighed softly. She didn't know how to explain to Jey that her crazy ex-boyfriend had a gun on him and could end up in the hospital any day if this kept happening.

She didn't even want to remember what happened last time.

FLASHBACK

"Don't point that at me Kai!" I shouted.

"Well, tell me that you won't leave me, and I'll stop pointing it at you, " he threatened.

'How could he be this manipulative towards me when all I ever did was love him and support him.'

"Kai, me and you both know that's not going to happen; you don't care about me anymore."

He scoffed at me while continuing to point the gun at me, causing me to back up.

"I! DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU?! WHEN ALL I EVER DID WAS CARE TINK!?"

"GIVING ME SEX AND THEN FUCK OTHER BITCHES ISNT CARING ABOUT ME KAI OR LEAVING ME IN THE DARK!" I shouted at him, feeling frustrated and scared.

Malakai stomped towards me as my back was against the wall feeling scared as his gun was pressing against my neck.

"I did not cheat on tink; you're just being delusional and in your head a lot," Malakai said.

He's so manipulative and a narcissist, trying to make me feel bad for feeling this way when I've been feeling like this for two years in our relationship.

It didn't seem fair that I was going through this with him. His parents think he's mentally ill, but I call bull shit.

He was pressing his gun up against my neck more further as I was shaking.

"So tell me, baby, are you goin' to leave me?" He questioned me as I shook my head not wanting to die.

A smirk appeared on his face as he pulled the gun away from my neck as I had tears coming down my cheeks while he gave me a kiss on the lips.

"Good, now go cook us something to eat because I am starving." I did as I was told, not trying to have that thing pressed up against me again.

FLASHBACK OVER.

"B, ion wanna think about that day please I'm traumatized," Tiana said.

She hugged me tightly as she pulled away. " Well, you have a man who can protect you and love you for who you are, T, and that man is Joshua. He would never leave you in the dark."

"You need to tell him he'll understand, T." Tiana looked over at Jey, who was staring at her, signaling her to come inside the house so they could talk.

She sighed as she got up from the pool and walked inside the house. He closed the door behind them, folding his arms over his chest.

"Is there something you wanna tell me mama?" He asked as he stared at her deeply.

Her mouth was opened, and she began to say something, but she closed it while looking down at her feet, fiddling with her fingers, picking at her skin.

She didn't know how to explain to him what she had to deal with when she was with Malakai. Yeah, he cheated on her, but that wasn't the whole story; she only gave him half of it.

Tiana heard him walk closer to her, and he grabbed her chin, making her stare at him. Her looking innocent made him turn on even more, but that had to wait.

"Talk to me, baby; I'm right here." Jey reassured her.

She sighed while folding her arms, "I didn't tell you the whole story of me and his relationship I only gave you half of it because I didn't want to think about all of things he did to me." She confessed as his eyebrows furrowed a bit.

"What'chu mean?"

Tiana gave Jey the whole spill about what had really happened between her and Malakai, how he would threaten her with the gun if she left him, causing her to feel trapped, her feeling manipulated by this man or gaslighting her about how she felt calling her crazy or delusional.

Telling him how she felt scared and didn't know what to do or how to leave him without feeling like he was going to kill her.

Until she could finally escape him when Bianca and Montez came to get her one night when he wasn't around packing the things that she needed as she left with them.

Jey listened to her confess everything as he stood there quietly, keeping his arms folded around his chest. She stopped talking, looking up at him in his eyes, trying to read his facial expression.

She saw concern and a bit of sadness in his eyes. He didn't know that she went through all of that with him. He unfolded his arms while hugging her tightly.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you baby." Jey said softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She nuzzled her face onto his chest as tears poured down her face, thinking about what happened.

Crying quietly in his chest as he held onto her, comforting her, kissing her on top of her head.

His eyes darted toward everyone else who was staring at them. They didn't know what was going on except for Bianca and Montez because they knew that this was hard for Tiana.

He pulled away for a second as he cupped both of her cheeks, rubbing her tears away from her face.

"I will protect you with my life Tiana and I mean that shit, I'm here for you baby I will never leave you in the dark like his dumbass did. I love you Tiana." Jey said as he kissed her on the forehead.

Tiana smiled lightly while nodding her head, "C'mon, let's enjoy ourselves, okay?"

They both walked outback with everyone else, enjoying the rest of the night.

Under Your Touch.

biancabelairwwe, MontezFordWWE, shelovekai and 288,000 people liked your post.

tianasworld: it's a healing journey. ❤️‍🩹 uceyjucey: we are doing it together mama yk I got'chu mama. 🫶🏽 tianasworld: @ uceyjucey 🥹🥹 biancabelairwwe: yes it is girl you're doing a good job. 🤍 shelovekai: what fucking healing journey? 🙄 I didn't do anything to this girl. uceyjucey: @ shelovekai gtfo. theyhatelani: pick meeeee 🙄 biancabelairwwe: @ theyhatelani girl don't get yo' ass beat you'll be next on the list hoe 💁🏽‍♀️

Read all 56,000 comments.

tianasworld replied to your story: 🥹 i love you. biancabelairwwe replied to your story: WIFEY??? Is that a sign you'll actually be my brother in law??? trinity_fatu replied to your story: IKTR BROTHERR Jonathanfatu replied to your story: wifey? you goin' make it official? lmk about the wedding uce. 😭 theyhatelani replied to your story: tuh you callin her wifey now? remember how you used to say that to me? shelovekai replied to your story: that's funny.

Welp Malakai and his goons got they asses beat yet again and I feel like bad for Tiana that she had do go through allat with him I'm glad Jey is being there for her.

Lmk what yall think in the comments. 🤍

Stay Ucey.

[newtsixtyfive]

Avocados at Law !!

Video Description Below Cut

[ID: Red and white text: "Get yo mangy ass on!" Foggy, bouncing to the beat, is pointing at Matt behind him, smiling: "Back to the kitty, cuz she's kinda pretty." Foggy is wearing a pink shirt with a blue tie. Matt is standing behind him, wearing a grey suit and red tie. He is holding his cane and staring to the right. Foggy is to the left of him. Karen is fanning herself with her hand, also bouncing to the beat: "I can't stop looking at her-" Karen is wearing a blue sleeveless blouse. Matt stands behind her, the same image as before, and Karen is to his right. "T- Face." The video zooms in on Matt's chest, and there a faint heartbeat lines fading in and out. Matt is slightly taking off his suit jacket. Then, the video shoots up to his face, and he smirks at the viewer. "Me and cat mama rolled into the distance fog." Foggy, Matt, and Karen are depicted as little chibis, and are walking. Matt seems a little flustered and they are all smiling. There is a red transition, and Matt appears on screen facing the viewer. His glasses hide his eyes, and he holds his cane in his left hand slightly up to his chest, "Little does she know," "I'm as nasty," Matt lifts his cane, and there is another red transition. "Dog!" Daredevil appears in Matt's place, grinning at the viewer as he starts bobbing to the beat. After the second "Dog!" there is a Snapchat dog filter over his face. END ID]

[avocadoletters]

What a Mess

There was nothing except stunned silence and the sound of droppings.

On the counter, on the floor, across the kitchen, beyond the lid to a blender, and most of all on you. 

With eyes closed, you could still hear him.

“Matthew–” You began slowly.

Wheezing and the compression of couch leather began.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Well honey what can I say? I thought I was–”

“MATTHEW MICHAEL–!”

“The Avocado at law!” With a bark the man without fear doubled over, laughing until he had to take his red lenses off and wipe away his tears of mirth.

Until a glob of guacamole not even he could have stopped landed splat on the back of his head.

[heartofwritiing]

Absent in the spring.

paring: q!wilbur x fem!reader (+ platonic q!philza x fem!reader)

summary: a small vacation to Phil’s beach house causes you to finally break down.

authors note: a follow-up to this fic but you don’t really have to read it. some more q!wilbur angst for you guys because I miss wilbur and tullulah content! also i made it so chayanne and tallulah talk in this lets just pretend the eggs are the human-dragon hybrids that are in fanart bc thats how i see them!

warnings: a little angsty sorry, hurt-comfort, happy end, not 100% following qsmp lore, unedited! please ignore any mistakes!

“how are you holding up?”

Phil’s voice pulls you out of your trance from fidgeting with the blades of grass next to your tucked legs.

You bring your gaze up from the lush green and watch on as Chayanne and Tallulah play tag a few feet away in the field behind Phil’s beach house.

The past month had been weary as you waited for your husband to return from his tour. Days stretched on though you kept going despite that dread in your chest of missing him.

Phil had noticed you seemed less like yourself as the month went on. You were sleeping less, and getting stressed. When he came over to help you take care of Tallulah yesterday he saw how defeated you looked while trying to keep a brave face for your daughter.

Being in an empty house wasn’t fun for anyone, especially when it was too dangerous to go outside on the server alone. So, Phil invited you out to escape that empty feeling, just for a while at least. A walk and boat ride later, you were now sat beside the man with his legs crisscrossed while he munched on avocado toast.

You had shrugged plainly to his question. Fine? Okay? you didn’t know…

Squeals and giggles erupted in your ears as you watched Tallulah finally tag a breathless Chayanne, who had gotten tired of running away from his sister and let her have a turn at the one being chased. Her little legs barely kept up with her taller older sibling as he quickly regained energy.

You couldnt help the smile that was brought upon your lips. Happy they were having such a good time together, being normal for once and not sheltered from the horrors of the server that was trying to harm them every moment. They needed this time, to be care free. To be kids.

You and Phil chuckled at their antics. Though It made your heart break thinking about Wilbur being absent. He wasn’t here to hear the sounds of his daughter's sweet giggles as she played blissfully in the tall grass. To see how she was getting along with everyone, making sure they were happy and cared for.

Wilbur hadn’t sent you a letter in a week. You understood he was busy with tour, you didn’t expect him to have much time to sit and write but your worst agitations were coming true.

The disappointment was settling in each time you would go to the mailbox by the door- you and lullah had spent a day painting and decorating to your liking, with splotches of colors and your names painted across in not-so-straight letters- it would be empty with no sign of even being open since the previous morning.

“I miss him,” you say suddenly to Phil, whose gaze shifts away from the kids to you. You keep your eyes locked on them, fearing that meeting his eyes would make you finally break down into the tears you were holding back for so long.

Phil brings his hand onto your shoulder, a simple symbol of comfort.

“Awe mate, I miss him too.” he said warmly. “he’ll be back soon, im sure of it.”

Swallowing the lump building in your throat, you were so glad you had Phil there for you in these moments. Tallulah had done a good part cheering you up but sometimes you needed a real talk.

"I thought I could do this on my own but-" you choke. "I need him, Phil. He's missed so much and I can't help but think he's gonna feel guilty for not being there for her, or for me."

You let yourself break down in-front of your father in-law finally letting go of everything you’d been holding onto the past month and a half.

Phil placed his hand on your back in support as you sobbed into your hands. The aching pain in your forehead with the slight headache building, the chest pangs told you this cry was long over due.

A tap on your shoulder brings your head out from your knees. You lift your eyes to see Chayanne standing over you, his hand stretched out with a simple white flower pinching between his little fingers. His eyes held nothing but innocence as he looked down on you solemnly. He did not understand why you were so distraught, nor did he care, he just wanted to aid you in any way that he could.

"Please don't cry, Tia Y/N," his voice was small but sympathetic, making your heart sink.

Phil looked so proud in that moment, to see his son come over to aid you with comfort made him perceive he was doing something right in raising a child for once.

Taking the flower from Chayanne, he immediately crouched down to give you a tight hug around your shoulders. Surprised but grateful, you began silently crying as another pair of little arms joined the embrace - you knew it was Tallulah. Finally, you allowed yourself to let go and broke down into tears, feeling their tight embrace.

You were so glad you had these kids. Though they didn’t understand your behavior entirely there was no judgement, only care.

“For what it's worth Y/N, you have us and we will always take care of you both.”

Of course, you knew that. Phil had always been there for you since you first met him. He took his role as a father to everyone very seriously.

“thank you for bringing us here Phil, we really needed this.” you breathe as the kids pulled away from you. Phil gives you a smile of understanding.

-

A few hours passed as you all sat on the dock, watching the last glimmer of daylight fade away over the water - casting a golden glow. Phil suggested a campfire to roast marshmallows. Tallulah and Chayanne were already running off excitedly to gather various sticks to help. Once the fire was going, you all sat together on the sand telling stories, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.

The hole in your heart was healing, and the weight on your chest lifted. You realized that even though life was rough and unpredictable, having a supportive family was what mattered, and you felt content and at peace.

You saw the others smiling, knowing the shared bond was enough.

That night you all slept at the beach house, and for the first time in a month, neither you nor Tallulah had a nightmare.

The journey the following day back to Phil’s was thankfully uneventful. Mostly just shenanigans between the two children. Collecting things like leaves for the scrapbook you and Tallulah were making for Wilbur, documenting all your adventures. Chayanne running ahead to deal with any monsters who dare cross your path.

Upon seeing the tiny house with a fenced yard, you all went your separate ways. As you opened the gate to the yard, the tall purple trees and the various flowers made you miss the tiny home.

Tallulah seemed happy to be back and automatically tried dragging you to see her turtles before you could close the gate. You asked her to be patient while you brought your bags inside.

Walking up to the front door, you heard a crash from inside and you froze. You instantly reached for your sword laying on your hip. Tallulah saw this as a warning and she quickly cowered behind your legs. Preparing for the worst, it could be anyone behind the door. Charlie looking for food, (since he was living near your house in a shed last you heard.) Quackity looking to start another fight about parenting. Or worse the code monster could’ve shown up again to take Tallulah from you.

You would die before that would happen.

Tallulah clung to your legs as you quietly unlocked the door and pushed it open. You gazed down at her and saw her worried eyes.

“If something happens I need you to teleport to abuelito and Chayannes to warn them okay?” You spoke to her firmly in hushed tones, being careful. Tallulah showed you the tiny purple stone for a quick getaway and indicated she understood.

The house was exactly as you left it, except for the suitcase and guitar bag resting against the sofa, which made you frown. Then realization settled in and a gasp escapes you.

Was he here?

Or was this another trick?

As you lowered your sword, you heard someone rustling down the ladder. The wood creaked with every step as the person in the yellow sweater came into view. With round glasses leaning down his nose, fluffy hair, and long limbs, you’d know him anywhere.

Wilbur felt relief wash over him as he stopped midway on the ladder and saw you staring at him in disbelief. as if he were a ghost. It pained him slightly. You couldn’t believe it.

Wilbur was back.

Tallulah peeked out from behind your legs and the tiny gasp she let out when she saw Wilbur. She ran into his arms and cried out;

"Papa!"

Wilbur grinned as his tearful daughter ran towards him. He scooped her up in a tight embrace as you watched, tears streaming down your own cheeks. He held her swinging back and forth gently trying to hush her cries. She was so happy to finally see him again. You had never seen such a wonderful sight of the two people you loved the most in this world.

“I missed you so much Tallulah!”

Wilbur rested his head on Tallulah’s and smiled sideways at you and reached out his arm. Without hesitation, you dropped your sword, which clanked loudly on the ground, and you rushed into his embrace.

You bury your face in his neck, holding onto his scent, his body, his everything. Never wanting to forget how he felt and sounded. Tears stream down your face, drenching his sweater, but you don't care. This time, they flow out of love and happiness, not frustration or sadness.

You all cried and held onto each other for dear life.

“I missed you so, so much my love,” he coos in your ear causing you to choke out a laugh. After missing his voice for months you were so elated to hear it again.

Wilbur sniffled as he squeezed you both tightly in his arms, never wanting to let go.

“I’m here my girls, and I am never gonna leave you again,” he whispers.

This was home.

End

[vylad243]

More out of context conversations from work but hazbin hotel (bakery edition)

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor: Oh, it's the long weekend.

Charlie: Which long weekend?

Alastor: August

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vox: Someone keeps pouring vinegar by the watermelons

Alastor: Sometimes rotten fruit smells like vinegar

Vox and Alastor: *Slowly look inside*

Vox: Well fuck

Alastor: Get the gloves

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vox: I identify as a fucking problem

Velvette: did you just say you identify as an avocado?

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Angel: I'm the biggest bitch in the store

Husk: I think I misheard you

Angel: What? What do you think I said?

Husk: That you're the pigeon in the store

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Velvette: *runs into freezer* Let me get a good sniff of you, boy

Valentino: w-what

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vox: *gives exact recipe on how to make specific sandwiches*

Vox: I need therapy

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vox: That customer totally heard you call them a bitch

Velvette: They didn't if I don't believe in it

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor: *coughs* I got turbercolosis

Vox: Jeez, who are you? Arthur Morgan?

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor: back in the old days, sailors used to commit cannibalism to stay alive when their ships wrecked

Vox: Yeah. They would just eat the weakest one

Alastor: No. They did that, and the law had to be changed over it. They all had to agree and usually randomly chose. If one party didn't agree, they couldn't do it.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vaggie: Let's just do twelve trays to be safe.

Charlie:... eleven times three is thirty-three. Thirty-three packs of hamburgers.

Vaggie:... we need five trays

Charlie: we need five trays

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vox: Okay Sherlock

Velvette: Yeah, Holmes

Vox:....

Velvette: Wait.... what's the other guy's name?

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor: I will hit you with this pan

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vaggie: Why is the bread so... deflated?

Charlie: It got too tall :(

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Vox:My stuffed whale shark named Sharky is at home, becoming my dog's stuffed shark. She keeps stealing my sharks. Please help. This is a genuine problem. I lost many to her

Angel:Does she destroy them?

Vox:She sleeps with them

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Velvette:Someone once asked me if we were siblings and I just stared at them

Vox:Maybe they thought one of us were adopted?

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Asawin Suebsaeng, Tim Dickinson, and Ryan Bort at Rolling Stone:

Donald Trump — the twice impeached former president, Jan. 6 coup leader, convicted felon, adjudicated sexual abuser, and man who mismanaged the 2020 economic implosion and coronavirus disaster that killed more than 1 million people in this country — has convinced American voters to give him another term in the White House.

After a campaign marked by nativism, open bigotry, and aspiring authoritarianism, Trump triumphed over Vice President Kamala Harris, despite being denounced by several of those who worked most closely with him in his first term as a “fascist.” The 45th president will become the 47th in late January. Trump got out to an early lead on Tuesday and never looked back, securing North Carolina and Georgia before shattering the Democratic “blue wall” of Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin. The race was called at 5:35 a.m. EST by the Associated Press after Trump earned 270 electoral college votes by winning Wisconsin. [...]

The stakes of a Trump victory could not be higher for many of the most vulnerable people living in this country. Trump’s central campaign promise has been to embark on the largest mass-deportation program in the nation’s history, a supercharged version of a racist Eisenhower-era program called “Operation Wetback.” Trump has promised to forcibly remove millions, and said that it will be a “bloody story.” He has vowed to employ local law enforcement, sheriffs, and, if necessary, the armed forces.

Trump has also vowed to use the Justice Department as an instrument of revenge on his political enemies, to crack down on media outlets that have criticized him, to hollow out the professional ranks of the federal government (and stock it full of his MAGA cronies), and to impose massive tariffs that will increase the cost of everything from avocados and automobiles to iPhones and apparel. 

America’s democracy has rarely been in a more fragile place. The country has chosen a leader who has promised to govern as a strongman, and who will not be held accountable for breaking the law, thanks to a ruling by his hand-selected, far-right Supreme Court majority that puts the presidency beyond the reach of criminal prosecution. This implausible victory — coming after a chaotic campaign that saw Democrats change candidates mid-election, and Trump galumph down the closing stretch with an increasingly bizarre series of stunts, including dressing up as a garbage man — also has huge stakes for Trump personally. 

As early as the summer of 2021, according to three sources familiar with the matter, longtime political operatives and GOP lawmakers on Capitol Hill who had remained in direct contact with Trump were coalescing around a shared belief: If the criminal investigations into the former president keep ramping up, and especially if charges materialize, there is no way he doesn’t run for the presidency again. This conviction was based on conversations these Trump allies had been having with the ex-president at the time, when Trump’s fixation on, and barely veiled anxiety about, prosecution and potential prison sentences was already palpable. As time inched closer and closer to the 2022 midterm elections, Trump would, in discussions with close advisers about running again, increasingly ramble about the unique legal protections from prosecution that a sitting American president enjoys.

Two years, several history-making indictments of a former president, and billions of dollars later, those anxieties continued to fester in Trump’s brain. Over the 2024 election season, he and his allies had brainstormed and plotted numerous ways to shield him from dire legal consequences; earlier this year, the former president personally pressured multiple Republican lawmakers to pass legislation essentially designed to keep him out of prison forever. (This law did not pass, but stay tuned.)  Trump appears in the clear for at least another four years after voters handed him his long-coveted get-out-of-jail-free card on Tuesday. [...]

Trump won this year even though — and, surely in some cases, because — he ran on imposing upon the American people and global community an openly authoritarian regime concerned largely with score-settling. In addition to pledging mass deportations, militarized crackdowns, and disassembling and reconstructing the federal government around protecting and empowering himself, the former president loudly and explicitly ran on a platform of letting fellow Americans die if he doesn’t get his way or if your local leaders don’t bend to his will. Trump has recently threatened to deny potentially life-saving natural disaster aid to states whose leaders don’t bend to his wishes, threats that should be taken seriously given his history of withholding such aid for political reasons.

[...] Trump’s win demonstrates that the most powerful people in the country are indeed above the law. An elderly, foul-mouthed, racist game-show host can try, in broad daylight, while the TV cameras are fixed on him, to execute a coup d’état in our nation’s capital, people can die from it, and in a few short years be rewarded with the full-throated support of his political party, and now the keys to the White House.

For just the 2nd time in American history, A president who previously lost an election wins a 2nd non-consecutive term, as Grover Cleveland was the first to do so.

34x convicted felon, insurrection-inciter, adjudicated rapist, fascist, and vile bigot Donald J. Trump, who tried everything he could to sabotage his re-election bid, won the 2024 elections… this time with the popular vote to likely swing his way.

Assuming the 2-terms limit applies to consecutive and nonconsecutive terms, 2028 will be a wide open Presidential election for both parties (provided that America has free elections still at that point).

[apparitionism]

Bonus

Happy particular Monday! Here’s a story for it, which came about mostly because I wanted to put a couple of people into a clichéd situation, and then I had to do leadup and aftermath... anyway, it’s intended to be a two-parter (yes, I know; aspirations) set in a not-entirely-canonical season 4, in which the Warehouse did get brought back and Helena did leave without explanation, BUT Artie doesn’t go full Father Data and Leena doesn’t suffer the consequences—mostly because Mrs. Frederic has sensed some badness to come and thus sent Artie and Leena away. Because why not? Also I have Claudia jumping into Caretakering, and even a bit of Artieing, with some enthusiasm.

P.S. I know I haven’t yet finished last year’s Christmas story—that’s a pain point—but I genuinely am working to get back on various horses, including that one. Weather (in all senses) permitting.

Bonus

“I genuinely cannot believe we’re stuck in an elevator,” Myka says. It may be the most true statement to which she’s ever given voice.

****

SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER...

Myka’s reasonably pleasant thought, burring along as background to her monotonous tasks, is I don’t mind this. She and Steve are in the Warehouse office early in the morning, doing file inventory, and it’s true: she doesn’t mind it. It’s a little lacking as a holiday activity, but with Artie, Leena, and Pete all away, “lacking” is pretty much the flavor of the moment.

Claudia pokes her head in and says, “Ping.” She’s unenthusiastic, speaking of lacking. Where’s the usual revving about what it might be this time? “At some midwestern accounting firm, because it’s important to have a boring Christmas.”

Ah. “An accounting artifact?” Myka asks. Speaking further of lacking: here, it’s artifacty zing. Then again, artifacty zing got Myka trapped in Alice’s mirror, among other catastrophes, so maybe boring isn’t so bad. “Balance sheets?” she ventures. “Pluses and minuses?”

“Some people at this pingy company just got extremely large Christmas bonuses,” Claudia says, “and some got their pay extremely docked. So yeah, ‘balance sheets, pluses and minuses’ just about covers it. Probably. I mean, I might be trying to manage expectations here.”

Claudia’s certainly right, in that getting one’s hopes up—about anything (or anyone)—is a fool’s game.

But still, there’s something to be said for boring-but-remunerative, even if only for some people... what a nice idea. “I’d like a Christmas bonus someday,” Myka says, “instead of a Christmas penalty. Which I think pretty accurately describes the Pete-plus-artifacts situation.”

“It’s two days before Christmas, and he hasn’t done anything yet,” Claudia says. “That you know of,” she amends.

“Because he’s been with his family in Ohio for the past week,” Myka points out, and she’s gratified when Claudia rolls her eyes. It’s practically a concession.

Steve says, “It’s inappropriate to say ‘Christmas’ bonus these days. It’s ‘end-of-year.’” The contribution suggests he’s listening with only one ear.

“I wish appropriateness mattered here,” Myka says, not really to him but in general. Who knows how a Warehouse HR department would make heads or tails of the application of employment laws—much less employment niceties? “Not that it makes a difference. Christmas, end-of-year... call it Fred, and we still wouldn’t get one.”

“If I ever do get a bonus, I’m absolutely naming it Fred,” Claudia declares.

Myka shakes her head. “Poor Fred. Doomed to be injected right back into the discretionary economy.”

“Inject-o-what are you even talking about?”

“Just a guess, but: you’d spend it on things you don’t need.”

Claudia harrumphs. “Thanks for lumping me in with the avocado-toast-and-Starbucks crowd. My fiscaling is way more responsible.”

“Really? What would you use Fred for?”

“Asus VG278HE gaming monitor. Plus a graphics card, maybe the Nvidia GTX 690, depending on how hefty Fred is.” At Myka’s snort, Claudia challenges, “Fine, where would you inject it?”

“My Roth IRA,” Myka says immediately. She’s not sure what assets her evil, crazy, or dead self will need in retirement, but given the many and varied forms each of those, or combinations thereof, could take, it seems like a good idea to have a financial plan in place. That’s another thing a Warehouse HR department might be useful for...

“You’re the actual human manifestation of an accounting artifact,” Claudia accuses. “Speaking of which, here’s the deal. I gotta stay here—some Mrs.-F homeworky stuff—and Steve’s busy reassuring all the misfit toys in the building that Leena hasn’t deserted them forever. And I’d say ignore the ping entirely, but your never know what’ll go viral, and I bet Artie’d say the last thing we need is another financial crisis. Or maybe you’d say it. Anyway, you’re it. And for your backup, when you get to Cleveland—”

Myka groans. “Cleveland? Seriously? Pete’s going to be so mad about you pulling him away from the family.”

“I’m not pulling him away,” Claudia says, blinking like she’s some innocent little lamb.

Myka groans again. “You’re making me do it?”

Claudia shrugs. “Sure. Why not. You’re partners, right? But here’s some advice: wait till you get there to call him. You know, put off the misery, if that’s what it is, as long as possible. Besides—more advice—I really think you should spend your travel time thinking about bonuses. Who gets ’em and why. Because what’s a bonus, really?”

“An economic stimulus whose nametag reads ‘Fred,’ if I’m understanding things correctly.”

“We’ll see what you think about that when you get to Cleveland.”

“On the day before Christmas eve,” Myka grouses. “By the way, that’s a whole lot of ‘advice,’ coming from somebody who’s over a decade younger than I am and not technically my boss.”

“By the way,” Claudia mimics, archly mocking, “we’ll see what you think about that too.”

“When I get to Cleveland?”

“When you get to Cleveland. On the day before Christmas eve.”

“Sounds like the title of a lesser Christmas carol,” Steve says—he’s tuned back in to the conversation. He then says, with his grin that curves so impish, “Think we could get Mariah Carey to sing it? It’s a hit if we get her, right, no matter how lesser?”

“‘When You Get to Cleveland on the Day Before Christmas Eve?’” Claudia skeptics. “Hit-wise, that’s gonna need a lot more power: Mariah dueting with Darlene Love at the very least. Plus we’ll need a Destiny’s Child reunion for at least one chorus.”

“Thanks for reinforcing my sense of how awful this is likely to be,” Myka tells them both, and Steve’s grin turns apologetic.

Claudia, however, shrugs. “Maybe you’ll sing it different.”

Myka is now the one to roll her eyes. “I won’t sing it at all.”

Surprisingly, Claudia doesn’t go with another eyeroll. “We’ll see,” she says, and Myka is struck by the Mrs.-Frederic resonance in her words. Does the homework include practicing the enigmatic tone?

Steve looks up and catches Myka’s eye. He winks. Myka would wink back, but he would probably interpret that as her saying she understands what’s happening. And that would be a lie: serious enough, probably, to make him wince and massage his temples.

So Myka just blinks—not Morse or any other code, just basic eye-moistening blinks. Then she goes upstairs to collect her always-packed travel bag for her trip to Cleveland.

****

Her flight departs late, of course; it’s December in South Dakota. But that’s this-time fine, because it allows Myka a necessary excess of opportunity to prep her Pete-placation. Under her breath, she practices the delivery of such words as “shorthanded” and “necessary,” aiming for maximum sincerity.

When she at last emerges from her Cleveland Hopkins jetway, that extensive prep deserts her entirely, for what awaits her is the manifestation of a Christmas wish she has worked overtime to convince herself would not, could not possibly be granted:

Helena.

Whose arms are crossed, and whose posture betrays that her foot might recently have been tapping out impatience with the plane’s tardy arrival. The attitude is so normal, so entirely of-the-world (rather than of-its-imminent-end), that Myka wants to reverse course, get back on the plane and redisembark, just so she might meet it again, meet it and refeel this wash of absolute relief at seeing Helena impatient in an airport.

Devious, Claudia, Myka thinks. Outstandingly devious. “Hello, Fred,” she murmurs, then tries, in the ten seconds she has before she and Helena are in proximity to speak, to engage in a far more consequential prep.

For Helena has been gone—has been, as Myka put it to Steve not so long ago, “god knows where”—since shortly after the Warehouse did not explode. She was there, in the Warehouse, but then she was gone, and Myka was told only that Helena had “matters to attend to.” God presumably also knew what those matters were, but Myka hadn’t, in the wake of that first moment of absence, and hasn’t since, been able to pry any information about matters or their whereabouts out of anyone, divine or otherwise.

And through the seemingly endless wondering, Myka’s mind and heart have gnawed themselves ragged.

Until this moment, when the wondering and gnawing end: now her blood speeds, coursing with urgency even as everything else seems to slow.... her movements, her reactions, her thinking, all are sluggish, unresponsive; only her blood matters. This blood knowledge. For all her wondering, she’s been avoiding gnawing her way to that answer.

“Claudia said you needed backup” are Helena’s words when they meet.

Myka’s attempt at prep has fallen grievously short—not that she could have risen to such an occasion, not when hearing that voice for the first time in some time, and certainly not when faced with what her blood’s embarrassing insistence has forced her to confront anew. “I... assumed I’d be calling Pete,” she says, to at least go with truth.

“Interesting assumption. Perhaps necessary, if you believe I’ll be insufficient.”

Myka’s impulse is to reassure: “More than sufficient—you’re necessary,” she would shout, or better yet, whisper. Instead, because Helena’s tone is neutral—is she in actuality indifferent?—she falls into a defensive, businesslike crouch, offering only implicit denial of the premise of Helena’s statement. “Let’s head for the accounting firm,” she says, internally cursing herself.

Cursing, but also justifying: Helena is here as backup, thanks to Claudia’s cleverness, and Myka should not assume (speaking of assumptions) that she even wants to be here. All focus should be on retrieving the artifact. Certainly on that and not on Myka’s (honestly) predictably overexcited blood.

She tries to concentrate on Claudia’s advice (while at the same time trying not to resent her success at being cryptic about it): what’s a bonus, really? Helena’s presence, the sight of her, the apprehending of her impatience, the experience of blood: whatever else may happen, these have been—must be—are!—the bonus.

****

The cab ride is quiet. Myka’s resolve to think only of backup and bonus is dissolving by the second, and she lets words reach her tongue that might start a conversation with Helena about things... but those words don’t escape her lips, for a strand of formality seems to be stiffening Helena’s spine. Does she know how Myka cherished her impatience? Is she attempting to discourage such adoration?

Myka, in regret and relief, follows that more-strict lead.

That’s a bonus too, though, for it turns the ride into unpressured, liminal time, perfect for simply basking in presence. It’s best, Myka is now thinking, to treat this reunion as something that was of course going to have happened. For backup or other professional purposes. Despite the fact that it’s the thank-god fulfillment of recurring, desperate dreams.

However: at one point in the traffic-backed silence, Helena, completely unprompted, turns and smiles at Myka.

Myka smiles back.

It’s a previously missing puzzle-piece slotting into place... yet in its aftermath, Myka finds herself having to push with force against a will to worry over other missing pieces; in particular, she must fight the fret-intensive futility of trying to count them.

****

They find the accounting firm’s lobby spacious but quiet—holiday-low staffing, presumably. Myka asks the receptionist, “Is there someone we can talk to about end-of-year bonuses? Also penalties?”

“I’m a temp,” says the young man. His tone suggests it’s his answer to every query... but then he adds, very quietly, “Unofficially, there’s this one guy...”

That has the ring of “artifact,” so Myka nods, encouraging him.

“Super-vocal about his paycheck the other day. How tiny it was. I mean, he’s the kind of guy you might have theories about what else is tiny, but I—”

“Who was that?” Myka interrupts, even as she feels Helena’s readiness to laugh. Mr. Super-vocal is thus probably not a wielder of an artifact; more likely, one of that wielder’s... victims?

“Bob,” the temp says. “I’m sure he’s got a last name, and I’m sure he thinks everybody should call him ‘Mr. Lastname,’ but my care level? Anyway he’s down the hall—one of the only ones in the farm today. Spite-working. Maybe on his anti-everything manifesto.”

“Down the hall” turns out to be a vast expanse of cubicles: definitely a farm.

Myka says to Helena, “Follow my lead?”

“Always,” Helena says.

It’s a tonally sincere utterance—and in that, admirable—but it’s also manifestly untrue; nevertheless, Myka’s blood decides to believe it, to recognize it as another puzzle-piece. I really need to function, Myka tries to explain to her interior. So if we could climb down just a couple rungs. Like to the cab-ride level, maybe?

Her body refuses the agreement.

Of course.

The occupant of the first inhabited cubicle they find is an over-coiffed middle-aged man who clearly spends far too much time in tanning booths. He’s typing aggressively, as if the force of his keystrokes will power his message. His manifesto?

“Are you Bob?” Myka asks him.

“You better be here about my money,” obviously-Bob says, clearly spoiling for a fight.

Myka finds his demand incongruous—his job has to do with other people’s money, and Myka and Helena are manifestly other people. Who could have money. Fred or otherwise.

“In a way,” she says. She follows up with “We’re from the IRS,” and it’s never not funny for that to be useful. Bob winces, as if she's about to strike him. Also never not funny. “We’ve noted some suspicious discrepancies in end-of-year reporting.”

“You have?” Bob asks. Now he’s avid rather than confrontational.

“Looks like some overreporting. Also underreporting. So you see our concern, particularly about effects on withholding.” She is making this up, as she generally does whenever she has to go actual IRS on someone. Read up on tax law, she reminds herself, as she generally does every time. Not that she’ll ever have the leisure to do that... “What we need to find out is whether it was in error, or if it warrants a full investigation.”

“Nancy Sullivan,” he says, with contempt, the name itself a curse. “She’s the one you should investigate, and then send straight to jail. She’s always been a witch about year-end, but now?  On steroids. Talking about making her list, threatening to mark down people she doesn’t like, including yours truly, as naughty... and then we got our paychecks, and somehow she did it! No idea how she managed to push that garbage through, but I swear you better get her up on some kind of charges!”

He rises abruptly, clutching a slip of paper; his chair topples over behind him. He shoves the paper in Myka’s direction, his knuckles nearing her astonished nose—but in the instant before contact, Helena intervenes, her arm blocking his, stopping his forward motion.

Backup.

Helena plucks the paper from his pushy hand. “And what’s this?” she asks.

A pretty minimal manifesto, Myka thinks initially. But then she replays his screed in her head, and his babbling about Nancy Sullivan resolves into meaningful references; struck by the realization, she very nearly misses his next statement: “My pay stub. She can’t just do this.”

Helena says, “Of course not.” She’s soothing him, her voice a faux-caress. It’s enough to tempt Myka to act out, just to hear it directed her way, even as Helena continues, “But we understand some of your colleagues, to the contrary, received large bonuses.”

His “tanned” skin darkens further. “Guess she thought they were nice. To her. Suck-ups.”

Mya looks a Find out anything else that’s relevant at Helena, who nods. Retreating back to the pre-cubicle hallway—relieved that her nose is intact—she Farnsworths Claudia. She skips the pleasantries, starting with, “A very disgruntled employee says the woman who signs off on bonuses was making a list.”

Claudia chortles. “You’re hilarious. Was she checking it twice?”

“This is my point. We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with, not yet, but I bet that’s the crux.”

“I should’ve known you weren’t aiming for hilarity. So you really think this is some Santa thing?”

“No. I’m saying words about lists because I think it’s a grocery thing.” Myka wants to shake her fist at the heavens and every deity who occupies it. Occupies them. All the heavens. “Of course I think it’s a Santa thing! I also think it’s Pete’s fault somehow.”

“Just because it’s Christmas? C’mon.”

“Christmas and Ohio?” Myka snorts. “You c’mon. I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“Maybe you should though. For peace of mind?”

“That’s another thing I don’t believe in. Just see if you can find anything about a Santa’s-list artifact, would you?”

“Roger. By the way, how do you like your backup?” She chortles again and disconnects.

“I like my backup like I like the sunrise,” Myka tells the blank Farnsworth screen.

“What about the sunrise?” Helena asks from directly behind her.

Myka wishes the sound of her voice were either more or less startling. She wishes also that she knew exactly how much overhearing had occurred.

“It’s inevitable,” she sighs.

In response, Helena blinks.

They take the elevator to Nancy Sullivan’s office.

In that elevator, which is aggressively mirrored, Myka can’t help but glance repeatedly at herself. So many reflections. You called this into being, thinking about Alice’s mirror before, she accuses. She tries not to focus on how her hair could really stand to be more controlled... she’d focus on Helena instead, but who knows how that would be received? Instead she allows herself one glance, then looks down.

She likes being on the elevator with Helena, though; it’s a space of relative privacy, like the cab. Have they ever before been on an elevator together? Alone or otherwise? She runs through their interactions, fast-forwarding from the Wells house to D.C., Tamalpais to Moscow, Yellowstone, Colorado Springs, Ohio (here Myka trips over the fact that Helena’ s now been to Ohio twice, if only once in physical form), Pittsburgh, Hong Kong...

The review—the speed with which she can conduct it—reminds her of how limited that time has been, so: an elevator ride. Yet another bonus.

“That fellow,” Helena remarks, and Myka looks up again; their eyes meet in the mirror of the elevator’s doors. It’s uncanny, as if they’re both holograms, so Myka turns her body toward Helena, who meets Myka’s actual eyes and continues, “He attempted to make a lewd joke about his willingness and ability to be naughty when it’s called for. I pretended not to understand.”

Myka can’t help it: she snorts. “I bet he didn’t buy that for a second.”

“I have the ability to perform ‘prim’ when it’s called for,” Helena says, and Myka has to acknowledge that statement as good evidence of itself. Then Helena’s face reshapes into a devilish grin as she says, “In a slightly different vein, his quailing at those three letters with which you assailed him? Hilarious.”

“Letters?” A little perverse-quirk makes Myka want to hear Helena say them, though she’s probably not pulling off “disingenuous” in making the request.

Helena seems fine with the perversity, for she obliges: “I,” she begins, then draws out “Aaaaare.” Then, after a beat: “Esssss.”

Myka now herself feels assailed—by how right Helena’s reading her. She tries to step it down with, “I wasn’t aiming for hilarity. I never do. Claudia can vouch.” But she does spend a little moment thinking about the context of that previous assailing: we’re from the IRS. We are here, together, from an agency. We, together, represent. It isn’t by any means everything Myka would have wanted... but it’s something: part of this bonus. “Fred,” she says, sotto voce.

The office they’re seeking is on the building’s highest floor, suggestive of Nancy Sullivan’s bonus-approving rank; it features several large windows, one of which affords the office a view of the hallway, and vice versa. Through it, Myka and Helena watch a woman, presumably that powerful Nancy Sullivan, writing with a quill-esque pen.

“It’s the pen,” Myka says, because it has to be. “It’s always the stupid pen.”

“Always?” That’s unusually tentative, like Helena’s trying not to step.

“Okay, once,” Myka concedes. “My dad and Poe and a pen, and as a result I’ve developed a severe aversion to those quill things.”

Helena takes a beat. Then: “I never liked feather pens.”

“Are you just saying that,” Myka says, because she might be, and she might admit it, and that might be good or bad or something else Myka has no way of evaluating. Why does Helena say words like this? And for that matter, why does Myka keep spending her limited time on this planet trying to parse them?

“Yes? In that I’ve... said it?”

That really didn’t help with any of the whys. “I mean, just to make me feel better?”

Helena shrugs. “The fact is, today’s ballpoints et cetera are far more reliable. Does that make you feel better?”

She’s playing at being obtuse—surely that’s for a reason? But Myka has no time to wonder further, for Helena is knocking on the office door and opening it without waiting for an invitation, and the real retrieval is underway.

Myka flashes her badge. “I’m Agent Myka Bering, and this is Helena Wells. We’re from the IRS.” She glances at Helena—all these glances!—and gets a small smirk in response.

Rather than introducing herself, the woman says, “Really? I bet that’s not true.”

“Why?” Myka asks. Have she and Helena, over the course of the elevator ride, lost their ability to perform “official” correctly?

“I have a feeling you’re here for this,” Nancy Sullivan says, and she lofts the pen, waving it like a wand. “Mostly because I also have a feeling that I want to close my fist around it, punch my way past both of you, and make my escape.”

Well. “That’s self-aware,” Myka says. “Unusually so.”

“Thank you? Although it’s less self-awareness than kind of a... sixth sense.”

Helena raises an eyebrow at Myka. “Sixth sense aside, we appreciate your good sense to refrain from attempting to punch your way past us. That would have ended poorly.”

“I wish I’d had the good sense not to use this pen,” Nancy Sullivan says.

“Is there a reason for your wish?” Helena asks. She sounds, to Myka’s ears at least, like a recently summoned, slightly flummoxed genie.

“Because of how much I liked using it—particularly when I realized nobody was going to question anything. I signed off on all these orders, and it was like...” she trails off. Then she concludes, “Magic.”

To keep her talking, Myka prompts, “Was it?”

“Having the power to reward good people has been fantastic,” Nancy Sullivan continues, “but penalizing the awful ones? I mean I’ve sort of resented feeling compelled to use the word ‘naughty’ about them, because that’s way out of character for me. But other than that? Utterly spectacular.”

“Bob,” Helena suggests.

“Oh, god, you met him?”

Helena offers a dry “Alas.”

Nancy Sullivan’s smile is as dry as Helena’s tone, astringently vindictive. “I could not have been more thrilled to hit him and everybody like him where it hurt... I admit I’ve always been kind of judgmental, but wielding this pen? Intensified. Like, the hates are more. In particular, the hates are more. I’m not saying the Bobs of this company didn’t deserve what I did, but I feel it more. Punishment. It’s satisfying, but also weirdly costly. Grinch-in-reverse costly.”

That’s a little on the nose. Myka glances at Helena again, because the satisfactions of punishment, of judgment, even of hate, are among the things they will need to talk about. Maybe. Someday. If they are to have a someday that is theirs... if that is even possible after so much time and tribulation... Myka lets the glance grow into a gaze, a resting regard, and it stays that way until Helena, too, glances, with the result then that their eyes meet and lock... such a clasp, Myka feels, could ground that potential, and potentially necessary, talk of things, if only they were not in the middle of a retrieval...

...which makes Myka think. Why are they in the middle of a retrieval?

“I wish I didn’t feel like I need to articulate this, but where did you get the pen?” she asks. Because she has a niggling sense of something larger happening, something beyond her grasp. Nevertheless, it is not—repeat, not—a vibe.

Fine. It might be a vibe.

“My cousin gave it to me,” says Nancy Sullivan.

“Your cousin,” Myka says. “Whose name is?” Now she’s knows what’s coming, and that has nothing to do with a vibe: no, it is entirely deduction based on experience.

“Pete Lattimer.”

TBC