#the bad news is i am not a toy poodle person

[sidetongue]

Barbara is still here, unfortunately

[mimikittysblog]

Get to know me game!

Wasn't tagged by anyone but saw @end-hyphen do it sooo here I am doing it :3

Tagging: @hello-stranger24 @tfwheeseung @heeverseblog @dearsugarrush @hee-pster @jaysbiceps @seohotonin and anyone else who wants to doooo thisss!

Birthday: April 5th

favourite colour: Purple! But pink is slowly becoming my favorite. Or I could just say both lol

do you have pets?: YES! Have a toy poodle! His name is bubble :3

how tall are you?: Genuinely not sure- I guess I'm 155cm according to my friend? but I think I'm a bit taller than that so lets say 157cm

how many pairs of shoes do you own?: Oh.. a lot some are still in my old house- But I have well over 10.

favourite song: LITERALLY TXT JUST CAME OUT WITH THEIR NEW ALBUM AND DEVIL BY THE WINDOW HAS ME IN A FUCKING CHOKEHOLD- So yes. that. But Same Scent by Oneus is also one of my all time favorite along with A Song Written Easily!

favourite movie: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets hehe or Dead Poets Society

who would be your ideal partner?: Anyone who can love my dumbass and be patient with me 🥹 But making me laugh is the way to my heart so- someone who has a similar humor to me is almost an immediate 10.

do you want children?: Yes yes I doooo! Hopefully one day :3

have you gotten in trouble with the law?: Nope-

what colour socks are you wearing?: currently not wearing any

favourite type of music: Any really- if I like it, I like it. I say I typically like any conventional song if that makes sense- but if its catchy and I like it.. then I like it. Obviously rn I'm very into kpop but my music taste is all over the place. Like I still listen to some My Little Pony songs- CAUSE SOME OF THEM HAVE NO RIGHT BEING THAT GOOD.

how many pillows do you sleep with?: 5 and one long bolster. I actually just use one but I have 5 on my bed lol.

what position do you sleep in?: I sleep on my back, I used to sleep on my stomach but now I sleep on my back lol.

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping: Uhm.. bright light I guess?

what do you have for breakfast: I don't typically eat breakfast but whatever is available and I'm craving it lol, sometimes rice, sometimes a sandwich, sometimes its soup, sometimes its noodles.

have you ever tried archery?: Noooo I have not! But I've ALWAYS wanted to try! Looks so cool and fun! Wanna live out my Narnia dream :3

favourite fruit: Strawberries :3 but I also like grapes a lot! and pineapples!

are you a good liar?: I would have to say yes- or at least I'm decent at it

what’s your personality type?: INTP but it might've changed

innie or outie?: I think overall I'm more of an innie, I like just relaxing but recently I've been going out with friends more and that's been fun :) (but if this question is actually referring to my belly button then it's an innie)

left handed or right handed?: Leftieeee

favourite food: I would have to say Mac n Cheese overall lol- love cheesy things but an Indonesian dish called Rendang is so so good and also one of my faves.

favourite foreign food: Hmmm Teokpokki is really good :3

am i clean or messy?: Somewhat messy yes, I'm not like super messy, if it gets too much I'll clean up but I get lazy to clean up and put things away too often

most used phrase: Usually curse words (in english and Indonesian) but other than that its Nauurr, omg, woi, bener (correct in indonesian), gak gitu konsepnya (thats not the concept), beb, I wanna die and love

how long does it take for you to get ready: Depends, but roughly an hour for normal days. sometimes it can just be 30 mins.

do you talk to yourself?: Oh yes all the time. Bad habit really.

do you sing to yourself?: Of course I do, randomly burst into song like I'm in a musical too often.

are you a good singer?: Not even in the slightest. It's why I would rather swallow and shit out razor blades than sing for my idols at concerts. Yknow how idols sometimes gives the mic to a fan and ask them to sing? yeah no. pls don't let that ever happen to me.

biggest fear?: What happens after death- idk its scary to think that it just ends like that. I mean I do actually believe in an afterlife but.. still scary to think about.

are you a gossip?: I just sit and listen- I love gossip but I'm not the one to spread it lol. Mainly cause truthfully if no one tells me directly- I would literally never know. Like my campus- it's known as the gay campus 😭 I literally didn't know that until last semester cause my friend finally told me.

do you like long or short hair?: I prefer short cause it's easier to manage, however I like both. Cause you can have more hairstyles with long hair.

favourite school subject: English and PE

extrovert or introvert: Introvert

what makes you nervous: People. My mother and family. Idk a lot honestly 😭

who was your first real crush?: A guy from my middle school lol was my first love too

how many piercings?: Twooooo Want more thoughhh

how many tattoos?: Don't have any but I'd really like to have a few one day.

how fast can you run?: No clue but not that fast- thats for sure

what colour is your hair?: Ok- this is hard to explain- but I had my hair in a split dye, but for my aunts wedding I dyed it back to black. I dyed it twice cause after the first time I missed a few spots. So the first time I dyed it I actually mixed it with my purple conditioner, second time I did not. After my aunts wedding I washed my hair thoroughly because for the wedding I had to have my hair in a specific traditional hair style that requires a lot of teasing and hairspray. So most of the black hair dye got rinsed off and somehow- it left the top half of my hair green and the bottom part purple. But thats only for half of my hair so- my hair is black purple and green rn-

what makes you angry: Slow walkers and people who don't wait for people on the bus/in elevator to get off first before getting in.

do you like your name?: Yes very much so :3

do you want a boy or a girl as a child?: Any is fine :)

what are your strengths?: I'm pretty smart and understanding. But I'm brutally honest. and I'm very loyal.

what are your weaknesses?: Too loud

what is the colour of your bedspread?: White with like- a london pattern 😭 like it has the england flag and big ben and stuff on it.

colour of your room: Bluuuuueee! light blue!

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

3.3.23 Friday

8:18 am

This Uncle Jun is fake, not standing up to feed the dogs but angels he did this to John and Neko... But he can't actually manage....Coz all of the dogs were given to him by Uncle DD and Aunt Karen were all dead... He is fake...

It is not easy to have a pregnant dog... Expenses and everything...

I feel bitter... I can't be successful....I feel hurt. Something is always wrong with him or them... I wanna have yaya again....There are fake observer's on me...

They can't go up, I was the real one who got yaya's...

But this 2am until 3am Uncle Jun fixed in a way the cage coz puppies are able to go out on their own and crying...

If I'm not here probably all dogs died with Uncle Jun and he will never move at all...I knew him... Motivated only by me,angels...4 or 5 small dogs given by Uncle DD and Aunt Karen , 3 shitsu white, black and dark brown, 1 toy poodle and coton de tulear... On different time, all were dead by the hands of Uncle Jun... Time that Uncle DD thrown me at the side of my biological father... I wasn't here, so many plans from the past 16 years to damage me...

I hate cheap/chipay2x, I asked uncle DD for a puppies cage an after birth whelping box,Uncle DD told me that they don't have enough budget and we will sell it soon... Fine! They don't have budget....What can I do? I'm bum, their holding onto me for 16 years... Nobody can be on a good platform but me.... Love me or hate me, I know things that I deserve!

Coz I told Uncle DD,that I'm gonna put the puppies inside their new house for awhile every night coz they are started to cry and able to climb up the cage door that Uncle Jun made... Uncle DD told me that some of puppies will cut their tails coz they look so much alike of their mother Neko the rottweiler. I think there are 2 puppies who looks like mother Neko... So,it needs space coz it will be hellish bloody according to them... My ideal thingy is to actually have a whelping box and even the after birth whelping box... But there is no budget for it? Hope God and Angels can help me to pass this obstacle made by Uncle Jun...

Love me or hate me this is me...My memory went back and I'm not a bad person...I have other plans supposed to be.....There are group who are trapping me for 16 years,they always made me a child and they had fun and I have no happy moments since 2007...

10:31 am

Uncle Jun is still sleeping, I remember he said last night that "I feel cold"....Probably he is sick or something....

My personal case:

I need a career angels and to earn money seriously....I have plans for my baby John and we need money here and me as an individual I have the right to be successful coz I'm a college graduate angels...

10:54 am

I wanna wolf as new sister or brother of John if God will allow me to be wealthy and a raccoon.

So,pretty...

11:18 am

Uncle Jun is awaken already and said to me "I'm not eating pork liver".... I said that is our food meal for lunch... Now,he is cooking tonkatsu for our dinner...

11:58 am

Done,eating with my baby John... Uncle Jun cooked his beef steak for tomorrow not the tonkatsu later... I told him, the beef steak that he cooked this lunch that will be his food meal tomorrow lunch... Yeah! Everything here is budgeted now....

12:04 noon

Why is it always the reason of someone's death in the house was in the bathroom slip and fall just like the husband of Mommy Linda Arnan, that was my elderly patient.... Not good...

4:29 pm

I still have the windblow trap... It is weird day....I still wanna buy starbucks everyday...

I feel frustrated....Thinking of money and job... Wanna leave the hometown...

8:58 pm

I feel bitter,I still have the windblow trap....I wanna do a lot of things such as foot spa, collagen shots on my feet and butt... I feel irritated... I'm thinking of money!

Wanna see donkey and camel....I feel fat and ugly... I wanna dress-up and buy starbucks everyday!!! Our dog show,me and my baby John...

I want my own kingdom... I wanna crown...

[rueluxprince]

How Much Shit Could’ve Been Avoided Had Jin Zixuan Been Even A Little Bit Politically Aware. As He Should. Part 1

Jin Guangyao gets recognized back into the family. Now there’s a second son that’s maybe perhaps coming for your inheritance. You can:

a) pretend he doesn’t exist

b) bring him into your fold and ensure his loyalty to you only

c) conduct a conspiracy to have him disposed of as soon as possible

......

Because you are still the one person with some decent fucking morals in your house, you choose B. So:

Jin Zixuan: “BROTHER! I AM SO GLAD TO MEET YOU! I’VE HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT THE YOUNGEST HERO IN THE SUNSHOT CAMPAIGN! NO WONDER YOU’RE FROM THE JIN SECT! OH LITTLE BROTHER TO THINK YOU’VE RECEIVED SO MUCH SUFFERING AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE!”

Jin Guangyao: “... thank you for your kind words brother, please don’t be sad on my behalf.”

Jin Zixuan: “A-YAO DON’T RESTRAIN YOURSELF! KOI TOWER IS YOUR HOME NOW! ANYTHING I HAVE YOU SHOULD HAVE TOO! IF THE SERVANTS DARE TO BULLY YOU JUST TELL ME AND I’LL SETTLE THEM! I’LL GIVE YOU A TOUR!AND YOU CAN CALL ME GEGE!l

Jin Guangyao, seventeen and now visibly moved: “Gege!”

Which turns into:

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE! FATHER IS DOING SOMETHING TERRIBLE IN THE DUNGEONS!”

J Zixuan: “I’ll keep an eye on it. Hey have you picked out a spiritual sword yet?”

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE! FATHER IS DOING SHADY EXPERIMENTS WITH DEMONIC CULTIVATION IN THE DUNGEONS!”

Jin Zixuan: “You friendly with Xue Yang? Yeah alright just tell him to keep as many pieces of evidence as he can. A year worth of Lanling sweets in return? He knows they go bad really quickly right? Wait you’ve never had them before?”

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE! FATHER WANTS ME TO HELP HIM WITH TORTURING PEOPLE!”

Jin Zixuan: “hey you never went to the Lan Sect’s boring ass boarding school right? Guess what here’s your chance! It’s a proper rite of passage for all proper young masters of cultivation! They’re restarting in a month pack your bags!”

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE! MY FIANCÉE TURNED OUT TO BE MY SISTER BECAUSE FATHER RAPED HER MOTHER DURING A PARTY YEARS AGO!”

Jin Zixuan: “help me write a script I’ll go talk to Qin Cangye. Hey you think my mother is willing to scheme a bit and break it up for us? And we should probably go apologize to Madam Qin shouldn’t we? Oh and add this to the Terrible Thing Father Did drawer, we might need to use it later. What do you mean the drawer is full?”

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE! FATHER IS TRYING TO SPREAD RUMORS ABOUT WEI WUXIAN BEING A TERRIBLE PERSON TO GET EVERYONE TO SUPPORT HIS TAKING OF THE STYGIAN TIGER SEAL!”

Jin Zixuan: *kicking down the doors of Lotus Pier* “JIANG WANYIN URGENT BUSINESS LISTEN UP STOP SHOUTING I CAN VISIT WHENEVER I LIKE I’M YOUR BROTHER IN LAW!”

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE!”

Jin Zixuan: “Father again?”

Jin Guangyao: “no it’s Zixun. He’s torturing pows and building concentration camps.”

Jin Zixuan: “...”

Jin Zixuan: *kicking down the doors of Lotus Pier* WEI WUXIAN COME GET YOUR PEOPLE STOP SCREAMING THIS IS A TOY POODLE NOT A MONSTER SPIRIT!”

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE! FATHER IS PLANNING AN AMBUSH AT QIONQI PATH! WITH ZIXUN! TO KILL YOUNG MASTER WEI!”

Jin Zixuan: “you know what fuck this shit”

The next day, Jin Guangshan accidentally fell down Koi Tower’s thousand steps after drinking too heavily and hit his head really hard. Mr Jin lost all his memories, and is thus unable to continue as leader of Lanling Jin sect. The position passes onto his eldest son, Jin Zixuan.

(Zixuan recieved about three letters expressing condolences. Sudden parties and celebrations erupted everywhere outside the Lanling area immediately after the news broke. They continued on for about a week.)

Epilogue:

Jin Guangyao: “GEGE!”

Jin Zixuan: “oh my gods what now?!”

Jin Guangyao: “.....I might have... gotten engaged? ...slightly married. With Er-ge. While I was in Cloud Recess... studying. So ah... I wanted to have your blessing...”

Jin Zixuan: “............”

Jin Zixuan: “FUCK PEACE AND HARMONY AND RIGHTEOUSNESS WHERE’S MY SWORD I’M GONNA CHOP THAT BRILLIANT OVERGROWTH’S DICK OFF!”

- more MDZS headcanons under the “my thing” tag

[kathyprior4200]

Haven Hotel characters

 Heaven’s Princess Coercia Egnam glanced down at her long list of meeting attendants and characters that she was about to address: (her handwritten notes included)

 Princess Coerciona (2P Charlie) *Most important*

Phalla (2P Vaggie) *Hopeless romantic butterfly*

Devil Grit (2P Angel Dust) *Serious stiff spider*

Stalaro the Techno Angel (2P Alastor the Radio Demon) *Sob story sissy*

Klutzy (2P Niffty) *Lazy maid*

Core (2P Husk) *Hyper fool*

Cherubs Pub and Chub (2P Razzle and Dazzle) *My loyal guards*

Lucius (2P Lucifer) *Dad*

Lilian (2P Lilith) *Mom*

Sivart (2P Travis) *Some guy*

Sir Anguis (2P Sir Pentious) *Stuttering scaredy-snake toy maker*

Berri Blossom (2P Cherri Bomb) *Modest mundane dame*

Catie Carejoy (2P Katie Killjoy) *Soft bitch*

Ron Wrench (2P Tom Trench) *WW1 news guy*

Baker the puffer fish (2P Baxter the anglerfish) *Mad scientist fishy fish*

Jazzy (2P Mimzy) *Chubby singer lady*

Joygrand the Heaven-cat (2P Crymini the deviant hellhound) *Who the fuck are you?*

Raa the Koala angel (2P Roo the kangaroo trash Aussie demon) *Who the fuck are you?*

Iris (2P Rosie) *Day of the Dead Barbie*

Valentine (2P Valentino) *Blueberry pimp wimp*

Nil (2P Vox) *TV guy*

Ashen (2P Velvet) *Harley Doll angel*

Nestlings (2P Egg Bois) *Meh*

Nathan (2P Seviathan) *Old friend*

Elsa (2P Helsa) *Meh*

Beth (2P Bethasa) *Meh*

Fred (2P Fredrick) *Meh*

Holly (2p Molly) *Devil Grit’s spider sister*

Ragno (2P Arackniss) *Devil Grit’s spider brother*

Henry (2P Henroin) *Devil Grit’s father*

Alliv the blue tough tabby cat (2P Villa pink girly poodle) *Don’t even fucking know*

Thin Tenders (2P Fat Nuggets) *Potential snack*

Archangels (2P Archdemons)

Anti-Exorcists: White demon beings who convert angels into demons each year. Great source of entertainment.

 E.L.F. (2P I.M.P.) not to be confused with C.H.E.R.U.B. the sheep love spreaders and revivers

D.E.V.I.L. (2P C.H.E.R.U.B.) murderers, hate-spreading black rams

Docile (2P Blitzo) *Some childish leader*

Tirred (2P Moxxie) *Serious one*

Timmid (2P Millie) *Wallflower*

Sunna (2P Loona) *High pussy*

Mia and Tia (2P Tilla and Barbie Wire) *Circus twins?*

Samael *Punishing BDSM angel*

Menadel (2P Stolas) *Swan prince, Quartet’s father*

Flora (2P Stella) *Quartet’s mother*

Quartet (2P Octavia) * Swan princess, bubbly teen*

Mayberry/Juneberry (2P Mrs. Mayberry) (Former Human)

Mary (2P Martha) (Former Human)

Ralph (2P Ralphie) (Former Human)

Ollie (2P Eddie) *Brat kid*

Bio Wizz (2P Robo Fizz) *Circus conspiracy?*

Kiva (2P Verosika Mayday) *Zealot*

Woo-Hoo Land Mascot (2P Loo-Loo Land Mascot) *What a creep*

 (More to be added)

(2P Zoophobia characters)

More characters to be added

 “Alright my subjects, tell me something,” Coceria began as she filed her sharp claws with a knife in a tall leather chair framed by black wrought iron. Her black spiky crown was on her head as usual. An angelic spear rested by the throne. Below her was a large crowd seated in comfortable chairs, many of them in shades of blue and green. “How the flying fuck am I supposed to remember all your names?! I bet half of you guys are insignificant background characters. And the majority of you haven’t even been featured in the show yet!”

 “You mean the Hazbin Hotel show? About our counterparts?” asked Stalaro, holding up a white rose for Coercia. Soft classical music played from his blue microphone staff. The pansexual blue man was occasionally stealing glances at Devil Grit’s fluff.

 “That’s irrelevant right now, you sad sack of stag shit!” Coercia yelled. Stalaro’s rose wilted in his hands and the music scratched to a stop. Tears were forming in his large blue eyes and his fluffy ear tuffs were drooping. “B-but I’m talking about my show: The Hazbin Ho…”

 “Haven Hotel,” Phalla corrected.

 “Right, Haven Hotel! And there’s also that spinoff show Helluva Boss.”

 “Heavenly Boss,” Docile corrected her. The elf sat with his colleagues next to a flyer which read, “Efficient Lifesaving Fellows: We revive and keep mortals alive! Sign up today, 33% off.”

 “Whatever,”Coercia brushed them aside. “Anyway, normally I wouldn’t care much about you guys, but now that I have formed the Haven Hotel, Phalla figured it should be a good time for us to introduce ourselves. Or more precisely, me to talk to you all.”

 “A practical first start,” Devil Grit mentioned with a nod. He was a dark gray faced spider with small green dots below his eyes. His suit was black with green stripes, along with a green bow tie. “Just make sure that everyone stays at least six feet away from me. Social distancing is a safe standard, and necessary precaution.”  

 “I do love making new friends!” Phalla smiled, fluffing her long black hair with teal ends. A glowing green X was over her right eye and a teal bow was perched don her head. “Don’t you, Klutzy?”

 The small blue cyclops angel narrowed her large eye. “Friends. Oh joy.”

 “I must say, Coerce dear,” said Lucius. “I don’t really approve of your hotel and your idea. If the council finds out about your attempt to promote rule-breaking activities…”

 “Banishment to Hell? Or to my room?” Coercia asked, hands on her hips. “Not the end of the world. And my name is Princess Coerciona. I prefer my full title.”

 Core, the friendly white cat, rolled his eyes. He shuffled a few cards in his furry paws. “She’s no fun.”

 “I heard that, cat!” she called, making him flinch back a bit.

 “We raised you better than this,” Lilian added.

 “Oh really?” The black haired princess stood up and turned toward her mother. “You’d rather I be some bubbly musical loving princess who wants to spread “joy and redemption” far across the land? Ha! No. A true ruler commands fear and respect in their subjects. I’m sure Hell’s king Lucifer would agree.”

 Pub and Chub, the naked flying babies grinned in agreement while fine tuning black electric guitars in the background.

 “We do not mention that name,” Lucius began but Coercia was ignoring them again.

 “Lucifer may be a traitor to Him but at least he had guts. If His teachings weren’t so flawed, I’d still be promoting them wholeheartedly. As for my position…maybe another princess may someday take my place, but that’s not gonna happen if I manage to be princess of both realms. But now I’m here, in this lovely, shiny…fake excuse of a paradise with wackos like you. Still, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

 Phalla giggled while Core pat a sobbing Stalaro on his blue back. He wiped his face as his monocle glinted in the sunlight under his left eye.

 “Your uncle Metatron wouldn’t approve of your attitude,” Lucius added.

 “He wouldn’t even notice, considering he’s too engrossed in his record-keeping,” countered Coercia.

 Nearby on another part of the stage, the ocean-like angels Elsa and Nathan whispered to each other.

 “I don’t understand it,” Nathan said. “Here I was, promoting goodness for everyone, but Coercia laughed at my ideas and pushed me around. And we even went to Heaven High school prom together.”

 “Lucius wanted our two families united, so we could have a higher standing,” Elsa added. “You dating the princess would’ve helped. But sadly she broke up with you and now here we are, envious.”

 “Don’t remind me,” Nathan sighed. “It’s not like I was the one abusing her and mocking her ideas. At least she didn’t run off with a sinner girlfriend to further tarnish her family reputation. Ugh…restraining societal standards affect us even here.”

 “Or maybe…she’s not much of a romantic person to begin with,” Elsa suggested.

 “Not all aromantic and asexual people are cold-hearted,” Nathan said. “She’s just one bad apple.”

 Coercia seethed at them, briefly letting out her black feathery wings and white spiked halo over her head. She spoke in a high-pitched angelic language before retreating back to her regular form.

     “I hate it when she swears,” Elsa muttered.

  Coercia turned to the crowd. “Alright, let’s begin.”

[shoelace-and-friends]

Fifth week of dog grooming school

I should’ve made this post a LONG time ago because I’m starting week seven tomorrow and week five was last year lol. I sort of...forgot to make this post. 

But I’m going to try to keep this one shorter. I will say this though: Week five was with no question, the hardest week of grooming school I had so far. I don’t know what it was about week five, but pretty much every dog I groomed had behavioral issues and tried to bite me, and I ended up having to put a muzzle on most of them. 

Day 21: Molly the cavalier king Charles spaniel

So Molly let me start off the week at least a little bit easy. She was one of the only dogs who I didn’t have to muzzle that week and I remember her for the most part being pretty cooperative. This groom wasn’t particularly interesting though. You can probably tell it was mostly just a shave all over. She had that typical laid-back cavalier personality. Cavaliers are actually one of the breeds I’m thinking about getting for myself. I’ve contacted a couple breeders so we’ll see how that goes. 

Snookie the shih-tzu 

So....Snookie was just a tad bit of a turd. In the five weeks that I had groomed, she was the very first dog I had to muzzle. The good thing about Snookie though was that I guess I did a good job on her? At the time, my instructor said she was one of my best grooms. If I remember correctly, I think she got what we call a bladed body with stylized legs. I shaved the body but kept the legs a bit longer so I could scissor them. 

Day 22: Cy the shih tzu 

If you can’t tell by now from all my other grooming posts, shih tzus are by far the breed that we get the most of in the salon. Cy also got the muzzle because he was a bit snippier than what I felt comfortable with. I should’ve gotten a better photo of him, but he wouldn’t really stay still and I couldn’t manage to get a side photo. I also had my first shot at scissoring some of the face with him (it was tricky, but I at least was sort of able to do some of it when I took his muzzle off). 

Emily the rough collie 

I understand why this breed is called a rough collie. It’s because they are rough on a groomer’s back, neck, and shoulders lol. But really though, grooming a collie like this one takes some muscle work. Most of the groom was actually done in the tub room. The dog is kept natural for the most part and there really isn’t much of a haircut, but you do have to rake out a lot of unneeded fur and try to get out any mats it has, and it is actually a pretty decent arm work out that takes a lot of time. I luckily didn’t have to muzzle her, but her and her brother Russel (not pictured) both seemed like they didn’t come to the groomers as often and weren’t used to this, so we had to be a bit careful not to freak them out, especially with the high velocity dryer.  

Day 23: Boots the yorkshire terrier (photo N/A) 

So...I sort of messed up and forgot to take a picture of Boots before he left. Oops. But to be honest, I don’t really remember much about his groom anyway? Just that he pretty much just got a yellow clipper comb all over and that I had to muzzle him because he kept trying to bite me. 

I uhhh....feel bad for not getting to show you Boots though so to make up for it, here is a toy poodle that my instructor groomed to give us a demonstration on hand-scissoring a whole dog. LOOK AT HOW SMALL SHE IS COMPARED TO HER HAND. So tiny... 

Bear the chihuahua

So....Bear is a little bit hard to talk about. He is a rescue dog, and his owner told us that the people that he was rescued from used to abuse and mistreat him. This was his first time coming into our salon, so we did not know how he would end up acting. The very moment his owner left, I realized that bear seemed really afraid of me and afraid of the new environment. He tried to hide from me  and growled at me.  His groom was supposed to be easy. A bath, nails trimmed, ears cleaned out, glands expressed, that’s it. It was not easy. I normally would’ve been able to do everything by myself on a breed this simple, but I needed help every step of the way because this dog’s anxiety is just so severe. I didn’t get to express his glands. He got so freaked out when we picked him up to put him in the tub, that he expressed his own glands out of fear all over the floor and on my instructor. I was able to give him his bathe at least, but he was pretty resistant the whole time and nearly bit my hand at one point. Dogs normally dislike their feet touched so my instructor for safety reasons and concern that he may bite me if I did it, would not let me trim his nails and she did that instead. I didn’t even want to begin to consider continuing without muzzling him. He kept trying to jump off the table and wrestle out of everything. Blow drying him even with the muzzle and while holding him was not possible. Not even ten seconds after I turned it on my instructor told me we can’t safely do it on him and he needed to be cage dried. I want to point out that this isn’t an issue of bad behavior. This was a traumatized dog who was afraid that we were trying to cause him harm. Anyway...please treat your dogs well. 

Day 24: Murray the poodle mix 

Murray is not necessarily a bad dog, but he was a little bit naughty and did behave in a way that made the groom a bit harder to do. He’s a regular so all I really needed to do was scissor anything from his last haircut that seemed out of place. you know, touching it up. He’s a squirmy boy though and moved around a lot. This picture looks sort of goofy because this was the best one that he allowed me to take of him. Also...he HATES having anything done to his feet! He got muzzled because he tries to bite whenever you get anywhere near them. I needed help trimming his nails and everything because he’s just a big foot baby. 

Buster the poodle mix 

Yep. another poodle mix. And honestly, Buster was a little mean. Buster got cranky with me when I tried doing stuff to him like the whole groom. He is the first dog to successfully bite me (He didn’t break skin though, I am fine), and got the muzzle for most of the groom. The muzzle did not stop him from lunging at me the whole time and trying to bite even though he couldn’t. He and Murray basically acted the same. Buster was a touch-up dog too. Day 24 was a little stressful ngl. However, Buster was a little sweet towards the end after the groom was over. He let me carry him around for a bit and eventually fell asleep in my arms while we waited for his owner. That was sweet at least. Especially since I was told that he’s kind of asshole even when he’s not being groomed and that grumpy is his normal personality. 

Day 25: Bear the shih tzu 

A different Bear, and my very last groom of 2020. He was pretty squirmy as well, but I did not have to muzzle him! After the week I had that was a victory. His groom was all about doing poodle feet, or in other words shaving his feet basically naked. His owners didn’t really want his hair changed so the feet were really all I did. I think they came out pretty good! 

Stay tuned for week six, since I’m...literally going to make the week six post right after I post this one. 

[curious-minx]

Left Behind In The Halloween Parade: Late Review of Bob’s Burgers And The Simpsons.

The First Sunday of November, and the Last Sunday of the Trump and Biden election, found Hulu finally uploading the Bob’s Burgers and Simpsons Halloween episodes. So in the spirit of taking your sweet ass time that is exactly what I did with this review. The Bob’s Burgers Halloween episode is probably the weakest of the series, a series that is practically a Hallmark card company in terms of the amount of holiday-inspired content they have churned out. Episode “Heartbreak Hotel-oween” isn’t a particularly offensive in any way it just fails to live up to Halloween episodes such as my personal favorites Season 8 “The Wolf of Wharf Street,” which remains one of the most visually stunning episodes of the series,  and  Season 4, the series’ second Halloween episode,“Fort Night,” which has incredibly gruesome stakes and the most satisfying entry in the Louise versus Millie feud. 

“Heartbreak Hotel-oween” is still ultimately pretty good and though it took a second viewing to fully appreciate it I do like watching the Belcher children deftly sail through the world of adults. The tantalizing plot thread of a Bob’s Burgers Delivery service is dangled and I would like to see more Delivery based plots. Getting these characters into different areas and expanding upon the ambitious Jersey shore town. Having the kids deliver a burger to an older woman using the burger as a lure for her seance is flattened against a brown and forgettable after thought of a hotel. Everything with the Belcher kids is good and interesting and with the help of Andy Daly voicing the Hotel Manager; Lindsey Stoddart doing Quarantine duty and voicing multiple characters including the old woman Dolores conducting the seance, and Loren Bouchard Home Movies collaborator Melissa Robbins stops by as a bystander character as well. 

The episode starts getting in its own way with the adults blood bank centric B-plot. The entire plot is given in a single exchange with Teddie being excited about donating blood and everyman Bob with his everyman  O-negative blood finds giving blood nauseating and gross. That’s it. That’s the whole plot and besides the blood banker workers being dressed up as vampires there are no other comedic games being played and it is total unmemorable fluff, which has been a common issue for the ongoing series. One thing this episode does right is at least get Bob, Linda and Teddie out of the restaurant and into a new environment. A lot of the verbal exchanges between Bob, Linda and Teddie feel a lot more stilted due to Covid recordings and the lack of non-scripted banter is sorely missed. I have noticed this season having more John H. Benjamin monologue Bob by himself moments, which only work when Bob’s imagination is in full flight. Where was the talking bag of Bob’s blood? Hell I wouldn’t even had objected to hearing a dang song sung by the vampires to help soothe Bob into giving blood or something beyond: Bob doesn’t like giving blood because it makes him woozy, he gives blood and get’s woozy. 

Overall this is a perfectly serviceable episode: three Ghost-baiting cheeseburgers out of five. 

////

Intermission. 

Fox is certainly using the Loren Bouchard & Molyneux sisters brand like a blood bag with the recent announcement of the new series The Great North. Wendy Molyneux is a frequent writer, (executive) story editor since Bob’s Burgers inception. She is the writer of  “The Wolf of Wharf Street” and the episode of Bob’s Burgers I have watched the most - “There's No Business Like Mr. Business Business,” because I am a cat fanatic, John Oliver fan, and have been the pet companion of a standard poodle exactly like Snoodle named Faust that I love dearly. Basically, I am excited for this show. Molyneux is also a deeply connected collaborator with Megan Mullally writing on all 74 episodes of Mullally’s forgotten by the ages The Megan Mullally Show. A show according to Wikipedia’s citation of Fox News, “viewers were disappointed to find out that Megan is not anything like Karen in real life,” and if there is any white woman out there that is an anti-Karen it is Mullally. Mullally is not the focus of the show but her more visible and commercially accessible husband Nick Offerman is finally being anointed into the annals of TV Dads. With his three sons voiced by Paul Rust, Will Forte and National Treasure Aparna Nancherla and sole daughter voiced by Bob’s Burgers alum Jenny Slate, who recently honorably stepped down from a lucrative tv series Big Mouth deal like the real champ that she is.  Mullally will show up as Jenny Slate’s character’s boss andThe cast is undeniable the backdrop of Alaska has a lot of promise for elaborate or interesting set pieces. I am ready for this show! Will this be Bob’s Burgers Futurama? That’s probably a vicious hex based on how Futurama was infamously jerked around by Fox. FOX has already given the show a promising two-season deal, which is already a lot better than what Netflix did for Tuca and Bertie. Faint nowhere discussions of the Bob’s Burgers movie were also mentioned in an interview with Bouchard who has a cantankerous “theater release only” policy, which bums out a little, but I would much prefer they take as long as possible. The Bob’s Burgers movie cannot end up carrying out the Simpson movie curse.

/////

I am no Simsons scholar. I could not give you an active ranking of favorite Tree House of Horror episodes. I could tell you that I really like Bart as an Edgar Allen Poe’s Raven. You don’t need to be Simpsons scholar to safely state that “Treehouse of Horror XXXI” should be ashamed to show its “funny face.” For starters the entire appeal of the anthology style of storytelling has been completely deflated by having two of the previous episodes in this season being gimmicky non-standard episodes. The only positive thing I can say about this episode is that it is an important teaching tool for what the most broken and shittiest, laziest satire imaginable would look like and the 2020 Election cold opening is actually pretty solid. All of the good will earned by the strong opening is completely squandered starting with an inexplicably CGI Toys Story sketch. I am assuming the animation department went with CGI because the source material is CGI. The CGI is really bad and makes me really miss the 3D models of Simpsons Hit And Run and perfectly charming The Simpsons Game. Instead this sketch’s particular animation looks like the animators were most inspired not by Pixar’s clean and craftsmen like CGI models but were going for more of a Fanboy & Chum Chum look. A Toy’s Story parody in this day and age is asinine in its laziness, but it’s still an evergreen territory. A good Toy’s Story parody is possible, but simply having Bart play out the role of Toy Story’s Sid except he gets lobotomized by his own toys. I did appreciate the writer’s making the explicit moral of the story to not buy toys, which for a Disney product like the Simpsons is pretty rich. 

Behold! The last recorded instance of a quality Toys Story satire from China, IL

The next two parodies go down slightly better simply because they aren’t sporting that eye bleeding animation but paying homage to Enter The Spider-verse and Russian Doll/Happy Death Day 2U in 2020 feels just as dated as Toy Story. What kind of fool is still writing about Russian Doll in 2020? The Enter the Homer-verse sketch is at least ambitious and showcases how masturbatory  the show has come whenever it is showcasing Dan Castellaneta’s various vocal talents. I get it dude, you like having dump trucks of money given to you for barely making an effort and doing Hannah Barbara impersonations that sound more like a bad Woody Allen. Regardless, this is still the one sketch that makes the most attempt to have comedic games with its multiple iterations of Homer and even throwing out some alternative universe Burns and Smithers for good measure. The final third Russian Doll sketch that let’s you know that this sketch is more Russian Doll than Happy Death Day by using the same exact Harry Nilsson “Gotta Get Up”  piano riff. This sketch had potential but once again the show writers and creatives seem to only indulge the worst possible instincts and cast Lisa as the lead of the sketch. So that means we get to watch this 8 soon-to-be 9 year old girl and fellow child Nelson get murdered in a variety of banal and brutal ways, and it’s just not fun or pleasant to watch. The obvious choice is an unexpected Springfield resident and if it has to be a Simpson having Marge or one of her sisters be the Nadia surrogate makes far more logical sense and Marge’s birthday would carry more emotional weight. 

Reminder to myself to check out this lost late series entry where Natasha Lyonne is the voice of Krusty’s daughter. 

I completely understand why The AV Club canceled their coverage of The Simpsons. The whole series has a very masochistic and sadistic pull and tug between creatives and fans. The sweet and simple souls of Den of Geek are still reviewing the Simpsons and offer a far more favorable review: https://www.denofgeek.com/tv/the-simpsons-season-32-episode-4-review-treehouse-of-horror-xxxi/.  Google results also yield one another publication reviewing this current season published on medium that has been taken by for violating medium rules. Will the Simpsons be coming for me next? 

Skip this episode! Judging by the synopsis of the season’s next ep finding the Simpsons, once again, finding themselves somewhere other than Springfield is looking to be another skippable entry. I want to be proven wrong! The latter day Simpsons seasons usually have a memorable or decent episode here or there. So far the only thing remarkable about this season is how much it wants to try to be different and think outside of the Springfield box but in the process give the season an overwhelming sense of hollowness. I shall forge ahead with my coverage, because I am either a masochist or a sadist depending on the weather. 

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Rocking the Boat 9

Supernatural 

Link to Chapter 8

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader/Dean x Cas

Words: 1,894

_______

The whole ride back to the bunker, you sat snuggled against Gabriel. 

“So what did you all do while I was away?”

Gabriel’s golden eyes fluttered up to the rearview mirror. Dean was staring back at him with a frown. Neither of the two had really rehearsed a grand story to tell you. They both had a feeling that you wouldn’t like the truth too well. It was time to face reality. You were going to find out everything very soon! 

Walking into the bunker, you were still eagerly telling Gabriel about your trip to New York. You couldn’t help but notice how strangely quiet that your lover had been from the time that he picked you up. He was all over you, that was normal but it was his silence that was worrying you. 

“I lost Cas at Time Square. Next time we go anywhere I am making a shirt for him that says if lost please return to Y/n. I, of course, will be wearing a shirt with my name on it. Thank god, he answered his cell phone.” 

“Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

Gabriel said softly. Having enough, you turned to face him. Gabriel was looking at you with guilty eyes. 

“Gabe, what is going on? You're acting weird. Oh shit! Is Sam okay?”

Gabriel held his hands up. 

“Sam is just fine. Y/n, I need to talk to you about something..eh...someone who is here. I don’t want you to think that there is anything weird going on between…”

Before Gabriel could finish his sentence, none other than Kali stepped into the room. Every red flag in your brain started going off. Here stood Gabriel’s ex-girlfriend and Gabriel was acting like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

You muttered as Dean came skidding into the room. Your father gave you his best “everything is okay and it is not what it seems” expressions. 

“Y/n, Kali is staying with us while we work on a case for her. She is in danger and we are helping her out. That is  what we do.” Everything is cool.”

Dean felt like he needed to remind you of the fact that you were a hunter and sometimes you had to help people that you didn’t like. You looked between your father and Gabriel suspiciously. Since when did your dad work for a demigod (especially one that wanted to use him as a bargaining chip)? A better question was why did Gabriel act so calm and collected? What the fuck was that about? 

“Is this why I went to New York? So I wouldn’t know about her?”

Kali meanwhile, had eagerly walked over to you. 

“Y/n Winchester! Look how grown-up you are!”

Before you could get something snarky out, Kali had a hold of your face. She tiled your face up so you could look into her eyes. 

“You have grown up so much since our last meeting! You are so pretty!” 

You wanted to reach out and pop the bitch for everything! She was the reason that you watched Lucifer stabbed Gabriel (even if it was a big Gabriel joke) and the reason that you had one of the weirdest evenings of your life. If those damn demigods weren’t having a pow-wow, Mercury would have never called Lucifer. 

“There was also the fact that you watched her rub all over Gabriel.”

Your mind supplied. So what you were a teenager that Gabriel was not looking in any romantic way? You had feelings for Gabriel then. That was what mattered!

Kali was busy squeezing your chin and apparently prowling through your mind like a vicious lioness.  

“Excuse me but you are kind of hurting my face.”

Kali quickly let go. She gazed at you with a warm smile. She ignored Gabriel who was looking beyond uncomfortable with all of the physical attention that she was lavishing on you.

“I can’t believe how grown-up you are! You really have turned out well. You have a lot of talent and a strong mind. You look so much like your father! You have those same lovely green eyes.” 

You looked over your shoulder at Dean with a “help me” look. Dean meanwhile, smiled. 

“I guess my genes are strong.” 

“Thank Chuck for that.” 

You muttered before turning your attention back to Kali. 

“Yeah, it's been years since you saw me last. Not long enough if you ask me.”

“Y/n.”

Gabriel hissed. Kali gave the archangel a sneer. 

“Leave her alone! She can say what she wants to. She's a big girl and doesn’t need approval from you. Y/n, I would love to go get coffee and catch up. I have wondered how you had been doing over these past many years.”

You tried to stop yourself from wincing. Why on earth did she want to be your friend? 

“You poor dear, you have grown up without a mother…”

Ah, there it was! It all made sense now. You remembered doing some research about Kali being a strong mother figure. 

“No offense but I didn’t really go without.”

The next thing that you knew Kali was standing behind you awkwardly patting your hair. Yep, this was weird! 

Gabriel, meanwhile, had enough of this bunch of shit! 

“She isn’t a poodle!” 

He reached out, grabbed your arm, and pulled you to him. Kali did the same thing and pulled you back to her. 

“She doesn’t need you tugging her around like a child, archangel! She isn’t your toy!” 

Gabriel’s eyes were livid! You were honestly surprised that they weren’t glowing.

“If one of you breaks one of my arms off...I swear to god….”

You said coldly. Dean quickly walked over and pulled you back with him. He kept his arms around you in case one of the primordial beings in front of him decided to get in a tug of war game over you again.

“Kali, Y/n is just fine. We take care of her, Gabriel takes care of her…”

Kali smirked. Her eyes hadn’t left Gabriel’s furious face. Kali was partially surprised by Gabriel’s reactions when it came to you. The whole time that she had been with the trickster (archangel) he never once seemed to care about her the way that he did you. Kali had seen Gabriel flirt with other women right in front of her! He never had any regard for her feelings. 

Now here Gabriel stood and was ready to turn Kali into a pile of ashes. Kali had noticed how Gabriel’s eyes never left you. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t pretending to be someone else now and this is who Gabriel was supposed to be. He was supposed to be the protective lover to the “right” girl. Maybe you were the “right” girl.

“Gabriel takes care of her? I would compare that to a pack of wolves.” 

Your attention went back to Kali. You were beginning to look annoyed as well. 

“Gabriel is a wonderful boyfriend. Too bad that you didn’t get to see that side of him.”

You patted gently patted your father on the shoulder. Dean let you go reluctantly. 

Gabriel smiled when you came to his side. 

“What can I say? She’s crazy about me,”

Gabriel replied smugly. Kali rolled her eyes. 

“So, Y/n, about that coffee?”

You smiled, wanting to be polite in case Kali decided to take all of this personally.  

“Maybe tomorrow? I promised my evening for something else.” 

Dean and Cas both made the same matching frowns. Cas turned and walked from the room with Dean behind him muttering about needing a good stiff drink. 

Kali nodded. 

“That sounds wonderful. I would assume that you want some privacy since the two of you haven’t seen each other in a few weeks. Come find me in the morning, dear.” 

You nodded as Gabriel wrapped his arm around your waist. He shot Kali a look before guiding you toward the bedroom. 

Once the door was closed, you turned to face your lover. 

“What in the name of fuck was that?” 

Gabriel walked to the bed and sat down. He put his hands over his face before looking up at you with pleading eyes. 

“First off, I had nothing to do with this. You dads assumed that you wouldn’t be able to handle being around one of my ex-girlfriends.”

Ah, it all made sense now. This had Dean Winchester all over it! 

“Jeeze, I can handle being around Rowena. I think I can handle Kali. I may dream of punching Kali in the face but I’m not going to.” 

Gabriel sat up straight. He immediately looked annoyed. 

“You know about Rowena?”

You shrugged. 

“Gabriel, you have been with more women than I care to think about.” 

Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I don't want to talk about my ex-lovers. I wanted this to be about us.” 

You held a hand up.

“Why are you getting so huffy over me knowing about Rowena? Are there still feelings there?”

Gabriel jumped up. 

“Of course not! Why would you ask something like that?”

“Maybe because you are acting strange. Rowena is beautiful.” 

Gabriel shook his head. 

“You never told me that you knew about Rowena.” 

What did Gabriel expect? Sure, you didn’t know about every one of his lovers and you didn’t really want to. 

“Rowena, I can live with. The porn stars are the one that bothers me.” 

“Just stop!” 

Gabriel snapped. 

“You know we have never talked about this.”

You stated calmly. How you were being so clam was a miracle in itself. You didn’t like thinking about Gabriel's past. Maybe it was because you never really had one. You never went out with other guys to compare Gabriel to. 

“Why would you want to?”

Gabriel growled. 

“Well, it's kind of an important subject. I know you are not a man whore now. I know about your past okay? I about the porn stars and Monte Carlo. Dad told me about all of that. It doesn’t matter but I would rather hear about it from you then someone else...you know just in case another one of your exes shows up needing help.”

“Isn’t he a damn prince?”

Gabriel said standing up. He reached out and pulled his leather jacket back on. 

“Where are you going?”

You asked calmly. Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“I need some time alone. I have been sitting here for two weeks trapped my ex-girlfriend waiting for you to come home.  The last thing that I ever planned was to be discussing my love life with other people. I need to get some air.” 

Gabriel disappeared before you were able to make any kind of protest. Shrugging, you went and laid down on your bed. What did Gabriel expect? You would find out about his love life with other people at some point. Was your potentially becoming friends with Kali causing this sudden surge of anger? Time would only tell on that one.

____________ @brokencasbutt67-writer

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[keepeacer]

Let me collect dust.

more gyjo! a chaptered slow burn this time :)

Chapter 1 - Lady Grinning soul

Words: ~5673

Rating: M (for future chapters)

Content Warnings: drinking, getting hit in the head with shoes

Summary: It’s the summer of 1977, and Gyro Zeppeli is the bassist in a band. He does the singing, too. After getting a late start to a show day, he meets someone in a bar that he has the feeling he’ll be seeing a lot of in the future.

Ao3 Link

Full chapter under the cut

The Sunset Strip has been, historically, a breeding ground for talent. Some artists rose through the ranks of the clubs like Aphrodite from the froth of the Mediterranean, and others suffered a fate akin to Icarus— melting and collapsing under the weight of their own excess. It was, and still is, a veritable neon mausoleum.

Legions of would-be rock stars and pin-ups flocked to these musical establishments like flies to rotting meat, drowning themselves nightly in swathes of glitter and narcotic cocktails made up of ingredients they couldn’t begin to pronounce. It was a fairly common occurrence to see people dragged out on stretchers from a bad high, or simply knocked out cold on various surfaces and left there until some good Samaritan hauled them over their shoulder and took them home... wherever that was.

The overarching theme was that most of these lost souls didn’t exactly have a home to return to.

Diego Brando was not one of these lost souls.

No, Diego Brando had himself a stuffy little apartment in the Hollywood Hills, with a balcony on one side facing that horrid white lettered sign, to boot. In this apartment he had installed a rather large conversation pit with red upholstery, upon which was perched a grey miniature poodle with the name tag “Silver”. Silver was currently chewing happily on a pair of cherry red Doc Martens.

The owner of these boots lay splayed across one section of the couch with one arm covering his face and the other dangling towards the floor, a pea green sheet haphazardly thrown onto his otherwise nude form. His snores were thunderous and his sleep was deep, deep enough that he didn’t register the indignant shout from across the room, or the half-eaten boot that was flung at his head until it had been picked up and he had been slapped with it again, a bit more insistently this time.

He twitched as he stirred from his sleep, a long yawn escaping his lips, which he smacked after the fact. A wince; his breath tasted absolutely rancid.

It suddenly registered in his mind that he had been attacked in his sleep. He hoisted himself up on his elbows and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. His assailant had gathered Silver into robed arms, a violent expression raging in pointed turquoise eyes.

Despite his diminutive form, Diego Brando managed to be the exact kind of disheveled morning-after-terrifying that caused Gyro Zeppeli to physically recoil, pulling his sheet over more of his person as if it would serve as some sort of protection.

Gyro did not know what he did to warrant such venom, but it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d been woken up in such a way. He smiled sheepishly, hoping that he’d calm the other man down with his trademark disarming grin. “Good mornin’, sunshine.”

It did not work. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Uh… sleeping?”

Diego all but growled as he stomped into the pit, leaning over slightly and picking up the victimized boot with the hand that wasn’t cradling Silver. He advanced toward Gyro, waving the boot in the air. “Do you know what this is?”

“Yeah, that’s a bo— Huh?! ” Gyro spluttered, eyes widening at the realization that those were, in fact, his prized cherry Docs . His gaze shot from the boots to the poodle in Diego’s arms, a poodle that looked almost smug . It knew what it had done. “The fuck happened to my boots?!”

Diego threw Silver’s newest chew toy at Gyro, connecting with his chest with a dull thud and an “Ow!”. He ran his hand over the tuft of hair on Silver’s head, cooing down at his pet.

“I’m sorry this oaf tried to poison you, darling,” Diego purred, scratching under Silver’s chin.

Gyro looked at him incredulously. “How? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your boots.”

“And?”

“You left them where my sweet angel could have choked on them.”

Gyro scoffed in utter disbelief. He had half a mind to jump up and start yelling, but he remembered his physical state and decided that, what with the wide-open windows, Diego’s neighbors didn’t deserve that kind of performance this early in the morning. He instead contented himself with sitting upright completely and angrily gripping his boot. His poor, poor boot.

“Your angel?!” Gyro scoffed, pointing an accusatory finger at the doe-eyed Silver. “That little rat that chewed the absolute fuck out of my fucking boots? That’s real goddamn leather!”

This was met with an eye-roll. “Oh, please. They cost you what, 20 dollars at most?”

“20 dollars at most,” he mocked, putting on the most obnoxiously fake English accent he could muster. Gyro gestured around angrily to the opulent apartment he’d regrettably become a guest in for the night. “ Just 20 dollars . You know, you were so much nicer last night. Weren’t beating me with my own damn things, for one.”

“You endangered the life of my pet, you brute!”

“You owe me new boots.”

“I don’t owe you a bloody thing!”

Gyro threw his hands up into the air and dragged them down over his face in exasperation. He’d made several unwise decisions in his life and going home with a psychotic Englishman was proving to have been one of the worst. He drummed his fingers on his cheeks, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

The previous night had been spent on the Strip, because where else would it have been?

Club Asphodel was much like its namesake, in that its patrons tended to wander aimlessly around the venue indefinitely on any given night; at least, until something interesting pushed its way through the peeling velvet-lined doors. That night’s attraction had been a locally established outfit by the name of The Clergy; its members donned themselves in dark, cult-like attire and played gloomy tunes that dealt with occultism and blasphemy. As for what the actual genre was, it was up in the air, but the members described it as “an unholy cross between blues and plainchants”.

Gyro had taken his usual spot by the bar, leaning against the counter and tucking into a bottle of Hamm’s. The standard procedure for a night out.

Gyro was a very big fan of people-watching. Not for any sort of creepy purposes, but moreso because he simply got a kick out of observing people as they went about their lives. He liked seeing the desperate teenagers plead with the bouncer for passage into the club; he was intrigued by sudden breakups on the dancefloor when one lover noticed the other’s gaze lingering too long on someone else. Got a good laugh out of overzealous drunkards that had their beers slapped into their faces by the unlucky recipient of their harassment. If someone he saw interested him, he’d go over and talk to them. It was a simple enough game that had made him plenty of friends in the clubbing scene, as well as the inevitable enemy or two. Or three. He’d long lost count.

The Clergy had begun playing, and they were stellar, as usual. It was a wonder that they hadn’t been signed yet, though there were whispers in the crowd that night that scouts from Elektra were prowling the Strip, and that a couple could very well be in Asphodel.

Gyro loved The Clergy— he really did. It’s just that he found it incredibly hard to focus on their music while sticking his tongue down a pretty blond’s throat. All it had taken was a hand down his pants and the feeling of hot breath against his neck and he’d made his plans for the night. One speedy trip in a yellow Volkswagen Beetle and he’d found himself pushed into a conversation pit, only to awaken with that same pretty blond from the night before beating him over the head with the docs he’d slaved away an entire summer over a deep fryer for. Only now, they’d been chewed up by his shitheaded dog.

His boots. His fucking boots. Why did it have to be his boots?!

Diego had set down Silver and was now ambling around the pit and picking up Gyro’s clothing, throwing them at him as he went. Gyro held up his hands to shield himself, but to no avail; he was hit square in the face with his own underwear, as God would have it.

“Hey, c’mon, I can pick up my own clothes,” Gyro whined, grabbing his underwear off of his face and setting it down next to him. “You don’t h—”

“I want you out.” Diego was fuming, eyes alight with a fury that Gyro considered wholly unsuited for the situation. And especially in his eyes. If anything, he should be the angry one; that’s not to say that he wasn’t angry, but it was more of a ‘now I have to buy new fucking boots’ than an ‘I will unleash the gates of hell upon thee’ type of rage.

“I still want new—”

“Get dressed and piss off before I call building security on you.”

And that was how Gyro found himself wearing his shirt on backwards and missing his socks on the corner of Hollywood and Highland, waving down a cab. Diego had hardly given him enough time to dress himself before practically shoving him down the staircase, throwing a bag of coins after him (which he’d caught, thanks.)

He had intended on walking the entire way home before he’d noticed the time on a clock attached to a lamppost. It then dawned on him that it was in fact, Saturday, and he’d spent the better part of his morning ambling around the Hollywood Hills in an attempt to make his way out of the labyrinth of ostentatious housing and unnaturally green lawns.

Upon seeing the time he’d gone into panic mode—he had to get back to his apartment and he’d have to do it in record time. It was currently 11 AM, and he had to be somewhere by 11:30 AM.

But he’d have to get his bass first.

It wouldn’t have been so awful to miss practice for a day, if it weren’t for the fact that him and his motley crew of idiots had somehow managed to book themselves a gig. And of course, it was slated for that very night.

A two-toned green and cream Checker Taxicab pulled up next to him and unlocked the doors, Gyro smiling gratefully as he slid into the back seat. “Corner of Vine and Romaine, please.”

The driver grunted in acknowledgement, reaching into his glove compartment and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Newports. Fun guy. He held it towards Gyro, who muttered a small thanks and took a couple into his hands. Can save these for later , he thought as he deposited them into the pocket of his jacket. The driver then held out a lighter, shrugging when Gyro declined. He smacked the button on top of the taxi meter and shifted the gears out of park, the axles of the vehicle squeaking dangerously as it sped off down the street.

Anxiety and hunger bubbled in his stomach as he sunk into the leather seat, lazily observing the morning bustle of the Hollywood streets through the dusty window. His mouth watered at the sight of the first Burger King they drove past; it registered in Gyro’s mind that the last thing he’d ingested since the previous afternoon was alcohol. Copious amounts of alcohol. Alcohol that could do to be sponged up with a nice, gooey Yumbo.

He felt surprisingly put together for how much beer he’d consumed. It was possible that he’d simply developed an iron stomach and was thus immune to the adverse effects of intoxication. Maybe getting smacked with a saliva-covered boot was the ultimate hangover cure.

Gyro glanced at the clock installed in the car; 11:08 AM. He then looked to the street signs they were passing up; they were on Sunset, just about to pass Highland. Almost. He chewed on his lip anxiously; his bandmates wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he ended up being late on such a big day. Any other day, they wouldn’t have cared, but gig days were of the utmost importance.

The next few minutes stuck in morning traffic were absolutely agonizing, but ultimately they prevailed, with the driver depositing Gyro on Romaine at approximately 11:13 AM. Gyro gave a hurried thank you and tossed the man a couple dollars before hoofing it in the direction of his apartment.

He ignored the greetings of his neighbors as he ascended the stairs, fishing out his spare key from under the doormat. Gyro practically slammed the door open after rapidly turning the key in the lock, making a beeline towards the stand where he kept his bass. He stopped in front of it, smiling fondly as he knelt before the case.

The case itself was a simple, faux-leather thing, beaten and worn around the edges. A few stickers had been slapped onto the surface; some of bands that he hadn’t even heard of and others of silly teddy bear drawings. Just for peace of mind, he unhitched the clasps holding it closed and slowly opened the case, smile widening to a grin as he took in its contents.

His baby was a monochrome Gibson EB-3 that he’d affectionately dubbed Valkyrie. The neck was a sweet-smelling black mahogany that contrasted with the white walnut body. The pickups and pickguard were black as well, though in another life they’d  been a deep, wine-red color. While he’d slaved away over a grill for his Docs—as well as much of the rest of his clothing—Gyro actually won Valkyrie through a fistfight with the bassist of another local band, Wekapipo from Ataxia. Bastard got what he deserved.

Satisfied, Gyro closed the case and secured the latches, picking it up as he stood. He gave his apartment a quick once-over before shrugging and heading out the door, grabbing his keys before locking the door.

He gave an apologetic wave to his previously rebuffed neighbor as he headed down the stairs again, half-jogging on his way to his car. That was nothing special; it was simply a ’65 Mustang with chipped baby blue paint and fucked suspension that he couldn’t afford to fix yet. Sometimes the starter relay would straight up fail, and he’d have to play mechanic on the side of the road until he fixed it himself by some stroke of dumb luck. Either that, or until another driver took pity on him and gave him a hand.

Today was one of the Mustang’s good days, and so it started without a hitch. Didn’t even make a loud churning noise when he sped up on the 101 in an effort to make it to his bandmate’s place in time. In fact, it was so well-behaved that it didn’t start sputtering and dying until it pulled in front of the building, whining obnoxiously before Gyro shut the engine off.

Exhaling, he exited the car and grabbed his bass, nervously stepping through the gate to the house. He was definitely late, and he was definitely going to hear about it. Gyro was two seconds from knocking on the door before it swung open, a silently seething Sandman on the other side of the screen door.

“You’re late,” Sandman said simply, opening the screen and allowing Gyro to waddle in. Predictable .

Gyro smiled sheepishly, setting his case down next to the rest of the band’s equipment. He held his hands up innocently, trying not to falter under the intense gaze of the man before him. “I’m sorry! I got, uh, caught up…”

“Heads up!”

There was barely any time to react as a small styrofoam clamshell went flying at Gyro’s head. He managed to catch it between open palms, the container squeaking slightly as it bent inwards. Poco grinned from the doorway, a half-eaten cheeseburger in hand. “Glad you finally made it.”

He stuck his tongue out, opening the clamshell to reveal a slightly jostled Big Mac. His stomach gurgled in anticipation, though it proved to be in vain. Gyro had only taken a single bite before recoiling, making a face. “It’s cold.”

“Get here on time, then,” Sandman deadpanned, taking a long, obnoxiously loud slurp out of his cup of soda. Gyro scowled and took a seat on the couch.

“Not my fault you two live all the way in goddamn Echo Park.”

“It isn’t our fault you live in Hollywood.”

“Fuck you. Rent’s cheap on my street.”

“Sure. You owe me 65 cents for that, by the way.” Sandman pointed at his burger.

Poco held up a hand to silence the two, chewing thoughtfully on his cheeseburger before swallowing. “Who was it this time, Gyro?”

“Huh?” Gyro was mid-chew himself, trying his best to stomach this achingly cold pile of mushy bread and meat that they dared call a Big Mac.

Poco walked over and poked Gyro on the neck. His hands went up to cover his exposed skin, flushing in embarrassment at the knowledge of what decorated that particular stretch. He shot Poco a look, which dealt absolutely zero damage to the knowing grin plastered on his bandmate’s face.

“What was her name?”

“ His ,” Gyro grumbled, “name was Diego. Prissy rich ‘Hills type. Bottle blond. Nice ass.”

Gyro listed all of the above information willingly because Poco (and more subtly, Sandman) would hound him for it endlessly if he didn’t. The two were very preoccupied with who he slept with; they claimed it was because they were looking out for him, but he personally thought it was because they were both perverts.

It was Sandman who spoke first.

“…Diego? Diego who?”

“Uh… Brando. Why?”

Poco spluttered. “Did you just say Diego Brando?”

“…Yeah? What, you know ‘im?”

Poco and Sandman both stared at him like he was stupid. He even felt offended for a split second. Did he do something wrong? Was Diego Brando Poco’s long lost brother, or even Sandman’s? He spoke up again when neither of them answered his question. “Guys?”

Poco shook his head and walked away from Gyro, exiting the room. Gyro turned to face Sandman, who rolled his eyes and stood up. He, too, walked away and exited the room, but returned shortly after with a stack of what appeared to be tens of Star magazines. These were dropped unceremoniously at his feet, with Sandman sitting next to Gyro and scooping up the one at the top of the pile.

“Do you see this?” Sandman pointed to the cover of the magazine, which featured none other than… Diego. He was sitting on the floor against a rocking horse in classical jockey apparel, tongue sticking out of plump lips between two fingers. A bit risqué. The issue was relatively recent, too; April 1977.

Gyro blinked. He didn’t know Diego was famous. “Um, yeah. ‘BRITISH ROCK SENSATION TELLS ALL’…? He a singer?”

The corner of Sandman’s mouth twitched. “Do all Italian expats live under a rock?”

“What? I just know the metal and punk shit from there. Not any of that obscure crap.”

“It’s not obscure. Or ‘crap’. Be respectful.”

“Whatever…,” Gyro muttered, scanning over the other captions on the cover. “’What really happened to Joe Kid?’ Who? What?”

“Oh, that is unforgivable !” Poco yelled from the other room. Sandman shot Gyro a disapproving look, grabbing the magazine out of his hands and setting it back on the pile.

“You’re really so ignorant.”

“What the fuck? Why am I supposed to know all these people?! They’re obviously only big in uh... not-Italy.”

“Whatever. Get your stuff set up so we can practice. Hopefully you won’t be late to your own show, too.”

Sandman didn’t seem to notice Gyro flipping him off as he moved himself over to his drumkit. He twirled a stick around and tapped a cymbal, the crash echoing throughout the house. “Poco!”

There was a shuffling noise from the other room before Poco’s head emerged in the doorway. “On it!”

Gyro set down his burger, still muttering under his breath as he set up his bass and cab. He didn’t know why his bandmates expected him to know about everything that crawled out of the British Isles. Sure, Diego was very clearly loaded, but he figured that big time rockstars had better things to do than peruse seedy dive bars in the dark corners of Sunset. Like, go to stuffy wine tastings, or whatever.

It wasn’t like Gyro was totally ignorant of popular culture as a whole. It was just that growing up, his parents didn’t allow him to do anything fun. If it didn’t relate to preparing for medical school, he wasn’t permitted to participate. That included listening to fun music, watching television, hell, even playing outside with the local kids. As a result, Gyro didn’t get a taste of any type of music aside from jazz until he was late in his teens, and that was only for what was prevalent in Italy. He knew big names like AC/DC, The Beatles, Beach Boys, Aretha Franklin, sure; but anything that hadn’t made a considerable dent in the Italian musical market, he was unfamiliar with prior to arriving in Los Angeles.

It was a sensitive spot for him, but he knew enough local bands to earn him at least a little bit of respect in the LA scene. At least, as much respect as could possibly be afforded to a newcomer, and a foreigner, at that. People early on hadn’t really taken him very seriously, so it was by chance that Gyro bumped into Poco and Sandman, who’d been looking for a bass player to jam with. They’d all hit it off, and Vertigo had been formed practically overnight.

Their band was one of misfits, as was typical of any other non-glam band that popped up in the vicinity of the strip. They shared more traits with the burgeoning punk scene than anything else, yet they were finding that the sound shared by their peers just wasn’t… enough. Didn’t have the right crunch, wasn’t as intense, as demanding. Their music ached for something more.

He thumbed at the strings of his bass in thought. They needed more… gravel.

“Alright,” Poco chirped, plugging the amp chord into his guitar. “I think we oughtta, uh… practice the shit on the setlist.”

“What setlist? We agreed on a setlist ?”

“Christ,” Sandman sighed.

Poco pointed at a piece of paper taped to the floor before Gyro. He squinted below him. Sure enough, 8 of their songs were scribbled onto it in black marker. He winced at a few of the choices; Poco seemed to have gone out of his way to pick what’d make their fingers bleed the most. Which was pretty hardcore, so he couldn’t complain… much. Still, he’d have liked to have had some sort of say, since he’d be the one singing them. Or shouting, more like. More heavy that way.

Practice went as it normally did, which was to say that it was incredibly flawed, but charmingly so. Sandman’s snare only fell off of its stand twice, and the amp managed to not cut out at all. Hopefully, it’d be about the same for their set later that night. Gyro had mastered the technique of yelling without fucking his throat up too bad, so sucking on a lozenge would be more than enough in the hours between practice and the actual show.

It was funny, the anxiousness that festered within him. It wasn’t as if he’d never played at Señor Rosado’s. He’d had a slew of awful shows there, actually, but the audience (and the band) was often too drunk to really care; fast and loud music didn’t need to be good when combined with alcohol. The chaos of the pit was fun to watch from the stage, and it was even more fun when he got to set his bass down and dive into it at the conclusion of the show.

After lingering at Poco and Sandman’s house for a while longer after practice, he packed his stuff together and headed home for a quick shower. He still smelled like sweat and Hamm’s. And Diego, he thought with a wrinkle of his nose.

He didn’t spend too long in the shower and spent even less time on his outfit, throwing on a raggedy pair of jeans and an equally ratty old Stones shirt. He frowned at his chewed-up boots but decided to put them on in favor of his Chucks, deciding they added character. Saliva coated character.

The car ride to Señor Rosado’s wasn’t anything of note, and neither was the club itself from the outside. The inside? Also unremarkable.

The real appealing part of Rosado’s was not the interior decorations, nor was it the obnoxiously large neon sign with a racially insensitive vaquero displayed above the front entrance. It most definitely was not the restrooms, which, even when ‘clean’, had an odor akin to rotting pig shit on a sweltering July afternoon.

No, the thing that drew the local miscreants and rock n’ roll weirdoes to Rosado’s was something known as ‘The Carnage’. The Carnage was the utter chaos that drove the underground scene in Los Angeles. It was the way of being, the ideology, the look. It was a lot of things, and one way it could visualized was by a chick in a mullet snuffing out her cigarette on a bloodied bonehead’s chrome dome amidst a particularly disastrous barfight. The Carnage manifested only in certain spaces, and Señor Rosado’s was one of them… much to the chagrin of its owners.

One of whom was approaching Gyro as he lugged his bass cab towards the stage to set up.

The incredibly skeevy co-owner, Devo, sneered as he took in Gyro’s appearance, lighting a cigarette. “Peavey? Really, Zeppeli?”

“Good enough for Van Halen then it’s good enough for me.”

“Who?”

Now it was Gyro’s turn to scoff. He ignored Devo as he set down the cab, fumbling with the wires behind the rig. It was in that moment that he was endlessly grateful for gaff tape.

He waved in greeting to his bandmates, smirking when they realized that he’d actually arrived before they did. For once. Gyro looked to Sandman for any sort of emotion on his face and, of course, was given nothing but a resentful glare. But what was Sandman if not a little venomous?

It didn’t take too long for them to get completely set up. Their opener hadn’t even arrived yet; why would they? The bar wouldn’t permit its patrons to enter for another couple of hours.

Poco and Gyro took to entertaining themselves by playing darts in the green room, with Sandman acting as a half-hearted referee as he buried his nose in a thick textbook. Gyro understood partially; though he himself was a med-school dropout, he was no stranger to taking any possible moment to cram knowledge into his noggin in preparation for tests. He’d understand completely if it weren’t for the fact that Sandman didn’t go to college.

Eventually Gyro had grown bored of absolutely demolishing Poco in every aspect of the game, so he took to laying down on the hole-infested couch that Devo had deigned to plant in the room. He closed his eyes for what he thought was a little bit before peeking one open, trying to read out what the dusty clock on the opposite wall read. If it was right, it meant that the bar had already opened its doors for the evening.

He figured it was as good a time as any to get a good soundcheck in. For the sake of the openers; testing acoustics and all that jazz. Gyro honestly had no clue who the people playing before them even were. Not that he hadn’t heard of them... it was just that Devo literally didn’t tell them. Likely to be some other local shitshow that was even more obscure than Vertigo. He supposed it didn’t matter, so long as they were loud.

Gyro pushed a dozing Poco off of his legs and stood up, grabbing his bass and mumbling to Sandman that he’d be back. He received a disinterested hum in response.

A few patrons milled about the club already, some sitting on the chairs provided closer to the bar. Gyro couldn’t say that he recognized many, if any of them, but they were all probably locals. He sincerely doubted anyone from like, Montana had flown in just to see his little band of talking mice.

He found that the openers had already set up their own equipment, but were currently absent from the stage. There’d probably be time to actually meet them sometime between sets. He picked up a stray cord from the floor and plugged it into Valkyrie, giving a test strum before going back to fiddle with the cab knobs.

Once he was satisfied he took his place by the front mic, adjusting it for his height. The current setting was a bit short, and it wasn’t really going to cut it for a lanky guy like him.

“Blegh!” he gurgled into the microphone, pleased to hear his voice echo through the room. A few giggles came from customers in the non-visible vicinity. With the way the lights glared in the direction of the stage, and the general dimness of Rosado’s itself, it was hard to really see anyone.

He experimentally strummed on his bass, a few isolated chords before they melded together in his standard soundcheck song. Gyro was aware that he was likely totally butchering the genius of Geezer Butler, but he bassically had it down.

Gyro leaned into the mic, laughing softly as a random man in the back of the bar whooped loudly.

“Some people say, that my love can’t be true…”

He grinned at the girl that sat on the stage near him a few more lines in, adding a wheezy rasp to his voice as he progressed. It had devolved into a straight shriek as he got to the “My name is Lucifer” line, cackling maniacally as he suddenly ended off the song there. The girl stayed even after he went back into the green room to drop off his bass and reemerged; perhaps she was expecting something out of him. She wouldn’t be getting it.

Gyro decided that he was absolutely parched, and that the swill Devo left a cooler of in the room wouldn’t cut it. He hopped off of the stage and into the pit, swaggering over to the bar.

And that was when he saw him.

Peeking out from under a red fiddler cap were a pair of azure eyes, eyes that stared him down as their owner took a sip from some syrupy green cocktail. They were the type that demanded the completely undivided attention of those around him. His face, framed by feathers of blond, was set in a pout, though it didn’t seem like a particularly affected one. It was the kind that rested.

He was dressed a bit stuffily for the location, though his outfit seemed worn around the edges. A white cotton button-up shirt was accented by a soft yellow tie that had seen better days, his crimson high-waisted pants hugging his hips a bit more snugly than was probably standard.

The barstool next to him was invitingly open. Gyro took it.

“You the one that was singing just now?”

His voice was quiet, tinged with a subtle splash of sadness and what sounded like those ‘Southern country’ accents Gyro heard on TV now and then.

Gyro nodded, a slight grimace on his features. “Yup. How bad is it, doc?”

The young man gave a huff through his nose that Gyro thought was supposed to be laughter, though his lips did not show any sign of curling upwards. In the dim bar light, he idly registered a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

“Not bad’t all. Pretty damn good, actually.”

“Hey, thanks. Means a lot.”

“No problem. You the one from uh...Vertigo, right?”

Gyro’s eyes lit up. Being recognized was a relatively new thing, and it somehow felt even better coming from this person. “Yeah! Yeah, I am. Bassist and lead shrieker.”

There was a hum from his conversation partner, who took another sip of his cocktail. Gyro didn’t know what exactly was in it, but judging from the smell it was some pretty strong stuff. He flagged down the bartender and ordered a whiskey on the rocks, catching it as it slid across the table towards him.

“We’ve been trying to sound heavier lately,” Gyro found himself blurting out, earning a cocked eyebrow from the fellow across from him. “I dunno if I gotta start yelling about blood and guts, or play faster, or what, but—ah, fuck. Sorry, didn’t mean to start rambling at you.”

“You try downtuning? Pedals?” The young man didn’t seem bothered by Gyro’s verbal diarrhea at all, swirling around the cherry in his cocktail.

“Hm? No, I—”

“Try out E. No drop tuning. As for pedals, Boss’s Overdrive crap might work for what you’re talkin’ about.”

The way he delivered this information, he’d seemed almost bored, but there was a notable glint in his eye that wasn’t there before.

“I dunno why I didn’t think of that,” Gyro mused, taking a swig of his whiskey. He looked behind himself to the stage, where he noticed Poco trying to wave him over.

Gyro frowned. Figures, when he finally finds someone that was actually interesting to talk to he’d be summoned by his bandmates. They’d barely gotten any real words in; Gyro didn’t even get the chance to ask him his name yet. He groaned and finished off his whiskey, slamming it down onto the counter and earning a glare from the bartender.

Gyro swiveled around to face him again. “Hey, I got— oh?”

The boy in the red hat was gone.

[lorewytch]

A 80′s Gushing Rant

Sorry I just spammed everyone with 80s cartoons XD (Well.. sorry, not sorry?) As a child born in the 80s, I have a special attachment to these cartoons. I mean doesn’t everyone? Nostalgia sells for a reason after all. We all at least have one fond memory of one cartoon or TV show or book that touched us. I was born a only child so often I only could play with myself. I was shy and much different than my other classmates. I was awkward a lot and often did my own thing. But one thing I loved was my parents giving me VHS’ to play which I would watch over and over until the tapes warped. I had many favorites over the years. And the 80s and early 90s were a peek time for several different companies to open their doors and unleash a barrage of toys, videos and books at young kids. I of course loved the popular shows. Shows like TMNT, Tiny Toons, Care Bears, My Little Pony, etc. I had a special spot in my heart for them all. But there were a few that were widely unknown. Most of these were popular but only really had one animated episode created. I kinda just wanted to gush about them a bit. Because these were underrated and I felt needed more recognition. A few of these did have a few episodes out on VHS but most only had one or two episodes. Some you may recognize, some not. Granted I didn’t watch everything that aired in the late 80s and early 90s. But these are some I just remembered.

Rose Petal Place

This one had only one episode, several dolls and apparently a board game XD. Rose Petal Place was about a group of flowers. They were given life when a little girl cried over them, wishing to stay with her flower garden forever. But the family was forced to move and she had to leave her poor garden behind. The magic behind those tears transformed the flowers into real magical beings whose sole duty it was to protect the garden per the young girls wishes. Rose’s voice is the only thing that can keep the flowers blooming in the garden. Her singing brings life back and her spunky and upbeat personality kept me intrigued as a child. I loved girl heroes fighting bad guys as a child. It inspired me and showed me I could be as strong as her. Rose never backed down even when her voice was stolen from her by Nastina the classic spider villain in the series. She still tried to sing even without her voice. One of the very first lines we hear from Rose Petal perfectly defines what kind of character she is. Nastina: Rose Petal. You think you can restore the rose garden with your singing? Rose Petal: You know I can. (hands on hips) She was pretty classy too for a cartoon character. I loved her voice and singing was very on point. The episode itself was rather cliche and dated by todays standards. But the voice acting I felt was mostly on point. It did struggle a bit, but it kept it entertaining even as I watched it a few months ago. Sadly it didn’t really define the characters all that well. But I think given the chance it could have been a nice series. Maybe even with more colorful villains. It was very similar to Strawberry Shortcake and Rainbow Brite. I think also with the limited setting and semi unbelievable background story was probably a few of the reasons it didn’t do so well. However, the character designs were pretty cute and I loved the creative concept. “Friends, would you like to be friends? Would you like to share the day with me? We can be anything we want to be!” -Rose Petal  Pound Puppies (1980s)

Okay this one is a bit more popular than the others on this list. But honestly, I forgot about it until recently. The series itself is nice, but the one thing I remembered most about it was the movie.

I think the best part of it was the music. While some songs were meh, Songs like “All In your Mind” and “At the Pound” were pretty good and I found myself singing along. Also it was pretty dark for a kids movie. If you really think about it, the villain was creepy and him turning those puppies into those vicious dogs reminded me a bit of dog fighting and how people turned dogs into killing machines. Plus the background design on these were pretty impressive as well. At least for me anyways. This is really all subjective anyways. But I liked the concept. Who wouldn’t love singing Dogs and cats going on adventures? XD But I feel like a lot of that vanished in the TV series. I got to say I don’t remember the TV series that well. And while it was popular, I think if you think of the 80s cartoons, this one takes a while to come up. It’s not forgotten totally but its not one of the first ones you remember. I certainly didn’t. I remembered the movie more than the TV show. But I also think it was a important show/movie. Because it was the show to bring more awareness about Pounds and shelters. Adopting kitties and dogs from shelters seems common now. But it wasn’t so back then. And a lot of animals were treated very badly at these places. I feel like this had more promise. And I’ll always remember Cooler and his gang from back then. The voice acting was meh most of the time. But some of the characters were pretty interesting and I loved the movie. Also, can I say I love the whole 50s/60′s theme they got going on?! Poodle skirts! YES!

Lady Lovely Locks

Okay for this one, I only remember two episodes in particular off the top of my head. The Dragon Tree, which I loved because of the creative way dragons were born in this world. (Born from flowers the dragon tree bore) and the cute little baby dragons that emerged from them. Plus you got to see Lady Lovely Locks in black of all colors. The second episode being the first one. We get to see first hand at how Lady Lovely Locks can make her kingdom beautiful. Its literally in her hair. Magical girl hair. She was also rocking colored hair before it was popular. The voice acting can be cringe worthy and there’s not much music in this series, which is probably why it never got SUPER popular. It was semi known enough. Again, not one of the first ones I would think of. But I loved the character designs. I think in the 80s there were a lot of creative people wanting to create new and prettier dolls that stood out in one way or another to sell the toys to girls. But the world itself was very creative too and I appreciated that. So yeah the writing and stories kind of fell flat, especially by today’s standards.

But it was a series that doesn’t get nearly enough credit. It was one of the first American magical girls we had really. Lady Lovely Locks was a lady true to every word and not afraid to get her hands dirty to stop Ravenwaves. Also those Pixie Tails were so cute! Peppermint Rose

“Listen... to the legend... of Peppermint Rose...” Can I just say how much love I have to this lesser known cartoon girl? Okay, I admit, this girl at the beginning of her one episode debut was a bit of a brat. Hey they even admit it in the cartoon! Rose is the typical spoiled teen. She has a bit of a attitude problem and is more the hesitant hero than anything. But she has personality!

The writing on this episode is some of the better writing I feel on this list. Not to mention the music in this animated episode was pretty, flowery and I fell in love with many of the lyrics. Here’s the title song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEy536JeVEc “ Sunshine, Rainbows A breeze that gently blows A garden filled with magic The home of Peppermint Rose Daydreams, Laughter A sweet and Fragrant Glow As Four enchanted Maidens Help their gardens grow. There’s lemon Drop Lily So pretty and frilly Miss Vanilla Daisy Kind of Cute And kind of crazy And Dreaming ‘neath a sky of blue Merry Mint Violet dreams here too Someone Special And so the story goes A rose whose a rose Who’s much more than a rose And we call her Peppermint Rose Listen to the Legend Of Peppermint Rose..” Yeah no I had that stuck in my head for weeks.. couldn’t get it out. Despite Rose’s sour personality, she manages to cross a dangerous river, out wit the Bubba Beetle and magically sing the evil Queen turning her good as well as her henchmen because.. y’know...magic! XDDD The ending did seem rushed and the bad guys were very typical bad guys of the time. But I loved that Rose had a lot of negative traits. It goes to show people can change and her transformation into Peppermint Rose only proved that she could be stronger, braver and kinder. I admit the story does not age well. But I loved the music and character designs of them all. The story was also very cute. This was a decent cartoon for the time honestly and I was sad that there was only one episode of this. It had potential to be more. Again, another one like Rainbow Brite. “What’s that Smell?” “Begonia!”

Now I didn’t put Strawberry Shortcake, Rainbow Brite, Jem and the Holograms or any of the other more popular 80s cartoons here because while I did love them to death.. this list is for lesser known cartoons that others may not be familiar with. Granted the 80s and 90s were quite the decades themselves with a ton of cartoons. Both good and ehhh. But these always stuck out to me as a kid. Yes, I was a very girly girl. Still am in a few aspects. But each of these had something I appreciated and carried with me. And all had really cool designs for characters. I just wanted to show how much I appreciated them even as a adult. Even if they are dated and slightly cringe worthy today. I just appreciated the magic they brought with them, the music and the characters. I would love to see great remakes of any one of these. (The new pound puppies is kind of meh to me honestly) But I’d also love a great revival of Rainbow Brite and Jem and the Holograms too. Sorry this got so long. Whew... I think I will wrap this up. If I think of any more I may post something separate. Now remember, keep singing to bring life to those around you, never lose your bone of scone, let down your hair and let it shine and remember this beyond all else: A rose, whose a rose, who’s much more than a rose... And we call her.. Peppermint Rose.

[kaluawoo]

Marauders’ Animagus Forms

Yeah yeah, I know, most people will probably say it’s obvious; James is a stag because of his pride, Sirius is a dog because he’s loyal, and Peter is a rat because he’s a traitor.

Yeah, I’m not buying those, at least not that simply. (This is gonna get long, so let me put it under a cut)

Let’s start with Sirius, because he’s gonna be easiest for me. I’m not disputing that he’s loyal, I know he is, and dogs are known to be very faithful - Other animals are, too, but dogs stand out due to their faithfulness towards humans in particular, and are more well-known for it than other domestic animals.

What, then, am I questioning? Well, why is Sirius a big, black dog? A dachshund is loyal, too. Or a toy poodle, or a Chihuahua. Or a corgi they’re adorable. But no, our dear Padfoot isn’t just a pooch, he’s a big, black, shaggy pup.

Now, let’s start with the breed. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think anyone ever mentioned one, so I’ll assume he’s a mutt. He didn’t have to be; there’s plenty of big dogs with black fur. Irish Wolfhounds come to mind, black labrador, Rottweiler or Dobermann (Though those aren’t fully black), even German Shepherds. He’s from a long line of purebloods obsessed with purity, but he is not a purebred dog.

Because Sirius rejected that idiology. I think an animagus can reflect a LOT about a person’s personality - There are so many different animal species, subspecies and breeds, after all - and refusing to obsess over blood purity like his ancestors was important for him; hence, his animagus form mirrors that.

Now, mutts still come in all shapes and sizes, but Pad is still a big black dog. The size, well, he wanted to keep a darn werewolf company; he must have REALLY wanted to be a big animal. Protecting and helping his friend was so important to him; and a big animal is much more easily able to protect someone than a small one.

That leaves color. A big black dog is also an omen of death; the Grim in Harry Potter specifically, and there are many English folk tales about black dogs like the Barghest. But first, as a nice tidbit: Not all those folk tales say the black dog is evil. Most, yes, but a few have the black dog as a protector; I distinctly remember one where people claim it’s perfectly safe to let children play on the meadows near that village because the dog is watching over them. Now, that sounds like it’s suit Pads.

But it’s more; even though he rejected his Black lineage, it’s still there, looming over him. To non-purebloods, the Black family is probably not the best omen, especially with Voldy on the rise. The first time someone hears Pad’s name, they won’t know that he’s not a blood supremacist; just like someone seeing a huge black mutt won’t know whether that dog is dangerous or not. Sirius may have rejected his family, but in a way, it’s still almost haunting him.

Next up is James. I’ll admit I don’t know as much about deer as I do about dogs (I heard they don’t make too great pets), but regardless, I think just “he’s proud” isn’t enough justification.

Lots of animals are associated with pride. Most prominently lions, but also tigers, and maybe to a lesser extent even domestic cats; also horses, sometimes wolves, and even if you want to stay deer-like, I’d say a moose, elk or reindeer is a tad more impressive than a Stag (I think he’s meant to be a red deer? It’s not explicitly mentioned, but that’s how I’d imagine him). So why did he end up in the shape that he did? If I’d want to keep a werewolf in check, I’d pick a moose. I would NOT mess with them.

First, the carnivores. It’s kind of hard to find the right words, but I’d say in some way, they’re too fierce. Of course, big carnivores don’t just go and kill stuff just because, but most tend to be more aggressive than herbivores; most herbivores as prey animals run away if there’s a danger, while carnivores, being predators, fight. James wouldn’t back down from a fight - And deer can fight, with both antlers and hooves - but once he’s grown out of his teens, he’s more of a carer and nurturer than a fighter, I’d say. And it took me a long-ass time to understand that, while he was a jerk as a teen, he most likely wasn’t one as an adult.

We still have a bunch of herbivores left, though. Well, moose are easy to leave out; they’re solitary, and I, for one, can’t imagine Prongs without his friends. Well, the simplest explanation would probably be that stags are just more well known for trying to impress their does, but I’m not here for analyzing meta reasons, I want to find in-story ones. So, I’ll cheat a little bit and say that the animagus form is mostly based on a person’s core personality, but influenced by lots of things: Not just how the animal actually is, but also how it’s perceived, the wishes of the animagus-to-be, how they think about themselves, all of that. Basically, it’s like the animagus form is trying to communicate as much about the human as it can.

James is, or at least was as a kid, something I’d describe in German as a “Wildfang”; literally it means “wild catch”. I don’t like the English translations I’m finding, so I’ll just describe it as someone - often a child, but sometimes also a young adult - who likes to bend or break rules, and wants to have fun in their own way without caring about society’s expectations of what or how they should be. A little boy preferring to stay out till dark with his friends instead of studying, or a girl playing in the mud without caring about her dress getting dirty. Sound like someone we know?

Now, as a “wild” boy, our little Prongs probably wouldn’t want to be a domesticated animal, or better, wouldn’t see himself as one. Horses can often be described as proud, but the well-trained ones are usually also very obedient.

And elk or reindeer, well... They might be more physically impressive than a red deer, but if people’s expectations about an animal play at least some part, then of course he’d end up the most well-known option, making him a stag. That also opens the interesting thought that it’s more than likely different cultures would cause different animagi, thanks to different ways of looking at animals, but I digress.

Last, but not least, is Peter. Honestly, he’s the main reason for this post, because I adore rats; I never kept any as pets, but I wanted to as a kid. Newsflash: Rats are not traitors. Again for the people in the back:

Rats are not traitors. Rats are incredibly social animals.

Yes, I’ve already assumed human preconceptions have an influence on the animagus form, but I don’t think they could overwrite the animal’s true characteristics. If they could, Padfoot being basically the Grim would mean he’s evil, but he isn’t.

Now that that’s out of the way, what do I mean with “social animals”? Some wild rats teach their young how to open pinecones to get the seeds, which is cute, but there’s something even more amazing: There have been experiments with a trapped rat, and a free rat. The free rat was able to push a button, releasing the trapped one.

It doesn’t stop there; in further experiments, they made it so the rat had to swim to get to the button, which rats normally don’t like. It did so anyway, to help the trapped one. They also put some delicious food out; the free rat often ate some, but not all, before releasing the trapped one, basically sharing the food. Unrelated to that, rats are among the rodents most likely to bond with their owner. Mice, degus (even though they’re adorable), even guinea pigs; some might bond with their owner, but by far not all. And even then, it’s kind of rare they’d want to cuddle - rats do.

And that is supposed to mean “traitor”? Really? Rats get a bad rep, I know, but how can you look at that stuff and decide “Yep, that means someone who can turn into a rat HAS to be evil!”?

So how does it relate to Wormtail? Well, while it’s a movie quote (Sorry - books are longer ago, and I haven’t read them as often as I watched the movies), I distinctly remember someone saying that Peter used to cling to his friends’ coattails, and at least I don’t remember any book quote refuting that. Rats are group animals, they need other rats in order to be happy; suits being a bit clingy with friends, doesn’t it?

Now, of course, rats aren’t the only social animals around. Wolves are probably among the most well-known, but there’s plenty of herd or pack animals. Well, first, I’d throw out the big ones - Wolves, lions, horses, etc. Yes, they’re group animals and need company of their own, too. But can you imagine Wormtail as a lion?

I’m verging into headcanon territory, but I feel like Peter probably lacked self-confidence and self-esteem. James and Sirius were cocky as they could be, and Remus, even though he probably had moments when he doubted himself, still comes across as mostly self-assured. But Peter?

Most big animals aren’t only known for being group animals; they’re also known for things like pride, strength, ferocity. Peter may have wanted to be a big animal to help his friend (yes he was part of the Marauders, another thing I took a long-ass time to accept. He betrayed them later on, but during Hogwarts, they were one group), but his self-doubts might have reflected on his form. What if he messed up? What if he couldn’t keep Moony in check and someone got hurt? As a tiny rat, there would’ve been nothing he could’ve done anyway, right?

Now, even small animals often have groups. Rabbits, guinea pigs, mice, degus... So there’s still lots of options. Some other things rats are known for is curiosity, intelligence, and being survivors.

Let’s start with curiosity. Wormtail was a Marauder. Secret passage? Neat! New path in the forbidden forest? Let’s check it out next full moon with Moony! He wasn’t just an accessory, he was part of the group, so I’m willing to bet he was just as adventurous as the other boys. While my degus are excellent at breaking out of their cage, they also get startled easily, not exactly adventurer material.

Now, intelligence. Okay, I’ll admit, I don’t remember if there were any mentions of Wormtail’s grades, but I remember reading a headcanon that he was the one best at coming up with excuses, and I can believe that, even though I’d guess his grades weren’t too great. He might’ve lacked book smarts, but he probably had a good helping of street smarts; bad application of ‘em, but he managed to frame Sirius for the murder of twelve muggles and then live with a family full of wizards - pretty smart ones, at that! - for a pretty long time. Look me in the eye and tell me that doesn’t require any cunning or intelligence. (I do say my degus are smarter than I am, but nobody knows what they are, and I just can’t imagine a new animagus ending up as an animal they don’t even know)

Last is the survival instinct. Look, talking to Voldy wasn’t noble, but it probably helped Peter’s survival. And, honestly? I have no idea what I would do in that kind of situation. Yeah, it looks like it goes against the social part, but - Does it? Voldy definitely threatened Wormtail’s life, but Wormtail was not alone. They sent his finger to his mother, if I recall correctly; what if Voldy threatened her, too? What if Wormtail had to decide between the lives of James, Lily and Harry, and the lives of his mother and himself? I adore my friends, but even though I hope I’d be able to protect them, I’m not sure if I could. And if my brother’s life was in danger, too, or my parents? I genuinely hope I will never, ever have to make a choice like that, because I couldn’t. I don’t love Peter for what he’s done, but I don’t exactly blame him, either. Fear makes you do weird things.

So, to wrap it up, Peter’s not a rat because he’s a traitor. He’s a rat because he’s social and loves his friends; he’s a rat because he’s curious and loves adventure; he’s a rat because he’s smarter than he thinks, and because he’s a survivor. Good people do bad things under the right kind of pressure, and being threatened with death - your own or a loved ones - is one hell of a pressure.

[seaglassandsanddollars]

*Barking of the Dogs

 As an adult, in every place I have ever lived there have been dog issues.  The issues were always mine, but only once the dog was.  As a child and teen, there were various family dogs but I never participated in their care and barely acknowledged their existence. I was a cat person and took consistent care of the cats and labeled them as mine.  

I like dogs, really, as long as their friendly, allow me to talk baby talk to them, don’t expect me to walk them, and especially, don’t expect me to pick up after them.  The one dog I owned as an adult was exceptional.  He was a Lhasa Apso named Sam and he was the sweetest most loving dog you could imagine.  I miss him every day.

I didn’t have another dog after Sam because it didn’t seem fair to a dog with my work schedule.  A cat was more conducive.  I love cats so our family pet Tigger years later, was a perfect fit.  For nineteen years he never failed to be the perfect family pet.  I miss him every day also.  

During Tigger’s lifetime, we lived in two different homes but between selling the first and buying the second, we rented for nine months.  There were dog issues in each one.  It’s like, dogs knew I couldn’t have one and were laughing at me.  Paranoid?  Indeed. I believe they mocked me.

In my first home I owned, Sam lived until I carried my son.  After Dave was born the neighbor in the back allowed his dog to be tied up all night outside; not the brightest person in the world.  The dog, understandably, barked most of the night.  So, the next day I sent my husband to speak to the man and the dog never barked again.  It takes a man; not!

Divorce happened several years later and that is when Tigger came to be a part of our little family. A close friend and neighbor moved out of the home next door and a new neighbor moved in with two dogs, a husband, and a couple kids.  I tried to be nice, but, well, she really wasn’t which added to the barking aggravation. It made it worse. The world should know that being nice goes very far and softens any aggravation a person’s existence may bring.  So, I had to speak to the husband since I didn’t have one of my own to do the dirty work and from that point on the neighbor stopped letting the dogs out at six am.  We compromised on 730…my wake-up time.  Battle won, war still waging.

The dogs next-door were two black labs and that breed can be snotty if they feel their territory threatened in any way.  Fortunately, their yard bordered my garage and a small section of fencing; another battle won.  Dogs barked intermittently and their owners continued to prove to be distasteful, to say the least.  Strange would be accurate, selfish appropriate.

Finally, it was time to sell my home in a good market and move on and appropriately for me, closer to the beach.  Our current home had been a two-mile car ride to the closest beach and I wanted to be able to ride our bikes there.  My son was basically growing up in the back seat of my car as he was transported from event to event and place to place.  He wanted to learn to surf and a beach house would be apropos.  So, we packed up and began a grand adventure searching for the perfect beach house.

While on our journey we moved to a winter rental in another shore town.  There were no dogs, at first.  So quiet was this uptight seashore community that I enjoyed the brief solitude and introspection.  A fierce snowstorm settled in that winter and almost immediately dog poo showed up along the street curbs, everywhere.  Even in the snottiest towns of America, with the highest fines for lack of pooper scooping, people can be lazy if they think no one will notice.  I garnered solace from the fact that we would not be living there forever.

The winter rental was up and the house I had in attorney review had to be canceled or rather, run away from.  The new home was the Manasquan, lagoon home I thought I wanted with the intentions that my son could have his own boat and enjoy a season or two at the shore, but I panicked at the last minute when the inspection report came in.  The only good thing about the house was that it did not have termites and that was only because termites can’t swim.  The next rental was a bomb, but it was summer at the shore and that was just the way it was.  At least no dogs were there, but that should have been my first clue.  Not even the dogs would live here.

I found our second home but the sellers could not move for two months.  Battle won; war ongoing.  I could not take one more second in our summer shack and moved in with a ‘friend’ in her huge shore home in one of the richest communities at the shore, with her dog.  I have friend in air quotes because this was not a gift, this was a deal.  I took care of her mother over the following winter, something I did not have time for and should not have been expected to do. Some friends are thieves in disguise. Dog=thieving ‘friend’= war ongoing.  

That dog barked like a banshee but was friendly, most of the time.  It was what it was.  Our bird died while we lived there.  He knew.

We took occupation of the second home October first.  The next-door neighbor moved in about a month before us.  They had a nasty, small, black, mixed breed that barked like an idiot. It wasn’t for protection; this was the suburbs.  It was rude and nasty like them.

I tried everything. The silent dog bark eliminator beeper I bought online for $40 worked for a little while.  Eight long years later, after yelling, bitching, pissing, and moaning, I finally called the cops.  The neighbors had gone out and left the dog outside to bark at 1130 at night, waking me up two hours before I had to get up at 2 am for a commercial job I had just picked up.  I ran into a local policeman at the post office and told him what happened.  He said I should have called years ago. Battle won.  War still engaged.  

I sold that house under an intense amount of stress and financial loss.  I was heartbroken, wrecked, and totally disillusioned.  It was under this cloud of sadness and depression that I moved to a dog less neighborhood a half hour south.  There was no relief, no war concessions, no ending, just coping.  There were no dogs to comfort, distract, or annoy me.  Life got very quiet.  Then Sandy rolled into and through my life, literally and figuratively.

I moved in with family for nine months.  There were two dogs there.  Then one. Then two.  Now one.  I loved each of these dogs and still, love the last one.  They were all kind, sweet, loving, comforting, and I miss not living with them.  The neighborhood dogs there, however, left a lot to be desired.  It seems that people move into a rural area and believe that anything goes.  Sometimes they believe their dogs should be allowed to run free throughout the woods that border all these new neighborhoods.  As long as I made it safely from the car to the house without incident, I considered it a good day.

Time moved on and so did I, this time very alone.  My son was growing quickly through the stages of his life and no longer lived with me. I suppose it was a good thing since I no longer had a house but instead lived in a one-bedroom apartment.  Life changed but the war raged on.  

The new apartment was a garage apartment in a bucolic atmosphere that had a yappy tiny toy poodle with a man that used to push her around the neighborhood in a pink carriage.  I don’t know which was worse; his obnoxious wife, him, the dog, the carriage, or his belching every morning the minute he opened the back door.  It was the music of my morning as I sat on my north facing upper deck.  

There were no dogs on the other side of my apartment, just an old man I had a running feud with until the last two months I lived there.  We are now Besties.  Coincidence? I think not.  There was, however, a big black Lab behind me that the owner rarely made sure stayed in the yard.  I heard a rustle and a growl during my last four months there.  I looked over the railing and he looked up at me and started to wag his tail and pant.  A message? Absolutely!  Time to go.  I was purging.  Clearing out the cancerous cells, the bad vibes, the alcoholics I used to allow in my life, the sadness, the helplessness, the misguiding thinking, and the lessons learned.  Battle won; war continued.

Now I look at the ocean from all the east facing windows in my multi-level apartment.  It’s beautiful.  I watch the sunrise.  I watch the birds.  I’m on top of the world and under a hot tub.  I brought beautiful energy to this little neighborhood and the opportunity to clear out the heaviness that had festered here without anyone’s knowledge.

It’s quiet in the winter. Too quiet.  When spring finally comes, the neighborhood bursts with life. All the birds return with the people. I wake up before sunrise, open my door to nowhere, and look out over the I love, for now.  This is the someplace that allows me to listen to beautiful morning doves until the new Labradoodle puppy next door is let out to pee at 615am and then yelps for twenty minutes until he is let back in.  He had an older brother that was there last year greeting me every morning and telling me to get my lazy ass out of bed and enjoy life. After all, the sun was about to rise, the battles were won, my comrades in arms were still with me, and the wars were all over.

[s3vendw4rfs-blog]

Blog #1 - WHO I AM

Hey person reading this, my name is Easton Kishimoto and I am a second year student here majoring in Psychology. Although I am originally from a somewhat small city near LA called Torrance, I am familiar with NorCal because my mother grew up in Gilroy, my grandparents lived in San Mateo, and my oldest brother graduated here seven years ago and he lived in Oakland for seven years before moving to San Jose recently. If I am being honest, I love Oakland the best out of the places I have been in NorCal because the culture and the reality of the world captivates me.

I am the youngest of five children (my mother wanted ten), so I tend to lean towards older people and have the tendency to think like an old head. Of the five children, there is only one girl who is the middle child. We aren't really close, but we will protect each other in the end, at least I hope so lol. My mother currently lives in Texas because the Toyota headquarters moved there, and my father still lives in Torrance working at Honda. I also have two dogs that are twin toy poodles (one black and one white). I think that’s enough about my family though.

In my opinion, I am a pretty simple person; I love sports, especially basketball, and I love taking photos and listening to music, especially hip hop. I mainly focus on school and work, but I do occasionally hang out with friends. Getting in tough with nature, music, and life in general are big aspects of how I live my life, which is why I am a psychology major. I believe in having optimism in life and just living life to the fullest because there is not much else we can do while we are alive. The present and living in the now is important, but looking back to learn about history and looking forward to what’s to come is always necessary, too. I always say that if today is a bad day, there is always tomorrow to look forward to because every day is a new day.

Signed,

Easton Kishimoto

[nurplenurple]

Tag Game

I was tagged by @egglorru

last?

drink: I forget what brand this is but "Throat Coat" tea phone call: my boyfriend text message: my boyfriend song you listened to: Selena - Bidi Bidi Bom Bom time you cried: Last week on my birthday

ever?

dated someone twice: wat? I don't really understand the question but in any case, the answer is no. kissed someone and regretted it: no been cheated on: no lost someone special: Yes, my brother. Darkest day of my life. gotten drunk and thrown up: Nope! fave colors?: I LOVE PINK OKAY THERE I SAID IT

in the last year have you?

made new friends: Yep! :D fallen out of love: no laughed until you cried: Yep! found out someone was talking about you: Not that I can remember met someone who changed you: nuh uh found out who your friends are: I have like three friends and they're all my best friends for lyfe <3 kissed someone on your Facebook friends list: My boyfriend isn't even on facebook so nah

general

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: All except one do you have any pets: Miya, my toy poodle! He (yes, HE! He was named after Miya from the band MUCC. I was super into Jrock back when we got him lol) is my baby and I love him soooo much ;A; do you want to change your name: Not really what did you do for your last birthday: My best friend and I went to San Japan! what time did you wake up today: like 2pm? am a nightowl what were you doing last night at midnight: drawing probably what is something you can’t wait for:  To watch Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms! what are you listening to right now: nothing have you ever talked to a person named tom: Probably something that gets on your nerves: Lots of things, but I'm tired and I can't remember any lmao most visited website: Tumblr hair colour: Dark brown long or short hair: Long what do you like about yourself: lots of things want any piercings: Eyebrow, and the labret I had in high school healed up so that, too blood type: I forgot nicknames: Genghis, nickname from high school, don't remember how the fuck that came to be but there it is XD; relationship status: Taken (6 years! or 7?  I lost count...he is so much better at keeping track than I am XD;; ) zodiac sign: *Jenna Marbles voice* I'M A VIRGO!! fave tv show: Like regular tv? Breaking Bad is my all time favorite!! Orange Is The New Black is pretty rad, too tattoos: none....not yet anyway right or left handed: Right ever had surgery: Gall bladder, wisdom teeth piercings: my labret closed up years ago so no....sigh.... sports: no trainers: Pokemon eating: I'm not eating right now but  the last thing I ate was Taco Bell drinking: Tea i’m about to watch: Game Grumps waiting for: I dunno... want: Money get married: Yeah most likely career: Trophy wife hugs or kisses: HUGS lips or eyes: Lips shorter or taller: Who cares as long as they're hot older or younger: Who cares as long as they're hot and over 18 nice arms or stomach: Oof, biceps hookup or relationship: RELATIONSHIP~ troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant

have you ever?

kissed a stranger: No drank hard liquor: Yes lost glasses: YES! IN THE OCEAN! ON A MIDDLE SCHOOL FIELD TRIP! UGH turned someone down: Yes sex on the first date: No broken someone’s heart: No had your heart broken: No been arrested: Yes cried when someone died: Yes fallen for a friend: No

do you believe in

yourself: Yeah, sure miracles: No love at first sight:  No kiss on the first date: I...don't actually like kissing...D: angels: No

other?

best friend’s name: Michelle, Jolie, Rhonda <3 eye colour: Dark Brown fave movie: Currently the LOTR Trilogy (you can't seperate them, it is law) and Your Name favourite actor: don't really have one favourite food: Sushi and Pizza extrovert or introvert: Introvert favourite flower: Peonies favourite hello kitty character? Keroppi!

I tag whoever wants to do it! :P

[moodring89]

Dragons & Bambi

 The above is inspiration :)

Pairing: Yoonji x Reader (F X F) Rated: M / NC-17 Genre: Gender bend!AU Warnings:  Light degrading, Possessive love, Jealousy, Anal play, Dildos, Face riding, Spankings     Summary: You were going to war against Yoonji. If she hadn’t cut and dyed her hair, she’d made for a stunning Mulan. Ah, yes. You could see it now. Yoonji – sneaking off into the middle of the night to fight on her father’s behalf, being sassed all damn day by an ancestral guardian, and getting trained rather poorly, by you, no less. No – damn it. You had to quit doing that. This is the sequel to Snow White & Bambi. I recommend reading it first, although it isn’t absolutely necessary.

Notes: 1. This will be the last of the Yoonji x Reader series. I loved writing it, but I’d put other ideas on hold to make this sequel, and I’d like to return to them. 2. There is a section in this story about polymorphic relationships. Yoonji is not down for it and neither is the reader, however that doesn’t reflect how I feel on the matter. Love is love and that’s it. I’ve written a polyamorous story with Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok on my ao3. It’s called SOAK. I’ll probably write more in the future. Sometimes readers will take what is written to base an opinion on the writer, but that’s not how things work. 3. Bad Dragon is real. It’s super real. I love the site. Those of you who are of age, definitely take a look. That being said, the Seadragon is real, too. 4. I edited this so fast, it probably sucks, but a promise is a promise :)   ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Dragons & Bambi It had all started with War, which wasn’t real original, but most of the best laid plans weren’t…all that fucking original. How the hell were you expected to play a four way game of War? Yoonji had two decks of playing cards, apparently. Your beautiful, stormy princess liked to gamble. You could tell by the way she effortlessly listed off card games you’d never heard of. Taehyeon herself only knew how to play Uno and you were only vaguely familiar with Black Jack. Jimin couldn’t bear to be typical, claiming that she was merely out of practice, but that she wouldn’t mind relearning Poker. Right. That was the moment when it was decided that you were going to war against Yoonji. If she hadn’t cut and dyed her hair, she would have made for a stunning Mulan. Ah, yes. You could see it now. Yoonji – sneaking off into the middle of the night to fight on her father’s behalf, being sassed all damn day by an ancestral guardian, and being trained rather poorly, by you, no less. No – damn it. You had to quit doing that. Today was supposed to be spent appreciating Yoonji’s cozy studio apartment and her new sleek, black Fazioli. She’d been saving up for the piano for so long, which was why she hardly ate at lunch, and lived off of Costco sized boxes of ramen. She’d played earlier for you and your friends, all parties had been entranced by the way her delicate fingers bent into each key, each stroke graceful and precise. You had to wonder if basketball was just a hobby and this was her real passion. A discussion for another time. Things had changed since thirty minutes ago, what with how your two friends and girlfriend were now sitting on her fluffy mint carpet, emptying their purses out in some sad attempt at upping the stakes. It was Yoonji’s suggestion, of course, since she was a goddamned criminal! You would make it a point to question her about her shady past. Perhaps on a day where you’d be down with losing your girlfriend, turning her in for bounty. You honestly hadn’t been expecting this outcome and you didn’t have any cash on you. You didn’t believe in the stuff anymore, using your credit card for literally everything. Yoonji stared at you, expectantly, “Well?” You zipped up your bag, defeated, “I’ve got nothing, unless we can throw in some tampons?” “Oh, Tampax or Playtex?” Taehyeon asked, seeming genuinely curious. “She wears Always pads, because she’s too afraid to use anything else,” Yoonji mused, thoroughly enjoying the flustered look that washed over you then, like the doom had settled in deep enough to take up residence. She shook her head at your friend, “The tampons are mine and aren’t to be used as currency.” Holly, Yoonji’s toy poodle, padded its way on over into your lap. Pouting as she spoke, your girlfriend shared an idea, “Why not just offer yourself up? Winner gets to do whatever they’d like with you.” Now that – that was interesting. Any kind of scenario where you would get to piss her off was advantageous for you, since Yoonji’s retaliation was often at times an experience. “Anything they’d like with me?” you reiterated, slowly. Yoonji stared between Jimin and Taehyeon. You could tell that she wasn’t in the least bit threatened by them, “I trust your friends, unless you don’t?” Taehyeon peered over at you pitifully, a small tremble to her bottom lip that made your heart sink with a heavy, tangible guilt you had no right to be feeling. Wow, your girlfriend sucked. “Of course I trust them,” you said, immediately. You then scooted towards Taehyeon, gingerly cradling her to your chest in an attempt to comfort her. Goodness, she was adorable. You hushed her softly, “I trust you, Tae-Tae.” Jimin was all too aware of the game that you were currently playing. Not the card game that was about to commence, but the, ‘let’s make Yoonji have regrets’ mind game. She scooped up her cards once Yoonji had expertly shuffled and dealt them out evenly, which – why was that so sexy to you? Jimin decided to go ahead and try her hand at acting, “Jeongguk’s still dying for that threesome, preferably with another girl. You wouldn’t mind helping me out with that should I win, would you?” “Looks like I don’t have much of a choice,” you said, trying your best not to cackle when Yoonji’s body grew stiff from out of your peripheral. She grew quiet then. Taehyeon covered her shocked gasp behind her deck, wide-eyed, “Unnie! I was just gonna have her reorganize my closet or alphabetize my games, or maybe walk Tanie a few times. So, like, okay, I was gonna make her do all of the above, but sexual favors? How could you?” Goddamn it, Taehyeon. Stop being so fucking cute. “Well, after the humiliation he faced during the whole cafeteria debacle a few weeks back, I’m sure that he’d be thrilled to finally get to have at least one of you…” Jimin sighed for the dramatics, looking less like soft mochi and a hell of a lot more like devil’s food cake. She stared hard at Yoonji, using the thugged-out version of her Busan dialect for the occasion, “…Jeongguk would love to play with your precious baby Bambi.” Oh, ho, ho, ho, Merry fucking Christmas. Jimin just delivered. “I’d just like to be invited,” Taehyeon joked, oblivious to the tension that was slowly consuming the air in the room, suffocating those of you who were clued in on the situation. The metaphorical storm clouds were just starting to roll in, casting a shadow that loomed overhead. “Play your cards,” Yoonji said, the tone in which she spoke with uncharacteristically light, as she maintained an eerily calm demeanor. If you were being honest, it was kind of terrifying, but in a way that also made you want to straddle her hips and start kissing her pale neck – wait, no. The game started with the four of you flipping your cards down in unison. It was law of the universe, which you both loved and hated. For some reason, things always seemed to go this way. You’d anticipated a couple of different outcomes, even though War was a game of chance. It required no skill to be played, zero finesse whatsoever. You thought Jimin would have her victory or that you’d end up a few dollars richer. Maybe you’d even become Tae’s personal dog walker, but no – it never, ever truly went the way you’d like it to, and the odds were never, ever in your favor. Because Yoonji had won and if you knew your girlfriend, she wouldn’t hold you to anything, especially since she already had you, right? And she often used you however the hell she pleased, so no real excitement there. Being extra petty about it, she refused any challenges for a rematch, using the excuse of it being late, and that she was tired, even though she usually doesn’t fall asleep until four in the morning, and it was only ten in the evening. The girls left shortly after that, being chased off by Holly, until they were out the door. You stood at the center of the room, rather awkwardly, while Yoonji quietly picked her Naruto printed cards up from the floor. You’d thought things would calm down some, but the tension had only amplified the moment you two were alone. After what had felt like an eternity of unbearable silence, you’d gathered up enough courage to ask her, “Am I staying the night or am I going home, Yoonji?” To keep yourself busy, you started nervously pulling at the Lord of the Rings sheets, making them neater. It was the extra set from your place that you’d given to her upon learning that she’d only had the Lord Nermal ones. No one should have to live under those conditions. An odd sensation hit your chest when she didn’t answer you at first. It felt like a hand had reached its way in and squeezed tight around your heart, Temple of Doom style. “Staying,” she’d said, finally. It killed you that Yoonji even had to think it over. How long had it taken her to decide that she wanted you there? You already knew what you did wrong, but that hadn’t stopped you from inquiring, “What did I do? Was it the Jeongguk thing? I know you don’t really know Jimin very well yet, but she’d never make me do something like that. It was only meant as a joke.” She looked at you, seriously, “Well, I didn’t find it funny, especially when Jeongguk had actually propositioned us.” So, that was it, then. You’d managed to really upset her, which hadn’t been your full intentions. Now you felt awful. “I don’t want him that way and it’s not something that I would ever let happen, because I…” She narrowed her eyes at you, waiting for the rest of that sentence. The word ‘love’ hadn’t come up yet, but it was true. You loved Yoonji. “I thought it was pretty obvious, considering that I’m with you.” “Yeah, that’s another thing,” she said, getting up from her spot on the floor. The way she started to pace gave away to how strongly she felt about it, how important it was to her. You steeled yourself for whatever the hell it was, as she continued, “I don’t understand how your friends can just give each other away so freely. Could you lend me out? Could you watch me fuck someone else? Could you do it? Would you risk me falling for someone else?” You took a moment digesting her words, “I’m not into polyamorous relationships or spontaneous three ways. So, no…I wouldn’t risk it, and I don’t really want to share you. I don’t want to care for anyone else this way…” She’d just opened herself up to you, so it was only right that you should return the favor. “Sometimes, I feel so much for you that it scares me? I’m really not used to it. ‘Kay, like Tinkerbelle, I think my heart is too small to love more than just one.” Oh, shit. Wait. “I meant, like, liking more than just one…” You covered your face, because one, it was fucking embarrassing, and two you were so close to saying that you loved her. You loved her too much to add another person and you were a selfish being with your own jealousy issues. Yoonji had always made you feel so secure in your relationship that you never had to show it, but it was there. Holly was one or two licks away from being homeless, piano skills or not. Yoonji’s hands were cold when she placed them atop of yours, gently prying them away from your face, so that she could look at you. There was a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, smug, “I love you, too, Bambi.” That was one way to break you completely. The words could now safely be shared between you both and she hadn’t even teased you about your ridiculous metaphor. Ah, Yoonji. You leaned into her and hid your face into the base of her neck. You could cry from the happiness, but you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d save it for tomorrow during your shower. Instead, you enjoyed the way she held you against her, slowly rocking you from one foot to the other. “I didn’t think you’d get this upset,” you sighed, somewhat shakily given all the emotions coursing through you at the moment. You smoothed your hands along her back, clinging like a koala. She smelled so fucking good, like fabric softener and that fancy brand perfume she always wore. “Really, I didn’t mean for it to go that far, but this talk had to happen.” You felt a chill run down your spine when she’d paused, chuckling dryly, “Were you trying to upset me, baby?” Too much time had passed to the point where the answer had become obvious. What was the use of denying it now? “Yes, but I regretted it the moment I realized that you were angry.” “Awe, but you got your way…” Yoonji said, slipping her fingers through your hair in soothing strokes, comforting and baiting you all at once, “…again. So, how am I expected to believe that you’re being sincere with me?” “Well, if you’d just…” believe me? There was no way out of the hole you’d just dug yourself in. You knew that – she knew that, as she gently pulled your head back so that you were staring up into two stones of onyx. Despite how soft the action had been, you knew that she’d felt tested, and that patience had been lost on her a long time ago. She commanded you, softly, “On your knees, sweetheart.” And the only reason she was soft, was because she knew that you would do it, regardless of the tone she used on you. Accomplishing this task meant you had to move slowly, due to the fact that she’d yet to release her grip on your hair. Once you were kneeling on the floor, she used her other hand to grab at the side of your face. Long, ring adorned fingers were splayed out across your cheek, roughly dragging her thumb over your bottom lip. “Open up for me.” The voice she kept using was notably rich and smooth like honey, which had its own pleasant effect on you, especially when it was obvious that Yoonji thirsted – fucking thirsted for you. You could see it in the way her drowsy catlike eyes settled on your mouth, while she waited. You parted your lips, her skin skimming past your teeth when she pushed two slim digits inside your mouth. Yoonji was all about sensation play – already hissing at the warmth she was met with, enjoying the wet velvet beneath her fingertips. Your brows creased when she pushed in deeper, her two fingers spreading around your tongue, mimicking the in and out motion of being fucked. She sighed, deeply, “Jeongguk would love this, wouldn’t he? He’d love nothing more, than to slide his cock inside your hot little mouth.” You whimpered at the husk in her tone, the implication of her words – Yoonji was still upset with you, and for that, she would be relentless. The saliva dripping down past your chin only served to spur her on, as she took a step closer, her legs pressed to your knees. The angle forced you to arch your back, small hands grappling onto the hem of her hooded sweatshirt for balance. She leered down at you, “Look at how well you take me. Are you sure you’ve never done this before? You’re making such a mess, Bambi.” You breathed through your nose, focusing more on suction, cheeks hollowed as you met each thrust of her fingers, slurping around them lewdly. Three was your limit when your jaw had started to ache and your scalp was screaming, when she gave a particularly hard tug at the roots. It was like the more you tried pleasing her, the more annoyed she’d become. “If I had a cock, I’d never stop fucking you,” she said quietly, removing her fingers from your mouth and bringing them to the curve of her lips. “The best part would be…” She slowly licked each digit clean of your saliva, pink tongue flashing, and curling. “…filling you up with my cum and if you spilt it, I’d just fuck it back into you with my fingers. I’d make you hold it in, until you’ve understood that you’re mine.” You swallowed at the lump in your throat, overwhelmed by the picture she’d painted for you. “This is going to be very difficult for you to hear and I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, but I really don’t want Jeongguk,” you said, resting your shaky hands on the tops of your thighs. “You and the fact the you’re a girl, everything…Your body is what’s attractive to me, especially your…” Your eyes stared past her lower stomach, hinting at it, because there was no cute way to say it, in your mind, anyway. Yoonji narrowed her eyes at you, sneering, “My what, baby? My pussy? It’s funny how you can’t even say it, yet you claim to love it so much…” She unbuttoned the top of her jeans, the black ones with the many tears in them. Being pleasured wasn’t Yoonji’s favorite part. There’d been truth to when she’d stated that getting you off, got her off. Whenever she came to you for release first, it was like a special occasion. You felt as the excitement pooled at the pit of your stomach, watching in silent enrapt as she started stripping down into her sports bra, and boy-shorts. Yoonji was a sight to behold. All fair skinned and delicately toned in such few places, and was softer in others. You moved onto the bed, kicking your lazy egg skippers off carelessly. The mattress shifted beneath her weight, as she joined you, your legs falling around her waist to pull her closer. ‘You can’t even say it…’ “I love your pussy,” you breathed out across her lips, bravado there and gone, as you hid into a soft kiss, teeth pulling at her lips the same way she often used against you, hoping that it would wipe her mind clear of your abrupt statement. Her breath hitched with a short laugh, as she removed the pillows from under your head, and tossed them behind her. You knew what she wanted just from that single move, that she would want you to eat your words. “Mm, you also love eating it, too,” she husked, confirming it your beliefs – gathering your hair into a knot at the top of your head, getting it out of the way. It was the small things that Yoonji did that reminded you that she was the one in control. It was how you both preferred it to be. Cupping your face for a short, soft kiss, Yoonji steadied her intense gaze on you, “…and I’m going to ride your mouth, however I want, for as long as I want.” “Come on, then…” you encouraged her, trailing your fingers down her sides and to her hips, guiding her forward. She was very careful when spreading her pale knees over your shoulders, leaning slightly so that you could pull her panties aside. The material was already soaked through with her arousal, the scent of her thick and heady – your mouth practically salivating, eager to taste her. She lowered her hips, slotting herself perfectly against your mouth, all firm and tight without any plausible escape then. The first taste was always satisfying to you, like sweetened salt on your tongue that you wanted to drink in. “Ah, fuck…” she hissed, one hand gripping your hair with the other twisted in the sheets, using both as leverage to grind down onto your tongue. You knew that it wouldn’t take much with Yoonji being so sensitive, even more so than yourself. She’d spiraled fast, coming in a myriad of shivers and filthy expletives. Yes, fuck your mouth, fuck her, and fuck you again. She hadn’t moved off your mouth, when she guided your fingers towards her dripping entrance, tilting her head back when you eased two of them into her slowly, one at a time despite how slick she already was from coming. You pumped your fingers in and out of her tight warmth, mindful of whenever she moved back against them. Her hand grew tight in your hair, “You’re so good, baby. You’re so, so, so good…” She was going to be the death of you… You moaned at the appraisal, the sound of it reverberating against her clit – her back curling, much like a cat’s, in response to the pleasure thrumming throughout her entire body. You dug your nails into her skin, knowing that anywhere you touched was bound to leave a mark, as was the curse of Yoonji’s pale skin. She groaned at the sharp sensation, as she started to undulate her hips in earnest, caught between the quickened thrusts of your fingers, and the wet strokes of your tongue. She’d chased her second orgasm, until she’d felt properly wrecked by it, trembling so hard that you had to hold her still. The guttural sound she made when you pulled your fingers from her made ache at your core, going from dull to acutely uncomfortable. She loosened her grip on your hair and leaned back, so that she wasn’t smothering you for the time being. You licked at your swollen lips, chest heaving for air. It wasn’t as though you were oblivious to the fact you’d been painfully turned on since the moment she asked you to kneel. You knew that inside your panties was an embarrassing mess. Your eyes closed, breathing out, “How do you always taste so good?” “It’s because I’m part peach and we aren’t done yet. I still want your tongue, so stick it out…” her voice was throaty and raw – doing things, doing things to you. And a part of you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but you did as she asked, extending the muscle into a point as best as you could. Since Yoonji was taller, it was easy for her to sit up to align her soaked entrance with your tongue. She sank down, pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth at the soft, velvety intrusion. It would take much longer to do her in a third time, but you were enthusiastic. The shallow thrusts of your tongue hadn’t been enough to do her in alone, as she rubbed herself to completion. When she’d finally released, you soothed her through it, trailing the flat of your tongue against her slick, cleaning her in the same manner she so often did for you, enjoying the small jolts of her body, still over sensitized. She rolled off of you, throwing her limbs about wherever. Your girlfriend was gorgeous when she was utterly blissed out. Her skin was lightly covered in a blanket of sweat from the exertion, flushed a pretty pink from her ears down to her chest. Her nipples were painfully erect, visibly showing through the thin material of her sports bra. You wanted, but you were not permitted to have. So, you tried to focus on something else, finding that Holly was in his bed with his back turned, a paw placed on one of the keys to his mini piano, asleep. Thank god. After deciding that she wasn’t going to fall asleep easy, Yoonji tapped your arm. You looked over at her and were met with a thumbs up. Your heart was still racing from being engaged in sexual congress for what had felt like several hours with her, lips swollen and tingling as a result. You were so horrifically turned on to the point where you were half-tempted to ride one of her stuffed animals for relief. Thumbs up. “I’m gonna go shower,” she said, promptly patting the space between your legs, where you were practically throbbing. You covered your face with your arm, biting into the skin, because what the actual fuck? A slight curve of her fingers and she was firmly cupping you into her palm. Oh, my god. The way she pressed in revealed just how soaked you were, but there was no invitation sent your way, when she wordlessly abandoned you there. Was Yoonji still angry with you? At the thought of Jimin using you in a threesome that would never, ever happen? You laughed into the quiet of the room, thoroughly annoyed at the situation. It wasn’t a common thing, since Yoonji could do no wrong in your eyes, but this was just absurd. When she finally returned, her silver hair was mostly towel dried, and she was wearing her favorite black sheep pajamas, the pair that you’d secretly coveted. You’d only just managed to calm yourself down, when she slipped under the sheets. Before bed, she usually liked to enjoy the splendors of Reddit, pawing at you to look at whatever she found to be particularly hilarious, but tonight went differently. Instead, you were being engulfed by her slender limbs wrapping around you like vines. You grew still when you felt her mouth pressed hot and wet against sensitive shell of your ear, as she spoke quietly, “You lost the war, Bambi and now you’re all mine. I’ve already thought of what I’m going to do with you.” Oh, right. That happened. “Didn’t you already get what you wanted?” you asked, fighting chills when her breath fanned over your skin with every exhale. It was effortless for her to turn you on, which really wasn’t all that fair. “Like, three times?” Yoonji chuckled short, “You know I’d never let you off that easy.” “You didn’t let me get off, at all,” you grumbled, trying to push her hands away from you, when she pulled you to the wall of her chest. “You’re right, I didn’t and I’ve got news for you, baby. It’s only going to get worse, because I’m not going to fuck you,” she said, as she secured her arms around you more tightly, anticipating your frustration. “Not until I’m sure that you’re desperate for it.” You dared to ask, “Desperate for what, exactly…?” She nuzzled into you with her small nose, teasing the skin at the back of your neck, despite dropping words that were about to make you shudder, “For when I cum inside you.” What? ---------------------------------------------------- The war was ready to come to an end. You were grateful for that fact, having paid dearly along the way, always being reminded of your loss. At first, the thought of Yoonji not touching you was ridiculous. You’d thought that it would be impossible for her to adhere to such rules, but each day she’d proved you wrong, pulling back from your kisses long before they could deepen. You were allowed to get yourself off and you did – countless times, but it wasn’t the same. When would you be deemed as desperate enough? You’d even asked nicely the one day with ice-cream and Netflix prepared, but she’d dismissed you with a single look. Now, you couldn’t dance. Not at all, but that hadn’t stopped you from trying to seduce her, shyly looking away from the heavy scrutiny she’d fixed you with. Perhaps you should have worn something racier than Jimin’s cow onesie? You trailed the zipper down as your hips swayed mostly off rhythm. You hadn’t been wearing a bra beneath it, since the fabric was practically fitted to you anyway. Jimin was less curvy – still curvy, just less. The moment you were about to spread the material apart, she’d quickly grabbed your wrists, stopping you. ‘You really are the cutest, Bambi,’ she’d said, pressing a soft kiss to your nose, successfully deflating you. A few days later she’d finally told you that she ordered a couple things, special toys for your growing collection. The only thing that kept her from destroying you was time. You wondered what else you two could possibly need. Nevertheless, you waited – cursing Sunday when it had rolled around. The tension in your body was steadily building, until you felt as though you would collapse. Literally everything Yoonji did was sexy in some fucked up way or another. It could be something as simple as tying her shoelaces to slurping her ramen. Two packages had arrived the next day. You signed off on them, since Yoonji was busy with putting together a bookshelf, possibly to hold more of your things and not her own. Fixing and building things was something she did often, and was actually quite good at. You held up the boxes, showing them to her. The two were differed greatly in size, one of which had a dragon printed on it. “Your stuff came in,” you said, placing the boxes down on the couch. Holly pawed at the cardboard, confused and intrigued by its existence. “Can I take a shower or do you want my help?” She’d denied you several times already, claiming that the bookshelf was her project. “Go shower, baby,” she said, before stilling in her work, deciding on something. “You should take the smaller package with you and try it on for me.” You picked it up, finding that it was rather light. Perhaps it was clothing? You walked down the hallway and stepped inside the bathroom. Your clothes, along with two fresh towels were placed on the counter earlier. You used a pair of scissors from the sink drawer to cut through the packaging tape, feeling your way past the protective materials, and pulled out a small box. It read: Black Alloy Purple Jeweled Anal Plug? It was about two inches in height and one inch in width, so decently tiny, but you’d never worn a plug. The furthest Yoonji ever went was teasing the pad of her finger against your rim or catching you with her tongue when she sloppily ate you out. You weren’t adverse to the experience, not at all. It was simply just – new. The shower was longer than usual, as you spent a considerable amount of time washing, and rinsing the suds from your body. It’d been a full week, since Yoonji last touched you, which made you feel anxious and self-conscious all over again. You stepped out of the tub and into a towel, patting yourself dry. You skimped on lathering yourself up with lotion, when you’d only end up showering again later. It would have been better if Yoonji had assisted you with this, but there was probably a good reason why she hadn’t. Her lack of patience, her obsession with building that bookshelf, or perhaps her inability to stop once she started? You removed the plug from its plastic and inside the box was a sample packet of lube. It was a generous amount, despite its size, coating the bulbous tip of the toy and around your hole with it. Your fingers were already wet, as you slowly eased one past the tight resistance. You knew then that this was going to take awhile and it did – as you alternated between your pointer and middle fingers, releasing a shallow breath at the odd sensation. With more lube, you were able to push them both in, as you stretched yourself further with each thrust, until you felt ready for more. The cold, smooth feel of the plug made you shudder, as you teased it past your already drenched opening, and felt it catch on your rim. Pressure and warmth filled you up, when you slowly pressed the toy in all the way, the jewel nestled against your hole. You were trembling at the knees, laughing. You were honest to god laughing at how ridiculous the situation was, how such a small thing could completely destroy you. The fact that you were doing this for Yoonji as a punishment had you deliriously turned on. She’d reduced you to this state, leaving you pathetically desperate and needy – all according to her plan. You didn’t bother with getting dressed, settling for the robe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was fluffy and soft on your sensitive skin. Holly was waiting for you when you stepped into the hall, rolling over onto his back for love, which you passed up on – no matter how cute the little devil was, you weren’t about to bend down just yet. The main room was essentially the bedroom, with Yoonji’s bed against the wall with the only window in the room. And on it – sitting pretty and clearly waiting for you, looking almost twice as impatient, was your girlfriend. Judging from the unopened bags of screws and bolts on top of the written instructions, the shelf had been abandoned long ago. Probably the moment you’d turned the shower on. “I wanted to watch,” she admitted, her dark eyes following your every movement, wetting her lips like you were a meal. “The thought of what you were doing nearly drove me mad. I couldn’t even focus on that damn shelf.” You smiled, shyly, as you stepped closer, “What was in the dragon box?” “We’re going to be the proud parents of a baby fire dragon. The egg is under a heating lamp in the kitchen,” she bantered, not skipping a beat. “I’m thinking we can name it Pete, no matter what the gender, and teach our child to roast apples and sweet potatoes. We can live on a farm, sell them locally.” “Oh, yeah? I think Pete is a beautiful name for our fake dragon baby,” you said, bringing your hands to the tops of her shoulders, allowing her to pull you in closer by your hips. You were standing between her thighs, staring down at her, wondering if she could see how badly you needed her. “Bad Dragon is a company that makes very interesting toys,” she explained, while running her hands over the back of your thighs, gripping the flesh there abruptly, before she released you completely. It’d been too close to where you were already so sensitive and full from the plug. Your eyes closed for but a brief moment, trying to pay attention to her words. “There was a rather broad selection. Most of the wearable dildos were made specifically for cum play.” She drew the familiar straps of leather from behind her back, the dildo already secured. It was small in size and silver in color, shimmering with sparkles when she angled it to show you. Yoonji wasn’t into realistic textures, as you’d found out in the past. It didn’t matter to you either way, but the shape of the dildo was unusual – not human. From the base to the tip, its curves and ridges were enticing. “It’s called the Seadragon.” That made more sense to you. She then held up a bottle that contained a milky white substance. Snapping the cap opened, she poured a droplet onto her thumb. “It looks like cum and it’s sticky like it, too.” It was thick and webby when she tapped her pointer finger against it, showing you just how similarly messy it was to the real thing. You’d stayed quiet during her presentation, too hyperaware of how stimulated and sensitive you were to everything – wanting Yoonji to finally take you. Strap up and fuck you before you lose your mind. Her eyes stared up into yours then, her voice filled with heat, “Do you like it, baby? All of these fun things I bought for you?” ‘Baby’… Ugh, yes. You nodded your head in response, not trusting your voice not to sound like nonsense at the moment. “So, how do you wanna do this? You want me to dress up like Lego-ass or how about that weirdly cute bald creature who was obsessed with Frito’s magic cockring?” Gollum. Once this was all over, you were going to sit her ass down to watch the franchise from the beginning, starting with the Hobbit. You untied the front of the robe you’d borrowed and let it fall to the floor, tossing aside your previous apprehension, as you climbed onto the bed, ignoring the pressure below your tailbone. You were flat on your stomach, grabbing onto the cookie-shaped plush with the odd eyebrows. You looked over at her with all the adoration that you could muster, giving her your best look of faux-innocence, despite what was soon to come, “I wanna get fucked...” That was how Yoonji wanted this to go, right? The way her fingers curled into the sheets, almost in warning, made you continue. You bit at the side of your lip, teasingly, “I don’t want you to stop, until you’ve filled me with every last drop of your cum.” That was enough. She sighed out heavily, as though that single breath was the only thing keeping her anchored to all manners of self-control. Now it was gone. Yoonji stood up from the bed, arms crossing at her sides to pull her shirt off. Her breasts were so small that she didn’t bother with wearing a bra. Today was one of those days. You drank in the routine without shame, convinced that you’d never get sick of watching her get undressed. She discarded her panties from off the tip of her toe. “You have no idea how difficult it’s been trying to keep my hands to myself,” she said, her voice an octave away from growling. “That ridiculous dance you did the other day, even though we both know you can’t dance for shit, somehow got me wet after I’d just fucked myself in the shower.” The black leather straps cut into her pale skin, as she fastened it tightly around her slim hips. Moving out of your line of sight, she’d straddled your legs. You kicked them up, lightly knocking into her a few times, until she caught you by the ankles. Yoonji didn’t even have to verbalize for you to stop, for you to cease movement entirely. The Shooky plush in your arms had done little to prepare you for when her palms bit into your skin, the sound of impact startlingly pleasing to the both of you. Warmth radiated over your skin when she repeated the action, spanking you again. “A-Ah, Yoonji…” “I could do this all day,” she said, possessively grabbing at your ass cheeks on the third sting of her hands, spreading you wide until her eyes fell to the purple jewel against your rim – the area around it was pink, and wet still. “It looks sore, baby. Did you take your time prepping yourself? You’re practically dripping right here.” Beneath the plug, your entrance was glistening with arousal, walls clenching from just the light touch of air – at the fact that she was fixated on your most intimate places. Another firm slap made you jolt forward, even though there was no place to escape to. “Raise your hips.” She’d made enough room for you to do just that, but was unwilling to stop touching you. Black painted nails skimmed over your skin, pressing in hard until pink lines followed her every stroke up and down your sides and down the back of your legs. The bite of her nails was enough to make you beg, “Yoonji, fuck me, before I fuck myself.” “That’s not how this works, Bambi. You’re going to be patient for me,” she mused, her hand skimming down the cleft of your ass, taking the jewel between two of her fingers – watching the way your rim stretched when she’d begun pulling it out slowly. “…while I take my time introducing you to a new type of play. I’m gonna make you love it.” You felt so empty once the toy was removed, the heat you felt there gone when she leaned forward and dragged her tongue over your hole. You cried out, digging your nails into plush, “Oh, Yoonji, please…” No amount of begging was going to make her be more merciful towards you. You’d learned that lesson the hard way. Instead, she pressed the small tip of the plug back inside you, watching how well you swallowed it up, before thrusting the point of her tongue into you – wet and soft, determined to prod you as deeply as the alloy had done. She poured the milky lube over your rim, using the plug to catch it before it could ooze out, and pushed the toy back inside of you. She cursed low, “Fuck. I wish you could see yourself…” You whimpered when she started fucking you slow with it. The lube on your skin was a lot like cum, which only added to the appeal as she kept murmuring vulgarities about how good your pussy would look stuffed with it. The filthy sounds of each intrusion would have killed you, if you weren’t already dead. “It has no flavor, which is good…means it won’t muddle how you taste,” she said, teasing her tongue around the jewel, as she started tapping two of her fingers against it. Fuck. You could cry, it felt so good, but you needed to be touched where you ached the most, deeper – you needed more, but she kept avoiding the rest of your body. Bringing a hand between your thighs, you started rubbing over your clit in a familiar routine. You felt struck by the pleasure washing over you then. The extra stimulation felt so good, you could barely keep your eyes opened, snuggling further into the plush. Relief was within your grasp, soft sighs and moans flooding the suddenly quiet room. You hadn’t even noticed that Yoonji stopped what she was doing, until the slap came – the sound of it worse than the sting, when her palm met the tender flesh of your bottom. You’d already been sore from when she’d spanked you earlier. Each breath you took was shaky and uneven. Not bothering with apologies, you slowly withdrew your hand. “Not fast enough for you?” she asked, as she forcibly turned you onto your back. The sheets felt rough against your sensitive skin. The pain was a welcomed pleasure that you’d never had to openly clarify in order for her to understand. Getting Yoonji angry like this was a benefit for you. It was how you’d gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. She parted your thighs with the strength of her own and leaned so that her face was close to yours, her breath reaching your skin, “How’s this, then? You said you wanted to get fucked.” “I’m glad you finally heard me,” you breathed, sighing at how the heat and weight of her body felt so, so good, keeping you pinned to the mattress. She smirked audibly at your rebuttal. The sound was enough to send a chill down your spine, as she guided the dildo up and down between your slick folds, steadily driving you mad. A press of Yoonji’s finger forced some of the thick lube to spill out of the tip, as she continued coating you with every stroke. Punishment in its rawest form was Yoonji’s outright rejection, even though she was about to fuck you senselessly, thus giving you what you wanted, but she wouldn’t kiss you. She wouldn’t place her pretty kitten mouth where you needed it to be – on purpose. So, it would still be a win and loss, despite this entire evening being about you and your pleasure, and your new experience. She brought the curved head of the toy to your entrance and halted, allowing you to feel her there with a hand placed on your hip, holding you still. “You might be too small, baby,” she breathed, the tip of the dildo already stretching you so wide, despite how petite it was, she’d never given you more than you could withstand – her dark eyes flickering from where your bodies were connected to the furrowed expression on your face, as she started pushing into you slowly. Her hips didn’t let up, until you were filled to the brim. The added pressure against the plug inside of you was intense and made you feel deliciously full in both holes. “Fuck, Bambi…” she hissed out, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. “You always look so fucking good when you’re under me, eager to take whatever I give you, so greedy and willing to be wrecked by me.” She emphasized each word with a hard slam of her hips, making you cry out each time. “You always. Want. More.” The flat base of the dildo pressed more firmly against her swollen clit the deeper she pounded into you. Yoonji was meticulous in the way she paid close attention to how close you were by going off of the sounds you were making. She could read you very easily, familiar with all your obvious tells. The way your eyes fluttered shut, mouth parted – how soft sighs had turned into sobs. You were lost in the pleasure licking its way up your thighs, as you cupped your own breasts. She licked her lips at the action, digging her nails into the back of your legs, bending them far enough to capture a nipple into the wet heat of her mouth, sucking down hard enough to make you arch your back against it. You pulled her face to the side of your neck, gasping when you felt her teeth graze sharply over your skin. The new angle allowed her to thrust in deeper and more controlled. You were nearly there, muscles clenching tightly around both toys. “I-I’m so close,” you gasped, arms going around her neck to hold on. You fought your eyes to stay focused on the dark intensity of Yoonji’s half-lidded stare and physically trembled. Why must she be like this? She finally brushed her lips over yours, her voice broken. “I’m gonna cum.” The words were all for show, but you appreciated it. You careened in bliss and were held closely when your orgasm tore throughout your body – coupled by the liquid heat that had started to fill you. Yoonji’s cum gushing out of you as she slowed her hips, easing you through it. She drew back far enough so that she could look, the leather of the straps, and her lower stomach painted in the creamy lubricant. Each time she rocked forward, more of it came out from around the dildo that was still buried deep inside you. From the way she marveled at the mess, it was obvious that she’d found a new kink. Yoonji pulled out and watched as your raw pink walls clenched and unclenched, pushing more of the mingled release out. “That’s so fucking…” was all she managed to get out, before her fingers went to work on the straps around her hips, until it was dangling from off of one leg, quick to expose herself. She grabbed hold of your leg and brought it to the top of her shoulder in a way that was familiar to you. This was how she typically enjoyed fucking you. And Christ. You were still so sensitive. You turned slightly, so that she could fit better against you. It was then that you realized that your ass was completely covered in the thick lubricant. You could feel it as the air swept over your skin. Yoonji ran her fingers over the sticky liquid, gathering it up with her fingers, before rubbing it around the plug. The fuck… Just as she’d brought her hips forward into yours, she slid the bulb from your tender hole, and slammed it back in. Oh, fuck… Perhaps even you’d found a new a kink. She held onto your thigh, using it as leverage to firmly grind her clit against yours, the friction acute and perfect. Yoonji lolled her head to the side, somewhat lost in watching you from between sharp strands of silver hair. Each roll of her hips was aided by the fact that you were already so wet and slippery. The loud smack of skin meeting skin was absurd, as she continued riding you into the bed – all the while, driving the plug into you at the same quickening speed as her hips, reaching towards oblivion for the both of you. You curled your fingers in the sheets, throwing your head back as the pleasure coiled tightly in the pit of your stomach, threatening to come undone for the second time. Yoonji practically growled the moment she’d come, gasping your name over and over again breathlessly. It didn’t take much more after that, when a few more thrusts sent you over the edge, meeting her hips throughout the waves of pleasure claiming your body. For awhile you stayed like that, catching your breath and staring back at one another like you’d just been taken apart, and were now gradually being pieced back together again. This was the aftermath. She pressed a lingering kiss against the leg that she was holding, before placing it back down gently. Next she removed the plug, the oddly satisfying pressure gone. Min Yoonji was the type to be perfectly fine with cuddling you while covered in sweat and cum. However, you weren’t about that life. “We need to clean up,” you rasped, clearing your throat – you’d screamed so much. She’d snickered like she was proud of it, trying to act nonchalant about stifling the sound. You continued, “Us and the toys, so we can put them away, before Holly gets curious...” She complied once the logic had sunk in, but at a snail’s pace, picking everything up, and bringing it all into the bathroom. You treaded behind her softly, turning the showerhead on and tried getting it to the right temperature. She liked it to be scorching hot, the steam soon flooding the bathroom. You turned to tell her that it was ready and found that she was staring directly at you, giving you that look. The same kind of look that predators tended to give their prey just seconds before they pounced, and devoured them. Shaking your head at her, because no, no – you stepped under the spray. You sighed as you felt the tension leaving your muscles, eyes closing as you stood there allowing the water to hit your back. You hadn’t noticed that Yoonji had joined you, until you were being pressed against the cool tiles. Her hand kept you still, as the water soaked through her hair. It was her turn apparently. She nodded to you, “How was it?” You knew what she was referring to, as this was the first moment you both had to address it. How did you like anal play? How did you like being filled up with fake cum? Honestly. “I really liked it,” you confessed somewhat hushed, despite how it was amplified due to the cramped space. The moment she moved closer, you settled more against the tiles, knowing that this exchange would not be short. You laughed, weakly, “I’m so tired, Yoonji.” “Yeah, that’s nice, but I’m not really sure how to keep my hands off of you when you’re right here, all naked and wet, and open to anal play.” You wanted to argue that she’d been turned on prior to that fact. All you needed was to be in the same room as her and Yoonji was ready to have you again…and again. There was no control. You brought your head to her shoulder, perving in on her small breasts. She’d only come once, after waiting for as long as you had. Truthfully, you wouldn’t have been satisfied with just one, either. You suddenly clamped your fingers down on one of her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lungs. You weren’t very good at this, which was probably why she allowed you to reverse the positions without much apprehension. Her back bounced slightly from the impact of meeting the wall and for a second you feared for your life, when she chuckled low, crooking a finger to call you forward. In a minute. You reached up, which was ridiculous given your height, and grabbed the detachable showerhead. You turned the dial onto a more powerful setting, to where the hot water jutted out rather sharply, and you watched as she jumped when you sprayed her on the leg. “What the fuck!” she gasped, feeling the water slowly trailing upwards. “Stay still,” you said, somewhat warily, knowing that if she had it her way, you’d be filled up all over again. Besides, there was no reason to trust her, even as she nodded her head in compliance. Not even a moment later, Yoonji had already betrayed you, pulling you into a kiss that consisted of teeth and tongue. This girl…You groaned into her, turning the spray in your hand and pressed it between her thighs, letting the water hit her directly. You didn’t allow her to pull away for air, holding onto the side of her face. More sensitive when wet, you dragged her bottom lip into your mouth, tugging hard on it, until she winced. You moved the spray back and forth, when she took hold of your wrist, keeping you still – her breathing becoming harsher, her sounds more desperate. You wanted to hear her better, as you willed yourself to part with her soft lips. You caught droplets of water in their travel with your tongue, drawing hard circles into the side of her neck. “Ah, Bambi, fuck…” she moaned, sliding her slim fingers through your hair, keeping your teeth against her skin. “That feels so good. I want you to mark me…” What an odd request from Yoonji. You sucked bruises along her collarbone, painting her skin in colors of red and purple – the contrast so starkly noticeable given her skin tone. They wouldn’t be there for as long as the ones she’d left on you, but it was still satisfying. You continued down lower to her tiny breasts, your mouth big enough to cover one side completely, before going to the other – taking turns swirling your tongue around her sensitive nipples, each flick causing her hips to stutter. “I’m gonna come,” she breathed, rolling her hips against the turret of water. The hand in your hair pulled you back up to her mouth, kissing you firmly the moment she released, trembling in your arms. You immediately dropped the spray, replacing it with your thumb, so that you could rub her through it, aware of how sensitive she must be, and would need something much softer. Slow, needy kisses, as she licked into your mouth, thanking you without having to say it. Her touches burned your skin, as she dug her nails in. This too, was a new experience for you both. She was vulnerable to you, which was something you cherished. Yoonji wasn’t perfect. You knew that from the beginning, but you’d like understand her insecurities. You wanted to help her put them away the same way she tried helping you with yours. That was love to you. After rinsing off in the then lukewarm water, you put on one of her large shirts, and a pair of panties from your designated drawer that was part of her dresser. She was in a pair of shorts and a tank top, pulling at the dirty sheets, and spreading out her Lord Nermal set. You helped her remake the bed, before climbing into it. Holly jumped up, already familiar with the routine, and settled just below your toes. “Traitor,” Yoonji pouted at her dog, as she plugged in her phone to start browsing Reddit. You curled towards her, placing Shooky down into her lap, so that you had a semi-comfortable pillow. Her fingers were in your hair, lazily stroking through the strands, as she read over articles, “Wait, wait, listen to this one. ‘My girlfriend is obsessed with brand name clothing and accessories. Is there any way to make her happy without throwing down my soul? Why isn’t my dick enough for her?’ Maybe Hoseok wrote this article.” You laughed, sleepily, “That sounds like him. We should invite them over this Friday. I want to watch the Hobbit, so that you could actually know who you’re role-playing next time.” “I’ll probably hate it. The movie, the company, but yeah,” she said, moving her fingertips to the side of your neck, trailing softly. “Sounds good.” “We should invite Jimin, too.” “Seems reasonable.” “She’ll probably want her boyfriend there –” Her hand twitched upon your skin, pausing, “That isn’t gonna happen.” “You need to get over Jeon Jeongguk.” “We’re both nice and showered. So, let’s not rile me up,” she said, sparing you a glance away from her phone. That was what you lived for, though. Which was why tomorrow, you were going to send out a group text, ‘accidentally’ hitting the ‘JK’ contact on your phone. “I can practically see the fucking cogwheels turning in your head,” Yoonji accused, lightly nudging your head with her thigh. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, know that I’m capable of much worse.” It wasn’t much of a threat. It was more like, the promise of fucking you just how you wanted it. “I’m offended, to be honest,” you said, removing the plush from her lap, and throwing yourself down dramatically onto your side of the bed. “I love you, even though you lied about there being a fire dragon baby in the kitchen. I had checked and everything. My dreams of becoming cartoon Maleficent are crushed now.” She placed her phone on the nightstand, before turning the light off. “That’s what I’m here for, to crush your fucking dreams. I love you, too, baby.” Yoonji kept to herself when she slept, prone to one position and staying there throughout the entire night. However, you’d gotten so used to sleeping beside her that you were comfortable with doing more – anxiety no longer present when lying down with her. In the dark, the silence was too loud for you to fall asleep. You instinctively moved closer – just close enough to feel the warmth of her skin radiating against your own. You leaned your face up towards her, searching for that good night kiss. Despite not being able to see anything, you certainly heard her smirk, when she closed the distance, and kissed you softly. “Good night, Yoonji.” “Mmph…” ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Fin~

[batneko]

Wingman

In which King is a good bro, Reigen is trying his best, and it’s too damn early for Saitama to know what’s going on. Original idea from @animalswithfancyhats

Saitama/Reigen, G, 2224 words

(Genos exists in this incarnation but his affection for Saitama is purely platonic admiration)

Saitama was picking at his ear for the third time in ten minutes. The shell of it had turned an uncomfortable shade of red. Either there was something stuck in there, or the crowd was making him nervous (and King suspected he was projecting there), so King grabbed his elbow.

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“Just stop.”

Saitama shrugged, eyes skimming across the crowd. He didn't bother covering up his yawn.

It was all people their own age or older, for once. Often when King lined up early for things he was the only person over 20. This time he was one of the younger ones. The man in front of them was even dressed in a business suit, like he was heading to the office as soon as he was done here.

“What are we doing again?” Saitama asked. King didn't sigh, but only because he hadn't really expected him to remember.

“Buying a toy.”

“Oh. Wait, why am I here?”

King glanced around and lowered his voice. “Security.”

“You think it'll get rowdy?”

“I know it will.”

It was a couple years since he'd gone to a Christmas sale. Parents were, in King's experience, the single most vicious shoppers in the world. Even idol otaku had the decency not to snatch products from someone else's hands.

Saitama's hand was creeping up to his ear again, so King slapped it. “Ow. Okay so what's so special about this toy?”

“It's the first one of Purple Poodle.”

Saitama's eyes scrunched up in confusion. This time King did sigh.

“Remember when I made you watch Zoo-Men?”

“Oh yeah. That was all right.”

“That was the original. Still a classic, but they rebooted it and the new one is really good.”

“Okay.”

“The plot is that the princess got kidnapped by monsters, and the Zoo-Men are a strike team pulled together from different expertises to find her.”

“Okay...”

“And in this world, about one in a hundred people are born with special powers. The princess was born with a really strong destructive power.”

“So that's why she got kidnapped, right?”

He was actually listening. “That's right. The monsters want to make her into a weapon. But Princess Poodle has been scared of her power all her life, she refuses to use it at all.”

“Yikes.”

“So that's the set-up of the series. The princess is captured, and the bad guys won't really hurt her because they need her, and the heroes are trying to find her by tracking down monsters who might have clues. None of the viewers expected that stuff to change.”

“But it did?”

“It did!” King realized he'd gotten too excited, and quickly dropped his voice. “In the midseason finale, the Zoo-Men found out where she was. And at the same time, the princess got tired of being kept prisoner. There was some stuff with one of her captors kinda befriending her, but the point is, she used her powers to completely wreck the place.”

Saitama snorted. “Nice.”

“But the Zoo-Men were there, and when she discovered her friends might get hurt, she finally manged to control her power for the first time, saved everybody, and became Purple Poodle: the sixth Zoo-Men.”

“Oh!”

It wasn't Saitama. The exclamation had come from the man in front of them, the one in the suit, and he turned around.

“Sorry, didn't mean to eavesdrop, it's just...” He was around King's age, handsome, though sweating in the heat of the packed queue. “Uh, I didn't know why my kid liked this character so much. He was all excited last week and he keeps doodling her. Now I get it.” He put his fingers to his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder if he knows that's why.”

Saitama pointed at a poster. “Is that her?”

“The purple one in the poodle mask?” King asked dryly.

“Yeah.”

“Yes, that's her.”

Saitama nodded to himself. “Okay.”

It was getting close to the store opening. Though the Purple Poodle action figure was one of the big-ticket items, there were several new things dropping this week, and the store was having a sale on electronics. Even with Saitama as a bodyguard King had a perfectly reasonable fear of getting trampled.

"That's all you want?" Saitama asked. There was a tone to his voice that King wished he hadn't gotten so familiar with. Battle mode. "That one toy, right?"

"Yes." The store had a good selection, but it wasn't like he'd have time to browse today.

"Okay." Saitama popped his knuckles, and the store opened.

It was madness. King was a big guy, but he'd never been coordinated, the crowd swept him along with barely any movement of his feet. Once inside the store it only got worse, now panic sent things into a fever pitch, there were raised voices and shoving hands and nudging elbows. A loud smack rang through the air, and that seemed to signal the end of even feigning civility. Apparently only King was tall enough to see it was just a flat box hitting the floor. More likely it just didn't matter.

King kept shoving his way through the crowd. He nearly lost his balance several times, but the store was packed too tight for him to fall. Still, he wasn't making much progress until he felt a firm hand on his wrist and heard Saitama say, "Gotcha."

Saitama moved like a shark through the masses. Finding every gap, every safe foothold. King was merely dragged along, kept by his side by his unbreakable hold. He was pretty sure he stepped on some toes but he couldn't even say sorry before he was whisked away.

Finally they reached the display of action figures. It was already half empty, and Saitama ducked under the scrabbling arms to grab one from the bottom of the rack. He started to hand it to King, but someone took hold of the box and tried to rip it from his hand.

"Hey, what the hell?" Saitama pulled it back without effort, and clutched the toy to his chest. "Okay I guess I'm holding onto this. Where's the checkout?"

"Over there," King pointed past a fistfight with his free hand.

"Let's go."

They resumed their journey. Once they were away from the displays at the front, the crowd thinned out. A few people, cradling toys like they were precious treasure, rushed past them but King wasn't in a hurry. As long as he got to buy what he wanted he didn't mind waiting in another line.

"Well that was bonkers," Saitama said cheerfully as they joined the end. It was moving quickly, most people in line this early only buying one or two things. There would be others who were loading up on the sale items, but they'd missed that wave. "Is it safe to give this to you now?"

They were securely between two racks of candy and magazines. "I think so." King took the toy, hugging it to his chest the way Saitama had. With his long arms it was unlikely anyone would try to snatch it away; they would never guess he had the grip strength of a toddler.

Saitama, bored now that his job was done, scanned the magazine covers. It was mostly cooking and parenting stuff, but he started to reach for one about crock pot meals when he froze.

Already on edge, King looked around for the source of the danger. "What is it?"

There was shouting coming from the front section, where all the hot-ticket items had been. King heard one voice, near panic, exclaim, "Come on, don't do this! You're not animals!" And then a pained yelp.

"Be right back," Saitama said, and then he was gone, sending the pages of the magazines fluttering.

King watched him for a second, a blue blur from his track jacket, but the line was moving and he didn't want to hold anyone up.

It was hardly more than a second before Saitama was back. King had to hold back a laugh; he was actually carrying that salaryman from earlier in his arms, like a bride or a rescued princess. The guy was flushed and sweating as Saitama set him down at the end of the line.

There was only a couple of people between them, so King easily heard the guy say, "Thank you!"

"No prob," Saitama said.

"I think you might have actually saved my life. Or at least my suit." He patted the jacket back into some kind of order. "Too bad about the doll, but-"

"Right here," Saitama held it out, and the guy took it with wide eyes.

"Thank you. So much. I... I..."

"Dont worry about it," Saitama said. He returned to King's side, despite the dirty looks of the others waiting.

"That was nice of you," King said. He stepped up to the register, finally.

"Last one," Saitama explained. "I thought, I dunno, that guy said his kid really liked her, so..."

King finished his purchase, the poor cashier looking shellshocked even after only ten minutes of this. He tied the handles of the bag around his wrist, just in case, and they made their way to the exit.

Once outside - and a safe distance away from the doors - King took the toy out of the bag to admire it. This one wouldn't be kept mint-in-box, the box was already crumpled and scraped for one thing, but he took in the art on the cardboard and the details of the figure with the exhausted sense of pride he got when he had to fight for something.

"Thanks Saitama. I owe you one."

"Yeah yeah." Saitama shrugged. "I wasn't doing anything."

Someone cleared their throat. King wasn't surprised to see the suit guy, but Saitama blinked at him in confusion. "Excuse me, I just wanted to say thanks again."

"Dudes. Come on, it's not a big deal."

"Still though, I uh... Can I repay you?"

"For keeping you from getting squished? I was just doing what anyone would do. I hope your kid likes that toy."

"He's not mine," the guy blurted. "I mean, he is, but he's not- I'm not married." His face abruptly turned bright red, and King saw the familiar expression of someone who regretted their entire life up to this point.

Ah. Maybe King could pay Saitama back for his help right now.

"Saitama's a hero," King said.

"Yeah," the suit guy agreed.

"Don't say it like that," Saitama protested. "He means professionally. I work for the Hero Association."

"He doesn't get enough credit," King said. "He saves people all the time like it's nothing."

"Come on..." Saitama rubbed his neck, embarrassed. At least he had forgotten about his ear.

"Oh!" Suit guy stepped in closer. "Saitama-san, my name's Reigen. Reigen Arataka."

"Nice to meet you," Saitama said mildly. "But it's early, I really want a real breakfast before getting stuck in conversation."

Was he doing this on purpose? He couldn't have made it easier for King if he tried. "Are you on your way to work, Reigen-san? Do you have some free time?"

"I've got time!" Reigen agreed eagerly. "Let me take you out for breakfast. Both of you."

"You don't have to-"

King clapped Saitama on the shoulder. "That would be great! So nice of you to offer. Right, Saitama?"

"I mean yeah, it's nice of you, but-"

"I know a good place nearby," Reigen said. "I go there for lunch a lot, I'm sure the breakfast is good too."

"Well..." Saitama's stomach rumbled. "I guess. Sure, thanks."

"Great!" Reigen grinned. "It's just over this way, down the block a little." He looked up a King. "Sorry, what was your name?"

"King," King said, and brought a palm to his forehead. "Dang, you know, I completely forgot. I have a raid I promised to do. I've got to head straight home."

Reigen met his eyes, and King nodded slightly. Neither of them listened to Saitama's protests as Reigen mouthed, thank you.

"So you guys have fun," King continued. He patted Saitama on the shoulder again. "You'll have to tell me how the restaurant is, Saitama, in case I'm around here shopping again."

"Yeah okay, I can do that," Saitama agreed. He seemed confused, but when he looked at Reigen and his sparkling grin, his face lightened and he gave a little smile in return. "Okay, shall we?"

"Definitely!"

They both gave King a wave as they headed off. Once Saitama was facing forward Reigen put his hands together in a mock-bow of thanks, and King flashed him a thumbs-up. Being a wingman was easy. It probably helped that Saitama was so oblivious to people appreciating him.

King tucked his toy under his arm and pulled his hat lower over his face. He was looking forward to getting home and finishing his Zoo-Men display. Maybe he'd rewatch the latest episode, the Christmas special. Purple Poodle had been so cute and endearing as she tried to fit into the team.

One point in this Reigen guy's favor, he and his kid both had good taste. Hopefully Saitama managed to figure out he had an opportunity in front of him without King there to steer things.