#apparently drunk me just talks like it's the 1900s naturally

[freckleslikestars]

we can’t be together but let’s make the most of the night before we have to go our separate ways, maybe watch the stars as we talk about how we would have gotten married, how many kids we would have had, if the odds had been in our favor

For the angsty prompts again, but for Lily and Selden maybe 👉👈🥺

I absolutely love you for this prompt! I've been wanting to write something set around the Monte Carlo time for so long, but couldn't figure out what. And now, I have done it!

Also I am kind of slightly just a little bit tipsy so...😬

The other prompt you sent I have started, I just need to figure out where I am going with it.

Under the Stars

1300 words, Read here at AO3

‘I cannot turn up on their doorstep this late; Gwen would send news to Aunt Julia, and then it would not only be in Monte Carlo that I have no place to sleep. It is best everyone believe I resided in a hotel for the night,’ her voice was choked, cracking under the weight of her burden, ‘else...else I will be so far into disrepute that any prospects I do still cling onto are sure to be lost, and I cannot afford for that to happen.’

‘Then what will you do?’ he studied her as she put on a brave face, the subtle trembling of her body that betrayed her fear. Taking her arm in his own he guided her from the dining room, heart aching every time her step faltered.

‘I am sure I can find a secluded bench on which to sleep. The night is mild enough.’

‘No. Lily, I cannot allow this.’

She looked up at him, mask slipping, her face dissolving into a hopelessness that consumed her and threatened to drag him down with it, ‘what else would you have me do, Dear Lawrence?’

‘I...I...’ he searched desperately around him as if the answer would appear from thin air, ‘stay with me, Miss Bart. In my hotel room.’

‘I cannot, and you know it,’ she murmured, her mind already imagining it, the warmth of his body pressed into her side. She leant in closer to him, far closer than was appropriate, in an attempt to simulate the safety and comfort she imagined him giving her.

‘I am not propositioning you, Lily. It would be safer and spark far fewer rumours for me to sleep outside than for you. I will pass it off as having been to a casino after I walked you to your cab, and then having drunk too much.’

She looked up at him, aghast, ‘no. No, I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me.’

At an impasse, they continued on into the night, walking past bench after bench, Lily keeping a keen eye out for the most ideal for her to make camp on for the night. Finally they drew up to one secluded enough that she felt comfortable nobody would recognise her, whilst in the open enough that she perceived nobody would hurt her. Putting on the most cheerful voice she could muster, she untethered herself from her companion and sat, patting the bench and saying ‘yes, yes I think this will do quite well.’

‘Miss Bart, I must insist-‘

‘Stop, Lawrence. This is my only viable option. Now, if you will excuse me- what do you think you are doing?’

‘Sitting. That is, of course, what benches are for,’ he murmured, closing the gap between them again as he joined her, ‘and I will not let you stay out here alone.’

‘Very well,’ she muttered, trying not to sound as relieved as she was that he wasn’t abandoning her completely. She said no more, knowing if she did she might cry from how terrible it all was, and instead looked up to the stars. They shone so clearly in the dark blanket of night, and she felt she might float up into them, if only life amongst the stars was as peaceful as their steady twinkling promised.

‘I wish I could take you away from it all,’ Lawrence whispered, so quiet that she doubted for a moment he had said anything at all. ‘I wish you didn’t have to lead such a life.’

‘What a fruitless wish that is,’ she sighed. ‘I too wish it, though, despite knowing it can never happen.’

‘I’d marry you in a heartbeat if I knew it was what you wanted. If I knew I could make you happy I’d take you to the courthouse tomorrow. Or today, as it is now, I guess. I know I can never offer you enough, but we’d have a comfortable life. You would be safe and warm and would never go wanting.’

She was biting back tears, desperate for him not to see how much she yearned for such an impossibility of a future. For the life of her she could not remember why she resisted this man so, only that she must. She trembled and whether he took it as her being cold or not, he wrapped an arm around her, pulled her to him as if she were. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking out to the night sky with him, ‘tell me about our life together.’

‘We’d have a little house, out in the country. I’d move my practice to the outskirts of the city so I could commute more easily, and still be home in time for tea. I could never promise you a big house, but it would be enough, with bedrooms for the children, and perhaps a guestroom for visitors.’

‘Children?’

‘Mmhm. Two. Maybe three. You’d be hesitant of the idea at first, worry constantly when we discovered you were pregnant, because you fear change. But I would hold you and tell you how beautiful you were, and promise you that when we had our beautiful little baby to hold you would love them as much as I love you,’ his shoulder was wet from her tears, his own cheeks glistening too. ‘We’d have a little girl, first, I reckon. God, Lily, she’d be so beautiful. She’d have your eyes, and your nose, and such curly red hair. You’d never mistake her for anyone’s child but your own,’ his voice broke and he grit his teeth together to stifle a sob.

‘Go on.’

‘She’d be so soulful, Lily. So serious, but when she laughs, oh it would be the most wondrous sound. And then we’d give her a little brother. And he would grow up to be her protector, despite being younger. And we would teach them all about love, Lily. We’d show them the world, and we’d love them so, so much.’

‘You said three children. Tell me about the third?’

He chuckled through his tears, nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead, ‘our third would be a surprise. She’d be a few years younger than her siblings, and she’d be an angel. She’d be quick to laugh and quick to love.’

‘A dog. We should have a dog, too. I always wanted a dog.’

‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘we’d have a dog. Something big, to chase around the garden with the children, that will sleep in front of the fire in the winter, and protect you should I ever have to stay in town. Of course, you wanted a smaller dog at first, but this dog, the dog we have, you found as a puppy. He was the pup of the grounds keeper’s dog, the runt of the litter. Far more hassle than he was worth. But you were walking one day and ran into them, fell in love.’

She was quiet for a while before she murmured ‘if we were not us, Lawrence, it would be the most perfect life.’

‘But we are us.’

‘And we could never work.’

‘No,’ he lied, lapsing into silence as she settled further into his side, ‘if only the fates had aligned.’

She hummed sleepily, her hand finding his, twining their fingers together.

They sat, in the quiet of the night, each absorbed in their own fantasies, until he gazed up once more at the star-studded sky, ‘look, Lily. A falling star. You must make a wish.’ But when she didn’t respond he looked down to find her fast asleep on his shoulder and smiled sadly. He made a wish instead, not taking his eyes off her tear-stained face in the moonlight as he did so.

He stayed with her through the dark of night, keeping vigil and watching as the sky changed into the greying light of dawn until the first of the city woke up for their day.

#my writing #apparently drunk me just talks like it's the 1900s naturally #no joke I used to speak perfect queens english no contractions no slang nothing #because autistic #it was just one of the things I used to do. #and then I got bullied so much for it that I retaught myself how to speak like 'normal' people #but until like 2019 all of my writing was like that too #so no inflections or anything #I look back at it now and I'm just like...I can see why I did it but still #apparently drunk me just goes back to talking like that #yknow that bit in Miranda where when shes drunk she talks and acts like the queen? yeah same #house of mirth #lily bart #lawrence seldon #I grew up with a guy called Lawrence and every time I write HoM fic where Lily's moaning his name or something it pulls me right out of it #because I remeber this guy I grew up with who my friend still has a thing for #he was a pretty chill guy #but like with everyone else I grew up with the idea of him in any other light than the kid who licked a rock in year 4 #because we were learning about geology #is just weird #like he's probably a great guy and his partners real lucky probably but I just...ew #anyway #HoM #edith wharton #uhhh how else do I tag these things? #tumblr promps #brynstein #house of mirth fic #fanfic

[argylemnwrites]

Looking Back

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield)

Book: Open Heart (almost 2 years after Chapter 1 of book 2)

Word Count: ~1900

Rating: PG-13 (light language, innuendo)

Summary: A night of celebration causes Cassie and Bryce to take a look back.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I wrote Bryce fic! The pandemic writer’s block was particularly brutal for this couple, but I am pretty happy to be back with our favorite flirty, confident surgeon! This story is for two of the “Things You Said” prompts - 11. Things you said when you were drunk (as requested by @sunnyxdazed, @choicesarehard, and an anon) and 22. Things you said after it was over (as requested by @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl and @omgjasminesimone). It also works for the Choices May Challenge Day 29 prompt (Memories).

“Nah, I’m good,” Bryce said, shaking his head as Jackie attempted to pass him a shot of tequila.

“Lahela, you can’t pass on drinks tonight! We’re celebrating!” she called out, raising her arm and drawing cheers from several others around them, including Cassie.

“You might be celebrating, but I still have to preround at 6 am tomorrow,” Bryce replied, shaking his head as Cassie grabbed the shot glass Jackie kept trying to hand him, throwing it back in rapid succession with the shot Jackie had already given her. Man, tonight was going to get sloppy.

“That’s on you for choosing a specialty with such a long residency,” said Jackie, quirking an eyebrow before downing her own shot. “It’s not our fault you surgeons are so dumb and cocky that you need those extra years of training just to be competent physicians.”

Bryce grinned at her, grabbing the empty shot glasses Cassie handed to him as she reached for a lime. He would let her have that one tonight. After all, it was her graduation night. 

The internal med graduation had been pretty much what Bryce had expected. Decent food, but watered down drinks and boring speeches by the hospital bigwigs, all culminating with the program director going over each resident’s career plans and handing them a certificate. At least Cassie’s table had been a good one with Elijah, Phoebe, and his parents, a med-peds resident named Amber who Bryce didn’t know well but who had been fun to talk to, as was her husband when he wasn’t trying to corral their two year old son, plus Cassie’s parents and Keiki, able to come thanks to Amber only needing two tickets. And thankfully the faculty member assigned to their table was an endocrinologist named Dr. Liz Aubly, not Ethan Ramsey. Bryce had forced more than enough awkward small talk with the man at the monthly diagnostics team dinner he’d gone to with Cassie last week, and he got the feeling Ramsey was not thrilled that he was now officially Cassie’s date for all such events. Over the next two years, with Bryce on his research years while Cassie remained at Edenbrook for her diagnostics fellowship, their paths were going to cross often.

But tonight wasn’t about looking forward, it was about looking back and remembering three years of patients and long hours and crappy coffee and not enough sleep. Now that the formal portion of the graduation was done with, most of the third year IM residents had ditched their families and taken over Donahue’s, celebrating having only two weeks left as residents. It was the only time they all were off at the same time, excluding the annual resident holiday party, since starting residency, and people were letting loose.

“Wait, we didn’t toast to anything with this round,” Elijah noted after he tossed his lime slice onto the growing pile in the middle of the table. After the first couple of rounds, things had turned decidedly sentimental, with the group rotating what event from their three years of residency they were commemorating. So far, they had toasted to adopting their pet turtle Sal Monella, Jackie being named one of next year’s chief residents, Cassie getting reinstated, and swapping out Landry for Aurora as a roommate. 

“You’re right!” Cassie cried out, stumbling off Bryce’s lap. “I’ll go get us another round so we can do things properly.”

Bryce grabbed her wrist, stopping her abruptly. “What?” she asked, her eyes blazing as they locked on his, clearly ready to fight him if he dared to question how much everyone was drinking.

“I’m going with you,” he said with a grin, standing up and subtly sliding his hand down her back, hoping she saw it as a loving, flirty gesture and not an attempt to steady her and keep her upright. Cassie was typically a pretty agreeable drunk, if a little handsy, but she got absolutely livid if anyone implied that her coordination and proprioception were at all impaired by her drinking. He had enough sense not to tell her there was a good chance all the drinks would be ending up on the floor if she did this by herself.

Together, they made their way over to the bar, crowded with dozens of other IM third years. Cassie leaned over the bar, trying to find a free bartender, but quickly abandoned her mission when she wasn’t immediately successful.

“You should do the next toast,” she said, spinning to face Bryce, steadying herself just slightly by leaning back against the bar.

Bryce shrugged, “Nah, tonight’s for you guys. I’m still just a lowly resident for the next four years.”

Cassie grinned, sliding a hand forward and grabbing a belt loop on Bryce’s pants, pulling him toward her. “Where’s all this modesty coming from?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know I’m still the best surgical resident at Edenbrook. In fact, now that you are moving up in the world, I am losing some competition for best resident in all specialties.”

Cassie laughed, dragging her hand across his hip and sliding it into his back pocket, giving his ass a light squeeze, prompting Bryce to waggle his eyebrows at her.

“I see you’ve reached a very boldly flirty stage of drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, but sliding her other hand into his other pocket at the same time, “I just found a comfortable place to rest my hands. Besides, in a couple of weeks, I’ll officially outrank you, so I gotta enjoy this-” she added, giving him another squeeze for good measure, “-while I still can.”

He chuckled at that. She wasn’t going to be supervising him at all, so it didn’t really matter, but Jackie had taken to teasing Cassie that their relationship was going to become suddenly scandalous and forbidden when Cassie became a fellow. “Are you sure you want to move in together, then? It might be hard to keep your hands to yourself around all of this-” Bryce gestured an open hand up and down in front of his body “-when you have 24/7 access.”

Cassie tilted her head to the side, a coy little smirk forming. “Yeah. You know why?”

“Why?” he asked, humoring her as he lifted a hand to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

“Because you helped clean up after that first party in our apartment.”

His hand froze next to her cheek. He’d completely forgotten he’d done that. He’d mainly just been looking for something to do while waiting to say goodnight to Cassie, or rather, hoping he wouldn’t have to say goodnight. Pitching in with cleaning up the trash had just seemed like the natural thing to do. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“It’s when I knew you were a good person, not just some overconfident hot guy. It’s when I knew you were boyfriend material, not just a casual fling.”

Bryce didn’t quite know how to respond to that. His feelings for Cassie evolved gradually, slowly, naturally over the past three years, going from seeing her as that cute dark-haired medicine intern to the person he loved and trusted most in the world bit-by-bit, day-by-day. He didn’t have some moment with her that was some great epiphany where he realized he wanted more or saw her differently. He just cherished getting to know her better, seeing different sides of her, and adoring nearly everything that he discovered or she revealed. But Cassie had apparently seen depths in him from the start. He wasn’t sure if it put their early hookups in a different light or not, but all he could really do at this point was appreciate that they had come this far together, no matter how they got there. So he gave her a gentle kiss, pulling back as he saw one of the bartenders coming toward them and flagging him down, ordering another round of tequila shots, plus a glass of water for himself.

Soon, they made their way back to the table, Bryce carrying the shots while Cassie focused on not bumping into people. She waited for him to pass around the drinks and sit back down before she plunked herself back onto his lap, looping one arm behind his neck and grabbing one of the shot glasses with her other.

“What are we toasting to this time?” Jackie asked, raising her glass and looking around the table expectantly.

“I have one,” said Bryce, causing Cassie to twist her head to look at him, her eyebrows raised and her pupils blown wide, “To that first party you guys threw at the apartment. It really was the start of everything.”

Everyone clinked their glasses together over the center of the table, with some “Hear hears” and “To the parties” scattered in the mix, but Cassie didn’t throw back her shot right away. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on Bryce’s, offering him a brilliant smile before wrapping her other arm around his neck in a tender hug... and unfortunately dumping her shot of tequila down his neck and under his shirt in the process.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” she cried out once she realized what she’d done.

“It’s fine,” Bryce said with a little shrug, “but I do think that signals the end of the festivities for me.”

“Party pooper!” Elijah yelled out, but Bryce just shook his head. 

“Someone has to actually be functional enough to take care of patients tomorrow, and it’s certainly not going to be anyone else at this table. Cassie, you coming over to my place, or are you going to keep the party going with this crew?”

“Your place,” she said without a moment of hesitation. “I spent the night with you after my first party of residency, so who am I to buck tradition at the last one?” Bryce grinned at that, noticing Elijah just shaking his head out of the corner of his eye before Cassie leaned over and kissed him, sliding her hands along his shoulders before pulling back.

“Get a room,” Jackie said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m trying,” Bryce replied over Cassie’s shoulder. “Come on, babe,” he said, helping Cassie to her feet before standing up and slinging an arm around her waist, waving goodbye to their friends as he navigated her towards the door. 

“I can’t believe I’m basically done with residency,” Cassie said as Bryce pulled out his phone to order a Dryve. “It’s been three years already. How has it been three years?”

Bryce just chuckled, guiding her down the large step off onto the sidewalk as they left the bar. “Time flies when you’re working 80 hours a week for minimum wage, huh?”

“Something like that,” she replied, pivoting to face him and tugging him into a loose hug. 

“Looking back, anything you’d want to change?”

She seemed to ponder that for a moment before shaking her head, “I mean, I probably could have done without the suspension, but I think it helped me grow. I don’t know. I guess even with all the drama, I’m happy with how things turned out. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, Cassie,” he said, squeezing her tight and running his hand along her spine, “it does.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

Open Heart:  @tallulahshh @rookie-ramsey @omgjasminesimone @ao719​

Bryce x MC:    @thequeenchoices​  @fortunatelywaywardsandwich​   @dreaming-of-movies​  @choicesarehard​  @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl​  @maria-soederberg​ @mskaneko​   @sunnyxdazed​

Event Tags: @choicesmaychallenge​ @kinda-iconic​

#choices may challenge #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #open heart fanfiction #oph fanfic

[veinclerk05-blog]

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Similar to slowcoach, slowpoke's rhyming quality strengthened adoption into usual speech as well as proceeding use. People like to say things that trip off the tongue pleasantly as well as, in a way, musically or poetically. slipshod - careless, messy - messy originally indicated wearing sandals or loose footwear, from the earlier expression 'slip-shoe'. The careless/untidy meaning of loose is stemmed from 'down-at-heel' or used shoes, which was the first use of the expression in the sense or low quality. The very early reckless meaning of slapdash referred to shoddy look. A lot more just recently the expression's definition has expanded also to reckless actions or initiatives.

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weak breath/baited breath - distressed, pregnant - the previous spelling was the original variation of the expression, but the term is currently usually incorrectly damaged to the last 'baited' in modern use, which incorrectly suggests a various beginning. Lots of people appear now to presume a significance of the breath being metaphorically 'baited' rather than the original non-metaphorical original meaning, which simply described the breath being interrupted, or stopped. The expression shows up in Shakespeare's The Merchant Of Venice, which dates its beginning as 16th century or earlier. Words bate is a reduced type of abate, both bring the same definition, and also initially showed up in the 1300s, prior to which the past tense kinds were baten as well as abaten. turn it up - quit it, stopped talking, no chance, stop doing that, I don't believe you, etc - Cassells Jargon Thesaurus recommends the 'transform it up' expression relates to 'stop doing that' and that the very first use was as very early as the 1600s.

According to Bartlett's, the expression 'Too look for as needle in a container of hay' shows up partly III, chapter 10. ' Container' is an old word for a package of hay, taken from the French word botte, meaning package. Maker (dictionary and alterations) lists the complete expression - 'searching for a needle in a container of hay' which informs us that the term was first used in this type, and was later on adapted throughout the 1900s right into the contemporary form. Mum has absolutely nothing to do with mommy - it's merely a phonetic spelling and metaphorical word to signify closing one's mouth, so as not to utter a sound. The exact same sensible onomatopoeic derivation likely produced the words mumble, murmur and mumps. Just as in modern-day times, war-time governments then threw away no possibility to exaggerate risks and dangers, so as to instill respect amongst, as well as to preserve authority over, the masses. So there you have it - mum's words - possibly a product of federal government spin.

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Regretfully this really appealing alternative/additional derivation of 'take the mick/micky' appears not to be supported by any main resources or references. If any person can refer me to a reputable reference please allow me understand, until such time the Micky Bliss cockney rhyming theory stays the most famously sustained beginning. The crazy bird's name came into English from a different origin, Scandinavia, in the 1800s, and also probably had a larger impact in the United States on the expressions crazy as a crazy, and additionally drunk as a crazy. The highly bad slang loony container, describing a mental home, first appeared around 1910.

Nowadays, despite still being https://datchet.lipofreeze2u.co.uk/ according to English thesaurus, resolving a blended team of people as 'promiscuous' would not be a very suitable use the word. pernickety/persnickety/pernickerty/ persnickerty - fussy, picky, fastidious - pernickety seems currently to be the most usual contemporary type of this odd word. The variants happen possibly because no clear derivation exists, offering no apparent recommendation indicate anchor a punctuation or enunciation.

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The word appears first to have actually been videotaped between in Jamieson's Dictionary of the Scottish Language, in the form of pernickitie, as an extension of a Scottish word pernicky, which is maybe a much better idea to its beginnings. This is all conjecture in the lack of trustworthy recorded origins.

On which direct a combination of the words certain and fussy might have been a factor, particularly when you consider the earlier pernicky type. Odds meaning the various opportunities of contenders, as made use of in gambling, was very first recorded in English in 1574 according to Chambers, so using the 'can't probabilities it' expression might possibly be very old without a doubt. Cassells and various other trusted jargon resources say that 'take the mick' is cockney poetry slang, c. 1950s, from 'Micky Bliss', rhyming with 'take the piss'. No-one appears to know who Micky Happiness was, which probably indicates a little weak point in the derivation. Conversely, and possibly in addition in the direction of the adoption of the expression, a less well-known opportunity is that 'mick' in this feeling is a shortening of words 'micturation', which is a clinical term for peeing.

Partridge says initially tape-recorded regarding 1830, but suggests the expression could have remained in use from perhaps the 1600s. This is definitely feasible given that board indicated table in older times, which is the association with card video games played on a table. It was previously bord, deducible to Old Saxon, likewise implying guard, constant with similar international words going back to the earliest beginnings of European language.

This table sense of board likewise offered us the board as put on a board of directors and also the conference room. slowpoke - sluggish individual or employee - slowpoke is USA slang first recorded in print according to Chambers. Possibly from cowpoke - words originally utilized to define the men that prodded cattle onto slaughterhouse trains. Poke represented the picture of job, being based on an usual job activity of the moments, as did punch.

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This to a specific extent explains why a lot of English words with French beginnings occur in way of living as well as social language. Incidentally the word French, to explain individuals or things of France and also the language itself, has existed in English in its modern kind since concerning 1200, prior to which it was 'Frensch', and also earlier in Old English 'frencisc'. This derived from Old High German frenkisc and frenqisc, from and also straight pertaining to the Franks, the early Germanic individuals who conquered the Romans in Gaul around the fifth century. The name of the Frank individuals is also the root of the word France and the Franc money. The most enticing theory for the ultimate origin of words Frank is that it originates from a comparable word for a spear or lance, which was the favoured weapon of the Frankish people. whatever drifts your boat - if it makes you happy/it's your decision/it's your option (although I don't always agree as well as I uncommitted anyway) - a fairly modern expression from the late 20th century with oddly little known beginnings.

Do you poop when you die?

The body may release stool from the rectum, urine from the bladder, or saliva from the mouth. This happens as the body's muscles relax. Rigor mortis , a stiffening of the body muscles, will develop in the hours after death.

In the late 1400s, silver ounce coins were produced from silver extracted at Joachim's Valley, Bohemia, by a regionally powerful family, the Matters of Schlick. These very early local European coins, called 'Joachimsthaler', shortened to 'thaler', were typical silver because region, which would nowadays extend into Germany. The high quality and also online reputation of the 'Joachimsthaler' coins consequently triggered the 'thaler' term to spread as well as be made use of for more main generic versions of the coins in Germany, as well as elsewhere as well. Later, from the 1580s, the term was additionally made use of in its adapted 'buck' form as a name for the Spanish peso (additionally called 'item of eight'). Clergy as well as clerics and also clerks were consequently among the most able and very valued and also valued of all 'workers'.

For such a well-used as well as widely known expression the information of beginnings are oddly thin, and a generally not referenced at all by the normal expressions and also etymology resources. Other pointers refer to feasible links with card video games, in which showing up a card would reveal something concealed, or mark the end of a flow of play. It's specifically tough to guess regarding the origins since words 'turn' has so many different meanings, especially when combined with various other really adaptable words. If you can include anything to assist identfy when as well as where and exactly how the 'transform it up' expression developed please contact us. The initial phrasing was 'tide nor time tarrieth no male' (' tarrieth' meaning 'awaits'). taxi/taxicab - fare-charging auto, although taxi can be a fare-charging watercraft - taxi and also taxicab are words which we tend to take for approved without thinking what the derivation may be.

locations Of The Body treated With Fat Freezing.

As a matter of fact the beginning of taxi is the French 'taximetre' as well as German equivalent 'taxameter', integrating taxi/taxa and also metre/meter. Taximeter appeared in English around 1898, at which time its use was transferring from horse-drawn carriages to automobile. Taxi is an acronym of another French word cabriolet, which came into English in the 1700s, and also it shows up in the complete French taxicab equivalent 'taximetre cabriolet'. Taxicab showed up in English meaning a steed attracted carriage in 1826, a heavy steam locomotive in 1859, and an electric motor cars and truck in 1899. Chambers suggests that the French taximetre is in fact stemmed from the German taxameter, which remarkably gave rise to an earlier similar but temporary English term taxameter videotaped in 1894, applied to horsedrawn taxicabs. sweep the board - win everything - based on the allegory of winning all the cards or cash risk in a game of cards.

Do fat cells die when you lose weight?

Once fat cells form, they might shrink during weight loss, but they do not disappear, a fact that has derailed many a diet.

Mojo possibly derives from African-American language, describing a talisman or witchcraft appeal, and is close to words 'moco', indicating withccraft, used by the Gullah of the United States South Carolina coastline and also islands. Words as well as the definition were popularised by the 1956 blues tune Got My Mojo Working, initially made famous by Muddy Seas' 1957 recording, and also subsequently covered by nearly all blues artists ever since. The term gave the origin for words mobster, suggesting mobster, which appeared in American English in the very early 1900s. Hitch used in the feeling is American from the 1880s although the basic hitch definition of relocation by drawing or jerking is Old English from the 1400s hytchen, and also prior, icchen meaning move from 1200.

#hifu treatment #facelift #fat freezing #femiwand #Cryo #Cryopen #cellulite #Femiwand treatment #skin tag removal #Bucks vaginal tightening #hifu facial #fat freezing service #cryolipolysis #Bodybuilding for Weight Loss #lose stomach weight #fat legs treatment #Anti aging hifu #Mens facelift treatment #Double chin removal #coolsculpting #wart removal #cellulite treatments #Non surgical facelift #body and face toning #Lipo freeze

[arisvensims-blog]

The Strangest Thing Part 1

"Babe!" Sabi shouted from the bathroom. "Come here!" "What? Why?"

               Sabi sighed impatiently, "Just come in here!" She adjusted her star choker around her neck, making sure it was laying perfectly. After all, that night she had to look perfect. It was the first silent auction since she started working at the Art Center a month ago.

"What's up---oh wow..." Richard closed the door, flirtatiously lifting a brow at his girlfriend. "You sure you want to go out tonight?" He smiled. Sabi rolled her eyes and grinned. "Is it too much?"                "Well you sure are making me regret not being invited." He jested. "I think you look perfect."

Sabi averted her gaze, her grin growing. "I'm far from perfect. I just hope it's not too much."

Richard laughed.

"Trust me, babe." He gave her a wink, "You look and are perfect."

With a swirl of excitement, Sabi skipped over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Moving passed him she opened the bathroom door and went out into the living room/dining room/kitchen.

"Make sure to get some rest. They push you too hard at the hospital."

               "I'm an intern," he chuckled. "It's natural."

Sabi walked over to the coffee table where the TV was and grabbed her house keys. She felt Richard's hands gently wrapping around her waist and she turned.

"So maybe when you get back we can pick up where we left off before I got called into work?"

Sabi met his seductive gaze and teased him back. "Maybe," She bit her lip. "But will you be awake enough is the question."

               Richard chuckled, shaking his head. "Anything for you, love. You'll be back around 12?" Sabi nodded. "12:30 at the latest." She caressed his cheek and gave it a quick kiss.

"I love you." She said, staring deep into his eyes.

Richard's smile was genuine. "Right back at you, babe."

               The kiss was quick, like a habit. Sabi walked passed him and headed out the door. Everything was perfect. Her job. Her boyfriend. Her life. She couldn't have asked for anything else, because she had everything.

The uber didn't take long. The Art Center was right down the street from her loft. It was convenient. She gave the driver a smile and trotted off into the building. It was only 4PM. Her boss came over to her as soon as he laid eyes on her. "Sabi! Right on time! Are you excited?!"

               Mr. Prater was very kind to Sabi. As soon as he saw the name Rolland on her resume his shoulders perked up. Apparently, he and her father were old University buddies, and there weren't many Rolland's in this town.

               "There are some guests in the dining hall, itching to place their bids." He chuckled, rubbing his hands. "This is going to be a big night for us, kiddo!"

               Sabi grinned, showing the utmost enthusiasm. "We have a lot of interesting pieces from local artist tonight as well, I heard!" Mr. Prater nodded, "And we have a very special painting! Came all the way from Scotland! It's over 200 years old! If we get this one on the floor, I'm sure someone will bid high for it."

"Can I see it?" Asked Sabi. Mr. Prater cocked his head to the side, "Well, I was going to ask you if you could get it from the basement."

"Wait, me?" Sabi looked confused. "Shouldn't, like, a professional be handling it or...something?"

               Mr. Prater laughed lightly, "I trust you won't drop it. Besides, it's not like it's that fragile. It was reframed in the 1920s."

                               "That's still...100 years ago, sir." She was unsure if she felt comfortable bringing such an antique upstairs. The look in Mr. Prater's eyes however, made her feel almost obligated to do it. "Alright," she finally said.

Sabi made her way to the back of the gallery, holding her hands in front of her nervously. "If I smudge, crack or drop this thing I won't be able to pay it off." She mumbled to herself. Mr. Prater put a lot of trust in her and it almost made her feel anxious. Heading down the stairs, she opened the heavy door and walked in. Most of the items were already on the floor. Just a few paintings and sculptures were left, the less impressive, she thought. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for something that was out of place. Something that she didn't remember seeing. Suddenly hey gaze fell on the portrait in the far corner. There was an almost ominous feeling to it. As she came closer, to see it more clearly, she exhaled in surprise.

The painting was of a woman. Her eyes heavily bruised and bloodshot, but something about her profile seemed so familiar. Her nose, cheeks and lips. Even the hair color. It was almost as if the painting was of her.              

               It couldn't have been possible. She never once had long hair and, in fact, it was very old. How did Mr. Prater not notice this?

"So strange..." She crossed her arms, staring deeper into the eyes of the woman in the painting. "The strangest thing, really." She then began to approach it slowly. "What happened to you?" Her arm reached out and her fingers gently traced along the frame. How was this even possible? She had heard of people looking exactly like old historical paintings, but this was almost surreal. Suddenly, and last too fast for her to react, The painting began to ripple.

               She stepped back, thinking that maybe she was dreaming all of this, but it was very much happening. Through the rippling, a hand reached through. Sabi gasped. Her heart raced a mile a minute. It couldn't have been happening. There was no way possible that a hand, then an arm, then an entire man was falling out of the painting!

She backed up even more, as this man stumbled out, and crashed into the floor. "What the hell?!" She shouted, and the man stirred. Looking around. He was panting, flushed, and very much not from this time.

He stumbled to his feet, hunched over and out of breath.

"Ne're again." He panted. Sabi was in too much shock to move. The man finally looked at her, and his eyes widened. "Lass, what're ye doing here?"

Instead of a calm disposition, Sabi responded aggressively. "Me? What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?! What is this?! Did you and Mr. Prater did some sort of joke on me?"

               "Ey? I dunno what you are speaking of." He pulled himself up, dusting himself off. "What're ye doing in my studio? And..." His eyes averted, blush creeping on his face. "What is that get-up? Not proper for a woman."

               Obviously this guy was not from her timeline. What she wore was perfectly fine, but that wasn't what bugged her, "Your studio? Dude, this isn't Scotland. This is America."

               The man looked surprised at that, but not surprised at the fact that he obviously just came out of a painting, was standing in front of a stranger. "I see," He said, turning about. "Ah, here it is."

"Ye old enchanted Druid. I knew it."        

"Knew what?!" Sabi exclaimed, becoming more annoyed by the minute. "Drop the accent! Tell me what you are doing here and how you pulled this whole thing off, or I will call the police."

               "Uh huh, yes yes." He waved his hand at her, as if dissmissing her entirely. "I need to be getting this back home, now."

               "Whoa whoa whoa," Sabi slid in front of him. He stared at her, puzzled, "Can I help ye?"

”You can help me by telling me what the hell is going on!"

But the man looked passed her briefly then back, making a connection. The same connection Sabi made when she saw the picture. "You are she." He smiled.

               "What? She who?!" Sabi was at the last of her patience, if she even had any through this entire encounter.

               The man approached her, gently lifting his hand and brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"The one who put this curse on me family."

Sabi was taken aback, jerking her head and slapping his hand away from her. "What..." It was less enthusiastic than her last few times saying that word. "This is a dream."

               "Ay, lass." Said the man, "A dream come true." Within a blink of an eye, the man had vanished.

Was this all an illusion? Did this even happen? She looked around the room dizzily. The only thing coming to mind was her boyfriend. She needed to talk to someone about this, and he was the only one she felt comfortable with. She quickly ascended the stairs and made her way out of the basement.

She rushed passed Mr. Prater, who came after her. "Sabi? Sabi?! Where are you going?!"

But Sabi didn't stop running. Even in her high heels and the pain coursing through her feet she didn't stop. So many questions. So much confusion. What would Richard think? He'd think she was crazy! A man falling out of a painting from 200 years ago. Oh, and, the chick in the painting looks exactly like her. Weird, right? He'd think she was joking. He'd think she was drunk.

She could have ubered but she left her phone, keys and purse back at the Art Center. She was too in her head to even think of grabbing them. What exactly happened?

               A painting from Scotland. What did that man call it? A Druid? A painting of a Druid? And he didn't seem like he was from 200 years ago. He dressed more like from the early 1900s. His accent was obviously Scottish. It was almost hard to make out exactly what he was saying. Wait. Mr. Prater mentioned it was reframed in the 1920s. Was that the man who did it? But how did he get stuck in a painting? This didn't make sense. Magic wasn't real. Druid's weren't magical. There wasn't anything to explain exactly what happened.

Finally she reached her home. She was ready to knock but the door was unlocked. Strange. Richard always locked the door. Maybe...maybe that guy came by?

               He didn't know her name, how would he know where she lived? But then again he did just poof into thin air. Did he even exist?

               "Babe!" She rushed in, but stopped.

"Oh my God!"

 What did Sabi see? Was it the mysterious man or...something else?

Find out in part 2!

#sim stories #fantasy story #mystery stories #sims 4 #romance story #sims romance

[adzandiel-blog]

Fine, We Were Responsible for the Straight Pride Parade

*Originally titled "the time we thought straight people couldn’t get any dumber, made a bet, and then watched as they hit rock bottom and kept digging"

This is mainly directed at you Straight Pride Parade bastards. I read an article today, showed it to Aden, and we decided that yeah, we should probably fess up in a minor way.

You know that feeling sometimes when you trip or fall in your dream, and wake up with a jolt, feeling like you just fell a long way?‌ Yeah, I need to take credit for that idea. Not that I go around each night in the metaphysical dream realm and throw people off cliffs just for the kicks1, but that whole jolting you awake at 3 AM thing? That was totally my business pitch.

Anyway, that doesn’t relate in any way to this post.‌ Just keep in mind that we (both angels and demons alike) have the ability to just dip into others’ dreams and extend a little Heavenly or infernal influence.

This is a relatively recent event compared to all the other stories we’ve got, but we figured it’s a fun story to tell.

A few months ago, Aden and I‌ saw a gay couple being kicked out of a coffee shop, with the manager proclaiming loudly that ‘this is a Christian establishment’2 3 and that said couple should never return. And I’m the demon and all, yes, but then, I had to almost physically restrain Aden from rushing at the homophobic dick and giving him a shiner.

We left right alongside the couple in protest, bought them a meal at another diner4, and I‌ personally made sure that when the manager went home that night, he’d find that his walls were much thinner than he remembered, and that the couples living next to him, below him, and above him suddenly had much more energy for their libidos.

So when we went home that night, we were suitably tipsy, which is a context that often leads to entertainingly tangent-y discussions. It started with Aden drunkenly flipping through the Bible, finding Leviticus 18:22, and cursing when he finds the translation wrong.5

See, the thing is, the English translation of the Hebrew Bible is just slightly off. America paid for it, back in the day, and we’re not entirely sure what the Hell happened6 with the translation, but it came out different and gave millions of people the wrong impression.

In the Hebrew, Greek, German, Swedish, Norwegian, and undoubtedly countless many other translations of the Bible, the quote “Man shall not lie with man as he does with a woman, for it is an abomination” is instead (correctly) translated into “Man shall not lie with young boys as he does with a woman, for it is an abomination”.7

See the difference?

It’s all a great big bloody misunderstanding, is what it is. The Bible condemns pederasty.

So we began thinking. If millions—billions, really—of desperate Christians will believe and live by a wrong translation, how much stupider can they get?

We made a bet.

Aden’s money was on straight people already hitting rock bottom. Mine was on the belief that straight people—and people, in general—have, in fact, already hit rock bottom, but that it wouldn’t stop them from descending further.8 In fact, I‌ said, I can hear the pick-axe sales skyrocketing already.

And we had to prove that one of us was right, didn’t we?

So our million-dollar idea was this: If we could get someone to celebrate heterosexuality with pride, in the sense of June being Pride Month9 and rainbows being flags of proud defiance against oppression and all, then I‌ would win the bet. If our targets refused to do something so blatantly disrespectful, then Aden would win.

You can probably guess who won.10

That night and the rest of the nights in the week, Aden and I would occasionally infiltrate and pop up in random dreams of heterosexual Christians (and/or other religions/lack thereof) and we tried our best to influence them into thinking that they, as straight people, deserve to be celebrated and proud of their sexuality.11

We didn’t expect it to, you know, work.12

And the thing is, you know, this isn’t even a new thing!‌ I went ahead and researched straight pride parades, and apparently, it’s been around since the late 1900’s, which is ridiculous. Humanity’s been around for… as long as we have, which is give-or-take five millennium, and they still sit around with the ability to pull this kind of utter bullshit.

How incredibly stupid is that?

I don’t remember their names (the guys behind the parade in Boston), but just in case they’re reading this:‌ Hi. Right big idiotic bastards, the lot of you. So idiotic, really, it’s almost hilarious. And besides that, you have an incredibly stupid website with an equally ridiculous domain name.

And one last thing:‌ Advocating to put an ‘S’ in ‘LGBTQ’?‌

God, Satan, and every being in between, I don’t even know where to start with that one.

It’sGreatToBeStraight…InOurCoreBeliefsOfRespectingTheLGBTQ+Community. God bless, Satan strengthen, Amen, and all that.

Until next time, folks. Don't make us write our next post with righteous anger again.

Or… kick people off cliffs just for the throws? ↩︎

Which, by the way, is an utterly stupid thing to say in response to kicking gay couples out of your establishment. Fuck you if you do that. God never said shit about disliking gay couples, She only talked about disliking pedophiles. And Her son just disliked figs. We would know. Aden met him once. In a stroke of demonic genius, I introduced him to apples. He liked them. ↩︎

The waiter who was serving the couple looked downright mortified and embarrassed about his superior’s behavior. Aden managed to convince him—afterwards, in a subtle manner—to resign, and he made sure of the fact that the ex-waiter (he couldn’t have been more than 18 in age) found a nice job with decent pay. ↩︎

The diner in mention had friendly people running the place and excellent food. The couple was grateful, and insisted on buying us drinks. Right now, the four of us are engaged in a loop of buying each other food and drinks. It’s fun, really. ↩︎

Aden wants me to mention that he never curses. That’s wrong, because I‌ can quote him, word for word, on that night—“Zan, Zan, would yo—look at this. Look at this bullshit—’Man shall not lie with man, for it is an abomination’—they really thought that was—God, ‘m not drunk enough for this shit”—and many other nights as well. Don’t give me that look, angel. ↩︎

Although Hell definitely might’ve happened. My kind aren’t inherently homophobic or anything, but it wouldn’t have been unthinkable for a demon to think it funny for a large amount of people to hate homosexuals. I’m not that guy. Abaddon definitely would’ve approved the idea, though. Whichever bastard it was probably got a commendation for it. ↩︎

This is because, back in those days, they encouraged a system in which boys (with ages ranging from 8-12) were able to be ‘coupled’ by older men. There’s even Ancient Greek documents that show us how their parents used this bullshit to help their sons’ social status. Needless to say, there was a lot of demonic curses going around in Ancient Greek. I used up my quota then and had to call Abaddon for an extension. ↩︎

The commonly known phrase ‘The descent into Hell is easy’ drowns out a long-forgotten alternate; "facilius descensus fatuitas", which more or less translates to ‘Easier is the descent into foolishness’. ↩︎

My idea. Aden helped. ↩︎

Three things to do as I‌ wished on Aden’s part. Still got two to go. Details not privy. ↩︎

It took Aden a lot of convincing on my part for him to actually do something that wasn’t purely good and angelic in nature, but it worked. Mainly because we were bored, and we don’t have much to lose if our automatically-generated reports to our respective Head Offices don’t shine a good light on us. Besides, we made them forget their dreams, but retain the influence. ↩︎

I‌ mean, I‌ did, but… I‌ didn’t. You know? ↩︎

#lgbtq #lgbt #gay pride! #aden's an angel of heaven and he supports it #i'm a demon of hell and i support it #really you have no argument against NOT supporting it #pride #queer pride

[savage-angel-was-a-mistake]

The “I Swear to God, If You Bought Those On Craigslist” Incident

Pt. 7 of The Incidents: Naruto and Sasuke’s Strange Relationship Milestones

Summary:  Today is absolutely perfect. Sasuke is finally attending a party as Naruto's. Things are looking up... until they're looking down, particularly at the silverware Sasuke swears he didn't sell on Craigslist after he quite clearly threatened to. It was Naruto's fault - he left, and he summoned a snow storm so he could stay away longer. He got what he deserved. But also Sasuke didn't do it. It was his evil twin, Jacinto. He swears.

This day is a day that will forever go down in history. Sasuke is sure it will be at least book 10 of his 15-volume memoir, but it will still be in there. He isn’t sure how much longer he’ll live at this point, but he figures it’s best to live a good life than live a long one.

Today is the day of the first party he will ever attend as Naruto Uzumaki’s +1.

Ah, the status of a +1, so glamourous. Uzumaki must surely love him to drag him along. Sasuke smiles contentedly.

“…are you doing that ranting in your head again?”

Sasuke looks particularly offended as his gaze moves from the wall to the student.

“N-no.” Sasuke defends himself.

“That means yes.” Another student sings out.

“No does not mean yes in any language. That’s a very big problem, thank you very much.”

“Are you saying… we should make a language where no means yes?”

“No,” Sasuke groans, “I mean it’s a problem to – never mind, what were we even going over?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I don’t remember. I thought that was pretty obvious by the way I asked you.”

“Some teacher you are.” A student in the back leans back in his chair.

“Yeah, you keep saying that when you fall backwards for the tenth time this week despite my various warnings.”

“I’m not going to fall.” The student mocks.

“Natural selection is going to have a hay day with you, you know that?” Sasuke mumbles.

He rolls his eyes as he struggles to remember where he left off in his lecture.

This day couldn’t get any worse, obviously, since he was going to that party tonight.

Apparently, he was wrong.

“Yeah! I haven’t actually met her, but apparently she’s Gaara’s sister, so that’s pretty neat.” Naruto roams about the bed room getting ready.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s her birthday or something, but Gaara didn’t want to be left alone.”

“Mm-hmm…” Sasuke nods absentmindedly. Shit.

“Poor Gaara. He’s not a big socialite, kinda like you.”

“…maybe we shouldn’t go.” Sasuke suggests.

Naruto turns to him.

“Why not?” He approaches Sasuke, “You seemed so excited before.”

“Well,” Sasuke wracks his brain, “I’m feeling a little… ill, I’d suppose. You might have to fetch the smelling salts.”

“Stop going all 1900’s on my, Sas, what’s up?” Naruto leans against the dresser beside Sasuke.

“Nothing Is up, Naruto – I’m about to be down, in fact.”

“Sasuke, you’re going to be fine – we’re going.”

“But, have you maybe considered, maybe we… didn’t?” Sasuke purses his lips as he side-eyes Naruto.

“We’re going.”

“But –“

“Or I’m going.”

Sasuke gapes at him.

“Without you.”

Sasuke gasps.

“Well, I’d never, in all of my life,” Sasuke places a hand on his chest, “what in tarnation? What the hell do you think you’d even – ah, the nerve – the gall – the sheer amount of balls it takes to say that.”

“Balls like a ball pit?”

“No, I meant testicles, dip weed.”

“Dip weed is the most –“

“I know it’s stupid I’m not thinking straight!” Sasuke hisses.

“You never are.”

“Yeah – well – you have a point.” Sasuke mumbles.

“Dude, Sas, chill. Whatever ants are in your pants will vacate them once we’re there.”

“…if you insist.”

Naruto makes for the door.

“If you went alone, you wouldn’t summon another snow storm, would you?”

“Get your ass over here, Sasuke.”

“Alright.”

The party is going well. Food and drinks had been served, people are wobbling everywhere drunk, and Sasuke gets to bask in the witnessing of various “hold my beer” moments.

Ah, yes, this is mighty fine indeed.

Naruto approaches Sasuke.

“I told you that you had nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, looks like I’m fine.”

They watch the people in the vast back yard underneath the stars. It could’ve been romantic if they weren’t currently watching people drunkenly stumble about.

“I have no idea why she insists on having these parties.”

Sasuke glares at Gaara.

“Excuse me, who are you speaking to?”

“Down, Sasuke,” Naruto places a hand on Sasuke’s arm, “he’s a friend.”

“I thought we had already established how I felt about friends.”

“Hey, Kiba’s pretty cool – I thought you liked him.”

“You thought wrong.”

“Is he always like this?” Gaara asks.

“Yes, always.”

“Stop talking to him.” Sasuke whines.

“Sasuke,” Naruto kisses him on the forehead, “I love you so much, but you’re being a little whiney bitch. Imma need you to take the crazy down a notch.”

“Oh, hon, this bitch dial goes to 10 and I’m on a straight 70 at all times,” Sasuke replies, “…but I could maybe consider taking it down to a 69, maybe even a 68.999998 for you. Because I love you.”

“That’s… so thoughtful of you, Sasuke.” Naruto says, completely unassured.

“I know. I am the most thoughtful man in existence.” Sasuke nods his head in agreement with himself.

“And humble, too.” Gaara comments.

Sasuke turns to say something snarky back but sees Naruto and thinks twice.

“…maybe I can take it to a 50?”

“50’s much better, thank you.” Naruto pats Sasuke’s head.

Sasuke tenses as Naruto talks with Gaara. He needs to be on his best behavior or this night ain’t gonna be fun.

More and more and more food is being brought out. Sasuke begins to sweat as he sees guests drop plate after plate, cup after cup, fork… after fork… after fork… after fork.

Sasuke gulps nervously.

“What’s up in sauce land?” Naruto slides up to him.

“Well, there’s mustard,” Sasuke winces as he sees a fork dropped and another picked up from the table, “…and the forecast is calling for massive amounts of ketchup.”

Naruto ponders this for a moment.

“…I don’t know what that means.”

“Hopefully you won’t.”

Naruto looks at Sasuke cautiously.

“Sasuke.”

“Yes, dear, sweet sunshine, the love of my life that I’d never do wrong ever and if you think I did then you’re a terrible person and I can’t believe what you might accuse me of like really honest to God I cannot believe this and I’m already offended by what you have done in this hypothetical situation and now you’ve upset me nice going asshole.”

Naruto stands in place, blinking quickly as he attempts to process the very long winded but surprisingly fast speech.

“What am I hypothetically going to do?”

Sasuke is keeping a watch on the table. The forks are now gone.

“We have to leave.”

“…what?”

“We have to leave,” Sasuke grabs Naruto’s arm, “we have to go. We have to leave the country, change our names,” Sasuke desperately tries to tug Naruto towards the exit, “buy secondhand faces off the black market!”

“What in god’s name is wrong Sasuke?” Naruto asks.

The real silverwear is brought out.

“Everything! Everything is wrong! There are,” Sasuke’s eyes dart around the room, “men. Hitmen. From the moon. I couldn’t tell you, I really wanted to, but they’d have killed me sooner! But now they look quite blood thirsty and… a little famished? Anyways, we have to leave or we’ll be eaten alive by moon men.”

“Jesus Christ, Sasuke –“

“MOON MEN, NARUTO! MOON MEN! DO YOU NOT KNOW THE MOON MEN?” Sasuke exclaims as he looks behind Naruto.

“No, I don’t! What the fuck –“

“Hey, guys, is something wrong?”

Sasuke’s face can, apparently, get paler than it usually is.

“M-moon men?”

Naruto turns to Temari.

“I’m sorry, he’s a little, uh, how do I say this?” Naruto looks at Sasuke who’s downright petrified, “He’s a crazy bitch, honestly.”

“Oh, I know you!”

Sasuke’s eyes go wide at the comment, “No you don’t. I’ve never met you in my life. In fact, this is my first day in this country – on this planet, even. Also, I’m deaf, and blind, and I don’t even know what you just said because it’s impossible because I’m deaf and blind.”

Temari turns to Naruto.

“He’s always like this?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“He wasn’t like this when I met him.”

“I JUST SAID I’VE NEVER MET YOU IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!” Sasuke exclaims, “I have an evil twin that runs around here! Jacinto, maybe you’ve met him, swell guy except he’s FUCKING EVIL AND DOES LITERALLY EVERYTHING I WOULDN’T DO! Everything I wouldn’t do, did you hear that, Naruto? He does everything I wouldn’t do.”

Temari is physically leaning back from the sheer force of Sasuke’s statements.

A guest walks by them. Naruto stares blankly at their plate.

“Yeah, but Jacinto has a mustache. You can’t really see it, since he’s an albino and it’s white and we’re both very white. He dies his hair the same color as mine.”

“…I see.”

“Yeah. He also has buck teeth, but apparently you can cover that up with makeup –“

“That’s some mighty fine silverware you’ve got there.” Naruto glares at Sasuke, “and I swear to god, you better not have bought those on Craigslist.”

“Yes, that’s where I got them! You’re, uh, friend sold them to me.”

Naruto stares at Sasuke expectantly.

“What do you want, a damn poem filled with all of my woes and my worst fears about selling your silverware on Craigslist when I told you I would if you left and then you summoned a fucking snow storm so obviously Imma sell that shit except I didn’t and it was actually Jacinto, my albino, buck toothed, swell guy but technically evil twin that does literally everything I wouldn’t do?” Sasuke asks, “Really? Because I think that’s mighty unrealistic.”

“Wait…” Temari laughs, “this is your silverware?”

“Yes, it is.”

“It was,” Sasuke corrects him, “but I sold – I mean, Jacinto sold them on Craigslist, so they now belong to this nice lady, whose name I’ve never heard in my entire life because I don’t actually know what the fuck Craigslist is or what the internet is and actually I live in a tube with a plant.”

Naruto quirks a brow at him.

“It’s a lovely plant. Her name is Rosemary.”

“You have a rosemary plant?” Temari asks.

“Well, actually, it’s cilantro, but the name cilantro is literally so stupid, plus why would I name her cilantro if she is cilantro? It’s like your mother naming you human. That’s fucking weird.”

“You know what’s fucking weird?” Naruto asks, “Me. Apparently I fuck weird.”

“Hey,” Sasuke says, “I’m the good kind of weird though. Like the “so fucking weird that if they made a montage of just the footage of the most mundane parts of my life and sold it as a box set they’d make literal billions because I’m that weird”, not the “I named my fucking child human” weird.”

Naruto covers his face with his hands.

“Jesus shit, Naruto.” Temari chuckles.

“I have… no words. I’m in love with this thing.”

“And I’m in love with this thing,” Sasuke grabs Naruto’s sleeve, “he once though I was going to murder him with a hairbrush.”

“I didn’t know it was a hairbrush. And besides, you thought I was about to initiate you in a cult.”

“That was literally the weirdest way to ask for sex, Naruto. At least I didn’t try to get it on in the school, after hours or not.”

“You called me daddy. We weren’t even dating.”

“It was a slip of the tongue –“

“How do you slip from Naruto or Uzumaki to daddy?” Naruto asks incredulously.

“I don’t know! I just did! I’m not into that shit!”

They both stare at each other for a few moments.

“…wanna go make out in the car?” Sasuke asks.

“Only if we use the unicorn blanket.”

“God, you know I hate that fucking blanket…” Sasuke considers the proposition, “those terms are agreeable, I guess, but we only use the blanket if it comes to sex.”

“Oh, something will be coming, and there will be sex involved.”

“Wonderful, let’s go.”

They race out of the house, leaving Temari behind.

“…they’re made for each other.”

“So that’s why you didn’t want to go to the party?” Naruto asks.

“What?”

“Why you didn’t want to go to the party. Because you sold my silverware to Temari.”

“I can’t believe you have hard feelings about that.”

“I’ve been using plastic silverware for months, Sasuke, I’m a little annoyed.”

“Inconvenienced, yes,” Sasuke says, “but it wasn’t me that did it.”

“Really?” Naruto asks, “Then who did?”

“Jacinto.”

Naruto stares at Sasuke blankly, with a slight hint of murderous rage.

“I’ll throttle you.”

Sasuke grins.

“Choke me, daddy.”

Navigation:

AO3: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 (You Are Here!)

FF.net: It’s one thing foo

#Teacher/teacher AU #Narusasu #more fanfictions coming atcha #yeahya

[musingsofahistorymajor]

My Museum Tales part 1

(Part 2)

People get angry when you don’t know everything about everything in the museum. “What year did this random event that has nothing to do with the exhibit happen? Why don’t you know? You should know!”

Guest: “What mileage does this car get?” Points at a car made in 1902.  Me: “I have no idea but probably not a lot?” How the fuck should I know?

Guest: “What are the odds of you letting me sit in that DeLorean?” Me: “0 to -100.” Guest: “Why not?”  Me: “Cause you could damage it. Only the curators and specialists are allowed to touch the artifacts. That car is an artifact.” Guest: *Surprised* “Oh.”

Guest asks me what sort of food the dining room sells. I am confused. We have no dining room in the museum. Guest points at the the map. He’s pointing at the dining room of the 1900s Mansion (the museum I work at has two mansions on the property). I have to tell him that that room isn’t a place to eat. It was the dining room for the family that used to live in the Mansion. He is still confused. Nothing I say helps.

Coming back from break to hear my relief hang up the help phone (which is connected to the parking) lot say, “The system isn’t broken, your brain is broken” in such a defeated voice.

Executive staff: “Can you put our events on other organization’s online calendars when you have a free moment?”  No? Cause that’s not how the internet works. Its not possible unless they have a public calendar.

The most common question we get: “Where are the dinosaurs?” Across the street at the NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM! It’s the building with all the dinosaur topiaries, the stegosaurus statue out front, and the dinosaurs painted all over the parking garage.

Came across a woman changing her babies diaper on the floor of the kids play room. A) GROSS! B)There’s a restroom with a changing table around the corner.

Me: “I’m sorry sir you can park there. It’s a fire lane.” Guest: “I’m not parked.” Me: *looks at the guest who is no longer in their car and already in the building.The car has been there for at least 15 mins.*  Me: Are you going straight back to your car then? Guest: No I’m here to visit the museum Me: *looks at the camera like I’m on the office* At what point does a car become “parked”

The time a catered event tried to have Cherries Jubilee, a dessert which requires it to be SET ON FIRE. The cooks didn’t understand why they couldn’t make it after we explained that it’s dangerous for the artifacts and it would set the fire alarms off. They light it up anyway. Fire alarm went off. Building had to be evacuated.

Radio Conversation: Me: Are we selling tickets at the door for tonight’s event and what methods of payment are accepted?  Employee 2: Yes and cash. Credit card. Check. Employee 3: Wampum Employee 2: Barter and trade 

That time my boss called and said she was looking for someone creative to help her come up with an idea for centerpieces for big annual fundraising event that night because it completely slipped her mind. The event was that night! She asked if I could come up with something cheap and quick to make but also looks nice. Using random art supplies and things we have lying around  the storage rooms, I came up with some flower vase with photos around it type of thing (looked better than this sounds). Took all day but I made seven centerpieces out of nothing .

Guest: “Why are you only open on Wednesday?” Me: “We’re not?”

Guest: “Aren’t you always free on Saturdays?” Me: “No?”

Guest: “How far of a drive is it to the Mansion” They were standing in the Mansion….

Guest: “What’s the Hay House?” Me: “……It’s a house? Belonging to the Hay family? That you can tour?”

Guest comes in and reads the sign with our admission prices listed. Guest: “So these are the suggested prices?” Me: “No ma’am. The are THE prices. They’re not suggestions” Guest: “No these are the suggested prices.” Me: “….No. These are the prices. If you’d like to see the museum you have to pay the appropriate admission price.” Guest: “So these are the suggested prices then.” Me: “NO. You HAVE to pay the admission we have listed here or you can’t come in. They are not suggestions.” She left.

Local police called us to say that people are walking through some dog poop and were spreading it all over the sidewalk by our museum. She wanted us to go powerwash the sidewalk. The sidewalk is city property not the museums. Its’ technically not our job to do that. She got furious when we said we couldn’t do it and they actually came over and yelled. Our boss had to tell her no. Eventually the head of security went out to look and said there was no poop anywhere so he didn’t know what their problem was anyway.

People ask to see objects or exhibits we haven’t had in 40 years or that we have never had period and get angry when I tell them they’re either aren’t here or are no longer on display. The most common ones are: “Where’s the Fabergé egg?” (never had one in the museum ever) “Where’s the mummy?”  (we are not a natural history museum nor do we have anything to do with egypt) “Where are the dollhouses?”   (the dollhouses were on exhibit 35 years ago) “Where are the dinosaurs?”   (again. not a natural history museum)

Guy complained because when he went to our living history site (an old farm) and his newly washed car got dirty, the walk was “dangerous” because it was not paved, there were a lot of people and no exhibits. ……..It’s a farm. Of course it’s dirty and you walked on grass. And there were tons of people because you attended one of the biggest events of the year there. And the exhibits are the buildings and trades you see. What did you expect?

Guest: “The carousel isn’t moving, is it open?” Me: “Yes it’s open.” It’s not moving because no one is there to ride it right now. It’s not always moving. Be kind of hard for new riders to get on.

The employees had a training session for customer service and one of the sections was on service animals. Once the speaker told us a miniature pony could be a service animal we all latched onto it and could stop talking about how much we’d love to have a pony in the building. This went on for days after the training session ended.

Guest comes up to me and tells me that a couple of the women’s stalls are “quite nasty”. I go and tell my boss and the head of maintenance. HofM comes out of the restroom and says, “Why did you make me do that?! Who does that to a toilet!” Turns out someone ahem…missed. I refused to “investigate” for myself. Later he walked by my desk again, said “apparently someone doesn’t know how to use the bathroom correctly”, shuddered and left. 

Guest once spent 10 minutes telling me about his toothache

The joke every elderly man tells when they buy admission: “I’d like one child ticket please!”  [insert fake laugh here]

Guest: “I’d like to renew my membership.”  Me: “Awesome! Just fill out this form and what level are you renewing?”  Guest: “Idk can you look it up?”  Me: “Well it depends on how long ago you had your membership”  Guest: “Let me look on my old card”  The membership cards tell you what the level is. 

The many children who run under the barriers, climb into the antique cars, and move the steering wheel like it’s a toy as the parents watch and take photos. 

The grown adults who reach over the barriers and touch the tires or honk the horns. HONK THE HORNS! The whole museum can literally hear you doing that. It’s a car horn!!!

One of the brides who rented the Mansion garden for her wedding wanted to bring a live horse into the museum so she could ride it out after the ceremony. 

Questions asked by drunk people on the carousel: “Which horse is fastest?”, “Can you make it go backwards?”, *reaches out into my booth* “Let me use the microphone”, “Can you make it go faster?”

I once had to kick a guest out of the carousel pavillion during a party because she was so drunk she couldn’t walk a straight line, lost her shoes, and was spitting on the floor. Guess who had to clean up her saliva…

Each admission has a brick hidden somewhere under it. We call it a “Security Brick”

Birds get inside the museum all the time. We now have a club for anyone who manages to catch one. I’ve caught one myself. It’s always fun watching newbies freak out when another one comes in. I want to get shirts made.

One client who rented the museum was so offended by the “naked” cherubs on the carousel that we had to figure out a way to cover up their “boobs”. We draped rainbow scarves over them.

Here’s to all the wonderful guests who have given me some interesting conversations, hugs, thank you’s, patience, and the opportunities to leave my admission desk and give them short tours full of enthusiasm. I treasure those moments

#stephs stuff #museum life #working in a museum #working gal