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pbandjesse · 6 months

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My voice is not all the way back but it's so much better. I am really hoping it is just going to keep getting better. I have found that if I don't use it for a while, when I go to talk it takes a moment to work back up. But at least I could talk today.

I did get woken up last night a few times with my stupid pathetic cough. But when I woke up for real I didn't feel to bad. I got up and got dressed. Hugged in James while I brushed my teeth. They would leave before me. I would finish up gathering me stuff and headed out.

It was a nice drive in. And it wasn't as cold this morning. It would be a really beautiful beautiful day. Concerning for mid November. But beautiful none the less.

I spent the first bit of the morning just eating my sandwich and thinking about what I'll do today. Heather had texted us last night and asked for us to go and sweep the lodge before Bonnie and Jeff came in to deep clean.

So once I was a little bored I walked over to the lodge and put on a podcast while I made like a dozen piles of dirt and dust.

As I was finished making the piles Sarah drove up. She would dust all the piles into the dust bin while I did another once over. And then she drove us back to the office.

It was a fun day though. Once we got over there I would start working on designing different murals and posters for around camp. There are so many signs that need to be updated or are just blanket and need to have something put on them. It was a really nice time just getting to create something fun and pretty.

While we were over st the lodge Sarah found that the rental group has left 4 huge crates of lettuce and kale. Wild. So Heather would get in contact with the local food bank and at 1230 I would drive it over there.

Which honestly was fun. I was first surprised at how heavy the lettuce boxes were. I also found a broken ceramic vase over by the dumpster that I will use for mosaics. And then went to the food bank.

When I got there I wasn't sure where to go. I asked an older woman, told her I had food to give and she gave me directions. And then she was very excited to get some lettuce and kale and broccoli. The food bank said a lot of it will probably go bad because they don't have fridges but honestly if it just helped that one lady, it was not a waste. The old man I handed the boxes to seemed really nice and kept saying thank you. It felt nice to be able to help even if some of it still gets thrown away.

I went back to camp and was just on time to get ready to go on our trail ride!

I was excited to grt to ride a horse. I can't believe this is my job sometimes.

Heather drove us up to the barn. And then we all walked to the feild to wrangle our horses. I was riding Denton today. I think she was the one I rode last time too. He is a sweetie but he is also super food motivated and also will kick the other horses. So we would be at the back of the line.

I got to saddle him myself! I just didn't tighten the straps myself, Chloe did that. But I put the blanket and saddle on myself and that was really cool.

We rode for almost 2 miles, all over camp. I used a western saddle and it was very comfortable. I fod sure prefer that over English. It's the horn. It gives me something to rest my wrist on. And I had fun! Me trotted a little. I felt like I was in more control then I have been in the past. I got him to listen to me. He did keep stopping to eat plants but I don't blame him. It was funny to watch him rip full plants out including the roots. Silly boy.

Heather was in front of me and I had enough voice to tell questions at her about stuff we were seeing. Structures and signs and such. It was a fun ride.

The last ten minutes were a little rough. I think a half hour is my limit in general. When we got back I was surprised how wet the horses were. Sweaty! I brushed Denton a bit. And once we got all his accoutrement out away we went to the field again where Chloe hosed them all off. And then they would roll around on the ground and I enjoyed watching them run! It was like the zoomies! So cute.

Heather drove us back to the office. And I spent the last hour and a half working on another poster. We also had a meeting about camp projects and made a bit to do sheet. Then me and Sarah assigned ourselves to projects we could do alone, together, or needed office support for. I am going to rewrite it a bit so it's not all over the place but at least we have something to focus on. And I like how big the poster is.

My allergies were kicking off from the horses though. Just sneezing and wheezing. So I went to take 2 allergy pills. And I accidentally took an allergy pill and a melatonin. I like realized it as it was happening but couldn't stop it. I knew that usually melatonin hit me after a half hour. So sitting there working on a painter about a bee I was a little. Zonked out. But I had to hold it together.

At 4 I got myself together. And said goodbye to everyone. I am back on Tuesday.

The drive home was tough. My eyes wanted to close so bad. Not just because of the melatonin. The sun was just absolutely in my eyes. But I got back. And immediately put my jammies on.

James came home as I was laying down. They would record their podcast before they went to the football game. So I would sleep. I fell asleep so fast and it was good.

My alarm went off at 630. James was finishing their recording. They would make me some spaghetti. Which made me feel good. I thought maybe I would do some sewing tonight but it wasn't in the cards. Just not feeling it.

Tomorrow is a big sewing day though. I have my first workshop with creative alliance. 15 kids are signed up now! I'm hoping my voice continues to improve so I can't easier lead my class.

I would get some more of my materials and things together. Pulled out my poster. I still need to get my white sewing machine set up. But I dont have to be there until noon so I have the morning to double check everything and get myself together.

Now though I think I will take a shower. James is going to be at the game for a while. I hope they are having the best time.

Wish me luck tomorrow. I love you all. Goodnight!!

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hungryyheartarchive · 1 year

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❝ you’re a morse now, buddy. one of us. ❞

doesn't feel all that long ago that conrad was lost.

lost, and near enough ripped apart after one of a hundred attempts to drive him out of the city - a city he had sought refuge in, since they had already banished him from new york. bleeding from the head, and ears, gashed between the shoulder blades, and his clothes hanging from him in shreds; it had been decided by the others that he needed to be stripped of this fradulent identity he stubbornly clung to before he took it upon himself to expose his wild roots. and that really would be a bloodbath, they thought, as they piled on him, slicing into him with teeth and blade and whatever rusty instruments they had at their disposal. talk about a warm welcome to delco.

so it was was not his choice, that draughty potting shed, one of about ten belonging to a community garden, but to shelter among humans was his only option, even when the others had tried to poison him with notions that he was dangerous. three nights he spent alone. three nights of feeling the skittering paws of mice running over his legs, listening to sirens in the streets and the howling of dogs, and a wind almost as lonely as he was whistling through the holes in the roof. ignoring the hurt and the need to lick his wounds, because he didn’t deserve it, to a greater success than he could ignore the gnawing, agonizing hunger, which might’ve consumed him in the end, had it not been for her.

a whirling vortex of sheer rage. she had come all guns blazing, as she was wont to do, more furious about kale than anyone in history had ever been. (kale was the lamest plant one could be assigned to in the community garden. she seemed unable of taking the responsibility of its care as anything other than a direct attack on her personal character.) she had found him when she had been looking something else. her reaction to his discovery would set the standard for the way she would regard him for the rest of their lives. he was an irritation, because he was a dirty, dying boy, and not the spade she needed. how dare he?

she supposed it was up to her, then, seeing as he was too useless to do it himself. she took a damp rag to his wounds, and she brought him a new set of clothes, thinking that she could at least make him look a little less disgusting, although after close examination she had to break the sad news that not much could be done for his face.

against her better judgement, she found herself visiting him even when the kale didn’t need tending to.

they skipped the small-talk and the introductions. she didn’t care much for knowing who he was or how he had gotten himself here, at least not in the beginning, when there was much more important matters to discuss - like the utterly ridiculous reason for why she had been given detention that week, or how on earth she was expected to read four entire chapters of a biology textbook when there was a double-bill of miami vice on tonight, or how she was supposed to convince her dad she was old enough to get her ears pierced when he would simply not listen to reason.

it was like having a pet, sort of. someone to complain about, to fuss over, to confide in. and nothing about the matter of his husbandry perturbed her. when it became impossible to go on without, she was just glad she didn't have to dip into her piggy-bank savings to feed his stupid ass. her dad’s van was full of dead stuff and it was all free. the only stipulation she had was that he had to prove he was what he was implying he was. a bolt of cold fear shot up his spine when he realized he ran the risk of losing her trust, which he had shortly come to see as the only thing worth living for, and that fear was gracelessly shoved aside when she grabbed his face, yanked his jaw open, and prodded at his teeth. "oh, yeah," she deducted, bubblegum popping with a snap, idly tapping one of his fangs with a fingernail. "checks out.”

he can't stop staring at it. some muscle in his throat clenches as he swallows. shit. he has to make sense of this before she calls him something that will invariably lead into an argument and ruin this moment forever.

"some part of you will come to regret this, naturally," he reminds her, as he turns the bronze key over lovingly in his hand. “but at least i'm house-trained."

they have a language all of their own, these two. so he knows he doesn’t have to say anything because she’ll see all of it in his eyes. the surprise, and the wonder, and the thrill of having reached a much longed for conclusion, and the enormous adoration he has for this courageous, whip-smart kid, the one who saved him, and her father who (thankfully) doesn’t ask too many questions.

this is my key! to my home!

#WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH #obv this is my interpretation and we can sort out the Deets together if stuff needs fixed but where was i. oh yeah.#WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!#asks.#nabaidheanneonach #janet and conrad.

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mrskurono · 2 years

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#ok but #the thing is #fyodor looks EXACTLY like my hella toxic ex #didn't realize that until rae pointed it out bur #id like to rip fyodor's throar out with my owm teeth #even the fucking hate #my ex HAD that hat #if dazai doesnt kill him im gonna do it #hey at least i tolerate dazai...i feel like that's big for me 😏#kale.♡#three.talks

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

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For the Renji birthday prompt: A fic where Renji discovers that he can't go tits out anymore now that he's married (maybe with some jealous Rukia thrown in perhaps)?

I maintain that the new tits-in regime is self-imposed; I present to you my thesis. (I did not attempt to take on The Vest; I assume it came later, and I eagerly await more Vest Lore from Kubo himself)

Warning that I sincerely hope deters absolutely no one: This fic is about boobs. It contains many, many synonyms for boobs. Some of them are rude.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

---

“I’m telling you, you’re jumping to conclusions. Sometimes he puts them away when he fights. He told me this.”

“I haven’t seen them in weeks.”

“It’s been winter.”

“That has never stopped him before. And it’s April now. Open season. And yet…?”

“I think we should just ask him.”

“You can’t just ask a guy, ‘hey, where did your tits go?’”

“I could, but I refuse. Abarai’s aesthetic is his own business.”

“Since when?”

“Okay, he’s here, someone’s gotta do it.”

“Not it!”

“Also not it!”

“Matsumoto, you have to do it. You’re the one who talked him into letting them hang out in the first place.”

“I agree with Yumichika. Renji knows what he’s doing, and if he has decided that the puppies are off-limits, that’s on him.”

“Hey, guys!” Abarai Renji’s cheerful voice rang out over the din of the bar. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Just means you have to catch up quick!” Rangiku declared, pouring him some sake.

“No missus tonight?” Shuuhei asked.

Renji’s entire face went pink and he got the same moony look in his eyes he always got whenever someone mentioned his wife or his marital state generally. “She sends her regards and says I’m supposed to drink extra for her. She goes over to the Manor on Wednesday evenings now to hang out with her brother.”

“Have you actually managed to call him by his given name yet?” Iba asked. “Now that you’re related?”

“His given name is ‘Captain’ and I call him that all the time,” Renji replied snottily.

“So. Renji,” Izuru said, leaning forward on his elbow. “Are you doing something different? With your look? I feel like there’s something different about you.”

Renji’s face lit up. “You noticed!” He swung his head around, his long braid swinging over his shoulder. “I’ve started braiding it!”

“Oh, no, it’s permanent?” Yumichika moaned.

“That’s not new,” Iba scoffed. “You slept with it like that the whole time we were roommates. I just figured that you didn’t have time to fix your hair in the morning anymore because you were too busy taking care--oof!”

“It looks very nice, Renji!” Momo said sweetly, extracting her elbow from Iba’s rib cage.

“It’s different,” Renji glowered at Iba. “I braid it loosely at night to prevent breakage and lock in moisture. This is an action braid.” He wheeled on Yumichika. “And I’m only French braiding it for now, because it’s shorter in front than in the back, you know, because of the accident. Once I’ve grown it out to all one length again, I’ll just do a regular braid.”

“You could just cut it to the length of the shortest part and go back to the pineapple hair,” Ikkaku suggested. “I always liked the pineapple hair.”

Renji turned pink again. “Ah, well. Rukia likes it long.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the braid is… what I was thinking of,” Izuru soldiered on.

Renji sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “I got a new tattoo? A pair, actually.”

“Oh! Did you?”

“On your chest?” Shuuhei asked hopefully. A healing tattoo would be a good excuse to cover up.

“Nah, on my thighs.”

Izuru sighed. “Since when do I look at your thighs, Abarai?”

“I have good thighs, Izuru.”

“He probably just looks different because he’s so happy now,” Rangiku suggested. “By which I mean getting your back blown out every night.”

“That could be it!” Renji agreed cheerfully. “Oh, I was wearing a scarf for a while there, when we had that cold snap! Is it the scarf? Or maybe the lack of scarf? It’s a nice scarf, Captain gave it to me for a wedding present. He says a man of quality should own a scarf.”

“I give up,” Izuru sighed.

“Hey, jocks, what’s going on?” a new voice interrupted.

“Akon!” half the table chorused and Renji scooted over so Akon could slide in next to him.

“Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, sorry, I had an experiment I wanted to get finished up.”

“We were just talking about how there’s something different about Renji,” Shuuhei pressed.

Akon surveyed Renji for a moment. “Well, he’s got his tits tucked in for once. Aren’t you hot? You told me once you did that for ventilation.”

“That was very much a lie,” Renji clarified. “And I’m a married man now, my cans are closed for business. Speaking of which, Rangiku, fill ‘er up again, please, I’ve gotta keep up my wife’s reputation.”

---

Momo couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Out of their entire friend group, she was pretty sure she was the least interested in Renji’s… bosoms. There was a time… long, long ago when she had thought he was pretty hot stuff. She still counted him among her closest friends and favorite people, but had long ago come to the conclusion that big and beefy just wasn’t her type.

“Why, Lieutenant Hinamori! What brings you to my office?” Acting Captain Kuchiki Rukia leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. She must have been practicing, because the last time Momo had seen her do that, she had nearly fallen backwards out of the chair.

Momo sighed. “I have to tell you, this isn’t business.” Not exactly. It sort of was, in the sense that Shuuhei and Matsumoto (who apparently did care very much about Renji’s chest situation, so long as she wasn’t the one who had to confront him about it) had come over and dramatically draped themselves all over the Squad 5 couch and complained about the dreary state of affairs to Captain Hirako until he ordered Momo to go do some investigating.

“Good, because I have been filling out Nanao’s new skills-inventory-for-seated-officer forms all morning and I’m about to lose it,” Rukia said with an overly cheerful grin.

“We could go out to the yard and fight?” Momo offered hopefully. Maybe she could tell Captain Hirako that she got distracted and forgot to ask about Renji.

Rukia’s face fell a little. “Er, I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t today. Sentarou just made me this pot of tea, though. Do you want some? It’s lemon ginger, it’s really good.”

“Sure,” Momo agreed.

“So what’s up?” Rukia asked again, once Momo was perched in the guest chair, a fragrant cup of tea cradled in her hands.

Well, might as well just rip the bandage off. “I need you to know that I was put up to this by… you know. The idiots. The cowards we go drinking with.”

“Understood,” Rukia agreed.

“There is… some concern… about your husband.”

Rukia’s eyebrows shot up. “My sweet pumpkin pants?”

“I’m leaving,” Momo announced.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Rukia waved her hands, laughing. “I’ll be serious. What has that lunkhead done now?”

“This is so dumb,” Momo muttered. She cleared her throat. “He’s stopped going around with his bazongas hanging out all the time, and everyone’s losing their minds over it.”

Rukia stared at her. “Excuse me, his what?”

Momo made a vague gesture at her own chest. “You know. His… boobies.”

“That’s what I thought you meant,” Rukia nodded, her brow creased in thought. “Bazongas. I like that.”

“Not that I care!” Momo excused. “I mean, I agree, he should be allowed to dress how he likes, but you two seem to have a very equitable relationship and I said that I was sure he wasn’t doing anything that he hadn’t agreed to--”

“Hold on,” Rukia interrupted. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“You didn’t?” Momo asked. “He said he was keeping them tucked in because he was married now. We assumed it was at your request.”

“I didn’t even know!” Rukia replied. “I mean, I came home yesterday, and he was just--” she made a hand gesture like she was pulling her kosode open, “--completely out--”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Momo begged.

“Well, I tell you I had nothing to do with it,” Rukia assured her. “No one is more supportive of Renji acting slutty in public than me. Everyone knows I have that locked down, and honestly, it just makes me seem more powerful.”

Momo squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to punch Shuuhei so hard.”

Rukia rubbed her index finger over her chin. “It’s possible this came down from Brother…”

Momo whimpered, although, honestly, having a conversation with the other Captain Kuchiki about Abarai’s pectorals couldn’t possibly be more awkward than this.

“...or it might be… something else.” Rukia frowned. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“You will?” Momo asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I can’t promise to bring the jugs back, but I’ll make sure it’s just Renji being a doofus and not Renji hiding his anxieties under aesthetic choices or Renji being oppressed by his brother-in-law.”

“Thank you, Rukia,” Momo said. Rukia could be bossy at times, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Sometimes, Renji has to be bullied into taking care of himself.”

“You’re telling me!” Rukia exclaimed. “Thank you for caring about him,” she added warmly.

“For the record, I care about him,” Momo replied. “Everyone else just misses the view.”

“Noted,” Rukia replied.

---

Renji had his nose stuffed in his cookbook, which lately, wasn’t a good sign. Renji only owned one cookbook, an encyclopedic tome that he only cracked open when he was trying something new or otherwise wasn’t sure what he was doing.

“I hope you aren’t making that kale curry again,” Rukia noted dryly.

Renji jumped three feet in the air. “Aaah, shoot! Rukia! I didn’t hear you come in! I’m so sorry!”

Rukia hopped up on her kitchen stool and leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. “We’ve been married for four months now. You don’t have to greet me at the door every single day, you know.”

“Sixteen weeks, three days,” Renji replied. “And I can still be sorry about it.”

“Just tell me we’re having something normal for dinner, and I’ll forgive you,” Rukia replied.

Renji jerked a thumb toward the stove behind him. “I made oden,” he explained. “It’s simmering, probably’ll be another ten minutes.”

“Ohhhhhh, I love your oden!” Rukia stretched her arms across the counter and did grabby hands at his hands until he laced his fingers through hers. “Did you make enough for me to take some for lunch tomorrow?”

“Depends on how much you eat tonight,” he replied. “Your appetite’s been really hit or miss lately.”

“Yeah, well...” Rukia agreed. “So what’s with the cookbook, then?”

“Oh,” Renji said vaguely. “I’m thinking about learning to bake cookies?”

“I’m in favor of that,” Rukia agreed, although her mind immediately went back to the conversation she’d had with Momo that afternoon.

“I’m not sure this book is helping,” Renji admitted. “If I was any good at baking, it would be one thing, but it’s too different. I’ve always been better at learning stuff from other people. Do you think it would be weird if I asked Iba’s mom to teach me? She used to make these little sesame biscuits for Iba. I would always steal them from him. They were so good and he didn’t properly appreciate them anyway.”

“It would absolutely be weird, and I think you should do it anyway,” Rukia proclaimed. She paused. “But maybe you could wait a few more weeks until we tell everyone we’re pregnant so all your friends will stop asking me what’s wrong with you.”

Renji’s eyes widened. “Did your brother say something last night? Because he told me he liked the braid!”

Rukia snorted. “No. He’s worse than you are anyway, he’s been reading books. Please make him stop, if you can. Actually, I’ve been getting complaints about,” she circled a finger in the vicinity of Renji’s chest.

Renji glanced down, and realized that his kosode was still neatly folded up to his collarbone. “Oops, sorry! I told you I didn’t hear you come home.” He immediately began untucking it.

Rukia leaned her chin on her palm, watching his progress. “I realize that making emotionally constipated people face their feelings is usually your department, but it seems you’ve got something heavy rattling around in there. Wanna talk about it?”

Renji’s eyes slid to one side. “Talk about what?”

Rukia cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Renji heaved a sigh. “Do you remember that time, back in Inuzuri, the first time I used my reiatsu in public? When I blocked a lead pipe with my arm?”

Rukia almost choked. “What do you mean, do I remember it? Of course I remember it.”

“Well, not so much that, but do you remember afterward, when you said I was too big and mean to be a sneakthief anymore? That it was better to confront the world and show it what we were made of?”

“I do remember that. I did not call you mean.”

“You probably didn’t. It’s probably just something I thought about myself.” He looked pensive for a moment. “In any case, it was something I really took to heart, especially after we split up. At first, I just wanted to make myself as big and loud and scary as possible. I liked the way people shied away from me. Later on, after I started hanging out with Yumichika, I realized that walking around sexy could be intimidating in a different sort of way, and I liked that, too.”

Rukia had a comment for that, but she decided to just listen, instead.

Renji smoothed the page of his book with his fingers. “I don’t want to look scary anymore.”

“You don’t look scary,” Rukia reassured him. “You haven’t looked scary in a long time.”

“I want to do better than that, though,” Renji frowned. “Has your brother ever talked to you about his dad?”

Rukia blinked, surprised, mostly that Byakuya had talked about Soujun with Renji. “A few times.”

“I, uh, asked him what his dad was like. Since I never had one myself. I expected him to either blow me off or start bellyaching, like he does about his granddad, but he didn’t. He said his pop was very gentle and kind. He said he was a good dad.”

“Byakuya loved his father a lot.”

“Yeah, that was pretty clear.”

“I hope he finished by saying what a good father you will make, but it’s my brother, so I’m sure he didn’t.”

“He said something about how he was sure I would proceed in my own way.”

Rukia sighed again. “Renji, you’ll be a great dad. It’s super obvious. I’ve only told half a dozen people that I’m pregnant and all of them who aren’t Byakuya have immediately reacted with ‘Renji is going to be such a good dad.’ You don’t need to change anything about yourself.”

Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “Well, all my good dad instincts are telling me our kid is gonna wanna fight the world bad enough as it is, that the last thing they need is a dad who wants to fight the world, too. I’ve fought the world long enough. I’m probably never gonna be gentle, but I can try my best to be kind, and I can dress like a normal person in public for a change and… maybe I can make a cookie? It’s worth a try, I think.”

Rukia flashed him a sad, but fond smile. “You’re such a dork. A sweet, thoughtful dork, though, and I will support your experiment, even though you know I love your bazongas more than anyone.”

“‘Bazongas’? Oh no, did those assholes make Momo come and talk to you?”

Rukia shrugged and tried to look innocent.

“Anyway, you’re my wife, I will take them out for you whenever you want.”

“Yay!”

Renji furrowed his brow into its “determined” configuration. “Do not get me wrong. I am actually upping my chest day routine. I am going to keep them immaculate, and when my shirt gets ripped off in a fight, people are going to lose their minds over how lush my boys are.”

“I love you so much,” Rukia replied.

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #this was a lot of fun i got to use all my favorite horrible synonyms for da tiddies #ok maybe not allll my faves

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awigglycultist · 2 years

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Alright like last time I hit post limit and couldn't live blog I started writing my thoughts down on docs in real time whilst watching so I could post later, so here:

HES NEARLY 41!?

Cereal!

Hes such a brat

BECKY BARNES

Shelia is a Karen

“Dont you dare gaslight me” his teeth are FINE stop overreacting

Frank the moneys not worth it divorce that jerk

Peter Pan!?!?

I wanna say “yes frank! Stand up! Good for you!” but this isnt gonna end well is it?

Oh yup there he goes. A trap door in the ground.

“Goodbye daaddyy”

Ofc theres others, I wonder how many men exactly has she married and done this to?

Oh no oh no oh no

MIAH????????????

BERRY SWIFT?

Im just omg. BERRY. AHH.

Honey festival mention!

Looking for a new daddy already…

"onliNE?"

Wait is the feast or famine playing in the background?

Frank giving the food to Barry :)

DONT SAY YOURE GONNA DIE I DONT NEED ANGST FOR YOU PLEASE

HELEN?

“No matter what Im always gonna be youre……..daddy”

Wait so if he’s been down there for 2 weeks with toyzone closed whats Lex doing

Sherman dont go to your mom about it just let him out!

BARRY BARRY NO BARRY NO NO NO BARRY

TED

WAIT NO TED OH NO NO LEAVE TED ALONE

“You are a married women” “Hey works for me”

“Dont sass your mother or ill kick your ass old man!”

NO NOO WHY DOES TED ALWAYS HAVE TO GET SHOT WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DIE

OH GOD THAT MEANS PETER COMES BACK FROM CAMP AND TEDS DEAD STOPPPPP

Including homeless man Ted has died 7 times i think jeez

The gift?!?

Barry :(

Rip Marco

I hate her but she does look hot with a gun gotta say

BLACK BOOK

STARRY CHILDREN

Okay so Hatchetmen hate the witches and the starry children hate the hatchetmen right?

Yup stealing their lives

1920….. 1920

LIB!

Goat! Tentacles!

And I truly feel all lords in black in the chile's tonight

Omg sherman drew ontop of the black book

Omg he memorised the words and drew over it on purpose-

Bye bye milf

Ope hes 7

Poor frank that'd be toutre

Its not really forever tho technically bc frank will die eventually it'll just be for the rest of frank's life...

-killer track-

LOOK AT THEM

HELLO

Dangit Thrash is a jerk

Oh hes threatening to kill now

“YOU THINK I'M AFRAID TO DIE?” Clearly a gen z

“Lets go to Dennys >:(“

Thats Rose!?!?!!!!!

Yes it is Kale!

Oh god hes gonna show her the killer track isnt- yup

I don’t like you so much Kale

STATION WAGON? THAT MEANS DUKE

THERE HE IS MY BOY

“Well i dont know ive never done drugs duke!” “...I know.."

Just missed a little chunk bc of my dad but Duke my beloved and poor Rose

“Is it unbelievable? Yes. but this Hatchetfield”

Specialist… Holloway here we come

Miss Retros!

“Hiya Duke!” “Heya Darlin!” hngg

“Great. My life is in the hands of Barbie”

“Make me.” “...alright.”

A glass with a spiderweb inside

Thrash said he sold his soul to satan to get famous hfjhdkfj

Omg the black book! its so cool!

TINKY TINKY TINKY TIME TRAVEL HNG AHHHHHH EVERYONE SHUT UP also “The Tinker” ooh

Also so are there a few verison of the black book?

Ooh holloway is in Rose’s body

Oh theres taco bell

Holy crap. This song. Wtf.

Okay great rose never heard it now….but holloway did right?...

Oh god yeah she took the curse

Dukes face :( hes so sad and concerned

“Your phone” yeah her very super recent new phone…

“If its a ghost. I'll trap it in this jar.”

“If something happens to me i want you to read this” i really wanna know what it says but i DO NOT want ANYTHING to happen to her

Duke has watch right that down RIGHT THAT DOWN

Hey wait a second how come Kale has heard it hasn't died I mean at least i assume they've heard it before, did they make it?

HOLLOWAY :((

OH GOD NO ITS COMING FROM DUKE AND ROSE OH NOO NO

“dont worry im not going anywhere :)” oh god

“Holloway? What are ya doing darlin?” :((

“I understand” …..ominous

Dead. shes dead great. Ofc.

Duke :’(((

HNGGG I LOVE THEM SO MUCH STOPP DUKE ROSE WHY THIS IS MAKING CRY STOP BEING SO SWEET

‘You were in love with her werent you” “who wasnt?”

DUKE HAS A CAT

The envelope oh boy

“Welp. guess im dead!”

Wait about 2 hrs??

DON'T CALL AN AMBULANCE OR SEND ME TO THE MORGUE OH GODDD

“I was in love with her” “ya you and everybody” they really get the fans huh

Shes alive!

“Duke. what did my note say!?”

Ooohh the whole town knows about her dying that why she couldn't do to the morgue

Rip duke hes so confused

“It just HAD to be the jukebox”

Yes yes lore dump here we go! Learning more about Holloway!

Wait what.

HEY HEY WAIT KNOW GOOD JOB OF PROVING YOUR MAGIC IG BUT I WANNA KNOW THIS STUFF

This isnt first time shes told him?

Oh shes not making him forgot?

Oh god poor holloway

Omg the honey festival-

Oh are we actually seeing them going to honey festival

The mayor!!

Omg i cant wait to see how the stop the song. Like i KNOW itll be stopped we already saw the festival but like i CAANT WAIT

Oh trust me mayor… this will be a night to remeber for everyone…

HAHA HIS MIC WASN'T OFF

HAILEY

HAILEY MADE ZOEYS VOICE WORSE ON PURPOSE?

TED!!!

“At the point ill never get married. Be daddy.”

DEB AND ALICE AHH AND ALICE WAS IN NEW YORK OOH

Jkdfnjdfnj rip duke

God i love seeing everything connected and all these people together

Needy Beasts!

Oh no Kale

And Kale killed the audio guy

Oh poor Kale

OH NO ITS PLAYING

Ooh Holloways playing over it

Oh i love this

DUKE AND HOLLOWAY TOGETHER :))))

OH THEY FORGOT IT OOHHHHH AND THATS WHY THERE WAS ABSOTULEY NOTHING WITH KILLER TRACK IN HONEY QUEEN

DUKE

“The lanky goon”

Oh wow i understand why duke punched kale but im still surprised he’d every punch anyone

Oh oh no Kale oh no

OH GOD KALE

Aww Duke going on about him being the hero so proud of himself not knowing hehe

Oh a new persona? I wanna know all about her personas

Nooo dont say everyones gonna forgot about miss holloway noo dont :((

Shes gone :(

AND HES FORGOTTEN :(

HOLLOWAY or whatevr her new persona is

I literally missed the entrie convo between them bc of my dad

This songs a bop tho

THE BECKY BARNES BIT WITH THE IRISH ACCENT TOO AHAHFEFNSKLDJF

Paul is dead records?? Director Barry Swift??

Okay go the replay: I love Duke and… Holiday so much.

Alright so we're assuming that the girl that got hurt in shop class is Lex right? There's been the theory that Yellow Jacket is about Lex and I sure hope so so we can see what happened to her after Frank just disappeared for two weeks and what may have happened in shop class

She's a counsellor! The only school counsellor I'd trust!

Hey. Hey. Wait. Ofc this isn't Holloways first time changing persona. I wonder if Duke has met personas of her before, he probably has, I wonder how many times? Oh God this episode made be so emotional

#starkid #hatchetfield #nightmare time #nightmare time season 2 #nightmare time 2 #nightmare time spoilers #nmts2 #nmt2 #nmts2 liveblog #nmt daddy #nmt2 daddy #killer track

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

This chapter contains canon typical violence, smut, mentions of blood, major character death.

Small Time Witch (31)

It had been three days and you hadn’t heard from Loki. The little screwdriver around your neck was barely warm. His heart rate was erratic and sometimes barely existent. You were beginning to think Odin was right. You sat alone on the field where Loki would lead Thanos. You sat waiting for him every day.

The field was filled with wild flowers. You picked a few and braided them into a crown. It was warm and the sun kissed your skin making it glow. When this was all over you would re sod this field. The people of Vanaheim deserved to have nice spaces. While you were deep in thought you didn’t notice the presence until she was sitting next to you. She was always with you in some capacity. Always whispering in your ear. Begging you to follow her. These last few days her voice has been louder than anyone else.

“Took you long enough to show your face.” You didn’t look over. You knew what Death looked like.

“You’ve been waiting for me?”

“What’s to wait for? You’re always with me. Have been for the last ten years. Longest relationship I’ve had.”

She laughed, “I made you what you are. Shaped you into the person you’ve become. I’m here to see my creation’s first steps.”

You sat quietly enjoying the breeze together. You set the crown on her head. She smiled for a moment then the followers wilted. She frowned and plucked off the crown and set it in her lap. You hovered your hand over it springing it back to life.

“Is this what you envisioned when you fucked with my life? Did you put me here so that I could fight your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Semantics. You love him.”

“I do. I’ll take him with me today.”

“You’ll take him in pieces.”

“So violent. Unbecoming of a princess.”

“I’m not a princess.”

“Semantics.” She smiled showing you all of her perfectly polished teeth.

“Is Loki alive?”

“Barely. Thanos will bring him alive to the battle. Don’t let him get in your head. He knows you’ll be moved to save Loki. You have a job to do.”

“And when I do it, what side of the battlefield will you be on?”

“The winning side. Get some rest, my sweet. Tomorrow is going to be a son of a bitch.” She winked at you and disappeared. You knew what you had to do. When the time came you would be ready.

——————————————————————

The eve of battle. Everyone was antsy. You could practically smell the adrenaline. It’s thick fog choked you when you walked into a room full of people. You made some modifications to your plans which involved magic you could barely do, The Ancient One, Auntie Agatha and Wanda. You had to get Loki away from Thanos as soon as they land. You had to strike fast and hard. They were prepared.

You sat alone at a table ignoring the merriment. You almost didn’t notice your coven and Wanda filing in. They held hands and your mother and Helene rested their hands on your shoulders. Frigga stood behind you making you the center of the circle. They invoked Hecate and Diana to be by your side. “May your magic be strong and your resolve stronger.” Helene chanted.

“And may Thanos know who is the baddest witch in every known universe.” Agatha chimed in.

“Blessed be!” they all cheered.

“Ladies, tomorrow, please aid in evacuating the outlying villages. I don’t want innocent lives lost. Lana, Constance, Margot and Flora, you will stay behind with several of the light elves to keep the palace grounds protected.”

“Why does the new girl get to go to the battle grounds with you?” Constance whined. Mobius was right. It should have been her.

Before you could answer Agatha chimed in, “When you have magic as powerful as Wanda you can fight the aliens. Keep practicing, sweetheart.” You almost spit out your wine you were laughing so hard.

The little screwdriver felt hot against your chest. You could feel Loki. “SHIT! They are almost here!” You stood on the table and shouted, “Shut up! Everyone shut the fuck up! They’re early! Get to your assignments now!”

Hilde fitted you with with armor and you all raced to your positions. Those who were going to Asgard got to the field and called for Heimdall. You kept your eyes trained on Steve and whispered a silent prayer that he’d be safe.

You and Helene lit up the field as much as you could with energy balls. Around the perimeter the Vanir set torches ablaze. Freyr joined you and the ladies to concentrate your strongest magic on Thanos to incapacitate him early. Hilde, Thor and Ororo were on guard as well.

Thanos’ ships landed spraying earth all along the front lines. Frost giants snarled and banged their shields. Thanos stepped off of his ship holding Loki over his shoulder like a rag doll. Just as predicted, Cull Obsidian and Proxima Midnight did not exit the ship with them. You called for Heimdall to show you. They landed there. Danvers added that the Nova Corps and the Sovereign reported Thanos’ troops on Xandar. He was punishing anyone who helped you. Tony said a ship landed outside of DC. Shield , Rhodey and the rest of the X-men were handling business there. You prepared for this and ensured that armies were ready in all the nine realms. No one was safe from this disease.

While Thanos walked down the ramp of his ship, his troops and yours held stock still and aching to fight. Your own plan was clear. Get Loki, kill Thanos, make sure Tony dies, snap the rest out of existence. You could not be shaken.

Thanos picked up Loki by the scruff of his neck. Agatha kept a hand on you. “Stay with us. No stupid mistakes.” she whispered to you. Of course, because he’s an arrogant prick, he made a speech.

“Look at you, hiding behind your wife’s skirt. Your weakness is disgusting. How easy it was to sway you to my side. You are a failure.”

“I am a god” he croaked “and my wife is going to rip you apart.”

“Now!” You shouted and sent a beam of energy straight at Thanos. You had him on his knees. Pietro swooped in and grabbed Loki. He took him to Frigga and Njord then rejoined the fight.

Thanos screamed as his armor split and his weapon clanged on the ground. “Go, you idiots!” His troops mobilized and so did yours.

Just as you planned, the barrier went up when he called for airstrikes. The firepower from the guns could not penetrate effectively protecting your troops. Unfortunately also Thanos’ troops. Danvers and Valkyrie incapacitated the ships right away. The Ebony Maw had Tony in his grasp. Tony wouldn’t be able to fight him off. One of the Maw’s spikes penetrated the Arc Reactor. You heard Thor screaming for him. Hulk rushed to him and tried shaking him awake. He was gone.

You almost lost it hearing your friends scream for Tony through your comms. This time you didn’t shut them off. You deserved to hear it. Out of nowhere, an additional beam of magic hit Thanos. It was brilliant green and strong.

“Miss me, Pet?” Loki shouted looking strong. Frigga Njord and Maja worked fast to heal him.

“We’ve got him! Go!” You screamed to everyone else. You stopped using your magic and let the stones take over. Your whole body glowed and your eyes went white. You grabbed Loki’s hand and intensified his magic. Thanos was in complete agony. While Loki weighed him down with chains that sprouted from the ground, you rested your boot on his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

“This is over.” You snapped and his ships and all of his troops started to disintegrate. You got confirmation that they were going down everywhere. You knelt down next to him and got up close to his ear, “I hope you rot and I hope it hurts.”

Thor came behind you with Mjølnir resting on his shoulder, “Go for the head, Brother.” With one swing he delivered the fatal blow. His blood sprayed your face and body. You didn’t move until his heart stopped.

Death rested her hand on your shoulder, “I’m impressed.” Her voice was amused but you could see she was shaken seeing Thanos in this state.

“I knew you would be.” Just for good measure, you electrocuted his body until it turned to ash. You swept it all up in a little wind and dumped it into a box that you sent deep within Vanaheim’s core.

Death smiled again, “You don’t trust me to hang on to him?”

You chuckled, “I jumped time and almost died taking in these stones to save my man. No telling what you’d do.”

“Smart girl. I taught you well.” The two of you embraced and she shimmered away.

Everyone in your general vicinity was staring at you. You could hear a pin drop.

“What? We’re old friends.”

“Like in Harry Potter!” Lana shouted excitedly. You nearly fell over laughing.

——————————————————————

All in all you had very few casualties. The armies of the Nine were virtually unscathed. Your greatest loss, of course, was Tony. The crew from Asgard rejoined you. You gave them space to mourn privately. With Wong’s help, you expelled the Time Stone and gave it back to The Ancient One. They opened up portals for all Midgardians to return home. You said your goodbyes to all of your family and friends as they left. Your mother made you promise you’d be along to visit soon. You reminded Agatha you still had the Kale’s to deal with. You’d be home soon enough.

You made your way over to the Avengers to extend your condolences. You fashioned a vessel for his body to arrive safely back on Earth. They all shook your hand as they filed out. All except Steve who drew you in for a hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Captain. He fought valiantly.”

“Thank you, Princess. We know going into any battle there could be losses. He’s not the first friend I’ve had to say goodbye to.” That broke your heart especially knowing Bucky was alive.

“Does he have a family?”

“A girlfriend. His parents are deceased.”

“I’m so sorry again. Please, never hesitate to call on me should you need my help.”

“Thank you.” He followed Tony’s body through the portal.

Loki eyed you suspiciously. “Save it. I’ll tell you later” you groaned as you stretched.

“You are a dazzling liar, my little queen.”

“Oh, king of my heart, you have no idea.”

You went to the great hall with the intention of going to bed soon after. But, doing battle works up an aggressive appetite. You ate and drank until you were about to bust and then you drank some more. You were laid out on the table while Thor regaled everyone with tales from the battlefield. You nearly made it out when he suggested body shots. You and Loki declined but we’re far too entertained to leave the party. Hilde turned to you and smiled. You knew that smile. She just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Just one.” She jingled the shot glass in front of your face. You couldn’t resist her.

“One! Hilde, just one.” You took her hand which she pulled away. “Well where do you want it?” She unbuttoned the top two of her shirt. There were hoops and hollers a plenty. You shook your head and didn’t dare make eye contact with your husband. You sprinkled the salt in her cleavage, licked slowly, did the shot and went for the citrus wedge. She spit it out and kissed you. Loki’s annoyance grew almost to the point of anger. You pulled away with her cackling like a crazy person.

“Is that the face other me wanted?!”

“You are going to get me in so much trouble.”

“I certainly hope so.” She winked at you and went back to your friends.

Loki stood from the table and made his way to you, “If you are quite finished, I would like to take you to bed, wife.”

“I am so ready, husband.” He picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. You yelped when he smacked your bottom.

He was undressing you before you even got to the door. He pushed you against the wall just outside the great hall and slipped his hands into your waistband. “Mmmm. So wet for me, darling.”

“All for you, my king.” He was so hard straining against leather. It was nearly painful. You were falling apart in his hands. “If you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” You were breathless. Chest heaving out sharp pants.

“I want you to. I want everyone to know how I make you feel. You are mine and I want the world to know it.”

You cried his name over and over again when you met your release. He set you down smothering you with his lips. “Take me to bed or I’m going to pull out your cock right here.”

“Ha promises promises.” he says against your lips. You trail your hand down to his pants and undo the buttons. When you pulled him closer he winced in pain. You took your hand away and lifted his shirt to see he was still bruised and bleeding from a wound on his side.

“Lok..” the higher you lifted his shirt the more damage you saw. “Oh. Loki...”

“It doesn’t hurt” he whispered trying to pull you back in for a kiss.

“Stop, Loki. Come on. Let me get you to bed.” He followed you into the bedroom and you started undressing him. “No more illusions.”

“Lie down, Pet. I’m going to fuck you silly.” He lifted off his shirt and you burst into tears. “Please don’t cry. You said no more illusions. Y/N, I’m dying to be inside of you. I will go slow. I just need to feel you wrapped around me.”

“God. I can’t believe you, Loki! You could have killed yourself. Look at you! You’re still bleeding. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“My love, I will only be hurting if I don’t get to fuck you. Please. Don’t make me beg.” You needed him too. For the next few hours you lost yourselves. There was no more pain. No more degradation. No more expectations. Just the two of you.

#loki of jotunheim #loki tv #loki of asgard #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki #loki (marvel)#witch #mcu witches #small time witch #marvel witches

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marvel-lucy · 5 years

Text

The Walking Disaster, Chapter 2

All chapters are on the Walking Disaster Masterlist

You know, I swear I actually did do OK after that. Adulting away like nobody’s business. A completely valid statistical survey (my memory) showed that in the following two weeks, I tripped less, remembered things more, successfully carried liquids, and didn’t contract any odd infections petting stray cats (don’t ask). I’ve got this.

And, get this, that’s all despite the fact I saw Mr Next-Door, the Angel in Apartment 4, Super Steve, Captain Fantastic. Yes, I adulted, successfully, in front of him. Twice.

Please, please, no applause, stop. (Now carry on a bit more).

First time I did it, it was Saturday. I’d got up early, been for a run, and was coming back with a faint dewy glow from the exercise, carrying a kale smoothie.

Fine, fine.

It was Saturday. It was about 3pm, I’d only just got up, I was still wearing Friday’s mascara, and probably Thursday’s too, and both had now become some kind of goth blusher somewhere down my face. I was carrying my groceries and I hadn’t brushed my hair. BUT, but, I don’t see this as a negative. I was the right way up, for a start. Last time I’d seen Steve I’d been upside down over a packing box. This time, I’d cleaned my teeth, I was dressed, and I’d cleverly packed my groceries so the celery and apples were nestling on top, while the alcohol and ice cream hid underneath. Clever, right.

My Dad always says the secret to being an adult, is faking it, and hoping nobody notices, so I count this is as full on grown-uppery.

I was standing outside my apartment, doing that awkward shuffle where you try and balance a grocery bag on one upraised knee, while you rootle around inside your bag for your keys – but hey, at least I had my keys, when the door down the hall opened and there he was again. He looked like he did get up early and drink green stuff, and run. He had muscles in places I never considered before, and this golden glow of health, as if he’d drunk some magic elixir.

‘Hey, can I give you a hand?’ He picked up the bag from my knee with one arm (you should have seen the biceps bulge. Full on hearteyes emoji here), leaving me free to fish out my keys, after a bit more digging around. I thought I’d better take the opportunity to try out this new thing I’ve heard of – conversation – introducing myself and so on. So I did, stuck my hand out, said my name, shook his hand, smiled. Like a boss. ‘Welcome to the building’ and ‘let me know if you need anything’, all that stuff. Got my door open, took the bag back, thanked him politely, went inside.

Admittedly, as soon as the door was shut, it wasn’t all great. The ice cream, sitting quietly at the bottom of the bag, covered in condensation and ice, had slowly disintegrated the paper bag. So as I stood in my hallway feeling all smug at my adult skills, the bottom of the bag ripped open and everything fell to the floor, with a range of noises from splat as the ice cream hit the floor and exploded, to crash as the hidden bottle of gin followed it, breaking into pieces, to Holy Mother of…! as I swore blind.

But I doubt he heard, right?

Second time it happened; he was with a friend. I swear, do they make these men in a lab somewhere? He was just as… well-gymmed as Steve, but dark and stubbly with a bit of a bad-boy look. Like he’d ride a motorbike without a helmet, or drink bourbon out of the bottle, or assassinate someone. You know the type.

All I was doing that time, was checking my mailbox in the building lobby. I’d opened the box up and pulled out a bunch of letters, and was sorting through them on the table underneath, before going upstairs. I heard some footsteps clattering down the stairs and glanced over my shoulder, to see these two men come down. I swear, the shoulder width on the two of them, I’m surprised they didn’t get wedged in the doorway.

I gave my sweetest smile to Steve, a little wave over my shoulder, and said ‘Hi Steve, how’re you?’ (too many greetings? Better over-friendly than under, right?). He blinked a few times, and he was doing this weird thing with his eyes, kinda looking down towards the back of my knees then back at my face, turning slightly pink as he did. Allergies maybe? Poor guy.

Anyway, he sort of squawked out a hello, then coughed, as if he was about to say something, but by then I’d picked up my mail, gave them both another wave, and headed upstairs. I heard a kind of scuffling and muffled chatter before the front door shut behind them, as if someone had clamped a hand over someone’s mouth and dragged them away. The acoustics in these old buildings can be so odd.

Funny thing about that day, later on I was just walking past a mirror, and realised my skirt was tucked up into my underwear. I mean, my underwear was clean – I’m not that much of a disaster – but it was my favourite pair, with comic book drawings all over them. Superhero pants, what’s not to like? I gave myself a little grin as I untucked my skirt. Lucky catch that I wasn’t walking around like that when Steve walked past.

So, there you go, two functional adult encounters with the Most Beautiful Man In The World. My crown as World’s Worst Walking Disaster might be slipping, but this is one trophy I’ll be happy to lose.

-----

@melconnor2007 @avengerscompound @kittyslove @badassbaker @phoenix21love @lbouvet @bellenuit45 @prplprincez @gingerrootknits@pineapplebooboo @feelmyroarrrr @avengerofyourheart @eyeofdionysus @hellomissmabel @learisa @mitra-k-w @imhereforbvcky @shaddixlife @iwillbeinmynest @amrita31199 @whatsbetterthanfantasy @pixierox101 @edward-lover18 @madcheshire89 @heartfulloffandoms @chipilerendi @kenya-17 @mckorni32843 @amandarosemire @rda89 @nyxveracity @sea040561 @mrsalh32611 @ruinerofcheese @callmebucky-doll @vintagepigeon @bubbasmom @sassycanoodler @ladylorelitany @natcad @thisismysecrethappyplace @mywinterwolf @moderapoppins @rinthehufflepuff

#marvel au #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers au #marvel fanfic

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deathduty · 4 years

Text

Dogs and Fish || Solo

Devon Carosella was a wannabe comedian. Every Tuesday night, he stood up on the grimy stage of his local bar to deliver a few lines about the nature of life that got only a smattering of chuckles and the odd bout of discordant applause. And every Tuesday night he would take the same dark alleyway back to his house because he was too lazy to walk all the way around, where the streetlights might have let him see what lingered in shadows. This Tuesday night, he delivered a joke that had actually made Deirdre laugh—though she couldn’t recall the specifics of it now. It was something about death being unfortunate, and the mere thought of that had Deirdre caught in a series of chuckles. Carosella had an adorably naive quality to him. The mediocre funny man up on a stage too large for him, making jokes he couldn’t even begin to grasp in the breadth of his short and pitiful life. Like dogs running in open fields with their tongues lolled out, blissfully unaware of their place in the hierarchy of the world; it was cute.

Death was not unfortunate. It was, by the very nature of it, something that evoked fate. What was unfortunate was the blood pooling out from under Carosella, crawling across worn pavement as if begging for some sort of attention it didn’t get in life. Unfortunate only because it ruined the bottom of Deirdre’s heels, something worth far more than human blood ever could be. Not that money mattered much in the grand scheme of things, but money could buy her a nice salad at the local vegan restaurant. Unless they started accept human blood in between blending kale and trying to plate lettuce, but she doubted that. And wasn’t that a funny thought? Maybe Carosella would appreciate the idea of a vegan restaurant that took payment in blood.

“Carosella, messy in death as you were in life.” Deirdre smiled, she thought he might find that one funny too—if only he knew how fortunate his death had been. She spared him the slow agony of a zombie splitting apart his abdomen until it remembered basic human anatomy and went for the skull instead. There was nothing unfortunate about something she’d knew would happen weeks ago. It was by the very nature of it, exactly what fate wanted—and something fated to be was never unfortunate.

Wiping the bloodied edge of her knife with the tips of her gloved fingers, a familiar sensation overcame her. Something like cold water dripped down hot flesh, droplets that fell down her spine and forced her posture into rigidity—a chill. And then the flash of movement in between foggy rays of moonlight. “And you’re the zombie that was supposed to kill him.” She hummed, tossing her knife between her gloved hands. “Well, you certainly took your time coming. I was getting a little worried.” In the end, Carosella was dead and it didn’t matter who did it—the zombie or her. But as the idiom went; two birds, one stone.

With a breathy groan, the zombie stumbled into the light and Deirdre grimaced at the sight of him. Moonlight had its way of making skin look pale, but this man could make porcelain jealous. His face was gaunt and his skin began to cling to his bones in unnatural ways. “You starved yourself,” she blinked, wondering if the answer to why would come to her if she stared long enough. He didn’t seem far enough along on his foolish crusade to deny himself a meal for Deirdre to think he might have been an annoyance, but he was far enough along that the light of recognition only burned dimly behind glassy eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. Here’s a meal. You get to eat. You’re welcome.” Deirdre shifted as the zombie stumbled closer, shakily offering a hand that had already started to lose layers of skin.

“I want to be human,” he said, a desperate quality to his gravelly voice.

“Human?” Deirdre nearly barked laughter back into his face. Now that was funny. If Carosella was still alive, she’d tell him to start taking classes from the withering zombie. “You’re a zombie. You’re the fish people keep in the tank because it eats the algae. You have far more value than a stunted goldfish ever could. Why in Fate’s name would you want to be human?” The answer fell in the silence between them and Deirdre knew what he was really asking; not to be human but to have his old life back. But old lives were pointless. An old Deirdre once cried for her only friend, unaware of what gift she had been given—so pathetically ungrateful. “You have a greater purpose, it’s better this way,” Deirdre spoke between gritted teeth, her words directed at someone she couldn’t reach—an old life that the worst parts of her still mourned.

The zombie only blinked back in response and Deirdre rolled her eyes.

She bent down, cupping blood into her gloves. Now, it seemed, maybe human blood did have some purpose. That was also funny, she was beginning to realize that a lot of things were. Deirdre rose, throwing blood into the gaunt face of the zombie. “If you can tell me that doesn’t smell good, then you can go pretend the worthless life you used to have is what you really want and—” her sentence was interrupted by the zombie’s growling, he flung himself at the dead blood and dug into pieces of flesh he didn’t even need to eat—simply desiring to feel flesh under his nails. Like a dog with a tissue, ripping and tearing just because there was some need woven deep into his brain. It was cute. In the same way him wanting to be human was, or Carosella going through life as if his days weren’t laughably numbered. All of them pieces in a design far more grand than any of their brains could fathom.

Death wasn’t unfortunate; death was a meal for a dying zombie, the desire of fate, the simple way the world worked. Devon Carosella was a wannabe comedian, he served more purpose in death than he ever did in life. Now there was a zombie with a belly filled and a banshee who got a few good laughs out of an otherwise dreary night. Death was just one part of the cycle; Deirdre served fate, Carosella served as food, a zombie served as the practical cover-up for a murder.

And what could be unfortunate about playing one’s destined part in that cycle?

#this was just the sample from the app but i fiGURED I MIGHT AS WELL #don't look at it though #solo #IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FISH NOT FROGS #don'T LOOK #stOP LOOKING #dogs and fish

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goddessofthundathighs · 5 years

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IV. ATTITUDE

Mad was an understatement. Pissed off? Infuriated? Embittered? Those were close seconds. On one hand, she had the incredibly handsome, incredibly irritating Dr. Stevens who was quickly becoming the bane of her existence with his smart ass mouth and uneffective therapy, and on the other hand, she had the equally attractive and equally infuriating Dr. Skylar Greene who seemed to be taunting her for her own enjoyment. Whatever the case was, O’Shea wasn’t feeling it and she was headed down to her favorite restaurant, Barton G, to give them both a piece of her mind. She arrived, clad in a black Fashion Nova jumpsuit, her natural hair slicked back in a long purple Thotiana ponytail, and some black and white Air Max. Today was supposed to be her chill day, but both doctors had her 50 shades of fucked up and they were about to know about it.

“About time you joined us,” Sky complained as O’Shea slid into the booth beside her. It was her lunch time and everyone knew how cranky she could get when she was hungry.

“Last time I checked, y’all were on my goddamn time and I’ll take as long as I damn well please,” Shea countered, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder.

“Yo, who the fuck you talking to?” the best friends asked in unison, a gesture that had Shea’s thighs clenching. She was used to seeing “Evil Erik” as she had started calling him, but Sky? There wasn’t a mean streak in her body, or so she thought.

“Okay Bopsey Twins, y'all ought to take this act on the road.. Answering in unison and shit,” O'Shea quipped still caught off guard by Sky's outburst. She had to say something to quell the sudden rise of whiney, bratty lust.

“You better chill with that attitude, Shea,” Sky threatened.

“Or what? We all grown. What, Mrs. Doctor Nigga?” Sky chuckled, beckoning the waitress over. She ordered double Hennessy and apple juices for her and Erik and ice water for O’Shea, in a child’s cup to be an ass.

“Why y’all get liquor and I don’t?”

“Cuz you acting like a child so enjoy a child’s drink,” Sky quipped, causing Erik to chuckle. “Learn how to watch your mouth.”

“I just think it’s funny how you referred me to this nigga, who just so happens to be your best friend, to fix my issue yet all he’s done is patronize me. It’s like y’all get a kick out of seeing me like this.”

“Girl shut yo emotional ass up. You’re a spoiled little sugar baby that’s used getting what you want when you want it and when someone deviates from that script, you wanna play victim and harp on and on about how you’re being misused and no one cares about your needs and blah blah blah.” Well damn, Dr. Nigga. Tell a bitch how you really feel.

“Nah, don't feed the troll, Erik. Let her do what she does. She'll learn. Sooner than later,” Sky spoke with a swirl of her glass.

“With all due disrespect, I'm a say this,” Erik continued stealing the floor in another rant.

“You hard-headed as fuck, disrespectful, and frankly, if it were left up to me you wouldn’t bust another nut for the rest of your bratty ass life. You had one job and you couldn’t even do that.”

“Sky told me to do it!”

“Bitch don’t lie on me. I said he wouldn’t know you used it if you didn’t turn it on. I didn’t put a gun to your head and forced you to masturbate.”

“I'm honestly feeling attacked right now and that's a problem for me because it's strictly emotional yet no hands are on my body. I take issue with this,” O'Shea said coolly eyeing the duo.

“And I take issue with women that ask me and my friend for advice, yet do the total opposite of what I tell them, so it looks like we both have some issues Ms. Powell,” Erik states, returning her stare.

“I can’t win with you two.”

“You can if you shut the fuck up and listen for once,” Sky said taking a bite of her salmon caesar salad made with kale instead of romaine.

O'Shea gasped, clutching her chest. Looking to the side, she scooted closer to Erik, placing her hand in his lap.

“Whatchu tryna do, lil girl?” he challenged, looking around at the crowded restaurant. O’Shea remained silent, letting her hand continued its quest until she reached the zipper of his slacks.

“Ah, ah, ah. This dick is for well-behaved little girls, and you don’t fit that criteria at the moment Ms. Powell. However, I think Ms. Greene has something for you.” As if on cue, Sky “dropped her napkin” and crawled under the table using her long green stiletto nails to rip the seat of O’Shea’s jumpsuit.

“Make one sound and she’s stopping, understood?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good girl. Eat your food and shut up.” He continued his meal as if she wasn’t being fingered like a kindergarten painting and she reached to the bread bowl to grab a roll, jamming it into her mouth like a gag. Ripping it with her teeth, her hand floated beneath the table to grab her coworker's hair, intent on taking as much of the good doctor's tongue as she wished to dish.

“Mmm, this kale shit is good Sky, but not as good as this lobster mac and cheese tho. These truffles hitting,” Erik praised with a mouth full of half-chewed food. Sky hummed her agreeance into O’Shea’s core, using her tongue like a makeshift dick, thrusting it in and out of her entrance. O'Shea wrapped her thighs around Sky's head pulling her in further as her eyes watched her surroundings. She wanted so badly to talk her shit, but she didn't want it to stop. She had received head before, but nothing compared to this experience. This wasn't your typical head, this was researched and tested head. Head that had been proven superior by 10 out of 10 test subjects. Skylar was a professional lesbian and if head was a sport, she’d be an Olympic gold medalist, having been eating pudding cups without a spoon since the 90’s. The sheer thought that the waitress could come back or other patrons could notice made her wetter than by the second and the hard stare Erik was giving wasn’t helping. He was enjoying the show, nasty ass.

“That shit feel good, don’t it?” Erik teased, those gold canines peeking from behind that thick ass bottom lip. Shea wanted to suck it.

“Who's better,” Shea challenged. If she couldn't get Erik to fuck her point blank period, maybe he could be lured through his ego. It worked, because as soon as the waitress walked away to fetch her an extra side of sour cream for her mashed potatoes, his body disappeared under the table and soon both of their tongues were fighting to wrap around her clit. She was in heaven, so much so that the faintest of moans slipped past her lips. It was meek, but he heard it and just as quickly as her double pleasure started, it stopped. One by one, both doctors reappeared from under the table as though they both weren't just devouring her pussy like starved slaves.

“She came twice for me, so I win,” Sky boasted.

“You had a head start, Princess,” Erik said, wiggling the face caterpillars he called eyebrows.

“You sound like a sore loser, Stevens. Don't forget who taught you the correct way to eat pussy.. Doctor.” Sky smirked smugly. O'Shea was still in a state of bliss having finally received her ever elusive release.

“Now that you’ve learned your lesson about trying me, we can continue this meeting. Erik has a conference coming up and he has a plus one. He wanted to ask you to be his date.”

“Of course,” O’Shea answered with no hesitation.

“Well shit, if that’s all it took to get you to chill, I would’ve let ya mind be present in my office the other day,” Erik said finishing off the lobster mac and cheese and ordering another helping togo.

O’Shea didn’t comment, her mind still stuck in the Ancestral Plane.

“How about we go shopping after lunch. Would you like that, Princess?” Sky teased, whipping out her card to pay for lunch. Erik quickly picked it back up and deposited it back into her Birkin before handing the waitress his black card.

“I ain't sell my soul for nothing. Let me get this,” he joked.

“Yes Mama,” Shea replied to Sky, catching them both off guard.

“Damn best friend. Maybe you should eat her pussy more often. She’d be much more tolerable.”

——————————————

@vikkidc @thadelightfulone @sydneebleu @trevantesbrat @monogamous-nympho @madamslayyy @chaneajoyyy @jozigrrl @thehomierobbstark @amethyst1993 @iamrheaspeaks @mareethequeen @forbeautyandlife @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @blowmymbackout @wakanda-inspired @yaachtynoboat711 @nickidub718 @heyauntieeee @princessstevens @bartierbakarimobisson @xaviera108 @alexundefined @raysunshine78 @dameshaemonique @laketaj24 @youreadthatright @theogbadbitch @bugngiz @amirra88 @post-woke @im5ftbutmythroat66 @blackpinup22 @beaut1fulone-blog @chefjessypooh @queengidiva619 @love-me22 @pending-lostheart

#vanity writes #erik stevens #my shit #killmonger smut #daddy erik #killmonger fic #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x black oc #carnal stimulation

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boneseasonofglasss · 4 years

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BLOG TOUR -Not Ok, Cupid by Anna Kaling

Hi Guys!

Welcome to my stop on the Not Ok, Cupid blog tour!

Thank you so much Headline Eternal for sending me this lovely book and including me on this blog tour!

Love doesn't always follow the rules...

Ally Rivers has three jobs, a disastrous dating record, and her gran won't stop talking about sex with eighty-year-old Melvin. Now her best friend Sam confesses his whole family think they're engaged. The longest relationship she's ever been in is fabricated, and her intended is gay.

Playing Sam's besotted lover at a family party, Ally discovers the hot gardener she's been flirting with is Sam's dad, Marcus. She even sucks at fake relationships. But Marcus is on to them and embroils Ally in another scheme - encouraging Sam to come out.

Scheming is not Ally's forte and, worse, she and Marcus are falling for each other. After years in an unhappy marriage, he's not letting Ally go without a fight, but she's torn between the best friend she'll ever have and the only man she's ever been in love with. Either choice will leave two broken hearts, and Gran will still have a more successful love life than her...

I have an extract of the book for you all! Hopefully it will peak your interest as it did mine!

CHAPTER ONE

Ally Rivers narrowed her eyes at the woman’s moustache.

One remaining black hair moved up and down as she talked, waving like an antenna.

Ally readjusted the lamp to get it in focus. ‘If you just keep still for a moment, Mrs McDonald, then we’ll be done.’

Just as she wrapped the thread around the hair, it moved. Mrs McDonald cocked her head to peer up from the massage chair.

‘You look tired. Are they working you too hard here?’

‘Oh, no, Mandy’s doing me a favour with the extra hours. I’m saving up for a holiday so I want as many shifts as I can get. If I just remove this last hair . . .’

As Mrs McDonald nodded, the hair glinted in the light. With her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, Ally leaned in for the kill.

Mrs McDonald frowned and cocked her head the other way. ‘It was Ibiza you went to last year, wasn’t it? Where this year?’

Ally sat up, trying not to look at the clock. Mrs McDonald had described the office she worked in, where she was the only woman and all the men sat in silence. It sounded nothing like the salon, with its constant buzz of chat and people coming and going.

Making small talk with her was the least Ally could do while she ripped her facial hair out at the roots.

‘If I win the lottery, the Caribbean,’ Ally replied. ‘But probably Ibiza again on a late deal. I’m not very good at saving.’

‘I bet you’re not.’ Mrs McDonald grinned and the hair disappeared into a wrinkle. ‘I was like you once, always out partying, always . . .’

Ally’s mind drifted as she flexed her aching feet on the tiled floor. After fourteen days of extra shifts at the salon, the café and the bar, she’d seriously considered wearing her fluffy cow slippers to work.

This afternoon she was finishing early. Once the moustache was vanquished she could clean her station, collect her tips and top up her tan in the park for the rest of the day. That’d be kind of like a holiday– sun, sea (there was a lake), sand (in the children’s play area), and . . . well, no sex, but there was an ice cream van. She could get one of those cider lollies that tasted like Barcelona.

And maybe on her way to Mum’s she’d buy some prawns so they could cook a paella together. With a glass of white wine and dinner on Mum’s patio, it’d be like an evening in Spain.Sort of.

She blinked back into focus when she noticed Mrs McDonald’s moustache had stopped moving.

‘Sorry, what did you say?’ she asked.

‘I asked if we could speed it up a bit. I have a meeting at twothirty.’

Ally flexed her feet and showed her teeth. ‘Sure. Just keep still for me and I’ll finish up.’

‘Ooh!’ said Mrs McDonald, as Ally leaned over her. ‘That’s a lovely necklace. Where did you get it?’

Not OK, Cupid by Anna Kaling is published by Headline Eternal. Available now as eBook and Paperback.

Abbie <3

#books #booklr #book blog #book tour #bookish #bookworm #headline eternal #publishing

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brett-buckner-the-dirt · 5 years

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“Quietly, I pushed the bedroom door open, expecting to see Samara oozing out from a sleeping bag like a mucus-covered grub worm, whispering SEVEN DAYS over and over again. Instead, I was confronted with a video for more horrific than any of the VHS clips from The Ring.”

It was a voice that pulled me from a restless sleep. It was soft and gentle – almost motherly.

At first, I thought it was a nightmare that woke me up … something about camping with a mumbling pink-haired teenager who shared in agonizing detail, every single thought that ran through her head; like someone had shoved a microphone in her brain, giving volume to her inner monologue.

“I’ve been listening to way too many podcasts,” I said to no one, save for the dog snoring in the darkness.

Plus, there was lots of tapping, like fake fingernails on aluminum.

My room is noisy at night. A notoriously light sleeper, I employ a cacophony to help me fall asleep and stay asleep. I’ve got a noise machine set rainstorm – complete with thunder – and my TV’s set on a timer to Forensic Files. I can’t hear it, but I can watch it. I also rely on a heroic dose of melatonin, all with varying degrees of success.

Yet something caused me to stir, and it wasn’t a dream. It was 2:28 a.m. Still groggy, I turned off all my devices, and lay in silence, watching the shadows dance across the wall animated by the TV flickering in Jellybean’s room.

Just as I was about to nod off, chalking the whole mess up to an overactive, horror movie-fueled imagination, I heard it again – the whispering followed by light tapping or scratching.

I could practically see little Danny Glick from Salem’s Lot. He was a newly reborn kid vampire, floating outside his best friend’s bedroom, enveloped in fog and still in his pajamas, pleading to be let in by scratching at the window.

I was seriously creeping myself out.

This is what happens when your world view is mostly informed by horror movies. And like the bimbo in a slasher flick, I went to investigate the disembodied voice. The closer I got to Jellybean’s room, the clearer the voice became. It was like hearing one side of a secret conversation.

“When did you get to the campgrounds? Yesterday? … I admire that you’ve been here longer. Have you hit the hot springs?”

I was all about busting in there, ready to catch her talking on the phone to some boy when she was supposed to be asleep. Then I realized, Jellybean was 11 years old. She didn’t like boys, let alone talk to them. She didn’t have a phone, and this wasn’t 1988, when kids actually talked on the phone.

Quietly, I pushed the bedroom door open, expecting to see Samara oozing out from a sleeping bag like a mucus-covered grub worm, whispering SEVEN DAYS over and over again. Instead, I was confronted with a video for more horrific than any of the VHS clips from The Ring.

It was ASMR.

ASMR is the latest craze to sweep across the intellectual cesspool that is YouTube.

“Autonomous sensory meridian response, commonly referred as ASMR, is an experience characterized by a static-like or tingling sensation on the skin that typically begins on the scalp and moves down the back of the neck and upper spine. It has been compared with auditory-tactile synesthesia and may overlap with frisson.”

That’s a Wikipedia way of saying, ASMR is supposed to be like a brain massage.

Nope. That doesn’t begin to describe how freakin’ weird it is, especially when it’s poisoning your dreams like Freddy Kreuger on Open Mic Night.

ASMR on YouTube is creepier than Momo popping up in an episode of Peppa Pig and makes as much sense as eating Tide Pods or snorting condoms.

But unlike those Internet hoaxes (Sorry Facebook worry warts, Momo is not trying to kill your children. None of those things were actual concerns until moral crusaders turned them into the latest version of Satanic Panic), ASMR is real, and Jellybean is obsessed with it.

As a side note, Jellybean, whose never seen an actual Momo video, astutely pointed out that Momo looks just like Shelly Duvall as Wendy Torrance in The Shining.

Mingling alongside parodies of Ariana Grande’s 7 Rings, 24 Hours spent in a Hot Tub Challenges, Avril Lavigne is Dead conspiracies and Most Savage Texts Ever videos are those dedicated to ASMR.

Here is an honest to God list straight from Jellybean’s YouTube viewing history, of some of the ASMR videos she’s incorporated into her bedtime routine:

ASMR – Lice Check

ASMR – Opening a Checking Account

ASMR – Mommy Cleans Your Ears

ASMR – Relaxing Hair Color Changing

ASMR – Dreaming Tattoo Parlor

I haven’t seen so many fetish videos this side of Pornhub.

Listening to these – for research purposes – with my eyes closed, I imagined Bob Ross – he of the “little trees” painting tutorials – talking over my shoulder, whispering a bedtime story, his beard tickling my ear.

I jump up screaming.

Jellybean swears AMSR videos are relaxing, but the damn things weird me out.

It’s not just at night where these videos creep in. Jellybean now ASMRs everything. We go to the bookstore and she’s flipping book pages by her ear. At the movies, she’s squeezing a Twizzlers wrapper, and at home … Sweet Baby Christmas, save me from zippers and Velcro!

I do find a sad comfort in the fact that Jellybean’s not alone in her obsession.

There are currently about 5.2 million ASMR videos on YouTube with YouTube searches for ASMR having grown more than 200 percent since 2015. On its own, a top ASMR video can attract over 16 million views, according to Google Trends.

16,000,000.

ASMRtists (Yep, that’s what they call themselves) use props, especially food products, to create the tingly effect – crinkling wrappers, chewing candy, cracking open cans. (A search for “beer ASMR” on YouTube returned more than 81,000 results … just sayin’.)

Sure, I don’t have to watch them and can easily ignore the tapping and whispering. But like a big, fat, hairy spider crawling across the ceiling in the next room, I know it’s there.

I could pull a Nancy Reagan and “just say no” to ASMR, demanding Jellybean find something else soothing to watch before bed. But unlike crack, there’s nothing exactly wrong with ASMR, other than annoying me.

Come to think of it, so does Flossing, face tattoos, gender reveal parties, ripped jeans, kale, and Logan Paul. Since those are all still a thing, I’ll just take ASMR like a shot of Goldschläger – grit my teeth, blink back the tears and wait for the nausea to pass.

There are worse things than being awoken by a teenager whispering about camping … actually going camping.

My ASMR Nightmare (and soon it’ll be yours) "Quietly, I pushed the bedroom door open, expecting to see Samara oozing out from a sleeping bag like a mucus-covered grub worm, whispering…

#asmr #freddykrueger #loganpaul #momo #thering #tidepods

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