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butterflydm · 1 year

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wot reread: towers of midnight (chap 27-38)

spoilers for towers of midnight

This gritted teeth reluctance of Egwene's, where she knows that they can't afford to face the Seanchan now because the Last Battle is more important -- this is the vibe. This is the energy. We need more of this when talking about the Seanchan.

2. Anyway, Egwene is trying to reach out to Rand's allies to convince them that he needs to be convinced to stop his plan of breaking the seals. This section works better than the earlier ones imo because Darlin, etc. doesn't know about the big epiphany and Rand's shift in perspective, so instead of another person reassuring Egwene that Rand is ~much better now~, we get a more measured response that talks about loyalty, and the Seanchan to the west, and that they all knew that the Dragon Reborn would likely go mad before the Last Battle so this shouldn't really be a surprise and he's still the only horse in the race.

3. They receive word that the watchtowers of the Borderlands are beginning to go dark -- a sign that the Last Battle is truly beginning. Egwene learns that the Hall is meeting without her, and goes to the meeting. After some Aes Sedai political wrangling, Egwene manages to get them to trade authority over the armies with authority in dealing with monarchs and rulers, aka Rand, who rules Illian. She also does some important loophole closing to make it harder for another secretive group like the Black Ajah to depose an Amrylin as happened to Siuan.

4. There is a certain amount of hilarious irony in Faile being hurt over Morgase using a different name and hiding her noble identity given the way Faile entered into this story (though Faile does realize this herself after a moment). But then she admits to herself that her real worry is that Morgase, as a fair woman, might fairly decide that Perrin really is a murderer, and they would have to deal with the consequences of that decision.

5. While a bubble of evil attacks Perrin's camp, Morgase and Galad are talking off in the Whitecloak camp. Morgase thinks about how she wishes she'd done a better job teaching Galad about shades of gray, so perhaps he wouldn't have been drawn into the Children of Light, with their black and white philosophy. She does her best to impart some shades of gray teachings to him now: good people can make mistakes sometimes and that's as important as knowing if a crime itself happened (basically that intent does matter when judging for a crime). She does not quite convince him, because... idk we need to draw out Perrin's plot more I guess. And the bubble of evil means that Perrin is asking for more time on his side too.

6. Okay, so Tam hasn't left at this point. But Perrin has been casually talking about how Elayne is planning to marry Rand*, which means it should be buzzing around the camp as gossip, which means that Tam should already know about Elayne when he first meets Min in Tear. There was zero indication about this in the Tam scenes in TGS but since it seems obvious that Tam should already know, I'm going to imagine/pretend that he talked to either Min or zen!Rand (once he returned) about these rumors about the queen of Andor wanting to marry Rand.

Anyway, Tam tells Perrin that he needs to leave on special ~Aes Sedai business~ but that he's proud of him. I guess that's nice. And then he leaves, off to go be in the ending of TGS and nearly get killed by his son. So that's where Perrin is in the timeline.

*this really does illustrate how infrequently Perrin thinks of Rand and how quickly he manages to dispel his visions of Rand compared to Mat, since he apparently has NOT been watching Rand constantly having sex with Min in recent months -- or maybe the ~Pattern~ just knows that Mat is more interested in seeing Rand during those times than Perrin is? Because Perrin actually DOES know Min and Elayne both separately -- he spent that winter between TGH & TDR spending a lot of time with Min and she even confessed to him that she was fated to fall in love with Rand (though didn't know if he would love her back), and he was in Tear when Elayne and Rand were together as well -- so you'd think that he'd consider what it might mean for Elayne's marriage hopes that Min stole her boyfriend, since he doesn't know about the shared love confessions, yet the only thing he mentioned as a potential objection to the marriage is that Rand might be too busy ~conquering his next nation~. I mean, I guess he could have been making poly assumptions but that's really the sort of thing that maybe should have actually been in his thoughts at some point, lol.

7. Haha, Elayne finding a loophole in the "required bed rest for a week" rule laid down by her midwife. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 ilu Elayne. Anyway, she's here to see a demonstration of Aludra's dragons! It's interesting that Mat explained to Elayne that Aludra's main motivation is to get revenge against the Seanchan, which potentially means that he told her about the Seanchan destroying the Tanchico chapterhouse and murdering & enslaving the Illuminators there. But, yes, the first public demonstration of the 'dragons' (aka cannons) is a success. After agreeing to give her all the resources that she requires, Elayne makes Aludra swear that she will keep the creation of these a secret, but Birgitte feels anxious about the idea of them anyway. "The world just changed."

8. Perrin's crash course in How To Wolfbrother: Dream Edition continues. This time, he's learning how not to be afraid of himself as Young Bull and how to confidently control the wolf dream around him when he's inside it. Over a handful of days. This is the first time Perrin finds out that this is the dreamplace of 'everyone' and not just wolf-related people. Hopper brings Perrin to a city so that he can walk through the 'fear dreams' of the people living there, so that he can do an accelerated crash course in How To Wolfbrother. And I do find all this wolf-development good but... wow, it feels so belated. Mat got his war memories in TSR and struggled with them over the course of TFoH but had basically accepted them by LoC. Perrin found out he was a wolfbrother in EotW and is only now finishing up his coursework in How To Wolfbrother.

9. It's interesting that the wolves are waiting on Dragonmount for Rand to face his moment of decision between destruction and life. We've only had hints of how connected the wolves feel to the Light & to the Dragon Reborn. Kinda wish we'd gotten more. One of the downsides of how Jordan kept dividing up the storylines and separating everyone, I suppose, plus the general theme of Team Light having rotten communication skills and keeping secrets from each other.

I really do feel like Sanderson rushed Rand too much in TGS and then idled with him in ToM and I think it would have worked better to have the ruthless Rand arc paced out more with the other characters in ToM rather than climaxing at the end of TGS. I'm also kinda... eh on whether or not we needed Perrin there ~in spirit~ with Rand on Dragonmount? I'm not sure we needed an outside PoV of this scene when we had an internal one already? I like the descriptions well enough but I am tired of always seeing Rand from the outside in ToM. But, anyway, Rand chooses life and the wolves all celebrate. It's kinda funny that the wolves are so into Rand and he... barely has any clue that wolves are related to the Last Battle in any way? I don't think anyone (Perrin) has mentioned that he's a celebrity to the wolves.

10. I am more than halfway done with ToM and I feel like barely anything has happened yet, lol. "Let's all catch up to Rand's moment of being awesome" didn't work for CoT and I'm not sure why Sanderson decided to repeat that again for ToM. There are definitely some chapters and PoVs that I am enjoying but overall this book feels like filler half the time, which is a WILD choice, bro.

11. Mat is dicing, and it seems to partly be a vibe check to see if his luck is with him (see, this is what I meant earlier about how Elayne's supernatural guarantee is more guaranteed than Mat's is). Strike nine-point-three as Mat notices the wide smile of a "raven-haired beauty". He is now preemptively telling (some) women that he's married in hopes that they will do the work of not being flirty rather than him doing it. Strike ten-point-three, as Mat regretfully thinks about how the innkeeper's wife is very pretty but her husband would assault him if he looked at her for too long so he only glances at her briefly.

12. He's been walking around with his face uncovered all day, hoping to draw the gholam to him now that he has a plan on how to deal with it. It works after a while and the two of them fight (in streets that are being kept clear by the Band keeping other people away). The gholam is able to get his medallion away from him, but Mat has borrowed two of the copies from Elayne and discovers that they still work against the gholam. Ah, and the secret weapon is finding a way to trick it/back it into falling into the Gateway created by one of the Kin. This is a good chapter, for the most part, except for some minor things here and there, that are mostly annoyances that were pre-baked into Mat's new characterization from Jordan in CoT & KoD. The gholam thing unfortunately does feel like it turned more into a personal vendetta, which I think is a shame, but I'm glad that channeling was an essential part of defeating it. Mat has, since parting from his slaver wife, now worked extensively with free channelers -- Teslyn saved his life against the gholam before, and it's Elayne connecting him to the Kin (who had to escape Altara to avoid being enslaved by his wife's people) that saves him here and helps him defeat the gholam.

13. Strike eleven-point-three as Mat notes one of the Kinswomen who is plump and pretty and would "fit nicely on his knee".

14. Yikes on bikes that Mat wants to give a slaver, who is hostile to channelers and who wants to torture and enslave them, a medallion that would protect her against channeling (though this plan of his does make an asshole move that Tuon pulls later somewhat ironic). Though he isn't aware of the copies' flaws, it sounds like, and one of those flaws is that they protect against some weaves but not against the most powerful, so Elayne could, for example, still balefire Tuon's ass if she were wearing one of the copies.

Also, I bet that Mat did NOT tell Elayne that he was planning to give her hard work to a slaver who would be willing to torture, degrade, and mind-break her if given the chance. Honestly, once Elayne does find out who Mat is married to, she has every right to feel completely betrayed by him. He used her to aid someone who would be willing to torture her and the people under her protection. And he's so deeply in denial about Tuon (thinking of her ~as a person~ as completely separate from her position ~as a powerful enforcer of slavery in a slaver society~ and behaving as if 'protecting Tuon' doesn't support the Seanchan Empire in any way -- this is the bullshit that his "your empire is my enemy but you aren't" double-thinking allows to him to believe despite it being nonsense) that it doesn't even occur to him that what he's doing here is a complete betrayal of the trust that Elayne has placed in him. And after Elayne saved his ass here too -- both with the copies of the medallion, and also because she and Birgitte are the ones who came up with this plan for him.

...I wonder if the medallion copies would prevent a sul'dam from using an a'dam, since (unlike the original) they do not allow the wearer to channel while wearing them. It seems logical that they would block the link created by the a'dam.

15. Anyway, Mat is basically pulling the exact same "I am on both sides and neither at once" routine with Tuon & the Westlanders that Gawyn pulled with the loyalist Aes Sedai and Egwene, so I can only hope that this means that Mat will come to his senses post-canon the way that Gawyn came to his senses and picked the right side once he learned that Egwene was imprisoned by the White Tower. There are a few easy ways that a post-canon narrative could make that happen.

Honestly, it's more likely that Tuon will grossly violate Mat's sense of morality past the bounds of what he can take than that she won't, given what we've seen of her personality and beliefs. If they have multiple kids in the future and Tuon raises them in the Imperial Seanchan way, Mat will rebel against having his kids sabotage and undermine each other to attempts to appeal to empress dearest; if he sees someone in a collar that he recognizes than this may bring things home to him in a way that it seems like he's forcing himself to ignore when the slaves are all strangers; if they have a channeler kid who Tuon tries to collar, etc. Lots of things could cross the line, and all of those things seem perfectly in her character as has been shown thus far in the books.

The interesting thing to me here is that Mat gets to fence-straddle without getting the fandom hate that Gawyn got for it. Is it simply because the reader got to know Mat for much longer before he started his fence-straddling ways in CoT? Is it because Mat has a more amusing internal narration so people are willing to forgive him for more than they would other characters? Is it because of who gets hurt because of the fence-straddling?

Gawyn's fence-straddling meant that he didn't help Rand during/after Dumai's Wells and he also killed some number of Warders during the coup. Mat's fence-straddling means that so far he's been complicit in forty Aes Sedai getting enslaved by the Seanchan plus an unknown number of injuries and deaths, and he's currently plotting to give Tuon a tool that would help her enslave more Aes Sedai (even if he chooses to be in denial over the fact that she could use it that way).

16. General Bashere and his army finally arrive with Asha'man to give Ituralde some relief. Rand shows up too, a little bit later, and apologizes to Ituralde for how he has failed in making peace with the Seanchan and in giving him the support that he needed. Rand goes out alone to kill a massive wave of Shadowspawn by himself.

17. Rand processes that he was angry during the recent fight with the Shadowspawn... and that that's OKAY. He's allowed to be angry as long as he processes and controls that anger appropriately and doesn't lash out at his allies. Very important step!

lol we also get updated on Min's Old Tongue prophecy analysis project re: Callandor. It's... lol, whatever. I guess it gives Min something to do.

Once again, I wish so much that we were actually in Rand's head and not just getting him filtered through other people's PoVs.

18. So Nynaeve has given a full report of her time with Rand to the Amyrlin & Siuan (who is clearly still one of Egwene's main advisors at this point? She's the only person in the meeting with Egwene and Nynaeve). She is capable of communication, just not with Rand. *sigh*

Nynaeve defends Rand here against Egwene (she says that if the Asha'man's behavior is Rand's responsibility, then the Aes Sedai's behavior is Egwene's responsibility), but was never willing to tell him anything when she was with him. The rest of the scene is them sketching out their plan to take out Mesaana (using Egwene as bait again). Nynaeve suggests working with Rand, but Egwene shoots the idea down.

19. Gawyn is just... casually hanging out with Elayne in Caemlyn? We didn't actually get to see their reunion? Well, that's disappointing. Gawyn guesses that Rand is the father of Elayne's kids and she mentions that if he is, it would be smart not to tell anyone about it, as it would make them targets. Gawyn and Elayne talk some various things through re: Rand and Egwene and, in the end, Elayne helps Gawyn let go of his hate of Rand. She releases from his obligations in Caemlyn, so that he can fully devote himself to Egwene & the White Tower. It's a sweet scene, honestly. It gets quoted sometimes as Elayne doing a Take That at Gawyn over classism but that's not really the approach she's taking at all with him.

20. While he's here, he takes out the dagger that was dropped by the assassin and examines it, getting a started reaction from one of the nearby 'Kin', who is actually one of the ex-damane (Marille), who recognizes the dagger and what it means. He finds out that the Bloodknives are Seanchan assassins who are sent personally by the Empress. Suicide troops left behind to murder Aes Sedai, in this case. They've murdered several women already, and those deaths are also ones that Mat is complicit in. We get a reminder here that "the Seanchan treated their damane worse than animals" as Marille cowers and whimpers when Gawyn's voice raises.

(And Tuon would happily do this kind of emotional damage to Mat's sister Bode, or to Egwene, or Elayne, or Aviendha, or Nynaeve, or Moiraine, etc. -- though that does remind me of how it, in retrospect, it does seem like the composition of Mat's party that escaped Ebou Dar was another deliberate choice to shield Mat from the true horror of what the Seanchan do to these women -- he has never met an native Seanchan ex-damane, who has had to reconstruct herself from the ground up after having been taught since fifteen or sixteen years old that she is a subhuman monster. But having someone like that around during the circus journey would have been an even stronger indictment of Tuon as a person and of her society as a whole, so potentially that's why Jordan avoided it)

21. So GAWYN gets to hear the explanation here that all sul'dam are capable of learning to channel, something that no one has ever gotten around to telling Rand. Kaisea, the ex-sul'dam (who was also Low Blood, it sounds like) that Gawyn meets here, is insisting that she belongs in the collar now. If Elayne is so sure that it will undermine Seanchan culture for this news to spread, then it's baffling to me that she isn't spreading the news! This should be a major (deliberately planted) rumor, especially in cities and villages near or across the Seanchan border (it's entirely possible that this was originally part of Jordan's plan for the Seanchan, before he decided to slow-walk them starting in CoT, for the sake of the outriggers that will never happen).

Gaywn learns that the ter'angreal rings that the Bloodknives wear gives them the ability to blur near shadows but it comes at great cost -- once activated, death will come to them, usually in a couple of weeks and at a month at the longest. Around now is when he gets the message from Egwene to return to the Tower. Instead of doing so, he has the knife sent back, with the message that the assassin is Seanchan (and the details of how they work). Also, just as the Seanchan declare their army Ever Victorious (and their empress ~may she live forever~) they also say that the Bloodknives are impossible to survive if you're their target. You can always count on the Seanchan to declare that they are The Best and Most Perfect at everything, despite the evidence being against them. From what I've seen in the books, the only thing they're actually 'the best' at is propaganda (though both of those traits -- claiming to be superior and only really being superior at SAYING they're superior -- are pretty common for fascist-style governments, so I guess that's all true to form).

22. Perrin is STILL planning to disband the armies that he has gathered (after the trial, before he goes back to Rand). wtf dude! I don't care if you don't want to lead them; hand them over to Rand and HE can lead them. He has stopped complaining about leading them publicly, at least.

23. Perrin has figured out that there's a connection between the weird dome in the wolfdream and the inability of channelers to create Gateways in that same area in the waking world. Oops, there's a section here where Faile's PoV becomes Perrin's for a few paragraphs and then swaps back to Faile's, without the normal spacing markers that the books use for PoV swaps in the same chapter.

24. Conclusion of the trial: Perrin "killed unlawfully" but did not "murder" the Children of the Light, because the Children did not have authorization to act within Andor's borders, so Morgase is treating it as a clash between two mercenary bands. Then she throws the sentencing to Galad. Galad asks if Perrin will stand by the sentencing, Perrin says that he will... but only after the Last Battle. Galad agrees to those terms and says he will name the sentence itself later.

(in light of our Dain Bornhald casting news -- this is the culmination of his own series-long arc, where he learns and begins to believe that Perrin was not responsible for his father's death)

24. Tonight is the night that Egwene plans to face off with Mesaana in TAR. They have their trap set. Egwene also asks Silviana to send Gawyn another letter requesting his return but to make sure that she asks this time instead of telling. Egwene would probably have had more success if she'd written the letter herself, lol.

25. The frustrating thing about the Whitecloak trial being the trigger for Perrin's character arc climax here is how he has committed much worse deeds since then and not regretted them. I don't care about the results of his Whitecloak trial. I want him on trial for selling two hundred women into slavery! Anyway, he's heading into the wolfdream to try to kill Slayer, while Faile is in charge of handling the retreat through the Gateways in the waking world. He isn't able to kill Slayer, but he finds the dreamspike that was being used to prevent Traveling and starts traveling north with it, so that his people will be able to leave.

26. While Nynaeve keeps an eye on the fake location for the TAR meeting that is meant to draw out Mesaana, Egwene attends the real meeting, which is between Aes Sedai, Wise Ones, and (for the first time) a handful of Windfinders. We know that Egwene's big goal is that she would like all women who can channel to be 'tied' to the White Tower in some fashion, so I'm guessing this meeting is going to be an attempt at making that work. The Windfinders describe the White Tower taking people in a very poetic way: "The White Tower inhales but does not exhale -- that which is brought in is never allowed to leave." And the Wise Ones are feeling some solidarity with that vibe.

Egwene agrees with this point and says that they may have been wise to keep their abilities a secret, but then says that the White Tower does have some knowledge that they do not... and they begin to work out a potential bargain. Accepted being sent to learn from Wise Ones or Windfinders... and apprentices being sent to learn from Aes Sedai and then being allowed to return to their people instead of being required to stay with the White Tower. It feels like she's taking the lesson that she saw with Nynaeve in the Testing here and applying it to the Aiel & Atha'an Miere. She also agrees that the ter'angreal that belong to the Aiel and to the Atha'an Miere can be agreed to belong to them, without the White Tower trying to snatch them away because they've declared ~all ter'angreal~ to be theirs.

27. They also talk here about the other 'common foe' that they share -- the Seanchan. That an alliance between their three groups will make it easier for them to stand together against the Seanchan. The bargain still needs to be ratified by each of the individual parties' people but it's a pretty sound one, imo.

28. Mesaana attacks the decoy location and, by ta'veren coincidence, Perrin's journey north with the dreamspike has led him to Tar Valon. And Gawyn manages to return to Tar Valon via Gateway right before the dreamspike arrives and cuts off the city.

29. Carlinya is dead OFF-SCREEN. She was killed by Mesaana off the page? That's so rude. tbh, I actually do wonder if maybe she was supposed to have been one of the women abducted by the Seanchan (due to the viewing that Min had) but no specific notes were left about it? While ravens are somewhat associated with the Dark One, they've been a lot more strongly associated with the Seanchan. But I do wonder if maybe the reason that ELAIDA was the named one who was taken by the Seanchan was so that the readers would be like "oh she deserves it tho" and not hold the Seanchan as accountable for their slave raid as they deserved to be, and as they might be if a non-hostile Aes Sedai were the featured one being abducted.

30. So Egwene, the Aes Sedai, & the Wise Ones are fighting Mesaana and the Black Ajah, while Perrin fights Slayer and Gawyn races to try to protect Egwene's sleeping body from the Seanchan Bloodknife assassin(s).

Nothing about this climax is impossible to do if Rand is still ruthless!Rand imo. He's not really related to what's happening here at all. Dragonmount could have happened after this and it would have been fine, story-wise. I'm feeling pretty strongly overall that it was a mistake to pull the trigger on Rand's epiphany back in TGS.

31. Perrin and his less than a week's worth of Accelerated How To Wolfbrother coursework vs Egwene's year-plus of training (since she started her dreamwalker training in the same book where Perrin & Faile got married, and they just had their anniversary), yet we're supposed to buy that he's become Epic Good at it.

I mean, Sanderson really was caught in a Catch-22 with Perrin tbh, because of how Jordan had stalled Perrin's character arc out. He is SO FAR BEHIND the other characters at the start of TGS that he kinda has to do this accelerated sort of character arc, where he went from driving in reverse to jumping ahead so that he could be with the rest of the pack but... man, there's just Too Much Perrin in this book.

32. The big battle: Gawyn kills the Bloodknives (proving once again that the Seanchan talk of being The Most Superior is just talk) but almost dies in the process. Perrin moving the dreamspike here trapped Mesaana in place; Mesaana attempts to use the same trick on Egwene here that Nynaeve used on Moghedien, imagining an a'dam on here, but Egwene is able to force the thought away and the collar off again (using, in part, the hard-earned control of being Aes Sedai, but also her Dreamer abilities in TAR).

But again, here, we have the reminder of how fucking awful it is to be enslaved by the a'dam, as Egwene fights her panic about temporarily being collared. So again, the narrative has not forgotten how awful the Seanchan are... in the plotlines of the female characters. Egwene is able to take Perrin's "it's only a weave" thought about balefire and turn it into "it's only a piece of metal" about the a'dam. And she is able to turn her will against Mesaana and defeat her permanently. When Egwene wakes up, she finds the bloody scene with Gawyn and the dead Bloodknives, and she bonds Gawyn to save his life.

33. The nightmare that Perrin pulled Slayer into is someone dreaming in terror about the Last Battle. Perrin seems like he's potentially realizing here the full gravity of the Last Battle in this nightmare? Maybe when he wakes up, he'll stop trying to send away volunteers who want to fight in the Last Battle. He's able to use the nightmare to destroy the dreamspike but has to flee before he can kill Slayer; with Hopper's last dying thought to him to "seek Boundless".

That seems like a good place to stop, since there's a PoV change in the next chapter.

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #towers of midnight #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #perrin aybara #egwene al'vere #mat cauthon

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mariana-oconnor · 11 months

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Silver Blaze pt 3

So, the last part buried my dreams of Silver Blaze cantering gaily across the moor, enjoying his new life of freedom and pony companions, apparently he is in the other stable (and hopefully being treated well by the guy in charge if only because he's worth something). But what really happened that night.

Also the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime is in this part, I believe.

Also, apparently the curious incidents of the sheep in the field:

“Have you noticed anything amiss with them of late?” “Well, sir, not of much account; but three of them have gone lame, sir.”

If someone has been practising how to lame a horse by laming sheep they are going in the special prison for animal cruelty.

Someone's been practising making animals lame on the sheep, haven't they?

Either that or there's a mysterious livestock-laming illness going around. What does foot and mouth do? (Apparently does make animals lame, but also has several other unpleasant symptoms, so they probably would have noticed that.)

But if Silver Blaze was ill, then having the horse 'stolen' so it couldn't run would probably be a better way of getting insurance money. Maybe. Surely he'd be insured against illness as well, though maybe not for as much? I know nothing about animal insurance, or race horses.

Colonel Ross still wore an expression which showed the poor opinion which he had formed of my companion's ability...

Colonel Ross is still being a dick, I see. Consistent characterisation there, I commend you. It does seem to be his one distinguishing feature. The parade of unpleasant colonels continues.

That was quite fun to say.

“To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.” “The dog did nothing in the night-time.” “That was the curious incident,” remarked Sherlock Holmes.

The Colonel was very angry. “I have been on the turf for twenty years, and never was asked such a question as that before,” said he. “A child would know Silver Blaze, with his white forehead and his mottled off-foreleg.”

...because there's absolutely no way to cover up those sorts of markings. At all... Nope. Impossible.

Oh, Mr Heath Newton... don't give your horse a racist name. Dude. Don't make the animal an accessory to your bigotry. I was all ready to like you for being the only person without a title, but nope. And there's another colonel in the running, are there really no other army ranks available? How many colonels does the British army have in the 1890s that they can just run around murdering and being murdered with such abandon?

(Colonel Wardlaw has neither murdered nor been murdered as far as I'm aware. Currently his only crime is calling a horse 'Pugilist' which is just a bad name, but at least it's not racist 😃👍. Colonel Ross has also not currently murdered anyone either, but I get the impression he kind of wants to murder Holmes.)

“That's not my horse,” cried the owner. “That beast has not a white hair upon its body. What is this that you have done, Mr. Holmes?”

He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, this one, huh?

“You have only to wash his face and his leg in spirits of wine, and you will find that he is the same old Silver Blaze as ever.” “You take my breath away!”

This is the part I knew, I confess. I think there must be an Enid Blyton book with the same plot, because I remember it being a black horse with the markings covered with shoe polish, but same difference. I'm having fun judging Col. Ross for not realising this sooner, but honestly it's probably not his fault. Although it does seem logical that if someone steals a famous horse, they'd try to hide any well-known markings it has.

Of course, these days horses are microchipped, but Leverage already worked out how to get around that.

“My dear sir, you have done wonders. The horse looks very fit and well. It never went better in its life. I owe you a thousand apologies for having doubted your ability. You have done me a great service by recovering my horse. You would do me a greater still if you could lay your hands on the murderer of John Straker.”

Oh wow, an actual apology. Maybe not all colonels are bad...

The Colonel flushed angrily. “I quite recognize that I am under obligations to you, Mr. Holmes,” said he, “but I must regard what you have just said as either a very bad joke or an insult.”

Now Holmes is just having fun with him. This plus the 'it was the horse!' followed by 'but I have a bet on, so you'll have to wait' is just plain vindictive. Clearly the colonel's apology wasn't quite enough to absolve him of all punishment in Holmes' eyes.

"...the immense significance of the curried mutton occurred to me..."

Not quite as catchy, but it could totally be a sequel.

"Powdered opium is by no means tasteless. The flavor is not disagreeable, but it is perceptible."

I did wonder about this, but I don't know enough about powdered opium to comment. So the immense significance of the curried mutton was that it was spicy?

And the curious incident of the dog in the night-time is that it did not bark when someone stole the horse. Meaning it must have been an inside job, but Ned was apparently not involved. His drugging was honest.

"There have been cases before now where trainers have made sure of great sums of money by laying against their own horses, through agents, and then preventing them from winning by fraud."

The classic betting fraud scam, which is why insider betting is illegal. Not an insurance scam. Those are pretty much the only reasons to steal a racehorse, right? Well, I guess maybe you just want a racehorse... Always possible.

"You must know, with your wide experience of turf matters, Colonel Ross, that it is possible to make a slight nick upon the tendons of a horse's ham, and to do it subcutaneously, so as to leave absolutely no trace."

Well Straker was a total dick. He really did practise on those sheep, huh? Poor animals. They're the real victims in all of this.

"...Straker was leading a double life, and keeping a second establishment. The nature of the bill showed that there was a lady in the case, and one who had expensive tastes."

So he hurt animals, tried to fix races, and was an adulterer. Just a gem of a human being. And he drugged that one guy, which is pretty horrible, too.

“Ah, it bolted, and was cared for by one of your neighbors. We must have an amnesty in that direction, I think. This is Clapham Junction, if I am not mistaken, and we shall be in Victoria in less than ten minutes."

Who just happened to cover up the markings in such a way as to make the horse unrecognisable to you, but that's nbd. What's this? Almost our stop?

Like the colonel can't put together those pieces of information. He has pretty much 1 neighbour who happens to have a stable. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together on that one.

I suppose you could call the travellers 'neighbours', but that seems unlikely.

The colonel was not a criminal, but he was kind of unlikeable, so he's going down in the tally of unpleasant colonels, if anyone's keeping track. Did ACD have a bad experience with a colonel? This is turning into a pattern.

Next up: The Beryl Coronet, which I remember the name of, but nothing about. In my head it just links back to The Blue Carbuncle, probably because they're both jewels and they have the same initials.

#Letters from Watson #Silver Blaze #Sherlock Holmes #long post #I spent way too long on that book cover #but I probably should tag for #animal cruelty #for that #animal death #maybe? it's a cartoony picture but it's still there

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artzychic27 · 10 months

Note

Death Note AU - Where is the Justice except it's about the corruptness of Mayor Bourgeois, and how Ladybug and Cat Noir aren't doing their jobs to properly punish those who cause akumatizations. I can see Miss Mendeliev being the teacher and the Science Kids being his fellow classmates in the song.

Mme. Mendeleiv: Now, if you’ll turn your pages to- *A crash is heard outside* Uh, okay! Everyone, you know the drill. Stay calm and stay inside while Ladybug and Chat Noir handle things.

Simon: Sure, teach. Sure, we let them handle things like they’ve been handling things for half a year now.

Mme. Mendeleiv: Simon-

Simon: No! No, I’m gonna say it. I truly thought things would be different with superheroes. Especially two that are close to our age, but now? Things seem to be worse!

Cosette: Hell yeah! Akuma victims are treated like pariahs, and what have those two done to stop it? Not only that, but they don’t do shit about the people who maliciously cause Akumatizations.

Ismael: Know what? They’re right. Bob Roth, Chloé, the mayor, Bustier, and every other bastard like them! Ladybug and Chat Noir say they’ll defend us, but I still don’t feel safe. I don’t feel safe expressing my emotions or getting mad at people who piss me off becuase it’ll just come back to bite me in the ass.

Mme. Mendeleiv: Listen, class. While those are well meaning arguments, I… Our current system is what it is. We have law and justice, but… But sometimes… It doesn’t always work out in everyone’s favor.

Marc: … Wouldn’t you argue that law and Justice are two completely separate things?

Mme. Mendeleiv: … I suppose. They’re certainly two sides of the same coin.

Marc: Really? It seems more like we’re binding two separate things together.

Mme. Mendeleiv: Well, then… What are your thoughts on the heroes and our current justice system?

Marc: … Where is the justice

When the guilty all go free?

Why don't we lock them up

And throw away the key?

Mme. Mendeleiv: I see a young man's anger burning in your eyes

Marc: What you see is my impatience

With your noble compromise

Show me what's right about

The wrongs that we allow

Citizens need to feel

Protected here and now

This whole damn system's broken way beyond repair

“Heroes” don’t know law and order

Don’t know good or treating us fair

Mme. Mendeleiv: Laws are made for everyone

Most are treated all the same

Marc: Till a rich man’s tricks can fix the blame

What about the victims

Waiting for some justice?

How can the heroes turn away and say

To not get upset next time?

Science Kids: Do they see the families

Hiding in their houses?

Marc: All of them afraid to walk the streets at night

Worried they’ll be in an Akuma’s sights

Tell me, where is the justice?

If there's any justice?

Mme. Mendeleiv: Your simple arguments

Have all been made before

The world's not black and white

The choice not "either-or"

Marc: Perhaps it's time

We drain the color from it then

Till we're back to seeing black and white

And wrong and right again

Mme. Mendeleiv: Overwrought pronouncements

Won't improve the paradigm

Marc: Till blue bloods cutting deals becomes a crime

Science Kids: Let a so-called hero

Choose who’s ally or foe

Marc: And only hold us accountable

When we get Akumatized!

Science Kids: Let the rich and famous

Get away with murder

Marc: Every time Hawkmoth

Strikes and we’re scarred for life

No one cares for our strife

Tell me where is the justice?

If there's any justice

Science Kids: Tell me where

Marc: Where is the justice?

Science Kids: Tell me where

Marc: For all the victims

Science Kids: Tell me where

Marc: Where is the justice?

What good is law that won’t

Punish those who make it?

Cosette: The heroes keep

Promising salvation all day long!

We look to them with hope

But it seems we were wrong!

Jean: They keep condoning loopholes

For the laws to fall between!

They should let some good old-fashioned pay-back

Grease the wheels of the machine!

Marc: Isn't everybody sick to death of all this stuff?!

Can't we all stand up and say enough?!

Mme. Mendeleiv: Have I taught you nothing?

Have you lost perspective?

You'd bend the law until it breaks

And tell yourself it's right

Marc: Do they see the families

Hiding in their houses?

All of them afraid to walk the streets at night

Worried they’ll be in an Akuma’s sights…

We must give them their justice!

Science Kids: Where is the justice?!

Marc: We owe them some justice!

Science Kids: Where is the justice?…

Where is the justice?

Mme. Mendeleiv: … *Sighs* Let’s continue the lesson.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marc anciel #science kids #mlb au #death note au #death note the musical #musical #answered ask #ask me stuff

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bracketsoffear · 10 months

Text

Wan Shi Tong (Avatar: The Last Airbender) "The great knowledge Spirit, who takes the form of a large black barn owl with a white face. Wan Shi Tong created the Spirit Library to house his ever growing collection of knowledge, and brought it to the mortal world so that humanity might benefit from such wisdom. However, eons of seeing humans abusing his knowledge for the sake of conflict has turned Wan Shi Tong to ban humans from his library for their misuse. When the Gaang arrive there, Aang promises not to abuse the knowledge they gain from the library, but they quickly go back on their word when they learn about the Fire Nation's vulnerability during a solar eclipse. Wan Shi Tong decided enough was enough and took his library back to the Spirit World while simultaneously trying to kill the Gaang for what they did. He cares nothing for the conflicts of humanity and demands that his knowledge only be obtained by those who seek it for its own sake with no intention of using it against someone else. "Wan Shi Tong" means "He who knows ten thousand things,” and "ten thousand things" is a Taoistic expression for all of creation; by introducing himself as "he who knows ten thousand things" Wan Shi Tong calls himself all-knowing."

Columbo (Columbo) "A shrewd but inelegant blue-collar homicide detective whose trademarks include his shambling manner, rumpled beige raincoat, cigar and off-putting, relentless investigative approach. Columbo was the master of perp sweating. Though he generally settles on his horse from the outset, he never lets on, instead worming his way into their confidence via fawning adulation, begging their assistance as he "solves" the case. Usually he forces them to weave a huge web of lies until he can finally pull the thread — justified because he's always right. Without letting on that he suspects the perp, he'd have long, seemingly innocuous conversations with the murderer who would get more and more frustrated as they tried to get this annoying man to go away, and thus already be off-balance when the topic turned to holes in their cover-up. Columbo's favorite move was seeming to leave once the suspect thought they'd thrown him off the scent, then turning around and adding "Just one more thing," knocking them on their heels. He's overly nice to people in a bloodhound sort of way; he convinces people that he's just a country bumpkin more interested in whatever 'hat' the villain wears than solving the crime, only to reveal in the end a cold detachment and clinical mind that the bumpkin persona allowed free rein. He plays with the feelings of the criminals, making them like him (more often than not) or at least pity him and drop their guard, or he pushes them subtly and continuously to the point where they break. He attributes his success to merely working harder, thinking longer, and looking closer than anyone else would. However, Columbo has solved every case put before him onscreen (he sometimes claims that he only solves about a third total, but this could well be part of the humility act) and hasn't gotten his man only once — in which case the perp was dying anyway. In true classic mystery fashion, each episode wraps up with the Lieutenant confronting his prey with his train of deduction, culminating in the vital clue; the perp may not confess, but they know, and the viewer knows, they have been beaten. He also possesses an encyclopedic knowledge on some subjects, which he usually hides, and has explained to colleagues that his wife believes there is "something wrong" with him."

#eye poll #the magnus archives #the eye #poll #avatar #atla #columbo

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brackets002 · 10 months

Text

Finally got a new ref made of this guy! Yaaay!

For those who haven't already seen him, this is Specs, my personalized version of Peter Parker. He's in his mid-twenties, has been Spider-Man for over a decade at this point, is married to Mary Jane Watson, and carries a lot of anger and trauma that he fights against almost as much as he fights supervillains. In his civilian life he's an investigative photojournalist, using his camera and his job at the Daily Bugle as a tool against crime and corruption--doing his best to make the world a little better in the long term.

Commissioned from the ever-brilliant @sirwolficus. A black and white version, as well as some design notes, are under the cut.

Specs genuinely needs those glasses. The spider bite didn't fix his eyesight, and in fact probably made it a little worse. When in costume he wears contact lenses, but he insists on wearing glasses in civilian life because that provides a little more separation between his identities.

The spider bite also didn't have the benefit of making him naturally buff. Instead, Specs' build developed gradually over his years of acrobatics and combat; his thighs have significantly more muscle mass than anywhere else, because he spends most of his time either running, jumping, or crouching. Most of the rest of his body places more emphasis on lean muscle definition; there's a lot more agility than brute force here.

The universe this Peter Parker lives in, Earth-61610, has an artstyle that refuses to hide the stitching and seams on a superhero costume. That's why they feature rather prominently on this reference. Over the years Specs has tried to tweak the costume's patterning so that the seam lines contribute to the aesthetic rather than interrupting it.

Specs' web-shooters are strapped onto his wrists under his gloves, which have large holes to allow the shooters themselves to be visible and operate without getting snagged on fabric. There's a very slight, but still visible, bulge beneath his gloves where the watch straps sit.

The black fingers and palms of Specs' gloves are made of a different material to most of the costume's black portions; it's much thinner and rather loose-knit, because Specs' adhesive ability doesn't work very well through typical cloth. The soles of his boots are split into sections that're each lined with the same material, so Specs' feet can stick to walls without too much obstruction.

The eye lenses of his mask are a polarized polycarbonate material; they're not white, they're just very shiny. And they don't move or emote like most Spider-Man masks seem to; instead, Earth-61610's Spider-Man wears a permanent half-glare.

Specs draws the web-pattern onto his costume by hand; he's been doing that for so long that he doesn't particularly care about making it look "right" anymore. In a way that's almost a benefit to the suit's aesthetic, because his carelessness gives the pattern a subtly messy, asymmetrical look, a lot like an actual spiderweb. It also means that artists are fully allowed to just bullshit the pattern and draw lines going vaguely the right direction, because that's exactly what he's doing in-universe.

Those red patches on his thighs are pockets.

#spider-man #peter parker #spider-man au #spidersona #spider sona #...kinda #spiderverse #into the spider verse #across the spider verse

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nya-vivi · 9 months

Text

I'm only lucid enough at 2 am so here I go again ♡

I finished Heizou's hangout and realized two (2) things: 1) I am not as a horrible of a detective as I thought and 2) it's the canon ≠ fandom time on Heizou's characterization.

Anyways I have Thoughts™ (more like a rambling).

(cw: spoilers for Heizou's character stories, voiceovers and hangout. Not proofread).

Disclaimer on all this: I will talk about the voice actors and the translations. This doesn't mean I deprecate in any way or form the work of the voice actors nor the translations issued by each translation team.

To adress the second point, I don't know if it is a 'lost in translation' type of issue or what exactly, but having I played it in the japanese dub and on spanish subtitles, I can say this:

I don't know where the 'Heizou is flirty' statement comes from.

I could count like 2 to 3 instances Heizou actually could sound 'flirty' and most of them are when we (traveler) either agree with him in something important or answer correctly to something Heizou asks us. In his voice-overs he also doesn't sound 'flirty', he actually sounds charismatic and relaxed.

That being out of the way-- the real rambling lolol

Heizou is actually such a good person tho.

Like. In the last ending of the hangout mans really said he kept quiet about a very trumatic case for Ryuuji (who it is shown he cares deeply about) FOR YEARS because he was scared the truth would be too much for him at the time while also jeopardizing his relationship with Sango (who it seems he cares a lot for, like Ryuuji).

And well, he is right with this point. Imagine being told that your recently-assassinated father figure was actually not as a good of a person as he made himself to be and was assassinated also because of a political complot and that you were implicated directly on the assassination (unknowingly). Yeah.

And also it shows how well both Sango and Heizou knew each other, because Sango knew Heizou was hiding someone from her.

And when he said to Sango that he would help her search for Ryuuji in case he didn't go back to work the next day, without prompting? It shows he cares. A lot.

Same thing happened in Watatsumi. He knew something was fishy (it was not mean to be a pun, be my guest), but he also knew it wasn't exactly their fault and that something as big as this could put in risk a lot of people.

I feel like players forget that all about Heizou is to stop crime at it's root. It is not to be a great detective or to work in cases (those are a mean to an end), but to impose so much that criminality rate just either goes down or it stops existing. So telling the commission about Watatsumi is like the worst outcome.

He revels and hides in that position as 'great detective' but not without setbacks: because he is a great detective no one from work actually listens to him when he needs advice. Because he is a great detective and he is smart enough.

Screaming.

And the fact that he hates lies and liars the most? I think it is stated in one of his stories that he hates lies. And we can see that with the street theatre he makes to raise awareness about scammers. It is shown he doesn't have the patience for them, he keeps them around because they are useful and also because they can get reformed (linking this with the 'stop crime' agenda he has) so in his brain it works like this: reform=not crime.

He says it, he could have left them in jail. But he knew it wouldn't be productive for his vision of the world. Instead, he gets information, reduces crime and get community service.

Heizou works with a flexible but strict sense of morality. He understands better than anyone the grays in the black-white scale. It doesn't mean he personally have to like it.

Idk if this is even legible. I will think about it more this night. Idk if I will expand on this.

I love Heizou <3 Goodnight

#as you can see i'm actually obsessed #i lost what i was thinking to write at a lots of points my apologies #vivi meta #everything to keep what i write organized and not ending up in tags LMAO #i don't feel like fandom is ready for this conversation

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lovelyladylavie · 2 years

Note

"i don't deserve this" for staris and nabola angst prompt

@twinklecupcake @empressofthelibrary @scriib (You guys might like this one too!)

Staris came back from the storage room where her father's things were kept. She came back with an armful of clothing and spread it out all over Nabola's bed. He gazed, eyes wide at the piles of riches in front of him.

"Is all this for me?" He wondered.

"Of course silly! You are my-, well going to be my husband soon!" She explained. "You have to look the part. You're going to be lord of this manor and estate."

"Even when hiding my face?" He asked wryly.

"Especially so. They'll judge you by the rest of your clothes. The people of my land are rather shallow like that. They say, 'the clothes make the man' around here." She shrugged.

"We follow similar adages."

Staris helped him up into a sitting position. He was still sore from the ship crash, and with his leg broken, she found he needed a bit of help with little things like that. Though not for long, she wagered. He was gaining strength back every day.

Nabola took off the loose baggy shirt they'd given him to wear, and Staris took the opportunity to observe his back. His grey skin was taut over his bones and wiry muscle. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him. From what she gleaned from how he talked about his people -and the way he ate ravenously- they didn't feed their foot soldiers much at all. The bare minimum to keep them fighting fit. And certainly nothing with flavor. The chunk of his protein suppliment bar she'd tried was bitter and dry.

Nabola put on the clean white shirt she handed him, and over that went an embroidered black and green velvet vest. On top of that went a thick padded coat that lended bulk to his narrow shoulders. She pulled the mirror over and she helped him to his feet to get even closer. He leaned on the back of a chair as she fussed over the little details.

"What do you think?" She smiled, smoothing down his shoulders and linking the clasp on the coat. She threw a round gold pendant around his neck to complete the look.

He gaped at the alien in the mirror. He looked completely different! Like one of those high class nobles that strutted around G'vonta Street in the Silver Sky City! He could hardly believe his eyes!

And that's when the doubt set in.

What was he doing?! How dare he wear any kind of fine vestments when he had not earned the rank or honor to wear them!? If an official of the upper command saw him, he was a dead man! Jewelry like this was for the Priests of Hvan Mountain, where they prayed ceasely for the Empire's continued victories.

The crushing guilt and fear of getting punished for getting uppity above his lowly soldier rank made his arms shake and he lost his grip on the chair.

He fell to the floor in an instant and she gasped. His leg screamed in pain as it bashed into the hard wood floor.

She knelt and went to lift him up, but he batted her hands away.

"Don't! I-! I deserve this! This is a crime! I'm leaping over my rank! I could be executed for this!"

She looked at him, puzzled and confused. "What are you talking about?" She fretted.

"Clothing such as this is meant for honored citizens! I don't deserve this! Any of it! Just give me the simple vestments of your soldiers and I will wear those!" He began pulling off the coat in a fit of fear, looking out the window to search the skies for saucer ships.

She was taken aback. But then leaned forward, grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him in close to her face.

"YOU ARE A MAN OF HONOR!" She told him firmly. "You are rescuing me and my staff from destitution! Your presence here makes you my hero!"

He was shocked and rather speechless, his mouth was pressed to a thin line in reaction, as if she was likely to bite his face.

Instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek softly. She lingered there and a warmth spread from the spot, making his whole face warm and he seemed to...calm down??

She finally pulled away, "What you're volunteering for, I won't pretend its hard. Or even easy in other ways. But it means everything to me. And you sacrificing what little freedom you have on our world, to stay here with me? Its so incredibly honorable, if we were on your world, you would be entitled to the most princely of vestments!"

She pulled the clasp of his coat shut again, he was still stunned. His hand went to where she performed the strange magic on his face.

"Sorry for my...forward kiss. That was..."

He stuttered, "Nice. I, uh-it felt...warm. Thank you. I think that helped calm me down."

"Oh! Well, then I shall gladly repeat it so...as needed!" She blushed, cheeks suddenly hot herself.

"You want me to keep these clothes that badly?"

"Yes, they are gifts! And it is very rude to turn down gifts in human culture!"

He clasped her hand with his. "If you say it, I will believe it. I trust you. And I believe I will... learn to like them."

"I bet." She grinned.

#staris and nabola #alien romance #monster boyfriend #terato #xenophillia #lavie writes

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casspurrjoybell-26 · 5 days

Text

Too Old For This - Chapter 3 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Leroy wasn't sure why he had agreed to go into the man's house.

He barely even remembered his name.

He was sure it was Zachary or something to that extent.

The man looked just as shocked, himself.

Those deep hazel eyes opened wide as a small.

"Oh, okay, then," left the man's lips.

"The house is a bit of a mess, so don't mind that," he said, turning his chair before opening the door.

Leroy realized that it was open for him and hurried up the porch stairs before walking past the man who rolled his wheel-chair right behind him.

The first thing he noticed was how 'hollow' the place seemed... empty and only littered with the bare necessities.

There wasn't a dining table in the living room, only two bar stools by the kitchen island.

The living room had one sofa and a television that was fixed on the wall.

Leroy wasn't sure what he'd expected the inside of the bungalow to look like but certainly, it was not like this.

The state of the lawn has given him the impression that the man would be messy or a hoarder of some sort.

Well, he guessed one couldn't move a wheelchair around properly if the place was cluttered to hell and back.

"They are in the basement," Zachary said, making Leroy look over at him.

He raised a brow in confusion as he saw the man stand up and push his wheelchair to the side.

'I thought you were disabled,' the words lingered on Leroy's tongue but he kept that to himself.

It seemed the man noticed that he was staring intently at him because he fidgeted and held on to the edge of the kitchen island.

"I can walk. I just have a lot of pain with it," the man said, giving Leroy an awkward smile.

"Arthritis?"

"No, fibromyalgia."

Well, that was one of his diagnoses but Zachary almost felt ashamed to start listing off a series of illnesses that bounced off each other to put him in the amount of pain he was in because when he started, he often saw the doubt build up in people's eyes and when that happened, he felt pressure to over share and over-explain.

He didn't want to do that today or any day for that matter.

"Ah, I see," Leroy said, feeling slightly uncomfortable that he'd stared so much to prompt the explanation.

"You can follow me, it's down the hallway," the man said, walking past Leroy.

The younger man spotted a limp in the man's walk and he felt bad for being suspicious again.

Regardless, he couldn't help feeling like he had maybe walked into a trap.

If Zachary was a serial killer pulling at his empathy strings... Leroy wasn't saying he was but if he was this would be the perfect setup.

He could see it now, with true crime hosting his story... a man killed in a basement on the promise of cat cuddles.

He smiled a little at his own invention and followed the man... Zachary?

He should probably ask before it got awkward or ask his name again.

When they got to the stairs Zachary walked down and Leroy followed and at the end of the stairs.

Zachary turned on the light and there they were, three cats lodged between different locations.

One at the fat end under a mattress, one on top of a cupboard and another hiding under a washing machine.

Zachary made a noise with his tongue and the cats scrambled to their feet, leaving their hiding stops to walk toward the two men.

All three of the cats rubbed against Zachary's legs before staring up inquisitively at Leroy.

Leroy bent down into a squat, reaching out his hand to brush the fur of a cute white one with a black patch on its back.

"You don't have to worry about them. They have all their shots and they're spayed," Zachary said, taking a stop on the stairway.

"I've tried to do the same for the other cats that haven't come in yet but I might be missing one or two."

Zachary nodded as he hummed.

"Yeah, it makes it safer for everyone since we can't adopt all of them and honestly, not all cats want to be indoors. I usually have my sister take them. I can't drive so it's a hassle to hop in an Uber and take them myself."

Leroy wondered about the driver's license thing a bit too long.

If the man could walk, he could probably drive, right?

Or maybe it was too painful or not safe for some other reason?

Or maybe he didn't just like it.

For all that he knew, he could be like himself, who had had one accident and decided never to get behind a steering wheel again.

So instead, Leroy just muttered 'I see' before picking up a cat and sitting on a stair just below Zachary.

"I'm sorry but what's your name again?" Leroy said, feeling he should get it out of the way.

"Zachary?"

The man smiled, nodding his head.

"Yeah, that's it and yours is Leroy, right?"

Leroy nodded.

"I'm sorry. I'm just super bad with names, so I thought I should make sure."

"It's okay."

"I took today off so I thought I should stop by," the younger man mumbled and Zachary squinted into the distance before he remembered it was a Friday.

The days bleed into each for the most part and there wasn't use in keeping track since he didn't work or go to school.

Every day was just another day of sitting in bed and staring into space.

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lightpost · 4 months

Text

I went to a dark place, torment horror unbearable I'll never speak about, a place a soul gets ripped apart Divine found me and put peace inside my heart and it's a good place to start.

I always write letters I can never send so I put little notes like these out.

I just want my heart to be safe, able to run wild to see joy jump across his face is my happy place.

I accept you as you are, I have control over being a good person because I respect me, but that doesn't guarantee you will be good to me, so I can always walk away and sleep guilt free.

This different is madness but you can't hate the roses because you got scratched with one thorn.

Hard to believe how much damage can be done in a year, I was completely different last year.

Can a bad ending be redeemed by a good beginning?

I'm making flowers grow in the saddest parts of me, my tears are watering them gracefully.

Waiting for the day I kiss with a smile, he doesn't tell me to stop he gets me to laugh instead it's just a dream I have in my head.

One day I'll walk down that honored asile in those satin white ballet shoes.

Even as broken as I am, I am strong. what do you have to say for how I hold myself together and move along?even though I'm shattered, I never stop to wonder what might of been if I stayed, keep going always this is my healing and you and I both know us wasn't pretty.

Someday you will understand.

Civil war is coming, government wants us to fight, private owned prisons are owned privately for a reason, nothing will be safe, the slime from the dam one day will break water will be poison after that no life will be spared. beware.

Portals are opening, the kuiper belt is full of watchers, the watchers are aware, something is awakening. The ripple effect as just begun and no one is ready for what is to come. You can't run and you can't hide even their bunkers won't be enough to survive. This download is heavy head feels like it's splitting, from discernment because the government will use project blue beam more and more now from aliens to humans nothing will be as it seems what is real just might be fake and what is good will be covered as evil. nothing is safe.

What is something we always want but never have?

You can cast spells with your eyes? Show yourself is what I always say when someone looks at me I just call it out silently. It has never failed me I always see what's hiding. Yes you can cast spells with your eyes they never hide the heart or soul. Eyes speak energy.

WW3 won't be what you think, because it's already here, you just refuse to see.

I'll see my x again just not in the way you think, he'll be a ghost standing in my kitchen on Halloween I'll be in a dress surrounded by loved ones the teapot will whistle and his apparition will be his transition. He paid for his crimes, our last time, our final goodbye.

The devil exists, man created him so man had an excuse for his bad behavior to never look in the mirror and blame himself for the devil within.

From the core of my soul life will never depart.

Oh the damage existed, but control never lasted enough to choke me though.

I hate looking people in the eyes, you want to know why? I'll see all that you hide, you'll shapeshift right before my eyes I've a goblin come out in a woman before, I've seen the light of life in a dying man's eyes, I've seen a child eyes turn a soulless black. I don't look see

you have no idea what I've been through, kidnap, pedophile and pimp I'm not ashamed I survived I'll write truth until the day I die, I've been on the streets longer than you, I hate games humans play everyone's a toy until that toy breaks, I see the snakes, stay away.

No, I am no better than you. I'm only trying to be better than your pain.

I'm trying to act okay when I'm struggling. Have to pretend everything is okay.

The x is being questioned, his life is on the line, I can feel it through the timeline, my call is in due time I'm scared beyond fear itself will my pictures, will my scars be proof enough? Will the judge be smart to see his bluff? Doing this alone is rough. This is tough stuff.

I lay out my heart day after day, everything around me is gray, I am invisible in the storm when the heart is beyond repair.

Into the deepest darkness I took a fall, a good one too, no sobbing no anything at all just deep breathing, oh well whatever happens happens to us all.

He sold his black heart at the market, she dare speak of love it didn't touch everything but she changed enough.

Someday I will live in the castle through the trees, near the ocean to feel its salty breeze, one day I will be free, someday I'll love just a little to much for the star to see.

Sometimes sunshine just wears thin.

She looked in the mirror spoke to her heart, "I will take this winter, you will rise again as the sun, I will be braver to wear you in the spring, my love."

She's a diamond in the rough, that still deserves the daylight she's still a flower filled with delight, she's not your enemy, she wasn't your fight to conqueror she wanted shelter from the wind, to fill the home with tiny treasures, a way to say thank you but you hit her instead

Braided into bloom and fade, in need of proof of time that was real, touch them feel them, my storytelling tears searching for pictures of pages turned to debrie, something's are never meant to be

Tons of weight, anchored to a soft heart, buried under, cement afraid of another burden fighting the pull of gravity, twisting steel screams of cracking metal and bone, harsh winds and no release.

Running back and forth between high grief and little delight only trying to live for once in my life.

Between the sunshine and rain there is pain.

Soul to soul, nothing to hide, for we will meet again on the other side, so many fear that rawness, so few know the naked spirit without body only the true in truth know the mind, for there are no lies when are apart.

She no longer expects love or kindness back in return.

Such sadness in these eyes, such a bittersweetness in a smile, it's painfully written in the eyes, they give nothing to world expect everything they've gone through.

You taught me to go back to my heart and reread a few chapters differently with you in mind so I can grow up to be with Divine.

Soon I'll be living in my own home and when he finally comes along I'll get the chance to say I love you for all time.

#his voice #lifetimefitness #i need a miracle #2012 #december #minneapolis #sunday night

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corvondog · 2 years

Text

Broto/Sprout - Introduction

So,, before starting to talk about the actual characters from The Trio Story, I think it's important to introduce where they live first, as it has MAJOR importance to the story.

Let me introduce you to Broto (or Sprout, if you want to translate the name)!! It's a fictional city located at south of Minas Gerais, Brazil, and if not for it's only waterfall and the hot air ballon agency, The Sky Colors, it doesn't really have anything outstanding about it... unless you choose to look more closely.

Be it the messages hiding in the city's architecture and art, or the very regional urban legends that are told mouth-by-mouth, whispered during school breaks. Be it the wreid signals left on the streets, with some unique simbolism and language, or the even wreider crimes that never seem to be fully explained. It seems to have something going on, a badly kept secret that keeps trying to appear to the cracks.

Maybe, to most people, it woudn't really make much sense. But to these three charchters, that... and how that relates to their stories, has led to them getting together to solve all these mysteries left behind. And to find out many people are looking for them, too.

As the series goes on, I hope to explore most parts of the map at least a bit!! Also, the worldbuilding is still being worked on, so maybe some details will change in the future.

Scrowlling down, there's some more info about the city, along with color labels for the maps, if you're interested!

This is a small map of the whole area, including the waterfall and mountains surrounding it.

This is a more detailed version of the map! The colors showcase:

- Purple: main road that crosses the city, with white parts showing it's a bridge;

- Yellow: plantation areas;

- Orange: unpaved roads that leads to the rural area;

- Blue: the river that comes from the mountain and goes through the city;

- Green: general greenery areas.

The thin black lines inside the city are some of the streets crossing it (more or less, I'm not an expert on street positioning lol). Notably, there are also many bridges and two viaducts. The Sky Color's agency lies on the first small moutain, next to the top of the image.

The city has more or less 100.000 habitants and it's main fount of income are tourism, agronomy, craftsmanship and probably the flood of students that come for the universities. And, well, the many legends that surroud it also do catch the eyes of those curious by the supernatural.

I'm not really sure how they would react to the truth... could you say powers are considered supernatural?

#Broto #The Trio Story #my writing #worldbuilding #my story

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 3 years

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Mob bucky/seb or mob chris/andy recs??

Updated 07/04/21 ✨ = Just Added

To be added please tag me in your future works!

Hey Anon! I’m so glad you asked this because Mob/Mafia! Any version of those boys is my favorite. In my previous fic recs I recommended...

If love was an option by @mianorth » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Part 1 🦋 Part 2 🦋 Part 3

Good Little Wife & Good Little Girl by @donutloverxo » Mob!Andy Barber x Reader – A little dark and it has some really good smut in it.

Blackmail by @stargazingfangirl18 » Soft!DarkMafia Andy Barber x Female Reader — You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. (One-Shot)

Blow Sweet and Thick by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Bucky is having a bad day, you can help him feel good. (Part of Mafia Monday’s)

Run To You by @bestofbucky » Mob!Boss Bucky x Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. (Series)

Can’t Run, Can’t Hide by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!MafiaBucky Barnes x Reader — When you get noticed by the infamous mob boss, you flee. But Bucky doesn’t like to be denied anything and he’s coming for you. (One-shot)

Six Feet | Ch.1 ⚰️ Ch.2 by @queenoftheworldisdead » Dark Mob!Steve x Reader + Dark Mob!Bucky x Reader — Your family’s small funeral home comes into financial trouble. In desperation your father finds the most unlikely solution to solve his financial problems. | (Short Series)

Bankrupt by @mypoisonedvine » dark!40’s!Mob!Stucky x Reader — Your husband’s gambling addiction quickly got him in hot water with the mob, and you by extension. When some debt collectors come by to settle what is owed, you realize that you have a lot more to worry about than money problems.

Partition by @angrythingstarlight » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky comforts you after a bad day, and your boss learns why no one messes with his girl. —> Part 2: Let Me Show You — You wanted to know what your mobster boyfriend did, lucky for you he’s more into the show then tell.

Say the word and it’s yours by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mobster boyfriend rescues you from a long, boring day at work. Bucky always said, “ask and its yours”

Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky Barnes would be lost with you. You’re his everything and he plans on spending Valentine’s Day proving it to you.

All Dressed In White by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader — You were going to marry someone else, Bucky won’t let that happen. You belong to him now and forever. Till Death Do You Part.

Thick As Thieves by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mafia!Steve Rogers — The only thing the Mafia hates as much as snitches are thieves. And you’re planning on stealing from Bucky and Steve, what happens if you get caught?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that.

Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again.

To Have & To Hold by @slyyywriting » Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader — Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(series)

✨ Mob!Sugar Daddy!Stucky Moodboard by @brattycherubwrites » Mob!Stucky x Reader

✨ Laced Around Your Throat by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve x Reader, Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Your Mob boyfriend knows that the only thing that looks even better than his hand around your throat is his custom made necklace. You’re his girl and the world needs to know it.

✨ Hidden Gems by @jtargaryen18 » Mob!Steve Rogers x Mob!Daughter Reader — Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

Necessary Arrangements by @stargazingfangirl18 » Andy Barber x Fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x (Different) Fem! Reader ft. Ransom Drysdale » One of my favorite series, chapters are decent sized and the smut is so good!

Hugs My Love by @thatfuckingweirdo » Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You just really need a hug, and Bucky is the only one you want it from.

my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam by @cloudystevie » Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader — steve gives you what you want… kind of.

Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Stucky x Reader

Petals and Bullets by @revengingbarnes » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader (One of my all time favorites series)

I would check out @sinner-as-saint’s Masterlist they have quite a few Mob!Bucky series and one-shots that I have loved in the past.

Special by @buckycuddlebuddy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — this one-shot is really hot.

Love, Honor, and Obey by @constantwriter85 » Bucky Barnes — This one is good and I need to catch up on.

Mafioso by @captain-barnes-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Please do yourself a favor and read.

Lipstick and Crayons by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader - In Progress

A really good DarkMob!Steve Drabble called Please Hurt Me by @gotnofucks *chefs kiss*

The Mobster’s Little Girl by @smutsonian » Steve Rogers x Reader

off to the races 🐻 off to the races 2 by @harryspet » Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

The Ignorant Beauty & the Beast by @mysterioh » Steve Rogers x Reader – With 21 parts sadly it hasn’t been updated in 8 months, it’s one of my favorite Mob!Steve Roger fics out there. *Thanks to @inactivewhore I found out this story was moved to AO3 and is now called where angels fear to tread it was last updated on 13/11/20*

What It Takes by @cherienymphe » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You left Bucky once you found out who he really is. The one thing you thought would guarantee your safety ends up sealing your fate.

Welcome Home by @punani » Chris Evans x Black!Reader — He’s been away for awhile, but he knows that his girl’s loyalty to him knows no bounds. Knows she’s been waiting for him after her adamancy in telling him there was no other option. It’s only right to make the reunion a memorable one. | So, so, so, so freaking good!

These are what I found on Tumblr that I plan on reading.

Handmaid by @extremelyblackandwhite » Sebastian Stan x ingenue!Reader — y/n works as a handmaid for the daughter of an influential mob leader who is promised to the new boss of the most powerful mob family in new york, sebastian.

AO3 Website Reccomendations

Satellite Heart » Stucky x Reader — You used to be Steve and Bucky's girl. Then they fucking left without saying goodbye. Little did they know, you were pregnant. But life went on. You raised your Talia to the best of your ability. But one day, everything goes to shit. Now your boys are back in your life. And they're not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Little Fox A/B/O Series » Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Soft!Dark Natasha Romanoff x OFC! & Peter Parker x Soft!Dark Tony Stark — So I can’t stress this enough you need to read the tags for this series and I kept getting confused as I read this story as to how old Violet Mason is. But this series takes you on a roller coaster, I like it, my cousin didn’t finish it, I need to catch up.

Pelmeni *finished* » Stucky x Reader — James Bucky Barnes has a good life, as a member of a powerful organized crime syndicate. His best friend Steve is a member too and his literal partner in crime. Bucky's got a problem though. You. His longtime love and secret girlfriend. Unfortunately, your father is his boss and has plans for you that involve normal life. Steve has a problem too. Steve wants in on your relationship and more than the semi-regular/occasional steamy threesomes. You don't have a problem, you're just busy with a big mob wedding coming up, which means a big celebration, that you're busy catering for.

Dying For This Love » Dark!Bucky x Reader — That was before. When you were Bucky’s girl. Now, you have a score to settle. That’s why you’re wearing Bucky’s favorite red satin dress, the one with the cuts that reach right up to the tops of your thighs, the tennis necklace he gifted you for your anniversary, and are fresh off of a mani/pedi and hair appointment. He’s going to regret the day he fucked with you. | This one is intense and a tad bit dark, but the smut is good.

off to the races » Steve Rogers x Reader — In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.

The Mobster’s Little Girl » Steve Rogers x Reader — what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

Brooklyn Sweethearts » Dark!Stucky x Reader — Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise. | Probably one of my all time favorite Mafia!Stucky stories I have ever read, just sadly it also hasn’t been updated in like 8 months and I keep hoping it will get updated.

Hot Doll » Skinny!MobBoss Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there. | Dark and good!

Doctor Doctor » Steve Rogers x PlusSize! Reader — (1940 Mobster AU!) You're a war widow down on her luck; and the King of Brooklyn, Steve Rogers, takes notice. | Another one of my favorites. A little bit dark as well.

The Widow » Dark!MobBoss x Reader — It’s the 1920s and everyone’s having a roaring time but you. | Trust me it’s just dark enough.

Those are just some on AO3, I would just go through Mafia AU tag and go to filter and click Avengers or Captain America.

#you ask i answer #ktk rec ‘21 #ktk rec #ktk fic rec #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky #mob!andy barber #andy barber #andy barber x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mob!steve #dark!steve x reader #stucky x reader #fanfiction recommendation #fanfic rec #mob!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan x reader #mob!chris evans

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bemylord · 3 years

Text

↠ toji with a virgin s/o ↞

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

warnings: nsfw, aged up, size kink [?], oral [fem!receiving], virgin reader, first time, lost of virginity, praising, toji calls himself daddy, grammar errors.

word counter: 3.2k

rq: I would like to request a oneshot? a hc would be appreciated too though. Toji with a virgin gf who can’t even make herself cum? Just how he would like to destroy her :)

butler's remark: (◕‿◕) hello lord, i'm back with an oneshot with toji being tremendously tender with his lover for the first time. in addition, reader is a citizen. sorry, i did it soft, bc i think toji will super-extra-super soft for the first time with his s/o, only for the first. i hope you'll like that, thanks for the request ;)

disclaimer: everything you read is purely my opinion - any detail, sketch, or event is a figment of my imagination.

you've been an ordinary citizen and had never planned to date a sorcerer or someone close to this specialty. you ain't cowardly, merely as you were thinking you'll marry a simple man and will have kids with him, and die in one day like lovebirds.

you had never considered yourself being stuck in a relationship with a sorcerer killer.

you were overworked, virtually sleeping as were walking in the empty street, dreaming to get home as soon as possible, to feel the silk sheets against your back. the area where your office was located had little street lighting, although, you hadn't felt the anxiety of being robbed or something worse. the day went lingeringly and horrible due to the boss who declared you as a temporary deputy, piled you up with a stack of papers.

but, this is life, anything might happen. all of a sudden, you overheard something behind you but as you looked back - there was nobody, as soon as you turn your head to the starting position, you saw a young, skinny man who is holding a knife in his hand.

'hmm~ look who's here, a young, gorgeous lady..' he said with his disgusting, lewd voice, coming closer to you. 'would you mind playing with me? don't be shy or els-'

you have a perky personality, no doubt, but because of how hard the day was, you had one option - run for the hills. before you could do any movements as if hit the man or run away, something prompt hit him, like a swift meteorite that you couldn't see. a cloud of dust grew around you and the man, so you hide your face in the elbow curve, covering your mouth with another hand.

as soon as the dust had settled, in front of you opened up on the view of an adult man. he was high, had an athletic, broad-shouldered, pretty impressive figure. your savior held the blade in one hand, flopped on his back.

'he ran away like a coward. don't worry, girl, you saved, thanks to me' he laughed, he stroked himself on the shoulder, as were about to leave the dead body.

'no i'm not! i'd have protected myself on my own'

you refuted his smugness, watching as he slowly moves his torso in your way, flaunting his outlining muscles through the fabric of the black t-shirt. his complacent eyes and the sharp scar over the right side of the mouth on the edge of his lips. you took a deep breath, continuing on your path as he isn't standing there, not hadn't protected you.

'you're too weak to beat even him, if not me, you'd be-'

'i am stronger as i may look'

he giggled, in a flash stood in front of you, bending over to your face, by finger tugs your face up to look at him directly in eyes, smirked.

'are you sure, girl?'

those green, almost emerald, but cold eyes looked directly into yours as two faces were as closed as you could kiss his lips.

'i'll walk you home'

'i don't want to, and anyway, maybe you're his partner in crime, leave me alon-'

previous to you had finished your phrase, he threw your tiny body on his shoulder, leisurely walking, better say, carrying you home. you beat his back, softly reminiscent of a parody of the word 'let me go, moron, i can walk by myself'

'tch, fine, idiot,' he deliberately shrugged his shoulder to close your mouth as heard the name you had given him. 'by the way, what's your name or you prefer the name idiot?' you said sarcastically.

'for you it's toji'

well.

as a result of your crawl and also being talkative when clearly you shouldn't be, you ended up being in a relationship with a man, who'd obviously fuck you on the first date, as it may count as a 'date', anywhere-anytime, by the way.

although you wouldn't ever say he isn't hot or sexy, conversely, you willingly allow him to breed, precisely you'd beg toji to breed you on the straightaway on the cervix, but for one thing.

you're a virgin.

hilariously - it's true. nothing bad to be in your age a virgin, but if you weren't dating toji it'd fine: his dirty jokes and lustful eyes which are maddening you insane, also his fucking athletic body which is outlining through the t-shirt or white cotton shirt [he wear it once] you thought he did it purposely: he knew your secret, undoubtedly could sniff your chaste nature as if you can emit fragrance.

on the second date, it had been nine days since you got acquainted with him, as you moved in with him. toji was exceedingly obsessed with every step of yours - he followed you from the work, in the mall or market, for your security and control every guy who'd be close to you.

although, you couldn't hide your addiction - he's a drug you should be careful with or you might be addicted as if you ain't. he isn't wearing pants in home, walking in front of you solely in underwear. he could walk from the shower in a terry towel wrapped around his torso as he buries his hands in his dark hair mess it up.

'what are you looking at, girl?'

you couldn't take your eyes off his bulging..

'you. just you. i'm gonna cook dinner, something.. special?'

'eggs, baby'

fushiguro put hands above the door frame, exhale and tensed every muscle, narrowing predatory eyes as you were the extraction he was target for. you're laying on his king size bed [lol i'm sorry i'm out], wondering is everything he has gotten measured in king size as he interupted your reflection by putting the knee on the edge of the bed.

'mine. in your pussy'

as if you're bewitched - you couldn't talk, just contemplate as he leisurely moves towards you. you couldn't contravene as he tugs your face to ogle in your absentminded eyes as you're avoiding his gaze, looking at the ceiling or door or even window. not. at. his. bulge.

your heart had stuck in your throat when toji ran his hand under his shirt, certainly, he has a kink of dominion, when he suddenly stopped. despite of your uncertainty and timid of subsequent play, you looked at his emerald eyes as he licks his lips with a tongue.

'are you sure, baby girl? i mean, it's your first time after all'

you quell your forthcoming question staring deeply into lascivious eyes, put hands on his massive shoulders. as you anticipated, his cock twitched as toji letting out a low groan in your ear, kissing your temple. you're absentmindedly running finger pads on his back, not knowing the proximity of bodies that are readiness wanted to intertwine together. not knowing how much it turns him on.

'stop me if i go crazy over your body, okay?'

as if. as if you dare would rip out his tongue off your crotch as he makes you his woman. toji left on your red cheeks quick kisses, took off the towel. you shut your eyes tight, still holding his shoulders barely squeeze them, letting out a hushed moan.

after you quelled your moan, toji touched your lips against his one, running fingers on your lower stomach to the cup of the breast without touching the hard nipple. light movements mixed with his muted groans. his pads deftly touched one areola as you emitted a sharp purr, arching your back a little as a dulcet sign for toji.

you dug your fingers into toji's back, as he put a finger on your hard nipple, holding himself as to grab your tits and clench it in his large hand.

you gasp for the air as if there was a catastrophic shortage of it due to the pressed body of toji. you responded at his deep kiss, wrapping hands around his neck, apparently begging for something more.

he pulled away from the kiss just to take off the shirt he has given you, baring your untouched by no one but him tits, leading palms onto breasts, skipping nipples between the gaps through fingers. he reached down to your lips to give a bit of warning kiss as he slightly bit your lip, kissing all the way down to your collarbone, finally leaving there manifestations of hickeys.

for how long toji has been stopped from leaving on your stunning skin his marks? it seems it has been absolutely not many days but toji, as you may see, clearly has to leave labels on your neck.

he dug his teeth into your neck, frantically wants your area to be dotted by him as a token for everyone meaning: she's taken, dude, don't mess up with her.

for how long toji has been stopped from touching your sensitive area as having been feel warmth and tenderness is emitted from your body?

toji squeezes your nipple imponderable, to make you feel some kind of power over you becoming submitted by toji fushiguro, a sorcerer killer, a man who owned you, spinning the pea between pads, making you let out whimpers.

'you drive me insane, little one,' he approached his face close to the breasts, touched your pea with his tongue cautiously, as not to frighten you away. 'i'm gonna make your pussy drool beneath me, completely own you as my little girl'

you feel yourself gush beneath him, burying hands in his messy hair as your breath has stuck in the throat as toji snuggles his lips on your tits, sucking your hard and probably swollen from teasing. fushiguro has made you became wet in your panties as he's moistening your breast, hearing your precipitous whimpers.

'toj-toji, i don't know-'

'tch, little girl, relax your body and let daddy do the rest'

as he pronounced, he moves down, leaving the trace of wet kisses on your stomach, massaging your hips, stopping his action to look at your red face. your chest heaves heavily every time you feel toji's silky lips on your belly as his finger pads caressing your thighs. as if something weighty is resting on your chest you take deep breathes, breathlessly exhaling.

'spread your legs'

you obediently did what he said, hesitating a bit as the only fabric holding him back to bury his mouth against your pussy, assembling all juices, tasting your cum as if it's his meal. he rested kisses on the fabric of panties, couldn't sate with tender kisses he spreads on your body.

deliberately run tongue on your labia through the thin fabric as you were about to push his hand from your crotch as toji grab you by the hips, pulling you closer. he slackens his teasing actions by kissing your inner thighs. as your cunt was lack of attention from toji, you let out a pliant whimper, approximately woefully have purred.

toji's self-restraint thinning as you're silently begging with your eyes and your hands immeasurably are burying in his dark hair. the tip of his tongue deftly sideline panties, flicked it, as he discovered a divine view on your drooling hole.

'stop me now, because i won't be able to hold back later'

teasufully kissing your labia and area around the place he should be playing with as anticipating for some pliant whimpers of you, deliberately showing you he'll lick that swollen clit, pressing a soft kiss on the skin instead. fushi's shattering your hopes of being eating every time he kissed literally everything and lick everywhere besides your hole and clit. he acts like an inexperienced teenager, notwithstanding, you know that toji'd ruin or demolish your holes like a monster.

't-toji..'

'yes, my little girl' he pressed the tip of his tongue on your clit, hearing those moans he's willing to listen for the rest of his life, then take away as you were about to press his mouth back again, digging his tongue deep inside you, although he obviously couldn't reach to your cervix, barely permeate in your hole.

'you want me to eat your little pussy?'

as if you can't talk, you nodded. scarcely reached up to take off the last thing, leisurely pulling down the panties, staring at you as a predator. toji is standing on his knee on the bed, threw your ankles on his shoulders, smooching ankles watching as to how your cheeks are becoming pinky, as you try not to look at his dick. still, you're a timid one, despite your words.

he reached to your face to give you a voluptuous kiss, returning to the starting position.

'look at your pretty pussy'

he kissed your clit in a flash replace into the tongue, making a circles on swollen and needy spot, decisively giving you what've been begging for. running the tip of the tongue on your virgin hole, leaving it for the dessert, returning to your clit.

you'd swear to god you can see stars in the ceiling as toji squeezing your nipples while moistening you. the proximity of his face in your pussy is driving you insane, for the days of cohabitation you understood he isn't a tender one, vice versa, he'd fuck you whenever his dick gets erect. maybe it's a rush of tenderness, maybe it's the fear of hurting his girl. nevertheless, you not scared to give toji full control of your body and bring you to your first orgasm by ripping the hymen. if that's i may call the way he's licking you, it'd be make-out with your pussy, due to his relentless movements by flicking his tongue on the clit.

'baby,' he pulled away from it, as you squeeze a sheet, making your knuckles become whiten as you spread legs wider, watching his mocking grin appeared on the face. 'i'll be gentle' he pressed his lips on your forehead, taking from the bedside table lubrication to low the friction. although, the thought of his dick ripped the hymen, putting all his tenderness in your first time, make your knees get shaken.

he put a soft kiss on your lips, smearing lubrication on his dick, substitute cock on the entrance. abrupt and penetrating pain wavily covered your body as you feel soft lips covered your mouth, blunting the pain with one hand being dug in your hip, painting illegible traces. another hand he put on your cheek, drawing circles with his thumb, waiting till getting used to the pain.

toji will find lots of red stripes from your nails on his back, smirked, as reminiscing about that special night when he made you his woman. his broad back was made merely for you to leave thousand and thousand fingernail impressions every night. toji had let a low groan as he feels as you move fingertips to the neck, exhaling in his chest.

he entered all his dick inside you feeling as your walls compressing the base, getting used to being full with his thick cock. you're indulging at the new, mind-blowing feeling, give him sheepish kisses as you're scared to be rejected. he moves his palm from the cheek to the ear, running fingers through your tangled but soft to the touch. you nudged your hips up, intermittently letting your breath out.

'tch, if you're not feeling well, i can come-'

'more, toji, more'

without breaking up kiss, he pulled out cock to the tip as pulling it again slowly, stretching your walls, touching with the tip your cervix as his balls touching your ass, groaning in the kiss, softly caress your thigh. you moved your palms to the shoulder, touching the musculature, going down to the biceps wrapping his arm as another hand attempting to draw patterns on the back as if it a canvas for you.

you can feel every vein, curve, and the way his tip is expanding gummy walls, as toji diligently coming in, adjusting inside you then pulling out. you're focusing on how full you're with his cock inside, your clarity gradually getting mushed as the sharp pain turning into a pleasurable and delightful feeling. sating to the new feeling might get addiction, but you're far beyond to accept that, surrendering to your lover as he gets addicted to it. you grasp for his shoulders, as he nudged in you, leaving whimpers from your mouth.

'like that, huh?' he pulled his cock out to contemplate as your facial expression have changed: you furrowed eyebrows as felt your hole being empty without thick toji's cock, practically purring like a march cat. 'beg me for it, baby'

what an insatiable man you've got. he licked his lips, looking down on it. your hymen has left blood, as he glanced at you to see his future wife your reaction.

'i-i toji, it's..'

he hummed, returning to your lips, slowly giving back the missing part.

'you okay?' you nodded as a response; he's perceiving fullness as wants to fill you up, but desperately be tempered himself, blaming he didn't wear a condom to do it. a dozen of half-moons will be littering your hips as toji's digging nails, scrambled your mind with squelches pushes in your hole. 'relax, baby girl, i'm here' he thrusts inside the spongy spot, ripping another moan out of you, voluptuous to his ears. 'baby~ you tease me with those moans of yours'

his cock was aimed at a place inside your vagina, with a slow but deep thrust skillfully reaching your cervix, massaging with the tip of his cock that spot. toji's staring at your pleased, satisfied face as he found that needy place of yours.

holding on to the headboard in the bed as support, clutching the sheet with his other hand like the composure he was rapidly losing with each thrust into your hole, formerly virgin cunt, letting out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back.

wiggling the pelvis backward and forwards as heard beneath his body your whimpers, feeling replenishment on his skin to his previous strips, losing remains self-control as your walls have been clenching his cock, as your body gets shaking as his, preparing the body for the coming ecstasy.

'toji, mh~' you tilted the head back on the pillow, wrapping legs around his pelvis, quelling moans while arching back against his chest. you're milked [? correct if i'm wrong] his cock, shuddering. you felt his lips on your cheeks, as he's covering your wet face in kisses, pulling cock out.

'damn, baby, probably-' he stroke his hard cock a couple of times before releasing his cum onto your belly. fushiguro ran fingers from the hairline, wiping beads of sweat from the hairline through hair. 'are you good?'

as you're still catching your breath you rested on your face a slight smile, closing eyes. he giggled, getting out of bed.

'almost made a baby' it took him a second or two, to lift you up in my arms, leading into the bathroom. 'i'm gonna clean you up, my baby. but you could fall asleep in my arms, you did such a good job by taking my cock' he kissed your forehead, wiping your drops of sweat.

'i love you, toji'

he put you on the washing machine, turning away from you to fill the tub. what went unnoticed was his relaxed smile after your phrase.

'i love you more, little one'

(◕‿◕)

↳ back to the main master list.

i feel i made lots of mistakes, like, idk. correct me if smth i did wrong.

i remember my promise to do one more work with toji, so lately i'll write hdc + drabble with him.

1K notes · View notes

libraford · 3 years

Text

I owe you all a story about kittens. But its about... a little more than kittens. It's a long one.

I want to tell you all about the kittens, which took place in 2019. But in order to do so, I have to take you back even further, to March of 2018, and concludes in 2021. Because it's about kittens, but it's also about business and all the things that can go wrong.

In March 2018, tragedy struck. The owner of the flower shop died unexpectedly, leaving the business to four capable managers. One of those managers was the man that had hired me, leaving a power vacuum at our location. Grandpa was not the first choice to take the lead, but she stepped up and she became manager. In my opinion, there was no better person for the role: she had only ever worked in the flower industry (assuming we're not counting the one week in 1976 when she worked at a pizza parlor,) and as such she knew the business inside and out.

Prior to this, she had taught all of the designers and practically ran the place when the boss was out, so it was the next logical step. And it was good.

Of course, we had our ups and downs. What I did not realize when I joined the flower shop is that the flower industry is volatile- there are so many variables that went into the creation of floral pieces and if there is one misstep you can be set back anywhere from a day to several thousand dollars. There are late deliveries, there are frightening brides, there are missing piñatas… van fires, flower snobs, color corrections, failed psychics, friends, enemies…

You can set the bar so very low and yet…

The rise and fall of drama at this particular flower shop could be dictated into hours and minutes because sometimes you need to hire people just to fill that space. Grandpa was on record by saying 'if they can walk, talk, and spell their name, hire them.' Even so, we were critically understaffed most of the time because if you hire anyone you're going to get a lot of quitters.

It's a tough cycle to break, and our power was limited.

And we had bigger fish to fry: we had an average of thirty funerals, two weddings, and well over six hundred deliveries per week. Business was booming and we just had to keep up- if you make it one week after the next it doesn't feel so bad.

By March of the following year, the four owners had whittled down to two: my former boss and the former webmaster. We had a district manager now, some kind of accounts position… things like that. It was kind of astonishing that before this, all the work had been done by a single man. But the secrets to his success had died with him.

Things were looking good, actually: the flower business was full of life! We were doing all kinds of special events, starting contracts with businesses and getting our name out there. Drama still plagued us, but as far as I'm aware, that's par for the course for flower shops.

Then, in May 2019, tragedy struck. A tornado ripped straight down the street of our headquarters, demolishing the greenhouse and the historical building that it all started in. No one was injured, but the damages were devastating. Despite all this, we kept working.

We worked hard. And hard. And hard.

And though the new warehouse wasn't slated to be finished until 2021, we reached an equilibrium where things were okay.

But before I get to that, I made a promise to you.

It was a hot day in August and I was walking into my closing shift at 10am. After two years of working with roughly the same people, you got to learning how to tell when something was happening. I walked in to everyone staring at me and acting 'natural.' It never looks natural.

In the back of the store, there was a box that Cherry was standing very purposely in front of.

"What's in the-"

"Sh!" Grandpa spied through the window in the cooler door as someone swung out with a purchase. "Did you find something you like," she asked the customer, trotting over to help him at the register.

"What's happening," I asked Blue.

"Nothings happening, it just kind of… happened."

"Blue… what does that MEAN?"

"There's a customer here, I can't talk about it."

I am bursting at the seams to know what's going on.

Grandpa fared the customer well and went back to her station behind the computer. "Open the box," she said.

Ominous, but okay. I go over to the box and Cherry steps aside. There's something moving inside the box and I wonder if Pam's daughter had folded herself into a box to ride out a panic attack again. I carefully opened the flaps of the box and accidentally disturbed the sleep of-

Four.

Tiny.

KITTENS!

Oh my god, it was the most adorable thing in the world and the poor things were screaming because they had only known the world for a few weeks and everything was strange and blurry and all they knew to do was cuddle for warmth and scream. The box consisted of two black kittens, one tuxedo kitten, and a white seal-point with terminal eye goop.

They immediately started climbing up my arm.

"Not that I'm not thrilled, but… why?"

"Stray cat left her babies out by my pond and wasn't just gonna leave the little fuckers," Grandpa said. The seal-point made it all the way up my shoulder to scream in my ear and stare at me with one clear blue eye. "That one's name is Pop-eye. He's my favorite."

"Jake doesn't get along with them," I surmised. Jake was Grandpa's Australian Shepherd. He was old, blind, deaf, and losing his sense of smell. And he was ornery.

"First thing he did was sit on Pop-eye. So they're gonna be at the shop during the day until we can get them all homed. Know anyone that needs a kitten?"

So, for awhile, we had shop cats. One of the all black twins had been claimed the very next day, but the rest of them were with us for some time. We got very good at feeding them all every hour on the hour and eventually they settled into accepting that 'mom' was seven different people.

In the meantime, we had to hide the three of them from visiting management.

This was not my first round with cat-related crimes.

The district manager, Puppet, was due to come for a visit any time that week. He was supposed to come once a month for a routine check in, and there were only ten days left in August. Likewise, we had to hide the kittens from the customers on the off chance that one of them was a secret shopper.

Backtracking once more to explain: the company had shelled out money to pay a third party to send secret shoppers to grade us on a rubric and also whatever they thought was appropriate. The grades were cleanliness, customer service, how knowledgeable we were of products, things like that. If we got above 90%, there would be a bonus in our next paycheck.

Sounds great, right?

The spies could decide that anything wasn't up to their standard. One woman went on and on about our 'black wall,' which was the outside of our cooler and I'm sorry but… that's not changing. There was a complaint that the table at the front used to showcase our bridal seemed out of place and odd. There dirt in the flower pots… where dirt goes. Corporate reads those comments.

So keeping the children out of sight of the customers and any visiting management became our priority.

'So just keep them in the break room,' I hear you, the reader, suggest.

If you've never owned cats, it is imperative for you to know that they are mostly comprised of spine, and only the smallest of openings will deter them from squeezing into parts unknown. Cats are semi-solids. Kittens are semi-solids with a sense of adventure and little tiny needles for fingernails.

And you can't just tape the box shut.

So… they got out. Well, two of them got out. The tuxedo awoke to find that her brothers had gone exploring without her and did the sensible thing, which was cry about it.

Mood.

I have named this cat Brood X Cicada. The black one can be named Abyss. I'm great at naming cats.

Lucky for us, they're only a few weeks old and walk kind of like little tin soldiers. It took all of five minutes to pry Pop-eye from a piece of Styrofoam and locate Abyss exploring an old toolbox. However, by the time I'm done cat collecting, Brood X Cicada had toddled off in search of her brothers and I'm out of hands to hold kittens in. I stuffed Abyss into my apron pocket and tried to save X from eating plastic.

It is at this moment that Cherry came in to tell me that Puppet the District Manager was on his way, and saw that I was helplessly juggling kittens. Abyss was climbing out of my pocket, eager to join his siblings in the high and exalted position that was my hands.

"We need these kittens out of here," I said. "Who hasn't been on lunch yet?"

Cherry dodged her head back into the workshop. "Hey Key, you been on lunch?" Pause. "You wanna go now?"

Key came into the back room and I handed her the box of kittens. "Take these, in your car. Go to burger King or something, I don't care. Puppet cannot see these. If anyone asks, you're on a route."

Key held the box and took a moment to appreciate the series of events that lead to her being handed a box of kittens in a 'Take this, don't ask questions' kind of matter.

Puppet was in the front door as Key was out the back and we successfully avoided a serious mistake. His visit was only an hour and she walked back in without anyone the wiser.

We made it through the big challenge, now to continue looking for homes for them. Ms. Crow found a friend of a friend of a friend that was excited to take Abyss from us. After some interrogating my friends, I found someone who knew someone who could take Pop-eye and Brood X Cicada. (They were renamed Hocus and Pocus.)

Grandpa cried for every single one of them that had to go. And I remembered my very first day of working there when she introduced herself as 'The Tinman.' What a liar, the softy.

Our days went on kitten-free, the management none the wiser.

It was December when I got the feeling that I should be taking photos of my work to build a portfolio. Something wasn't right, I felt. I couldn't say what it was that put me on edge, but I could only say that all was not well. I took photos of everything that I was proud of, and I was proud of a lot of things. By February, I had over fifty items that I could show off to a potential studio. And I thought- in March, I should start looking to see if other shops are hiring.

And in March 2020, tragedy struck. Our state went into lockdown on March 13, dictating that all non-essential businesses close and non-essential staff be laid off. There were two days where none of us knew what was happening, if we had jobs or if that job was safe.

They laid off all but three designers and Grandpa but kept most the drivers, changed our hours to 8-5, closed Sundays. Canceled weddings. No walk-ins. The three designers were Blue, Red, and me.

Blue was worried about her children. She resigned.

Red's wife was worried about him and harassed him into quitting.

And then there was one.

There's a series of poems I wrote in my journal about being an essential worker during lockdown. There's adorable little doodles of skeletons around the margins, festooned with flowers. They all go something like this:

We are the Skeleton Crew.

We once were seven but now are two

We don't know what to do

So we just work, work, work.

Many may wonder how a flower shop would be considered an essential business. The answer is funerals. We were allowed to remain open because of our relationship with the funeral industry. And sad to say: the industry was booming.

And I did all of it. I made every spray, every 'get well soon' vase, every 'happy quarantine' bouquet. I called angry brides to see if they could postpone, I dealt with everyone's grief and uncertainty.

All the flowers that arrived at US Customs through Italy were destroyed because we didn't know whether coronavirus was transmitted through physical contact and there's no way to sanitize flowers. Not without killing them.

It was me and Grandpa. That was it. Ten funerals a day, and everything else. Flowers were more important than ever: you couldn't be there, so you sent flowers. And flowers and flowers and flowers…

I couldn't leave now. I was important, I was needed.

The work became overwhelming for both of us and we began hiring back some of our staff. Some came back right away, bored out of their skulls having to spend time at home. Can't relate. Key never responded, Cherry was pregnant and shouldn't be out of the house.

Dandy came back, Kali came back, Astra came back. Eventually, Blue. After a month of just me and Grandpa, there was almost a full crew and it was enough for us to get through an average week. It took us a month on our bare knuckles but we finally weren't shouldering the responsibility of seven people.

But we still didn't know jack shit about the future there.

In May, the 'economy opened up,' which is a strategic way of saying that people got tired of never leaving the house and stores were pressured to open back up again before a vaccine was released under threat of… you know what? This isn't a story about how America responded to the coronavirus poorly and you can probably find a better thinkpiece about it written by someone with facts and feelings if you want to squeeze yourself behind a pay wall.

This is about workers rights and kittens, two things that are far more important than the economy.

We got 'Hero Pay,' which was two dollars extra per hour and damn did I grasp onto that with the tendons in my wrists. I had never been paid $12 an hour for anything in my life. They started talking about permanent raises, and benefits, 401K, pregnancy leave… and I started thinking… maybe I could stay. Maybe I can stay here for awhile and it won't be so bad now that I'm getting paid actual human wages. Maybe it will be okay.

Life returned to an uneasy normal while we navigated mask laws, sanitation regulations, safety screens, and daily temperature checks. There are stories to tell about some less than great customers we'd had as people realized that they weren't coping with the pandemic as well as they thought, but they deserve their own entries.

We had a revolving door of open positions. If it wasn't a designer it was a driver or both. People weren't ready to come back to work yet but we still had a business to run. People asked if they could perform this job remotely. I'm not sure how one does flowers from home.

It was August when we started feeling the roots of our problems seep into the foundation.

Grandpa's pride and joy was her funerals. She had spent thirteen years building a relationship with the funeral homes in the area to make sure they trust us and our work. If anything was wrong, even a hair out of place, they knew they could call us and have it fixed before the visitation.

"We want unity across the board on our products," Puppet said. "If you're doing the sprays one way and others don't look the same, it doesn't look very good for Oldman Funeral Home, which has locations in all our cities, does it?" He swept his bangs out of his eyes, which was strange tell but we weren't sure for what.

"Okay," Grandpa said. "Schedule a time for me to go down and I'll teach them the way we do them."

"Okay, then."

She went down, prepared to show the crew in the warehouse what 40 years in the business was capable of, only to be met with a strange kind of resistance.

Their head designer greeted her and immediately started instructing her on how he makes sprays. Grandpa, confused, blinked at him with no words. When he was finished, she picked up her clippers and began making her own.

"That's not how we do it," he said. She was met with criticism after criticism. "That's not enough flowers, you're putting them in wrong, you're still making it one-sided. Why did you put the bow there, this looks nothing like our products."

She stood back after his barrage of blows to the ego. "I guess I'm a little confused."

"I'll say."

"Am I teaching you or are you teaching me?"

"I'm teaching you," he said. "Since they're going to all be made here from now on, they want me to show you how we make them in case of emergency."

She let that simmer. "That's not what I was told."

"You didn't think you were supposed to show me how you do it, did you? That doesn't make any sense. Why would we want to look like yours?"

"Oh, I dunno… maybe because we've kept up 30 accounts for 13 years and your location just lost your very last one because you can't make their delivery times and they're across the damn street."

This was how we learned that corporate was planning on taking our funerals from us.

Funerals were something I was immensely proud of. My ability to turn out a thousand dollar funeral order with limited stock was a subject of envy. I could take a phone order, make the flowers, and the deliver it all by myself within an hour. I was good. We were all good. And we trained anyone that stayed longer than two months how to do this because we wanted every person to be able to fix any problem.

And they wanted to take that away from us.

And they did. Because who was going to stop them?

'But what does that matter to you,' I hear you, the reader, ask. 'Surely this meant less work for you!'

Ah, but for the sprays to get to us, they had to come on a truck. Making them in-house meant that we knew we had them. We had to put our trust in corporate to deliver the goods to us by 7 am or we would have to make them day of.

There were days when the truck didn't come, or where only half the pieces were delivered, or a spray got left in the workshop an hour away. At least once a week, often more.

But you know… we adapted. You just schedule more openers to make sure no one is doing it alone and hope to God that you have all the flowers you need to make it. Which you could never anticipate how many flowers you would actually need because them taking our funerals was supposed to reduce the amount of stock flowers we got as well.

Mornings were nightmares, but we adapted.

Another visit, Puppet told Grandpa that she should get all weekends off. All the other managers do. He suggested that I learn to run routes so she can have weekends, and I said okay. I'll learn it.

I got real acquainted with the map of Ohio, and I hated it. I was a weekend manager with no real managerial power. If someone needed a refund, I had to write a note for Grandpa to email the accounts manager because she wouldn't take requests from anyone that wasn't a manager. Everything just waited until Monday. What was the point of me? I couldn't design while managing and I couldn't fix what was broken, so why even have a weekend manager? Let the animals loose in the zoo and it probably would have been a better fit.

But I powered through. I adapted.

Throughout all this, spreadsheets. Spreadsheets, spreadsheets, spreadsheets. Completely pointless spreadsheets that we were bound to fill out all day every day. They had simple purposes: inventory. You filled one out to take count of the specials so you knew how many there were. Then you had to count again to put them in the system so that they knew how much we had. Then you had to go back and count them again and put that number in the computer so they knew how much to make and send tomorrow.

I spent an hour each day counting and recounting the flowers in the far-off and futile hope that the counts would remain accurate to the end of the day (which they did not because the call center consistently used the wrong codes) and that the stock would be replenished properly in the morning (it was not.)

An hour was lost each day to this and it accomplished nothing, yet they always yelled at Grandpa if the counts were off or it was late. Why stress a system that does jack shit?

And every time there was a new feature or there was a new… thing, oh look! Another goddamned redundant spreadsheet that served no purpose.

But we adapted. We created a rhythm.

Show up early at 6:30 to make sure everything got in, make everything that didn't, get the drivers routed, pull routes for the third party deliveries, process same-day orders, data entry for the funeral consolidated. Then at 7, when the phones start ringing…

Okay, so before I forget:

Instead of installing a new phone line and hiring a few more call center people like a normal company would, our headquarters decided it would save us money if call overflow rerouted to the next available phone line, regardless of which location the phone was at. So we would get calls for the Kentucky store asking questions about what that store has and for the sake of preserving confidence in our brand we were supposed to pretend that we were the Kentucky store. We're just supposed to know or assume to know what each store had in stock because there's no way that could ever backfire.

It was… another thing to yell at us for. And boy did they, because they were listening in on our calls. Not to like… coach us on how to do better, but to tell us we were wrong. Sometimes they would call one of us on the other line to tell someone currently on the main one that they said something wrong. They also would straight up lie and scold us for calls we didn't take. The phones system, was simply a mess.

...so when the phones started up at 7am, and one person is designing, one person is taking unending phone orders, Grandpa is doing damage control. By 8, we have most of last nights orders figured out and it's time to start on same day orders and tomorrow's orders. It's too early to do inventory now because they'll yell at us for doing it too early.

By 9 we have our second wave of same day orders and next day orders, the rest of the world realizes we're open and starts walking in. That requires the attention of an entire person. We're at this point also taking out trash, breaking down boxes, disinfecting, sweeping the cooler.

Typically, there were only two openers on any given day, which meant most of this was all being handled by Blue or me.

By 10 we've caught up, we can do the inventory now without getting yelled at by the four heads at corporate. We're on route #3 by now and someone probably had to go to the same place twice because the orders came in late.

At 11, a crisis has probably happened. Something dropped, something wilted, something wasn't what they imagined. Someone has to go fix it, and that someone was usually me because I knew my way around town better than the other transplants.

This typically returned me to the shop around 1pm, which meant it was time for lunch, bringing me to 2. 3 o'clock was the cutoff for any next day orders to be sent to corporate, which meant that if there were any funeral orders taken for the morning, they would have to be made in-house. This included sprays, which takes half an hour to an hour depending on how complicated it was and if we had the materials and how much else we needed to make for the next day. Or how busy we were.

There was always something called in at the last minute, taking us to 4 and then 5 o'clock, when the openers went home and the same-day orders were cut off.

But see, that was when we stopped taking orders, not when we stopped processing orders. So if an order was placed for the same day at 4:59, it may not go through until 5:30. And by 5:30, chances are you've sent your drivers home for the day. Which means calling the customer to apologize and explain why something can't be sent out today, and no one wants to hear that they fucked up by sending it out late.

So, on more than one occasion, I had to personally deliver flowers on my way home from work in my personal car, thirty minutes out of my way because if we miss a delivery by God will we hear about it. And it was always some damn $25 arrangement with 'God Loves You' written on the tag, hardly worth the gas to Johnstown.

The irony of it being delivered by the witch was lost on no one.

If that didn't happen and the screen was clear, the night was easy and all we had to do was clean up and watch the door.

Unless a last minute order for the next day came in, which was about half the time. All of this for $11 an hour. (Once they got rid of the Hero Pay, it went back down to $11.)

That was an average, unexciting day for us. You got used to those kinds of stresses, but every day I came home and I was so tired and sore that I couldn't move. I started walking with a cane, had a low-grade fever most days, and my hands looked like I'd taken to them with a cheese grater.

But I powered through. I adapted.

Then it was December. The owners had always been generous with Christmas bonuses, handing everyone an envelope of cash. Mine was $500. This was the largest amount of cash that anyone had ever handed me (feel bad for me later.)

And then it was Grandpa's turn, but there were no envelopes left. It had to be a mistake, she thought. She didn't get paid very much for all the work she put into the shop, so she was counting on that bonus to buy presents for her grandchildren. It… it… had to be a mistake, right?

"I didn't get a bonus," she said. "I thought the accountability didn't take effect until January," she said to Puppet.

Before he opens his mouth again, I have to explain yet another thing.

In September, there was a meeting. Now that we were working on benefits and bonus programs and other things to make sure the staff stays, they needed to put in accountability measures for the managers. Effective January 1, managers are reflected by the income of their store, the number of returns, accidents in company vehicles, and high turnover rates.

Pick one of those attributes and decide its bullshit to begin with, and I'm about to show you the entire steer.

"We had to make an example of someone," he said. "So that the other managers know we're serious."

She was being personally punished for a car wreck that happened in 2019 even though she fired the guy that was in it. We had too many returns, he said, but most of them were sent to us from corporate. She was personally held responsible for the high turnover rate during an economic crisis AND a goddamned pandemic… because they needed to make an example out of someone.

And her grandkids didn't get presents this year because of it.

She cried. The last time I saw her cry was when we were saying goodbye to the kittens. It's not the same.

But she got up every day and listened to them scream at her while we counted and counted and recounted the fucking Christmas specials because the numbers weren't right and we couldn't make them right because someone in the call center couldn't figure out the codes and in their eyes it was our fault, too- we had to be stealing the flowers or something.

"It sucks and then its over," she said. It was how she dealt with holidays: "It sucks and then its over."

We were all angry for her. I got asked to go to the headquarters and help them mass produce more fucking specials and I offered the beat them up for her and she told me not to get involved. Head down, do the work, get it done.

One of the call center girls died of a heart attack a few days before I was due to help them mass. We were supposed to go to her funeral, but we all missed it because there was so much work to do.

Wait, let me back up… again. The company gave us all life insurance. The number we were quoted on our life insurance policy was $10,000, which seems like a lot but in the funeral business it's not. Your average funeral will eat up most of that, if not all. It's very expensive to die right now.

At least… we all thought it was $10k. I was certainly told $10k.

Turns out it was $1k, which isn't enough to buy you a box for your remains. The call center crew ended up crowdsourcing the rest- she didn't have much family.

And none of us could go to the funeral because we were working.

I worked two twelve hour shifts in that warehouse making the same goddamn centerpiece over and over again while a Frenchman in a scarf told me I was doing it wrong, while everyone was grieving on a time crunch.

I really should have beaten them up.

But we got through Christmas, for what it was worth. We found Grandpa some sales that she could get gifts from and we all worked together to make sure we were okay through it. I mean, we weren't- it was blind leading the blind. But we tried.

And then it ended. "It sucks and then its over," she'd always say.

And into January we go and we're back into the stupidity of trying to fight with hq about funerals. I'm constantly told that if we needed certain things we should have ordered them.

I… did. I did. I ordered everything we needed every damn day and it still never came because the left hand and the right hand can't even coordinate enough to pull off a high-five. But it can't be their fault. It has to be Grandpa's somehow.

Now during the week of Christmas, Grandpa had to take an extra day off because she got sick. It wasn't Covid, thank goodness. I can imagine it was a stress-related issue, but it's not my business. Due to the holiday, this put her at under 40 hours for the week.

So they paid her hourly.

...which is extremely illegal to do to a salaried employee, especially one that works way more than 40 hours a week with no overtime.

And then they told her that she'd already lost her quarterly bonus because of a fender-bender that happened on my watch, and because she lost 39 employees last quarter.

I write everything down. I keep a journal. I cannot find 39 employees, even going back the entire year… during a pandemic. They have to be making this up. They have to be because there is no way they can hold the dude that was fired for literally sleeping in the men's room against her.

And I was close to just telling them all that… when my grandma died.

I'm not getting into it, really. Because you know… she was 96 years old and… it happens. It's sad, but it happens. But the relevant point to make is that I was given an… inheritance. It wasn't a lot. Grandma wasn't loaded. But it would be enough for me to keep afloat for awhile if I ever needed to.

When I told my girlfriend, she said: 'you could quit your job.'

And I didn't want to think about that because the flower shop needed me. I was important there. I was special. And Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

But I was thinking about it. I thought about it every day.

A week before Valentines Day, Grandpa was inconsolable. She had to leave work because her dog, Jake, wouldn't stop bleeding. She needed to get him to the vet.

Two hours pass and Blue gets a message asking her to come help her move the dog. Grandpa lives alone and she's not very strong.

Blue doesn't like dogs. She was bitten by one the first time she ever made a delivery.

And I am known for exceptional physical strength. So I went.

When I arrived, Grandpa was a mess. I had never seen her cry so much, and it wouldn't stop. And I was trying to be strong, but it's hard. Jake was still alive, but bleeding. He was confused and upset, and blind and deaf. He barked, he growled, and he lunged… but always pulled back when his legs buckled from the pain.

I had her grab a blanket and we rolled him onto it, using that to lift him. He thrashed and growled and snapped at me while we walked him towards the door, but he wasn't getting out of the wrap we had him in.

As we're out the door, I noticed a man at the neighboring house. He raised his hand in greeting, but lowered it in confusion.

"Grandpa, is it alright if I get him to come help while you bring the car around?"

The best she could do was nod.

"Yeah, sorry, to bug you but can I ask for a little help here?" He looks at what we're doing and drops his trash can lid to come help. "Yeah, just take that end there and we're gonna ease him into the car when she comes around."

He nodded, took the ends, and we tucked a very confused Jake into the back seat. I thanked the neighbor, Grandpa sped off, and I went back to work feeling extremely odd about it.

That was the first time that I'd ever met the dog: on his way to be put down.

I know it seems weird to tell that story, but there's a reason. Part of it is symbolic. Part of it has to do with kittens. But we're not there just yet.

So now it's February and it is crunch time for Valentine’s Day. We have no earthly idea what this holiday is going to look like because past experiences have us anticipating a large number of walk ins, but state regulations have put a limit of six customers inside the store at any one time. We were never given any… instructions on how to enforce that rule, so we just kind of vaguely set out roles for who has to be the bouncer at the flower shop.

But before all of that, we had to make 275 two-dozen red rose arrangements in bowls. Based on our sales last year and general growth, we were expecting something close to five hundred deliveries on our busiest day. If I wasn't making them, I was counting them. And I was counting, and I was counting, and I was counting… every hour, just like it was at Christmas. We used up every single red rose in the place and came up short.

To which we were scolded: we must have used the roses they sent us for other orders because there was no way the error could have been on their end! Their inventory was impervious to mistakes. Somewhere between the warehouse and our store, twenty-five packs of roses went missing! And why is it only our store that has these problems? Clearly it must be our fault- a store full of thieves and liars and delinquents.

They ended up sending more just because… you know… they care. I guess.

And every hour, they needed a number of something and I counted, and counted and counted…

I think it was February 8 that I started crying every day. When I slept I was stiff as a board because I made so many mistakes throughout the day that the idea of coming to work the next day just to make more mistakes made me lock up entirely. There was no way to relax. There was no winding down from a hard day of work because my body could not move anymore.

I felt like I was made of splintering wood.

I had a dream around this time that I quit my job. I was so happy. I thought about it almost every hour.

So I stayed out of the way at work, picking up cleaning projects because at least there I could be useful and it was dark enough in the cooler that if I started crying no one had to see it.

That cooler was so clean. I wouldn't recommend eating off of it because I used an entire bottle of bleach to clean the floor.

If we're not counting the constant barrage of demands from corporate to count, count, count; Valentine’s Day was worryingly uneventful. Previous holidays were chaotic: filling the requests of the most desperate and clueless men with deep pockets and expensive tastes. Corralling the temporary drivers and make sure no one gets into any crashes or… uh...tries to sell unregulated merchandise from their trunks. Trying to decide what "Malibu Barbie Pink" meant for that one customer who comes in every six months and orders it but has rejected every color pink on the spectrum that our store has ever offered.

On this one… nothing important happened.

We were… slow.

Grandpa started sending people home early because there weren't many orders. We ran out of projects to do.

Sounds great, right?

...heh…

Corporate would like to know why our store is under projected sales by over 200, as if we have any say in how many people buy from us. Like we personally called all our typical customer base and told them not to come to this store. "Yes, hello Mrs. Penderghast? I'm sorry we can't fill your Valentine's Day order this year because we suck balls and don't want your business. Have a nice weekend. Say hi to the grandkids for me."

I don't… fucking KNOW! I don't work in PR! I'd ask the people in that department if they know what happened but… that's the owners. So who really is the fuckup here? Not me, that's for fucking certain! I cleaned the cooler. That's all I did all weekend was clean the Gods damned cooler because there wasn't enough work to go around so I made work for myself.

And then: "Why are the counts off," asked Mt. Rushmore. See, we called them that because between the owners, Puppet, and the head designer we had four white men looking down at us while we did all the work and built their success on the backs of their forefathers. Well… to me it was anyway. To everyone else it was four dudes that looked down on you.

"Why are the counts off?"

Oh, the COUNTS are off? Well, let me just drop everything I'm doing right now and count them for the third time in the past hour because that takes fucking priority.

"There's 95 specials missing from your inventory. Where are they?"

...okay, 95 is a lot. But it was also kind of hard to know how they were 'missing' when we'd sold all of the 275 that we made. How can they be missing if we sold them.

"We need to know where they are."

We don't know where they are. Because we sold all of them. The math didn't add up.

But they hounded us about it like we'd stolen them and resold them on the street corner. Which, to their defense, had happened once (but Sugar stopped doing that when her corner was taken over by the woman who accused Jay of being a demon.) But 95 is a huge number, and these arrangements were a foot wide and two feet tall. Someone would have noticed if a 100x200 foot square opened up in the cooler.

We literally could not know what the fuck they were talking about.

And the truth was extremely stupid: those 95 pieces were redeliveries. When someone has an issue with their order, like it didn't come or it was left out in the snow and got damaged or… someone put the name of their ex on the card instead of their wife… we send a replacement. But depending on who took the phone call, a person might use the wrong code and put it in for 'redeliver' instead- which counts it as another order.

We weren't missing 95 arrangements. We had 95 redeliveries. They hounded us about inventory for two days over a clerical error.

I decided I'd had it. We were going on a full week of crying every time I had a moment alone. They had made us feel like everything that went wrong was our fault: from low turnout to high turnover, missed deliveries and trashed sprays, lost accounts and new grievances…

But did they ever say a Gods damned thing about how hard we worked? How good we were? About how great a team we were under pressure? We once pulled together an entire wedding in fifteen minutes. My ass carried this store through the pandemic. I have done… so much.

So fucking much.

And yet it's our fault.

I had been reasoning with myself that I would stick around for the aftermath when Grandpa was eventually fired: we'd all felt it was coming. But I got that little bit of cash and all my joints were screaming and every time we got negative feedback a part of me died.

The following Tuesday had seen a massive snowstorm. Things that weren't already closed due to the pandemic were closed due to weather.

But we still had to be there. Because someone had to be there to make all the funeral pieces.

Because there wouldn't be a truck the next day, which meant that all of the funeral pieces that we'd sent to the headquarters needed to be made in-house. Which, once again, could have been avoided if we had kept the funeral orders in-house to begin with.

I waited until everyone had cleared out before I said it.

"Grandpa, I have to quit."

I don't think anyone ever looked so disappointed in me in my life.

"Why?"

"The way they treat people here is terrible and I can't see myself doing another Mother's Day for this company. They're so… mean! And for no damn reason! I have cried every day for the past week because I see the way they treat you and I'm… I'm tired."

I thought she was going to cry, but she nodded. "I can't stop you," she said. "I shouldn't stop you. If it's affecting your mental health like this, I'll miss you but its for the best. You know they'll want a written notice."

"And you know I'll tell them the truth," I said.

"...it's not me, is it?"

"If I worked for just you and those fuckers were out of the picture, I would stay. And you can count on me to tell them that."

"Any flower shop you apply to would be lucky to have you."

So I drafted up a resignation letter telling them exactly how I feel: that the way they run this company was asinine and they treated their employees like garbage. They received it on Thursday. Everyone at the shop knew by then. They were upset…

...but they understood.

Puppet did not understand. He emailed Grandpa asking her what she's doing that her people keep leaving.

He didn't see it. He didn't see that he was part of the problem. It always had to be someone else's fault. I explicitly said in my letter whose fault it was and he still didn't take any responsibility.

But suddenly I'm one of their best designers, and he begged me to reconsider, take some time off to think about it. They desperately wanted me to stay and they were willing to bargain, I just needed demands.

No one's ever… begged me before. I don't know if I like that.

This is when it dawned on me that I was next in line. It all made sense now: training me to route, making me do all the extra work, and now they want me to stay?

They were planning on getting rid of Grandpa and promoting me to manager. In a perfect world where Grandpa resigns willingly and I’m promoted on my merits as a designer and the company wasn’t very quickly circling the drain, I would be excited. But I wasn’t. I was frightened. I watched them take a confident, extremely talented woman and turn her into the whipping boy of the flower shop. And if I were in her position, I would have quit. But I don’t have the strength to stand up to the people that are signing my paycheck.

Why… am I at a place where the idea of moving upward makes me more scared than excited?

Flattering, but no. I've seen how you treat your people. My demands are to treat them better.

It was the longest week for me: making lists of pros and cons. I had made a lot of friends there and there's stuff that I will never forget. But the fact that the only people who didn't understand why I was leaving were the people who had the most to lose really hit me in the knees. I could tell them every day for the rest of their lives why they suck and it wouldn't matter because nothing was ever their fault.

And at 7:00 on Friday, I turned in my key.

I didn't have a plan, I didn't have anything lined up. This was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make and I was just kind of… throwing myself at it.

I don't do that. I always have a plan. I look into every possible scenario and I try to make the smart choice. And this time…

I didn't.

It was probably stupid.

But I slept for 12 hours the next night and I could feel my bones settling into their rightful places. I didn't realize how many health problems were caused by standing for 9 hours a day, 11 days a week until I was home all the time to notice them changing. I will always have a limp from trying to pretend I don't have a limp. I'm pretty sure that ulcer is chronic. But my back isn't seizing up and I don't cry every day anymore.

That's something, I think.

About a week after my departure, I got a text from Grandpa that said:

"Hey guess what."

"What," I replied.

The next text was a picture of a week's old seal-point kitten with terminal eye-goo, wrapped in a towel.

"Pop-eye!?"

"I'm keeping this one," she said. The strays had dropped a litter of identical baby kittens by her pond. Two years later, with Jake put down, she could finally have Pop-eye, even if it was version 2.0.

The next text was a few days later. "Puppet fired me."

"What!? Why?"

"Too many accidents, too high turnaround. The new people suck, he says no one wants to work with me."

"Are you okay? How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." She paused and the loading screen did its little dot dance. "I'm playing with my kitten."

#cw #pet death #death #workers rights violations #if you want to know everything #this is everything

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