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softlass27 · 4 years

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Aaron Week Day 5: “You tricked me!”

AO3 link here

Aaron Dingle is not a cat person. He has never been a cat person – give him a happy, energetic dog he can play fetch with any day.

So why won’t this furry little shit leave him alone?

One evening a few weeks ago, he’d been sat in his living room, minding his own business, when he looked up from his NME magazine to see an orange face watching him from his balcony.

Letting out a startled yelp that he was glad no one heard, Aaron had stared at the ginger tabby cat in the doorway. The cat had stared back. Aaron narrowed his eyes. The cat narrowed its eyes right back at him.

Shaking his head, he’d tilted the magazine a little higher so that he blocked his view of the fur ball outside. By the time he’d finished reading it, he lowered the pages to see an empty balcony. The cat was gone. He forgot all about it.

Until the next evening. It had been warmer that night, and Aaron had left the balcony door open for a cooling breeze. He’d been pottering about in the kitchen, making himself some beans on toast, when he heard a quiet “mrow” behind him.

“What the – ”

Aaron had whirled around to see the same ginger tabby – at least he thought it was the same ginger tabby – sitting innocently on the floor behind him.

“What the hell d’you think you’re doing?”

The cat licked a paw primly.

“You don’t live here, get out.”

Nothing.

Aaron sighed, dropping the tins of beans on the counter before gingerly picking the cat up, praying it didn’t have fleas, and putting it out on the balcony. As he quickly slid the door shut behind him, the cat looked at him with an outraged expression on its face.

“I see that collar round your neck, go to your own home!”

Instead the cat rolled to its side, putting on a real show of stretching out languidly and making itself comfortable. Essentially a massive fuck you right to Aaron’s face.

Aaron snorted. “Whatever.”

So now he’s got himself in a situation where this ginger nightmare appears on his balcony every day without fail. Always staring at Aaron, giving him grief and trying to mess with his head. It’s a little like having a tiny, fluffy stalker.

The point of no return comes on the day the damn thing learns how to open the sliding balcony door by itself (the lock broke months ago and he hasn’t gotten around to doing anything about it), and Aaron comes out of his bedroom to see it sitting in the kitchen sink. It hisses when Aaron tries to move it, and Aaron very nearly hisses back.

Despite his less-than welcoming attitude, the thing never takes the hint, returning over and over again.

“Why me, eh?” Aaron asks as he scratches the animal behind the ears one day (probably a mistake). “All the flats you could go to in this building, why’s it my doorstep you darken?”

Aaron trudges through the entrance to his building one Friday night, shaking rainwater out of his hair. It's been a week of long shifts at the garage where he works, topped off with the day from hell, one stupid customer after another coming through like the place had a revolving door.

Adam texted him earlier, trying to get him to come on a night out, and his mother’s also been trying to get him to come to the village for his tea, but he’s ignoring them both. All he wants to do is get into his flat, collapse on his bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

As he walks up the stairs to his floor, he hears a familiar arrogant voice coming from above him, and mentally curses. The last thing he wants to do is run into Tall Blond Arsehole right now, but there’s no escape route.

Tall Blond Arsehole had moved into a flat on the floor above Aaron’s a few weeks ago – the penthouse. The first time Aaron had seen him, the bloke had been on his phone and been coming into the building just as Aaron was leaving. He’d been walking at top speed and had bumped Aaron had on the shoulder as they had passed each other.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” Aaron had grumbled, just loud enough for the man to hear him.

The man barely paused, throwing a quick glare over his shoulder and snapping “You watch it, mate.” before returning to his phone conversation and disappearing up the stairs.

They hadn’t spoken since that morning, and that suited Aaron just fine. Tall Blond Arsehole doesn’t seem to talk to anyone in the building, always on that bloody phone yelling at some poor sod named Jimmy, nattering on about contracts, deals and meetings. Nothing more than a boring businessman with an over-inflated sense of his own importance.

(He’s also incredibly fit, but that’s by the by.)

Now, Tall Blond Arsehole comes breezing down the flight of stairs, dressed in one of his usual sharp suits and barely sparing Aaron a glance as he passes by him. Aaron rolls his eyes, before continuing up the stairs and practically falling through the door to his flat.

He shuffles down the hallway to his bedroom, not even stopping to take his hoodie and jeans off before collapsing on top of the covers.

“Mrrrp.”

Aaron’s eyes fly open instantly and he rips the duvet back to reveal a curled up orange ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He shoots the cat an incredulous look. “My bed now?”

The demonic creature just uncurls and glares at him, as if Aaron’s the one who invaded its space, rather than the other way around.

“How did you even – you know what, fuck it. M’too knackered to give a shit. Do whatever you want.”

He slides under the duvet and lets his eyes fall shut. A few moments later, he feels slight movement next to him, and then soft warmth pressing against him. He falls asleep with the cat purring against his chest.

He awakes to knocking at the door. Blearily opening his eyes, Aaron realises that it’s much later now, the room pitch black. Too late to move.

Determined to ignore the noise – whatever the hell this person wants will have to wait – he rolls over until his face hits something soft and fluffy.

“Jesus Christ!” He jerks up and fumbles to switch the lamp on, the low light revealing the ginger nightmare still lying in his bed. “Oh God, you’re still here.”

The cat paws at the strings of Aaron’s hoodie, seemingly unconcerned by the fact it had nearly given him a heart attack. The knocking at the door starts up again. It’s louder this time and a quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly two o’clock in the bloody morning. For fuck’s sake.

Aaron staggers out into the living room and flings the door opening roughly, ready to tell whoever it is exactly where to go, only to find Tall Blond Arsehole standing in front of him.

He looks different to usual, smart clothes swapped for a soft-looking blue t-shirt and grey pair of jogging bottoms. His hair has lost its neat style, sticking up in all directions as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and instead of looking cocky, his entire being seems to be full of panic and distress.

“Uh… ” The furious words Aaron had been about to bark die on his throat, and he vaguely wonders if he’s still asleep and this is just part of some weird dream.

“Oh… it’s you,” the man says, a hint of awkwardness creeping in his expression.

“Er, yeah. What’s up?”

“Um, I’m sorry, I know it’s really late… ”

“It’s okay,” Aaron finds himself saying without meaning to. Christ, he must be going soft.

“I’m just… I’m looking for my cat. He’s a ginger tabby, has a blue collar and I can’t find him anywhere. Have you seen him by any chance?”

That little fucker.

Aaron grabs the man’s arm and pulls him into the living room.

“Wait here a sec.”

Aaron jogs back to his bedroom and picks up the cat, who rubs its head under his chin (probably thinks it’s getting a cuddle), and returns to the living room.

“Pippin!” Tall Blond Ars – okay, maybe just Tall Blond for now – gasps, taking the cat from Aaron’s arms and cuddling him to his chest. “You absolute demon.”

The cat – Pippin – yowls loudly, its head turning to Aaron with a look he can only identify as betrayal. The damn thing barely reacts when Tall Blond fusses over him happily, stroking his fur with a thumb and pressing relieved kisses to his head.

Tall Blond finally looks up at him with shining eyes, and Aaron swears he feels his heart skip a beat. Shit.

“I’m – God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know where – I thought he might’ve – ” he rambles quickly, cradling the cat like a baby, and Aaron wonders how long his neighbour has been frantically searching for his pet demon. “I know he likes to go walkabout, but he hasn’t come home in days and… Sorry if he’s been a bother.”

Aaron frowns. “What? Days? No, he was just… oh.” His eyebrows raise in surprise. “He normally just comes and goes, lets himself out. I haven't been home much these last few days, I didn’t realise he’d been staying.”

His gaze drifts down to Pippin, who now looks impossibly smug. “You tricked me, you little stowaway!”

Pippin sneezes unapologetically.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, before Aaron asks, “Pippin? Cute name. Doesn’t fit him at all.”

Tall Blond's face twitches into a smile. It makes his eyes crinkle in a way that has Aaron’s stomach doing somersaults, and Jesus Christ, how had he not noticed those freckles before?

“Yeah, it’s er… it’s from Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh. Never seen it.”

“You’ve never – ” Tall Blond’s eyes widen, scandalised. “You’re missing out.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, thanks for having him over… even if you didn’t know it? And sorry again.”

“S’no bother. At least now I know who to call when he knocks my plants off the windowsill.”

The smile drops off the man’s face and he looks down at Pippin.

“Pip, mate!” He scolds Pippin like he’s a naughty child, and the cat meows back at him angrily. “What the hell, we talked about this!”

It’s ridiculous. This attractive man and his argumentative cat are both ridiculous, and Aaron can’t help laughing slightly hysterically.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Again. How much do I owe you?”

“Mate, don’t worry about it.” Aaron waves away the man’s protest. “Honestly, I don’t care, they were just some cheap B&Q ones my mum forced me to get. Said my place needed brightening up or summat. Glad to have an excuse to be rid of them, if I’m honest, I’m hopeless at keeping plants alive.”

“Okay, if you’re sure… ” He still doesn’t look happy, though. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

The words fly out of his mouth before Aaron can stop them. “Buy me a pint if you like?”

The man blinks at him, before his mouth curls into a small (flirtatious?) smile. “A pint it is.”

“Okay. Great. Uhm, I’m Aaron, by the way,” Aaron smiles back as he opens the door so they can step into the corridor.

“Oh. Robert.” He gestures to the squirming cat. “And you know Pippin.”

“Good to finally have a name for him, I’ve just been calling him ginger nightmare most of the time.” He decides not to share what he’d been calling Robert up until now.

Robert's surprised laugh echoes loudly in the hallway and he presses a fist to his mouth to muffle it. Aaron looks at him, helplessly fond, and can’t help but wonder how the man he’s been silently hating for weeks on end and this man giggling in his pyjamas can possibly be the same person.

“I dunno, that’s pretty accurate,” Robert says eventually, still chuckling. “Well, I… should let you sleep. And thanks again, I know this was a bit… ”

“Random?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay.”

“So can I… pick you up tomorrow night for that drink? Around seven?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Great. Night, then.”

Aaron nods, watching Robert walk towards the staircase. They smile at each other one last time, and Robert disappears upstairs, Pippin’s meows still faintly audible.

Before he goes back to bed, Aaron spends twenty minutes scrolling through his phone for the best cat toy he can find. He owes Pippin a thank you present.

#a fluffy one after yesterday's angst!#robron #my writing #aaronweek2020

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years

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#MarichatMay Day 25+26

In which Marinette and Chat Noir adopt some kittens, and Marinette realises Chat is a lot more like a cat than she realised (also a prequel for the next prompt). Hope you enjoy!

@marichatmay

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Day 25: Blep + Day 26: Toe Beans

Marinette was feeling morose. She couldn’t quite say why, but something told her the last akumatisation had something to do with it. She had no memory of it, apart from another Ladybug coming in, erasing what she’d been writing on her gift for Adrien and the next thing she knew she was standing on the steps of the Trocadéro, empty-handed and an awfully bad feeling in her gut. She had put on a brave face, tried to pretend everything was alright, but there was a constant nagging, at the back of her head, accompagnied with flashes of bright white and icy blue, which distracted her a lot.

Chat and Adrien both noticed her change of mood in their interactions with her. Her classmate had thought, at first, that the characteristic slower pace of the ending school year could explain her lack of focus. But the lighthearted, funny, sunny girl he was used to hanging out with as Chat had also disappeared. She was almost apathetic at Home, her latest projects half-abandoned in various places in her room, but there was a restlessness, an anxious edge to her as well, that was seemingly soothed by Chat’s presence. He noticed that lying next to her, she would fall asleep easily, despite her comments on her current insomnia.

Marinette wanted to talk to Chat about how she was feeling. She really did. He was the only person who could probably understand. If she had been affected by previous events, surely he must have been too? She had tried to broach the subject with him, but she didn’t know how to go through with the conversation without saying something she shouldn’t. The fact she struggled with expressing her feelings didn’t worry Chat as much as the panic in her eyes when she talked about them did. He couldn’t think of a way to help her in the long run. He thought being there for her, while giving her emotional space, to let her process her feelings was probably the best he could do. He’d be damned if he’d leave her alone with her thoughts, and if he wouldn’t help her get a break from them sometimes, though.

Hence the kittens in Marinette’s room. Three babies Adrien hadn’t been able to resist as he walked by a pet store in the school vicinity. He’d immediately thought about Marinette as he saw them, how sure he was they would make her feel better. He’d found an alley to transform as he walked out and had gone straight to her place, mindful of the beings in the box he was carrying. He’d barely been able to contain his excitement as she let him in, her curiosity piqued by the container he was holding.

“Purr-incess, you’re going to love this!” He had opened the lid very slowly, as if performing a magic trick. She had gasped at the site of the baby cats, one of which was asleep.

“Chat they’re so cute!!” She squealed as she delicately picked one of the awake cats, an orange tabby cat, which meowed gently at her touch.

Chat mirrored her, cradling his own grey kitten and scratching its belly. “I meow, right?” He grinned as he felt the baby’s tiny claws on his glove.

“They’re so tiny! Look at the little toe beans!” She cooed in response to the meowing.

“Hey, how come you never compliment my toe beans?” Chat asked, slightly offended.

“You have toe beans?” His goal to distract her and amuse her was going very well, he noted.

“Purr-haps you should check for yourself.” Chat carefully set down the kitten he’d been holding out of the way before rolling onto his back and lifting his legs up so Marinette could see his feet.

“Oh my goodness, you actually do!” She gently placed the tabby in the box, and focused on the bright green squishy pads on her partner’s soles, an almost awe-struck expression on her face. She reached out to touch them.

“Whoa, there, Purr-incess, what do you think you’re doing?” Chat recoiled at her approaching hands.

“I want to touch them!” Her pout turned into an devilish grin as she slowly crawled closer to him. “Kitty, don’t tell me you’re... ticklish?”

“Me? Meow way!” He scoffed, although instinctively inching backwards as Marinette approached.

“Why don’t you stay still for a moment then, so I can test that theory?”

She got close enough to graze his foot, triggering a kicking instinct in him that she barely dodged, her usual escape reflexes impeded by the fact she was laughing.

The cristalline sound Chat hadn’t heard in a while filled the room, Marinette rolling on the ground, clutching her stomach as she gave in to the merriment. It felt so good to laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she had. Chat wiggled on the floor in delight, feeling satisfied. This was all his doing. What a great friend he was. He blepped unconsciously, closing his eyes as he basked in her laugh. It faltered a little as the girl tried to catch her breath, but the combined sight of Chat and the blepping kitten next to him sent her in another fit of giggles, complete with tears streaming down her face.

“Chat... I’d never noticed... how much... of a cat... you are!” She managed to fit between intakes of breath, fishing for her phone to take a picture.

Chat cocked an eyebrow as he opened an eye. “Being a cat is literally the job description, Purr-incess.”

Marinette managed to control her laughter enough to resume a normal conversation, although her shoulders still shook occasionally. “I know, but it just hit me! I knew about the purring, but you blep, too!!” She all but shoved the picture she’d taken in his face, her laughter erupting again. Adrien would have to move over. That photo was making it on her wall, next to her bed so she could wake up to it every morning.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you see my reaction to cucumbers.” He winked, turning to the kitten at his side which had started meowing.

“No wayyyyy.” She grinned.

Noise emerging from the box caught her attention. The third kitten was now awake, its green eyes contrasting with the black of its fur.

“Look, this one looks just like you!” She gasped as she lifted it out of the box. She stroked it lightly. The cat purred under her fingers, and attempted to lick them. “Aren’t you the cutest little kitty?” She cooed as she played with it, dodging its claws.

Chat felt a pang of jealousy, which he knew was completely uncalled for. How could he be jealous of a cat. He smiled at the sight of happy Marinette. He’d really missed her. He hoped she would get better soon.

“Do you want to keep it?” He blurted. He knew a pet could not replace a therapist, or someone to talk to in general, but it could be some well-needed emotional support.

“Really? Could I?” She looked up, and there was such joy in her eyes he wouldn’t have been able to refuse her even if he’d wanted to.

“Of course! If your parents are okay with it, of course, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble...” He thought of his own situation. He probably would get into trouble himself if his father found out he was harbouring two cats behind his back. Then again, he had managed to hide Plagg, and he was high maintenance. He was actually surprised no one in his household questioned the amount of expensive cheese he insisted on keeping in his room. His room was probably big enough to hide animals as well, but purr-haps leaving one here would be safer.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine with it, Papa’s been talking about getting a cat for a while. He says it’s to prevent mice from invading the bakery, but I think secretly he’s just soft for them.” She said in a hushed tone. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy here, Kitten Noir.” She added for the cat, lifting it up to eye level.

“Kitten Noir? Fur real?” Chat asked, his heart fluttering in his chest. She was naming the cat after him.

“It’s very fitting, don’t you think?” She shone a bright smile his way. “He can be our baby.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it.

Chat’s heart rate was off the charts at the sign of affection and the insinuation that they could be parents together. Holy Camembert, how much he would like that. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand, gathering his remaining kittens in an attempt to conceal his fiery cheeks.

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to come around more often to make sure he gets a paw-per upbringing. I don’t trust you to teach him puns.” Chat said, straightening up and trying to act casual.

“I would really like that, Kitty.” Marinette said softly, almost shyly, as she got up as well.

They walked up to her balcony. Chat didn’t particularly want to go, but the orange sky told him he should be on his way. Time sure does fly when you’re having fun, he thought, calculating that they must have spent at least a couple of hours playing around. Marinette tugged at his free arm before he left.

“Thank you, Kitty. For everything.” She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Chat refrained himself from bringing his fingers to the spot.

“Anytime, Purr-incess.” He smiled, a warm feeling spreading inside of him. “You can always count on me, Mrs. Noir.”

She smiled fondly at him and waved as he leapt off the roof. She clung to the inner fuzziness Chat jokingly calling her his wife had created. She didn’t know how long it would last, but she enjoyed feeling herself again. She skipped back down to her room, humming. She picked up Kitten Noir and stroked him absentmindedly, waiting to hear her parents to go downstairs. One thought filled her head as she waited. She couldn’t wait to see her Chaton again.

#marichatmay2020 #marichatmay #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #blep #toe beans #cat shenanigans #elle writes

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askthecarouselianmonarch · 3 years

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🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️ one for every character :)

((Ohhh boyyyyyyyyyyyy~ Time to write~!

((Snow~ Snow is a character based off of one of my old classmates~! She had a personality pretty much the same as Poland from Hetalia. Loves the colour pink way too much, and confusing affff~~ She doesn't seem to represent that sort of personality in this reality though, instead she's very reserved and mostly trying to learn more about the Carouselian Monarchs~ She does happen to piss Shaymin off trying to do so. And well.. They argue.. My classmate and I used to argue and have a heck ton of debates on personalities and shiz- That's one of the reasons I Snow her role in this story~! Also Snow is a Snow-White Cougar Anthro~

((Koi~ Koi is also based on an Irl friend of mine~! She was one of my closest comrades~ This muse went through a wild ride in character designing alongside Shaymin and Crimson. Koi is an anthro breed of a White Serval and a Black and White Tabby Cat~! Her serval side mostly shows in her big ears, hyperness, and agility~ Well, she has agility, but she's pretty lazy- >.< Her role in the Carouselian Kingdom other than telling children wild stories, is basically calming Shaymin down when she goes on raging fits- Also, if even a hair hurts this child named Koi, Shaymin will probably go head over heels to stab it- Koi: :sniffles: Shaymin: Koi what's wrong? Koi: Oh nothing, It's just these onions- Shaymin: What the hell did you say to my friend you- Psyche: Shaymin, you're a Monarch for Carousel's sake, please-

((Venera~ I made Venera some long time agao, I think as a sort of happy comfort character for simply just joy. All Carouselians are all happy and sweet. But just Venera to me is like, "Venera is such a precious chubby bear that I wanna hug- She's just. Sweet~ I love her~"

((Alex~ Alex is also, based on my close Irl friend~! I haven't exactly polished her character's appearance/design, so it may or may not be going through some major changes. Alex's anthro breed is also going through some changes, but her base breed is a Grey Tiger~ This muse's role in the Kingdom is actually sort of based on reality, where my friend said she'd possibly be in the occupation of finance and stock market business.

((Psyche~ Based on another one of my comrades from the real world, she uh- She's actually a pretty wild mom- Tired af 24/7 but she's wild- Our chats are uhhhh- Hmm- Bizarre~? For someone younger than me- She knows way too much- In the Kingdom, she works in her Pottery Workshop 24/7 making whatever is ordered. She's sort of behind schedule- Sooo she works non-stop day and night trying to catch up but welp- She somehow just can't- And somehow we just can't force this tired soul to sleep-

((Nicholai~ I was so damn confused on how I was going to design this man- So confused- My brain said he must be hot or just simply adorable. And my hands just can't do "hot", so the boy simply just turned into a cute, curious, fluffy, Carouselian bear that mentors kids and makes weapons simply for the fun of it. This man is Peach's so screw off m8. Ngl though I'd probably steal him backk Loll~ Nicholai is the son of The General Advisor, Damien and an unknown Carouselian mother. Nicholai is tall, but somehow couldn't beat The Monarch's dangerously tall 6'4" height-

((V~ V is also- Based off my Irl friend, who pretty much has the same personality as Hanje Zoe from Attack on Titan(And she likes the character too)- She has this insane obsession with critters and if she could, she would most definitely get her snake to class. She literally has to pet fishes named Sawney and Bean, Irl. Also V never learns from books, she doesn't give to craps to read. It's "Watch and Learn" for her because no one ever says to "Read and Learn". V has probably poisoned herself at least more than 5 times because of this phrase she uses oh so often, “Move over, I’m an expert.”- V's breed is a mix of a Gray Caracal and a Common Lynx~

(Crimson~ Crimson, another one, based off my Irl friend sorta. Andddd she used to argue with Shaymin, way too much that they got into a physical fight. It's okay though, it was just a fight of skill and they were on training grounds anyway- Crimson lost- If any of youse were wondering- She's a short old man- Crimson is a mix-breed of a Black Panther and a Gray Eurasian Tiger~

((Arven~ I think I said a fact about Arven before, so here's a new one~ Arven makes his own flutes from the barks of old trees. At sometimes when he feels he's having difficulty, the precious Faun stops by the Blacksmith for help~ Also, like any other Faun, he has two horns. They're just hidden away in his floofy hair~ If you ask him about it, he'll probably say that he grew his hair to hide it because he didn't want to look intimidating to the Carouselian children~

((And lastlyyy Shaymin~ Shaymin does have her own Carousel to summon at times when needed, but as Monarch she is able to bring up many Carousels at a time. It's mostly used as a "Defensive Reflex", but no one knows since she does it a ton of times in her raging fits-

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ifeveristoday · 4 years

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[video description: just me yelling for seven minutes straight]

Ok. Am I ready for this?

Every issue of the Boom! Verse has been building up layers of characterizations and the aftermaths of choices. Issue 9 shows us the fallout of two major events - the showdown at Sunnydale Museum, and Xander’s half Vampire state (and what Willow had to do to get him there).

It also touches on the fact that Buffy is in the Hellmouth with no way to contact the surface world.

Yet that isn’t the most pressing matter in this issue.

Relationships are frayed.

Everyone in the Scooby Gang is isolated.

Jenny has a cat.

Sorry, that’s not thematically relevant but I, as a cat person, am legally bound to discuss when there is a cat in media.

JENNY HAS A GREY TABBY WHAT IS THEIR NAME

Spoilers and reactions to issue nine under the cut - we scream and flail like men, who needs a review?

PTSD CLUB PTSD CLUB PTSD CLUB

edited to correct that bit about Willow’s hair and level of evil it indicates

Something that Jordie used early on is the narrator POV (unreliable perhaps) and it returns to this issue. But instead of Xander or Willow, it’s Joyce. And she’s grieving about the world she’s lost but what every parent knows in the back of their mind: the world is tough and scary and so many bad things can happen. And Joyce has survived the attack but there’s no Buffy to commiserate with, to fuss over in person. (Also, what a nod to Joyce’s obliviousness in TV canon - to believe that Buffy would just go on a mandatory field trip with no phone connection.) Luckily, she has Eric, who is supportive and says all the right things.

Joyce’s disconnect with what she feels and the outside world’s determination to ‘life goes on’ is repeated in the rest of the issue, as our favorite Sunnydale residents deal with both small and large terrors.

Revelations besides Jenny’s cat:

Cordelia works in a clothing shop and there are some Portland looking dudes roaming around Sunnydale. Or maybe it’s Silver Lake. She still has a crush on Spike, because who hasn’t met a mysterious, well-muscled stranger emerging from the forest like a person-shaped Cheshire cat and thought, “Gotta get me some of that?”

I mean, a whole fairytale industry has grown up around that idea.

But despite all normal appearances (and Cordelia is the still most ‘normal’ character) and her Cordy Crew updates, life is not going to her plans. There are fissures erupting in the sidewalk, cracks appearing in walls, people are stressed and Cordelia can’t even play with her dog without falling over said fissures. Oh, and her books are dissolving into ash when she opens her locker.

So shit is horrible.

Willow’s dyed a black streak in her hair (honey, red hair is the hardest color to re-dye to. Your hair is so beautiful and now you’ve got to tone and strip the fuck out of that streak if you want a base to dye it red again - oh wait, magic, I guess) and is being rude and abrupt and just plain Not Willow with Rose and everyone.

Except Willow chafes at the idea of there being a standard for her - why should she be just the smart capable responsible one? While a vampire doppelganger doesn’t burst out of the wall and drawls that she’s bored now, Willow is resentful that Rose and everyone else expects her to be one way when hello, the world is on fire outside.

Rose has found out about the weird shit that goes on in Sunnydale and accuses Willow of keeping things from her, including giant bats and the fact that Buffy was there, and she, Willow’s girlfriend and considerably known her longer than Buffy (imp.) wasn’t there or told about it.

Willow naturally thinks that Rose being jealous of Buffy is just stupid, because Buffy isn’t even there and honestly she’s not even thinking about it. Which causes Rose to worry why is her empathetic Willow like this?

Which makes Willow lash out that she’s tired of having to be the one who has to consider everyone else’s feelings but her own? Why can’t she have the space to figure out what she wants?

And like that, Rose and Willow are on a break.

Xander, in direct contrast to everyone else around him, is calm and sensitive and just generally being a good bean. He’s concerned about Willow and Buffy, but he’s not crowding Willow. He’s patrolling in Buffy’s absence and making stakes and friends with raccoons - and all of his warm-heartedness and acceptance of ‘everyone’s journey is different’ upsets Giles, who is stubbly and running on presumably zero sleep as he worries about Buffy, and the break in his relationship.

Xander’s facade of handling all the weird crap Sunnydale’s thrown at him gets blown when he encounters a vampire delivery boy in the cemetery. He wins the fight, but the vampire’s words taunting him that they’re just monsters, and not in-between--unfinished like Xander is, resonates with him. Xander’s been doing so well, learning how to live and cope with his depression, being a good friend and responsible evil thwarter - and then to have Giles dismiss him so coldly? And to have one of his worst fears spoken out loud - he’s not human anymore. Not in the way that it used to count. And he’s only half a vampire - and there’s no one else straddling that line so he’s still alone.

Everyone needs a hug.

Especially Giles and Jenny, because shit, things get incredibly real in the next act. Giles heads over to Jenny’s house to make some kind of amends, but Jenny is understandably Not Having It. Giles disregards all of her reasonable requests, pushes past her and enters her home and then tries to make her understand how really, she’s wrong and he’s right and MAYBE IF SHE HADN’T GIVEN THE DAGGER TO DRUSILLA, THE WORLD WOULDN’T BE ON FIRE.

This is a mess. In so many ways Giles is wrong - he ignored her request to stay away, he invited himself in - and then spent too long trying to make excuses for why it was OK for him to do all of that shit. And he looks a hot mess while doing so - I don’t even think it’s the artwork style, it’s just that Giles is wild-eyed, wrecked, and actually slavering at the mouth as he tries to explain his point of view. He’s feverish and Jenny puts aside her anger for a minute to get him a glass of water. Like, yes, she’s furious with him, but she still loves him, even though this scary man practically foaming at the mouth doesn’t really look like her partner.

Jenny presses him on his attempt to protect them all, asking pointedly, what about her?

Giles automatically assumes she’s talking about Buffy and assures her that he knows Buffy’s capable of fending for herself, which is exactly the Wrong Thing to Say, because as previous issues have shown, Jenny is not cool with children having to save the world, and also, Buffy’s mom? How about her, Fuckhead Watcher Man.

And Giles goes and puts his whole head up his ass as he says that there are sacrifices that come with successes, as in any war - and Jenny loses it. Because Giles rants do you think that it’s easy for him to live to believe that everything in his life is disposable except for Buffy? That nothing else matters?

And Jenny reads the underlining footnote - if nothing matters, where does that leave her in his life?

FOR FUCK’S SAKE GILES YOU’RE DERANGED GO HOME

And Jenny’s cat agrees with me and hisses at him to leave Jenny alone.

Giles exits the house wondering aloud has everyone gone mad, while a suspicious rabbit looks on from the grass.

There’s a Tucker Wells/Andrew shades of who the fuck cares interlude about a lonely kid who stalks his school facebook to read the comments about classmates and I might be callous, but I actually do not care about those type of characters because guess what, lots of lonely kids and people out there and their first thought is not to kill everyone else. Anyway, I suspect this is a side effect of the Hellmouth magnifying negative thoughts.

It lingers on Buffy’s face and the comments - “She’s weird but hot.”

Now imagine that being her epitaph.

This pans over to the last sequence - Robin is chilling at home, and his dad (!!!) tells him to go to bed, he doesn’t care how much this town is falling apart. Robin’s dad believes in education.

And guess who shows up at his door in the late of night?

KENDRA.

And she hits him with a Star Wars reference. “Aren’t you a little short for a watcher?”

#i fucking live #boom! studios #spoilers and reactions #buffy comics

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tea-toast · 5 years

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The Market

A short piece, inspired by this post by @anarchy-kisses.

The air is humming, the buzzing of voices overlapping each other is getting stronger and stronger. The market is crowded, customers shoving themselves between one stall and another to complete their weekly purchases. Sound of footsteps on the stone floor, a persistent ticking. Now a boot, now a small heel, now a child’s glossy leather slipper.

He is used to it by now. In fact he does’t budge from his book stand. No one will disturb him at the moment. His patrons prefer the evening cool to sneak out of their doors and venture among the yellowed pages of his worn-out books, when only one last slice of sun is visible at the horizon. For now he can blissfully doze, laid down and sheltered from the midday heat. Today he has decided to perch between the German literature section and old heavy theology tomes. His slender black and white body is balanced between a wooden display and the other, his tail lying among gnawed covers.

White paws hidden under his furry head, whiskers slightly vibrating with his every breath.

Bliss for now.

From the nearby stand, the florist observes people strolling. He looks a little grim, wary yellow eyes under the big straw hat he is wearing. Surrounded by vases and jars full of flowers on display.

Croci, tulips, plump buttercups and peonies and tiny touch-me-not, he is fiercely proud of them, stands upright on the stand, welcoming costumers. Big, fluffy brown and white fur, smoothly brushed. He is very tidy, a shiny metal watering can by his side, in case some flowers need a drink.

For a few weeks he will still be assisted by his sister, but as soon as the red and crisp fall arrives she will sell pumpkins, her speciality. They are a bit like her, round and if you carve an expression in their pulp it will certainly look like the puckish expression she’s always sporting. Chubby cheeks, a little bell spins around her sturdy white neck with a green ribbon, the same colour that decorates her hat. She is checking one of her pumpkins right now, pawing at the smooth, slightly ribbed skin.

It seems to be growing properly.

There is a third sibling and there are the greenest of greens and beans in pretty wicker baskets, he worked hard to put them right on the stand counter. Despite having done a great job, his big blue eyes are looking at the stand in front of his, the fur on his back all ruffled and his pointed ears pulled back, whiskers buzzing with jealousy. And how to blame him, the mushrooms put in plain sight are magnificent and deliciously scrummy.

A couple of regulars are cruising through the daily selection to decide what to buy for soup. Bulbous penny buns or yellow chanterelles, purplish wood blewits or urchins of the woods with their pleasant odor and bitter taste?

An orange tabby tests a couple with a paw, while the mushroom picker is distracted licking her semi long, seal point coloured coat with her sandpaper tongue to make it plush and silky. She may be used to picking mushrooms, but she certainly does not like to be muddy.

If you continue a little further, here you get acquainted with the old market grumbler. Affectionately called Garlic Gramps, don’t be scared, he has been doing this job for years and is just passionate about garlic.

Squat and grey-furred, he paces up and down his impressive garlic head fortress, his tail at attention like a good guard. He camouflages himself among the tufts and even stinks like the garlic he sells!

Next to him is the melon stand. The owner is a fearful ginger, with big eyes and a curved posture, her paws hunched against herself in an anxious manner. The melons are bigger than her, placed in large white plastic baskets.

The green veins of the fruits remind a little of the orange nuances of her fur. She doesn’t expose herself that much with her clients, she ventures to meow in invitation, a soft-spoken ”Can I interest you in … melons?“ but she doesn’t sounds sure about it and being close to Garlic Gramps’ stand doesn’t help, the smell is definitely pungent.

At the market, if you’re lucky, you could even run into the witch’s familiar, selling the most disparate and enchanted, if not cursed stuff for a few coins to buy ingredients from the toad next door with. Usually in the shade of an ivy-covered crossroads or in a winding side street, its pale eyes invite you to come closer.

Today the sinuous soot-coloured cat offers vials, crystals from his fluffy dear friend the Crystal Seller’s shimmering stand, dust bags, charmed necklaces and a silver parrying dagger. The familiar is no stranger to stealing, so it is better to pay attention to your pockets before leaving, you never know that a paw managed to get in the way.

However, if you do buy something, you will be rewarded with a slow blink, a blessing, and you could walk back peacefully on the main town road, continue to stroll among the stalls full of every good thing, take a sneak peek at this and that, before deciding that is enough and heading for home, leaving the pulsating rumble of the market behind.

Until next week.

#original writing #short fic #cats #original fic #fantasy writing #my writing #caturday #fantasy #ok to reblog

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ace-beef · 5 years

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Jedi Cats AU

Y’all ready for this shit? An AU where Obi Wan Kenobi has to look after some cats while he’s doing Jedi Stuff. These four cats are: Anakin, Qui Gon, Padme, and Ahsoka.

It’s kinda like a modern au at the same time, purely because I’m thinking of the dumb shit that cats do in this day and age… but like,, the Jedi order still out there doin’ Jedi things…

For now it’s just the Jedi but I may also make a post containing information about Palpatine’s cats. If I do any more posts for this au I’ll just use the tag ‘jedi cats au’

Anyway, the details are under the cut, enjoy!

Obi Wan Kenobi - himb human - he’s very tired from looking after these troublesome cats while being a Jedi - “I’m sorry Master Windu I must rush home and attend to some important business” *rushes home and finds Anakin staring out the window into the back garden meowing angrily at Dooku* “*sigh* Anakin...” - if the mission isn’t going to be that dangerous but requires him to be gone for a while, then he’ll bring the cats with him - “Master Kenobi, do you really have to bring all them with you?” *with Anakin clawing his way up Obi Wan’s leg and Qui Gon prowling across his shoulders* “yes, Master Windu” - constantly has to stop his cats from fighting with his neighbour’s cats (especially after Qui Gon got a nasty clawing from Maul one time): Dooku, Grievous and Maul, even though Obi Wan isn’t particularly fond of those cats himself - said neighbour is a seemingly friendly old man called Palpatine, who all of Obi Wan’s cats seem to like, especially Anakin - he’s so tired,, blease let himb rest - will often fall asleep on the sofa by accident, and then will wake up to find Qui Gon in his lap and Anakin on his face, while Padme and Ahsoka are on the sofa and pressed up against his legs - “Anakin nO” - often looks to both Qui Gon and Padme to help with the other two - have I told you how tired this man is?

Anakin Skywalker - he a black cat, v slim and slender, has a slight bit of extra fur around his face, yellow eyes - you may only pet him when he wants to be petted, if you try and pet him when he does not wish to be touched you sHaLL fAcE tHe CLaWs oF dEaTH fOuL hUMaN - touch the tumby and YOU WILL DIE - try and touch the toe beans and YOU WILL DIE - very rarely purrs, except for when in the presence of Obi Wan, the only human who can pet him almost 24/7 - will always obey Qui Gon, will listen to Obi Wan most of the time, proteccs Padme and Ahsoka constantly - quite playful, give him a droid toy and/or a lightsaber toy and he enters the Silly Zone - is the kind of cat that will stare at you straight in the eyes as he quickly pushes something breakable off the table - is very territorial and hates it when there are any other cats in the back garden, especially the neighbour’s cats - although he actually likes the neighbour human Palpatine quite a lot, although Palpatine is not privileged enough for extra Anakin pets like Obi Wan is - a very loud cat, meows constantly and loudly, as well as hissing at those he doesn’t like and doing that fuckin ‘mmmmrrrrrrrooowwwwwowooww’ aggression noise - is also a very active cat, is constantly running around the house and often goes for walks in the neighbourhood, mostly to get into scraps with other cats (this is how he got a scar over his right eye) - “Mrow!” “Anakin no it’s not time for food yet” “mrrrOW!” *sigh* “Anakin what did I say about arguing back?” “mrrOOWW!” “Anakin!” - when he’s not running around being a nuisance, he’s cuddling up with Padme - often takes Ahsoka out with him on his adventures - when Obi Wan takes them on missions with him, Anakin is somehow more mischievous and disobedient than he normally is - will absolutely bring Obi Wan ‘presents’, all the time - a sharp and pointy boi who is also a fuckin dumbass

Qui Gon Jinn - one of those cats with the super long fur, mega soft fur, soft green eyes, clearly used to be a brown tabby cat but has turned more grey with his age, a slender cat but himb big because he tol - old and wise cat that always has this knowing look in his eyes - do not be fooled by his calm appearance, he will fuck u up if he wants to - you may touch the tumby, but only if you are Obi Wan, otherwise you will die - try and touch the toe beans and you will die, unless you are Obi Wan, then you’re allowed to - will break shit and mess shit up when nobody's looking, then act like he didn’t do anything when they discover the mess… this mess is often blamed on Ahsoka or Anakin - having said that, he is also the kind of cat that will slowly push something off of the table while remaining eye contact the whole time; he doesn’t do this with Obi Wan though, Obi Wan must not see his crimes - when is brought on missions with Obi Wan, will also be more mischievous than normal, but Obi Wan never knows this - “Master Kenobi! One of your cats broke something again!” “Oh no, really? I bet it was Anakin, hey Anakin!” “Is Anakin this grey-brown fluffy one?” “No? That’s Qui Gon, he would never break anything” “well he just did” “what?” - all of the other cats respect him greatly, even Palpatine’s cats - he must protecc his human at all costs, as well as the other cats, Obi Wan can’t help but feel slightly flattered at the fact that one of his cats is so willing to protect him - he may be a cat but Himb Still Dad - a calm and relaxed cat, likes to lounge in the sun, and will make that little ‘mrrrp?’ noise whenever he is awoken - not really that playful, will just sit and watch the human do silly shit in an attempt to try and play with him - most of the time he is relatively quiet, gently purrs when he is petted - himb soft and smart

Padme Amidala - a pretty, white cat with piercing blue eyes, she very elegant - will allow most people to pet her, unless she knows that they’re Not Nice and will therefore take a swipe at them (this is the same for the tummby and the toe beans) - Obi Wan and Anakin want her to stay inside as like,, an indoor cat, but she wiLL nOt bE cOnFiNEd - most of the time the noises she makes are relatively soft and quiet, unless she’s fuckin angry then she’s loud and constantly making noise - you can tell when her and Anakin are having a spat because there’s a constant stream of very loud angry cat noises that drown out some slightly fearful loud cat noises - overall is a very well behaved cat, respects Obi Wan and doesn’t break anything - when encountering Palpatine’s cats, she doesn’t make any noise, she just glares at them (which is somehow more scary and intimidating than Anakin’s constant stream of aggressive noises) - she probably won’t, but everyone knows that she has the power to kill them at any moment - is the best behaved out of all of the cats - her fur is somehow constantly clean and perfectly groomed, Obi Wan doesn’t groom her more often than the other cats and whenever her and Anakin go out together, Anakin always comes back dirty with his fur in a mess but Padme will still be pristine - if Obi Wan takes her on a mission with him (which he doesn’t really want to do but sometimes he has no other choice) she is on her best behaviour, she’ll snoop around if she has the chance to but she won’t actually cause any trouble, unlike Anakin and Qui Gon - only plays when she’s in the mood, doesn’t go quite as crazy as Anakin does, but she can get quite into playtime - she soft and elegant but has the potential to be sharp and pointy

Ahsoka Tano - the smallest of the cats, a bright ginger tabby cat with a white tummy and white paws, bright green eyes - she’s also the youngest of the cats, still has a vague kitten look about her - highly energetic and literally will not stop moving, constantly goes outside, often with Anakin - will let most people pet her, but only if she’s in the mood to be petted - do not underestimate this tiny kit, she may be inexperienced but she can and will fuck you up… although on occasion she does have to be rescued by Anakin or Qui Gon - Ahsoka: gets into a fight with Palpatine’s cats and takes on more than she can handle Qui Gon: feels his dad cat sense tingling and goes to rescue her, must protecc the smol at all costs - is the same as Anakin when it comes to territory, and will do the same shit as him if she sees any unwelcome cats in the back garden, except she’ll also claw at the window - very impatient with everything *insert let me in meme here* - she breaks shit, but most of the time it is actually accidental, she very rarely causes destruction on purpose - if taken on one of Obi Wan’s missions she’ll try her best to be behaved but she just can’t help but get into trouble - has a lot of respect for Obi Wan and the other cats, but much like Anakin she can’t help but not follow the rules sometimes - fuckin’ LOVES to be played with, she’s down for that shit anytime and will often enter the Silly Zone - has a loud and high pitched meow, will make noises frequently, so much so that Obi Wan sometimes just has to put his face in his hands and focus on drowning her constant meowing out - she must ZOOM at 3am most nights and will not stop until she has no more energy left - a very sharp and pointy smol that is not to be underestimated

#I spent a lot of time on this #and it's probably only going to get like 2 notes #like all of my bullshit long posts do #I hope y'all enjoy it though #star wars #sw #star wars prequels #sw prequels #clone wars #sw clone wars #star wars clone wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #beef speaks #beef writes #jedi cats au

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monthlyshonenheartmagazine · 2 years

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An ode to Asian grocery stores: A commentary by Rakesh Bhula (April 17)

I would like to preface this commentary by mentioning that when I use the term ‘Asian grocery store’, I am referring to convenience stores owned by people of Asian descent or, stores that specifically stock Asian goods and foodstuffs; which may or may not be owned by people of Asian descent. Sometimes, I may be referring to both types of stores at the same time. Feel free to interpret this as best as you see fit. There is no wrong answer here.

I have always held a strong affinity for Asian grocery stores from a young age, that is because I grew up in two of them. They carry a powerful childhood nostalgia for me. These stores were, firstly, a place to learn a strong work ethic by watching my parents grind out a living working long hard hours behind the counter, and, secondly, by doing chores like stocking the shelves and pricing the goods with a price gun; which seemed more fun than it really was for a young child. My brother and I used to fight over whose turn it was to use the price gun; quite a similar story to Tom Sawyer and his fence painting escapades.

The first grocery store I grew up in had the living quarters attached directly to the back of the shop. All that delineated the shop from the home behind it was a sturdy wooden security door. It did make for a very short commute to and from work for my parents, and it also a blurred work and home life. This is likely something that many people may now be able to better relate to in recent years, with the COVID-19 related ‘working from home trend.’

Some of my earliest memories were of playing as a kid in the backyard of the first shop in Wellington, New Zealand, stomping the numerous cardboard stock delivery boxes flat so they were easier to be collected by the trash man, as recycling was not really a thing 30 years ago. I watched my brother learn how to ride a bicycle without training wheels by leaning the handlebar against the garage wall and pedalling it along. We also caught a couple of stray cats that had taken up residence in the crawl space underfloor of the shop. They were trapped using the trusty laundry basket and propped up with a stick, which was promptly yanked away with string from a distance trope (it actually does work!). I don't exactly remember the food bait we used at the time, but it may have been KFC leftovers. There were two cats, a black one and a grey tabby. Unfortunately, even after much pleading with our parents, we were not allowed to keep the cats and they were eventually handed over to the SPCA.

Fond childhood memories aside, these stores put food on our family table and over time, became a way for my parents (along with other migrant families whom I knew were also in the same boat) to meet, interact, polish their English skills and eventually become friends with the local citizens in the area.

A few of my favourite products found in these stores.

I had an ex-partner introduce me to the world of three and one instant white coffee premixes. These actually originated from her hometown in Ipoh, Malaysia. It was a place I was able to visit and see where the factory was for myself. Now, whenever I drink that brand of white coffee, it triggers memories of past happier times and of my trip to Ipoh. I was bemused to learn that the drinks were called white coffees, not for the creamer added to the powder mix; but for the fact the coffee beans were roasted with margarine giving the beans a ‘whiter’ appearance.

I stopped drinking alcohol over a decade ago for wellbeing reasons. As such, I am always on the lookout for liquid replacements at social events. Lately I have become rather fond of ‘fever tree’ ginger beer. I really like the sharp ginger kick in the mouth and the fact it is not overly sweet. This drink is often found in Bottle-Os, but there are other beverages that I have come to fancy that are almost exclusively found in Asian grocery stores. For any cola drink fans, I can strongly recommend ‘Thums Up’- it is the Indian version of Coca-Cola. Disregarding the fact that Coca-Cola now own the brand, it tastes very different to coke as well as to Pepsi. It is not too sugary sweet but it also has a very subtle and significant spicy tinge to it, which I think makes it rather refreshing, especially on a hot humid day. This might partly explain why this drink is so popular in the subcontinent too. I drink tea every day, and my beverage of choice here is ‘Wagh Bakri’ masala chai tea. I buy the teabags as honestly, I do not have the time nor the patience to make loose leaf chai. I also lack the skills to long pour the tea at arm's length so that it becomes nice and creamy. The teabags are a great substitute. There is an extensive array of unusual soft drinks to be found in these stores too- ones that I have tried and did not mind- lychee, roasted coconut, soursop (had to google what these were), rambutan, sugarcane, grass jelly and tamarind. I have barely scratched the surface here. At the closest Asian store to me, this is honestly not even 10% of the range of a single brand of soft drink they stock. Such incredible diversity!

I do also like the extensive range of different types of instant ramen noodles typically found in these stores. Such a diverse selection, with so many interesting flavour options to choose from. It is a literal lucky dip! Often, I’m unable to read the label as it is in a non-English language, so I have to choose solely by the illustrations on the packet as to what the flavouring is inside ( I think looking at the ingredients list spoils the fun, unless you have any specific allergies/dietary requirements). The quality of some of these ramen is also impressive , with so many separate flavouring sachets to add to the noodles and enhance the taste. I remember one of these instant ramens came with whole dried baby abalone! So fancy. For the masochists among us, there are also those extremely spicy ‘volcanic’ Korean fire ramen to test your spice tolerances against. I have seen these ramens gain notoriety online, on various social media as “challenge/reaction” video clips.

I prefer to use Indian ayurvedic soaps for my bathing needs, as I am prone to greasy and oily skin. These soaps tend to cut the grease well, leaving me with a nice cleansed feeling. They have a refreshing herbal scent and do not dry out my skin excessively. Typically, they are made with such exotic ingredients as turmeric powder and neem oil.

It should not come as any surprise that these Asian stores stock Asian toothpaste. Not joking here, but I actually collect toothpaste. These toothpastes also have exotic ingredients in them ranging from clove, cinnamon, neem, myrrh, sage, eucalyptus, chamomile, lemon, honeysuckle and honey. They come with a different kind of taste, but I do not find it unpleasant at all. A nice change from the usual minty fresh flavours most people are accustomed to.

Not being able to see my family for the last two years, due to COVID-19 travel restrictions, has been extremely difficult. Not only have I missed the people themselves and important milestones, I have also missed the taste of my Mum's home cooking a lot. This is where the ready-made curry mixes, both the powders and the pastes, come in super handy. It is a very convenient, quick and easy way for me to make a spicy meal, that also gives me a ‘Taste of Home.�� Obviously, it is not a match on any dishes made with my mother’s love and care, but a reasonable alternative in these troubled times when overseas travel is not currently practicable.

There are a diverse and varied range of snacks and side dishes as well. Dried seaweeds, unusually flavoured biscuits and sweets. Mochi (sticky rice cakes filled with plum and soybean paste), frozen durian desserts, kimchi (Korean fermented cabbage pickle) and natto (Japanese fermented soybeans). These are all things I have grown to like only because I decided to try them out on a whim. Variety is the spice of life as they say.

In addition, an Asian store I shop at just across the NSW-Qld border has an extensive selection of hot sauces. I did not think it was humanly possible to have so many variations on a theme and they all really do taste slightly different. This store proved to be a lifesaver when the initial COVID-19 shopping panic hit the regular supermarkets and staples such as rice and toilet paper ran out. I was able to buy rice from this store and source scented TP, made in Fiji no less, from another store in Logan. Having a Fijian-Indian colleague who grew up using this particular brand in Fiji, who was now using it again out of bare necessity in Australia, was ironic to me and no doubt nostalgic for him. It even had a ‘tropical’ scent which likely reminded him in some part of his youth.

I visited Singapore in early 2020, right before the pandemic hit and international travel was shut down globally. During my time there, I saw a museum exhibition about shophouses and their architectural history and evolution and how they form an integral part of Singapore’s national identity. Many of the shophouses are now heritage protected buildings of historical importance. I found it incredibly fascinating, so much so, that I bought a couple of DIY craft books in the gallery shop; they were 3D cardboard cut-out models of shophouses that you assemble yourself. Writing this piece reminded me that I’m still yet to put them together.

I like to patronise these Asian stores as, more often than not, they are a family run business and I see it as a kind of duty to pay it forward, so to speak. Other people patronised my parents store and this helped put me through school, so I like to think I'm helping someone to do the same in turn for their kids. The people I have met in these stores over the years come from countries all over the world: Singapore, China, India, Japan, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Philippines and Vietnam just to name a few. I feel that they have enriched our lives and society in general so much, just by being here in Australia. This point is not lost on me now that I am currently writing this paragraph on National Harmony Day (21st March 2022).

Upon reflection, I was somewhat surprised to realise the extent as to how much these recollections of the humble Asian grocery store have influenced my early works as an aspiring poet, which I will further outline below.

The following poem was written in early 2020, when Australia and the world were first discovering the seriousness of COVID-19 and supermarket panic buying became widespread, especially for toilet paper. Hence, how it ties back to my Fijian-Indian friend and that orchid scented toilet paper.

T.P.

A hallway closet stokes my piles the secret source, is equal parts pride and shame 56 rolls, ready to roll. The girthy dimensions stack up well to the test at hand. Bleached pure white hypoallergenic strong and soft lightly scented. Desirable qualities to be found in any prospective lifetime partner. In a World gone mad, all is topsy turvy amongst the hurly-burly. Clean-up in aisle three sweep away your broken desires and cat scratched yearnings. Try again tomorrow at 7am. Two ply dreams descend into one ply nightmares. Ill world constipated of kindness and caring. Diarrhoeal discharges of hate and selfishness abound, as greed leaches freely. Those assholes worried about their arseholes fight for you screech and wail for you. What goes in must come out maligned and malformed. Bristol was right, you are one type disparate, nuts and harder to pass. Keeping up with the Joneses has you unravelled to your core. A consumerist idiom keeps our global economy kicking~ Bought another pack this morning bhai, buying more than using.

As for the poem below, I got the inspiration from a trip to Singapore in 2020. Walking around the Little India district, I saw a lot of the Asian grocery stores had tuned their radios, which were placed near the checkout counters, to Indian stations and that they were loudly playing Indian songs.

The Voicesmith

Oral to aural He rides his flaming chariot across the airwaves. Harnessing cadence, tonality, enunciation. A richly refined sound Finely grained deeply polished like hundred-year-old smoky cedar. A Master Craftsman honing honeyed words pervasively persuasive. Doppler affecting us all deeply within. Creatively breathing vitality into etchings. Resurrected words leap from paper to life. Pixies dancing through the air pirouetting along soundscapes tickling our ears. Fizzing softly drinking speech bubbles. The human gramophone. His name? Shall remain unwritten, but not unknown.

I will not name this place outright, but for those of you reading this who may be aware, there is an Indian supermarket in Woolloongabba. It also has an upstairs street food vegetarian restaurant. As a currently single man of Indian extraction, I have found this place to be a most excellent date venue. It serves cheap and cheerful tasty Indian vegetarian street food, with an extensive range of dishes to try. The informality of the place coupled with the fact that it’s always buzzing with people and that it’s often easier to eat the food with your hands seems to help put my dates at ease. A very low stress, low pressure environment. It also allows me to introduce a part of my culture to the other person, which is a great topic for ice breakers and conversation. It is an all-weather venue that is open late every night, with plenty of free off-street parking. Another big tick for this place is that you can wait for your date downstairs in the store if they are running late. There’s plenty to occupy your time with down there, peruse the shelves checking out all manner of weird and wonderful Asian products. I have the feeling that by now, a few of the supermarket and restaurant workers are beginning to recognise me and what I’m up to. Why do I suspect this? The warm friendly all-knowing smiles they flash me when I’m there with yet another date leads me to make this assumption.

The following poem is somewhat loosely based in part, on five very different dating experiences I have had at this place.

Lustrum

The longest night has passed it can only get better from here- as if daylight holds such extenuating power over us. We steal light from our Northern brethren a favour to be returned in a year's time

a spinning top in constant flux. Such is life on the Antipodes.

Solstice

Waiting for the right defibrillator fingers to strum dulcet tones and revive this cold old steel heart. Hear us then make beautiful resonant music together.

Dobro

III Together we shall stand, inviolate. In the calm before the storm of our lives approaches. Savour this moment, for it is fleeting and will not pass us by ever again.

Tempest

IV I have no regrets dying here next to you. Our undersized hearts, gutted nourished Aphrodite herself. We swam through life side by side upstream through turbulent tides. I do not regret a moment of it. My love.

Pisces

V 'Tis only a strong memory I carry etched deep within me softly tinged with nostalgia and peppered with melancholy.

Four bhais ayes only

These final two poems were initially inspired by a shaving accident that resulted in two nasty gashes on my head. This was the result of trying a different brand of shaving gel and razor blade to what I am normally accustomed to using. I picked up these items at a local Asian grocery store. There was no fault in either the razor or shave gel, just a moment of carelessness on my part that cost me a chunk of my scalp; experimentation gone awfully awry. The scars still remain, but have healed enough to no longer make daily head shaving such an onerous and painful task.

Trials and tribulations I wear this crown of scars not with pride, or shame shame shame. Rather, emburdened with the weight of significance it carries. It speaks of words unspoken, a life lived on the edge. Scalped by a razor-thin red bloodline of insanity, crudely routed into the finest blue scum line of a bigger brother. Watching us, treading awfully, carefully. It made Drowning Deadweights of us all; Time to swim or sink? The biggest boldest line however reserved for the Qld-NSW border. Flaying lives and shaving incomes into two. Now, Turn To The Two Twin Towns, Siamese siblings separated at birth. First cleaved in 1859. A beating heart, bald-faced lies prostrate, and long since bypassed. A cruel mind blown, straight to the dome.

Cutting loose

Only two swipes left, have I petered out? I'm bleeding my love. Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love. You cut me open oh yeah. Me, acquiesce? No way King hit, buy the most majestic of royally close shaves. Only acquired by a jaundiced eye. Won on yellow stickered special. German engineered technology ingrained reputations that serve to dig deeply. Blunt words kindly severed dazed and confused. A stainless steel plows and hoes. To slice and dice, fallow and gouge, scarring the dome inside and out. A scary proposition. Markers of these Pyrrhic wars I fought, haughtily against myself. Fraught with a thin skinned ephemeral epidermis. So slather moisturiser, only the best lathers, hopes and yearnings. Increasing greys number in severity to mark the days of life's essences stonily skipping away. Aesthetics lie, and owls do cry #ruined. Along with the discarded detritus of wheatish-brown origins on a damp bathroom floor. A muscle's memories, weakness loss of motility surely, it does unjustly, indeed and in deed, cut deep. Trying vainly to staunch the ebb and flow of time.

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