0 comments on "ParaShift 2: 05 (Gregor Tierney/Dylan Park, mm, scifi, a/b/o, mpreg, State Rule) #HarperWCK"

Find the masterlist here => https://www.kimichee.com/masterlist-paradigm-shift-part-2/<=

Dylan felt a bit of pity for the foolish boy but it was overshadowed by his anger. There was a reason he was having no real part of Micah’s case. Others would be assigned to unknot the mess that had been made.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He pitied Micah Figworth, but there was nothing he could do for him. The boy had committed the sin the Inquisition would seek answers for. The case was out of his hands.

There was the insistent 5-note beep of a timer alarm. He tapped his ear, finger unerringly finding the implanted mic button. "Magister Park," he said. "End timer sequence. Order the aircar be brought around."

There was the familiar acknowledgement sequence of notes. He could feel the sound vibrating along his jawbone and up into his skull. It had taken him time to become used to the shivery feel of it. Now the implant’s use had become a familiar kind of strange.

It helped that the personal AI within the implant was tuned enough to know when to use voice function or not–he preferred not.

Dylan shrugged on his coat, gathered up his briefcase, and left the office. There was a lot he needed to get done before he could return to Gregor’s side.

And how hard had it been, to leave not only the warm comfort of the bed but a gently breathing Gregor?

After writing Gregor a note explaining where he was going, Dylan had reluctantly left him behind.

If he could have, he would have stayed in the bed, but his extended time off was over.

The Project was essential to the safety and protection of the planet. There was an invisible timer counting down to the next incursion, the next attack of the Outsiders.

Dylan longed to be back in that bed with Gregor. He would love to enjoy a lazy day. Yet duty had been drilled into him from birth and he knew he had an important job to perform.

The start date of his new posting had been pushed back a few days to allow him time to bond with Gregor, but there was a lot to be done. He was scheduled for half-duty to start, then he was to take over command of The Project.

Even with the events of the night before, there really wasn’t time to rest.

They could very well be facing the end of the human race in two years time. And it was up to Dylan to stop it.

Even if he still wished he were back in bed wrapped around a warm, slumbering Gregor.

There were times when he could do nothing but envy the still ignorant masses. They didn’t know it hadn’t been random nature. They didn’t know the Earth had been attacked three times.

They were able to sleep easy with the hope that tomorrows could be better days. They slumbered unaware of the sword hanging over their heads.

But Dylan knew.

And that’s why he’d reluctantly left a sleeping Gregor alone in bed. Because even though he’d wanted nothing more than to rest beneath those sheets, he had a job to do.

A world to save.

TBC…

Fortress in the Eye of Time at Amazon
0 comments on "I don’t know what’s wrong with my oven :("

I don’t know how it happened, but I forgot today was Thanksgiving. Which means that I started the day with a turkey fresh from the freezer.

It’s totally possible to cook a turkey from frozen: you cook it for time-and-a-half, and you really want to have a pan big enough to deal with the extra melt juice.

I did not have a big enough pan. But I thought I could fake it with tinfoil walls.

It refused to be faked.

Oil drizzled on the oven bottom, which means it filled up with smoke.

No big. I shut the oven off, took the turkey out, wiped the bottom, and turned the oven back on.

It smoked like crazy.

I cleaned again. Still smoked. Like 4 times over an hour.

I don’t see any leftover spilled oil, but it won’t stop smoking 🙁

I’m not even sure my turkey was done cooking. All the temperature shenanigans leave some questions unanswered. I just couldn’t handle dealing with all the smoke and gross and I smell like a fry cook.

I let the turkey rest–so all the juices didn’t immediately escape–cut off a bunch and threw it in a pan. I made gravy in another pan, then poured it on the turkey and heated it through.

The turkey with the gravy was tender and delicious and great with potatoes, so whatever. Dinner saved.

I just have a whole half a turkey left that’s a big ol’ question mark on the cooked meter. Ugh.

Thank goodness for soup, that’s all I know. I can’t even make a turkey pot pie with my oven smoking like it is.

First world problems, yo.

Hope the rest of you had a good time. Even if you don’t celebrate the day as anything other than a food day–or maybe not even that–I wish you well.

Let's Make Dumplings at Amazon
Panoply at Amazon
0 comments on "It’s 100% jealousy, not envy // CW"

Seeing the Jersey Shore people and the Kardashians and all the other celebrities renting islands and resorts and having a wonderful time while the rest of us are staying home?

It is 100% jealousy, not envy.

There is a true sense that they are taking away from other people with their actions.

-It’s the sight of seeing them out and about having a great time while the rest of us are poor and miserable and worried about the future.

-It’s seeing a celebrity later laugh about having had COVID-19. Or resenting even the ones that are honest about their experiences–“It was miserable”–and knowing that they had the money to receive the best possible care. The kind of care that people making less than $400,000 a year will never know.

-It’s witnessing the complete and utter excess that they represent, and knowing they probably voted Tr0mp because the rich all stick together. (Seriously, you think KayKay voted for Biden? Or do you think her and her whole family voted for the “Keep the Rich Rich” Party because they have no concept of reality*?)

-It’s imagining all the towns and airports they pass through to reach their destination. Realizing that it’s not just the “stars,” but their hairstylists, their assistants, their camera crews, their drivers, their bodyguards, their security, their… everything. Including fans gathering to be part of the background.

They put on a clown show and set a bad example for people that don’t have the budget to practice even a modicum of safety measures. (We’re lucky some people are even wearing masks. Looking at you, Sturgis. Shoulda canceled.)

So these badly timed TV shows about rich people having glorious vacations? It’s grotesque.

We’re in the middle of a pandemic!

Over 1,297,750 deaths attributed to COVID-19 worldwide. Over 247,000 deaths in the United States alone.

And these sub-celebrities are showing themselves on TV and social media having the greatest time of their lives. “There’s no lines!”

I’m tired of “reality TV” that is so far from reality that it’s nothing but propaganda. Just look at the networks paying for this society destroying content, and then look at the network owners.

Then try not to think about all of the sociology experiments those owners funded to discover what does and does not work to condition the human brain. Don’t think about it. Watch TV.

Everything is fine.

Sprinkle a little sugar on it.

MOAR:

*When you live the level of wealth that these people are born into, they honestly have no concept of deprivation. To them, Fyrefest was of apocalyptic proportions–“We’re all dying here”–which was a blatant untruth as they had the money to buy plane tickets or rent planes to get the heck out.

Any of us poors get stuck somewhere?

We have no money to get away.

Our friends and families have no money to either help us get away or come rescue us themselves.

The message from movies like “Taken” isn’t that “Daddy is a killer man and he’s gonna snap necks until he gets you home, girl,” it’s “You’re going to die in a brothel in a foreign country, strung out on drugs. And when you’re finally rescued, it’ll be because somebody is looking for someone else and you’ll have to live or die with the guilt that they left all those other victims behind.”

Being poor is being trapped in an untenable situation because you don’t have money to live.

It’s being stuck somewhere due to financial debt or just an inability to buy a bus ticket. So even if you have a place to go (which you might not), you can’t come up with even $20 to make some energy balls to eat when you start walking the 500 miles home.

And if you’re in another country? And your hosts have taken away your passport?

Events like the Fyrefest–or a Tr*mp rally–where everyone got shipped in, then found out it was “make your own way home” are horrible scenarios. “Sucks to be you… hope you’re all alright” with no real fear because come on. Buses showed up to get them to their cars. They were rich enough to charter jets to get home. They were forced to eat a slice of American cheese on plain white bread rather than the gourmet meal they were expecting.

They were still privileged fukks when they went home.

The rest of us? We’ve been stuck at Fyrefestivus 24/7 for the last 11, nearly 12 months.

We’ve run out of toilet paper.

We’ve run out of clean water.

We’re lonely because we can’t see friends or find lovers because we can’t go out.

We’re cold and we don’t have Internet, yet kids are supposed to be in school.

And we’re pissed off about it.

Because they’re talking about branching off into their own news stations and private channels where they can exclude us for their own peace of mind. (Who wants to see homeless people when they’re eating?) They’ve spent decades funding shows that depict the poor, the disabled, and “the different” in a way that frames their utter xenophobia as some kind of shared joke. (“Hahaha, [minority] people.” “The food of [some other culture] is just as dirty as they are. Huge horse laugh.”)

“It’s just a joke. Why are you taking it so seriously? It’s not like your people are actually dirty. Or that your genitals are in some way of prurient interest and a ‘joking tone’ allows us to say whatever horrible thing we want. [Ethnic] people’s genitals are just made like that; show me yours and I’ll prove it. Why are you getting so butthurt? Why so sensitive? Why you crying? Get over yourself. You’re just stuck up.”

So yeah. Not too keen on watching the rich get richer then share their vacation videos with us.

And then to be such dicks as to buy promotion time for their shows?!?

To FORCE us to watch them having the greatest time of their lives in HD while the rest of us are living in squalor, praying we don’t get sick and die? Or worse, get sick and live with long-term medical issues and a crushing debt that means never being free?

“All I want is a room somewhere,
far away from the cold night air…
Wouldn’t it be lover-ly?”