F*ck Off Friday - FlashFic to WIP

Just the start of an idea floating around...

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“You plugged your phone in, right?” Denny asked as he flipped the sheets back.

“Yes, dear.”

“And it’s on? The ringer’s set to loud?”

“Yes, dear,” I sighed as I crawled into bed. I laid back and rested my head on my crossed hands.

“Sorry, Ras, but you did forget the other day.” He slid under the sheets and scooted over to put his head on my chest with a sigh of his own. His fingers tapped along with my heartbeat where they rested on my ribcage. “I just don’t want to miss it if they call.”

I lifted my head and kissed his hair. “I know babe. I don’t want to miss it either, but face it: the likelihood of it happening any time soon is slim to none.”

He propped his elbow on the bed and ran his fingers through his light brown curls. “Don’t think like that. It’s going to happen.” His hazel eyes were shiny in the glow of the alarm clock on the nightstand. I cupped his cheek in one hand, and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “It has to,” he whispered.

I pulled him in for a kiss. “It will babe. We just have to wait.”

He laid back down, and I felt soft kisses along the scar in the center of my chest before he pressed his ear against my skin. I ran my hand down his back, and his breathing evened out. After a few minutes, he started snoring.

I listened to the light snuffling sounds he made in his sleep as I stared at the ceiling and counted my own heartbeats, like I did most nights. Denny never knew, I don’t think. Our bags were packed, and we had copies of the paperwork in a leather folder in Denny’s overnight case. Copies were on file with our lawyer, the hospital, and with my parents, just in case. But I’d stopped waiting for the call after the second month.

Six months ago, I was put on The List. Essentially, I’m waiting for someone to die. Well, the right someone. Who happens to have my blood type, is a tissue match, and has a similar build. Oh, and this person has to die in the right way, so the farmers masquerading as doctors can harvest his organs. And did I mention that it would best that this miraculous match dies in the right way within a couple of hundred miles of me, so the heart that beat in his chest can replace the one that’s going out in mine, so I can get another fifteen years with Denny, if we’re lucky.

No, that’s not too much to ask for at all, is it?

***

We'll see where this one goes.

~xxx~

F*ck Off Friday - Guest F*cker Summer Michaels

Howdy, Summer. Come on in and take a load off. Let me pour you some iced tea and we'll dish...

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Fuck Off Food Network…

Recently, I have been wanting to spice up my dinner meals. My kids grow tired of the same types of food week after week. Honest to goodness I have been burning my evenings meat so bad that my five year old piped up last night and said, "You know who likes burnt meat? Mom! She burns it all the time."

So I started watching the Food Network. I have several DVD's of Paula Deen, I thought…Hey! I can cook like her. I have that southern "Hey y'all" draw. I can do this!

(These are like the set I bought, but mine have red handles.)

Um, yeah not so much. I went out and bought the knives all the Food Network chefs seem to have. You know the ones, with the cool colors and seem to cut your veggies without effort?   So I open my new shiny knife set. I sliced the palm of my hand open. I was NOT going to let this set me back. Nope! I am going to cool like Paula, dang it!

I wanted to cook ribs on the grill, but I wanted my meat to boil in beer to give it that added flavor. I pre-cook the ribs on Saturday and let them sit until Monday night. OH they smelled great! I was so damn proud of myself. I lit the grill (alright, you caught me, my neighbor did. I'm so afraid I will blow up if I start a grill). I let it warm up before putting my ribs on the sizzling cast iron. The smells coming from that grill was mouthwatering!

I go and turn them once and go back inside to check on my skillet corn. It was shaping up nicely! The broccoli and cheese casserole were about finished, so I started making sweet tea. Such a great southern food menu. I was still proud as a peacock, strutting my stuff around the kitchen.

So I plate up all my plates (six total) and go out to get the ribs. In the back of my mind, I notice the smoke now rolling from the grill. I was hoping and praying it meant good things. Sadly, I once again this week burned my dinner meat. To be honest, I didn't just burn it, I torched those suckers!

I was so disheartened. The ribs I spent two days working on were now ash. I thought about saying a prayer, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, don't leave the ribs unattended that's a must."

Somewhere in a kitchen across America, Paula Deen is shaking her head at me. You know what I say? Fuck off Food Network! It's your damn fault for showing me and countless others the many different menu's we could create in thirty minutes or less, on a shoestring budget,  or fix it quick meals.  One day my kids are going to be excited about a meal I prepare. One day Food Network, one day!

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I have to say I agree with you Summer. They make it look so easy. "Oh, you're going to chop it just like this, and then you'll put it in the pan...."

A box of gauze pads, a roll of duct tape, and a tube of neospirn later, we may have something that resembles road kill.

Make sure to visit Summer at her blog. 

~xxx~

F*ck Off Friday - FlashFic Sonnet

I love silly plot generators. Making sense out of crazy plots really is fun for me. The crazier, the better. I just can't help myself. 


MIX UP MASH UP PLOT:  Entropy hunters and ritual magic in far Future Tokyo. Some things you might run into: a relationship ending, an unexpected ally, a malfunction, a fall from grace and forgiveness. Don't forget about the hollow tree, crown prince, greaves and letter

BONUS CHALLENGE: in a sonnet, just because


Encased in greaves, hidden from sight, he waits
His heartbeat slows as his quarry draws near.
Magic tingles fingers and sets the bait;
His prey senses danger, but shows no fear.

Staying his steed, the Prince surveys the site.
A man. Injured, ailing, fading away.
Gasping, yet refusing to give up the fight.
He reaches, grabs, though he suspects foul play.

Fires flare from the pits of Tokyo Old;
The Prince recognizes the Hunter's brand.
Lovers from friends, but the passion grew cold.
Energy drains through the joining of hands.

Betrayed, the Prince smiles, the pain sears his heart
Forgives, pardons, and falls when pulled apart.


Hmmm. Not so much, huh? 


Maybe I should stick to limericks and haikus. Who would have thought it would be so hard to fit "Tokyo" in iambic pentameter?


~xxx~

F*ck Off Friday - (NSFW) FlashFic Fun

If you know me, then you know I love to make the bizarre feasible and appealing. Getting the strangest prompt and turning it into something interesting and fun just gets Spunky excited. So, when Poppy ran across this prompt, she couldn't help but double-dog dare me.


The Challenge: This is an epic about pursuit. The story is about an introverted physicist and a treasure-hunter who hates a ranger. It takes place in a condominium. A magical accident plays an important role.

Honestly, how can I resist?
(answer: I can't :D )

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The edges of the pages fluttered when the air conditioning unit kicked on. Levi looked over them, spread out over the coffee table. It was warm in the condo, but he wouldn't risk turning on the ceiling fan and blowing the documents around. These were priceless artifacts: ancient texts, yellowed, edges curling in age. The penmanship alone was thrilling to him. But what was written on them was what really got Levi excited. He knelt on the floor and looked over them one more time.

"Dags, this is amazing," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "Where did you…." He couldn't finish his thought. The formulas drew him in. He sat on the floor and leaned back against Dagger's knees to stop from reaching out and touching the pages.

Dagger's fingers itched to run themselves through Levi's hair that was sitting enticingly close to his groin. He was dying to know if the wavy red curls would be as soft as he imagined they would. He longed to pull his glasses off and get a look at those gray-blue eyes that had turned up to look into his face. And just one taste of those full, pale pink lips…. No. Levi was his best friend. He couldn't do it. But those eyes, sparkling with enthusiasm and looking over those black frames, and the little bounce he was doing, like he didn't know whether to go running around the room or just jump up and down. Jump up and down…. Yeah…. On my cock. Dagger cleared his throat before he cold speak.

"It was in a tomb at the last dig. I thought I'd bring them to you, since they're all math shit." He tried to nonchalantly suck in his breath to keep from acting on his desires. It was hard though, when Levi shuffled around on his knees and put his hands on both sides of Dagger's legs, trapping him in place.

"Do you realize what you've found?" Levi asked breathlessly.

Dagger squirmed in his seat. Levi's closeness was throwing him off balance. His entire countenance was at war with what was going on inside him.

"Math shit?" Gods, he hoped his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt. His whole body thrummed, and he was only getting strung tighter as Levi leaned in close to look at his face.

"Portable nuclear fusion! Can you imagine? These formulas are thousands of years old. They created a way to harness all that energy into a pocket-sized device. Everything from science fiction is about to become fact! It's been under the sand all this time. And no one knew." Levi shook his head. "No one knew," he whispered.

Levi's body practically quivered against Dagger's knees, the thrum of excitement running through him was so strong. "I–" Dagger started, but no real words could come out.

"Hey, are you all right?" Levi reached out and trailed a finger along Dagger's arm. "You've got goose bumps. You didn't catch anything out there this time, did you?"

"No," Dagger said, probably a bit too emphatically, judging on the look Levi was giving him. He pushed up to his feet, and Levi grabbed his hips to keep from falling over. And didn't that put Levi's face at just the right height to suck Dagger's cock into that pretty mouth of his. Dagger almost reached down to cup Levi's face and suggest he do just that before he got control of himself again.

"Dags? Are you sure you're all right?" Levi swayed on his knees, and that face brushed against Dagger's thigh. Did it stay there longer than necessary, Dagger wondered. The A/C unit clicked off, and he could hear Levi exhale below him. Hot air warmed his hip. It spread for a second before it dissipated and left a cool spot. His cock pushed painfully against his zipper, and he curled his hands into fists. He shut his eyes tight to block out the look on Levi's face.

Was he all right? That was the million-daric question, wasn't it? No way he could tell Levi the truth about what happened out there in the desert. He shuddered, and Levi's arms wrapped themselves around his thighs. A whimper echoed in the room, and Dagger realized it came from him. Levi's head moved, and his freckled cheek brushed against the front of Dagger's trousers. That time, the touch lasted longer. No way the second scrape of whiskers along the fabric was accidental.

"Dags?" Dagger opened his eyes and looked down at Levi. Those stormy blue eyes seemed to bore into his soul. "Tell me."

Dagger gave into the temptation and set his hand on Levi's head. The curls felt like silk ringlets under his fingers. He combed is fingers through them. Levi seemed to turn into his touch, and Dagger dropped onto the couch and sighed.

"We let something out."


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Hmmmm.  What did they let out? And why is Dagger so nervous about it?

Yeah. I think this one is going to turn into a novel at some point. Dagger just won't be quiet.

~xxx~

F*ck Off Friday

Welcome to my first Fuck Off Friday.

Wondering what it is? Well, it could go one of two ways. Either I'm fucking off, not doing much of anything, and I'll post something fun or stupid (even more so than the torture I inflicted with Music Monday), or, if a rant is in order, it will be Fuck off! Friday. I'll invite some guest fuckers from time to time so they can get things off their chests too.

Today is a mixed bag. I feel the intense need to tell someone to fuck off, and I can't muster the energy to do much more than fuck off.

Without further adieu:

Xara: Self, FUCK OFF. 
You know what you need to do. Stop fucking off and do it. Buckle down, focus your energy on your work, and shut the shiny the fuck off.

Self: Right back atcha. And I will, right after I finish this....

and this.....

All right. After this one....

Damn. I think I'm addicted....

Right. Really fucking off now, before my nerd takes over and I start dissecting my laptop.

~xxx~