#<- Tag that will be unusable for a few months when trying to find art of canon tenna when Chapters 3 and 4 are out

[demphix]

Tenna design I procrastinated on so hard that the release window for Real Chapter 3 is looming over her like a guillotine now

Yes I know we only have canon Tenna he/him from the sweepstakes dialogue rn but I Do Not Care

[shortkingzuko]

title: love lines

relationship: mai/ty lee

no warnings that i can think of

summary: Mai tries not to think about how nice it was to feel Ty Lee’s hand against her own, tries not to think about how it would feel to have her press kisses against her palms or feel her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. In some ways she feels nostalgic for when they were kids when Ty Lee was equally as touchy but before she learned to respect Mai’s boundaries. What a fool she was, to establish such firm boundaries in such harsh fashions. Mai hopes that Ty Lee will trip up, hug her for too long or too tight, press a kiss against her cheek in greeting as she does for so many others. Of course, Ty Lee never does. She’s too good, cares too much about Mai’s comfort, and tries so hard to make sure that she is never the cause of distress. Mai has never been described as touchy, and she made sure that everyone knew it. She wishes she could think of a way to tell Ty Lee that she might be the only exception.-- OR; Intricate Rituals Constructed To Allow Mai To Touch The Skin of Another Woman

this was a pinch hit that i fulfilled for @avatar-rarepair-exchange-2021 !! really fun to write :^)

read it on ao3 (and see all my tags and joshin around) or read it under the cut !!

“Mai, give me your hand,” Ty lee says, voice piercing through Mai’s concentration easily. She lets go of the edge of her book, languidly lifting it towards Ty Lee.

“Why do-” Mai’s question is cut off when a strong tug pulls her arm and her attention. “Ty Lee, what are you doing?”

Ty Lee holds Mai’s wrist, one hand pushing back her gently curled fingers, leaning over to eye at her palm closely.

“Stop moving!” Ty Lee says, wrestling Mai’s arm into a more convenient position. As quiet as they try to be, Mai can tell that other students are turning around in their seats, trying to get a glimpse of who’s breaking the silence of the library. “I’m trying to read your palm!”

Ty Lee finally has a grip she likes, cradling Mai’s now still palm like it’s something precious. One calloused finger traces over Mai’s skin, tickling it as the pastel pink nail follows some invisible shape. Mai swallows.

“Okay,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. She clenches her free hand into a fist and hopes that the hand that Ty Lee is holding isn’t getting as sweaty. Ty Lee studies the skin carefully, leaning in close at random.

Mai can feel her gentle breath on her hand, and against her best wishes, she finds herself leaning closer too, trying to see whatever is catching Ty Lee’s interest for so long.

After what feels like a thousand heartbeats, Ty Lee lets go. It takes a moment for Mai to realize that she can take her hand back.

“So, what’s the diagnosis, doctor?” Mai asks, trying as subtly as she can to wipe her hand on her jeans. Ty Lee giggles.

“Well the lighting in here isn’t great, so I didn’t get a perfect look, but it looks pretty good to me!” She grins, and Mai almost disagrees with her statement about the lighting, because the way her lip gloss shines and reflects in the fluorescent glow almost makes her brain short circuit.

Mai raises an eyebrow and looks at Ty Lee for a moment. Their staredown only lasts for a few seconds before Ty Lee laughs again.

“Fine! Fine! I’m still learning though,” she says, impassionedly, motioning to the various books and magazines that she’s spread out on their table, “but it looks like your success or money line was good-”

“It better be.”

“Yes, yes, I know, you’re in the sciences for the money. It looked pretty good, your lifeline looked  very  good, no breaks! And, uh,” Ty Lee almost looks bashful, with the way she looks away, cheeks going pink, “Your marriage line is pretty short, but your love line looks good.”

“Marriage is a sham,” Mai says, automatically. She doesn’t know why her heart is beating so fast at Ty Lee mentioning love. She always seems to feel nervous at the mention of love, or dating, or romance these days, though she tries hard to hide it. Ever since she came out as gay it  feels  like every mention is pointed at her, for some reason, like any whisper of love is meant to get a reaction out of her.

She knows it isn’t true, knows that Ty Lee of all people would never try to wind her up or make her uncomfortable on purpose. Mai’s certain that if she voiced these feelings to Ty Lee, armchair therapist that she is, that she would receive a long lecture about becoming more comfortable with herself and her desires, how she needs to stop repressing her feelings and ‘let her heart sing’ or something like that. Just the thought of it, makes Mai try to push the thought down even more.

“I know that you think marriage is a sham.” Ty Lee pouts and leans her chin on her propped up arm. The friendship bracelet that she forced Mai to make with her hands proudly on her wrist. Mai has to force herself to pull her eyes away from it and look back at the physics textbook that she should have been studying this entire time. “Maybe that’s why your marriage line is so much shorter than your love line.”

“I didn’t know that a marriage line existed,” Mai mutters, attempting to lose herself into equations and examples utilizing her ‘cousin Throckmorton.’ Ty Lee just hums in response, flipping back open a book of her own. They settle back into silence - a fact that those in their surrounding tables are surely thankful for - and it takes Mai a few more minutes to feel her heartbeat settle down too.

Mai tries not to think about how nice it was to feel Ty Lee’s hand against her own, tries not to think about how it would feel to have her press kisses against her palms or feel her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. In some ways she feels nostalgic for when they were kids when Ty Lee was equally as touchy but before she learned to respect Mai’s boundaries. What a fool she was, to establish such firm boundaries in such harsh fashions. Mai hopes that Ty Lee will trip up, hug her for too long or too tight, press a kiss against her cheek in greeting as she does for so many others.

Of course, Ty Lee never does. She’s too good, cares too much about Mai’s comfort, and tries so hard to make sure that she is never the cause of distress. Mai has never been described as touchy, and she made sure that everyone knew it.

She wishes she could think of a way to tell Ty Lee that she might be the only exception.

Mai lets the thought swim around in her head as she waits for Ty Lee to finish her martial arts club. Other girls stream out of the practice room and changing room, and Mai does her best to sidestep all of them. She peers through the small crowd, trying to see the tell-tale high ponytail and pink scrunchy. The tea she’s holding is starting to burn her hand, and just as she’s about to turn to try and find a place to set it down, she sees a flurry of pink and then Ty Lee’s beaming face.

“Mai!” She cheers. Her cheeks are just as pink as her sweatshirt, and as she walks towards Mai she tries frantically to stab her dangly earrings back into her ears. It takes Mai a second to recognize them as the little daggers-earrings that she gifted her months ago. When Ty Lee gets close enough, Mai thrusts out her hand.

“I brought you that tea you like,” she says, hoping that her affection doesn’t seep into her voice. The way Ty Lee grins makes her think that maybe she failed. She doesn’t know if the thought upsets her or not.

“Aw, you’re so sweet!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are,” Ty Lee teases, trying again to get her earring through its hole. She reaches out with one hand to save Mai’s hand from the hot cup, and Mai doesn’t allow herself to dwell on the feeling of gentle fingers brushing against her own.

“Want some help?” Mai asks instead. Ty Lee looks surprised for only a split second before she nods, passing her earrings to Mai’s outstretched hand.

A thrum of excitement courses through Mai’s body as she steps closer to Ty Lee. It isn’t cute or romantic, in fact, it’s kind of gross - Ty Lee still has sweat clinging to her neck and hair, and she smells vaguely of the university gym’s foam mats. Mai carefully pushes the earrings into each of Ty Lee’s ears, taking a moment longer than necessary to ‘make sure they’re both in.’

She steps back and sees that Ty Lee is smiling, but more softly, gentler than her usual beam.

“Thank you, Mai,” she says, soft enough that Mai almost has to strain to hear it over the ruckus of other students clamouring to get to their swim practice in time.

“Of course,” she chokes out, “Anytime.”

Mai is laying on Ty Lee’s laid out hoodie and is leaning her head on Ty Lee’s backpack. Her homework has been long abandoned as she watches Ty Lee run around with their friends on the unused field. Aang holds a frisbee, while Suki holds a baseball bat, and Katara and Sokka both seem intent to tackle each other and Zuko into the ground. Mai has long lost track of whatever game or objective they originally had but it’s still mildly entertaining.

She watches as Ty Lee jogs over, flopping dramatically on the grass next to her.

“Phew! What a game!” She says dramatically, not bothering to explain what the game is, and stretching in a way that reminds Mai of a cat. She turns to her side and props her head on a hand. “You doing okay over here?”

“Yes,” Mai says, flicking a piece of grass off her jeans. “I’m just resting. Class was… tiring.”

Ty Lee hums. “Well, make sure you don’t get a sunburn! It’s bright today, isn’t it?”

Mai looks up at the sky, the sun indeed shining brightly, occasionally intercepted by fluffy clouds that float lazily in the stratosphere. She looks down at her hands, curled loosely on her lap.

“Yeah, pretty sunny.” She purses her lips. “Since the lighting is good, want to take another look at my palm?”

“Huh?” Ty Lee says, and for a moment Mai wishes the ground would swallow her whole. Of course, Ty Lee doesn’t remember, she looked at Mai’s hand weeks ago. She’s probably moved on to a different hobby, has no clue what Mai is- “Oh, yeah! Totally!”

She quickly sits up and scooches over to press herself closely to Mai’s side, snatching Mai’s hand out of her lap, and cradling it.

“Oh, I can see all the lines much better!” She exclaims, tracing all of them gently with a manicured finger. Mai is thankful that Ty Lee is so preoccupied with her task because it allows her to close her eyes, bask in this closeness, trying to let herself feel okay with feeling. Her face feels warm, and though she knows that to a stranger she likely looks no different, she knows that if Ty Lee glances up she’ll be able to instantly see the faintest whisper of pink across her nose and ears.

She can tell Ty Lee is almost done with her examination when she hears her let out another hum. She snaps her eyes open and lets out a calming breath, tries to look nonchalant when Ty Lee glances back up at her.

“Money and life lines still look good,” Ty Lee says, smiling gently like she’s telling a long-con of a joke, “And look, your love line and life line are parallel to each other!”

Mai leans over and looks at her hand, eyes darting to Ty Lee’s sparkly nail polish. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, them being parallel means that you’re in control of your emotions, but since your love line starts  here-”  She taps just below Mai’s index finger, “It means that you’ll have a happy love life!”

“Oh… that’s nice,” Mai says.

“Totally nice! And look at your wisdom line, so clear! It says you're really careful and intelligent. Look at mine, all wavy. It tells you that I don’t focus on much.” She laughs and places a hand gently on top of Mai’s. Against herself, Mai reaches out, gently tracing lines on Ty Lee’s palm even though she can’t tell one line from another. She tries to look for a line that wavers, but the heartbeat in her ears distracts her.

All too soon, Ty Lee removes her hand and goes back to prattling away about different lines and their meanings. Mai can barely focus and doesn’t care much about the technicalities, but she enjoys the excitement that flows off of Ty Lee like an unpolluted stream and feels a warmth bloom in her chest as she cheats a few more minutes of comfort from her friend.

Ty Lee’s dorm is much messier than Mai’s is, and with anyone else, Mai would either bully them into cleaning or not bother entering. The pile of clutter, ‘mementos’, and undeniable garbage seems to lay claim to anything that leaves a person’s hand, hiding it away so that it takes at least a few minutes of searching to find anything. In contrast, Mai’s dorm is neat, orderly, minimalistic. Her first-year roommate once looked at Mai’s pristine desk and said it looked devoid of personality. It was easy for Mai to let people assume that no personality is her personality than explain every niche caveat of the point. The sheets she brings from home at black. She brings no posters, only hangs academic photos and graphs to help her study. Mai values privacy, values the protection that a blank face and dispassionate voice give her. It’s not that Mai lacks a personality, she thinks to herself, she lacks the need - or maybe the ability - to express it to everyone.

Ty Lee has none of those problems. Her personality drips off of everything she touches. Her room is a shrine to everything she loves in life. Ty Lee herself is a shrine to everything she loves. Mai sits at Ty Lee’s desk, shoving knickknacks to the side as she tries to make enough space for her hefty workbook. Ty Lee lays on her bed, legs kicked up in the air, staring boredly at her education textbook. When Mai can finally open her book without risking breaking any of the junk scattered on the desk, she starts working, sighing every once in a while as the work goes on and on.

They’re about half an hour into their work when Mai’s pen dies mid-equation. She furrows her eyebrows and tries to write again, getting nothing except a small rip in the cheap paper. She scribbles at the side of the page and only sees a faint indent. She groans.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Ty Lee asks, likely taking any excuse to push aside work for a few moments.

“Pen died,” Mai huffs, glancing around for where she put her bookbag. The number of blankets, sweaters, pillows, and scarves serve not only as a fire hazard but as excellent camouflage, even with the intense colour difference between their pink-to-orange-to-yellow hue and the dark, rich, burgundy of Mai’s bag.

“Just take one of mine,” Ty Lee says, “I have tons of ‘em.”

“Did you shoplift them?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Mai says, reaching for the first pen she sees. Like many other things in the room, it’s pink, with a plastic star sticking on its end, bobbing with every movement. Mai does a test scribble and once she can tell it works, she dives back into her work, even as it becomes obvious that Ty Lee has gotten herself distracted.

After a few hours of studying and hanging out, Mai shoves her workbook into her now-found bag and walks across campus back to her dorm. When she takes everything out, she sees that she accidentally brought the pen with her. Walking all the way back seems pointless, and it’s not like Ty Lee would mind if she kept it.

She tosses her workbook on her desk, and carefully arranges the pen so that it’s square with the others.

Mai can feel her heart pounding as Ty Lee lays next to her, can feel her palms begin to sweat even as she rubs them nervously against her black sheets. Ty Lee watches the movie on the laptop screen while Mai keeps sneaking glances at Ty Lee.

She practiced what she wanted to say, how she was going to say it, but now it feels impersonal, cold, just as cool and bland as everyone thinks she is. She knows that Ty Lee would never think that, she somehow just  knows   how   much   and how   big  Mai’s feelings are even if she can’t show them.

Mai also knows that this won’t be a pointless venture. She’s repressed and scared but she’s not stupid. She knows that Ty Lee doesn’t spend the same amount of time with all her other friends, that she doesn’t try to reign herself in with anyone else, doesn’t try to wear black or burgundy or ‘edgy’ jewelry with the hopes of matching with anyone else, knows that she doesn’t send text messages with hearts for just  anyone.  Those are just for Mai.

As comfortable as  this  feels, as everything with Ty Lee feels, Mai knows that both of them want more. Ty Lee deserves more than just a friend with a crush. Maybe Mai deserves more too.

Steeling herself, Mai quickly leans over and flicks on the light, causing Ty Lee to blink rapidly and say, “Hey, what’s the big idea!”

“Ty Lee, can you read my palm again,” Mai rushes out, nearly stumbling over her own words. Ty Lee tilts her head.

“Why? Palm lines don’t really change, not like horoscopes or tarot cards or-”

“I want you to look at my love line again.” Mai can feel the tips of her ears warming and resists the urge to smooth her hair over them. She sees Ty Lee’s eyes - so calm and gentle - glance at the pinkening skin.

“Your love line?” Ty Lee repeats, a small smile appearing on her face.

Mai nods. “Yes.”

She holds out a hand, and Ty Lee gently takes hold. She takes her time to uncurl Mai’s fingers, to trace over the lines, pressing her body into Mai’s arm.

“Your love line looks good,” Ty Lee says softly, “Predicts a happy experience.”

“Any indication on when?” Mai asks, fingers twitching under Ty Lee’s gentle care.

Ty Lee pauses for a moment then shakes her head. “I think… that might be up to you.”

Mai nods. “Right, of course.” She takes a deep breath. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Ty Lee looks disappointed for a moment, makes to pull her hand away when Mai reaches for it ever so slightly, lacing their fingers together. Ty Lee looks down at their entwined hands, looks back at Mai and smiles, gentle and warm.

It takes Mai another second to calm the short circuit of her brain before she turns her head and leans towards Ty Lee. She’s pleased when Ty Lee meets her partway, and Mai can taste Ty Lee’s strawberry chapstick on her tongue, can feel the tingling of sparkles in her lip gloss and the buzz and the flutter of Ty Lee’s eyelashes against her face.

She can tell Ty Lee is smiling. Mai thinks she might be smiling too. She surprises herself by chasing after Ty Lee’s lips when she pulls away for a moment and isn't surprised at the giggles she gets in response. Her face is warm, her heart is thudding in her chest, and she isn’t remotely in her comfort zone. Ty Lee’s hand is calloused and gentle and warm and soft, and Mai is  holding it.  

Mai thinks she can get used to expressing her wants a little bit more if this is the outcome she gets.

[dusky-dancing]

What Grows in Winter

Rating: T

Length: ~4500 words

Pairing: Felix Hugo Fraldarius / Byleth Eisner

Tags: Mistletoe, Hand Warming, Kissing, Holiday Tropes, Fluff, Pining.

Summary: Fodlan’s coldest winter and a gruesome war greet Byleth upon waking from her five-year slumber, and while an improvised winter celebration is in the works, she’s more drawn to a familiar stability. Surely, whatever grows in the harshest seasons can survive anything.

This is my Felileth Secret Santa gift for Rex a.k.a Smoke n’ Milk! Check out their art twitter if you’re craving some Felileth. I hope you all enjoy, and have a very Merry Christmas!

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Snow made sparring more challenging. Byleth already knew this, but to do so with Felix only a month after she’d awoken from her five-year slumber was much harder than she’d imagined. 

It didn’t help that the weather had been relentless that year, and missing Red Wolf Moon meant missing wolf-hunting season, which would’ve supplied their soldiers and allies with the pelts and meat they needed to survive the cold. The guilt tugged at her mind at all times. So many from both the church and the Kingdom had quickly joined the cause with her name, yet she had nothing to show for it besides barely fending off an Empire assault. 

Perhaps sparring Felix grew difficult because he’d grown stronger, or that Byleth had just grown weaker. No matter the excuse, her chill-stiffened muscles struggled to stay mobile against her opponent’s relentless strength. 

“You’re slow.” He lunged swiftly, barely giving her time to parry his sword to the side and force an opening. His body pivoted with the movement, however, and their swords clashed before she could move forward on the offensive. 

“It’s called a warm-up, Felix,” she panted.

“Maybe you’ll finally buy a coat, or make actual use of the one you already have,” he smirked and sliced at her sleeves that dangled unused from her shoulders. “Or admit that I’ve finally surpassed you.”

“Nah,” she said. “Match isn’t over, Fraldarius, and I doubt you’d accept victory that easily.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled before assuming a ready stance and waiting for her to move first.

Byleth almost accepted his bait out of spite until she felt something tickle her hair. Old habits kicked in, and she spun towards their intruder, which in turn startled Felix. Her sword swung for whatever had snuck up on them, but met only empty air, then a small fishing line. The culprit, a small tuft of twigs, leaves, and red berries, fell to her feet.

“Woah, woah! Easy!” Sylvain yelled from above. The paladin had somehow managed to climb to the roof with a fishing pole without alerting either Felix or Byleth to his presence. Maybe Byleth really had lost her touch.

“Sylvain, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Felix shouted. 

With that, Sylvain leapt from the roof, dusted himself off, and held his hands up in defeat. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you! You two must’ve been really distracted.” He eyed the severed end of his fishing line. “How did you cut this with a wooden sword?”

“What do you want?” Felix asked. “We’re busy, if you haven’t noticed.”

Byleth’s eyes drifted to the small green shrub lying in the snow. “And what is that?” she added.

“Oh, this?” Sylvain smirked and picked it up, twirling it in his fingers. “Glad you asked. Annette and Merci tasked me with getting everyone into a more... festive ...spirit.”

Right, the mages’ mission to lift everyone’s spirits with an improvised winter celebration. The Lions had reunited, as had many of their allies, but Dimitri was far from a kingly state, their supplies ran short, and the monastery’s defenses were unprepared for another Empire incursion. The millenium-old walls had been worse for wear after five years of war and neglect, but their fortress, like their resolve to carry on, held together.

Mercedes and Annette had immediately called for a celebration of Byleth’s return, though she argued they had many more reasons to celebrate. The Millenium Festival marked their reunion, but the decorations, the music, the feasts, and the bright firelight that contrasted with the white snow had been absent. The two women were making up for that now, and most of the Lions had agreed to help. 

“Sylvain, you know you’re supposed to hang up decorations, not flail them around on a fishing rod, right?”

“Ah, but this isn’t a decoration, my good friend.” He tied the bundle to the freshly-cut end of the fishing line and wiggled it between Felix and Byleth. “This, here, is a mistletoe.”

Byleth didn’t know what any of that meant, but if Felix’s reaction was any indication, it wasn’t any good. His annoyed narrow eyes flew open, and his cheeks that surely must have been freezing in the falling snow flushed red. 

“See? Felix knows! I knew you’d-”

“Get lost, Sylvain.” Felix ducked away from the plant as if it was a deadly poison.

“Not until you two follow the tradition.” Sylvain’s unyielding grin told Byleth that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Few were immune to Felix’s sudden outbursts, and Sylvain was likely the most seasoned in navigating the swordsman’s temper. 

Despite the dread hanging in the air, Byleth was curious. “What tradition?”

Felix spun around and pointed his glove in Sylvain’s face. “Don’t tell her!” He didn’t address Byleth directly, but nodded to her. “Trust me, you’re better off not knowing our stupid traditions.”

“Great idea, Felix, why don’t you tell her!” Sylvain nudged his friend as his voice nearly sang. Their moods couldn’t be more opposite, but Byleth knew whose taste aligned more with her own. 

Felix grunted. “Let’s just get back to training.”

In their brief repose, Byleth’s muscles had only stiffened by remaining stagnant. And she couldn’t deny her curiosity. “I’m not participating in any weird Faerghus traditions, but I should still know what they are.”

Sylvain’s smile grew all the way to his eyes while Felix scoffed with a look of betrayal. Maybe he wished that she’d push Sylvain to drop it. After a few tense moments, however, he yielded and turned back toward her. Even so, he kept his face turned away from her.

“When two people are caught under a mistletoe, the dumb tradition says they have to...kiss.”

“Oh,” was all Byleth could say in response. If Sylvain was watching her for a strong reaction, he wouldn’t get one. But that was only because her insides were imploding.

Sylvain wanted him to kiss her? Had he chosen them on purpose, or had it just been coincidence?

Did she... want to kiss Felix?

The man didn’t give her time to ponder the sensation any further. “But like I said, it’s dumb, it’s cold, and we’re busy. So get lost, Sylvain.”

“Oh, you’re busy . I see how it is.” He reeled in the mistletoe and swung it over his shoulder. “You two are the first to refuse, you know. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just a sign. A mistletoe is an omen of peace and protection from death. They grow even in the harshest winter. The fact that some began sprouting on the shrubs throughout the monastery is good, no?”

Felix’s face flared red, either with seething anger or pure embarrassment. “Then go find more willing participants and tell Edelgard the war’s over because of some weeds. Leave us.”

Sylvain threw his hands up in defeat. “All right, all right, I surrender. Consent is important, anyways.” Before he pushed the training ground doors open, however, he turned and gave them one last of his dazzling smiles. “You never refused, though. All I heard were excuses.” And with that, he shrugged and moved through the doors.

“Don’t waste that fishing line, Sylvain, I’ll need it later!” Byleth shouted before the doors slammed shut. An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. Byleth was sure her fingers had fused to her sword hilt. “My hands are freezing,” she said in an attempt to break the tension and turn the conversation elsewhere.

When his eyes met hers, however, he almost looked apologetic. He’d never apologized for his outbursts in the past, so why did he look so regretful now?

Oh. 

Oh.

Her attempt to pull his attention away from the awkward situation appeared to work as he strode over to her and removed a glove. Atleast, it worked until his bare hand touched hers, and her cheeks flared with heat. Maybe it was just because his hand was exceptionally warm compared to hers, or maybe it was the sudden close proximity. Regardless, their brief reprieve from recent events was short-lived.

Felix pulled his hand away quickly. “Well, damn, of course they are. You’re gripping a wooden sword in the freezing snow, bare-handed. Will you buy some gloves already?”

“I suppose I’m not used to the cold.” She leaned her sword against a nearby pillar. Relieved that it hadn’t frozen stuck to her palm, she rubbed her now-free hands together for warmth. “It’s worse this year than I remember. Gloves are hard enough to come by, and I can’t...” she paused, recalling how many at the monastery were even less equipped for the cold. “I can’t let myself get comfortable yet.”

Felix sighed, still keeping arm’s distance from her. A moment later, he offered her both of his gloves. She was in the middle of exhaling warm breath against her hands and froze at his sudden gesture. 

“Here, you’ll get warmer faster, then we can get back to work.”

He’d never demanded that she borrow anything of his before - not his coat, his gloves, and certainly not his sword. But she knew better than to leave him hanging for too long.

“Thank you,” she said before taking them. Her hands already felt warmer just holding the thick hide fabric. His gloves outsized her hands noticeably, and she didn’t miss the chuckle that came from him when the tips of the fingers flopped over. 

But they were extremely warm. Instinctively, she clasped her hands together and brought them close to her face, and she inhaled the scent of pine and sword oil.

Was this how he always smelled?

“Felix?” she asked. He was doing everything in his power to not watch her, but his head turned toward her curiously. “You were right. Traditions are stupid,” she smirked. 

His shoulders relaxed, and a half-smile to match her own replaced the scowl that had been present since Sylvain’s provocation. “I get why people have them, but there’s no point to just follow them blindly.”

“Even if they’re just for fun?” she asked.

“Sylvain should know better than to ask me to do something for fun .”

She smirked, “Yes, but he doesn’t know better than to push your buttons. There, I’d say he succeeded.”

Felix scoffed and turned away. As Byleth’s hands warmed, she realized she’d never really taken the time to notice how much her former students had grown. The one before her certainly had. He was taller and stronger, sure. She knew that enough from training with him, but he’d grown in his own mind as well. He’d hardened himself, likely from the war, yet at the same time his gaze had softened towards her and the other Blue Lions, save for Dimitri.

Maybe his vindication, knowing he’d been right all along about the prince, had brought with it a tragic sense of peace. 

Back when the prince’s demons had begun to show themselves, Felix had been the only one she could approach about it without getting excuses or looks of pity. That was five years ago, though it still lived freshly in Byleth’s memory.

Five years. She’d seen the growth of her former students, but how had their view of her changed during her absence? How had Felix’s? If he’d thought her to be dead, perhaps he’d simply tucked away memories of her next to Glenn and sought out another rival to overcome. If he’d thought she lived, maybe he’d searched for her and had become more concerned and angry as time went on. Felix hadn’t volunteered which side he’d leaned toward yet, and truth be told, it didn’t matter to Byleth whether he’d believed her to be alive or dead. The fact that he was sparring with her now was enough of an answer.

She learned one more crucial piece of information - that the thought of kissing her made Felix absolutely flustered, not annoyed or irritated.

Despite how everything had changed, Felix remained a source of stability for her. Training with him brought her down to her humanity again, away from the realm of the goddess, nobles, and crests. A second thing she learned - the thought of kissing Felix made her flustered as well. 

Amidst the realization, her hands had regained feeling. The growing impatience of her opponent made itself known in the way he paced with folded arms and tapped his bare fingers. Or maybe similar thoughts refused to leave his mind as well. 

There was one way to find out.

When Byleth returned to Felix his gloves, she raised herself onto her toes, leaned in, and pecked her lips onto his cheek. He immediately pulled away like she’d just stabbed him, with an eyes-wide look of shock. His cheeks flushed red, and his sword fell from his grasp.

Byleth had seen Felix do many things when caught off guard, but she’d never seen him drop his weapon.

“Wh-what the hell was that for?!”

She retreated a step, doing her best to maintain her calm exterior. “As a thanks, and a way to fulfill that stupid tradition.”

He didn’t respond again, which made her second guess her own judgment. He’d looked like he’d wanted to kiss her, right? She hadn’t imagined the way he let her borrow his gloves, the way he watched her when they sparred.

“I-I’m sorry. I just thought that...you know what? Nevermind. I should go eat. The cold’s obviously getting to me.” She began to back away, but his bare hand caught her wrist. When she looked back in shock, his gaze was still fixated on the ground.

“It-it’s fine,” he croaked and cleared his throat before finally meeting her gaze. “But that’s not how the tradition goes.”

Byleth paused. Why did Felix suddenly care about the rules? 

Unless…

“It doesn’t work with...just that.” He stepped closer, keeping a hold on her arm. “You have to…”

Oh.

Did he actually want to kiss her? The way his eyes held her screamed yes , with a taste of caution and a lingering question floating within them. So she answered with the smallest nod she could muster, afraid that moving too quickly would break whatever trance they’d found themselves in. 

He didn’t move to touch her anywhere else, but heat flooded her every fiber as he leaned closer and tilted his head to the side. Her eyes closed themselves, overwhelmed at the sight, and then a warmth brushed across her lips. It was brief, if a little ticklish, and she responded in kind before the sensation quickly retreated.

Her eyes remained shut for too long, afraid of the image that would greet her. Would he look happy? Angry? She feared that he may have already turned his back and walked away before his calloused grip on her arm reminded her that he was still within reach. 

Finally, her eyelids gained the strength to open, and indeed the sight would’ve made her heart race if it hadn’t been permanently unbeating. Felix watched her intently, searching her for emotions. Her self-expression was still muted, but he’d become one of the few people who could read her subtle changes, and she hoped that his intuition had remained with him after all those years.

What his eyes communicated, on the other hand, was as clear as day to her. Though he watched her, his gaze was soft with his eyelids hanging lightly. She cursed the snow that fell between the few inches of space between them, interrupting her view. She’d never denied that he was handsome in the same way she’d never deny his skills with a sword, yet now he looked to her almost as a lover would. Not quite open and comfortable enough to freely steal hazy glances, but enough to ask another question.

Is this really what you want?

A question that went unasked, as the words that came from him brought her thoughts to a halt. “Now it counts,” he spoke plainly, as if he were commenting on her sword technique. 

They avoided one another's gaze once again, with his eyes darting down and hers upwards. She scanned the roof, suddenly paranoid that their prior company hadn’t completely left, and swore she saw a second, fresher disturbance in the snow that blanketed the roof. Whether the redhead would earn himself a few more weeks of stable duty wasn’t on the forefront of her mind, however, compared to the man retreating from her.

“I thought you hated traditions.” She turned her wrist in his grasp so she could return his hold, telling him he could stay if he liked. 

Or possibly ask for more.

The thought of kissing him again, fully aware and able to better-prepare herself, erupted butterflies in her chest. She wondered if this was the closest she’d feel to a racing heartbeat.

“I do.” He kept his tone, but his expression held the same question as before. His voice dropped when he spoke again. “But I don’t...hate you.”

She tried to stop the snort that escaped from her nose to no avail, so her free hand came up to cover her face. Now Felix just looked offended, but the way his face continued to redden as he turned away told her that he wished he’d chosen his words better.

But she didn’t. Felix wasn’t the type of man to overthink his words. It was one of his traits that allowed him to be honest and insightful, even if his words stung. Regardless, she knew that I don’t hate you from Felix meant more than the words themselves. 

Her grip on his wrist held firm, and she ran her thumb along the fabric of his sleeve. “I don’t hate you either, Felix.”

He seemed to just notice her touch, for his attention turned to their interlocked arms. Facing her again, he made her the flustered one when he slid his fingers down to take her hand instead. It surprised her how quickly he could turn the tables against her.

“Byleth…”

Familiarity hit her as he stepped closer again, only now his other hand caressed her shoulder, his warm gloves discarded somewhere in the snow. The gaze in his eyes, however, had shifted drastically. Where previously he approached her like a stray cat, now his eyes resembled a wolf - hungry and knowing exactly what he wanted. Her breath hitched, and she managed to rest her free hand against his waist. He was warm as always, but she swore he was shivering. No, trembling.

“Felix…”

Whatever words tried to spill from her were stopped, but not with the crashing of his lips against hers like she’d imagined. Instead, the doors to the training grounds burst open. 

The wolf-like expression before her switched from hunger to anger. He pushed her away sharply, but she took no offense as she’d probably have done the same. Her attention turned to the entryway, where she expected to see Sylvain. She was partially correct, but the paladin wasn’t alone. 

Ashe ran to the front and nearly collapsed into the snow, out of breath. “You aren’t going to believe this, Professor! I was scouting and-”

“Slow down, Ashe, you’re hyperventilating!” Mercedes patted his back and offered him water. Indeed, his face was beet red, and his breathing short. He panted as if he’d just run several miles up the mountain, which would be true if he’d been scouting.

“Let me finish.” He took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Professor, we won’t have to worry about blankets and pelts this winter, because a herd is approaching! A herd of...llamas!”

The surprise threw Byleth in many different mental directions. She suddenly became aware of her and Felix’s state. They’d tried to appear as if they’d just been sparring like any other day, yet their bare hands, long-abandoned swords, and fresh shoeprints in the snow gave away their close proximity only moments ago. She quickly scanned the crowd to see if anyone had picked up on those details. Ashe, though a skilled scout, was too winded and had let his senses drop within the safety of the monastery. Mercedes and Annette hadn’t noticed. So that just left-

Sylvain didn’t even try to hide the grin plastered on his face. He stood unnoticed in the back of the group, just so only Felix and Byleth would catch his gaze. Byleth felt heat rise to her face, but retained her well-practiced stoic facade. Felix, however, failed to hide his flustered annoyance, and his face grew brighter with every second. Luckily for him, the other students were only looking for their former professor’s reaction.

“We’ve never hunted those before,” Byleth said.

“You don’t hunt them!” Annette jumped to gain everyone’s attention. “You shepherd them and use their fleece to make blankets! They can even protect themselves and other livestock from wolves!”

“I don’t recall llamas being around when I was teaching.”

“They’re native to south Fodlan, where the climate is a little more friendly to them.” Sylvain finally broke his painfully teasing silence. “I guess the combination of the war in Alliance and Empire territory with the thinning human population around here drove them this far north.”

“That’s great news.” Byleth managed a small smile. One of her burdens - helping her friends and comrades survive the brutal winter - had been lifted. 

“Yes!” Annette beamed. “No one will be cold this year!”

“Does this mean we’ll have to cancel our winter festival?” Mercedes asked.

For whatever reason, they looked to Byleth for an answer. She found the gesture sweet, that they still looked to her for guidance or permission for things she was barely involved in. 

She already knew her answer, yet still scanned their faces. Annette and Mercedes begged with their eyes, and she resisted chuckling at their collective adorable nature. Ashe was beginning to regain his strength, seeming to just notice the other people present. It wouldn’t be long before he’d realize the awkwardness of the situation he’d just barged in on. 

Sylvain looked to her curiously. She and Felix had practically cursed holiday traditions earlier, though Byleth had nothing against holidays or celebrations themselves. He was scanning her to see if she’d prioritize fun or practicality.

Well, why not both?

Finally, she turned to the man beside her. Felix waited for her reaction as well, though he’d probably only taken in half of the conversation. The flush of his cheeks had begun to subside, and he shot her a half-smile with folded arms. He knew the answer she was about to give, and was savoring the wait as much as she was.

“Of course not.” She could practically feel the collective sigh and smiled before facing the rest of her audience. “There are plenty of hands looking for busy work. I don’t see why we can’t handle both. Marianne is good with animals, so I’ll appoint her to lead.”

“We should clear a pasture for them, so they’ll know where a safe place is,” Annette added.

Ashe just laughed, seemingly still in disbelief of the day’s events. He definitely wasn’t the only one.

“Oh this is wonderful!” Mercedes clasped her hands together. “I hope they’ll come back next year, and the year after that! Imagine if it were safe enough to let children see them!”

“If they do, we’ll make it a-” the last word caught in Byleth’s throat, and her attention was immediately drawn to Sylvain’s smirk, somehow even larger than earlier. She swallowed and cleared her throat, looked to Felix, then back to Sylvain, and finished her thought, “-a tradition.”

Sylvain snickered, which confused everyone but the swordsmen. Felix’s flush quickly returned. It really wasn’t that hard to get a rise out of him, was it?

“Changed your mind on traditions, Professor?” Sylvain asked with his hands on his hips. “Could it be because some of them might work-”

“We got damn lucky,” Felix interrupted, letting loose his thoughts for the first time in this conversation. “You said it yourself: the war, the low population - that drove them here. Not your stupid mistletoe.”

“Oh, you took out the mistletoe!” Mercedes exclaimed. “You’re the best, Sylvain!” 

“Just doing my duty.”

“Wait.” Annette tapped her chin. “Did Felix actually kiss someone!”

Byleth had done her work to keep the attention off of Felix thus far, but now he’d thrown himself to the wolves. Even Ashe’s eyes lit up. Byleth couldn’t help her amusement.

“No!” Felix shouted and stomped off to gather his sword. No one stopped him.

Sylvain, despite the endless dancing on Felix’s thin ice, came to his friend’s aid. “Alas, even I cannot get Felix to kiss anyone.” It wasn’t technically a lie.

“What about you, Professor?” Mercedes asked. “Did you kiss anyone?”

“I’m not kissing anyone who still calls me ‘Professor.’” Also not a lie, since Felix hadn’t addressed her by that title since their reunion.

“Good point,” Mercedes giggled. “I just can’t bring myself to call you by your first name yet.”

“Yeah,” Annette said. “You’ll always be our professor, first and foremost.”

“Well, someone’s kiss brought survivability to the monastery, that’s all I’m saying.” Sylvain shrugged his shoulders and shot both Felix and Byleth winks from the back. 

Byleth could practically feel the heat radiating off of Felix, compared to the chilled falling snow around them. Luckily for them, Sylvain pushed it no further. Unluckily for them, the rest caught on.

“Felix, are you okay?” Mercedes asked. “You look like you’re catching a cold.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Just want to get back to training. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a war.”

“I suppose we should go count the herd’s numbers,” Ashe said, “and start learning how to use their fleece.”

“Oh! I’ll come!” Annette skipped after him. 

Mercedes eyed Felix suspiciously, not in the way Sylvain had, but like a concerned mother. She looked to Byleth, almost to communicate, make sure he takes care of himself , and Byleth affirmed her with a nod. Sylvain was the last to leave, simply offering the pair one last wink and a salute before closing the doors to the training grounds.

Being alone with Felix once more, they couldn’t ignore what had happened. Her exposed skin suddenly forgot all about the cold, and the supposedly fearless Ashen Demon couldn’t bring herself to look in the eyes of the man who’d kissed her.

“I should go, too,” she said. “I need to ask Marianne to take on her role and...other things.”

Felix was silent as she retrieved her training sword and hung it on the weapon rack where it would be protected by the roof’s overhang. 

Perhaps he was still as flustered as she was, or he’d lost his courage to act. Or perhaps...he’d regretted it all.

Before she reached the large double doors, however, a firm hold pulled at her wrists and spun her around. Amber eyes met hers again, with a familiar hungry expression. 

“Before you go,” he hummed, only audible by their proximity, “just know that I…”

He took a moment to search for the right words, his darting pupils betraying his thoughts. In the end, he gave up on talking and simply kissed her. Damn him for catching her off-guard again, but she wouldn’t hesitate a second time. She pulled her wrists free in favor for grasping his fur collar. Soon she felt his hands at her waist, and knew he wouldn’t retreat.

So warm. He was so warm, and suddenly surviving the harsh war-torn winter didn’t feel so improbable.

[jar-full-of-pixel-hearts]

Suspicious

@Shatter314 request : 

could you do a f. tony one where they work close together and are secretly dating and everyone (maybe like chang and angela. or even mark) is really suspicious and they end up confronting the two of them and f. tony says something to them like "i'm sorry we didn't tell you but i just really love this girl". thank you so much and have a great day!

---

F. Tony x Reader 

Space Force Netflix 

A/N : Hi ! Thank you for your request ! It was a really cute request that I have a lot of fun to write. Writting the word suspicious also make me laugh and sing the famous Don’t be suspicious don’t be suspicious of Jean-Ralphio and Mona Lisa from Park and Rec. I hope you will like it and that you let me know if it’s the case.

--  

You had tried to be discrets. For months now, you only have dates outside of town, text each other under nicknames on your second phones and meet in an empty locked office when everybody is busy somewhere else. But most important, F.Tony and you have mastered the art of turning from lovers to professionals, as much as a social media manager and his assistant can be, in a bat of an eye.

At least, you thought had been discreet.  

Making your way to the office of F. Tony, your phone in your hands, giving a last look at the promotional picture of the astronauts. You push the door, expecting him to be at his morning meeting with the General Naird. It’s that why you gasp so loudly, when you find yourself into his arms at the minute you had pushed the door. In a fluid move,produced by a thousand of similar reunion, you closed the door that he quickly locks before returning his hands to your waist. His hungry mouth only leaves yours for only a few seconds before coming back for more. His tongue joining yours as you breath was becoming more quicker. 

“ Fuck Tony ! what are you doing, we will be caught…” You laugh, still welcoming his lips on yours, his masculin scents making you sense dizzy. 

“ No we don’t, they’re all at these important meetings about a war simulation and I tell them I have important things to do before joining them “ He explained, caressing with his fingers the back of your neck , sending thrills along your spine. “ Your hair looks nice today... is that a new perfume ?“ 

“ Thank you, tie looks really more nicer on you than on that mannequin and no, that's my regular perfume. But as your assistant I have to inform you that kissing me isn’t sadly at the top of your priority list for today. “ You playfully tell, trying to take your professional voice as his hand came back on your waist, pressing your body against his as he was now kissing your neck. 

“ It should. Put it on the top of the list,between my coffee and read the tweet of the day.”  He smiles, kissing you with a little bit more passion as you tried to step back, making you close your eyes and grip his suit jacket to keep your balance. 

“ Aww I come before the morning tweets, that’s such an honor ! “ You smile, trying to regain your breath before gasping at the feeling of his mouth leaving an hickey. “ Fuck Tony no ! I cross the path of people before coming here, they will discover us !” 

“ I made it so tiny they will not see it, promise “ He replied, falling badly at looking sorry. A huge Cheshire cat grin eating his face “ Your phone is ringing” 

“ I noticed thank you ! “ You reply, trying to be mad without success. 

Taking your smartphone, releasing yourself from your boyfriend's arms, you started to walk in the office, taking notes on the unused notepad on the desk, falling quickly back into your professional assistante self.

“ I have to go, we have a problem with the picture of the Chimp, Facebook tags it as if it was P.O.T.U.S… see you at lunch ? “ You ask, kissing his lips in a quick kiss before being brought back with a laugh. 

“Wait, they want me to be the press at the war...you know I will maybe not come back “ He joked, playing you the whole goodbye to the war scene, low voice and puppy eyes included. “ Can I request a kiss before facing a possible death “ 

Rolling your eyes, still amused, you pass your arms around his neck, passionately kiss him, letting him panting and smiling. 

“ See you tonight, I count on you to come back to me in one piece “ You joke, passing the door of the office, yourself still dizzy from the kiss.

--- 

“ Y/N, I think your necklace had a knock...wait...is that an hickey ?” Angela asked you, while you were sitting side by side at the table, eating your lunch, as she was waiting at the order to go to the fake battle.

Putting your hand abruptly on the incriminating mark, you nervously try to brush it off, taking a bite of your sandwich. 

“ A hickey ? Don’t be ridiculous, it’s probably a bruise I make myself I don’t know how. “ You protest. 

“ No no, that really looks like a hickey, girl... where do you get that, you didn’t seem to have it this morning when we talked…” Angela suspiciously tells, narrowing his eyes at you, a marvelous smirk appearing on his lips. 

“ Pretty sure I did it while brushing my hair, I had this knock I had a hard time to untangle “ You lie, nervosity making you lose your appetite “ I should go back to work, I have this problem with a chimp picture…see you later Angela…” 

Finishing to pack your lunch, leaving the cafeteria in a hurry, not sure of being able to lie more to your friend. you didn’t notice the strange look the Captain Ali and Dr Chang ,sat at the next table, exchange behind your back. 

The suspicion on F.Tony and you wasn’t new. Once a while, Angela, Chang and others had noticed some odd detail who could have raised eyebrows. But, without any proof, they preferred to shut their mouths.

Until the end of that day. 

You were looking at our feet, waiting for the general Naird to stop doing the hundred steps in front of his desk. Sat at your side, F. Tony still in his black multi pockets suit and hat, was trying to make an approach on the general. 

“ My General, is everything okay ? We’re here because we won and you want us to do some kick ass publication ?” He asked, giving you a side look, trying to silently calm you.

“ Not exactly F.Tony. I prefer to know why my press agent had killed one of my soldiers by mistake while reading a text message from his assistant. Text message suggesting that you did something wrong. I quote : ( They know . I told you they will discover us. )Let’s be clear here. I know that you clearly aren’t spies. But by what I heard, you disappear at the same time, have meetings behind lock doors and Dr. Mallory swore to see F. Tony coming back from one of these meetings with lips way too pink to be natural. “ He said, doing the little guillemet gesture with his fingers. “ Do you realize what your action could look like for an agent coming from outside of the base not knowing your expert in Bullshit and read that text ! “ 

“ I can explain” You start, not exactly sure of what you will say.

“ No, no need Y/N. I’m not stupid, i’m married. But for fuck sake, you’re both trying to send boots to he moon and you act like two spies in a military base. Your little secret adventure could have put you both in deep shit, you know that ! Did you realise that ?! They can ask me to fire you , for good this time F.Tony !”

Watching your eyes coming back to your feet, F.Tony lift his hand. 

“ General wait, i'm sorry we didn't tell you but it’s not a stupid little adventure. I just really love this girl okay !" The man confesses, taking your hand in his,making you bite your lips as your heart was beating faster “ I realise that we had made a mistake by doing all this a big secret and looking suspicious, but I take the blame. I felt for her from the days that she put a foot in my office with her big ideas and pretty eyes, the day that she show me that she was understand me ...and she worth way more than that but I try to be worthy of her every fucking day...so General Naird if you have to shout at somebody it’s at me,not her. But come on Mark...arem, General, you know that feeling...what the need to put a blame on that situation...“ 

“ It’s really honorable of you Fuck Tony.For the first part at least. I respect that “ Mark replied, an expression of surprise on his face you didn’t often see while he was speaking to your boyfriend. “ But from now on, for fuck sake, both of you, stop acting like horny teens in my base. Go, get out of my office.” 

Getting up off your chair, still shaken by the little speech of F.Tony, you follow him outside, stepping at the elevator as he was keeping the door open.  

“F... You mean it ? “ You ask, ignoring the flow of soldiers and officers who were pushing you to come in.

“ Of course I mean it, I could tweet it if you like... “

Smiling, you cupped his jaw in your hands, crashing your lips on his, kidnapping his mouth in a delicious kiss making him release the door. 

“ Y/N, we’re surrounded with people…” He whispers, smiling against your soft lips. 

“ Blame it on the fact that I love you too “ You smile, taking your place at his side, ignoring the obvious look of the military spacemen.

As his discret victorious "Yes" echoed in the elevator, you couldn't stop smiling. 

For the day on, you had tried to stay professional. Even if the news that you were in fact a couple had traveled in the base like a forest fire. But, once a while, mostly when F. Tony was following the General to D.C, it was still possible to catch you behind a locked door, having one of your lovely reunions.

—

PLEASE don’t forget to Like, Comment or Reblog !

—

Tag List : @caitlin-rose28 @skullchik89 @ruefulposts @ssanjuniperoo  @scruffiejelly   @festmenyes @dannydevitostrashbag @humanbeingiguess @qatiee @ waffletoast215 @ formedinaway @ shipsandart @ hugedwarflover @ peachylemasters @ diamond-doritos @imvibin69 @ benschwartzismyhusband @underthewillowtreerycb

[shochmonster]

84 Questions

original: https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs Guns of Brixton - The Clash Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys  Chainsaw - Nick Jonas California - Joni Mitchell Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stone Age This Woman’s Work - Kate Bush The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys Between the Bars - Eliot Smith Drown - The Smashing Pumpkins Different People - No Doubt

If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you? I’d take @duoloopo to the UK. I’d like to see places other than London.

What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen)  I use my iPad stylus the most, but I have this heavy mechanical pencil I really like for drawing. 

Favourite month and why? October. I just love the fall vibe. 

Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them. I went to undergraduate school with Rebecca Sugar. We used to ride the bus between NYC and DC together on holidays. 

Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are. Can of seltzer, pencil case, stack of bills

What brand logo is closest to you currently? REAL Skateboards

Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites? I love Small World and Munchkin. 

A musical artist you love that isn’t well known Laura Stevenson and the Cans

A musical artist you love that is well known Red Hot Chili Peppers

What is your desktop background currently? Thomas Barrow on the beach in the Season 4 Christmas Special

Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them @duomaxwell02 with my face :O 

First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow White

What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in? Two wall clocks, though one is very old and doesn’t wind anymore. I also have a clock @duoloopo ‘s dad made for me. It’s on the piano. 

What kind of headphones do you use? JBL Bluetooth, noise canceling 

What musical artists have you seen perform live? Foo Fighters (3x), Incubus (3x), Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Audioslave, Justin Timberlake, Troy Sivan, Arctic Monkeys, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Queen (but with Roger Daughtry, not Freddy... for obvious reasons.). Probably a whole bunch of others I’m blanking on. 

Does virginity matter to you? Not really. 

What gaming consoles do you or your family own? PS4, PS2, PS1, XBox 360, N64, Gamecube, Wii, NES, SNES, various Gameboys, Nintendo DS, PSP

What pets do you have? What are their names? Two cats, Hemingway and Renji

What’s the best job you’ve ever had? I like freelance art gigs the best. As for ‘normal people jobs’, I once was a sign painter for Whole Foods. That was pretty fun, minus the work drama. 

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Food service. 

What magazines do you read, if any? I’ll pick up Time once in a while

Inspiration behind your URL? My classic original URL was LinkWorshiper and had been since AIM first existed. I picked it because Zelda was the first fandom I ever joined. Now I’ve changed all my handles (except on AO3) to reflect my actual name, as my literary agent thinks it’s more professional. 

Inspiration behind your blog title? Mean Girls. I always chuckle imagining Thomas and Jimmy as some Edwardian version of the Plastics. 

Favourite item of clothing? My Downton livery waistcoat. And the stiff bosomed shirt and collars I have to go with it. 

Are you friends with any exes? Nah. By the time I felt comfortable enough to possibly try, I also didn’t care enough to. 

Name at least one book you loved as a child. His Dark Materials (the trilogy by Philip Pullman). I still love them and am jazzed that he’s writing more these days. 

What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English) US English, mostly a northeastern dialect/accent

What email service do you use? Gmail

Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in? So much stuff. I have a mood board full of Downtons stuff over my desk, various DA posters and memorabilia, plus some artwork I’ve done, and some of my JC Leyendecker collection. The aforementioned wall clocks, a San Francisco cable car bell, Sailor Moon and a few other little knickknacks, like my hamsa. To name a few lol. 

What’s your favourite number, and why? 212 because it’s Manhattan’s area code and also because it used to be the notation for one of my favorite ships in an old fandom. 

Earliest moment in your life you can remember? Sitting under the table and looking at my grandma, who was wearing a Cruella Deville dress she’d knit herself. Like, it had the actual Disney character on it. Pretty cool to a little guy, I guess!

What did you have for dinner yesterday? Quesadilla 

How often do you brush your teeth? Whenever they feel gross

What’s your favourite candy/chocolate? Lately, I’ve been into Junior Mints. 

Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently? This blog used to have my old handle, linkworshiper. I did a small Whole Foods blog when I worked with them, but it never went anywhere. 

If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat? Sushi

What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Downton Abbey, though lately I’ve been crazy busy and not as active as I once was. Casually still poking at old fandoms like Zelda and Gundam Wing to name a few. 

If you could study anything, what would it be? More art education can’t hurt. Maybe some formal history education. 

Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick) Chapstick 

How would you describe your sense of humour? Seinfeld 

What things annoy you more than anything else? Mouth noises

What kind of position are you in at the moment? Sitting

Do you wear much jewellery? Nope

Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc) Three supposedly equal branches of government, currently being run into the ground by a clown 

Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own @halcyondaze @mab1905 @lavender-hued-melancholy

What do you carry your money in? I try to never carry cash, but I carry a small wallet 

Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not? I like it but sometimes it feels like a chore, especially during a commute. @duoloopo thinks I’m a shit driver so she tries to drive whenever she can, which has pluses and minuses. 

Longest drive you have ever been on? Savannah GA to San Francisco, CA in a UHaul

Furthest away from home you have ever been? Germany 

How many times have you moved house? God, I don’t even know. More than ten. 

What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture? Cat toys, unused canvases

How many devices do you own which can access the internet? Phone, computer, iPad, various game consoles 

Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy? Thomas and Jimmy <3 <3 

Is there anything that always makes you sad? Thinking too hard about being a failure

What programs do you currently have open? I just rebooted, so only Chrome, Spotify and Photoshop

What do you associate the colour red with? This line in the Kate Bush Song Blue Symphony, which goes, ‘I associate love with red, the color of my heart when she’s dead.’ 

Last strong smell you can remember smelling? The Greek food I ordered in for dinner

Last healthy thing you ate? Roasted veggies

Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day? I prefer tea, and I drink coffee for energy, though sometimes I think it just makes me crash harder. 

What do you associate the colour blue with? The sky

How long is the closest ruler you can find? 12 inches

What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? Dark blue

When was the last time you drank water? About a minute ago

How often do you clear your browser history? Rarely

Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic? Yes

Ever written fanfiction for anything? Oh God, yes. You can still find it under Link Worshiper on AO3, though some of my ‘classics’ have been removed since I turned them into original manuscripts 

Last formal event you attended My cousin’s wedding

If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why? Maybe inch my birth year up just by two so that I’d stop being called a damn millennial. At my age, I really just don’t relate to the generation even though technicalities make me a part of it. 

Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside? Beach

Roughly how many people live in your town? 52,000

Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Leonard Nimoy :D 

Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores I haven’t really gone shopping since the pandemic. Right now, it feels like the only place to buy anything is Amazon XD

Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one? Samsung. It’s not a Galaxy but is a new model and a fraction of the price. 

What is your least favourite colour, and why? I don’t think I dislike any colors honestly. 

How do you spell grey/gray? Grey. I’ve got too many British online associates to ever go back. 

Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link) It’s Umbrella Academy fanart of Klaus. He’s in black and white with this hands over his eyes and the background is red. It’s very graphic. 

What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow? 736

How many posts do you have? 8,859

How many posts have you liked? I can’t find the stat D: 

Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content? Mainly reblogs but I pepper in my own content when I can. Lately, I haven’t had time to do as much fanart though, and I kind of feel like it’s not worth bothering to post my original stuff. Nobody follows my blog for that. 

Do you track any tags? No. 

What time is it currently? 7:33 PM CMT

Is there anything you should be doing right now? Waking up @duoloopo. TIME TO JUMP ON THE BED. 

tagging, if they feel like it: @abbys-little-whippersnapper​ @bumblebarrow​ @irrationalgame​ @downtoncat​ @mab1905​ @duoloopo​

and everyone who I’ve forgotten

[ettawritesnstudies]

Etta’s big creative to do list for when I’m not drowning in final exams

(the rest are below the cut because this got LONG! I am putting this here so you have some idea of the stuff I’ll be posting about come Monday 5/11 and also so I can find it again instead of putting it in my notebook where it will inevitably get lost among my fluids practice and history essay jottings. if you’re curious about the fact that I am not yet done with my semester, yes, I am absolutely procrastinating an essay right now by writing this. don’t worry about it.)

FINISH STORGE!! I’m only like 3 chapters away from writing The End and I desperately want to do that this year so I can edit and start sharing snippets with alpha readers by this time next year at the latest :D

Outline the Laoche Chronicles

this includes the trilogy outline in broad strokes to make sure everything sets up the next points

a detailed outline for the first book which will need a name eventually

(my outlining process can be found here!)

Character profiles for all the new OCs

(this process can be found in this post!

worldbuilding write-up questionnaire for the new civilizations that’ll feature in the main trilogy and differ from Storge

Learn how to make edits for tumblr because graphic design and anything resembling Proper Authors Platform Branding continue to elude me

This won’t happen this month, but I need to do a cleanout of the social media’s I do have so I can put writing stuff there too and start a proper Author’s Internet Presence. If I do finish Storge this year, I’ll be looking for beta readers eventually and I need to have something to show for myself. This includes...

doing a mass edit of this blog and organizing my tags

teaching myself HTML/CSS and making a custom blog theme that works for my needs or commissioning someone to do this for me

making a Laoche Chronicles wip page

buying a domain and designing an actual authors website

making an #aesthetictrash book Instagram? I’m vaguely aware this is something people do but I only use insta for it’s chat feature with my college friends so I know not the first thing about how that works

I have a disasterous Pinterest that’s 100% private boards for my various bits of nonsense that needs to be turned into a place to showcase WIP aesthetics

I refuse to touch twitter nor facebook nor snapchat nor ticktock with a fifteen foot pole

if you couldn’t tell by now, I was that kid who had a brick trac-phone until 10th grade, and used my smartphone primarily as a music device until very recently

Write a considerable backlog for my Newsies fanfic so I don’t fall behind whenever I go to my internship in a month

Finish the intro for my Vampire Plague Doctor Buddy Cop story and the Chaotic SFF Academia idea that I started last month, and write a few one shots for those Maybe start posting them somewhere if I’m happy with how they turn out?

Make a proper quilt from the 10389238320923 old event t-shirts I have sitting in a pile in the basement so I can take it to college with me in the fall. (also maybe mockup a walking skirt out of an old sheet, so I at least have an idea of what to do whenever proper fabric stores open again)

It’s going to be below freezing tomorrow for SOME REASON despite being MID- MAY, but I need to plant my garden and make a compost pile at some point

Make a list of art skills to start practicing so I can tackle the concept of “learning to draw” in a logical manner like you would in a class, and start doing these drills

Also participate in the rest of MerMay

Read a few books! My current next list of TBR looks like this

Illthdar! I have been dying to get my hands on @illthdar‘s book but I didn’t want to start it during the school year and then have to inevitably put it down like two chapters in because I had boring real life obligations to attend to, so this is my first read for as soon as I’m done with the semester on Sunday.

Pride and Prejudice, which I've heard is excellent and regrettably not actually read yet (nor any of Austen, yes I’m a heretic I know, but I’m also an engineering student and 90% of my time is spent doing maths)

Storm of Fire and Blood - I have had this book for a year and put it down because of school which is a crying shame because I really love this series! For any religious/historical fiction fans I highly recommend the Sword and Serpent trilogy! It’s a retelling of the story of St. George and the Dragon long before he’s ever a saint. I think anyone could enjoy it, but if you’re Catholic or enjoy early Christian history, you’ll get a lot of the references and saint cameos and it’s just! A lot of fun!!

also my patron St. Katherine of Alexandria is a major character in the 2nd and 3rd books and she’s absolutely wonderful so I might be just a little bit biased

Make a few watercolor maps of the world of Laoche! Including detailed maps of the city of Maaren where Storge takes place, and Arga (one of the countries in the later trilogy)

update my bullet journal which has been languishing unused on my dresser since march when I moved home from college 

Carve new dulcimer hammers and teach myself a few songs. (also maybe try to make a longbow or new bridges for the dulcimer but that’s all probably a BIT of a stretch)

Brush up on my piano and guitar practice because I am very very rusty. I need to find some new songs to learn because I don’t really want to relearn Debussy or Chopin again, but I need to find some good ones first...

If you’re still reading this. Wow. Congratulations. That was a lot. and thank you! But yeah! This is what’s been knocking around in my head recently while I was supposed to be studying, but now that it is out of my head and into a post hopefully I will be able to focus again :P This is extremely ambitious and I 100000% will not be able to finish everything on this list, but! it is a plan! Wish me luck!

[too-attached-to-fiction]

Finding Family

Summary:            

Logan really wants kids and Virgil doesn't know how to say no to his husband.

Plus, it doesn't help that the kids Thomas befriends need their support.

Notes:    

we made another found family au because I can't get enough of it and Clam indulges me.

Updates will probably be inconsistent because we want to make each part longer, so bookmark/ask to be tagged on Tumblr!

I need fan art of this too if anyone wants to do that.....

Welcome back, readers!

Nox

READ ON AO3

~~~

Logan Sanders enjoyed getting up early.

There was something about the way the dew settled on the windows and plants, the slow sunrise. The world was quiet, and even though Earth spun 1,000 miles an hour, things seemed to stand still.

He wasn’t always an early riser, but he liked being up during hours that no one else was. On the few days he slept in, he only felt more tired. In his opinion, Logan had better things to do than sleep.

Besides, the mornings were for appreciating simple things.

Logan glanced down at his side, where his husband, Virgil, snored quietly. The purple streaks he’d had in his hair during their early grad-school years had long faded, although the morning sun showed where it used to be. Logan gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead before getting ready for the rest of the day.

Virgil was the complete opposite of Logan, in a good way. He preferred late nights and midnight snacks the same way Logan preferred early sunrises and bitter coffee. Maybe it made sense, considering Logan’s teaching career. He needed to be up early anyways.

The kindergarteners Logan was currently teaching required a lot of energy. And while his sleep schedule was nothing short of exact, he always needed some sort of caffeine to make sure he didn’t drift off during class.

His eyes landed on his computer the minute he had his coffee mug in hand. Even though he spent his work days surrounded by kids, it wasn’t the same as parenting. He and Virgil had been discussing it since they got married, but it seemed that they would never have the right timing. Their careers were barely getting started, and there was no way they could ignore their stack of student loans that threatened to swallow them in debt. Still…

Logan had time. According to the clock on the oven, it was only seven. He didn’t need to be at the elementary school until eight-thirty. Maybe if he just looked into it, did his research, they could adopt.

Maybe.

~~~

“What’s this?” Virgil asked that evening, rifling through a stack of brochures Logan had left on the table. “Foster-to-adopt… Logan?” He glanced over at his husband, who was trying to feign innocence. “Do you want to tell me what’s with these flyers?”

“I just thought we could look into it.” He tried to be as nonchalant as he could, eyes flickering back and forth between Virgil and his laptop. “Nothing set in stone.”

“Lo, we’re not even financially stable enough to buy a second car, much less adopt. A kid is a life-long investment, and we both know how harsh the system is for those kids.” For a brief while in university, Virgil had debated on becoming a social worker. But that kind of work was rough on all sides, and the results were heavily varied. “And even if we fostered, they could easily take the kid away from us at any point, given the parents are still alive. Would you want to deal with that kind of heartbreak?”

“I thought you wanted kids too.” Logan frowned, not wanting to acknowledge Virgil’s points.

“I do, but I don’t know… I don’t want you to get your heartbroken if it doesn’t work out.”

“We’ll be helping them. You’re a lawyer because you want to help everyone and because you hated the idea of working in a hospital. Why not help these kids?”

Virgil looked at Logan. “The point of foster care is to be temporary guardians while their birth parents fix whatever issues they have. It’s selfless and sometimes, you get nothing in return. Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” The two stared at each other for a minute, silently waiting for the other to back down. When it was clear that wasn’t the case, Virgil sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“You’re doing all the research.” He mumbled, kissing Logan on the cheek before walking off to start dinner. “And scheduling the classes.”

“Mhm.”

Once Virgil was convinced, Logan made quick work to find the right organizations. He contacted the state’s adoption resource exchange organization and was guided to parenting classes. Any waking hour not spent teaching was spent studying for the classes and making sure the house was fit for kids.

The house the couple currently lived in was larger than most would expect from recent grad students, with six bedrooms and two studies. This had been the house Virgil had grown up in, and recently inherited. While he was generally estranged from his parents towards the ends of their lives, neither of them wanted to sell the house. Virgil, to his credit, couldn’t let go of the property either. Logan hadn’t bothered to press, but he knew that despite the bad relationship between Virgil and his parents, this was all he had left of them.

All in all, space wasn’t a problem.

The problem with what Virgil liked to refer to as “the McMansion” was that a lot of the rooms had been unused for years. Dust covered practically any space that Virgil and Logan didn’t use on a daily basis. When Logan was alone, he could practically feel the emptiness around him.

It took a month to fix up the other rooms. All of them were livable spaces, just dusty and old. Virgil took the liberty of throwing out things, always rolling his eyes at the space. “It was just the three of us, I don’t understand why they didn’t get a smaller house. Our neighbors must think we’re an old rich couple about to kick the bucket.” He grumbled one day, making Logan chuckle.

“Regardless, it’s a nice space to grow up in. It’ll be nice to have children running around.”

“Children? Plural?” Virgil nearly sputtered, and Logan laughed again. “I don’t care what you think, we’re starting with one. God, can you imagine the young het-couples who have to deal with three babies all at once?”

“Triplets.” Logan clarified, trying to hide another laugh. “They manage.”

“No wonder the world’s a mess.”

This time, Logan didn’t bother hiding his laughter.

~~~

The day they got Thomas, it was raining. Virgil was fretting over the details last minute as they waited for Adri, their social worker, to come by with Thomas.

“He’s, like, three? Right? What do three year olds like? Video games? TV?” Virgil paced back and forth in the living room. Logan, who had had enough of Virgil’s panicking, stood in front of his husband, clasping Virgil’s shaking hands in his.

“The toys are all in his room, and we agreed he’s not getting anywhere near a screen until he’s five.” Logan reminded Virgil calmly. “I’m making dinner today, and tomorrow isn’t a school day, so we don’t need to worry about transportation yet. But the car seat is already strapped in the car and I double-checked to make sure it’s secure.”

“But what if he has allergies or doesn’t like us or-”

Logan looked at his husband with a smile. “We’ve made it this far. We can’t give up now.” Before he could say anything else, the doorbell rang.

Logan was the first to reach the door, leaving a nervous Virgil behind him as he opened it. “Hi, Adri.”

Thomas seemed small for his age, but he definitely checked off the boxes in everything Logan and Virgil had wanted in a kid. His big, brown eyes stared up at Logan.

The teacher bent down to Thomas’s height with a smile. “Hi, Thomas. I’m Logan. You can call me Dad, if you want.”

Thomas shuffled behind Adri, although his eyes still peeked out at Logan. The older man stood back up. “Why don’t you come in?” He offered, stepping out of the way so the two could walk inside.

“Hi!” Virgil was a bundle of nerves, trying to avoid sweaty hands and hyperventilating. “Can we get either of you anything to eat or drink? We have orange juice and water and coffee and milk and we can probably make chocolate milk-”

“That’s alright.” Adri said, shooting him a warm smile. “I was hoping one of you could play with Thomas while we discuss some final notes?”

“I’ll do it. I think legal matters are more of Virgil’s thing anyways.” Logan said. “Thomas, do you want to see your new room?” The little boy nodded eagerly, carefully walking to Logan.

“Now I want you to remember that we’re trying to make this permanent, but the process could take up to thirty months.” Adri reminded Virgil. “You guys are looking good so far, and I don’t doubt you’ll be good parents. I brought a list of things that the agency has you follow, but truthfully, I think you’ll be okay.”

Virgil nodded, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. This was really happening. They had a child in their care now.

Upstairs, Logan sat on the floor of Thomas’s room as the boy explored. He quickly figured out what his favorite stuffed animal was (a stuffed brown dog) and towed it around in a cradle-hold as he looked at the other toys. Unlike most kids, Thomas seemed to brush off all of the toys until he got to the dress-up chest. He opened it as if he was opening a treasure chest.

“Careful with the top, buddy.” Logan said, his kindergarten teacher coming out as he crawled across the room and held the top of the chest up so Thomas could look through the clothes.

Thomas pulled out a fireman’s jacket and hat. Carefully, he set them on the ground and put the jacket on. The sleeves covered his hands but it didn’t matter. Logan closed the chest and put the hat on Thomas’s head.

“Are we firefighters today?” Logan asked, and Thomas grinned.

“Fighting fire!” He pumped his fist in the air, and Logan smiled.

“I don’t think there are any fires here, but why don’t we go look at the other rooms and check?” Logan led Thomas out of the room. They proceeded to check every room, closet, and window in the house, and by the time they made it to the kitchen, Adri and Virgil were finished talking.

“Do you want to stay here, Thomas?” Adri asked, kneeling down to the little boy’s height. The three adults smiled as he nodded with a shy smile.

“They’re going to take care of you, okay? That means you have to be good for them, too. Got it, firefighter Thomas?” They raised the rim of the plastic hat, only for him to nod again and have it fall back down.

“I’ll visit in one week for an inspection, but everything seems okay at the moment. Call me if you have any questions.” Adri said as they walked them to the door. “Alright, see you soon!” She waved as Virgil shut the door.

“Hey, Thomas. I’m Virgil, but you can call me Dad.” The boy looked up at the two men, confused.

“But I thought he was Dad.” Thomas pointed at Logan.

“You can call us Virgil and Logan, or you can call me Papa and you can call Virgil Dad.” Logan said with a smile. “Whatever you want is okay with us. We’re gonna eat dinner and then it’s bath and bedtime, alright? Can we pick you up?”

“Yeah. Why do you have to ask that?”

Virgil picked him up. “Well, you see, there’s something very important called consent…”

~~~

Sunday flew by and Monday arrived, with Thomas’s first day of preschool bright and early. Thomas happily ate a breakfast of cereal in his firefighter’s jacket while this time, it was Logan panicking.

“Logan, you work next to his preschool.” Virgil reminded his husband, sipping watered down, sugary coffee as he watched Logan zoom around the kitchen. “And anyways, he doesn’t need to bring anything to preschool besides a lunch and a toy. We’ll drop him off together before your school starts.”

Virgil was the one to help Thomas into his shoes as Logan packed everyone’s lunches. He made sure to write a note for each before grabbing his bag and Virgil’s briefcase.

“Are you excited for your first day of school, buddy?” Virgil asked as he attached the velcro that adorned Thomas’s shoes together. “You get to go to preschool and make friends.”

“But what about you and Papa?” Thomas asked, and Virgil felt his heart melt at the words.

“Papa and I have work to go to. Kids go to school and adults go to work.” Virgil explained simply. “You’re all set. Are you sure you want to bring the firefighter jacket with you?”

Thomas nodded eagerly and Virgil chuckled.

“L, we gotta go!” He called out, scooping Thomas up in his arms. “Don’t want Thomas to be late for his first day of school!”

“Have you seen my lesson plans?”

“Sweetheart, they’re in your bag already. We’ll wait in the car!” Virgil yelled back, walking out to Logan’s SUV with Thomas. Logan had insisted they would need a big car, but now Virgil understood why. A big car and a big house meant more room for kids. Internally, he smacked himself on the forehead.

“Why is Papa running around?” Thomas asked as Virgil adjusted him on his hip for better access to the car keys. He unlocked the doors and opened one in the back so he could put the little boy in his car seat.

“Papa’s nervous about your first day of school.” Virgil replied, putting Thomas into the car seat and fumbling a little with the straps and seat belt.

“But why?”

“Well, he doesn’t want to leave you alone, but he’s only right next door to your school. And in a few years, he’ll be in the next classroom from you.” Virgil explained simply, finally buckling everything together and relaxing his shoulders. “He’s worried because he loves you.”

“Why aren’t you worried?” Virgil chuckled at the question.

“Because I love you just as much, and I think you’re a brave little firefighter who’s going to make a lot of friends.” Virgil smiled.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the preschool. Virgil pulled into the parking lot and parked faster and more accurately than Logan had ever seen Virgil do. Virgil was the one who unbuckled Thomas’s seatbelt and helped him to the ground.

Logan grabbed his backpack and lunch and followed the two, watching as Virgil leaned one of his arms down so that Thomas could take Virgil’s hand in his.

Once they reached the main classroom, Logan caught up to them. The teacher, one of Logan’s coworkers, smiled warmly at them.

“Hi, Val.” He said awkwardly, but her attention was already on Thomas.

“You must be Thomas.” She said, kneeling down. “We’re gonna have a fun day today. But first, do you want to say goodbye to your dads?”

“Do I have to say goodbye forever?” Thomas asked, eyes wide and ready to overflow.

“No, they’ll be here to pick you up in a little while when they finish their work.” Valerie assured him, then looked at Logan pointedly. “In fact, I’m sure you’ll see your Papa a lot when you’re on the playground.”

“Okay. Goodbye, Dad and Papa.” The two husbands knelt down to give their goodbye hugs and kisses before Thomas walked into the classroom.

Valerie placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Hey, I know it’s hard for parents to let go when their kid starts school, but-”

“Stay out of the way.” Logan finished in a huff. He witnessed it at the beginning of every school year with the kindergartners. Some kicked and screamed; most of the time, the ones doing so were the mothers.

“He’ll be okay. I’ll look out for him.” Valerie dropped her hand to her side and gave them both a comforting smile. “I’ll see you guys at three for pick up.” She promised.

Logan took one last look over his shoulder to see Thomas excitedly talking to a pair of boys in the classroom.

He’d be alright.

~~~

Taglist:

@plinamiismyotp @elementalshadowwitch @idkanameatall @zaisling @sunshineandspecs @bucketsofclams

[butterpond]

Hi lovely, I was looking at your current map vs your map plan and I noticed your nooks cranny is no longer above the able sisters. How are you planning that section on looking? Also do you have any tips on landscaping I restarted a week ago and just unlocked it, I’m finding it super overwhelming to have my entire island untouched. Ty ❤️❤️

Hiya! Yeah so I am moving my nooks down off that piece of land and changing it, solely for the reason that I had planned too many inclines so I am going to sacrificing the two level shop area for an incline to be used somewhere else lmao

So, now I am planning it to look like a little cove and the higher bit of land will act like a divider between the shopping area and the area behind it. I’m only going to have trees flowers and weeds on the higher land. So where the nooks cranny will be it will be tucked under that higher bit of land, I’ll probably decorate around nooks with trees and stuff to make it seem tight and cozy! I have a video of a little bit of my island posted and I pass the able sisters so you can see how it is placed up on the cliff right now, it will essentially still be in the same place but just on the ground level and the cliff will be behind it! If you search the Butterpond tag on my blog you should find the vid

As for terraforming, for Butterpond I used procreate to sketch out a plan, and I stuck quite heavily to how my island originally was at the start and only added a few extra land bits (though I changed the river quite a lot to be more curvy). But my biggest tip would be not to look at the whole island! Only little sections! For my first island (Luana) I didn’t make any kind of plan, and I focused on a tiny bit at a time and worked things out over months and months of little changes. But that’s how I start doing any kind of work whether it’s art or an essay or animal crossing haha, I just start with one little thing then the next bits don’t seem as huge and overwhelming. Think of an area you would like to start on and play around, my favourite thing to do is add cliffs to create dimension even if they are un unusable, and you can create them to divide two places if everything feels too open! I normally just get the cliff tool and make a shape and see how I like it. For the water I like to keep things semi natural so I have pretty much only used the main river to try and flow through my island in a cool shape lmao. But yeah my biggest tip is to start with a small area and build from there, once you are happy with one small bit you can focus on the adjoining piece of land or another small section on the other side of the island. I find even when decorating if I don’t know what to do I’ll think okay I will just decorate this tiny four square area with like a stool and a flower or something like that, and once i have done that small area my ideas start flowing for the surrounding area!

I hope this helps! Sorry if I’m trash at explaining haha. Once I have finished my nooks area I’ll probably post a pic here so you can see it, but if you want you can also come see my island for any inspo!

Good luck terraforming! 💚🌱

[kaywriteswords]

The Art of Purging...

There is something liberating about discarding old possessions. A freeing of space within our space and in our minds. I might not have believed it, if it hadn’t worked for me.

My hoarding was bred into me by a family who seems to never throw anything out. The most glaring realizations came when we had to sort through those things left behind by family members who had passed on. The aunt who died with drawers full of brand new items, but who needed frequent runs to the store for this or that. The grandma with several closets full of clothes, but who seemed to only ever have on the same 5 shirts. Then there is a room in a basement with two generations worth of random items from people who haven’t walked this earth in over 20 years and which sits, untouched.

Gramma passed in 2017 and one of the last things she wanted to do together was start pulling out boxes of her stuff to go through. The tiara from her first communion was in one of those boxes. She was 79. Guess where most of it, including that tiara, ended up… donated or in the trash. It was her stuff, she could do whatever she wanted with it. Some items were so old it rendered them useless and others had a sentimental value long since forgotten. Finally accepting the fact that she was dying (cancer is a b*tch!) and not being able to take anything with her, it ended up where it probably should have 50+ years ago. However, those of us who would survive her did keep several sentimental items because there is value in the memories some objects hold.

After almost 30 years of accumulating things and discarding the bare minimum, the amount of stuff I had started to overwhelm me. Faced with the prospect of trashing all my earthly possessions while on my deathbed one day, I decided to part with some of that stuff sooner rather than later. Not only does my home feel more open and organized, I feel a opening of space within myself to focus on what’s actually important to me. Here’s how I did it.

 The first and simplest step to begin purging is to have a designated donation bag or box. Something you keep readily available, but also out of sight so as not to create undue stress about adding to it. This should be a liberating experience. Place things into the bag and when the bag is full, donate it. If the thought of parting with some of your possessions in such a way is giving you anxiety from just thinking about it, know that you can also go back through these donation items from time to time. If there’s something that you REALLY REALLY want, pull it back out, put it away. No harm in keeping things you feel like you can still use, but in my experience those things end up right back in that donation bag. There was a reason you put it there in the first place. It can be a vicious cycle of self-doubt and wanting to move on. Each time you fill a bag or box, start a new one.

Deciding what should be purged can be tough. I started with items that had been sitting unused for  years. This can be anything for anybody depending on your lifestyle and hobbies. For me, it was accumulated kitchen items rarely or never used, supplies for projects waiting to be done and clothes, so many clothes. A few questions to ask yourself when looking at these items:

Have I ever used this?

When is the last time I used this?

Will I ever use this?

Honesty with yourself is a key component to this decision making process. Whatever you decide to keep will be allowed a space in your home. Decide if each item is worthy of that space. Some items came with a heavy price tag so you may prefer to sell them. Yards sales, garage sales or the internet are good places for that. If you do opt to try to sell, just make sure to set a deadline for yourself to get rid of it anyway. Otherwise, you’ll end up with things you’ve already decided you don’t need cluttering your life.

Deciding which clothes to keep, donate or toss was the most time consuming for me, especially when I had to try something on to make sure I really didn’t want it anymore. There are probably clothes in your closet that you do not wear, I had plenty. Maybe they’ve even made it out of the closet quite a few times for a potential outfit only to be tossed aside and left unworn. A shirt that hugs your arms to tightly or rides a bit higher on your torso than you’d like. A dress in an unflattering cut. Something that fits your body, but doesn’t fit your style. Put the item on, look at it in the mirror, tell yourself what you don’t like about it. Just because you wanted this piece of clothing at some point doesn’t mean you have to keep it now. When we evolve, our bodies and styles change too. If you can’t remember why you bought it in the first place then toss it in the donation bag. If you can’t find anything wrong with it, then and only then should it be granted space in your closet or drawers.

For bulkier items like kitchen appliances and tools, items that take up a lot of space but don’t get much use, weigh the value of having that item against the amount of space you give it. I liked my sewing machine. The idea of altering & repairing my own clothes seemed fun, practical even, thinking of the magic I could make with too large thrift store finds. After some practice, I was certain I was well on my way to becoming a thrifting, altering goddess. With clothes ready and the sewing machine still placed prominently in the middle of my workspace, it was only a matter of time. I altered one romper. One! Then the sewing machine sat there for months collecting dust. After spending a few more months moving it from here to there and there to here, it was relegated to the closet, where it sat untouched. I had to confront myself, Am I ever really going to alter clothes or was it just a nice idea?

The beauty of this life is that we don’t have to be just one thing. We can be anything we want and we can decide to change any time we want. I thought I wanted to be a seamstress, just like I thought I wanted to be a painter or sketch artist, a dog bone peddler. All things I flirted with, distractions from the calling I always felt for writing. Confront yourself. Dig deep. Here’s where that brutal honesty with yourself comes into play. If it doesn’t serve the ideal vision you see for yourself, get rid of it. Create the space you need to pursue that vision.

The painting supplies went first, then the sketchbook, then the dog treat molds and finally the sewing machine. They all went at different times over the course of 2 & a half years. That sounds like a ridiculous amount of time, I know, but getting rid of things is hard and we can only part with them when we are ready. Purging can be a long process depending on how much stuff you have and how long you’ve had it. The longer we’ve held on to something, the harder we can find it to let that something go. Whether it’s because we are holding on to an old piece of ourselves or someone we love or because we aren’t yet ready to change, that thing feels like it is a piece of us.

The painting supplies went to a mother who crafts with her daughters. The sewing machine to an old family friend who will put it to use. The other stuff was donated. Letting go of those things, I felt an unburdening. Those items were no longer distractions because they no longer existed for me. Plus, it felt good knowing that some of it was being appreciated by someone else.

You’ll have to go through everything and I mean EVERYTHING. Storage areas will probably be what takes the longest because this is where hidden memories lie and anything you wanted out of sight, but not out of reach. If you don’t have one cabinet or storage bin with knick-knacks, memorabilia, mementos, etc., then I applaud you, I truly do. But this isn’t the case for most people.

Take a look at what you are storing for future use. Don’t just look at a tote or cabinet as a whole, assuming you know what’s inside and leave it as is. Open all of them. Look at each item. Ask yourself:

What am I saving this for?

What occasion, life circumstance, event?

Is this something that will last over time or will too much time render it useless?

I have a lot of holiday decorations so having space to store all of these is necessary. Stacks on stacks on stacks of old newspapers and magazines, not so much. Keep the things you actually use.

Make your ideal life circumstance more immediate. Think about the reason you are saving a particular item. What do you envision as it’s ideal use? Has the time since passed that an item like that was relevant to your life? I had a black dress, classic girl’s night out LBD, and I was saving that bad boy for the perfect night. After a few years of waiting for that perfect night, I had gained some weight and the dress no longer fit. I kept it as a talisman to my old body and vowed that I would get in that dress one day. For years, I kept that dress hanging where I would see it daily, but that day never came. Even when I got back down to a healthy weight, my body had changed so significantly I was never able to wear it. It was donated with the price tag still on.

It is important to evaluate how much longer something can sit untouched before it’s useless from old age or is no longer relevant to you. Every day is a great to use your best stuff. Celebrate yourself. Try to think back to why you wanted this item in the first place. Have you changed in a way that makes an item useless to you?

Purging isn’t something that you can accomplish in one night or even one week. You’ll likely have to go through this process a few times. There may be some things you need to hold on to now, but in 3 or 6 months, after having saved it from the discard pile originally you might finally accept that the item is not for you. THIS IS OKAY! It is okay to get rid of things and you should. Change is good. Feel the burden lift, feel your space expand. After a lifetime of holding on to things so tightly, I was drowning in possessions that had no longer served a purpose for me. A person can only keep so much stuff. At some point you have to just let it go and trust me, it feels great!

Drop your purged items off periodically, then give yourself a pat on the back. You can even feel good about donating something that somebody else will be able to put to use. While donating is better than just throwing things in the trash, there are some things really do need to go into the trash. Face it, you’re probably not using it/wearing it because it’s raggedy AF. Nobody else wants your junk either. Look at that raggedy, broken, used up item and know it has lived its best life. Thank it, say good bye and drop it in the trash.

 I know how hard it is to part with our beloved treasures. When I moved from the one bedroom I occupied in my parents’ house into my own two bedroom apartment, it was like my stuff exploded to fill the space. I still don’t know where I had been keeping it all before. Instead of purging during that move, I found a way to keep it all. For almost 10 years I moved all that stuff around and reorganized it, trying to continue to fit it into my space along with 10 more years’ worth of newly acquired items. It was disorder so apparent that it seemed to be organized. I knew it was time to do something about it when I helped Gramma get rid of things she’d been holding on to for half a century or longer.

It’s in the nature of humans to always want more, like the number of possessions we have somehow defines us. With all that I’ve accomplished in the short time since I’ve finished purging, I try not to be upset with myself for not doing it sooner. With the extra space in my home, I was able to reorganize my kitchen storage, create a functional workspace and give my plants room to flourish. The energy changed because the space had changed. Even though it was the same apartment, it felt brand new. That’s what I needed. What you need is probably different, we’re all unique in our own ways. Figure out what you need and envision your ideal space. Once you have that first encounter with the bliss of eliminating what no longer serves your goals, I promise you’ll like it.

[moonbeammuses-a]

Mobile About

Yeah, there’s a decent bit here, but this is info to help YOU know what to expect from ME. Please, take the time, just once, to read over this. I’m a bit wordy for the sake of clarity and leaving as few unanswered questions as possible.

My Rules and About may seem strict, but I am honestly very chill and happy to chat.

► Mun is of age, so are nearly all Muses. I am 26, and nearly all of my humanoid muses are of age, though I DO have child-verses for several of them. I specify humanoid because I will not ship or smut animal or creature muses that are not capable of giving proper informed consent.

►NO MINORS. I WILL NOT WRITE WITH ANY MUN UNDER 18. PERIOD.

►RP stats

I go by either Kitty or Moon on tumblr, though I prefer Kitty. 

You'll probably never find out my IRL name.

I have a Discord but it is for mutuals only. Please IM me for it

I have been RPing for over a decade in various forms

►I am Selective- I only RP with Mutuals(I say selective, but I follow people back left and right so please don’t be intimidated)

-I am selective for my own sanity, as I am a fairly nervous and generally private person. I have to FEEL the ship/story/roleplay in general to be able to write it well. If I cannot write something well I don’t want to write it at all.

►I am Multi-verse and Multi-ship. Nobody is cheating on anyone. I will “connect” verses(threads) with each other if its discussed and WANTED by the other Mun, but this is rare and I have to be comfortable with the Mun to do so.

►Speed may Vary - If I am really feeling a thread, I might reply in MINUTES

But I may also take days, sometimes several weeks to reply to a thread. It depends on interest, muse, availability, and general life things.

It is not impossible that a reply can take over a month, or that I can lose interest in a thread because I've been unable to write a reply for so long. If this happens, I will tell you, and I will likely feel like shit as I apologize profusely. But I can't force something that isn't there.

I spend more time writing than most any other hobby, but RP is, and will always be, just that. A HOBBY. If you are expecting me to consider myself obligated to you in any way, don't follow me.

►VERY IMPORTANT: 

Regardless of what is going on in my life, @theirvoices is my IRL best friend and I will ALWAYS prioritize replies with them. I may be entirely inactive at times with all other mutuals, but writing with them. PLEASE do not take this personally. I could be sitting in my closet having an anxiety attack and writing with my best friend to take my mind off of it. PLEASE do not make assumptions that I am ignoring you. They are my RP wife and my best friend and will ALWAYS be a priority, even when my activity on other threads is very slow. If that is a problem, I recommend not following me.

►I Drop Ask-Threads- If a thread was started with an ask, I WILL eventually drop it, likely with no warning, unless we plot out and make a defined storyline for it. This is because I recieve new asks and sentence memes EVERY. DAY. and it is beyond unrealistic to keep all of them.

If you want to KEEP an ask-thread, tell me.

►Following

-I will not follow you if you do not have at least semi-detailed Rules, About, and Bio pages. I also will expect to be able to find examples of your writing on your page without scrolling for ten minutes. -I need to know that our writing and posting styles will mesh. -I need to be comfortable writing with you. -I need to know that you are of age. -I need to know enough about your character to write with them. -I need to know that your expectations of other muses mesh with what I do/don't do.

-If I am following you, it is because I feel your muse(s) and mine may have some chemistry or potential for a story.

-IF I AM NOT FOLLOWING YOU, IT MAY BE BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW THE MUSE YOU PLAY (example: I am not even remotely up to speed on any of the CW shows like the Flash, and have yet to see the Kingsman movies)

-PLEASE don't take it personally if I am not following back. There may be a multitude of reasons. For example, it can take me a long time to read over your blog properly. I don't follow without extensively checking out a person's blog.

-Additionally, IF I CANNOT READ YOUR BLOG I WILL NOT FOLLOW YOU. I have bad eyesight, and if you use tiny ass font or similar colors so that I can't read your blog even after zooming in until your theme is unusable, I will NOT follow you.

►Unfollowing- I will unfollow/not follow you if:

-If you do not tag your posts, I will unfollow you. I will not apologize. 

-You send hate to people. Constructive criticism is one thing, but being a dick is unnecessary and I wont even say anything about this, I'll simply block you.

-You ignore my rules. Depending on the rule, I may warn you, I may simply unfollow, or I may block you. Respect people's rules. We are all here to write and enjoy ourselves, and respecting each other is an important part of that.

-You pressure me. An occasional nudge is fine but if you pressure me to reply i will drop the thread and unfollow. I've got enough IRL anxiety, I’m not here for more.

- You don't cut your posts. Seriously, there are several options, for desktop or mobile. I don't want to scroll for ten years to get to the next post. I'm not a major stickler for this, but be reasonable with your post length

► When I unfollow you for breaking my rules, I will:

Immediately drop all threads/delete all drafts and asks between us.

-Softblock you, so that you unfollow ME as well. This is to help ensure you do not presume we are still writing partners.

-Ignore any correspondence you attempt, including Asks, IMs, comments on my posts, etc. Excepting certain circumstances. 

-If you repeatedly try to interact with me despite this, I will block you on all known blogs.

►Tagging

Personal posts are also tagged: #Kitty whines, OR #Kitty rambles

Smut/nudity/sexual imagery is tagged as #{{ NSFW }} OR just #nsfw . I try to use both.

if sexual acts are insinuated but not SHOWN, I use the tag #{{ nsfw-ish }}

-I sometimes forget to tag. Please remind me if you like, but be aware that this blog IS NSFW-THEMED and NSFW things, including smut, gore, character death, violence, torture, and a variety of other things will occur.

That’s not to say I won’t respect your triggers, because I will, I simply need to know if you need something tagged.

In general, NSFW smut, Death, Rape, and Torture are always tagged. Beyond that, I dont tag blood or gore or injuries, because they are rampant in my threads. Please use your own discretion to decide if this is a blog you should be following, because I DO NOT want you to be uncomfortable or threatened by myself or my content, but I also will not change how I RP.

-potentially triggering content will be tagged: {{ tw: tag }} example: {{ tw: non-con }}, {{ tw: Torture }}, etc.

►Icons

I am 100% okay with icon-less RP. You do NOT have to have icons or special formatting to RP with me ♥

- I use GIFs and Icons in MOST of my replies. Usually sized 100 pixels, I do occasionally go up to 150 pixels for gif icons. I have bad eyesight, and therefore need GIFs I use to be at least 150. If this bothers you, I can refrain from using GIFs in my RP with you. Please let me know.

-I RARELY, and ONLY with certain people will use larger GIFs or stills for specific scenes. I won’t do this without asking, but it does occur on my blog.

-I generally edit all of my own GIFs, unless otherwise stated in tags or a character's bio. If you want to use an image I edited, PLEASE check with me, and if you find that I have improperly credited/forgotten to credit someone please let me know.

Icon Credit

Almost all still 100x100 icons images that do NOT have a PSD come from the Hollow Artists, either at the Hollow Art website, or on their tumblr page, thehollowedartists.tumblr.com

My icon PSD with the crescent moon in the corner was made by @phasiiingxshadow, as was my Harley Quinn PSD.

200x110 icons with the moon in the bottom right corner were made by Snow: @writteninthestcrs

I have also used PSDs from the pack HERE for headers and graphics, and have used other free PSDs from @darkrpsd in some of my iconing ( check them out and see if you can support them!)

[kashmiresims]

Strike of Melancholy

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What was the best feeling in the world? To Orion, it was to not be burdened by anxiety—having no worries or thoughts that could make him feel bad—and to be held by someone who loved him. His nerves were calm, the smell of fresh coffee grounds permeated the room, but that comfortable warmth that had been at his back all night was absent. They were gone. That fact hit his consciousness, rippled through him, and caused his eyes to snap open. His nerves were no longer relaxed. A wave of teal and orange patterns blurred together as his vision focused on the room that he was in. He hadn't noticed how bright the colors were when he entered the night before when it had been dark. He pulled himself up and crossed his legs against the cooler air outside the bed covers that he had tangled himself up in. Then came that familiar, awful hitch of panic in his chest followed closely by an onset of numbness in his limbs. He set his head in his hand, closed his eyes, and held completely still, willing his body to not tremble as his breathing began to rapidly accelerate. He tried to focus on something, anything other than the current whirlwind of thoughts. Cypress always told Orion hum his favorite song in these instances but it felt like his voice was trapped in a painful vice and he couldn't make a sound. Orion wished he had taken a Tranqulicis before he fallen asleep but had been a bit too distracted to remember. He finally caught the reins of his mind and instead controlled them into thinking of the lyrics of the song he had been writing, the one he had sung in front of Cypress at the radio station. “I never knew what love was until I met you. So, thank you for helping me discover what I felt was true.” After a few minutes of reciting the words in his head, his quick exhales subsided and his legs could move again. He opened his eyes and looked straight to the top of the dresser in the room where many bottles of Tranquilicis sat. Wasting no more time, he got up and plucked out two pills, tilted his head, and threw them to the back of his mouth and swallowed dry.

He followed the scent of coffee out of the bedroom and to the kitchen to find that Cain had made a fresh pot. "Hey," Orion greeted him with a shaky smile. He was so relieved that Cain was still here. Logically, it made the most sense—why would Cain up and leave his own place? However, Orion always had a worry at the back of his mind that Cain would all but disappear like he had in the past, and then not contact Orion for weeks. It made Orion feel clingy to want to know where Cain was all the time and he knew he shouldn't worry but couldn't help to. "Mornin' Star Boy," Cain answered in a rough voice, still unused and throaty sounding. He didn't turn to look at Orion but poured himself a cup, "You want any?"

"No thanks," Orion said and pulled out one of the chairs from the small table to sit. Cain liked to drink his coffee black. Orion preferred a handful of sugar and cream in his. Nick liked to joke about it by asking how much coffee Orion would like with his cream and sugar when they went to get any between classes. Orion glanced around the kitchen and the connecting living room. It all was so colorful—following the same scheme he had seen in the bedroom. Cain had moved places in the months between the last time Orion had been with him. Usually Cain opted to crash in Orion's room but something last night prompted Cain to ask Orion over. Of course, Orion was curious to know what that reason was, but knew pressing Cain for answers would make him irritable. "I didn't know you had such a love for teal and orange," Orion mentioned. Cain took a seat while sipping on his coffee and shook his head; he pointed to the walls, "I'm sub-leasing from an art student who is doing a semester abroad. This is all her doing." "I see." Cain raised a thick brow and seemed to study Orion as he sat there. It made Orion self-conscious, but luckily the drugs had kicked in and his anxiety was dissipating. "What's wrong?" Cain asked. Orion slumped forward and held his chin in his hand, "I had an anxiety attack after I woke up." "Didn't you take Tranqulicis?" "I forgot to before going to bed, it's my own fault," Orion lamented, his nerves weren't tangled anymore but he still felt...sad. He shouldn't have. Last night was great, and something he had been hoping for—to be alone with Cain with no distractions for once. He didn't know why he felt this way.

Orion's stomach made an audible grumble just then. Maybe he was just hungry. "Sorry, I don't have much food here. I need to go grocery shopping," Cain said at hearing the discontented noise. Orion's head shot up from his hand with a sudden eagerness, "We could go get brunch somewhere! There's a boxcar café next to the quad that does the best omlette—" "Actually, I need to go downtown today to run some errands. You wanna go get something to eat on the way?" Orion was momentarily shocked that Cain was offering Orion a chance to tag along. He had to jump start his train of thought again to think about it, "There's that Deli by the bay that has pretty food. Want to hit that up?" Cain considered and then nodded, "Yeah, sounds good.” That heavy sense of melancholy Orion felt just a moment before lifted, as if it were a cloud and the sun had just broken through. Errands were a mundane task but yet the offer to join him gave Orion a hint of hope that maybe he and Cain could ever be something more than just each other's go-to hook up. After finishing his mug of coffee, Cain set it in the sink without bothering to wash it, just like the empty bottles of beer stacked up near it that he was meaning to recycle that they had consumed last night. Cain was usually a very easygoing persona, independent, chill—last night Orion could tell he'd been shaken by something. Cain was worried. Whether it was by the late hour he'd called Orion, the uneasy quietness between them before they'd cracked open the six pack, or the rush of physicality then ensued—it wasn't the normal experience with Cain. Orion followed Cain back into the bedroom. His clothes had been discarded at the foot of the bed and he supposed he should get dressed if they were going to go out. Cain approached the dresser to look through a pile of his shirts to find something to wear. There was a mirror on the wall above the dresser and through the reflection, Orion could see Cain frowning—deep in thought. He felt compelled to comfort Cain and so approached from behind, slid his arms around Cain's torso and nuzzled the back of his neck. "Are you okay?" "What makes you think something is wrong?" Cain asked, looking up sharply and meeting Orion's eyes in the reflection of the mirror. Orion hated prying, but he also hated not knowing what was going on with those he cared about, especially if they were suffering in some way. Cain never explained himself, and it was frustrating to care about someone when they didn't open up. Orion lowered his gaze and focused on where he had just nuzzled, seeing a dark spot on Cain's skin he hadn't noticed last night. It looked like the start of a bruise. "Where'd you get this?" he brushed his fingers over the mark and Cain reached up and snatched his hand in his quite abruptly. "Don't worry about it," Cain replied flatly, then he realized his mistake—because Orion worried about everything it seemed. His tone softened a bit, "It's nothing." Orion sighed and laid his head onto Cain's shoulder. He had to keep reminding himself that Cain wasn't his boyfriend, so he had no business worrying over Cain like this. But it was hard. He felt Cain let go of his hand and it was left resting at his collarbone, though soon enough he used it to take a bottle of Tranqulicis Cain was holding out to him meaning for him to have it. Cain made a half smile, trying to reassure Orion, "Let's get dressed and get some grub."

They took the bus line to downtown Memosa Bay. By the time they were seated at the delicatessen, Orion’s stomach was full on growling for food. They wasted no time in ordering some. Soon enough their meals were delivered and they dug in with eager appetites. “So, how did you do on that midterm? Did you ever get your grade posted?” Cain asked between spoonfuls of soup. Orion was in mid-bite of his burger but stopped and smiled, touched that Cain would have remembered or even cared about it. “I got a ninety-five percent!” he felt a bit foolish for worrying so much about it before. He had done an ungodly amount of studying for it, sacrificing so many hours of sleep. “That’s good. Your G.P.A is doing much better than mine I’m afraid.” “What happened? Are you skipping classes again?” Orion gave a slight frown and made to take a drink before eating more of his food. He and Cain had shared business courses over the last two years and sometimes Cain didn’t show up to class. Orion would usually provide him with the notes he’d missed from the lectures.

“I missed my midterm,” Cain explained nonchalantly. “Are you on probation?” Orion’s eyes widened in worried surprise and he nearly choked as he took another bite of his burger. Cain waved his hand outward as if not to worry, “Technically, yes, but I’ll just ace the final and be fine again.” Orion wouldn’t be able to live as Cain did—to just skip a midterm and decide to get a hundred percent on the final like it was nothing. Cain’s confidence was infinite and borderline terrifying. “Relax, you look like you’re going to have another anxiety attack,” Cain said and Orion realized he had been struck momentarily immobile at the news. He willed his hands to lift his burger to his mouth so he could finish it. It was a bummer that Cain had failed his midterm and Orion wondered what was so important for Cain to have skipped it without a second thought. 

They finished their meal; Cain offered to pay, but Orion insisted he would take the bill since he suggested the place to eat. They emerged downtown, and Cain led the way down the sidewalk toward the business district. Orion’s family lived in Memosa Bay and he loved the tall buildings. He craned his head back to look at the skyscrapers’ vertical rise into the clouds, in comparison it made him feel like he was at the bottom of an urban canyon. The autumn wind had picked up and he was glad he was wearing a sweater. Suddenly he felt Cain take his hand and his attention snapped back to the ground. He thought maybe Cain was guiding him another direction and he hadn’t been paying enough attention to have followed but to his surprise, Cain was holding his hand...just to hold it. Orion felt that same warm feeling from earlier and clasped Cain’s hand tighter with his own. This is what he imagined he felt it would be like to have a boyfriend—someone to take walks with and run errands with—dull daily things that were made so much better by having someone there to enjoy it with. They walked a few more blocks before Orion began to wonder what errands Cain needed to do. If it was groceries, they were going in the entirely opposite direction of the nearest grocery store. Cain stopped them in front of an older brick building that had marks of graffiti on it. He abruptly pulled Orion close and gave him a long kiss. The move took Orion by surprise and he was still blinking in confusion when Cain pulled away and said “Hey, why don’t you go back to my place and I’ll catch up later?” 

“What about your errands?” “You wouldn’t want to waste your day off with them, I’ll handle it,” Cain said with in a light, casual tone but look in his eyes was hard. His suggestion was a request. A strike of melancholy hit Orion in the chest. So this day wasn’t what he hoped it was, and Cain still refused to let Orion into his life. Orion nodded apprehensively and made to go back to the bus stop, “Yeah, see you later.” He hoped it was true and this wasn’t one of those times ‘later’ would be in a few months. Hopefully, Cain wouldn’t suddenly be ‘too busy’ to reply to Orion’s texts, hopefully Orion could cope when his Tranquilicis stash had run out, because he had a feeling his anxious nerves couldn’t handle another ghosting episode from Cain. He got a block away before turning to look back at his wayward lover, hopefully not for the last time, but was startled to see Cain wasn’t in sight anymore. Orion frowned and started walking in the opposite direction, back to where he had been. He stopped short of the alleyway, hearing voices floating outward from it. Cain’s was recognizable but the other sounded feminine...it was a woman! “I’m not asking for much, it’s one bottle,” the woman’s voice seemed displeased, cracking with hoarseness. He heard the click of a lighter follow her statement. “Five-hundred.” “You’re out of your mind,” she snapped. “Look, you can only get it from the lab right now and I'm risking my neck here, it’s not approved by the regional drug association, and it can have some really adverse affects when mixed with alcohol.” “I’m counting on that,” the woman replied chillingly and then seemed to sigh, “Knock it down to three hundred and I’ll give you two bottles of that anxiety med you are always happy to have.” 

Orion felt dread rise in him at what he was hearing. Hoping this was all some misunderstanding and it couldn't be what it clearly sounded like. “Deal. Also I’m starting up a little underground venture you might be interested in. Know any gamblers who like to take risks?” Orion couldn’t take it anymore, he swallowed a breath and and quickly peeked around the corner into the alley to see the woman—who looked to be of a mature age—handing a wad of money to Cain as he exchanged it with a bottle of pills. It was a different type of bottle than what Tranqulicis came in. No matter, the scene was shocking. The woman scoffed, seeming slightly amused. “I can get you a hook up to some high rollers but I want a discount on all future transactions. It’s not easy swiping my husband’s meds.” “Sure thing, Marge. If you can get some of your compadres in Pandora up here to see what kind of betting opportunities await, I’ll give you whatever discounts you want.”

Orion nearly threw his back against the brick exterior, out of sight before Cain saw him eavesdropping; his nerves were trying to rise to alarm but the effects of Tranquilicis were thankfully keeping them at bay as well as the inevitable anxiety attack after witnessing such a scene. Cain was dealing. How long had this been going on? Why was he talking about gambling? Orion began walking briskly toward the nearest bus stop in a state of disbelief. Orion would ask Cain directly but he always had the fear that too many questions would spook Cain into another long absence. He didn’t know what to do. If he brought it up, Cain would know he’d been prying into his private, illegal affairs. If he didn’t the truth would eat him alive. He finally made it to the bus stop and he didn’t remember the time in between leaving the alleyway and arriving here. Time was a blur, and he felt his life was a tangle of strings. Couldn’t he for once, just have them laid straight and orderly to be at ease? He fumbled the bottle of Tranquilicis out of his pocket that Cain had given him earlier that morning and swallowed two more—just in case this latest development sent him over the edge. He closed his eyes and held his head in hand so he could think. He couldn’t afford to be a helpless ball of nerves in public. He wished Cypress were there at that moment. Cypress may have thought Cain was a low life but at least he listened. “I never knew what love was until I met you. So, thank you for helping me discover what I felt was true.” The lyrics calmed him at first—however, he wasn’t exactly imagining them this time in his head. He opened his eyes with a new sense of dread. It was...it was being played over the speakers in the bus stop! How? Cypress. Cypress must have recorded the song when Orion performed it at the Radio Station last week. He had aired it live, which he didn’t have permission to do and still miffed Orion a bit thinking of it—but he also didn’t have permission to record it either. Orion’s emotions caught in his throat and the sense of melancholy deepend, engulfed him even, as he realized that those he cared about were no longer a bit trustworthy.

[majesticwarriorblog]

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One of the first areas we are going to look at is your hosting. If you are hosting a large site with many images or videos, a shared hosting like GoDaddy or Hostgator is not going to cut it. You need to find premium hosting solutions to power your website. This is one of the first steps to ensure your website load times are fast. There are several hosting providers we recommend: LiquidWeb WP Engine – 2 Months Free Annual Plan WPXHosting  

Rent a VPS

Renting your own Virtual Private Server will create a large difference on your site. Most serious businesses and famous bloggers opt to have their own VPS because of its speed and security. Shared hosting can create some complications on your site, especially if one of its websites is experiencing trouble. Many times, the ease of having your own VPS is worth the extra cash. We use and recommend Liquid Web and have many different options of VPS/VDS you can take advantage of.  

Keep Your Pictures Optimized

Another tip to increase your website speed is to pay attention to your pictures. Pictures usually take up a lot of time to load, especially if you have not edited them properly. If your site is picture heavy, then it will definitely take longer to load especially if they are not optimized. Most people would opt to place thumbnails or smaller resolution pictures on the pages to save on space, as well as load time. You may think that optimizing your images so they will load faster will take up a lot of time on your end. It is not necessarily so. There are many programs that can help you optimize all of your pictures at once, so that they are all in the same size. That should be so much less effort for you. To make it even faster for your viewers to access your site, you may also want to try the lazy load technique, where the pictures load while the viewer is scrolling down the page. This saves a lot of loading time and it is very user friendly. This will save your viewers bandwidth, especially for viewers that do not read posts all the way through. A great plugin that works to help optimize your images is Imagify. Imagify will optimize your images with just a few clicks of a button. They provide different programs based on your data usage per month. You can also use a CDN to help with optimizing your images. A CDN is known as a content delivery network and “is a system of distributed servers (network) that deliver pages and other Web content to a user, based on the geographic locations of the user, the origin of the webpage and the content delivery server”. Seen published on http://www.webopedia.com/TERM/C/CDN.html. A good CDN is Max CDN and has very competitive pricing.  

Use YouTube

Using YouTube for videos can actually keep the loading time down on your posts and pages. Placing a video directly on your site can cause some drag while people try to access your content. If you do not like using YouTube, there are other streaming services that are readily available to use online. Putting lesser loads on your server will make your site easier to access. For a more optimal user experience, remember to disable the Auto Play feature on your videos. This can be a little unsettling for your viewers and some of them may get annoyed enough to leave your page. Give a great description of the video you want them to see. If they are at work and the auto play comes on, they potentially can bounce off your website immediately. Check out our web design do’s and don’ts.  

Keep Your Posts Organized

Keeping your main page neat and organized is also a good way to keep your loading speed fast enough to gain more viewers. Instead of showing the full posts on the main page, you can choose to show only the first few paragraphs. Excerpts are sneak peeks to the main content, and it is a great way to build interest too. You may also want to make sure that you only feature around 4 to 8 posts on the main page in order to reduce the load time. You can have a load more button that allows more posts to be loaded just by a click. You can also utilize pages (page 1, 2, 3 for your posts), or you can develop a good database that can make your audience get to the content that they want faster. People will definitely appreciate your site’s efficiency. A great way to keep your posts organized is utilizing a silo structure on your website.  

Wordpress Settings & Plugins for Website Speed Optimization

When it comes to wordpress, it is a database website that has a lot of functionality and plugins to not only speed up your site, but also help you optimize your website. It is important to use plugins that have little drag and drain on your website and help improve your websites performance. We tried all of the following WP Caching Plugins:

W3 Total Cache

WP Super Cache

WP Fastest Cache

Zen Cache (Now Comet Cache)

WP Rocket

The clear winners for a caching plugin on our website speed were WP Rocket and WP Fastest Cache. I need to also mention we only did the paid versions of WP Rocket and WP Fastest Cache. The other caching plugins we were only using the free version. We opted to use WP Rocket for several reasons. Some of the reasons we choose to go with WP Rocket:

Cost for many websites (WP Fastest Cache charges per website installation)

Integration with Imagify was easy

Optimal setup was easy

Easy integration with Max CDN

As far as website speed loading time, it was very close. WP Rocket was a slight bit faster than WP Fastest Cache. On WP Rocket we usually load between 1.2s and 1.5s with a webpage that is 3.1mb.  

Make Use of Your WordPress Plugins

Try to check through the plugins on your site and find the ones that are no longer being used. Unused plugins can create a lot of drag on your WordPress site. Take a look through your list. Sometimes we can forget, and deleting the things we do not used can create seconds of difference. On the internet, that is a big difference already. You may even want to study how these plugins function. You can incorporate these without having to put the entire plugin on the site. A few codes on your functions.php can give you the same benefits a widget can offer you. You also want to keep your wordpress plugins up-to-date for efficiency and security reasons.  

Pay Attention to Your WordPress Settings

There is also a way to increase the loading speed through your WordPress settings. You may have noticed pingbacks and trackbacks on your WordPress. This is something that is enabled by default so that you can get notified whenever other blogs interact with you. This is a great WordPress feature, but this can also affect loading speeds. This adds on new data to your post, which in turn makes the post heavier. Turning this feature off will let you browse through your site a little bit faster.  

Do Your Maintenance Work

WordPress is based on a MySQL Database, which means that the database gets larger whenever your posts are edited or when comments are left on the site. Always remember that every time you revise your post, the last version will be automatically saved to the database. Cleaning this up will allow your page to load much faster. Spam comments must also be deleted. While it is great to have comments on your page, spam comments do nothing for you and it will only slow the page down. There are plugins on WordPress that can help you do these maintenance tasks on your site. Since plugins can create a bit of a slow down on your site, you might want to enable this only once a month. For the rest of the time, you can keep it disabled. WP Rocket takes care of the maintenance work for you as well. It will cleanup old revisions and will also delete spam comments from your database for you each week on auto pilot. Also try not to keep website page redirects to a minimum. Sometimes you have to redirect pages, posts, categories and even tags to a new URL. Each redirect added to the page, can and will slow down the page load times.  

Cut Down on the Word Art, Widgets and Graphics. (If You Have To)

The first thing that you should do is to cut down on the word art. Many times, glitzy word art can slow down a page significantly, and it is not a pretty picture when it refuses to show up on screen. In some ways, word art can be unnecessary. It is fine to use it for titles, or for details that absolutely need the attention. There is no need to overdo. You can try using a neat and legible font instead and pay attention to proper spacing. Nice and simple goes a long way, and it will even make your site look fresh and professional. Remember to take down pop ups and widgets that are not of the utmost importance. Decorations can be attractive, but you will have to consider that not all viewers will appreciate that. They will always want good content, and they want it fast. Widgets and other decorations can sometimes take away the experience.  

Majestic Warrior The blog post Effective Ways to Speed Up Your WordPress Website is courtesy of website - MajesticWarrior

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[reesesxpiece-blog]

a life update from the dorm of reese e. ham

           Reese had never been one to venture off by herself; company was always a welcome comfort whenever she left the dorms. Still, there was one place she always found solace in her loneliness, and that was the art museum. Over the past few months, though, things hadn't had to be that way. Reese's friends had tagged along, letting her ramble about Van Gogh, Seurat, Renoir —  all of her favorites. After Reese won a date with him on Valentine's Day, Castor had taken her here, to a pop-up exhibit about the stars, and he'd been the one to ramble that time. Today, however, she came alone, just as she'd done yesterday, and every day before for the past few weeks. Art was always her first passion, but things just weren't the same lately. She couldn't find the same connection, the same bond, the same pull that drew her to the paintings, not right now. She didn't know what had changed — maybe the stars were out of alignment? — but it seemed like Castor was avoiding her. And in some weird way, the thought made her feel vaguely empty, like he'd taken a piece of her with him.

           In the days since they'd last spoken, Reese had become somewhat of a shell of herself, hiding more and more behind her seemingly endless array of sweaters and books. You weren’t likely to see her on campus, unless she was in class. The brunette had fallen into a routine of going from class to the dorm, back to class, back to the dorm, to the art museum, and back to the dorm again, leaving little to no room for socialization...which meant fewer chances of running into Castor and having to face whatever this awkwardness between them was. She wouldn’t mind seeing his face, really  — she missed him, much more than she’d be willing to admit to him, or herself, or anyone for that matter. Did he even miss her? She refused to let herself worry. If he wanted to, he’d come around, eventually...though she secretly hoped it would be sooner rather than later. With all the attention she’d been giving her studies, she’d somehow managed to work ahead in half her classes, and the extra time she had was more time to think about Castor, and she didn’t want to think. And she knew just what to do. When you need to take your mind off something, you drink.

          It was Tuesday night, and there Reese was, drunk as a skunk in the middle of the dorm’s bar lounge, not that anyone seemed to notice or care. Reese didn’t care  — she was having fun. Gods, she hadn’t been this drunk in a long time...or maybe ever. That wasn’t going to stop her, though. Who cares about 8 a.m. classes? I fuckin’ don’t, she thought, as she sipped on the remnants of her fourth and final beer. Reese contemplated getting another, but she needed to be able to at least walk back to her room and retain some of her dignity when she left. She’d long since given up on the heels she’d been wearing, finding them quite a hassle while trying to dance, and so they lay under one of the tables while she partied, her now near-empty beer held high above her head. Suddenly, an all-too-familiar discomfort bubbled in her stomach, and her hands flew to her abdomen, the beer in her hand completely forgotten as it fell to the floor. With all the grace she could muster, Reese grabbed her shoes off the floor and ran to her room before the contents of her stomach could make a very public reappearance. 

           “Hey, Mr. Richardson!” Reese chirped, as she walked into the store, the bells above the door alerting the elderly store owner of her arrival.

        It was a relatively quiet day in the art supply store. There were only two other customers shuffling around, and within minutes, both had left without making a purchase. Reese, however, knew exactly what she wanted, and made her way towards the different selection of canvases. She had originally planned on only buying one, but now that they were in front of her, it was difficult to pick which size was right for her intended project. She'd been pacing the aisle for a good few minutes, still debating what she wanted to do, when it struck her that something was off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it...There was no music playing, no muffled voices commenting on the paint selection offered,, and the silence was making it all too hard to think. The silence. 

           It was unusual for Mr. Richardson to be so quiet — he always returned her greetings with a warm smile and an offer of Baskin Robbins hard candies from the jar he kept behind the counter. “Mr. Richardson?” Reese called out, making her way towards the counters in the back. “Hello??” 

           You can imagine the shock on her face when the stereo kicked back on and the little old man appeared behind her. She almost dropped the canvases she’d been holding, but she hadn’t paid yet and she didn’t want to cause any damage to them. As per his usual routine, Mr. Richardson simply greeted Reese, rang her up, and offered her extra candies as an apology for scaring her. The minute she was out the door, extra candy (and three canvases) in tow, Mr. Richardson let out a low chuckle and went back to reading his book. The Reese girl was his only late customer these days, so staying open much longer was merely a formality.

           In the long list of bad decisions Reese had been making lately, skipping her medications was the absolute worst. She'd take them one day, but forget the next day, leaving her focus out of whack. The only consistent thing going for her was her schedule, and she was beginning to grow tired of it. Nothing ever changed - it was the same routine every single day, and she'd started to feel like she was just going through the motions. If she didn't get out of this cycle soon, she was going to go crazy, though in all honesty, the brunette already felt like she was starting to get stir-crazy.

        With two (labeled) mugs at her side, Reese was ready to start her next project - whatever it may be. She’d always kept her paints and canvases under her bed, amongst a number of other art supplies, and now was the first time in a while that she’d jumped at the chance to use them. For both safety and cleanliness, she’d laid down a flimsy plastic tablecloth over the floor, and her makeshift studio space was practically all set. A paper plate served as her palette for the night, various yellows and blues covering the surface. Usually, Reese would draw inspiration from whatever new poem Catriona had written, but her interactions with the girl had been fairly limited in the last month, so she’d had to rely on other things, other people. Some nights, however, Reese didn’t know what her hands were creating until the work was done. Tonight was one of those nights.Reese didn't know what had possessed her to pick only blues and yellows - maybe it was Van Gogh, maybe it was Castor - but she was excited. Her hands moved of their own accord, her brush streaking deep blues and brilliant yellows across the canvas. When she was done, Reese breathed a sigh of relief as she noted there were no stars whatsoever. As a reward, she treated herself to a few of the Baskin Robbins hard candies she'd gotten from Mr. Richardson at the art supply store.

         Reese was at a loss about what to do. She’d thoroughly regretted spending her Tuesday night drinking after the hangover she’d had in the morning, the art museum was closed for a private event, and she’d already tucked away all her painting supplies for another rainy day. Nothing on Netflix piqued her interest, and her selection of DVDs didn't have much to offer either.  It wasn't at the top of her list of exciting things to do, but after some consideration, Reese finally settled on baking. It couldn't hurt to make a batch or two of cupcakes, a cake, and a batch of cookies, right? In hindsight, it was probably a little much, but she knew Piper would take pleasure in eating all the leftover batter she'd stored for her. She couldn't wait to see the look on her sister's face when she walked over with four bowls of unused batter, all of which currently sat in her fridge while she watched Chopped re-runs on TV. After about an hour, she found herself bored nearly to tears, and as a result, she now sat cross-legged on the living room floor, a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other, spamming her little sister's phone with messages ("I'm bored, come hang out with me, I’m watching CHOPPED, I miss you, I wanna watch gossip girl, come watch it with me so i can teach you, I have batter, LOVE ME PLS, I'm coming over kbye."). 

           Reese’s wine glass sat empty in the sink as she pulled bowl after bowl out of the fridge, stacking them on the counter and humming to herself. She’d just taken out the last bowl of chocolate cake batter when a knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

[crownoyami]

Chapter 6 - Archangel

Title:  Archangel

Pairing: Gabriel/Sam Rating: E Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Warnings/Tags:  Drinking, Frottage, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Killing, Hitman Gabriel, Feet, Switching, Bottom Gabriel, Bottom Sam, Top Gabriel (Supernatural), Top Sam Winchester, Rimming, Oral Sex, Public Display of Affection, Rough Sex, Marking, Violence, Minor Character Death, Mentions of Rape, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary: Secrets had a way of being discovered. For hitman Gabriel, his biggest secret may just cost him the only person he ever loved.

AO3 Link To Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273952/chapters/38265968

Author’s Notes: I want to mention a few things before we get on with the story. If you do not know this month is NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and like last year I will be writing an original novel. This means I will not have much time to update and after this fic is complete, I probably won’t be posting anything (besides the Reverse J2 fics once I get the dates for those and whatever I manage for the Gabriel Monthly Challenge).

 Secondly, since I was dumb enough to sign up for every Big Bang that I could I don’t have anything pre-written and waiting for posting like I have been lately so it’s going to be even longer before I can post anything since I have to actually write it.

 Thirdly, I know that I’ve mentioned that I’m trying to get a book published before but I don’t think that’s going to happen how I wanted it to. So what I’m doing now is writing a novel that fits in the parameters of the publishing company I have my heart set on (dreamspinnerpress.com) Hopefully if I can get a book that matches what they want they might later on (if it sells well) let me publish Stanford Art.

 And I don’t say it enough but thank you to everyone that presses that Kudos button, and leaves comments, I swear you guys are my brighten my day more than you know!

   ~*~ This has been edited by Gamermom!

     Chapter 6

   Getting Karen had been easy. While Gabriel hadn’t expected anyone to target her, he hadn’t been expecting anyone to kidnap Jo either. Gabriel didn’t even have to explain everything that was going on, all it took was arriving at her door and saying there was trouble and Karen was packing a small bag and following him to his car. Charlie was quick to give him the all clear when he arrived at the house, which Gabriel took at her word and carefully ushered Karen inside. It only took a moment for Gabriel to open the doorway and Karen to rush toward her husband.

 Gabriel set his unused bag down beside the door for a quick escape if needed and smiled at the scene. Karen had her arms wrapped around Bobby’s neck while complaining about leaving her in the first place. It was sweet how Bobby blushed for a second before kissing her, relieved nothing had happened to the woman he loved. Gabriel didn’t dare look to Sam, no matter how tempting it was. There was nothing else in the world he wanted more than a love like the two older people before him.

 Killers didn’t deserve love.

 “So now what do we do? Just sit around and wait for whoever is gunning for you to show up?” asked Rufus who had taken a seat by Charlie. The dark-skinned man seemed relaxed, a glass in his hand but there was a .9mm beside him on the table, ready to act if needed.

 “Depends, Charlie did you get a response from Kali or Crowley?” asked Gabriel making his way to observe her tablet. Charlie could work faster on a keyboard than anyone he had ever met, it was why she was recruited in the first place. Though he could do a bit of hacking and understood some of the programs she had taken the time to explain to him, there was nobody better at the job than her. Watching Charlie bite her lip for a second, Gabriel knew the answer. Lowering his voice in a calming manner, Gabriel tried to reassure the woman in front of him. This wasn’t her gig. She was to remain at HQ and direct him, she was never trained for being in the thick of things.

 “Have you tried Crowley more than once?” asked Gabriel. Charlie turned and glared at him for a moment, her hands clenching every few moments while she spoke. “I know how to do my job, so far I’ve tried everyone I could think of and nothing. It’s like they blacklisted my contact info, if I wasn’t able to get into the system I would have thought I was fired.”

 Though she said it as a joke, Gabriel frowned. “We don’t get fired, we get burned.” Glancing at the tablet again, Gabriel paused before leaning over Charlie and typing a series of codes into the tablet. “What are you doing?” asked Dean who was glaring holes in the back of Gabriel’s head while he typed. Gabriel didn’t turn away from the screen, not wanting to become distracted from his time-sensitive coding.

 “I’m bringing up the contracts list, typically they are assigned out specifically, but there is a prime list given to every Head which is then routed to whoever is the best fit for the job. I may have slipped a back-door into my boss’s system last time we were together in case I wanted priority at anyone on the list.”

 Charlie blinked from where she had been carefully looking at the screen and swiveled to look at Gabriel. “Wait… you and Kali…?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Gabriel shrugged before answering. “We were on again off again for the past couple years. Was too complicated for more though, thankfully I was able to slip the virus in before we broke it off shortly before I moved here.”

 “Dude you slept with your boss?” asked Jo, still close to her mother but looking much better than when he left. Shrugging again, Gabriel finishing his coding and started to browse through a rather extensive list of names. “With this kind of work the lines between right and wrong blur easily. Not many coworkers in this business who haven’t slept together. Cuts back on the questions we can’t answer.”

 “Gabe…” began Sam who Gabriel noticed was standing only a few feet from him. Hearing the beep from the tablet stopped whatever Sam was about to say as Gabriel leaned back to give Charlie space. Ten seconds later, Gabriel sucked in a breath at the list. Charlie called out his name when she spotted the same thing he did, worry tinging her voice while she spoke.

 “It’s everyone… Gabe… they’re cleaning house.”

 Gabriel shut his eyes for a second, pushing down the feeling of betrayal before opening them and taking in the list again. “Someone must have hacked the system, even if they wanted us all dead there’s no way this would be authorized. Contact everyone you can, leave a warning if they don’t answer and explain what we found. If someone got in we can’t trust any orders given, all contracts need to be revoked. Think you can do that?”

 Charlie nodded her head, easily taking over from where Gabriel had left off. “And what exactly are you going to be doing while she plays hide and seek with your people?” asked Bobby who had his arm wrapped around Karen. Gabriel looked at the bag he had prepared earlier, sitting by the doorway.

 “I’m going to HQ, it’s the only place I can think of to start searching for Kali and Crowley. Chances are they’re dead… but if they aren’t I need to find out what’s going on and with them at least I know when they’re lying.” Glancing around the room, Gabriel sighed before speaking again. “It’s up to you if you want to stay here or move to another safe house, but I would prefer you stay here. This is one of the safest locations you could be and it’s well stocked, I shouldn’t be more than a couple days.”

 Gabriel turned to fling the prepared bag over his shoulder when it was grabbed by a large hand. Turning to look at the one stopping him, Gabriel had to hold back a sigh as he looked at Sam. The man was furious, as he had every right to be. They hadn’t had time to talk, but Gabriel was certain learning your lover was a hired killer was probably something they should have spoken about before.

 “Gabriel, we need to talk before you leave.”

 This time Gabriel couldn’t hold back a sigh, yeah, they needed to talk. Glancing at the open floor-plan Gabriel wondered where exactly Sam thought they could have any privacy. “Sam, you’re pissed, and I get that you have every right to be… but I have to move. If Kali and Crowley aren’t dead, then they are at least being held captive and I may not like them most of the time, but they are my bosses. I owe them to try and help.”

 “You mean they’re the people who give you names to kill?” asked Sam, raising an eyebrow. Gabriel didn’t hesitate to nod, while he wanted to try and plea his case he doubted Sam would even listen to him now. Not that Gabriel blamed him, he had caused enough pain to the taller man. “Yes Sam, they are the ones to give me a name to take out. There is only one level above Crowley, a man I’ve never met who makes the list, then Crowley gets it and divides it for the group leaders and Kali as my leader sends it off to whoever is best fitted for the job.”

 “And you don’t think there’ something wrong with that? I mean what do these people have to do to get trained hitmen on their asses?” asked Dean who was staring at Gabriel who shrugged. “No idea. Sometimes we’re given background info if it will help us on the case, but for the most part we shut up, don’t ask questions and get the job done. The less I know the better.”

 Sam took a step back from Gabriel then, shaking his head as Gabriel spoke. “I trust my boss, and while she may be a Grade A bitch, she wouldn’t send me on a mission unless the person deserved it. I even somewhat trust Crowley to an extent. They didn’t get to be where they are by fucking with people and sending us out on pointless missions.” Slinging the bag over his shoulder now that Sam was no longer holding it, Gabriel pointed toward the door.

 “Now I’m going to hopefully save their asses and get to the bottom of this.” Opening the door, Gabriel stopped as Sam called out to him. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Sam asked, and though he didn’t turn around Gabriel could picture the exact look of betrayal on the other’s face. “No,” responded Gabriel still not turning to face Sam. “I would have been happy if you had never found out. I was never going to tell you Sam, and I am sorry that you know.”

 With that Gabriel shut the door and started on his way. While it wasn’t what Sam wanted to hear it was the truth. Gabriel would never have gotten Sam tangled into this mess if he could have helped it. For a couple of months, Gabriel had been lucky enough to have the tall man, to embrace the idea of retirement in the future, of coming home to Sam’s warm smile for the rest of his life. Just like the dreams before them, Gabriel watched as it died, as his happiness was once again ripped away.

 Sam would want nothing more to do with him now, if Gabriel was lucky the man would allow Gabriel to get them out of this mess and if he survived perhaps Sam would accept the house as a parting gift. There would be nothing keeping him close by anymore, not without Sam.

  *~*~*~*

  “Well that went well,” remarked Charlie who was still at her tablet although she glanced up every few moments to look at Sam. Her comment earned a snort from Jo who was now sitting by her own strength although Ellen was close by, not wanting her daughter to leave her sight after nearly losing her. “He wasn’t even going to tell me.” Spoke Sam, his tone defeated while he continued to look out the door where Gabriel had been only moments before.

 Charlie rolled her eyes before speaking. “Of course, he wasn’t, would you? Could you tell the love of your life that you kill people for a living? That at any time you could be killed yourself if you fuck up a job? No, you were happier not knowing, and maybe in a decade or so he would have been able to retire and spend the rest of his life making it up to you.”

 “She’s right you know,” mentioned Rufus who took a small sip of the glass in his hand. “Gabriel is what? Almost thirty? Forty is retirement age in his business, your body starts to shut down and no matter how much you train you can’t always have the same reflexes as in your youth. Programmers and hackers stay on longer of course, but field agents? They can only milk your skills so much before throwing in the towel and so long as you keep your head down it’s not a bad retirement plan.”

 “How would you know?” asked Bobby who had let go of Karen. For her part, Karen was making her way slowly over to Sam, not wanting to startle the hurting man but needing to offer comfort where she could.

 “I know because it was my job,” grouched Rufus. “retired at thirty-eight when a stray bullet busted my knee. Wasn’t any good to anyone anymore so they let me retire early and gave me my pension package. I told you that I used to be CIA, just because you thought I was talking out of my ass didn’t make it any less true.”

 Seeing the look on Bobby’s face while he tried to process that his best friend used to kill people for a living, Charlie decided to speak up while observing Sam. “I get that you’re going to have trouble processing this, but Gabe isn’t the bad guy.” Dean cut in then, while he wasn’t exactly yelling his voice was raised. “The man kills people and you’re trying to tell us that he’s not the bad guy? What kind of brainwashing have they done to you?”

 Shaking her head, Charlie kept a close eye on her screen from where she was waiting for contact from one of the other hackers. “No brainwashing, just facts. Gabriel is sent to take out people I’ve screened first. He may not know what they’ve done but I’ve made it my business to know as his handler. I’m not saying it’s right, or that there couldn’t be other ways to go about it, but the results can’t be argued with. I didn’t like it at first either, I mean who would? But Gabriel does what he can, all the agents do with the hope that their orders are coming from someone who is doing theirs. He goes in and gets the job done, no questions, but he isn’t a mindless killer. He doesn’t hurt innocents that could get in the way even if it would make his job easier.”

 “How do you know?” asked Sam, his arm wrapped around Karen while turning blood-shot eyes to Charlie. “How do you know that he doesn’t take out other people and just not call it in, so he doesn’t get in trouble?”

 “First off,” began Charlie, typing in a reply to one of her fellow hackers to make them aware of the situation. “Gabriel isn’t the kind of guy, you should know that by now. Sure, he can be a dick with the best of them, but he isn’t the kind who would harm people just to save his own ass.” Grinning at the answer she received from the other hacker, Charlie pulled out her phone and sent a text to Gabriel to let him know that one of his friends were arriving for backup. “Secondly, I’m his handler which means that he’s on my watch when he’s working. I hear everything, I record it and it’s all analyzed to make certain the agent isn’t lying.”

 Turning to face Sam again now that she knew Gabriel would be protected and her program could run by itself for a few moments, Charlie caught Sam’s eye. “Lastly though? I was an innocent Gabriel was sent to kill. I had hacked into their system for bragging rights and they thought I was a spy who needed to be eliminated. He was sent to kill me, but the second he saw me he made a different call that could have gotten him put on the cutting board. He risked himself to take me in alive and made certain nothing happened to me while under his care no matter how much I fought him.”

 Shrugging, Charlie smiled at the memory. “Gabriel isn’t a ruthless killer, he does his job but if the situation calls for it I know he’d rather put himself at risk than harm an innocent, orders or no.” Hearing a beep come from her screen, Charlie looked at the sequence of data coming through before a large smile broke out on her face. Tapping the side of her head where her earpiece was located she easily turned on her communication.

 “I found them, looks like you’re going to meet up with Bal in about four hours I’m sending you the address now.” Gabriel must have said something as Charlie’s eyes softened for a second before she spoke again. “Will do,” spoke Charlie before tapping her ear again and muting her side of the connection. Blinking for a moment, Charlie hesitated before typing. “He asked me to sign the house over to you, so you wouldn’t have to pass by him after you officially called things to an end. Tell me Sam, is that the actions of a mindless killer or of a man trying to take care of the one he loves?”

 Sam didn’t answer, not that Charlie was expecting him to. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned against Karen who was still wrapped around him. He had a lot to think about.

   P.S. If you want to keep up to date on my writing add me to Facebook, Tumbler, Twitter or Instagram as CrowNoYami ;-) Also, if you want to see what I’m reading (I always review so you know what you’re getting into) I’m on Goodreads as well, the same name as always.

[itsworn]

How to build your own cast aluminum windshield frame

Kustoms are all about styling- taking an original body, chopping it up, and redesigning it to fit the vision in your head. That is one of the things that makes building cars so much fun, you never know what you are going to see next. When you have an Art Deco model such as this 1941 Lincoln Continental, much of the original styling is already beautiful, just a few tweaks here and there to make it yours. However, there is one area that was a major failure, and that is the windshield frame. Unlike the rest of the body, which has big bold curves and swoopy lines, the windshield frame is just plain and boring. In all honesty, it looks like it belongs on a VW Thing or a Jeep as opposed to one the most beautiful Art Deco production cars.

The reality is that everything above the door line is wrong on this car- the windshield and the convertible top. The top is being changed out for a hand-built Carson style top, but what about that windshield frame? It is far too flat and square to be left as is. We could try to modify the cast iron frame, but it would still be a little too upright, and altering the angle would mess with the side windows. What we want is a swoopy frame that evokes the styling of the 1930s coupes, otherwise known as a “DuVall” style windshield. We just have to build it.

There are a couple of ways these things are done. We could spend months and months trying to hammer-form sheet metal into the look we want, which an expert metal craftsman can handle, but we simply are not that skilled with a hammer and dolly. We could search for a car in the salvage yards to cut up and modify into something that resembled what we want, or we can start over from scratch and build a design that matches our ideas and doesn’t break the bank. We are going to cast our own windshield frame.

OK, so technically, we are not casting in-house, that will be handled by a small local foundry that specializes in small production parts. We are designing and building the pattern for the mold. The pattern is the form that is used to make the mold itself. There are some critical features that you must pay attention to when laying out a part that is going to be cast, namely drafts and undercuts. Draft is the angle of all sides when the part is laying in the casting position (how it will be sitting when poured). The vertical surfaces must have at least a 2-degree draft, and the base must be wider than the top. This helps aid in the release of the part. The other issue to be aware of are the undercuts. On some parts, like our frame, this simply can’t be avoided. In order to get the part to fit the car, there are going to be undercuts. This is alleviated through a two-part mold, and a removable casting base called a “follower” that allows the top side to be formed, then the base is removed so that the other half of the casting mold can be formed.

The bulk of the work on this project is done with MDF (Medium Density Fiberboard) and body filler. The design and build process is time consuming, but it is well worth the effort. Using the original frame as a guide, we built a rough copy from MDF, specifically the angle of the frame relative to the door glass and the tails that run into the door jambs. Everything else will be altered.

We built the frame using superglue and brad nails. You want to build the frame base as sturdy as possible, as you will be removing and installing the piece numerous times. The original glass was angled at 56-degrees. We don’t want to chop it, the original height is about right, but that angle is too steep, so we pulled the base of the glass forward 2.5 inches, which added 6 degrees to the rake of the glass (50 degrees total rake). In order for the glass to be at the same height off the cowl, the glass will need to be lengthened 1 inch, so this is sort of an “anti-chop.” We built an analog for the glass itself with ¼-inch Masonite, then used that to create the actual glass surround, which was made with 5/8-inch MDF. Using super glue and wood blocks, this piece was positioned and glued into place.

Once the skeleton was built, the styling begins. You can fill in the gaps and make a blocky frame, or go crazy and make everything swoopy. We opted for the latter. For this part of the process, we used a combination of body fillers, including Duraglass, which is fiberglass reinforced body filler, and standard lightweight body filler. The Duraglass is used as the base. This stuff can be applied thicker without worrying about cracking, and it is very strong.

Once the design was completed, the frame was prepped for casting and sent to the foundry. The casting process took about a month. The foundry built a casting frame called a flask, and used a process called bonded sand casting. Unlike green sand, which is fine sand mixed with oil to keep it in shape, bonded sand hardens like concrete. This helps reduce part shrinkage, because the cooling metal can’t collapse the walls of the mold. A green sand mold is cheaper, but a large, thin part like this is bound to shrink heavily and warp, which will render the final part unusable. Bonded sand cuts the shrink factor down considerably. Typical aluminum casting shrinks 1.5” over every surface, which means, for a part like ours, it could shrink as much as an inch over the width. However, that calculation only works for solid parts, and while the frame is 51” long, it is less than 2” thick. This makes any shrinkage calculation very difficult. In our project, the final shrinkage was less than 0.9 percent, which is much better than the estimates. The base shrunk ½-inch overall, which required some grinding and clearance work after the casting was complete, but that was going to be required anyway. If we were to cast a second frame, we could rectify the shrinkage so that the finished cast part would be match to the original pattern’s dimensions.

The final part looks incredible, fits the car and has the exact styling we were after. Our original plan was to polish the frame, but there were some minor surface imperfections that showed up during the polishing process that we couldn’t live with, so we ended up filling the pits with epoxy, priming, painting and using a silver nitrate spray process that yielded the polished aluminum look we were after. Chrome plating was also an option, but the $3,000 price tag was a little more than we wanted to spend. We spent $1,600 on the casting, and additional pieces could be cast for about $1,100. A second casting would most likely have fixed the surface finish issues, but we were able to get the look we wanted, so we stuck with the initial casting.

The original windshield is plain and boring. It has no style and does not fit the rest of the body. Time for it to go.

We removed the frame and laid it out on some strips of MDF, and then traced the shape onto the boards.

The cowl piece has to match the original frame, so we measured the original and transferred that to the new base cowl piece. Even a half of a degree off can wreck the fitment to the door glass.

The frame has supports that run through the door hinges on the cowl, we recreated those with strips of MDF and shaped it to match.

The frame base was laid up with notched panels. This adds strength to the overall piece.

The new base matches the original angle and fits the cowl well.

We created a pattern for the glass and then marked a board with the shape. The line in the middle is where the wood gets recessed with a router and a rabbet bit.

This becomes the windshield frame glass form. We added ¾-inch around the glass pattern for a reveal.

Keeping the top of the glass in the same position as the factory frame, we set the base forward about 2.5-inches, which gave us the 50-degree rake we were after.

Once the base skeleton was formed, we started layering on the filler. This is all Duraglass for strength. We used masking tape on these voids, placed on the inside of the frame to keep the filler from falling out of the skeleton. We will bodywork the interior frame later. This process took several days to get the look just right.

The interior of the frame is pretty simple, You can see the glass channel as well.

Once the filler work has been roughed in with 36-grit sand paper, we needed to make sure the two sides were symmetrical. Lots of measuring and note taking is involved with this project.

We used a piece of poster board to mark the shape of each side, and then made a pattern that will be used on both sides. The pattern must be perfect; any imperfection will be present in the final part.

The pattern is Masonite, and we placed it on either side of the frame, removing and adding material where necessary.

At this point, we also installed the dash and started bodyworking this area to make sure the frame looks good from inside as well.

The follower board was made with a sheet of MDF and a wood and Bondo structure that fits tight up against the pattern, providing the draft needed and ensuring no sand will find its way in the undercut area.

Metal Dynamics in Tulsa, OK handled the casting. They built a custom flask for this project, and it will be saved for us if we ever need to make another frame. The sand is packed by hand while the table vibrates to help it settle. Then they flipped the flask, removed the follower, and packed the other side.

This is what the raw casting looks like. The large round pieces are the sprues (where the molten aluminum is poured) and the long stem is the vent, which allows the hot gasses to escape the mold as it is poured. This gets removed with a bandsaw.

Once we got the casting back, it has a mildly rough finish. We started trimming and shaping the cowl area to accommodate the shrinkage. The blue tint is called Dykem, it is a fast-drying machinist dye the makes it easy to scribe lines and to see where you need to remove material. Think of it as guide coat for machining.

The door jamb tails had to be removed for casting. It would nearly impossible to sand-cast the frame with them intact. This means we have to recreate them in aluminum after the fact. Using some plate aluminum, we cut it to rough size and shape, and then used a torch to heat and bend it in the shop press, using the original tails as a guide. We then had the tails TIG welded to the frame.

Our new windshield frame looks so much better than the factory piece, it really adds to the Art Deco styling, and brings that 30s-40s era coupe look and feel to the car. Our favorite part is how the peaks match the fenders and hood.

The last step was finishing. You can finish your part anyway you choose. We wanted something between polished and brushed aluminum, and the silver nitrate process, Alsa Easy-Chrome, did the trick. It looked amazing in a brushed finish, but there are a few pits in the surface, so we had to go another direction.

The post How to build your own cast aluminum windshield frame appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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[mac-lc-dude-blog]

Selling the Toys

First and foremost, welcome to this random collection of thoughts. You can refer to me as the Mac Dude; I am a longtime user of the platform and have been known by any variation of that nickname for many years.

I had today off from work. Normally, in the middle of August, we use these days to go on vacation, but since my large-scale vacation already occurred, my off day was spent clearing out items from my mother’s house.

It has been many years since I lived there, yet a good deal of what remains belongs to me. With my mother wanting to downsize and my wallet looking for a few incoming dollar bills, my goal was simple: find things to sell on Facebook Marketplace, Craigslist, or other similar sites. 

What I had forgotten about was just how many items I could list for sale. When I moved out, I took what I needed to live with me and even brought a few frivolities and childhood memories along.

One such toy is a special edition Power Rangers action figure from 1995, released alongside the first movie. This figure is of Billy, the blue ranger, known best as the brainy member of the team. Billy was always a positive role model as a character, showing that a brilliant student can also be athletic and well-liked, not to mention a valuable team player. This particular Billy figure is one which can be “morphed” from human to Power Ranger with the touch of a button (which flips the figure’s head) and, as a limited edition figure, is a special metallic blue.

Most children who watch Power Rangers and collect toys, however, have more than one figure. After all, the Power Rangers team consists of six members. Sometimes, they even change their suit color during the season. They also get big robotic vehicles to drive and fight various bad guys. This means only one thing: tons of toys become available.

I didn’t realize just how many of these things I had until today. There were seven full-size giant vehicles (called “zords” on the show), several sets of rangers themselves, and even a few villains. 

They had also been packed away for two decades.

The box containing the figures even was marked with my fourth grade handwriting, which had been penned with a magic marker.

As if that weren’t bad enough, there was a second box in the attic. This box was left over from a move made in third grade and housed a large playset resembling the headquarters of the Power Rangers. A complete set of Happy Meal toys from the Power Rangers movie promotion was inside, as was the set of small zords (all six of them!) sold separately at McDonald’s. There was also an eighth full size zord inside.

Within an hour of posting, they had been sold. I repacked them, this time in better material, to be sent off to their new owner. As I examined them one last time, I thought back to how often I played with these toys.

Most of the toys, still stored in their original boxes, looked unusually good for their age and could have passed for new.

There were a few more worn toys, but the overwhelming majority were in such good condition that the sale posts received many responses in a short period of time. While this was beneficial to someone looking for an extra dollar or two many years later, what about the past 21-22 years? Exactly *what* have those seldom-used toys done for me in that time span, even excluding the 20 years in storage?

Let’s make a list of what those toys didn’t do before we proceed. They didn’t get played with, first of all. They didn’t help me strengthen any friendships, learn anything new, or lead me to some moment of enlightenment. Despite the action features of some of the toys, I didn’t actually become a martial artist as a result of owning or playing with the toys. The transformative nature of the zords was neat, but it wasn’t as though there was a puzzle to be solved; all of the transformations were shown daily on the TV show.

The toys did offer a bit of imaginative play, but only when being played with. Simply sitting on the toy box made them glorified decorations. I do have a few decorations at my place even today, but none of them were actually intended to be anything more than a decoration. 

The toys’ biggest contribution since being stashed away in 1997, after I had gone several months without even watching Power Rangers, was to provide me with a little extra cash today.

None of this has to do with the toys themselves. Some of the Power Rangers, specifically the ones with flip heads, were indeed well-loved. The Billy figure mentioned earlier looks good to an untrained eye, but only because I was gentle with my toys. It was, along with a few others, used quite a bit, as any action figure in the hands of a third grader should be.

I am not yet a parent. While I try to avoid criticizing the parenting techniques of my own parents, grandparents, and extended family, I do have to question the purchase of large quantities of Power Rangers figures. These, of course, were found alongside other toys under Christmas trees and at birthday parties. Yes, it always seems nice to buy the huge zord set to go along with the set of rangers, but were multiple zords really needed? Yes, the rangers did change zords from time to time on the show, arguably to drive toy sales, but why bother getting all six from the new set? Is it really necessary to form the mega-ultra-falconzord every time one plays with the figures? Why not let the underrated mastodon zord work alone for a change of pace? After all, it comes as part of a set of five! Are new villains always necessary? They were made of random objects on the show, why not build new, imaginative ones from Legos?

The new owner of most of my Power Rangers is an action figure collector. He’s about my age and not someone who will actually play with these things as intended. This is to be expected from an action figure aficionado who has reached a certain age. It’s not, however, the intent for most children, especially when these things are presented as toys.

Note how I said “most” of my Power Rangers. The metallic Billy was kept, along with a full set of non-metallic flip-heads, a pink Zeo ranger, a small blue ranger figure, and a Lord Zedd--if you’re going to keep one bad guy, keep the baddest of the bad guys. This way, when I am a parent someday, I can introduce my children to my old favorite show. Note, too, that the figures I kept were the ones that actually got a lot of use as toys, not as exhibits on the toy box shelf.

Children drift away from interests over time, especially when they tire of something which always goes to a certain script. Most episodes of Power Rangers do follow the same general format. The trouble with a Power Rangers toy is that it’s relatively fixed. It’s a Power Ranger--not a Starting Lineup baseball player, a Star Wars figure, or a GI Joe. When your interest shifts from a fantasy TV show with over exaggerated fighting to real sports, the action figures get set aside, maybe coming out many years later in a burst of nostalgia or because a figure of a person happens to be needed for a physics demonstration.

Other “toys” in my life at the time were spared due to their adaptability. Crayons can draw a Power Ranger, a baseball player, or a diagram of a double helix. If Math Rabbit gets outgrown on a computer, Math Blaster can replace it. Legos can be used to construct almost anything. As the Power Rangers made their way to the storage closet, the crayons, computer, and Legos soldiered on.

In the end, I got a little money from the unused toys, enough to get me to next Thursday’s Pirates game with some left to spare. That game will be an experience to cherish regardless of the outcome, as it is the annual faith night. 

Now, let’s think about this: how much did these toys cost, which were purchased solely for the sake of buying toys and getting me into the habit of asking for them because it was all I knew? As I recall, the large zords often retailed around $40-$50. Let’s go with $50 because it’s an easy number to work with. A complete set of Power Rangers Zeo zords, of which there were six, would cost approximately $300 at that rate. What could $300 have purchased in 1996, the year the show aired, that would have been a better investment?

$300 would have been good for a pass to the local zoo, museum, history center, science center, aviary, and amusement park--with more than enough left over for a ticket to a baseball game. That’s seven great experiences right there, all for less than the cost of six dust collecting toys. 

$300 would have purchased a few nights worth of stays at a decent hotel in 1996, enough to cover a weekend somewhere with an experience or two and a accommodations at a Hampton Inn with an indoor pool. 

$300 is still more than enough, even in 2017, to cover several lessons in art, music, dance, swimming, sailing, or a sport. Imagine learning to sail or golf at nine-going-on-ten, sports which can be practiced at all ages.

In any of these cases, there would still be enough left over to buy a few small action figures. Jason and Billy versus Lord Zedd on the couch, costing only about $25 for all three? Well, as children, we do need to take time to play with toys and use our imagination...especially if only two of a six-person team show up and no giant zords are available! That, alone, could lead to a better problem solving situation, yet another case of making play a moment to build critical skills used later in life.

The buyer of my Power Rangers asked me if it was going to be difficult to part with a large collection. The only regret I have is not speaking up more as a child and asking for that trip out west in place of a full set of zords. In the end, I would have been just as happy with a handful of flip-head Power Rangers, but happier in the end because of the stories I’d remember for the rest of my life.