#I plan to post one every day till Christmas :)

[coquettecowboy]

Bluey advent calendar! Day one’s prize is Christmas sweater Bluey :D

[xappetites]

this was supposed to be a little Price thought but it got away from me and it's 1112 words

warnings: fem!reader who's decided kids aren't the best idea for her, mentions of sex and breeding kink, brief mentions of a disordered relationship w/food

“Are you still planning on children?”

It takes John a minute, in the post coital haze, to understand the question his wife whispers from the bathroom doorway, naked in the easy way of years together.

She stands there, skin reddened in the places he was just holding onto like a lifeline, and she looks at the towel in her hands instead of him. It’s steps, between them, but they turn to ice for John, a little Siberia in the middle of South East London.

“Loaded question, isn’t it, love?”

“You brought it up,” she breaks the frost, moving to settle on the edge of the bed, right next to him. Her towel is warm, he realizes, as she works it over where he’s drying itchy with sweat and cum. Barely wet and gentle on his skin.

And John knows what she means, can still feel the words on his tongue: I’ll fill you, love, fill you ‘till it takes. He doesn’t regret them, doesn’t want to regret them because it gets him there in record time, does the job so well for him that just thinking about them has his cock hardening again to the warmth and the wetness and the subtle pressure of her hands.

But that’s all it is, a fantasy that ends here, when he cums. He doesn’t spend his days imagining his wife pregnant in his daily life. In fact, now that he thinks about it, the thought’s strange, leadens his stomach with an irrational sort of anxiety. He spends too much time away, too far removed from this unstoppable woman, to think of her vulnerable and not feel a certain kind of madness tugging at the threads of his self control.

“Do you want children?”

He counters, buys time, though he knows it’s unfair to twist the question on her. They talked about it, once, before the marriage, when they felt younger and the future seemed so terribly malleable. John said it might be good to have a couple. But he didn’t want to be a Christmas dad, seeing his offspring every four to six months and have them cry in his arms because they don’t recognize a man who’s more thought than father to them.

He’d planned to retire, cut back at least, before he’d consider any children. And now he can’t, not with so much to do. He couldn’t sit by a desk and watch other people forced into the kinda shit only he —and Kyle and Soap and Simon— will voluntarily sign up for. So it’s looking more and more like it might not happen for him, and he’s comfortable with that.

But they’d agreed, back then, on an indefinite but small amount of kids. And now his wife, the one with an actual life and a home where she welcomes him, is not looking at him as he refuses to answer. Not until he hooks his fingers in the crook of her knee and smooths his thumb over her thigh. She sighs at the touch, leaves the towel in favor of drawing nonsense patterns over his stomach.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to have children, John”

He frowns, but waits in silence. There’s something sad hiding behind the fleeting smile she gives him, something guilty that makes him brace himself for movement. The impulse he’s felt since the moment he fell in love with her, to fight for her, against the world. Like he’s an attack dog, built for violent resistance in her name.

“My body feels off, some days, like I don’t belong in it. I skip breakfast sometimes, I leave the metro a station back, for the walk.”

Her voice is soft, but her eyes are unrelenting, now that she’s started. And she rushes through the admission, makes it a simple stating of facts, like making the shopping list.

“I don’t think I can survive having someone else in this body without hating them, and a baby doesn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

John’s heart balloons in the quiet of the moment. He can’t help the lopsided smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth, which he realizes isn’t a reasonable reaction. But it’s this, the clarity and the unflinching honesty, why he adores her so completely.

Whatever ache is in the confirmation of closing this particular door, outweighed by the pride of knowing she trusts him with the naked, uncomfortable truths of her. And that, John supposes, is what burns at him and he doesn’t know how to put into words when he talks about filling her up, when he thinks about breeding, in the most primal, basic sense of the kink. He just wants to make himself a part of her, wants to know her to the last little cell and live in the spaces between them.

“So if you want to have children, I think we would have to consider other options.”

That comment brings John’s focus snapping back to her hands, to the way she spins her wedding band, tugs on it until it hits the speed bump of the knuckle, a gesture he isn’t sure is conscious but that telegraphs exactly where her head is at.

“You’re all I want, love. No hypotheticals.”

“John—“

“No,” he catches her hand, pulls it back to his chest. He uses it to anchor himself, sitting up to kiss away whatever objection she’s cooking up. “I don’t say what I don’t believe in, right?”

“Right,” her stance slackens and her body tilts forward so her torso slots against his, a perfect fit.

“Won’t bring it up again, love.”

“I like it,” it’s a mumble against his neck, his jaw, that turns into kisses that follow the line of his beard. “Just wanted to let you know, in case—“

John simply hums, keeps the groan in his throat, the one she likes best; because however tempting her sweet weight is on him, he’s weighing his options for breaching the other touchy subject this impromptu conversation raised, on a cold morning in the middle of his first week home in a while.

“About the eating—“

“I have it handled,” she says, stretching and twisting until her legs end up on each side of him again, "I'm trying."

"Ok. But you'll let me know if you need something from me, right?"

She nods, pulls back from him just to grin like she's misbehaving, or just about to.

"Could I have another round for now?"

And John laughs against her until she's squirming at the feeling of his whiskers on her skin, 'cause how could he ever deny his favorite girl.

[ditttiii]

snow on the beach | i | max v.

⇢ summary: crashing into him in the middle of nowhere a day before christmas wasn’t part of your plan, but then again, spending the night with him in a car wasn’t either.

alternatively; max is the knight in shining armour no-one expected him to be. 

⇢ genre: fluff, eventual smut, sprinkles of angst along the way maybe? slow burn.

⇢ pairing: max verstappen x female reader

Chapter one || masterlist 

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ a/n: hello hi! all my f1 fics have been moved onto my sideacc @rosegasly​ and all further updates for it will be posted there. ​

drop by my ask box and let me know what you thought ♡ 

You curse for the umpteenth time, restraining yourself from swerving to avoid a particularly slippery-looking spot on the road and praying to every god and guardian angel to keep you from skidding right off the road and into the dense forest beside. Your mothers berating rings in your ear as she reams you through the phone for delaying getting the train ticket till the very last second and then failing to find any.

“Mom, I love you, but please, can we hold off this conversation until I get back?”

“You wouldn’t be driving through this terrible weather and giving your poor mother a heart attack if you had just listened when I told you to book the tickets now, would you?”

You sigh, and it’s equal parts fond and exasperated. She is right and you know you have fucked up by not buying the tickets when you should have, but being a university student, a medical one, to make matters worse, December was a busy month for you. Amidst the stress of finals, burning the midnight oil and the buzz of caffeine, there wasn’t much registered in your cognisance besides your coursework. While you recall your mother talking about the busy festive season and buying said tickets early on, much of it came in through one ear and left through the other.

Humming, you glance at the time displayed on your dashboard and cut the conversation short. Soon it would be dark and you have no desire to drive through the winter weather a day before Christmas eve and arrive back home in a body bag.

“Yes, momma, you’re right, but I really need to concentrate on driving now. I love you and I’ll call you once I am close, kay?”

She sighs through the phone and your heart melts a little inside the hollow of your chest. For all the loud and impatient she is, you know her worry comes from a place of love for you and you make a mental note to make her breakfast tomorrow to make up for it.

“Alright, I am hanging up but drive carefully and stay safe. I love you. See you soon.”

“Love you loads, see you very soon.” You end the call with an audible mwah, knowing she’ll shake her head, muttering a brat not so quietly under her breath.

Blowing through your nose, you grip the steering wheel tight, letting whatever the radio is playing fill the silence. Conscious of your driving skills, the one thing you did not want to do to close off the year is driving your ratty old car through terrible weather. Snow blanketed your surroundings, thick and white, covering the green around you into a shimmering white and if it wasn’t you driving a car that already had less drivability than most would be comfortable with, you might even have enjoyed going through the countryside, but as it stood, it took all of your concentration and a healthy dose of luck to make your way through the long stretch of slippery tarmac.

It comes out of nowhere, one moment, you are straight and the other, the grip of your rear tyres is lost and you are slipping, skidding to the other side and banging into incoming traffic. The impact isn’t as bad as it could have been since you were careful to drive slow but the sudden change of inertia still throws you off your seat, head banging against the rearview mirror before the seatbelt pulls you back into place, stinging the flesh of your chest with the force with which it sends you back, biting into the skin for hold.

A scream is caught somewhere in your chest as your vision swims, panic and shock bringing white spots ahead of you as your body grows stiff in self-defence and you wait for the world to stop moving.

The screeching of the tires is replaced by the ringing in your ears, the only thing audible through it the harsh breaths you exhale. Hands shaking you move to take them off the steering wheel and push open the door. Nausea claws at your throat, begging for a release and it’s a second too late that you realise that you still can’t control the feeling in your lower extremity as you fall onto your knees beside the opened gate of your car and heave.

Tears blur your vision, as painful retches wrack your frame but nothing comes out. You heave until your throat starts to sting, until your chest and abdomen hurt with the weight of a thousand bricks and you struggle to breathe, lack of oxygen making your head spin and suddenly you are being turned around, warmth enveloping your forearms and through hazy eyes, you see the outline of someone’s figure on their knees facing you. It takes you a moment to register the hand that is rubbing your back, and slowly things start to come back. The feeling in your arms, the cold stinging your naked skin, the burning in your abdomen, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins slowly abating as you try to ground yourself to reality.

“Are you okay?” It takes you a few tries to understand the words, and you nod, not yet trusting your voice. You aren’t sure if you are hurt, but you don’t see blood anywhere and while you do feel a little sore, whether from the receding adrenaline or the cold and shock, it’s nothing you can’t bear.

Fingers appear in front of your steadily clearing vision and you hiss, jerking back as pain erupts across your forehead.

“You’re hurt.”

You realise it’s a man before you see him by the deep baritone of his voice, picking up the fine gravel in his voice even through the howling winds. It’s his hand floating in your vision and when the pain stings and recedes yet again that you realise it’s his doing too. There is a furrow in his brows, thick and arched now creased in concern for you and had you not nearly died, you would have marvelled at the sea of cerulean that his eyes are.

Clearing your throat, you move to lean back, getting tired of him poking your forehead and making it sting more, “I’m fine.”

The hand on your back, unbeknownst to you, had sneaked up at some point and it’s the tug that brings you two close again and helps register its presence. The nape of your neck feels hot and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the accident or the warmth of his hand.

Or a noticeable blush.

You quickly squash that particular thought, throwing the remains in the furthest reaches of your mind.

“You’re bleeding.” His response is slow, almost condescending. As though you are stupid for thinking anything otherwise, and you bristle. Shrugging off his hold, this time with more force, you say, “I am fine.”

The effort of leaning back is a little too quick for your still recuperating body and your vision swims, your knees nearly slipping from under you until an arm snakes around your waist, holding you up.

The man sighs and his warm breath tickles the hollow of your neck, making you shiver. “Don’t be stubborn and sit still for a minute.”

You still bristle but having learned your lesson, you stay put and let him assess you. As much as it hurts your pride to have a man, a gorgeous one, treat you like an idiot, you are in no position to be harbouring any arrogance after the quite literal stunt you have pulled.

“Look at me,” he commands. Squashing the petulant urge to argue, you do, feeling slightly bashful at the blue of frozen ocean that stares back at you. Thin, warm fingers grip your chin, turning your face side to side as he inspects you and a vain and idiotic part of you curses internally for forgetting to apply anything on your lips. They are horribly chapped from the poor self-care routine (or lack thereof) finals month had forced them into.  

You take the time to inspect him back too. The beginning wisps of jealousy simmer in the pit of your stomach at how full and pink his are. A small tiny mole sits sunk under the deep of his skin on the top left edge of his upper lip and for some inane reason, you decide to focus on it instead of his nose or eyes or forehead like any other average person would.

You don’t know if it’s seconds or minutes later that he finally shifts away from you, breaking your silent staring contest with his lips, moving to stand. His one hand still grips your forearm, maybe not trusting you to topple over and off the road into the under bushes like a pinball knocked over by the slightest breeze.

“Can you stand?”

Blinking, you look up, seeing an outline of his silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun and nod at how broad his shoulders are. Nice.

“Can you?” he repeats, and there is a hint of impatience in his voice this time.

“I don’t know; you’re the one who asked me to sit still.” You know you are being snarky while he is just being helpful in his own jackass way, but it’s still embarrassing and you don’t want to move, talk or do anything more to make your present any more real than it already is. Maybe if you continue to sit still, the sun will rise again and you can have a do-over. Pretend none of today happened and get back home with your still ratty but in one-piece car.

He doesn’t respond to your sarcasm verbally, just tilts his head and somehow, that makes you feel even more stupid.

“Stand then.”

You can’t help the distinct feeling of resemblance to that of a dog as you follow his command, bound by your own previous words and stand on shaky legs. The ends of your feet sting like a million pins and needles are being pierced through them and you stumble right back into his arms.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He breathes against the shell of your ear and the warmth travels from your neck, flushing your cheeks—it’s entirely too cold for how warm your face feels.

You hum, nodding to indicate you have heard him, not trusting your voice to pitch and give you away.

“Hold on to me.”

Wordlessly gripping his denim-clad forearms, you follow him to the parked car beside yours. Observing the damage to its front, it doesn’t take long to add two & two and you feel a little guilty for being snarky to the man you ultimately crashed into.

“Are you hurt?” This time it’s you asking the question you would have asked much earlier had you realised who he actually was.

You feel the movement of his head and know that he’s looking at you, but don’t turn your gaze to catch his. Partly out of guilt, partway because you realise the pull his eyes have and you don’t want to be seen gazing again.

“I am fine.” He says and you nod, accepting his answer.

Opening the passenger side door of his dark SUV, he gently pushes you forward, “Sit and face this side. You are bleeding. Wait here while I get the first aid kit.”

With another nod, you climb in, sitting sideways and pulling your feet closer to ward off some of the cold the open door was letting in. You could hear your gorgeous self-appointed nurse rummaging through the trunk and you take the time to rest your head against the head support, finally breathing a sigh of relief. The realisation that this very well could have been a fatal crash for you is starting to sink in slowly and you clench your fists, wrapping your arms protectively against your middle as the sharp of your nails dig into your skin, the pain almost cathartic, a pulsing, bleeding reminder of how alive you are.

If he had been a second later on the breaks, maybe if you were an inch off more, you wouldn’t be sitting here in a stranger’s car, and perhaps you would never be able to see your mom and listen to her berate you again for getting into yet another mess. It’s morbid and disturbing, but you are glad your mother won’t have to bury you on Christmas eve.  

Coming back around, the man passes you a bottle of what you are guessing is water, “Drink.”

“Thank you,” the soft mumble could have easily been lost in the screeching winds, but nonetheless, you extend your hand to grab the offered vessel, fingers brushing the ends of his. Uncapping, you take a gulp, and two and three until you are properly chugging the water down, glad for the way it cools your dry, scratchy throat. The abating flight or fight response having left you parched.

“Easy, you don’t want to choke right now.”

“I am studying to be a doctor,” you don’t know why you say that. You know what you sound like out loud, and you won’t blame the man for thinking you are a bitch, but you can’t help the way defensiveness cloaks you like a too tight jacket and makes you lash out lest you seem vulnerable—guilty.

“And you’re a patient right now, so play nice.” There’s a smirk dancing at the seams of his lips. Contrary to your belief and guilt of him finding you troublesome, he is amused. The shadows of the setting sun caressed his skin and brought out his features. You still haven’t been able to look at him without focusing on one focal point of his face and with every passing minute, you are discovering something new about the way he looks and you wonder if it's just purely flesh and bones or if the way he acts is influencing your view.

Rolling your eyes, you keep the facade of indifference clutched close to your heart. Unwilling to slip and let this handsome stranger in, that you had apparently almost killed, to see you at your weakest.

“Alright then doc, go ahead,” you say and the smirk teasing the edges stretches into a tiny grin.

Stepping close, he grips your chin again and you note it’s gentler this time. Wetting a swab of cotton in an antiseptic, he swipes it over your wounds, methodical, small circular movements from the inside out before discarding the cotton and starting afresh with another swab. His hands are sure, the method more precise than most people who aren’t trained to give people first-aid would know, and you wonder if he is a health professional. Your earlier admission swims to the forefront and you beg anyone up there who is listening to you for it to not be true. You won’t be able to live through that embarrassment.

He blows on your skin, the exhale soft and leaving a barely there whisper of a touch but it’s still enough to make you want to jerk back—which you would have succeeded had he not been holding onto your chin again.

“Tsk,” he is looking at you, annoyed again, and you reign in the urge to kick him in the shin.

Instead of apologising, you stay still and let him finish. He is surprisingly, unbelievably gentle with you and you struggle to figure out why. Maybe he is just scared of accidentally hurting you worse?

“This might hurt so let me know if its too much,”

“Okay,”

He is quick but meticulous as he applies some disinfectant cream that you can’t read the label of with the growing shadows, but by now, you have grown a sense of respect for the man, albeit grudgingly and trust him to not screw it up.

Coughing into your fist to clear your throat, you finally introduce yourself. The water helped soothe the dryness and your voice no longer feels like a nail against the chalkboard to your ears.

It’s a bit too late for introductions, but you two haven’t met in the most normal of circumstances, so you let yourself off the hook. If he is surprised by your willingness to be civil for maybe the first time since your ill-fated encounter, he doesn’t show it.

You catch his gaze and to none of your wonder, it pins you right where you sit, twin pools of ocean under a night sky, blue speckled with the richest of green, as he replies, “Max.”

i wrote this whole thing in one sitting and my hands fkn hurt. its also 8 flippin am goddamn u max verstappen and ur stupid cute face 

till next time! ✿

[starythewriter]

KINKMAS 5 vinnie x you.

TW:sex duh, use of word slut, intense.

A/N: all of my KINKMAS stories will be posted at or BY 5PM PST! But usually they’ll be posted much sooner! But my commitment will stay the same to post everyday till Christmas!

& YES! There will be days closer to Christmas that yall will get 2 stories in ONE day! Not just one everyday. Stay tuned!

the both you end up visiting a New York event with very high class people. he had a very hot suit, while you were wearing a enticing dress with high heels.he has to keep from running his eyes all over your body (and failing). he keeps trying to convince himself that this is just one of many occasions where you’re just another girl in the crowd. but it was clearly hard, the both f you did not know what to do.

you quickly walked to talk with Jack Harlow, who was on the floor playing a game, before the next group arrived. your conversation was short and sweet. you didn’t ask for the date but at least you tried, you were a good girl. he had the same thought.

you walked into the hall, looking around. you felt someone grab your wrist.

“hey. how about you come dance with me? I’m sure your husband won’t mind.” you didn’t want to let him down by saying no. but the idea was so tempting. ‘maybe when this night ends’. your thoughts kept repeating in your head. you and Jack danced beautifully the flashing lights made it seem like a fancy ball, blue, green, pink magenta, every color was being projected across the room. it was beautiful, you shortly finished dancing and moved on to whisper seductive things into jacks ear. you could tell he was getting excited. he looked at you with such lustful eyes.

you took him into a private stall, you slowly started to grind up against him, he already knew the plan, while you were grinding against him, he reached down to his boxers and started to rub himself. he grabbed you tightly and pulled you close to kiss you passionately. you kissed back and put your hand under his shirt. you slid it up and down his chest, enjoying his reaction. he moaned, you could feel how aroused he really was. you continued the kissing until finally you couldn’t take any more. you started to bounce however, he kept rubbing harder. you got desperate and started to bite onto his neck. He pushed you back and held you there. You kept biting into his neck, which caused him to moan even louder. he pulled you up again and pressed against you. you couldn’t help but squeal because the both of you were now very much in heat. he placed you down carefully then removed his boxers, his cock was huge, you noticed, you stared up at his face, waiting for him to make eye contact with you. he lifted you up as well and brought you down hard onto him. how, you moaned, and put his boxers back on. “finish without me.”

Jack groaned loudly but got to work.

“I’ll help you”

you say In a slutty voice while you slowly rub your insides he keeps jerking off… yntill he reaches his peak. “forgive me your just too… Fucking hot.”

he came… you smiled.

“I want you to do something for me sir…”

“anything my lady…”

“give me some cash”

you got the biggest amount of cash ever…. you were surpised…as Jack gave you 100s…

you have him a kiss slipping away…

into the grasp of vinnie hacker…

“hey vin…”

“hey darling… come here I’ve been waiting for you all night… have you been ignoring me?”

you moaned. he quickly grabbed you and you both got into another stall, he quickly took his shirt off….you could see his perfect abs…..he began sucking on your breasts. you moaned in pleasure.you both fell onto the bed and he immediately started fucking you...He was so hot, and he knew it..your lovemaking was going better than ever before……”get on top of me and be my slut ok?”

“yes vin…”

you started to ride him, he was thrusting faster and deeper into you.“mmm… yes vin… please…” you whimpered and bit down hard onto his neck.. He stopped thrusting and gently stroked your hair.“that’s my girl.”“my beautiful girl…” he muttered lovingly in between kisses.. You wanted him to touch you again and he obliged, his hands were on your thighs. He lifted you up and positioned you, he entered you, he was thrusting fast and deep into you..You both groaned.. It felt amazing..he slammed his hips into you once again...and again...and again..“ohhh god!” he moaned.... You screamed out loud and climaxed inside him... you were both panting and sweating. he wrapped his arms around you tightly and started kissing your neck, softly sucking, nibbling and nipping...You sighed heavily... You loved it...You enjoyed it...

you both gave some more hmph. to eachother… vinnie laid there with his dick inside of you…

you were both just enjoying this moment.

you were happy because you knew the power you hold over men…

it make you feel so egotistical sometimes but you made sure it wouldn’t consume you, you got dressed again acting like nothing happened all night.

you walked to a big yellow table, seeing vinnie sitting across from you, all of his friends was there.

you loved the sight of him… it turned you on… you sat down next to him… his hand instantly went to your ass pulling you closer to him...“so you were mine last night huh?” he whispered into your ear, smirking and looking into your face… his fingers were running through your hair, massaging your scalp.“yeah”...you giggled…

you sat next to him since you didn’t want to sit across from him.

you both ate, after a while you both finished talkign dancing and doing some deals.

you both went home and took a nice long bath, and then fell asleep!

the end!

[okeiglxg]

Day 3 of recommending 5 fics about JLA meets batfam with a plus one! 🤍

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On the First Day of Christmas the DCU Sent to Me … A Hijacked Space Station by aestorian

- 3,385 words, 1 chapter, completed

-no ships

Summary- "The candle will burn."

If the Justice League didn't want people coming to the Watchtower than they should have upped their security. It wouldn't have saved them from the batfamily on a kidnapping mission, but that's neither here nor there

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52282147

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Paranoia by BoredomBeckons

- 21,646 words, 14 chapters, completed

- no ships

Summary- Batman trusts the newest Justice League recruit almost instantly.

This is so out of character, it makes the rest of the team suspicious.

Who is this Nightwing, and what is he up to?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40571238?view_full_work=true

---------------------------

Illogically? By Kiwiles01

- 5,825 words, 1 chapter, completed

- dick grayson/ wally west, clark kent/ bruce wayne

Summary- The boy looked up and stopped writing instantly.

"Dad!" Exclaimed the boy, who seemed to be scared and pale. "Oh God"

"Dad?" Lantern gasped, staring at the Flash with his mouth open. “Did he call him dad?”

“Impossible,” Flash denied. “We imagine it”

Or when the Justice League meets the Batfamily and they think that Nightwing and Batman are a married couple with kids.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50032252

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Gotham will survive by anonymous so no user

- 2,564 words, 1 chapter, completed

- no ships

Summary- The Metropolis was under attack. Clark was grateful that most of the hero community got together to help him. He just didn't except to learn that Gotham was being attacked too with almost double the forces and Batman left the city alone to fend for itself.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48949135

-----------------------------

What's in the cape? By Peppermint_Tree_Prince

- 5,038 words, 1 chapter, completed

- no ships

Summary- Batman hides the secrets of the universe in his cape. Hals is sure of that. Now he just has to convince the rest of the League.

There really is something in Batman's cape this time, but he's determined to Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss, his way out of answering questions.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47987695

----------------------

Plus one!

Of Birds, Rich Boys & Superpowered Teens by cherryousama

- 63,128 words, 19 chapters, completed

- no ships

Summary- Dick Grayson, older brother to three insufferable younger brothers (who he loves very much) and Gotham City's most eligible bachelor (or was it second? He didn't really keep track). Of course he had plans for a fine Saturday night.

Getting called out by Gotham's own maniacal terrorist—The Joker; yes, the Joker—on national television, was not one of them.

If that wasn't bad enough, now the Joker had all of Gotham City's criminals—or more than half of the population—right under his thumb. And you guessed it; now all of them are out to get the Wayne brothers!

But the Wayne boys are more than just pretty faces and pockets overflowing with money; they are the Batman's protégés, the elusive elite band of vigilantes who fight crime and protect the city every night.

With all of Gotham's worst criminals after them though, protecting their secret identities will be a challenge. So Batman has decided to call in the Young Justice team to help protect his sons.

The Young Justice team came in expecting to be protecting some rich kids who had the misfortune to catch the eye of the Joker.

What they hadn't been expecting was the utter chaos that was the Wayne household.

-young justice protects the wayne boys

- no identity reveal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21013910?view_full_work=true

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Thats all! I still have more to post so maybe it can go on till day 7 or 8. Like the post for more and dont forget to reblog🤍

Have a good day/night

[blue-disco-lights]

One Year as a Beta!

@gallavich-fic-club said Sprinkle Some Joy on our writers this month, so I thought I'd compile all the incredible stories I've had the chance to help beta over the last year! It's been such a great experience and I've loved meeting and working with all of you!

✨ === ✨ Fics Below! ✨ === ✨

🌟 Miss_SnowWhitePink ~ @look-i-love-u

Puppy Love: People say nothing good happens after two a.m. Mickey's life experiences have told him that this rumour is very much true. At least till now - Enter a cute puppy which turns Mickey's life upside down and changes it for the better...

Sirens: Being an EMT during the holiday season is bad enough without having a TV crew watching his every step, so Ian hates everything about his superior`s new project. Including the members of the crew. At least till he sees the guy manning the huge camera as if it weighs nothing and isn't afraid to speak his mind...

🌟  IanGalagher ~ @ian-galagher

Africa: When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true. The two are off on a wild adventure but there's something mysterious about Mickey who seems to be holding more to his chest than just the tricks of the trade Ian had hoped to learn from him.

🌟 Pink_Ink ~ @palepinkgoat

The Ink is a Witness to This: six chapters about the stories tattoos can hold and hide.

🌟 tooschoolforcool95 ~ @too-schoolforcool

Ghosts of a South Side Christmas: After a fight on Christmas Eve, Mickey and Ian spend some time apart. Mickey gets a little hope and learns to be brave while Ian learns more about his crush.

🌟 sam_writes_fics ~ @sam-loves-seb

you make my dreams come true: post-canon: ian and mickey host their first thanksgiving

🌟 sweetbee78 ~ @sweetbee78

The Reunion: ... The ski resort that the reunion is held at looses power, Ian and Mickey are then sharing close quarters. Ian does tell him what had happened after high school; they agree to start over. Mickey finds out Ian was originally planning on hooking up with someone else...

Not So Secret Santa: Ian and Mickey are co-workers and are each other’s Secret Santa. Mickey is a manager at a financial company while Ian is a temp who was hired to work in the call centre.

🌟 NotAWriterButITry

What If?: What if Mickey was released from prison in season 7 instead of escaped? What if Ian found out because he got a call to the Milkovich house and Mickey turned out to be their patient? What if Ian has to choose between his new life with Trevor, or his old life with Mickey?

🌟 commonthugs ~ @stocious

lava java: He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.

🌟 MaySunshine ~ @honeyvanillin

Apple Tart and Salted Caramel: Stoneridge is a small but very picturesque town on the edge of the state. Surrounded by majestic mountains to the north, icy ocean waters to the west and impenetrable forests to the east, it is safely sheltered from tourists and GPS....

All Roads Lead to Rome: This story is about the breath of life with the berry aftertaste of Passito di Pantelleria wine, about the transience of time with lemon notes of magnolia blossoms, about the thrill of first kisses with the cool sweetness of creamy Gelato.

Lead the Way, Jedi: "Me?" the mechanic exhaled, mostly surprised that the Jedi had chosen to entrust him, a throwback from the filthy depths, with his droid buddy. "I'm sure you, proud droid dad, can handle it just fine. It's no big deal."

🌟 Itsuki59 ~ @shinygalaxyperson

Where is my Jell-O?: A conversation about the past makes our boys horny.

On His knees: Day 11 - “Open your mouth.” Ian definitely wants to try the glory hole. (Gallavich Kinktober 2022) Home at last: Day 29 - punishment X “Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me"Ian wants to spend some quality time with his husband (Gallavich Kinktober 2022)

You are Mine: Usually, I don’t care about humans. I hunt them, bite them, kill them and throw them away in some sordid place. But not him. I don’t know what makes Mickey Milkovich so special.

🌟 roseapothecarys ~ @babygirlmickey

Designs on You: At twenty-four, Ian has just moved out of his family home to live on his own for the first time. Working as a paramedic, he’s finally happy, stable, and moving forward with his life. But first, there’s one last remnant of his past self that he needs to let go of: his accidental porn tattoo of his late mother. It’s nothing but a reminder of all the bad decisions he’s made. At his best friend Mandy’s behest, he makes an appointment with her brother who has just opened a tattoo shop nearby. Upon arriving for his consultation, he meets Mickey: intimidating, foul-mouthed, overall living up to the Milkovich name, yet somehow running a clean, professional, and legal business.

[gay-jewish-bucky]

Do they do gifts for hanukkah? When do they give them to each other ?

So, after doing some research, it looks like Hanukkah gifts (which developed in response to the increased commodification of Christmas in the 19th century) didn't really gain popularity until the 1950s, prior to that gelt was most commonly given.

The second way we can understand gift-giving as a Jewish custom is with the introduction of Hanukkah gelt in Europe during the 18th century. Many believe this custom developed because of the etymological connection between Hanukkah and education. Chinuch (education) shares the same Hebrew root (Chet/nun/chaf) as Chanukah (dedication). For this reason, education and specifically Torah study became a central practice during Hanukkah. (x)

Dianne C. Ashton, Director of American Studies at Rowan University and author of Hanukkah in America: A History, explains that the trend of exchanging Hanukkah gifts really took off in the 1950s. At this time, Jewish child psychologists as well as rabbis started promoting gifts as a way to make post-Holocaust Jewish kids happy to be Jewish, rather than sad about missing out on Christmas. (x)

So, this tradition would be new to them post-war.

I think before the war, the Barnes family would use the excuse of Christmas to preform tzedakah and give Steve and Sarah things they needed without causing them guilt or shame (like how they'd sell them their hametz during Passover and insist they eat it). Gifts like sweaters, hats and scarves, socks, warm blankets, preserved foods... things that would help them get through the bitter New York winters in their drafty tenement.

I think Steve and Bucky are introduced to modern Hanukkah gift-giving by Bucky's family, when the two return to America from Wakanda.

In Bucky's family they give a single present each night, starting small on the first night and moving up from there.

That first Hanukkah back state-side, when Bucky is finally with his family again, Steve has a plan for the first night, which he carries out with the help of Bucky's elderly sisters.

In Irish tradition the claddagh is given from mother to her eldest daughter, Sarah Rogers never had a daughter, but she was a smart woman. Before she passed, she left her ring with the Barnes family for safekeeping, knowing in her heart Steve and Bucky would need it one day.

After the candles are lit everyone gives each other their present.

Bucky's gift for Steve is the sketchbook he had when they were at the front. Steve breaks down, he hadn't seen it since before he went into the ice.

Once all the other gifts are handed out, Steve gives Bucky his.

Inside the small necklace box is Steve's Ma's claddagh, hanging from a silver chain, Bucky's eyes widen and start to glisten when he realizes what he's looking at, and Steve asks Bucky to marry him,

'I once said even when I had nothing, I had you... that's as true today as it was when I was just that little guy from Brooklyn, you were the only one who saw me back then and you were the first one to see through the serum.

I love you Buck, I always have, even if it took us a while to get our heads out of our asses.

It feels like every time I lost you, no matter how that destroyed me, fate was determined to give us another chance to get it right.

And, well... we always promised each other 'till the end of the line', so I think it's time we made it official, really get it right this time... would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?'

Bucky says yes, of course he does, there is a lot of happy crying and mazel tovs, and Bucky kisses Steve all over his stupid face after Steve clasps the chain around his neck.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Nine

I huddle behind the till with Petra on the last Friday before Christmas, watching as she tallies up the till for the final time before the new year. 

“Okay, so we sold five of these, three of those, and the last eight of those ones… and I’ll have to check the books again but I think I sent twelve to the post office today.” I glance over her shoulder at the long receipt that’s been spit out of the till to confirm. “So that’s almost all of them sold?”

She glances over to the card rack on the wall nearby. “Everything except for, I think, four?”

“Wow.” I say. “I can’t believe people actually wanted them.”

“Oh for goodness sake!” She grins. “Of course they did, you did a beautiful job on those cards. You should be very proud.”

I blush. “I actually am.”

Petra empties the last of the till coins into a plastic bag and locks it into the safe for the bank. “Well you can enjoy the money, my dear, and enjoy your christmas. Have you planned to do anything nice?”

“The usual. I’ll just go to my granny’s house and we’ll have dinner with my aunts and uncles and cousins. We just found out that my uncle’s wife is pregnant again, so that’s something to chat about at the dinner table.”

“Sounds lovely.” She muses, and I suppress a grimace as I zip up my coat. “Yeah, well, have a safe flight home to Spain. I hope you have better weather than we do here.”

“Me too.” She says. “Happy New Year, since I won’t see you before then.” I smile and let myself out onto the dark of the early evening street as the jaunty little bell jingles in the door behind me. 

Luke, who owns the coffee shop across the street, is closing his shutters too, and gives me a quick wave and a “merry Christmas, Evie.” as he covers up the window art I did for him a few weeks ago. He liked what I’d done for Mezzotint so much that he asked me to do one for him too. I went out on a limb and asked him for one hundred euros for it, and he paid it without batting an eyelid. All of that money has gone towards Christmas presents, as for the first time in years I’ve been able to afford them. I hop on the Luas and ride it towards the centre of town. It’s jammed with commuters in big coats, the windows fogged up and dripping with condensation. The lights outside blur together through the fog. 

I get off at Jervis Street onto pavement that’s still wet with the rain from earlier and wander up towards Henry street, where I buy a hot chocolate from the crepe and coffee kiosk that’s still open, just because I want one, and then head towards Arnotts where I walk around looking at fancy things that I cannot afford for half an hour, just for the sake of doing it. There are discounted Christmas decorations in one section, and I’m drawn to a pair of pink feathered ones with silver beads laced along the ribbons. On sale, they are ten euros each but I buy both of them anyway, because Claire would love them. 

On the way out I go to the perfume section and spray Tom Ford on myself. The shop assistant smiles at me like she thinks I might want to buy it, but I avoid eye contact. I will never own perfume like this. I bring my wrists to my nose and inhale the complicated aroma as I head back onto the maniacal December crowds, imagining for a moment how satisfying it must feel to smell like two hundred euro perfume every day, to know that you can throw money at something frivolous, just because you like the smell of it. 

When I arrive home, Claire is in her pyjamas and eating a bowl of plain pasta on the couch. She grins at me as I come in and asks me if I want to binge some Christmas films. It feels like a perfect way to spend our last night of the year together before we go back to Tullamore tomorrow. I go upstairs and put on something comfortable. I don’t really have pyjamas in the way that Claire does. Hers are always matching, satin with lace trims, flannel with pockets and buttons down the front, but I don’t have anything like that. Perhaps it says something about my personality. I grab an ancient vest and a pair of jersey shorts and head down to the couch, stashing the wrapped feathered baubles into my half-packed suitcase to give to her tomorrow. 

First we watch Miracle on 34th street, because we watch that every year, and then inevitably we put on Love Actually, just to scream about how much we hate every single character except for Sam, and we drink more hot chocolate and eat sweets from a tub until I feel sick. As the credits roll I glance over to her to see a glazed expression on the face. She’s gazing through the window at nothing. Blackness, the sky clouded over leaving no space for the stars to peek through them.

“Are you alright?”

“Mm. Yes.”

I shift in my seat. “I’ve been meaning to ask how things have been with Shane, you know, like, with his college work and the football and all that.”

“Oh, it’s fine. The usual. I don’t think we’ve made any progress, to be honest.”

“And his Christmas exams?”

“I don’t have a clue. He barely studied for them so he’s probably failed them, for all I know.”

“Oh.”

She looks at me then, brows furrowed and voice defensive. “I love him, you know. I still love him. I won’t like, break up with him or anything.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“Things will get better. All couples go through this kind of thing. It’s what happens when you’ve been together for three years, things just feel a bit less perfect than they used to, and you have to make compromises. Really though, I love him. I’d do anything for him.”

I wonder if it’s only my projection that she sounds a bit like she’s trying to convince herself of those things, not me. “I’m sure the exams went fine.” I say, even though I’m not sure. On every run and every gym session I’ve been to with Shane in the last few months he hasn’t mentioned college once. His twenty-five-grams-of-protein yoghurts and his various friends who injured themselves in various ways from using the machines wrong (like me), he’s mentioned plenty of times, but unless I knew for a fact that he was in college, I’d assume he didn’t go. 

Claire is frustrated. “I wish he’d just get it together. That’s all. I’m sick of feeling like I’m nagging him, but it really just feels like common sense… oh!” her phone springs to life on the table in front of us, vibrating loudly against the wood. “I bet this is him now, speak of the devil.” She flips it over in her hand and her brows knit together with confusion. “Oh, it isn’t.”

“Who is it?”

“Um. It’s Jude.” She brings it slowly to her ear, as though it might bite her. “…hello?”

It’s quiet enough in the room to hear his side of the conversation. “Hey. Hey Claire. I’m so sorry to call you. Are you with Shane at the moment?”

Her face screws up. “No. I amn’t, I’m at home with Evie.”

“Ah, right. Do you know if he’s around? I tried to call him a few times and there was no answer.”

“He’s in Tullamore. He’s gone home for Christmas already, he had training at the pitch at seven, sorry.” She glances at the clock in the kitchen. “It’s also almost midnight. I imagine he’s asleep by now.”

“Right, okay. That’s fine… uh. Sorry to call you, I better-”

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing, I’m just home in Dublin for the next week. I misplaced my house keys, I was hoping to crash at his.” A pause. “And also like, maybe because he has a car I was thinking he might be able to drive me to A&E.”

“What?” I exclaim. Claire’s eyes are wide. She doesn’t know what to do. I take the phone. “Jude.” I say. “It’s Evie.”

“Hi Evie, how’s it going?”

“What happened?”

“No, no, no, nothing big, it’s not a big deal, I just might need a couple of stitches.”

“Stitches where?”

“My-” He breaks away and sucks air through his teeth, muttering “Jesus, fuck” under his breath. “- my eyebrow. It’s fine. It can wait, I can just get a taxi back to Clontarf and get my parents to let me in. Hopefully they’re still awake.” He sounds doubtful. “Sorry to disturb you, seriously. I’ll work it out.”

“For God’s sake.” Claire grabs the phone again. “Come here. We can’t drive you to the hospital but we can clean you up. I at least have a first aid kit. Where are you?”

“The docks.”

“You’re only a few minutes away. Can you walk to us?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” She gives him our address and they hang up, then she sits there in disbelief, shaking her head. “Bloody men.” She says. “I’m exhausted.” She gets up and heads towards the stairs. 

“Where are you going?” I ask her. 

“To put on a bra.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[thegirlwondcr]

Low-ish activity notice!

Till after Christmas expect some low activity on this blog. I plan on queuing replies so there’s a reply posted a day but no guarantee. I’ll be busy with festivities and also my mental health has been a bit AJSKSJDN lately so thank you for your patience :,) I love every single one of my threads, my energy is just very low rn

[fenneckitsune]

Its almost time for my yearly eggvent calendar! While ive missed posting forum threads about it in the past few years due to IRL stuff, i do plan to get one up and running this year!

For those of you who are not in the know or are new here, over the course of the year I collect 25 eggs to save and hatch every day up till Christmas! Everyones free to scry the new hatch of the day and come the next day, a favourite scry of mine is showcased!

Then as a christmas gift to everyone, all hatches from the calendar are up for grabs!

If this sounds like something that’d interest you feel free to put your username and ID in the tags or replies so I can compile a pinglist. Ideally i will also post the hatches here but it’ll be much more casual

[backtothestart02]

Merry EXmas - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Based loosely off the EXmas movie that recently came out. I was hoping I'd get it done in time for Christmas, but that's highly unlikely. Hope I'll at least get a couple more updates in this month though.

...

Synopsis: AU - The break-up was brutal, but ending up in the same house for the Christmas holidays was a gut-punch neither of them saw coming.

...

Chapter 1 -

Barry waited at their candlelight kitchen table for over an hour, watching the wax drip down the candlesticks before he realized it would be another late night for Iris. It didn’t matter that it was their four-year anniversary. It didn’t matter that his grandmother’s engagement ring had been burning a hole in his pocket, and he’d finally figured out the right time and place to pop the question. He wondered if she’d even noticed the love notes he’d stuck on post-its in her most frequented places. Or if she’d be happy at all to see the puppy she’d been melting over for the past month every time she passed the pet shop on her way to work and told him after about it. The little dog was named Muppet at the store, but he was sure Iris would find a cuter name for it.

He’d been so excited for all of it.

But rounding on nine p.m. for the third night that week, Barry knew he had to face facts. This relationship they had going was no longer a priority for her, and as much as he loved her, he couldn’t keep draining his energy hoping she’d look his way for longer than a second the few conscious moments they shared together in a day.

So, he packed his things, enough for a week, and wrote a goodbye note. He’d planned to leave his key there, but he’d need it to grab the rest of his stuff when she was working throughout the next week, so he tucked it in his pocket, set the puppy in a box on the chair he’d vacated and left the house he’d thought they’d live out the rest of their lives in, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He’d make his way to his parents’ place across town. They’d let him stay for a while till he found a new place. They’d understand. They loved Iris like a daughter, but they’d been understanding for a while now. Even the extended family had been counting down the days for when he’d finally cave and give up on love.

What a start to summer.

…

Iris checked the time in the car before shutting it off.

11:03 p.m.

She winced and turned the key, gathering her purse and the late-night take-out she’d grabbed on her way home. Her first thought was Barry was not going to be happy. Her second was that she might not have to deal with that till morning, because he’d probably gone to bed. She felt guilty about that thought. Guilty that she wasn’t looking forward to speaking with her long-time boyfriend because all their conversations had turned either one-sided or full-on fighting lately.

She knew she was partly to blame, but he had to understand that she loved her job, and she worked hard at it. And the facts were, she was mostly paying the bills. He worked his cute little CSI job at the precinct with her dad, but it was nowhere near enough to cover everything. He had to understand that what she was doing wasn’t just for her but for them.

When she turned the key in the lock and was greeted by complete silence and the faint aroma of cold food, she immediately regretted her thoughts.

“Oh, shit.”

It was their anniversary tonight. Not the anniversary of their first date or the day she said yes to him moving in with her, but their first kiss, which happened before both of those prior events.

“Barry?”

A rough bark came from a box with a bow on it that suddenly jumped on one of the kitchen chairs.

Iris’ eyes widened.

“No way.” She gasped and flipped on the light switch, revealing the sad-looking dinner set-up, long ago gone cold and the jumping box that she quickly untied and opened as fast as she could. “No way! No way! No way!”

The puppy jumped into her arms, instantly taking to her.

“Muppet?!”

She held the pup away from her long enough to see the tag on its collar. Sure enough, it said ‘Muppet’.

“Oh, my god. Well, we’ll be changing that name. Won’t we little one?”

She nuzzled its face and giggled as it licked her cheek.

“Barry?” She called again. “God, he must be asleep. Let’s go find him.” She proceeded to talk in a baby voice. “Let’s go find the best boyfriend ever!”

She hefted the pup into her arms and carried it throughout the house as she called for Barry till she reached their bedroom. She frowned when the bed was made, and he wasn’t in it.

“Well, that’s…weird.”

She saw his drawers were partway open on his dresser and walked over to them. When she drew them out, her heart nearly stopped when she found half of the contents gone. She carried the pup to the bathroom and found his toiletries gone.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.”

Her heart pounding, she went to every room in the house. He wasn’t anywhere. And when she peeped into the garage, his car was gone.

“Not even a note, Bartholomew?” She raged angrily, walking back into the kitchen. “Not even a god forsaken note?!”

Her heels echoed on the wood floor, and from the edge of the table floated a scrap of note paper.

Iris’ eyes zeroed in on it, afraid to walk any closer but knowing she had to. She set the whimpering pup down and picked up the piece of paper, her fingers trembling.

Iris,

I’m so sorry you had to find out this way, but I couldn’t bare to face you for what I have to say.

Her fingers lifted up to her lips.

It’s just not working out. I love you so much, and I planned our whole life, but it’s not the life you want or deserve. I hope you can forgive me for not having the strength to wait for you to be ready for me.

She scoffed. “Ass.” But she was sniffling.

I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff while you’re working over the next week, and then I’ll leave my key on the kitchen table. Hope you enjoy the puppy.

Barry

P.S. Dog food and other doggy things are in the pantry.

The note fell from her fingertips, and she glared at the table.

“Didn’t even put away the food,” she snarled. “He left me, and he took his stuff, but he couldn’t even bother to- He must’ve known I’d be home late, and-” She frowned, gutted. She supposed that was entirely the point.

She took the two plates and scraped the food into the trash, her appetite gone. And besides, she had take-out.

If the man wanted to break up with her and couldn’t even do it to her face, then she had every right to throw his attempt at an anniversary celebration in the trash too.

She opened the pantry door and found bowls and food and toys for the dog, along with a leash and a second collar.

“No crate for potty-training, I see.”

The puppy whimpered.

“Well, I suppose we can get through one night together, can’t we?”

The puppy barked, then went into the pantry and grabbed a squeaky toy and ran off with it.

Iris sighed and filled up the food and water bowl before setting them where she wanted them in the kitchen.

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be getting any sleep tonight anyway. Screw you, Barry Allen. Screw you.”

[stry-someone-to-remember-you]

HAPPY NEW YEARS EVERYONE!!!!

Since I didn't finish my New Years Post or Christmas post in Time this year, I thought I'd share old art work for Charles before I turned this series into an into an Original Web Comic that would only be inspired by the Henry Stickmin series. It's now more a comic that only is nodding its inspiration to Henry Stickmin series, due to the direction the story has since gone, it was the best decision for this comic.

If you will like a Sneak Peak of say the look the character inspired slightly by Charles looks like, let me know and I'll make a new post.😁😉😊

***Please Note This is only what the 1st First Draft of what Charles looked like in the comic. There was a whole different face I gave him like a month or two after this first draft was made. But otherwise everything else about the body and clothes stayed the same. The newer face was more human actually, while retaining the stickman look.***

For example I have two of my favorite characters to write and draw for, having used them in my proof of concept recently, if you wish I'll take a pic and I dare you to guess who the two characters were in game.

After two years working on this diligently, it made me realize it was better becoming it's own work. I have another Henry Stickmin series that was my original HS Comic plan I created circa around 12/4/2020.

Occures after Valiant Hero.

Charles moved on, a true Hero & Guardian of Heaven despite the inmesne heartache of his regrets. He as an angel, should be satisfied and at peace, right?! But this clawing ache of the regret wouldn't relent. The pain it festered and even corrupted his otherwise at peace soul. Be careful what you wish.

A normal retrieval mission after a storm, becomes the answer to his sinful greed. When tragedy befalls a group after a freek helicopter accident, the opportunity of his Afterlife presented itself-hellbent, call him a fool... he was taking it! The chance this dying pilot was giving up! Despite the argument of his unit... He was Going to live again!

However, Heaven isnt to kind to those who reject its gifts.

This.... this isn't right!

Staring his bandaged body in the eyes, he knew this was an utter mistake!

This body isn't the pilots. No, Chalres woke in the form of the copilot-a woman who for the life of her HATES flying with an immeasurable passion-the "forced copilot" of the tragic group. If only she moved on like SHE was supposed to! Now forced to cohabituate Her body, Roger Chance is forced to aid this disasterous pilot who took over her life or run the risk of being expunged from the world of the living for good.

Living together may prove dangerous for both of them. Enemys of his past arent so easily fooled! By living again, Charles may have doomed them both. Those he killed aren't to keen on letting the opportunity slide, this time.

Danger is around every corner, what's worse is the Death looming in the smiling shadows. Figures of a bygone era are on the hunt, for the man who brought them ruin. Can they trust the shadows around them & those they love?! Or will they find themselves the mice thrown into the cats maze?!

Find out in the Heroic continuation of the tragic ending Valiant Hero-Their Valliant Seconds!

Death is Their End & Their Chance He bought-Take advantage of Your Time, Before your Seconds Run Out!

I'll be Posting more on here and Instagram of progress in the coming weeks.

I will re-open questions eventually for questions about the work or for author note sections when I take a breaks now and after I get the comic out. But otherwise, this will no longer be an ask comic, but I'll have segments for characters to answer asks or to discuss events and the process if asked.

Till then have an AWESOMLY SWEET DAY!!!!

Happy New Year Everyone!!!! Hope it's one amazing year for you!!!

[babytowntm]

last day on the job for winter break!

I'm done working for this month. My boss was as nice and told me I could consider this my last day before winter break starts (originally I was supposed to be working till wednesday). She has an appointment on wednesday and doesn't know how long it will take, and since I am not allowed to embroider products by myself she told me to go home today and enjoy my break.

She even gifted me a giant fuzzy blanket as a christmas present so I guess silver linings. Though my last entry was very bleak and maybe depressing a little bit, I wanted to post something uplifting.

Today was a really good day. Good work, nice presents, got a nap in and am eating lasagna.

Today was good. I'm currently talking to my friends on discord, we're planning to meet up for some new years celebration at the end of the month. I am really excidet.

I think I'll survive christmas though. It's gonna be tiring, but I guess sometimes you just have to suck things up.

Hopefully my next entry will be just as pleasant.

Also! I got my boyfriend a small christmas present. They're coupons for adventures he and I can go on (originally I wanted to gift him a hoodie with his gamer tag embroidered in the front, but due to time management I wasn't able to place an order for christmas).

I might delete my last entry. I don't want my diary to be so sad. Maybe I'll just keep the sad and frustrating parts in my actual diary under my desk.

I wish every single one of you who's reading this a merry celebration this saturday, merry christmas and hopefully a better new year.

[foreverpining]

Backstory (10th Grade Part 1 [I'm sorry there's a lot this year])

So summer came and we spent quite a bit of that together as well. They even went to one of my therapy appointments with me and met my therapist. At this point things were starting to get a little more heated between us. They'd lost their virginity already although I had not. We came really close a couple times that summer at my aunt's house while everyone was busy, in my room when they'd got there but my mom didn't know yet to keep an eye on us. School came again and as always it comes with struggles. None so much as 9th grade brought our friendship tho. We'd sit in the afternoons after school discussing the future how we'd move out and get an apartment together as soon as we could. We even with the ever growing closer act of sexuality discussed possibilities for if a certain surprise were to happen even tho I was on birth control. We spent their birthday on the couch in the living room of my parents house I had made them cookies to take home as a birthday present. Just a few days later he was back over for Halloween but our planned event was cut short by my existential crisis about growing older so we decided instead to go trick or treating one final time. It was the last time I trick or treated and I'd honestly go so far as to say my favorite we wondered through neighborhoods going house to house until it was far too late and everyone was out of candy. They had braces so when we got back to my house to trade candy till their dad got there they ended up giving me pretty much everything they got and left with a left chocolate candies at my insistence. We at least one day together every week that whole year leading up to the big event of 2018 Christmas. The Christmas I'll never forget. We discussed it and both of our families celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve so we decided we could spend the day together. Now I haven't actually noted this yet but a big barrier of us making it to third base was my mom was a helicopter mom and she was constantly checking in on every few minutes. Well she had agreed to my bestie spending Christmas with us rather far in advance but when the day actually came she ended up being sick. Since she'd already agreed she still let my bestie come over. When they got there the first thing we did was I excited gave them their presents. A T-Shirt from the show The Flash off the CW and a little Iron Man plush, because my bestie really loves comics. Actually side note years ago around this time they made a tumblr and most of what they posted on it was shower thoughts and Batman AUs. Back to the story my bestie didn't really have money to get me anything so they'd written me a note that I actually lost sadly so I can't show you but it was really sweet and gave me like a dollar and some change which I ended up taking to the dollar tree and buying a little teddy bear and told them that would be their gift to me. I let them name it and they named her Aurora. So we were sitting in there after that completely unsupervised and one thing lead to another and we went all the way on that fateful Christmas day. After we finished we cuddled on the couch ate some leftover Christmas foods from my family's celebration the day before. Then their dad got there to pick them up I expressed to them I was really sad for them to leave and since they'd changed into the shirt I'd gifted them they gave me the one they had came to my house wearing that day. I have taken that shirt to psych wards because it feels like it gives this comfort only their energy does. After that the rest of winter break seemed to fly by but something felt off. It felt like my bestie was trying to distance their self from me. I didn't think too much of it cause we would have a class together the next semester of school. Sadly my dear reader I do have to tell you this is where our story takes a dark path for a while, from the other side I will tell you it becomes lighter with time. Sorry have to make pt 2 10th grade was a lot.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I always hate it when the nurse or one of the aides comes in the room while I’m talking to Mom. They never acknowledge she’s on the phone, and just start talking at her while we scramble to try to get in our goodbyes.

She has never been good at having her attention be divided between two conversations (me neither!) but post stroke it is sooo much worse. When she isn’t having a good day she gets locked on the person in the room and we never get to say goodbye.

Today was a great day.

On the plus side it meant that Mom was able to firmly, but politely, tell the woman that she was on the phone and then do our goodbyes.

On the negative side, I only got 8 minutes of Mom on a great day!

And TBH, I needed her today.

Yesterday was rough as heck: utterly exhausting, painful, full of incidents, some good and some terrible. I’d lain awake till about four in the morning fretting over things. I’d looked forward to talking to her even more than usual.

If she was having a good day I’d get to talk things over with the one person in the world that loves me.

If she was having a bad day at least I’d get to vent in my monologue to her.

She was having a GREAT day, and I didn’t even get a chance to get to substance of yesterday. All I got was “Oh, you remember the old couple that ran the Chinese place? I saw them at Walmart, and they were just as friendly as ever**!” Followed by memories of them, and their restaurant, and me rehashing the conversation, and…in comes the nurse.

So now I’m stuck stewing on yesterday, worrying about the future, and reflecting on “everything” all in my own head. It gets cluttered and noisy in there!

Don’t say “Just keep a journal. I have written in a journal every single night since I was a teenager. Last night I spent almost 2 hrs writing! Writing may be better than nothing, but it’s just my head extending to paper. It doesn’t clear the clutter, but shoves it around.

Talking to someone can at least offer banal reassurance or encouragement, validation of feelings. A person can offer a sense of support when you need the help to hold yourself up.

Merely thinking is staggering along, wounded. A journal is having a stick to help you limp. A person to talk to is having someone to lean against. Having someone to actually keep you from falling when you are stumbling can make a world of difference.

Anyway, damn it, I needed Mom today. I know one day, sadly not too far off, I won’t have her at all. But today she is alive, and herself, and had the energy let me lean on her a little. I feel cheated!

** It was a family run restaurant in the next town over. We got on great with them, and were regulars. They sent us a Christmas card, we sent them a Lunar New Year card. Early on a nasty, evil rumor went around of them serving cat (because someone saw their pet cat in a cat carrier when they were moving homes!), and we stuck by them, so I think that started the special friendliness.

They retired probably ten years ago now, and their kids didn’t want to struggle along in a restaurant. The last time I saw them was maybe five or six years ago, when Mom and I were shopping in Walmart. They rushed over then, like I rushed over now.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t planned what to say, and in my excitement I was talking fast. English isn’t their language. They know a little, but not nearly enough to deal with someone yammering on like me. I could tell that even the wife, whose English is much better, was getting maybe 1/5 of what I was saying, but I couldn’t calm down my talking.

I think it’s because I’ve been trained to feel a yawing silence as a dead conversation, a sign that the person I’m talking to really wishes I would go away. (A real problem if you are of the local outcast family). On some level I feel like if I can just say the right thing I can keep the conversation going, like that old plate spinning trick. It’s on me to know how to engage and when to end a conversation. It’s like, no one really wants to talk to me, but if I can find the magic words they will happily talk, and everyone wants to be polite and not cut off the talking, so it’s up to me to find a way to end it at exactly the right moment and way to leave the chat a pleasant encounter.

Anyway, delighted as I was to see the couple, I spent plenty of time kicking myself for not handling it right. Well, until more urgent problems overtook my internal review circuits!

[bad-knees]

happenings / on my mind

1. i think i might have adhd, and i want to see someone about it to get a proper diagnosis. apparently it’s a common thing for trans women to uncover it once they get on hrt. plus my life has been dizzying with decisions / plans / wondering about this and that. my fears are about being seen as a drug seeker or a hypochondriac. But im tired of being scared about what people might think about me.

2. taking nudes, sending nudes to friends. not even sexual, just aesthetic, happy about my body, the curves and smooth. and the glow after working out.

3. thinking about ffs but i should wait. my work health insurance covers it so im wondering if i should speed run that. when the lighting’s right and im in the right mood, i kinda like the shape of my face. im looking more indian and i love it.

4. using femme voice a lot more, though im not so sure how femme it really is. mostly practice via vrchat. i should post to the trans voice subreddit for feedback.

5. trying to lose belly. cardio every day for 30-60min. also doing leg strength stuff because it helps with the knee pain. i want to lose belly fat so i can gain weight again and it goes to my chest and hips instead. also cardio is just good for my brain.

6. wanting to cook more, trying to at least. wanting to eat good food without having to resort to icky unhealthy restaurant food. want to eat more potatoes. want to learn how to make chicken curry.

7. told my boss im trans. it was awkward haha.

8. want to get the ball rolling with bottom surgery, given how long waitlists can be. though nervous since i won’t have anyone to take care of me, and i’ll probably have to miss a lot of work. well i can get the hair removal done whenever so might as well start that now. the hard part is timing it with potential ffs and when/how i want to come out of the closet more.

9. trying a todo list thing where i make a mind map of all the things i want to get done this week. break things down into smaller tasks and related things and unanswered questions and the reasons im procrastinating. it’s exploded of course, but feels good.

10. i keep trying to write songs but struggling to find words or feeling. well all i can do is listen and capture it when i find it.

11 . i think im done with drinking. one drink im bubbly and want to keep the feeling. two drinks and i get into a mood. three drinks and im horny and reckless. and it ruins the next day too.

12. being bi is dizzying. liking guys is easier. like how do you say “i wanna make out with you” to a girl friend and it not be weird?

13. i need to find a new book to read, fiction of course. things on my mind i want to explore: non-white feminism, trans women experiences, queerness in general, masochism kinks, femme sexuality, that thing people call womanhood, neurodivergence.

14. ill have to go to a christmas party with all my cousins on friday and ill have to pretend to be a straight man. or ill just be myself and let them think im the f-slur. whatever.

15. i want to buy a binder and a hole puncher to catalog mind maps and the ideas i have. so much living in random scraps of paper and in notebooks. i need to get better at developing ideas and connecting them. silly me, always sort of starting from scratch.

16. it’s hard to say what i really want. like what i want the future to look like. i see glimpses and try to piece together a vision. though so much is outside my control. and i get scared of wanting too much and letting myself down. today i see a house somewhere quiet, cuddling in the backyard till the mosquitos piss us off, romantic sex and i love you’s, a big bookshelf full of names I’ve never heard before, letters and calendars and a very full life.