#I'll buy more glue tomorrow

[maniakminis]

It's 1am and I am out of E600 Rubber Cement

[luveline]

could you write something with kisses before dinner where avery feels like she’s not your your steve’s favourite and she gets upset?

for you my love! dad!steve x pregnant!mom!you. 3.7k

Steve gives Bethie's hand a tug. "Come on, this way." 

Bethie follows without complaint, her rain boots smacking the sidewalk with each step. Steve keeps checking to make sure the umbrella's covering her, though there's little need for his worrying when she's wearing her rain mac, a scarf, and a super thick sweater under her coat.  

It's a very short walk to the door for Avery's classroom. She and the other first graders get called out one by one from a huge door that exits a cubby room. Steve stands where he always does, out of the way from most but close enough that Avery doesn't have to look far. 

Steve hadn't always wanted kids. When he was sixteen, he thought that having children might be the worst thing in the world, not because he'd ever been around any kids that weren't worth loving, but because they acted like a sort of glue, sticking you to another person. But he got older, and he realised he wanted to be stuck, and then he realised there isn't any glue to children, they can't serve as an adhesive that binds you to someone. You either love your partner or you don't (of course, it's a little more complicated than that) and children are usually separate. 

Steve met you. He loved you more than he ever loved another person. And then you had Avery, and Bethie, and Dove, and he somehow loved you more for it. It's immeasurable. 

Steve loves you, and he loves his kids most of all. You wouldn't be offended, you feel the same —kids are a different kind of love. 

It's why being out in the rain doesn't matter. Bethie's hand is warm where he covers it in his, and when she gives a little shiver he crouches down to rub her shoulders, knowing it doesn't help but wishing it did.

He's so excited to see Avery he can't describe it right, and it doesn't make any sense because he saw her seven hours ago at drop off when she kissed him goodbye and ran away to go play races with her friends. Since then, he's taken Bethie to her doctor’s check up, chased Dove around the house for a bath, put on a load of washing, made dinner preparations, done the dishes, all while acting as a willing serf for a moderately pregnant you on bed rest after a bout of high blood pressure. All of those anxieties and chores and exhaustions —he wouldn't have it any other way— and still he's geared up to see his oldest. 

Avery usually runs out of the door like she's on springs, but today she's only walking. Steve groans as he stands up properly, beckoning for Avery to come and stand under the umbrella as he calls, "Hey, Avey-bear, where's your water bottle?" 

She only has her lunch box. 

"I think it's lost forever," she says, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

He can't hug her with his hands full, but he gives her the best 'dad loves you' look that he can muster, his most adoring smile. "You think so? Don't worry, we'll fix it."

"It's not broken," she says. 

"I just mean that we'll find it or I'll buy you another one." Avery holds her hand up. "Take your sisters, baby.”

"I wanna be under the umbrella," she whines. 

Steve doesn't blame her. The rain is coming down heavier by the minute, and she doesn't have a nice sweater on like Beth. The weather wasn't as unpleasant this morning. 

"You can hold it if you don't stab me in the eye," he says. 

"Yes! Please please please," she says, accepting the umbrella he passes with a charmingly pleased smile. 

They walk through the playground, the winding path to the parking lot and between cars. Steve picks Bethie up and carries her from the parking lot onward, worried she'll pull away. Avery tells him about her day without prompting, the umbrella jabbing him in the hips and stomach occasionally. 

"We're making cards tomorrow for them, do you think the old people like cards?" she asks as they approach the car. 

"I think they'll love your card."

Steve unlocks the doors and pulls Avery's open first. He takes the umbrella from her and she climbs into her car seat with a load of thunking and huffing. Steve didn't think it through, there's the umbrella to shake dry, car seat straps to click, and his arms are still full of Beth, who's been her usual quiet self the entire time. 

"You okay, Beth?" he asks her. 

"I'm cold," she murmurs. 

Steve can't have that. He pushes the umbrella into the footwell by Avery's feet and water flecks the poor girl's jeans, but at least he has a hand free to click together her car seat strap. She lifts her head for a kiss and he doesn't recognise it until the door's shutting between them. 

He winces and rushes to Bethie's side. "Sorry, babe," he says when he opens the door, putting Beth in her seat with ease. Avery pouts at him. "I'll give you a kiss when we get home, I'm sorry, my head's not screwed on tight enough right now. I'm just rushing to get back to mom." 

Avery blows hair out of her face, annoyed. 

The drive home is nice and slow. Steve's cargo is too important to rush and risk hydroplaning. Bethie's asleep by the time they get home as he hoped she would be, and Avery is itching for the bathroom. He lets her out first and she sprints away before he can get a kiss. 

Steve scoops Bethie up and whacks his head on the car roof. He does it every single time he tries to get her out, and he stands there with the rain pounding his back, sucking air in through his teeth. "Sugar," he whispers.

He pulls Bethie securely to his chest, locks the car and climbs the short step into the house, head pounding. He's unsurprised and horrified to see you up in the kitchen making Avery a cup of juice, Dove propped on your baby bump like a perfectly sized seat. 

"Not okay," he says, hands covering Bethie's ears as he closes the front door behind him. "Go sit down now. I'm not kidding. Right now." 

"Steve–" 

"Y/N," he says, real annoyance in his voice. He doesn't like bossing you around, doesn't like being a jerk, but you can't mess with bed rest, not so far along. It's not even the baby he's thinking about, it's you. "Go lay down, please." 

You smile guiltily. "I'm feeling better." 

Avery looks like she's the one who's had the telling off when you leave. She sips from her juice cup and won't meet his eyes, her sleeves dark with water. She has a bad habit of not rolling them up when she washes her hands, and Steve always sighs when he sees it. 

Your home is oddly shaped. When you first walk in, you can see up the stairs to the right, and you can see straight down the hall to the kitchen, and you can also see into the living room to the left. The living room leads into the kitchen, too, which means there's double the baby gates. 

Steve puts Bethie down on the big bean bag by the windows and finds you laying down on the L-shaped couch, Dove content where she sits by your hip. Your hands play with the thin blonde wisps of hair at her neck. The longer it grows the darker it becomes. 

"Sorry for worrying you," you say, not looking at him. "I really do feel better." 

"I'm glad you do, but you know it's not one of those things that works on feelings," Steve says. He rubs his forehead, and then he drops his hand against his thigh in defeat. "Sorry for being snappy. You freaked me out." 

"I have to get up sometimes. To pee and stuff," you say. "Will you get Ave her juice? She wants Mapap." 

"What? For what?" he asks. 

Dove turns in her seat to look at Steve like she's surprised he's here. Then, in a startling turn of events, she babbles happily. "Daddy," she says, holding up her hands. "Home." 

"I'm home," he agrees sweetly. 

"Daddy," she says again. 

Dove loves Steve, but she's always had a preference for her mom. When you're working, Dove is more than happy to spend her days in Steve's arms, in his lap, some days she's stuck to him like a leech, but you walk through the door and she's immediately team Mom. It makes sense, she must miss you while you're away. For the first time in a while, Dove's had to miss Steve instead. 

He picks her up with a huge beaming smile and kisses her cheek, still chubby with baby fat. "You're happy to see me?" he asks against her skin. 

"I think she has a tummy ache." 

"Dove?" Steve asks, folding a curl behind Dove's ear. 

"Avery." You grimace. "Are you sure I can't stand up? I feel fine." 

"Don't get up." Steve gives Dove another kiss and says to her, "I love you, I'll be right back. Please still love me." 

Dove curls into your chest when Steve puts her down in a way that says she certainly won't still love him when he returns, but she enjoyed the hug. 

Steve almost trips in the doorway to the kitchen over a teddy bear. Avery eyes him reproachfully, her glass of juice a quarter filled. 

"Mommy says you have a tummy ache. Let's get you some medicine, yeah?" Steve asks.

"It's okay." 

"It stopped hurting?" 

"No," Avery says, frowning. She looks to be on the sudden verge of tears as kids tend to be.

Steve attempts to rescue her. "Okay, baby. Come here," he says, holding out his arms. Avery puts her glass on the counter and walks into his arms, a sad sound squeezed from her as he carries her to the kitchen table. He sits her on a table mat, ducking to be the same height as her eyes, his hands finding a gentle home on her small shoulders. "What's the situation, honey? What kind of pain is it?" 

"It feels weird," she says quietly. 

"Throw up weird?" he asks, the most important port of call. 

"No."

"You sure?" he asks.

Avery shakes her head. Steve doesn't think she'll throw up, but she looks so unhappy that he frowns at her, rubbing the nape of her neck. "What's the pain feel like?"

"Just hurts."

"Okay. I'll get you some Mapap, honey. What would make you feel better? A cuddle?" He leans forward to whisper, "Are you feeling gassy? Maybe you need a burp." 

"No, dad," she says. She must be feeling awful, she doesn't laugh. Burps are always funny.

Steve grabs the Mapap from the fringe and tips it onto a spoon. "Here," he murmurs, passing her the last of her juice so she's ready to chase the odd taste of her medicine away. 

Avery hesitates to open her mouth. 

She has the same eyes as Steve, and right now they're filled with a look hasn't seen in his own for years. He's not sure what to make of it. She doesn't look sick, she looks sad, really sad, driving Steve to a new kind of panic. 

"I'll take some with you," he says. 

"Really?" she asks. 

It's kids Mapap —he could drink the bottle and still have a backache afterward. "Yeah, really really. You want me to go first or second?" 

She deliberates. "First." 

Steve lifts the spoon of medicine to his nose. He knows he should pretend it's delicious, no big deal, but he sniffs it suspiciously, touching the tip of his tongue to it and wincing dramatically at the taste. 

"I get a hug after this, right?" he asks. 

Avery laughs. "Yeah, dad." 

He raises his brows, as if to say, Well, in that case, and takes the medicine. It's a fake strawberry flavour and disgusting but he pretends it's only sort of bad. 

Avery offers him her cup of juice as soon as he takes the spoon out. She's lovely. 

Steve makes another cup of juice and another spoon of medicine. Avery takes it without any hesitation, going as far as to say, "It's not that bad." 

Steve's thankful for the reprieve. He really hadn't been liking the way Avery looked like she was feeling. He scoops her up as though she weighs nothing (she grows like a bamboo shoot every summer, but Steve is strong) and carries her to the living room, where you're half asleep now and Dove's definitely not, her short fingers petting your neck. 

"She's sleeping," Dove tells Steve factually as he sits. 

Avery leans against Steve's chest. 

"I'm not sleeping," you mumble, "just my Dove is being so nice to me." 

"Well, not to make anyone jealous or anything, but Avery promised me a prime time kiss. Like, a huge one." 

"No I didn't," Avery says, confused.

"Yes you did, don't be a meanie. I meant to give you one in the car, 'member?" 

"Oh," Avery says, "right." 

Steve gets his kisses and a great big cuddle, hugging his eldest baby as close as he can. The TV plays one of Dove's favourite movies and you fall asleep, snoring and drooling at once, dribbling from the corner of your mouth. It seeps into the cushion you've underneath you. Dove laughs and points it out to Steve and Avery. Avery's a sweetheart, so she wipes your drool away and pushes a fingertip into your lips until you close your mouth. 

Dove climbs off of you and wanders over to Bethie. "Leave her alone, Dove," Steve warns. 

Dove gives him a, Who, me? look and climbs onto the bean bag, to Steve's annoyance. Luckily, Dove's feeling nice, and she doesn't wake her sister. She lays down beside her and loosely holds her hand, and after half an hour, everyone's asleep besides Steve and Avery. 

He can't help looking at you constantly, worried you're gonna get sick and he won't notice. He's worrying the same thing about Ave.

He's too obvious. 

"Is mom okay?" Avery asks. 

"Mom's okay. Are you worrying?" he asks. 

"You're worrying," Avery says. 

"I know mom's gonna be okay, I can promise you she's fine," he says. "But it's like you. You're not feeling very well and it makes me worry, but I know you'll be okay." 

Avery doesn't say anything, rubbing her nose against his collar. 

"Do you believe me?" he asks. 

"About what?"

"About everything, I guess." 

"Yeah," she says. Steve gives her shoulder a little pat.

"Okay, good. Mom is fine, and baby's fine, and we'll all be okay as long as she rests up. And your tummy stops hurting, duh." 

Avery isn't cheered up by his doting, sweet tones. She stays flat as a pancake on his chest and doesn't move an inch for a while. Steve waits. He knows Avery like the back of his hand. She has something she wants to say, or tell him, or ask. 

"Dad?" she whispers. 

"Yeah?" 

"Is it okay to be nobody's favourite?" 

"What?" 

Avery hides her face. 

Steve encourages her back out again, gently carding through her hair. "What do you mean?" he asks.

Her bottom lip trembles. "Dove is mommy's favourite, and your favourite is Beth, so who's favourite am I?" she asks. 

"You're my favourite," he says on automatic.

"But you can only have one," she says, glaring at him. 

"That's not how this works, you're my girls. You're my daughters. You're all my favourites." 

"You love Bethie most." 

Steve wants to say, Of course I don't, how could you think that? He wants to say, Avery, don't be silly. He wants to say, That's not true, because it genuinely isn't.

"I'm so sorry," he says instead. 

Avery sniffs. "Why?" 

"Ave, I'm so sorry. That's not what you're supposed to think, I– honey, why do you think I love Bethie most?" he asks. "It's not true, I adore your sister, but I love you the same. I love you so much it made my heart actually get bigger," Steve says, rushing to explain it, wanting there to be no doubt. "When you were born, it was the best day of my life. The best day of my life." 

"You and Beth are always snuggling," Avery says. Steve has to strain to hear her.

"Your sister loves hugs, and I love giving them to her," he agrees. "Do you wish we hugged more often?" 

She nods. He nods back. 

"Then we will. I promise." 

"I want to be your favourite," she says. 

"Avery," he sighs. "You are. It's hard to explain it, but I love you and Bethie and Dove and even the baby all the same." 

Avery starts crying. Steve had known it was going to happen, and it still feels like a whack to the chest, flat-palmed. 

"Is this why your tummy hurts?" he asks quietly. 

"I want to be your favourite," she says again, cheeks shining with tears. "I want to be mom's favourite, it's not fair."

"You're my favourite singer," he says. 

Avery frowns.

"You're my favourite singer. You're my favourite at putting her socks on. You're my favourite pancake maker, my favourite–" 

"It's not the same," Avery says.

Steve takes her hands in his. "Yes it is! You're my favourite girl just like your sisters, but if that's not good enough, you're my favourite at so much other stuff, Ave. You have my favourite smile, and do my favourite dances. I'm really sorry you think you're no one's favourite," he says, aching. "I promise you, me and your mom love you so much it's weird." 

"You promise?" she checks. 

"I promise. Cross my heart." 

Avery sniffles. Steve wipes her warm cheeks with the side of his hand, tucking her hair behind her ears. She's his mirror. If there's one thing Steve wanted, it was that she would never feel how he felt growing up. 

"I can make it up to you, sweetheart, you tell me what it is that makes you upset and I can fix it. Will you tell me, please?" 

Avery tells him in little fits and starts. It's nothing done maliciously, ever, but he can heartbreakingly see why Avery might have stacked all of these things together and started wondering what's wrong. Bethie gets super tired in the early evenings, and when she's tired she clings, hoarding Steve's affection for herself; Dove's young enough to be a handful, hoarding yours. There's the missed kiss in the car after school, and a hug that didn't include her at breakfast. A few days ago, you said to Dove, "Mom needs a kiss from her favourite girl." You had no idea Avery was awake, and you didn't mean it with even a drop of cruelty, but it doesn't matter. Avery took it to heart, and she's been upsetting herself with it ever since. 

"Do you want to talk to mom?" he asks her, stroking her cheek with his knuckle. 

"I don't know…" 

"I can talk to her for you, if you want to. Or we can talk to her together. She'll be really sorry, honey, I promise. You know mommy doesn't have a mean bone in her body." 

You wake up not too long after that, dragging yourself into a sluggish sleeping position, hand on your bump. "Woah, she's kicking me." 

You look up to them with a huge smile, evidently excited to show them, hand already in the hem of your shirt and pulling up, but you notice their matching frowns and say, "What's wrong?" 

Steve explains. Avery looks at your bump rather than your face as he does, barely reacting to his hand stroking her hair back. 

"Oh," you say, pouting gently, eyebrows pinching together, "Avery, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean she's my only favourite, that's not–" You hold your hand out for her. "Sorry, baby. I've really upset you, haven't I?"

Avery squeezes her eyes closed and nods. 

"I bet that was really sad, thinking you weren't our favourite girl," you murmur, voice imbued with apology, sympathy, and an overflowing measure of love. 

"It's okay," Avery says.

"It wasn't just your fault," Steve says to you. "It was me too." 

"Can I come and lie on you?" Avery asks.

Your eyes light with relief. "Yes, yeah. Don't kick my tummy, okay?" You pull Avery onto your front. She's cautious not to dig a knee into your bump but otherwise collapses boneless into your arms. 

Parents make literally hundreds and thousands of mistakes just like kids do. Steve knows he hadn't meant to hurt Avery, but he did, and he feels overwhelmingly depressed about it. Being a dad is the only thing he's ever been good at. This is his biggest screw up to date.

You have your eyes closed, your face against Avery's pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Blindly, you squeeze Steve's arm.

"I love you so much, Avery," you say. "Thanks for telling us how you're feeling. You're always brave."

"I'm not," Avery says. All the love and affection is finally getting to her. She sounds bashfully pleased rather than sad now, hugging your neck extra tight. 

"You are!" You pull Steve toward you. "Dad knows. Isn't she just the best in the world?" 

Steve covers her back with his arm. The youngest both snore unawares on the big bean bag, the TV flickering with the static at the end of the movie. He should've started dinner an hour ago, but he doesn't feel hungry.

"You're the nicest, strongest, kindest girl I've ever met," Steve says. He's laying it on thick, and every word is true. 

"What about me?" you joke. 

"You're fine."

"Dad!" Avery laughs, turning her head to smile at him reproachfully. "You can't say that, tell the truth!" 

"You're joint first best," he corrects. He covers his mouth with his hand, whispering to Avery, "But you're the very very best, Ave." 

Her eyes go soft, straight lashes kissing in the outer corners as she smiles. "Thanks, dad."

[fayeofthenightingale]

I've decided to contribute to the Miguel nation even though I was almost a year late

I present to you…. Brother's best friend! Miguel! A drabble…. (Might turn this into a full fic idk)

Cw: Brother's best friend trope, grammatical errors, fem reader, possibly OOC Miguel, this is more like a flashback really since it's focus is more on Miggy and reader's childhood, this is kinda long wth 😭

Bbf! Miguel who has been friends with your brother since middle school, would often play in your brother's room when they were younger. As typical boys do, they'd play video games. He doesn't mind when you want to join them. He finds it endearing whenever you try to put your stuffed animals on the Legos they built, claiming they're people or something like that.

Bbf! Miguel who defends little you whenever some mean kids try to bully you, is taller than the average kid, making him intimidating. When this happens, he stands behind the bullies, towering over them with a menacing glare and arms folded. All he has to do is say something like "scram" or "leave," and the kids your age run away. Then, when you're feeling sad or upset, he treats you to ice cream to cheer you up.

Bbf! Miguel who helps you pull pranks on your brother, sometimes he’d be surprised you were able to pull off a bit extreme pranks but he’d be happy to do it for shits and giggles.

Bbf! Miguel who helps patch up your wounds whenever you have a little accident in the midst of pulling a prank on your brother all while speaking to you in the gentlest of ways to calm you down. "can you get up? no? All alright I'll carry you then” Your eleven-year-old mind panics when he easily carries you.

Bbf! Miguel who defends you against your older brother, Leo, gets into an argument whenever he can, Leo’s older, and can handle himself, while you are 4 almost 5 years younger than them and therefore helps you whenever he can, it’s just not fair sometimes.

He stood by the side of Leo’s room, witnessing the fight between you and your brother, 13-year-old Leo yelling at you for breaking his model aeroplane. “I Told you not to come in here without my permission!” Leo huffed, “I’m sorry! I-I just want to look at it” You defended yourself but Leo wasn’t having it,” Well now look at it! It’s broken!” little you are almost on the brink of tears, that’s when he stepped in. “come on now, the wing is the only one that’s broken, I’m sure we can fix it,” he said, trying to cool down the argument, Your brother stormed out of his room to cool off leaving you with Miguel “Are you okay Chiquita?” he asked and you shook your head a small sniffle escaped you as you try to justify yourself “I didn’t mean it” little you murmured as you look up at him with teary eyes, he sighed as he took the broken plane and its wing “hey, it’s okay yeah? Leo just needs to cool off, with the help of a super glue I’m sure we can fix this” he reassured you with a little ruffle on your head and grabbed the super glue to fix the broken model plane with his best friend’s little sister.

Bbf! Miguel got his heart broken for the first time because the girl he’s been crushing didn’t like him back because he was “too nerdy” for her liking, Leo brought it up during dinner when your mom asked how your day went and you were saddened for him, who wouldn’t like Miguel? He’s kind, understanding, and funny, he may be too intimidating because of his more-than-average height but that’s his outside appearance! He’s really sweet on the inside… wait…. Why are you thinking like that about him? Nevermind that.

Bbf! Miguel showed up the next day at your house since he and Leo needed to finish a project that’s due tomorrow, eyes puffy and a bit dishevelled from crying, you felt bad despite your brother calling him out that he looks like shit. Miguel didn’t deserve this, so you, the ever loving little sister of his best friend decided to go buy something for him.

Bbf! Miguel who walked out of your house to head home since the project they’ve been working on is finished, “Miguel!” you called out to him with a small paper bag in hand, you catch up to him panting heavily, have you been running? You held out the small paper “Umm.... I’m sorry about what happened yesterday… Leo told me… I mean he told mom when she asked how our day went” you rumbled, you were too busy making sure the treat in your hand stayed warm that you haven’t thought about what to say to him! “… anyways theseareforyouIhopeyoufeelbetter'' you said rather too quickly and before he could say anything you ran away and inside your house too flustered to face him, he took a peek inside the bag and a small smile was painted on his lips, warm empanadas from his favourite store, oh how sweet of you…

Bbf! Miguel who's taken the rejection to heart, maybe much of a nerd after all and that needed to change, so day by day he changed himself, no longer wearing those thick-framed glasses instead he opted for contact lenses, the baggy shirt that has corny science jokes were now nowhere to be seen and he's even doing a little workout to build his tall lanky body, of course, this was never unnoticed to you, who wouldn't notice your brother's best friend slowly gaining muscle and lean body type? You're happy for him of course but a part of you hoped that he did it because he wanted to and not because he's pressured by society's views of him, you like the nerd him? he's cute!

Bbf! Miguel who's never seen you so down in the dumps before, usually your beams and silliness can rival the sun itself but now you're gloomier than the night sky. He asked your brother about it and he didn't expect the reason for your sudden gloominess.

“Ah, she's just upset because no one gave her a Valentine's gift” your brother nonchalantly said as he played on his computer, his series of curses from losing the game was blurred out and in his peripheral vision, he only saw you, without saying any word he left your brother's room and approached you. You can hear the low vibrato of his voice as he approaches you “Hey” he greeted and sat down beside you “You okay?” he asked with his usual gentleness and you looked at him “I don't know… do I look okay?” you mumbled sassily which took him aback but sighed “I… I don't even know why I'm upset, it's just a silly day, it's not even a holiday! it's just a stupid day to have an excuse to ask your crush out or chow down chocolates” you mumbled bitterly, really it's a childish thing to be upset about something small like this, but Miguel didn't think so, no, he’s been there and he knows how it feels, Miguel didn't say anything but pats your head gently, his way to console you.

Bbf! Miguel who had surprised you on a random Friday afternoon with a box of your favourite chocolate and a pink coloured rose “Here” he said as he handed you the gifts, your eyes widened in surprise but took them “What's with this?” you asked but he shrugged in response “For you” he didn't show but it was amusing to him (and kinda cute) to see the sparkle in your eyes shine although it was short-lived “you didn't have to do this you know?” you mumbled, as much as you appreciated his effort you didn't want him to do that out of pity, again your brother's best friend shrugged “It’s not out of pity, it's for you, pink roses for appreciation" and that got you thinking “appreciation? for what? what did I do?” you asked him genuinely curious as to why “just existing, we've known each other for years-” “but I'm not your best friend” you cut him off “who said you have to be my best friend for me to show you my appreciation?” he asked you and in turn you weren't able to say anything, too surprised to utter a single word. He called your name softly, “I appreciate you, not because you're Leo's sister, but my friend, one of the closest, as embarrassing as it sounds but I cannot deny the truth, you have a certain charm I'm drawn to, you make me smile easily, you understand me, and don't tell Leo about this but at least with you I'm slightly more comfortable” he said with a small smile.

Before you could say anything Leo called out Miguel's name and he left right after, a hand on your chest to ease the beating of your heart and butterflies on your stomach. And in that moment, you realized you had fallen for your brother's best friend.

----

Omg why is posting stuff online so anxiety inducing?! Anyways Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! If you have feed backs I'm more than eager to hear them (just be kind please) 🩷

[civilotterneer]

Civ Suit V2: So no head?

Unlike the old Vine, there is in fact head!

3d print PLA base for prototype. Foam inside is sized to fit my head. Eyes fit way better, and I think I've got the mouth figured for hinging using elastic straps. A high heat hot glue gun has made this way easier than trying to use E6000 glue.

Goal tomorrow is to wrap it in 1/2 inch foam so it's a bit softer to touch, then probably get the liner sewn and installed. I'll also be making the nose and working on details. I'm unlikely to get to furring it this week, but I might have a productive Saturday so who knows.

I will note for V3: reducing the head width does mess with his intended head shape a bit too much, so I may rewiden the next version.

In other good news: a work friend (not furry but knows I am) whose been following my sewing-learning agreed to help me with a duct tape dummy at some point! Im also buying a house right now where I'll have much more room to work on it! Things are all coming up Civ!

[puishyl]

Please Please Please, Mr. Shadowsinger

An Azriel x Sabrina Carpenter Story

-1651 words-

Tags: Cursing, Angst (?)

CHAPTER TWO

Getting home, to his room, was all Azriel really needed. Whether he was coming back from fighting for Velaris or hanging out at a dinky, lively bar, he could always find some sense of comfort in his home. It held memories of his life and family... and it was well suited for his wings.

Upon entering his room, he began taking off his cloths to get some decent sleep.

Images of the events from before came to mind, leaving him to realize that it really had not been that eventful. He had just thought so from how he felt throughout it. It was an odd feeling; he knew, logically, that it was just a random waitress that spilled his drink, but there was something more to it.

Ever the observer, Azriel noticed through the dimly lit bar that she had some sort of reflective hair, and that her name contained the letters s, r, and a (based off what he could see on her scratched name tag). There was something awfully mysterious about her, her attitude and simple way of being, it felt like she was truly herself. As someone who was constantly stoic and hiding his emotions, it was refreshing, to say the least.

Soon, Az realized he had just been standing there in thought. Weird. (Even for him.) Coming back to his senses, Azriel laid in bed with the same strange, lingering sensation he had felt since his interaction with that female.

Through lingering thoughts, Az made a resolution to find out more about that waitress and this feeling.

With a pull and a shake of her doorknob, Sabrina unlocked the door to her apartment. "Stupid lock, first they say they can't fix it, then they say I have to deal with it if I get broken into," she sighs.

Sabrina lives in a shabby apartment, as it's the only thing she can afford. Centuries go, she was a child actor for a few famous programs that discovered her through her unt, but that money soon ran out when her aunt died and her father turned to a coholism. The remaining money was barely enough to pay for her, her siblings, mom, and all the damage done. They lasted long enough for her, the youngest, to move out.

Now, her mom is able to get by with her own job and the children, now grown, are all doing their own thing.

Sabrina, though she may play the role of a tough and self-sustaining woman, she still struggles. She knows she's capable, but some things aren't fair in life. For example, she has always wanted to sing. Well, she can sing, but there haven't been enough chances for her to truly demonstrate her passion.

Maybe if I can find time to do some gigs I'll have enough money tomorrow buy a good lock, and a good meal too while we're at it.

Setting down her things, she rids herself of her apron and name tag. "Shitty job can't even give me a functional name tag," she mumbles as she grabs glue out of her kitchen cabinet and uses it to stick back the dangling pin of her tag.

While walking to her bedroom she thinks of her job, recalling the mishap that occurred with that deliciously dark baddie. The faint lighting allowed her to make out his inky clothing, and when he leaned towards her to help clean the mess, she saw his tan skin.

It was littered with scars, but since when has that stopped her?

After getting ready for bed, she fell on her side onto the rugged mattress and slept with dreams of seeing him again. After all, she needed something to provide her with happiness, something (semi) real.

♡---♡

Waking up to the sounds of shouts from the lovely couple next door was not ideal, but at least she won't oversleep and be late for work!

That's right, she has a day job too. It's at a coffee shop near her apartment, and Rita's, so that she doesn't have to walk much and can get from one place to the other quickly.

It's a rough lifestyle but at least she gets the weekends off, at least then she has some time to herself.

Drudging through her morning routine, she finally leaves the building and begins her walk towards the shop. Looking at the serenity alongside her, the colors of the roads and chatter amongst the crowds, she feels a weight lift off of her. She feels as light as a feather, her worries leaving for the duration of her walk. That is until she gets a sensation of eyes on her, not the creepy ones like at the bar, but ones of interest and observation. Seeing the coffee shop ahead of her, she decides to ignore it and just get

Now, the coffee shop was much lovelier and definitely the better choice of her employments. She loved the smell and taste, and one of her favorite hobbies was seeing all the different type of people that came in. She had made friends there too, Olerva and Chappell. Olerva was still with her, but Chappell had found her way into the music industry a few months ago. They remained friends, if not gotten even closer due to their shared interests, with Chappell showing Sabrina a couple of the places she would sing and introducing her to new people, tools, and other things. Chappell had even offered to do a show together but Sabrina hadn't felt like she had earned it quite yet. She wanted to do things on her own, prove herself to herself.

"Hey Sab!" Olerva was shouting to her as she came in from the storage room, holding boxes of creamers and coffee grounds.

"Put on that apron and get those customers PLEASE," she pleaded.

Olerva's grandma was the one that opened this shop many centuries ago, so she tends to take it very seriously. It means a lot to her, and Sabrina thinks it's really sweet.

"I'm on it!" Sabrina shouted back, head tilted as she pulled her hair into a practiced ponytail.

Azriel has been... doing something he probably should not be.

When he awoke this morning, he awoke with a mission. A mission in which he used the excuses of being the courts spy and having to explain its mysteries (no matter whom they were attributed to) to convince himself it was a good idea.

That's why he is now standing outside a cute and well-located coffee shop. By "well-located", he means that it fits into his case perfectly (or so he hopes).

He had woken up quite early, maybe due to the curious anxiety of this situation, so he had plenty of time to do some investigating. When he knocked on Rhys's door asking permission for files on citizens, he managed to get both a lead and an exhausted, hungover Rhys being passive aggressive with him. After searching for specifics, like location, employment, and appearance, he settled on this place. Now, if this lead were to ing true he'd finally be rid of this feeling; he felt lucky that this female could possibly be found- and he really hoped she could be found here.

He didn't really know what exactly his plan of action was, though. Hence the waiting outside, in the shade with his shadows of course. A pensive Azriel just stood there, bland body language in order to blend in. Perhaps I should sit inside to scout the employees, I'll most likely have to wait through the shifts to find who l'm looking for.

Making his way across the road, he walked through the door of the shop. Quickly finding a small table (likely for two) he sat and immediately started scanning the workers. Their aprons with dainty pastel colors and bold highlights, accompanied by the coffee shop's logo, made it easy to spot who was in-fact an employee. Through the many people rushing in and out, he managed to take a look at the female making the drinks before he could see the cashier. She had healthy brown hair, brown eyes, and was wearing jangling bracelets. He checked her off.

Sighing at not being able to get a clear view of all the employees, he casually made his way to the menu stand. It was right beside the order station, so he figured he'd get a closer look and also maybe choose something to drink. After making a swift decision, he peeked over the menu and finally began his observation on the female in front of him.

That's when he realized this might actually be her. She had a blonde look for hair which, upon closer inspection, also resided with ash-blonde roots and other tones of gold. Her eyes were a stunning mix of green and blue, skin a milky and smooth shade, and lips shaped into a complimentary smile forming a set of dimples.

She looked very familiar, all Az needed now was a name. Looking at her outfit and not finding a tag, a feeling of disappointment settled inside of Az. You're being unreasonable, just get in line.

In order to get his final clue and confirmation, Azriel stepped into the lengthy line. He felt that feeling again, and his hands started getting unnaturally condensed. Why is this line so long? Azriel began to get slightly irritated, he only wanted to discover her identity and be rid of this sensation. He also had never been in this coffee shop, quite frankly, he's never been interested in it. This meant he didn't know that people were fiends for its delicacies. Anyways, by now, the line has gotten short enough that there's only two people between him and the cashier. Looking around, he spots a time log on the shelves behind the cashier. Leaning his body slightly forward and squinting his eyes, he makes out a Sab-

"Hi! How may I help you?"

♡---♡

"That's right" 🤓☝🏼

[eponadolls]

I recently bought an Imomo doll Miko! If everything goes according to plan, I plan on making her into a mini Frieren! I think her serene or somber sculpt, with a rounder face, will lend well for Frieren. I really like the Volks Dollfie for Frieren, but I think a rounder face would have made her a little bit more on-model, annnnd... well, Miko was about $100 shipped, which is quite a bit cheaper than the Volks Frieren price tag, ahaha. :'D

I've read that vinyl Imomo doll bodies can be kind of floppy, so I am prepared to stabilize her with teflon tape, wire, and even hot glue if needed. If I like her well enough, I am planning on ordering an Apsu. More anime-elf doll talk below the cut, ahaha.

I think Apsu would lend well to be a mini Dungeon Meshi (Delicious in Dungeon)'s Marcille!

I think if Volks was to do a Dungeon Meshi collab I probably wouldn't be able to resist getting an official Marcille doll, but at least they would be in different scales and probably have different hairstyles anyways!

Assuming I really like the Imomo dolls to justify getting a third 1/4 scale girl, I think I might get a Mie to shell Elf (or Sui) from Ojisan Isekai/Uncle from Another World.

I think Mie looks a lot like Miko - I think the biggest difference might be in her ears? - but I think Sui's design looks distinct enough from Frieren that it won't be a problem.

I love Uncle from Another World but I find it highly unlikely that there will be much in regards to new merch for the show (especially since season 1 has caught up to the manga already...) and getting a Sui dollfie would probably be highly unprobeable (lol), but I look forward to getting a little Sui. :)

Until I started thinking about which doll would suit which character, though, I hadn't noticed all three girls have green eyes. I think I've found reasonable eyes for all three on etsy already, so now I'm just on the hunt for a wig and stockings for Frieren. All of them will be getting removable elf ears but I am not sure if the 1/3 DD scale ears by GoldDin (recommended for their head size) would be too big for my tastes.

I think it looks really good on @catfishy2u's custom MDD Frieren, though! So I am probably over thinking it, ahaha, since I tend to veer towards smaller elf ears for my bjds... so I think that's messing with my perception a little bit. I did buy some elf ears secondhand for dollfie by B. A. F. Studio (unsure where they sell their products but I think they're Japanese) potentially for Marcille or a future dollfie.

I'll be testing the fit on Miko when both parts get here. Supposedly Miko will be here tomorrow, but I think Tuesday/Wednesday is more likely, but we will see! Although, seeing all three girls together, I think maybe the BAF ears would be better for Sui - Marcille's ears seem to be bigger like Frieren's in comparison. We shall see!

[nancypullen]

Thursday

Howdy do. It's Thursday here in Dullsville and I've decided to go full steam ahead with fall decor. Why not? Just gonna' do what makes me happy and maybe Mother Nature will see it and usher in some true autumn weather. We've had some really pleasant days lately, it was actually FIFTY degrees on Tuesday morning! I think our high today is 76 which is just fine with me. A little rain wouldn't hurt, but I feel like that's asking too much. I'll just be content that the brutal summer heat seems to have moved on. So....FALL! Remember the candlesticks I was going to paint and distress? I'm building a centerpiece around them, not sure where it's headed yet but I like the before and after.

That's the dollar store pumpkin I covered with napkins, and the little $1 pumpkin stack got some fresh paint. Easy and cheap! Tonight I'm headed to The Foundry for a mosaic class. I've taken these mosaic classes a couple of times before, it's pretty straight forward - you're basically just paying to use the supplies. She always has boxes of tile, glass, china, and of course the nippers to cut it all. The instructor is super sweet, so it'll be fun to create and chat. Tonight's class will make a 14x5 house number or welcome sign. This is the example given.

I plan to make a house number with a Halloween vibe. Our house number is 504, so I can make the 5 and 4 with black tiles and make the 0 an orange pumpkin. We'll see if that works. I've never been able to get to the grouting stage in class. I always have a big plan and not enough time. I'm keeping it simple for this project, so maybe tonight is the night I finish!

Tomorrow I'm scheduled for a COVID shot at 10am. I also have a 1pm plant pick up at the arboretum. Every spring and fall they have a big native plant sale and I always buy a couple of things to support them. This fall I'm just getting some rudbeckia (Black-eyed Susan) and some blue mistflower.

It's supposed to attract bees and butterflies, crossing my fingers but not counting on it. In a quest to lure more wildlife to our yard we added yet another bird feeder. This one clamps onto the railing of the back porch and allows us to watch the birdies from the sofa. The cats are loving it too. It's been nice enough to have windows and doors open lately, so Phoebe is on duty.

Of course, the squirrels found it right away. They never miss a snack. I zoomed in with my phone to snap that from the living room.

This one too - Phoebe had him in her crosshairs.

I think a birdfeeder is better than tv. The sounds are certainly more enjoyable. The new feeder is covered in finches every day now and with the windows open it's lovely to hear their chatter. They sound like they're terrible gossips. A Caroline Wren entertained us yesterday afternoon, they have such pretty songs. Yep, that's who I am now, a crazy cat lady who looks forward to meeting new birds. I own it. I've been reading about people who develop relationships with crows, trading trinkets and stuff like that, and I've never wanted anything more in my life. When I drive between Denton and Easton (which I have to do for just about anything) and I see a crow near a corn field I want to roll down my window and scream, "Come to my house, I'll give you stuff!" Crows remember faces (so do hummingbirds!) so maybe one will land in the backyard soon and recognize me from the road. This is all normal to think about, right? Alright, time for me to go beat my hair into submission, then throw something together for Mickey to eat while I go glue mosaic tiles to a board in hopes of having a little fun. The class is 5:30 to 7:30 and I'm usually the only person who stays to help clean up, so I may be out until 8 o'clock!

Sending out tons of love, take what you need and pass it on. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[stomach-hugs-n-loves]

O No intro

Yeah Idk if that's anything, but here is the first part of a g/t story (may turn into vore, not sure yet, just in case I'll tag it). I'm trying to get back into writing and wanted just a trope story but I got carried away, so this is more exposition and characterizing than real g and t interactions, so feel free to skip if you're just hankering for the Good Stuff and don't care too much about characters/world building. That's why it's the intro!

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: food, meal skipping mention, poorly written, g/t and possibly vore down the line for the whole story, I'm making it up as I go a little bit

Enjoyyyyy

“Shit!” Devon ripped his hand away from his unfinished project, attempted to shake the remnants of hot glue from his finger tip.  The deep tan skin of his brow wrinkled in a wince, and he set the glue gun on a scrap of cardboard.

“Try to be nice to mice, and this is what it gets me,” He huffed, glowering at the minor burn he sustained.  Something has been eating holes in his cereal boxes and pillow cases, and as a sophomore in college, he had to pinch every penny he could.  Sure, for now it was barely a contamination concern, but he couldn't afford to call in sick to his job or buy new bed clothes if he let the infestation grow.

That being said, he was a biology major with a minor in keeping sane (read: art).  Hence the contraption he had burned himself creating: a humane mousetrap.  It consisted of a bucket, a ladder, a dowel rod, and some ingenuity.  A large hole was cut in the middle of the bucket lid and a hot glue hinge attached the perimeter of the lid to the loose piece.  Food is put in the middle, mouse goes for the food, falls into the bucket, problem solved.  In theory, at least.  He honestly should have looked up some sort of tutorial rather than building it off the dome.  But Devon was nothing if not determined, even to his detriment.

“Whatever, it should be fine.” He put a bit of pressure on one side of the seesaw-like part of the lid and sighed in relief when it quickly gave way.  He contemplated adding a sort of hide and using extra materials to secure one side, but after checking his watch, bulked.  He knew rodents weren't brainless, but he didn't want to delay the set up of the trap for much longer.  He'd already lost his appetite for his honey-nut cheerios after finding a hole in the box, he'd have to start skipping breakfast if he didn't avert the contamination of his precious corn flakes, too.

He stood on creaky legs, sighed.  He had class in the morning, and he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.  He shuffled into the bathroom, mindlessly going through his nighttime routine until he threw himself under the dark red sheets of his bed.  Rolling onto his side, he took deep, steady breaths, let the anxieties of the day flow out with each exhale, until one final thought left his weary mind.  Tomorrow, I'm catching that dang rat.

-

Sunlight squeezed through a small crack in the mortar between brown-beige bricks and right into the eyes of a man sleeping in a matchbox full of cloth.  He snorted awake, rubbing his eyes and staring blearily at his surroundings.  Small ornaments, earrings, stamps, and dulled glass adorned the “walls” of his “room,” which was a section of inner wall he'd hollowed most of the insulation out of.  Yawning, the man pushed himself up out of the box, shielding his brown eyes with a pale hand.  He scooted to the edge, threw his legs over, and stood, a patterned rug shielding his feet from the cool concrete.  He grabbed a comb made from straw and ran it gingerly through his short black side part, only glancing in the mirror piece mounted next to his bed.  

“Beck,” He started at the shout, “you're gonna be late to the meet up and miss out on your trades!”

The man, Beck, let his shoulders sag. “Coming, Tallulah.”

He shuffled over to a drawer made of some sturdy fabric and picked out a fast outfit: a burgundy robe.  A bit informal, but he was up later than usual.  Plus, it's not like he would have to impress anyone.  Beck had been living in the community for two whole years at this point.  He could rock casual for one meeting.  He slid on some sandals made mostly of cardboard, grabbing his burlap bag from the floor.  Thank God he’d already packed it, otherwise he’d have to make the trip alone.  As it was, he pushed open the door, the back of a remote’s battery case, to Tallulah.

“You’re lucky I hate you the least.”

“I feel it.”

She was a stout woman – well, more so than Beck – with long silver hair that framed the delicate features of her face.  If one were so rude as to guess her age, they would be about a decade too low.  She aged like wine, as she often reminded those around her.  She wore a lengthy blue dress with flower print, perhaps literally from some drapes, with her own sandals with matching fabric going over top of the foot.  In her hands was a sort of bucket full of sweet smelling, small, white crystals.

“Sugar?” Beck seemed to look at it too long, as she flicked his forehead with a sigh. “Ow!”

“Don’t even think about it!”  She went off deeper into the building, exaggerated.

“Sheesh, you could have concussed me.” Beck rubbed his head with a smirk, latching his door shut before catching up.  The gray, tunneled halls were well trodden, even and flat like a road.  Because Beck was on the outskirts, it was less so until it intersected with another, more traveled path.

“Anything you’re especially looking for this week?” Beck asked, making room for some others passing them.

“You mean aside from ol’ Vernon’s face when everyone leaves his sweetener for mine?”  She adjusted her hold with a smug look. “I sure ain’t looking for what you drag in, Mr. Under the Fridge.”

“That was a year and a half ago!  How was I supposed to know why no one has ever brought ice to share?”  He fiddled with his bag strap. “Besides, it was still water!”

“Yeah, dirty water even the gardeners didn’t want to take!”  She stopped to cackle, careful to keep hold of the pot.  “I’ll tell you what, you may not be good for trades, but you are fun to watch!”

Beck rolled his eyes, still tugging the belt.

“Come on, you know I’m messing with you.”  She reached up and tousled his hair, perfectly restoring his bed head before he could duck away.

“Tally!”  He complained as he worked on mitigating the damage, but the dimples on his cheeks betrayed him. “I know, I just don’t remember the last time I really got congratulated beyond pity points.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Becky, you’ve done plenty.”  She said, then pointed her chin down the path. “The market’s just ahead, and you brought stuff, right?”  He nodded, not meeting her eye. “Exactly.  Even if you hadn't, and even if you never did and never will, you are a part of this community, Becky, and that makes you worthy.”  She squeezed his shoulder.  Then she punched it. “Now get set up fast because I ain’t setting this anywhere but a prime stall, pretty boy!”  She proceeded to run with surprising agility, leaving Beck in her trail.

The man sputtered, shook his head. “God help me if I ever do understand her, it means I’ve lost it, too.”  She may be right about him, but she was also right that he should get a move on lest he have to set up on the floor outside.

He entered a much deeper path, leading to the market site.  It was in the very center of the building, and it led to an immediate, metal opening.  Early birds sometimes had to open this mesh doorway themselves, but at this time, it was held open to welcome all.  He stepped through it alongside a few others, and entered a large metallic chamber with grated side walls and a ceiling, unlike the solid steel of the entrance wall and the one Beck was facing.  Before that wall, though, were dozens of people like him, but also in all different shapes and sizes. Most stood behind stalls with miscellaneous scraps and crafts, some sat behind their set ups, others just gave from their own hands as they passed.  Tallulah was already at a dark wood table making faces at salt and pepper man with his own container of white shards, making Beck’s smile widen.

After a bit of searching, he discovered an unclaimed counter.  He quickly made his way over, swinging his pack off onto the rickety birch planks. From the corner of his eye he saw others closing in, doubtless with their own goods to trade.  He can’t leave them empty handed!  He rummaged through his things before giving up and upturning it and letting everything spill straight onto the table. An abundance of soft white cloth, and another bag, this one sealed plastic, tumbled out.  As the visitors strolled closer, Beck ripped open the opaque plastic, revealing its contents: several beige ‘O’ shapes, smelling distinctly of processed oats and honey.

“Come take a look at what I’ve brought,” Beck called to passers by, “There’s plenty more where this came from!”

[unhingedwomandiaries]

Today's the kind of day that makes me want to murder someone with their own shoelaces, except my shoes are too busy committing suicide to be of any use. Right in the middle of another mind-numbing day at the office, my right trainer decides to have a fucking nervous breakdown. The sole just gives up, like my will to live during Monday morning meetings.

Looking at its guts spilling out - all that synthetic shit that probably causes cancer in lab rats - I can't help but think it's a perfect metaphor for everyone in this cesspit of an office. We're all just walking around with our insides threatening to become our outsides, held together by whatever emotional equivalent of pound shop glue keeps us from completely losing our shit in the break room.

Then that absolute weapon x (who thinks he's Ernest fucking Hemingway because he drinks whiskey and owns a leather-bound notebook) decides to pull the most spectacular dick move. Copied the boss into an email about my work like we're all playing some twisted game of corporate Russian roulette. What a proper cock whistle. I bet he typed it with one hand while wanking himself off with the other, probably getting off on his own perceived cleverness.

Speaking of things that make me want to commit murder (which, let's be honest, is most things), found out today that x's gotten herself hitched again. Yeah, that x. The one whose husband - my friend - decided to check out early last year. Five months she's known this new bloke. Five fucking months. I've had spots that have lasted longer than that.

Christ on a unicycle, what is wrong with people? It's like grief has a fast-forward button now. "Sorry your husband topped himself, love, but here's a replacement model with 20% more hair and probably a smaller cock." I mean, I get it - life goes on and all that bollocks. But five months? That's not even enough time to finish a Netflix series, let alone decide you want to legally chain yourself to another human being.

Maybe I'm being a right bitch about it. Maybe this is what healing looks like - jumping into another marriage faster than I go through wine bottles. But fuck me sideways, it feels wrong. Like putting a plaster on a gunshot wound and calling it medical care.

At least my disintegrating shoe makes more sense than human relationships. Though that's not saying much - a lobotomized hamster makes more sense than most humans I know.

Tomorrow I'll probably drag myself to Sports Direct and buy new trainers, because that's what functioning adults do, apparently. Or maybe I'll just let my feet slowly decompose along with my faith in humanity. Seems fitting, really.

The truly fucked up part? This isn't even close to my worst day this week. Welcome to my life, you lucky bastards.

[j-a-smiths-blog]

1900 7Nov24: Chapter 312

Tired

Another day of traveling to physical therapy... then a beat down at therapy followed by a drive home...

Hope tomorrow I can find it in me to get back to work on my one sixth scale building. I think while the wife sleeps I can take my things and head into the kitchen area and work on the planking of the floor of the building. This way I'd see how far I can get with what I got available and then when she wakes up we can run up to buy some more super glue and possibly some more jumbo popsicle sticks to continue and finish the floor!

I'll just use wood glue to attach it to the deck. I'll have to get the guys out to make it look like they are doing the work! Gotta have some Instagram storyline fun!

[domi-scu]

Welcome, Filip.

The bed was far from comfy and so I was thankful when the alarm went off at 7 (or, according to Alex, 'at 5am??!' due to +2h timezone) so I had a reason to get up. It took almost an hour to convince him that I will starve to death if we don't go for breakfast and in the meantime, I attempted yoga. But without touching the carpet cause it was pretty questionable.

At breakfast, Alex made friends with an old man who was having a cigarette. In a mix of Russian, Romanian and English while I just listened and tried to get through my coffee to feel a bit more human.

First things first, we needed to find some suncream. It didn't take too long but somehow, I smeared it all over my crop top so the white stains on my boobs now look extremely questionable. We found out yesterday that couple of friends who are also coming to the wedding on Saturday are in Sofia too so we set out to meet them. Big kudos to this city for planting Linden trees around the roads. It smells really nice although my hayfever is not happy and my brain is itchy.

At this point, it was time to meet with Rasto and Eliska and figure out if they have any touristy plans because we are completely winging it and have no plan whatsoever. Turns out, their plan was as non existent as ours so now we were winging it together.

They took us to a pub in a park that they visited yesterday. The walk there lead past a famous church which we tried to go into but Eli's dress was too short and the guys were wearing shorts so, somehow, I was the only one allowed in (in a crop top). So since there was obviously no hope for our souls, we settled for beer.

We also realised we're planning to take the same train to Burgas the next day. We let Alex book the tickets (1st class!) online as he is the only one able to read Cyrillic and that was sorted.

One lunch later, we stopped for another drink/ coffee, which is when we realised that the groom to be will also be landing in Sofia this evening. And well.... Not like we have anything better to do, right? How about we go wait for him with a ridiculous sign? As he later pointed out 'only you guys can spend your one day in Sofia by looking for a stationery shop where people speak English.' like it's hard...

Let me put it this way... The sign involved a lot of pink cardboard, pink glitter glue that wouldn't dry, some very inappropriate inside jokes translated into Bulgarian and tears of laughter. While we were working on this masterpiece, Filip (the groom to be), informed us that he actually won't have time to meet us tonight and he'll see us in Sozopol before the wedding. Oh sweet summer child...

I'll be honest, our signs got many laughs and we were debating whether he still had enough time to uninvite us from the wedding but he seemed to love it. And since we were already there, he said he might as well have a pint with us. The number of mosquitoes was rather unfortunate because by the time we finished out drink and pizza, we were eaten alive but what can you do right... Buy a repellent I suppose. That's definitely on the agenda tomorrow.

Wish us luck with the train to Burgas, we were told that the train tracks sometimes get stolen.

[frogsandfries]

Happy Friday

(Yes I know it's Sunday)

Ugh. There's a building inspection, which means strangers in my home, which means I have to do a little more cleaning than usual. It's not a lot, something I can get done in an afternoon, just some deeper cleaning that I always end up neglecting, but I want/needed to go out tomorrow.....

I'm getting a small order of groceries tomorrow, just a few things to try to use up some more of what I already have, plus some snacks.

My personal leisure work playspace is....... well, only an artist would understand. I've got one kit of diamond painting drills in those little ten to a pack dollar store containers and another kit of drills in those round, eight compartment dollar store containers. My printer is in clear disuse pending me buying some ink cartridges that are meant for refilling, and also pending this move and casing in those text blocks that I've abandoned. Then I have this wooden pen/cil organizer that's bursting with everything from permanent markers and colored pencils to glue impregnated brushes, scissors, my punch cradle and my paper cutter. Oh, let's not forget this little catcher thing, again from the dollar store, that was probably meant for a bathroom and is overflowing with little shit like those highlighter tapes, the washi cutoffs that I've been using to grid out my diamond paintings, as well as line the glue at the edges. DAC is really good at placing their glue, but it always has that teeeeeeeny tiny little bit at the edge that will catch grime. So I've got these extraordinarily thin washi cutoffs. Anyway.

Mostly, I have to vacuum and wipe the mirror and the tub and wash the kitchen counters. And take out any accumulated garbage. Just because the rule is, no garbage on the floor, there's still shit that Pickles, my boy, ferrets off with. Whenever I crumple a receipt or food wrapper, he wants it. And then there's the actually garbage that I give to my cats to play with, like paper bags and paper towel rolls, and the boxes I leave around for them to play with for a while. Speaking of those boxes, this mattress box is pretty well done for about six months ago. But Pickles likes to "dig" in it. If my sister makes a catio, I'm putting a box of dirt out there.

Anyway, enough fretting. I have plenty of time to get the entire apartment inspection ready and still run out to Walmart and Whole Foods and get that piercing.

Now is time for numbering my bead pattern so I can give it a spin. Literally. As I'll be beading it in the round.

[mysteriouslysporadicbasement]

He appeared from his room, freshly showered, towel round his neck. It took him 247 seconds more than usual to finish washing up. Was something the matter? Walked up straight to the sofa where I was sitting and took up the other end. He was not thinking straight. Where was the bottle of water he usually has?  The scent of citrus from his shampoo got on my nerves. He's using a new one. I needed to change mine too, then.

'What about dinner?'

The casualness of my tone was an irony. I'd serve him the meat off my back on a plate if he ever joked that he wanted it.

I fix my eyes on the bags under his eyes. He's tired. Men had a way of appearing unscathed in front of the world. The moment he stepped inside the house, all the exhaustion would show up on his features, like invisible ink surfacing under heat. I liked watching him like that. That meant he was comfortable in here. Even though we're just roommates. He didn't mind, me seeing him like this. Or maybe he couldn't care less. Either way, I'd take it. I'd take in his existence anyway I could.

'I ate.'

That's all he said. I wished he would elaborate. What did he eat, who did he eat with, was it good enough? I wanted to know more; from his mouth anyway.

His still form on the other side of the couch made him appear like a statue. He's looking at the TV screen. He was here yet he felt miles away from me. I wished to feel his gaze in my bones.

His shoulders are tense. I read the distress off him like my favorite riddles. This time of the semester are always hell. What could be bothering him today? Was it that professor who refused his submission for a 2-minute delay? Was it that exchange student that won't leave him alone? Was it his mother that never knew when to shut up over the phone?

All he had to do was give me a hint. Just a crumb, however little. The things I’d do for him could not be limited by anything humane or inhumane. Who knows, maybe I already have crossed those limits before. Nothing fazed me when it came to him. His unawareness of this fact only fueled my devotion.

"Whatever it is," I thought, "I'll find out myself. And I'll make it go away. I will take care of you; in ways you cannot imagine." Love, it was not. Mere love could never explain this. I wouldn't know what to do with him if this, whatever this is, was ever returned. The thought turned sour in my head. 'God, I hope not.'

'Today was your day off?' He was still distant. His eyes not moving once from the screen.

'Yes, I watched Netflix all day.' The lies rolled out of my tongue smoother than a recited script. I didn't watch Netflix all day. I watched him.

Off days meant my favorite entertainment. I watched him in the cafeteria, having dinner. I saw him buying an apple juice from the vending machine instead of Gatorade, because his insufferable mother told him to. I watched some girl bump into him because she was on her phone. He almost fell on his face. I did not like that. So, I had to take care of that too. I hope she'll learn not to glue her eyes on the phone all the time, if she ever gets a new one.

'You don't look well.' I voice out, feigning concern. Whatever he looked like, it always seemed the same kind of beautiful to me. 'It's nothing.' His eyes finally tore away from the screen. He smiled at me or tried to. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the screen.

He sighed. His frown deepened.

One, two, three- deep lines appeared on his forehead.

He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation.

‘You wish you could do that, don’t you?’

I immediately cringed at the thought. No, I did not wish that.

I wished to keep him in a glass box in my room, so I could stare at him all day.

Untouched and Clean, all mine to admire.

'I'm...going to go to bed, my classes start early tomorrow.' He stood up and left without waiting for a reply. I knew who that was. He owed money to someone. The calls were getting frequent. He had enough time to sort it out himself, I decided then. I stood up.

I had errands to run.

I walked out into the chilly night, wrapping my coat tighter around me. It was dark out, shielding my surgical gloves from the questioning eyes of any passerby. The taser in my pocket never felt lighter.

Turns out, I was also in need of some money that I needed to borrow.

I patted the inside of my coat, feeling the thin blade in place. My second most prized possession. Very handy for keeping things discreet. I had tested it on myself, and it passed with flying colors. Knives only made things messy. One stroke of this, on a spot vulnerable enough, and it would bleed anyone’s lights out in 15 seconds, give or take.

'Maybe you could keep something of his, for your collection.'

My heart picked up at the thought. The blood pumping in my ear got louder. The pulse near my throat sped up. Maybe I'll go for the hands, to make it look like a suicide. That was safer.

‘But the sound out of his throat when the trachea is punctured deep enough, the cascading of the blood to the lungs; cutting off oxygen supply, the mouthwatering rich crimson painting the snow, and the eyes…oh, the eyes that’s going to give away his will to live a second longer and the fear, the regret, the pain-’, I breathed and stopped in my tracks to calm down.

'Haven't smiled this big in a while', the voice inside my head sneered.

I haven't, have I? Looks like Christmas came early this year.

[windydrawallday]

This is a nice way to poke around peeps, batty buddy! Thanks for leaving this open to grab (I hope what I'm doing in replying like this is fine)

Alright, let's unpack:

Currently, I'm working on 6 sequential artworks for my usual rarepair because I have a month without doing something for them and since the past year I have this thing dated to be posted on 11/11 (tomorrow).

Tho, a few hours ago I finished setting up a cardboard box to be my new photoshoot lightbox... tho I will need to delay the testing of it because I discovered my trusty lightbulb lamp broke u_u

This was quite a sunny weekend! Today the sun was so strong it helped to dry clothes and of course, the glue and painting I applied to the cardboard box I mentioned before x) So, it was a productive weekend with what I can manage in my current creative energy.

You already know what project and why I'm excited about it coff ISAID-

I doubt you want to know how many WIPs I put off for years. LMAOOO, there are too many to count, but if I need to pick one, it's making a Meet the Artist sort of presentation (I have the sketch, but I haven't inked it… since February orz).

My color scheme to go is usually the Magenta/Cyan/Yellow combo, LOL, but I like to pick other colors from this palette!

Show finished recently: Batman Animated Season 01! It is one of my oldest visual inspos, with the clear sharp grimdark + art deco mix that characterizes the cast and mature themes it shows. Show started recently: Scooby Doo Mystery Inc; I'm taking so many screenshots because the backgrounds with those grunge textures and abandoned feel is hella rad!

Comfort characters: I've been with the same rascals you know for three years right now. Four? LOL It's difficult for me to get attached this hard and for a long time to fictional characters. Though I can't call him a comfort character, I enjoyed the Penguin on Batman Animated! There was an EP where they let him show such an awkward and gentlemanly side that I just WANTED TO SQUISH HIM.

Books read: AFTER THREE YEARS I FINISHED KING'S DANSE MACABREEEEE. I saved lots and lots of QUOTES I will be citing and using in my work for decades to come MUHAHAHA coff I want to start reading NEXT YEAR Frankenstein: I left it half there idk why so, I will need to start over. It's for the better.

Someone that inspires me… Y O U The end

Re-reading/Rewatching: in my bookcase, I always have The Little Prince and Lovecraft Anthologies (quite the contrast, eh?). Now if we go very personal-intimate: Neverending Story will always be absolutely groundbreaking to me, it really deserves its in-book title of "the book of all books". In the movie department, I'll never get tired of Scooby Doo's animated movies between 1990-2000s, the animation and storytelling were top! In a memory stick, I have tho Treasure Planet and Atlantis: Los Empire for similar reasons.

About the rewatch/re-reading effects mmm I think it affects me but to certain games: movies and series are unilateral in interaction, with games the interaction depends on you and I admit even if I like a game with all my might… there's always a level or part of the story I loathe to do again orz

Collecting wise: I never was into it until robot hell tackled me and it made me brave to spend and be more versed in buying this or that figures and toys was quite an experience. Out of that… I print official artworks and plaster them in collages around my journal, that counts? xDU I don't live in a place where merch is easy to get. And yes I draw fanart so technically I printed my own merch too skdfhskjdhf

Laughing is a rare thing from me daily I'll refrain from replying because *explodes*

I personally see my art better as stickers and postcards in format… I never designed art for t-shirts and such… or even tattoos idk, I feel a tad uncomfortable in general to take my art in such bold ways? Something rare because I worked before doing logotypes and such mmmm

I'm stupidly multifacetic x'D From drawing traditionally and digitally with inks, watercolors, and acrylics to then sculpting with clay, and cold porcelain to then designing maquettes for packaging (I'm learning to use the cutting plotter) without counting baby steps knowledge on game coding… I would LOVE to sew my own plush toys but %D I don't have that level of patience… same with SCULPTING IN 3D??? Idk, that's witchcraft to me!

… Too many hobbies you can guess from what I said before this point HAHAHA Aside from character design and goofy worldbuilding mmm Board game design? Big dream of mine.

Something new I learned: using the cutting machine!!! Was like going back to my Illustrator era roots sdkfjhsdjf On a personal level… I turned back to my witchy side and created my first magic servitor, my first spell on the 31 of October and I'm excited to try more things during rituals!

I think I have enough of this year? Even if at times I feel like it won me over… it wasn't so bad. But I need to take action in setting more habits I left aside like walking more frequently and respecting my sleep schedule (I slipped bad so many times in the year, I think that's why I'm feeling so sleepy lately).

That's all I think! I hope you find it educative entertaining haha

Thanks once more for the opportunity x)

To bring a bit more social into social media…

Tell me what you’re working on!!

How’s you’re weekend going?

Do you have any projects or plans you’re excited for?

What’s one thing you feel like you need to work on but keep putting it off? (could be a wip or practice with drawing backgrounds, house hold chores ect.)

Do you have a color / color scheme you are obsessing over right now?

Have you watched any shows/movies you really fell in love with?

What is your favorite comfort character right now??

Have you read any good books lately? What cute characters in there made you laugh or smile?

Who is someone that inspires you?

What is a show / movie / book that is so precious to you that you keep reading it over and over again?

Can you reread / rewatch a beloved thing over and over or does that bug you?

Do you like to collect merch from favorite shows, or are your favorites so obscure you have to make your own??

What’s one thing you’ve seen online recently that has made you laugh?

Do you enjoy making your work / pieces into wearable art? (making merch ect.)

Do you like to do artistic things? ( Draw, write, music, sewing, jewelry, scultping, crafts)

What hobbies do you have?

Have you learned anything new this year?

If you could learn one new thing this year what would it be?

[hmnbd]

christmas/new years dialogue prompts 🎄

happy holidays! I've been quite busy lately, but I wanted to do something to celebrate this time of the year, so here are 25 dialogue prompts inspired by christmas, new years, and all things around the holidays. feel free to use them on your fics, wips, rps or whatever else you wish, just as they are or edit them to fit your muses/characters better. whether you celebrate it or not, I hope your year ends on a positive note and that 2022 brings you nothing but joy and love. happy writing!

"you really thought I wouldn't see you spreading mistletoe around the house? I'll kiss you if you just ask"

"my hands might be cold, but I promise my hugs are warm! I missed you so much, come here!"

"my only resolution is to love you even more next year"

"you will never guess what I got you as a gift! okay, fine I'll tell-"

"yes, new years is just people celebrating another lap around the sun, but it was another lap around the sun with you. it was special!"

"did you just glue a picture of me on the star and put it on the top of the tree, oh my-"

"should you ever need a family to spend the holidays with, there's always room for one more in my house"

"in my defense, no one bothered to tell me santa wasn't real until I was like 15"

"I don't need any gifts now that I have you by my side"

"see? I told you running in the snow at midnight was fun!"

*points* "this gingerbread man is me. this one is you. and I know the house looks wonky but I promise our future home will be better than this!"

"will you give me the honor of being your first new year's kiss?"

"I absolutely despise ugly christmas sweaters. this one, though? I'll wear it even on my birthday, just because you made it yourself"

"no, I never really had any special tradition for the holidays while growing up. how about we start our own?"

"I don't know if the champagne has me seeing stars, but you look more beautiful than ever right now"

"it's so nice celebrating with you tonight. thank you for coming"

"your nose is red from the cold! you look like a cute little reindeer"

"I know you said you didn't care for gifts but I wanna spoil you, so deal with it"

"how about some hot chocolate by the fireplace? you look like you could use a break from your family"

"happy new year to you, my dear! and here's to another year of being by your side"

"you said not to buy you any gifts, so I made you a gift instead. come here and let me wrap you in this scarf, it's gonna look so nice on you!"

"these people are boring me to death. wanna go shopping for a christmas tree instead?"

"I actually know how to play jingle bells on the piano. wanna listen?"

"I just realized I get to celebrate this with you every year. I'm so lucky"

"you know what would make me really happy? to wake up at 7 am tomorrow just to go outside and build a snowman before everyone else wakes up"

[minilpark]

can you do a phoenix fic where rooster helps set up phoenix and fem reader on a date bc he’s the readers bff🫶

now, yall know how i feel about wlw phoenix- i am sCREAMING ROLLING IN MY GRAVE RN AAAA aND WINGMAN ROOSTER FUCK I LOVE TO SEE IT

y/c/s - your callsign

honestly you couldn't tell half the time phoenix talked to you if she was flirting with you or not-

the things she said, the way she said them, and the look she gave you, it would stick in your mind like glue

especially after training, when you were walking back with your wso, phoenix would catch up to you (with bob and rooster not too far behind)

"hey, y/c/s! hot flying back there- that maneuver was great, you should teach me sometime" she says while winking

of course once again, you were a loss for words

"i- ah.."

so, this time, your wso, callsign stryker, stepped in

"yeah she'd love to show you sometime 'nix, let us know when!"

honestly you couldn't thank him enough for stepping in before he headed out

but before nat departed for the locker rooms, rooster caught up and threw an arm around you

"hey, you guys wanna come hang with me at the bar around 8? drink are on me~"

which instantly drew phoenix in

"hell, if you're buying i'm down! you, y/c/s?"

rooster just squeezes your shoulder and you nod slightly

"ah- yeah i'll be there, 'specially if roost here is offering!"

once he hears your confirmation he just slaps your back and runs off

"alright ladies y'all better not be late or deal's off!"

you and nat just laugh slightly and walk off to the locker room to get out of your flight gear and head home

once you hopped out of the shower, you had the problem of picking out an outfit, so you called rooster up for help

what possessed you to call him besides the fact he was your best friend was past you

he didn't have the best style as some would say (more namely, hangman)

but you needed a second opinion so he came as fast as he could

in about five minutes, rooster was flipping through your closet while you were sat cross legged on your bed in your underwear

course it wasn't weird for either of you two because you've been friends for years

anyways, the next second you feel a pair of jeans being tossed at your head along with a cropped white blouse

"alright get changed and change your bra to...this" he said while holding up a black lacy number

the way your eyes widened made him snort

"bradley come on- all the sudden you have fashion skills and you decide to use them like this on me?"

he just shakes his head and tosses the bra at your head

"that was so backhanded i'm almost hurt y/n-"

you just roll your eyes and pull the high waisted jeans on

"alright thank you- now get out and wait downstairs we're gonna be late"

honestly, checking yourself out in the mirror, you looked good

and you felt good too

you were ready, you joined rooster in his bronco and you two arrived at the hard deck with 10 minutes to spare

course as soon as you sat and rooster grabbed a couple beers for you both, phoenix arrives

and your jaw dropped

anyone could say the outfit nat was wearing was a bit plain, but she looked great in anything to you-

once she joined y'all at the table, grabbing a beer on rooster's tab in the process, the three of you caught up on whatever shit has been happening in your lives off base

about a couple minutes in, rooster excused himself while you and nat continued conversation

for once, you didn't feel so nervous around her

probably due to the alcohol you two were consuming-

eventually, the conversation slowed to a stop when you two realised that rooster had actually ditched you two

"that bastard actually left-"

"well its not all bad is it, nat?"

for once, phoenix was the one caught off guard and left blushing

"well, no, we've got free drinks all night and i'm on an unofficial date with you"

you just raise an eyebrow at this statement and lean in closer to her

"well, how about we go on an official date tomorrow after i give you that flight lesson hm?"

you don't know what possessed you to have so much confidence, but phoenix definitely enjoyed seeing you step up

"hm, i'd like that y/c/s"