#anyway! my neighbors are great!

[tj-crochets]

So I've never really lived in a neighborhood that's like fully a community that supports each other before? I mean, there's been a neighbor or two that my family has been on like "exchange cookies at the holidays" status with, but not like my current neighbors, who made extra mini cheesecakes to share with us and made mine without the apple pie filling the others had so that I could eat it with my allergies (they are so nice and the mini cheesecake was so good!), who look out for each other and help each other move furniture and stuff? Anyway all that to say I really enjoy where I live now, and I have no photos to share for this afternoon's crafting update because my neighbor asked me to fix their dog's bed's cover and I removed and added a new zipper for them

[drwafton]

Made fanart of you-

I'm sorry if this version of you I made you a God-

"I have to say this art is well done! I wouldn't exactly call myself a god though. Still I appreciate it."

[alfredosauce50]

Matt going missing in the wilderness for 7 days and when the search party finds him, he looks better than he did before. Like his skin is glowing and it’s like he just went on a spiritual retreat or some shit

[cruel-hiraeth]

i would truly be the worst housewife of all time bc i hate cooking and i hate cleaning and i don’t want children. all i wanna do is live in a magically pristine home full of delicious food so i have all the more energy to focus on reading and writing disgusting smut

[colors-anon]

Auburn Logs!!

Hello hello! Auburn here; figured I'd write down a few things about myself here so here we go!!

First of all:some of y'all are probably wondering where I'm getting my bird facts. There's a simple explanation for this: my neighbors have been giving me their books for safekeeping for a while. Pictured below is an artist's rendition of the inside of my house currently.

I've mainly been reading out of a book called... uh... hold on, gimme a sec to copy it down... "National Audubon Society Birds of North America". Not exactly sure what north america is, or if these birds are actually real, but I do like looking at them!!

Secondly, I should probably explain a few things about myself as a person. So, a few fun facts:

-I really like to make jewelry and other things

-I love talking to people!! I'm not sure they like talking to me, though...

-I found design notes for this instrument called a kalimba, and I'm working on making one(albeit without most of the right materials)

Anyways, I think this log is drawing to a close, so bye folks!

[randum-famdoms]

GODS FUCKING DAMNIT WHY DID MY PARENTS DECIDE THAT A HOUSE LESS THAN 100 FEET AWAY FROM A HIGHWAY WAS A GOOD FUCKING IDEA

[dewitty1]

Saturday Six (Stuff)

So, apparently without my noticing, another of my annoying (drug dealing) neighbors moved out! I guess I'm really unobservant lol...Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

My vegetable plants are finally getting fruits! I've got cucumbers coming on and some yellow pear tomatoes.“ψ(｀∇´)ψ

I've been posting recipes on my Instagram. Not sure I have what it takes to be a great/popular food blogger, because I don't cook restaurant quality. I just cook "normal" homestyle food.(。-ω-)ﾉ

I'm trying to talk @astutesnow's gf into applying for an IT Tech job over here so they can both take care of me since I'm old now lol. But really, I just want their help to get a house so we can get out of this shite apartment.ヾ(◍’౪`◍)ﾉﾞ♡

One of my favorite fruits is ripe rn, nectarines, but holy hell they're expensive. I bought 4 and they were over 7$. I the local farm had them I'd definitely get them there instead.(๑•॒̀ ູ॒•́๑)

How is it July this week already? (;*´Д`)ﾉ

[nuclearforest]

"Don't hold back. I want you to scream my name" - briarrett 👀

Thanks for the ask! Wrote out a quick 1.5k and feel bad it took so long. Hope it's up to your standards!

When summer starts to rear its head and the spring rains give way to the dreary summer sky that perpetually hangs over all of England, Briar unfailingly brings out Barrett’s favorite sundress. It’s a cute little thing: white and lacy with a repeating floral pattern that shifts when the fairy moves in just such a way that every little tear and puncture from moments of overexcitement can be hidden with a quick stitch repair before being returned to the rotation—years old but still bright in color in a way reminiscent of a wedding dress and bouquet, tinted by nostalgia and preserved by delicate hands. Every time she wears it, the werewolf takes it as his personal invitation to step up behind her and slip his hands under the skirt, starting where the dress ends at her thighs and stroking up in offer while he presses his lips to her ear and rumbles possessively from deep in his chest where his heart races. For me?

“Who else?” Briar replies, chuckling to herself at the way her mate’s breath tickles the untamable flyaway strands at the side of her head. She sets the paring knife she was holding down on the cutting board with the strawberries she’d been preparing. He always seemed to gravitate to her in the kitchen—hip-height countertops helped.

“Well I thought you were going out with your girls today,” Barrett offers in return, stopping his ascent at the tops of her thighs while the drool pools in his mouth. Her skin under his is warm; her heartbeat picks up slightly in her chest. Just a bit more of that honey sweet scent that defined her wraps a bit further around his head and he ducks his nose into the crook of her neck to inhale it, nuzzling aside one of her two golden braids. Köstlich. [Delectable.]

“When have the boys gone to have a sleepover at Oma and Opa’s so I can go out with my friends?” The fairy quirks an eyebrow and leans back into her lover’s embrace. “You’re more than capable.”

“I am.” The werewolf’s voice drops deeper, temptation wrapped in rough velvet.

“I just thought you’d like to celebrate the season like you always have.”

“You spoil me, lapine.” [Bunny.] He presses a kiss into her skin, then, trailing gentle kisses out to the mate mark on her shoulder exposed by the wide sweetheart neckline while he rubs his thumbs in circles on her thighs. The little fairy in his arms, perfectly fit to his hands, presses further back into him—she’s too short to press her rear to his groin, but he’s already hardening against her lower back, above her pillowy ass, and he groans low appreciation into her skin. Je t'aime. [I love you.]

“I love you, too,” she returns, popping half a strawberry into her mouth for a quick bite. The werewolf at her back huffs, hands sliding further up and leaving sparks in their wake to rest on her hips. In the blink of an eye he’s got her flipped around and seated up on the counter, crowding into her space with a devilish smile on his lips and lust in his bright red eyes.

“A snack?” he asks, “At a time like this?” His eyes, pupils wide, flick down to the speck of juice at the corner of her lips.

The bold fairy just shrugs (he had interrupted her light breakfast, after all) and swipes her tongue out to clean the juice away. Content to do as he will, the overgrown giant leans over to press a kiss into her. He pulls her up to the edge of the counter where her legs spread and the skirt bunches up. The faintest notes of her arousal join the sweet aroma of strawberries and Briar in the air and the werewolf pulls back to survey her once more. She brings her arms up to wrap around his broad shoulders and one hand gravitates so she can tangle her fingers into the silver curls at the back of his neck.

“I’d hate to interrupt your meal,” he quips, sparing a hand to snatch another piece of strawberry, “maybe you’d like some cream to go with these.”

Before his lover can reply, he pushes the strawberry between her lips and leaves his fingers there for just long enough that she can caress the tips with her tongue. Both an invitation and gratitude in one quick gesture; he just leans in to kiss her again and get the taste on her lips. Barrett was not a man for strawberries, but he was a man for fruity kisses and bruised lips, observing the slight change in his lover’s demeanor with every piece of fruit until he’s straining against his pants and she’s soaking into him, panties forgone.

“You little minx,” he rumbles, “are you sure you’re not part succubus?”

“Would you like me to be?” Briar licks her lips and looks at him through half-lidded eyes, tightening her grip in his hair and pulling the werewolf in for another kiss, where he growls into her at the test against his patience.

Ja. [Yes.]

Soon enough they forget the remaining strawberries, hands roaming curves and bodies like every memorized surface is new again. Every shape and curve explored for the first time. Briar pants quietly and Barrett buries his head in her neck, mouthing at her skin and leaving love bites, teeth scraping against skin and bruises rising from the depths of her flesh to paint his path.

She sighs quietly, keeping a hold on his head as he kisses down her chest to the exposed tops of her full breasts before pulling back and leaning down to stick his head under her skirt, hand sliding down her side and along her thigh to pull it up over his shoulder. Faced with her cunt, he digs in, lapping voraciously as his tongue starts to lengthen and flatten and he takes up more of her, by far better than any fruit or meat or other food he could ever get his paws on. The fairy professes her thanks with the pillowy thighs quivering around his ears and the grip tightening in his hair.

“Don’t be shy,” he growls into her, “Don’t hold back. I want you to scream my name, love.”

“Barrett,” she breathes, and he takes that as a personal challenge, pulling back to look at her with his eyes dark and face deadly serious, pronounced jaw pushing at his lips with the tip of his nose blackened and glistening with her arousal. She stares back at him, green eyes wide and cheeks flushed red.  He releases her for just long enough that he can fumble with his belt, opening it with a click that has her jolting.

Respire— [Take a breath—]

Barrett shoves his pants and boxers down with a hand and steps back into her space, rubbing the head of his cock against her for a moment before lining up with her hole. Then, a low growl of warning.

—und schreien. [—and scream.]

The werewolf sheathes himself to his knot, baring his teeth and breathing harshly as he reaches back to grip his mate’s ass, holding her close as she gasps—a far cry from the scream he’d wanted—and arches her back into him. She flutters around him, adapted muscles trying to grip for his knot, and he groans lowly with his head tipped back.

His claws poke through the thin fabric and prick against her skin as he starts to move, grinding against her to get used to the wet warmth wrapped around him before pulling back and bucking in. Briar whimpers for him, mewling when he sets a brutal pace right at the start. The werewolf grits his teeth, nose crumpling as he bites back the urge to shift and ruin the angle he has into her on the counter; he turns his head down and begins to nip at the skin of Briar’s neck as she gasps his name.

Like a machine, he repeats the motion over and over again, building it up until she’s panting and crying out for him, legs wrapped around his waist with her ankles locked at his back as she begs for more. “Barrett please���”

Always polite. He turns his attention over to her mate mark, pulling her out and snapping fully in as he sinks his canines into her. That gets him a proper scream that peters out into a low whine. “Barrett! Please—I’m going to—I’m—I—I’m—”

His knot pops into her and starts to swell as she clamps down on him in a way that makes him see stars. Mine.

Tied, he starts to rock into her until he finds his own end, pumping jet after jet of seed into her as his breath fans out over her shoulder and she catches her breath against him, thighs twitching.

“Yours,” she answers, curling around him as best she can. He grunts and squeezes her rear, probably bruised in the shape of his hold, and smiles into her skin as best he can. They’d be repeating this same song and dance until Opa pulled into the driveway to drop the kids off again.

[pears-trinkets]

.

[ziggy-stardust-is-in-love]

One year ago I found a dead moth at the cove so I brought her up to higher ground and buried her while playing a funeral playlist 😭

[skyward-floored]

Can’t have a normal morning around here for anything YEESH

[anhonestdaysworkcomic]

just finished fully reading one of my reference books. Just bought three more

[sesamestreep]

Din Djarin, 30

30. was it worth it? (from this list) further adventures in that modern au with anti-social baseball cap wearing single dad din djarin because i have no idea what's happening on the show anymore, let's doooo this

Once Din pulls into the driveway, he cuts the engine and sends up a tentative prayer to the universe that the sound is not enough to wake Grogu up. The kid is zonked out in his booster seat in the back, clutching the stuffed animal Din had won him at the fair—at the booth where you shoot a target with a water pistol to make it move, of course, because his aim is still worth writing home about after all these years—and seemingly unbothered by the sudden quiet. Din breathes a sigh of relief and then shifts his focus to the daunting task of trying to get this kid out of his seat, up two flights of stairs, and into the apartment without somehow waking him. It's not going to be easy.

With another sigh, Din opens the door and keeps it there with his foot as he digs around in the center console for his phone and his wallet before pulling the keys out of the ignition. Belatedly, he sees the golden light pouring from the open garage door and realizes Cal must be working in there still. Before Din can properly catch up, Cal is already outside and on his way over.

"I'll uh," Din says, as he gets out, gesturing back at the car, "I'll get this out of your way in a few, I just gotta get the kid upstairs first."

Cal shakes his head, already smiling. "No rush," he says, easily. "We're not going anywhere. And besides, you're always up early anyway. Do it in the morning."

"I don't want to block you all in, if you need to—"

"Like I said, we're not going anywhere. It's fine."

"Well—”

"I'll ask Merrin, if it'll make you feel better! But she will definitely also say it's fine."

Merrin is Cal's—well, Din isn't sure if they're married or not. Cal doesn't wear a ring and Merrin wears dozens, so it's hard to tell. They're definitely a couple, because they do that seamless first person plural thing all the time when they talk about each other, but if they happen to refer to each other in the third person, they just use each other's names, rather than “my spouse” or “my partner”, except for the time Cal—perhaps accidentally—referred to her as "my Merrin" and she made a face and mimed punching him in the stomach for it. They live on the first floor and generally manage the property because they know the owner, which means Cal has all of his tools and his work bench in the garage for his various projects and Merrin tends to the garden out back, which grows a bunch of vegetables and strange plants that Din isn't convinced should be able to survive in this climate. He suspects she has a way with these things but has never bothered to ask about it.

"I'll take your word for it," Din says, reluctantly. "And I appreciate it."

"No problem," Cal replies. "Need any help?"

Din opens the door and starts unbuckling Grogu from his seat. "Uh, I think I'm alright, but thanks."

Cal leans slightly back, so as not to be in the way when Din gently lifts Grogu out of the car and tucks him over his shoulder. "Wow, you really tuckered him out, huh?"

"Yeah. We went to the fair, the, uh, Apple and Trout something or other...?"

Cal laughs. "Peach and Chowder Festival," he corrects. "I know it well."

"This is a strange town."

"I know that too. Looks like you did alright, though."

"Yeah," Din says, gingerly lifting the tail of the stuffed shark in acknowledgement. Another parent at the booth had claimed it was a knockoff of some famous trademarked shark but Din doesn't know about all that. He only knows it was the next best thing in Grogu's mind when there were no frog or lizard plushes to be won. "He's happy, at least."

Cal tips his head to the side, curiously. "You didn't enjoy yourself?"

"Ah, well, you know...crowds and lots of noise and kids all hopped up on sugar...that's not really my thing. But it's not about me, it's about him, so..."

"Yeah," Cal says, with a small smile. He puts a hand gently on Grogu's back. "Bet that makes it all worth it, huh?"

Din suddenly feels very stupid for never bothering to ask Cal or Merrin if they have kids. He’s never been great at that stuff, asking the right questions to really get to know people, and so he can only guess what their situation is. He thinks they're about his age, give or take a few years, and that means they're young enough that, if they had any children, he expects they'd still be living together, but he's not sure about that. They could have kids old enough to be living on their own, he supposes. And they've always been kind to Grogu, never once making a snide comment about him not talking much or needing his space sometimes, the way some other folks do. Sometimes, Cal will even let the kid hang out in the garage to watch him work, waving away Din's concerns about him being too much trouble by pointing to Beady, the cat that's almost always curled up around his neck or perched on his shoulder.

"If I can work with this one around," Cal's fond of saying, "your son's no bother."

Still, Din's not sure how exactly to ask that politely—if they have children of their own or not—especially if the answer is more complicated than a simple yes or no. And there is something complicated and sad about what Cal's expression is doing right now.

"Anyway," he says, cheerfully after a moment, and the expression is gone, tucked away somewhere. "I'll get out of your hair. Just wanted to offer some help if you needed it."

Din clears his throat, thinking about how his therapist is always talking about how he should get better at accepting the kindness other people offer him and also something about how his upbringing had convinced him there's some nobility in suffering needlessly. He probably can get Grogu inside and into bed without any assistance, but it would be easier with help. There had also been a discussion in therapy about depriving people of the satisfaction of showing their love for him by turning down their offers to be of service.

"Actually," he says, feeling foolishly nervous about something so small and seemingly easy, "if you could grab the door for me, that would be a huge help."

"Of course," Cal says, with an easy smile. "Happy to."

"And let’s just, uh, make sure we don't lose the shark,” Din says, as they make their way up the steps. “I don’t think I have it in me to win another one.”

[steviescrystals]

there is no feeling worse in the world than missing your grandma :/

[br1ghtestlight]

the worst part about living in my own cat-friendly apartment is my weekly habit of looking at local cats up for adoption as if im going to adopt a cat????

[arctic-hands]

Someone else on one of my genealogical groups asked for how to access records on the Service du travail obligatoire, France's slave labor program to Nazi Germany. I've been looking for online access to those records for years since I found my great-grandparents in the Arolsen Archive as forced laborers in Munich. I can't help this person because I still haven't found that resource so I'm throwing it out here, anyone know where I and this other person (whom I am presuming is also American) can find records or other resources?