#as always sundays are incredibly difficult days for me

[thiqskull]

i’ve always yearned to be someone cool. someone mysterious, some whose blog you stalk and think to yourself “they must be so cool” in the same way i do with others.

i’ve always wished to be more interesting. more deep. someone who reads philosophy for fun and has a deep knowledge of almost everything. someone “gifted”. someone talented.

i do not know how to explain it but i always wish to be someone else, someone i can never be.

and instead i am a simple creature, with mundane interests, shallow, unremarkable.

never noticed, always forgotten.

why can’t i like myself for who i am? why do i need to have the same level of beauty of aphrodite and the same talent as the most loved authors, painters, musicians in order to be remembered, cared for, loved?

and i realize these thoughts are unfair to the ones who DO love me, care for me, but this unhappiness with myself is so deeply rooted that i don’t know what to do with it, and it’s becoming more and more frustrating the more i grow up.

[roaringroa]

they should make a life where you don't have appointments, work, school and scheduled events every single day for months on end

[sharkiethrts]

hi! speaking of ur modern sunday…i’d like to request sunday x reader, where reader is absent because they’re sick and sunday just spends the entire day trying not to mope before he visits them. just smth rlly silly where he’s on student council etc having to try to subtly text his s/o.

robin is kind of over him but who cares‼️

prompt: highschool!au reader is sick and responsibility ridden Sunday must ensure that the assembly goes on without a hitch, despite his worries for her.

warning: none.

relationships: modern!sunday x gender neutral!reader (highschool!au)

author’s note: so sorry for the late response! I was eagerly awaiting for the day when I can finally work on this! :) (Two more exams to go, exams should end by Friday. Wish me luck!)

This is also not reread and is posted late at night, so do forgive me for any type of grammatical or spelling mistakes or if the pacing of the story is too rushed!

- Highschool au! Sunday is so obviously the president of the student council

- He is popular among everyone and when it was announced that he was running for president, everyone accepted defeat and simply resorted for vice presidents and secretaries roles instead (the surplus of people that signed up for vice presidents that year were daunting, hoping for a chance to work closely alongside him)

- Prior to his appointment as president (which he was rightfully confident in winning), he had always made sure to spend time with you after school (even going as far as to not sign up to any clubs for the michaelmas term after you jokingly chastised him for ‘prioritising Mrs Burns, TA of the reading club’ instead of you)

- However, post appointment Sunday found it difficult to make compromises like so, much to his chagrin- with the added rewards, the necessary expectations would naturally accompany and hence his dilemma:

- Oh, how the thought of you ailed with a cold squeezes his heart so, his hand itching towards his phone every second

- He’s sure that his composure will fall soon and that it’d only be a matter of time

“Please ensure that the seventh up until the twentieth seats are marked, it’s reserved for the parents visiting today,” Sunday reminds the flushed boy, clearly not used to the responsibility he is expected to conform to and although Sunday attempts to maintain a composed facade throughout, it’d be a lie to say that he isn’t positively frustrated by how incredibly slow he is. Seriously, the drink aisle should clearly be placed inside the auditorium, not outside. It’s summer for goodness sake, by the time the guests arrive, the drinks will be diluted with ice and the honey would have been completely dissipated.

Speaking of honey, perhaps he should consider saving some for you. The Manuka honey booked specially for this occasion is known for doing wonders for your throat. Perhaps he should ask kitchen staff to pack a bottle or two for him? They quite adore him so, it shouldn’t be difficult for him to ask for a favour or two of this size. Interrupting his train of thought, it seems that the incompetent boy couldn’t stand having a supervising eye off him for even a second. Sunday watched in controlled horror as he dropped a tray or two, effectively denting the sides of the perfect sliver.

“Miss Amelie,” Sunday calls, his hand reaching for the back of the boy’s waist, helping him up, “Help him with relocating the treats, we can’t have dented sliver wares front and centre in the room.”

The said girl quickly arrives, her head down and stressed, “I’ll tell him what to do, don’t worry-“

“-I should hope that this predicament ends soon, I do have quite a few appointments to attend to,” Sunday cuts her off coldly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. It’s not uncommon for Sunday to become cold at times, if not outright off putting. With uneducated rumours of his OCD and what not. However, it seems that this doesn’t seem to be one of his tangents, rather, he seems… occupied.

Sunday mulls over the thought of your upset face, further dampening his mood. How incredibly horrible of him, despite his previous talks of marriage with you during your late night calls- he only feels more incompetent and ineligible for the title of husband. He’s not only inattentive but outright unsupportive. What type of boyfriend who asks for your hand in marriage would leave you all alone in your bed fighting a cold alone? His frown deepens and he catches a few of the volunteers flinch due to it, clearly worried that they may have triggered him somehow.

He flashes them a friendly smile, to which he sees them relax slightly to before tending to their duties quickly.

While making haste with the decorations and reading over the script he had prepared for the following speech (god forbid he reads off a script, it’s one his many pet peeves and he is not willing to entertain the thought of slacking off in his chase for perfection), he thinks of your voice when you had greeted him this morning via phone call. Despite your obviously tired disposition, you had taken the initiative to call him to motivate him for the following day, you seem to know him well enough to realise his unending infatuation with your voice (how embarrassing for him but he’s far too touched to care for it for now).

Despite your well wishes and intentions, the phone call left him with more guilt and worries than assurance.

‘I’m fine’, you had insisted, saying that you had managed to snack on cut apples for breakfast.

By the moment Sunday snaps out of his thoughts, he notices a crinkle at the side of the paper where his thumb laid.

He’s not composed at all.

“ Sunday?”

By the time the clock struck ten and the assembly had concluded, Sunday took it upon himself to rent a bike at a nearby bus stop rather than waiting for his driver, hoping to make a quick detour to your house instead (his adoptive father would never have allowed him to do so). He had recognised your address from your first date, where he dropped you off by your neighbour’s house to prevent you from getting teased by your parents (you had insisted and he obliged). Your mother was there to greet him by the door, clearly whiplashed by the sight of a disconcerted, red faced handsome boy standing at her front door. She quickly flashes him a look of familiarity, to which he feels happy at (you must have shown your mother pictures of him, his ears redden at the thought).

He could only hope that you showed her the good ones and that despite your mischievous peculiarity, you’d care enough to help him make a good impression.

“You look much handsome in real life,” Your mother comments when he enters.

Never-mind. You definitely took it upon yourself to show her the worst ones. He could only pray that they don’t include his baby features, where his bangs were chopped short, “I apologise for coming so late, I came as soon as the assembly had finished-“

“- I understand,” Your mother chuckles, “I’m more impressed that a teenage boy would make so much effort to care for a partner with a flu when it’s so close to midnight,” She hands him a glass of warm water, urging him to walk up the stairs to your room, “They’d heal in no time after all.”

He shakes his head decisively, “That’d be an unfitting behaviour for a husband.”

The once vibrant mood turned quiet in no time and realising what he had said, his cheeks flushed a vibrant red and his ears burned incessantly.

Your mother watches him with shell shocked expression, thankfully the glass had been on Sunday’s hand at this point, judging by how her hand had loosened immediately he had blurted the words out, the glass would have been on the floor otherwise. Which would have been unsightly for a first impression.

“SUNDAY!”

He hears your familiar yell, clearly happening upon his arrival and his words.

He had planned to scold you for your misdemeanours (showing your mother terrible pictures of him) but it seems that he had committed a far graver crime than you did: an impromptu proposal at hours so close to midnight.

“… I sincerely apologise. Please pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

Sunday wishes for the concrete floors to eat him alive.

[luvsreiner]

We (in this case me) need a fic where Toji and the reader have a somewhat sad relationship, where she has to deal with being placed in the shadow of his deceased wife, but she becomes pregnant and arguments begin because , how dare you try to do this? He initially rejects the pregnancy, taking into account that he already had megumi and didn't want another baby, he didn't want his old family to be replaced or whatever, whatever the reason, but over time he starts to accept it.

The problem is that he doesn't show this, he just continues to refuse to get involved and this makes the reader understand that she would be a single mother even in marriage and that despite her doing everything she could, she didn't belong to that family as she would have liked, so she leaves after saying goodbye. of a Toji who would go to work and a Megumi who would go to school. She leaves and leaves the divorce papers on the coffee table with a letter talking about how she felt and how she needed to distance herself.

So when Toji comes home and notices everything in silence, he thinks it's weird because she normally wouldn't leave everything off and go to bed before ten. He notices the letter and reads it, feeling mixed feelings as he thinks about the words she wrote.

As time passed and missing her became increasingly difficult to ignore, he decided to tell Megumi the truth about how she had left, correcting the lie about her traveling to visit her parents as he said before. So Toji has to deal with a barrage of questions and a child crying about how he had lost another mother, which made him even more worried and distressed about the situation. He gets in touch with her and tries all the time to find out where she was now, with the intention of visiting her and asking her to come back, but when he does so, she responds by saying that she no longer trusts his words and cannot see the feeling that he said he felt was true. With that, the conversation ends talking about the baby and how they would do it from then on, she gave some ways of dealing with what he accepted and from that day on, life as separated parents began. He would go to the appointments even if he was silent for most of them, he would be there on the day of the birth and help her because she was scared and he knew he had to support his (ex) wife in such a difficult time. When the child was born, they were blessed with a beautiful girl with dark hair like Toji, but her mother's appearance and it was one of the happiest days of their lives.

As incredible as it may seem, he helped her postpartum, and always visited them both when he wasn't at work, taking Megumi with him since he couldn't be alone and needed to create a bond with his little sister. As life went on, Toji managed to spend more time with the girl, now receiving her every weekend at his house, he always picked her up on Friday and took her on Sunday, and it was always the moments when he most felt anxious, despite always calling to talk to her (or just using it as an excuse to talk to you) and visiting the girl almost every two dayshimself by surprise while making dinner, he cleaned the wound and asked the girl more about the subject.

Apparently a tall, blond man was there quite often, taking a pink-haired boy with him and drinking tea with them. Did Toji worry about knowing who that man was, a friend or a boyfriend? Did you trust him so much that you took him close to your daughter? He didn't even realize that he repeated these questions in front of him after once again leaving the child at home. Your answer? He's a long-time friend who you recently got back in touch with. Nothing more, he already had someone waiting for him at home.It was a relief for Toji to hear this, he knew you didn't owe him loyalty, but the idea of ​​seeing you moving on made him bitter and even jealous. He said goodbye to you and went home thinking about the matter, that possible threat in the form of a friend was a turning point for him to make the decision to try to get your marriage back together. He opened the bedside drawer and pulled out the divorce papers that he hadn't signed yet, let alone sent to you, wondering why you never questioned him about it. He looked at the letters without reading them and tore up the paper when he saw his signature, they wouldn't need it anymore as they would soon be back.

*I don't know what he could try to do, but I think that could be left to someone with more ability to develop a story than me, hahaha. Sorry, I got a little carried away explaining the plot and ended up almost writing a one shot. Thank you if you read this far and sorry for any mistakes, I'm writing sleepily*

[sykokilljoyy]

If reqs are still open, could you do w2s harry x golden retriever!Reader? Like she’s just always happy and overjoyed? I’m curious to see their dynamic

WROETOSHAW X GOLDEN RETRIEVER!READER HEADCANONS

a/n: i am in love with whoever sent this anon. i love people w golden retriever energy they're my favs so this is my fav y/n concept ever ever. also quickly learnt i have no idea how to spell retriever it's so hard for no reason. love u all!! more writing coming soon x

firstly, this man is cuddly. i don't care who you ask, he's a real life teddy bear and i'm not accepting any arguments

so when it comes to you, and your very apparent love language of touch, this sweet man cannot stop his arms from opening to you.

2am, 6am, 11pm, no matter when, and no matter the reason, he can't deny how persuasive your giddy grin can be, and the puppy dog eyes, of course

you're his biggest supporter by a mile

he makes some toast?? round of applause for this man

you're so proud of him no matter what

and you make it so obvious, which he appreciates beyond words

you both come as a package

wherever he goes, you go – happily, with a smile on your face

to summarise the dynamic, it's a lot of heart eyes

the first time you both went public with the relationship, on a Sidemen Sunday of all places, the comments consisted of basically a lot of;

'oh my god the way they look at him is so cute'

'i can't get over the way they look at him'

'Y/N IS ADORABLE I CAN'T'

harry is a big gift giver

sometimes it's hard for him to convey his emotions with words, he can struggle with affection from time to time

but when things get hard and he can't tell you how much he loves you, you'll come home to a beautiful necklace, or tickets to a concert from favourite artist, or a romantic getaway somewhere expensive

you hop excitedly into his room to thank him

he's sitting at his desk, nervous, hoping his gift is telling you what he can't

him seeing your bright, loving smile and the buzz in your eyes makes his whole body relax and he finally finds the words

“i love you so much, y/n”

you jump to him, face buried in his neck, and he can't deny that the feeling of your embrace makes his heart sore out of his chest

one morning, after a long day the day before

you’re laying in his bed, barely conscious, your eyes still misty from sleep

immediately, you feel harry’s arms pull gently at your waist, bringing you towards him

his lips are on your cheek, hands touching your skin softly

he can feel your smile without even opening his eyes

“you know you reach for me in your sleep” he whispers, his voice is still haunted by sleep

“because i love you, and you’re always warm”

“you’re like a golden retriever, you know”

he feels you smile wider

the only downside of this dynamic, is when arguments arise

conflict is always natural in a relationship, and you do understand that

but you wear your heart on your sleeve, and your admiration for your boyfriend is so strong that when it gets rough, and maybe communication gets skewed, you find it incredibly hard

if he needs space, you find it difficult to keep your mind from him

you give him whatever he needs to get his head straight, and he does the same, but it rattles you a little, not being with him when you need to the most

but when he calls you one night, with his tone warm as honey, asking how you are, that he's missed you and he's ready to talk things through, your heart fills with happiness and relief

overall, it's the sweetest dynamic, and harry adores it

you're a bundle of joy with a heart of gold, and the love you have for this man, you're never secretive about it

he wouldn't ever change it for the world <3

[kwisatzworld]

Uccio Salucci: the good life

December 2008 by Mat Oxley

Uccio Salucci’s good life is living life with the world’s greatest motorcycle racer, handing him his helmet and gloves on the grid, topping up his energy drink in the pit, hanging out with him in Ibiza. In fact, everywhere Valentino Rossi goes, Uccio goes with him. It’s a bit like being God’s butler. There’s no doubt that Uccio lives the good life – travelling the world in first-class style with the hugely popular Rossi, who just happens to be his best mate as well as his employer. Uccio has been Rossi’s right-hand man since his earliest days on the GP trail, he’s like an extra pair of hands for the seven-time world champion. The old school friends have known each other most of their lives and are pretty much inseparable whether they’re in the paddock, partying in Ibiza or chilling out back home in Tavullia.

How old are you? I’m 29, same as Valentino.

How did you get here? We have been dear friends since we were four or five years old. We used to go to school together and after school we used to go minimoto racing together. Of course, Valentino was always faster. When he started travelling around and doing well in GPs he needed someone he could really trust to be with him, as all racers do. Valentino asked me to be his ‘main of faith’ and I said yes.

What do you do? My real job is to drive the motorhome to all the European races. I am also Valentino’s assistant, so he calls me bad names when things go badly and when things go well we share the happiness. I look after everything for him, all his kit, his leathers, helmets, gloves and boots, anything he hasn’t got time to do, I do.

What is the highlight of your job? Travelling, seeing new things, learning new cultures and, of course, being with an amazing character like Valentino. He’s a lot of fun to be with, in and out of the paddock. Of course, we do argue, we argue a lot, like women! The best moment of our time together was South Africa 2004, his first win with Yamaha.

What makes you tick? The engine of my job is wanting to win the race on Sunday, this is my main motivation, just like Valentino’s. You cannot do this job if you’re not hungry for victory.

Is it the easy life? It’s easy and it’s difficult. For sure it’s easier than a proper job, I don’t consider this to be a real job. It’s difficult to be with Valentino because he’s very famous, so he gets a lot of criticism, so you always have to stay calm about this kind of thing. But you get used to the lifestyle, it’s not a crazy life but an emotional life.

What’s your best-ever trip? I always enjoy driving the motorhome on long journeys, like to Jerez in southern Spain. The motorhome is always very crowded, there’s always four or five of us from Tavullia, with me doing all the driving.

What’s the best bike you’ve ever ridden? The Yamaha 990cc M1! I rode it twice in 2006, first at Monza, then at Valencia. Valentino let a few of us ride his bike. It was fantastic, the power and the braking were incredible, and the handling was so light and easy, like a bicycle. But I didn’t go very fast. For sure if I crash, I die!

What’s the secret of the good life? The secret of the good life in the paddock is to take everything lightly, not to take it too seriously. There’s a lot of pressures and if you focus too much on the pressures you don’t have a good time.

What would you swap about your good life? I don’t like it when Valentino gets criticised. The paddock is like a barber’s shop, everyone talks a lot, there’s a lot of bullshit, I don’t like that aspect of this world.

How often do you ride? I have an XT660 Supermotard, I go to the seaside from Tavullia. In the summer I never drive a car. Maybe I’m a little crazy on the street, especially on roundabouts: foot down, wheelies. But please don’t write that.

Who else has the good life? Rock stars!

You and Valentino like a party don’t you? Yes, of course, we love parties, but we’re getting older so we don’t party as much as we used to. We like to be with friends, eat a pizza…

So no more DC10? [A legendary Ibiza pill-popping club] We don’t like it anymore, the people are different now, Ibiza has changed.

What’s the best party you’ve been to? DC10 in 2000, before Vale bought a house in Ibiza. That was crazy!

What about girls? Some people think I’m a filter for Valentino’s girls but I’m not, maybe it would be nice. The problem of being with Valentino is that when a nice girl comes to meet us, she soon goes off with Valentino. He’s better looking, thinner, richer… and faster too.

Was the good life better in 1997 or is it better now? Those early days in GPs were unforgettable, the world championship was a dream come true for us but it was kind of like a game back then. We used to play, we were more natural in the way we carried on. Then we got older, racing got more serious and now it’s becoming more like a normal job.

What happens away from races? I’m with Valentino wherever he goes, like two normal friends, well, maybe not normal friends, but we are very good friends who get along well in all kind of circumstances.

And what good life after this good life? Recently I’ve started thinking about this but at the moment I have no idea. I will worry about this problem when I have to worry about it…

[burnthoneydrops]

I have a possible fic request! What about Benedict with a reader who gets easily flustered. He’s such a flirt and I feel like if he flirted with me, I would be so nervous and flushed that I couldn’t speak. No rush on the fic, and only if you want to!

Lots of love! :)

Subtle(tea)

A/N: Hey love! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you like it and sorry it took me so long!!

Word Count: 851

Warnings: none

Tea with the Bridgertons was not an unusual event for you and was something that made Sunday your favourite day of the week. The familiar wisteria comes into view as your carriage pulls in front of their house, signalling you were soon to be reunited with your favourite family- though you wouldn’t dare let your mother hear you say that. You spot Hyacinth ducking her head away from one of the upper level windows, her chestnut curls twirling behind her as she undoubtedly raced to alert her mother of your arrival. Their front door opens as one of the footmen lends you a hand for descending the short carriage stairs, and Hyacinth and Eloise are quick to meet you on their front steps. 

“Y/N you’re here! We thought you were never going to make it!” Hyacinth announces as she grabs your hand, pulling you faster up the steps. 

“Hyacinth Bridgerton, I will not have you bombarding our guest before they even have the chance to step foot inside,” Lady Bridgerton makes herself known from just outside the front door, giving a harsh look to Hyacinth before smiling at you. “It is always wonderful to see you dear,” she remarks as she leans in to give you a hug, forcing Hyacinth to let go of your arm. 

You laugh as you return her hug, “I’m simply glad you all find me entertaining enough that I keep receiving the invite”. 

“It would be so incredibly boring without you,” Eloise adds as the group of you walk through the house to the drawing room. 

“Tell me, is Anthony still pushing away every young lady of the ton?” You ask with a smile as you sit across from Hyacinth and Lady Bridgerton, with Eloise beside you. 

Lady Bridgerton rolls her eyes, “unfortunately so. He seems determined to make this much more difficult than need be. It appears to be a family trend”. 

“Talking ill about us again, Mother?” Benedict jokes with a tilt of his head as he leans against the drawing room door, sketchbook under his arm as normal. 

“Benedict!” Hyacinth smiles. 

“Oh Hyacinth, I believe Gregory was looking for you to test out his new marble set with him,” he passes on the information from his younger brother who had raced past him earlier. She lets out a gasp of excitement and runs off, waving a quick goodbye before dashing down the hall. Benedict makes his way behind the couch upon which you and Eloise were sitting and standing beside you. “Had I known we were to be having such appealing company, I might have scrubbed up better for the occasion,” he comments in a low voice, trying to avoid the two other pairs of ears in the room. 

You keep your head directed at the carpeted floor, hoping the blush growing on your cheeks was not so incredibly obvious. “So, is your father still away on his business overseas?” Lady Bridgerton asks you, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. 

“Indeed he is,” you nod, “he has about a month left abroad from what I gathered in his latest letter. 

“Well, if you and your mother find yourselves in need of companionship, you are more than welcome here at any time,” she offers you a warm smile. 

“For my sake if nothing else,” Benedict mutters, again keeping it between you two. You would be lying if you said you did not find the second son attractive, and the current attention was only making that more apparent. You clear your throat, hoping that it might disrupt your current train of thought. 

“Is everything alright dear?” Lady Bridgerton asks, and you hear Benedict chuckle quietly beside you. You can just about feel the slightly proud smirk on his face. 

“If I knew your reaction to me would be this strong, I would have acted like this sooner”. This man and his hypotheticals will be the death of you. 

“Yes, I’m just fine,” you nod, giving Lady Bridgerton the least awkward smile you can imagine as you feel your cheeks grow hotter by the second. 

“Every artist needs his muse, does he not?” Benedict whispers, pretending to adjust the sleeves of coat. Your breath stops, and you try your hardest to continue making eye contact with Lady Bridgerton, hoping she’s not too aware of the situation unfolding in front of her. “Well, I suppose I shall be off. Let you enjoy your tea and whatnot,” Benedict begins to walk back to the door. 

“You’re not going to stay for a cup dearest?” His mother asks, looking confused. 

“Not today, Mother. I believe I have accomplished all that I needed to do here,” he looks directly at you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I had some painting to catch up on”. And with that, he is gone. 

“Did he seem strange to you, Eloise?” Lady Bridgerton asks her middle daughter. 

“Not any stranger than usual,” she shoots you a quick glance with a mischievous smirk on her face before looking back at her mother. Perhaps you were not as subtle as you once thought.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - July 7 - Week 27

Sorry this is so late in the day, friends! I spent most of the week visiting my ailing grandfather--we know he’s got very little time left, so grabbing a chance to get to see him was really great, but it’s got all my days off and I just realized it’s Sunday! So you get six fic today as a bonus for being so late in the day. Remember to leave some comment/kudos for the authors who’s stories you enjoy! 

*

how light carries on endlessly by meidui

“I'm fine. I always heal up fine.”

“Do you?” Tony asks, two little words flaying Steve open. Steve looks up at him, and against the dusky light, Tony Stark strangely looks nothing like his father.

-

Between a near-drowning in the Hudson River, a panic attack in the middle of a mission, and a kidnapping, Steve learns to be happy.

my thoughts: ok. So. Listen. If you read one fic off the list this month, make it this one. The care in how Steve’s mental health is handled in this fic, both by meidui and Tony, is just very very special to me. I loved the twists on canon, and the slow growth of their relationship and just how broken Steve is allowed to be, because he never gets that in the MCU and dammit, he lost his whole world he should be given time to grieve and heal. ANYWAY. It’s excellent. Go read it. 

you've really missed a trick when it comes to love by meidui 

Steve thinks he’s happier than he’s ever been, or at least he should be. This is the closest he’s ever come to having everybody he loves in one place and the Compound doesn’t echo with emptiness anymore, and he’s seen more of Tony in the past few months than he has in the last seven years.

He’s still getting used to being with Tony again, this softer, older version of him, and how difficult that makes keeping his hands to himself because all he wants to do is touch him.

my thoughts: i’m a huge sucker for the way that @meidui portrays Steve and how soft she is with him, and this was just--incredibly well done. 

good enough for you by tinystark616

Steve is having self-esteem issues because he feels like he isn't good in bed. Tony finds out and decides to do something about it.

my thoughts: Steve being so worried and Tony being so incredibly satisfied with their sex is just. So good. 

Through the Dark Tide of Memory by scifigrl47

As the Human/Kaiju war drags on, with no end in sight, the occupants of the Malibu Shatterdome have come to be known, worldwide, as the Avengers. No matter how many Jaegers fall, how many battles are lost around the Pacific rim, the Avengers will always come to the rescue.

Until, of course, there's no one left...

my thoughts: Pacific Rim is my not so secret guilty pleasure, and this fusion is just so well done, I love it, especially that @scifigrl47 delves into not just the pilots, but the people who make the jagers work, and why they are so important. Utterly perfect. 

Heavy is the Head that wears the Crown by BladeoftheNebula

“Just remember, and this is essential, you call the King ‘Your Majesty’ during the first introduction and afterwards it’s ‘sir’. Queen Maria is likewise ‘Your Majesty’ and thereafter ‘ma’am’, and Prince Anthony is ‘your royal highness, the Prince of Wales’, and ‘sir’ thereafter.”

Steve was never going to remember all this. Thank god he was never going to meet any of them.

When Steve Rogers moved to London he was expecting the bad overpriced flat and the metric system.

What he never could've expected was that the heir to the throne would fall for a skinny asthmatic from Brooklyn.

my thoughts: i am picky about pre-serum steve fics, but this series does it so well, plus the royal Tony aspect is just--perfection. 

The Song Without Words by Lelantus

Everyone knew what happened when soulmates touched each other. Whether it was hands clasping together, fingers brushing across a jaw, or lips meeting in a kiss - it didn’t matter. Any skin-to-skin contact and chests started glowing with soft, white-blue light. Soul-light, it was called.

Tony woke up in a cave in Afghanistan with a hole in his chest and wires coming out of it and felt his blood run cold. He knew instinctively what it meant. He’d lost his ability to produce a soul-light. And so no matter how much he yearned for it in the secret, hidden corners of his heart, Tony would never find his soulmate.

my thoughts: i’m such a sucker for soulmates and the way that they chose each other and loved each other despite Tony’s inability to have a soulmate is everything to me. 

[eisforeidolon]

Question: Has there ever been a moment on set or in a series that has made you so seriously contemplate quitting acting and like who was the person [audience laughs] - No! Like who was the person who helped you stay, who was your grounding stone that really made you want to keep in this career? Or has there just been a moment that's made you say I'm done with this and what helped you stay in the career?

Jared: Great question. I think I know what you're asking. Uh, there was certainly several moments - there were countless moments where it's like this is more than I got. And more often than not, it would happen on set, I was on set with Jensen or I worked with Jensen, so it's like hey, we got it, we've been through harder. You know, like, let's figure this out, just get through the day. And there was always that great feeling at the end of the day, we did something you didn't think - that prior to that day you didn't think you were capable of doing? There was certainly some uncomfortable scenes or sequences or - You know it generally didn't have to do with acting or the character, that I kind of - I - You know I'm not a writer and so I've accepted as an actor that I'm largely telling somebody else's story and hopefully able to weave in my own where it's possible and learn from their story when possible? So it hasn't really had anything to do with what my character did. It's usually when something - just like with everybody, when something is going on in your head or in your [finger quotes] real life? When you're at work, like I don't like anything right now. I don't wanna do - not that I don't wanna act, I just don't wanna be here, I don't wanna be anywhere. And I think a lot of that was Ackles, you know when I was experiencing that, with work, at work I think a lot of - yeah, the most I ever wanted to leave acting was frankly, when I had to leave Austin and fly to Vancouver. You know, Vancouver - as many of y'all know, many of y'all are from there - is one of the most beautiful cities on the planet. It's amazing, nice people, great food - yeah. [Jensen nods and pounds his fist over his heart] Loved our crew, loved our cast, but there's something about when you're gonna see, when you're saying bye to your kid 6 pm on a Sunday and they say when do you come back? And you say I'll be back in, uh, twelve days, but I'll FaceTime you - and they start crying. And then I'll have to leave for the airport and I'm running late? That sucks. That's rough. And I feel for parents, for anybody who has to leave on a regular basis. That was probably the most rough. But he and I could also talk about that, like, it sucks. Like, JJ has a teacher's appointment on this after this or Tom has a teacher's appointment or whatever, you know? We were missing a lot of key moments. And so it's just, it's difficult to have to leave, I guess.

Jensen: Any moment on The Boys. [Jared laughs] Has not only made me question my career choice, but also my life. Um, no, I think there was only one moment in my life that I can remember where I was contemplating walking away. And it was very early on. I had just turned 19, and I had just come off of a television show called Mr. Rhodes that was my first, like, real gig when I moved out to LA at 18. And I worked for a full season for NBC at Universal Studios and I was like, oh, this is amazing. And then that show got cancelled. And by that time, all my friends back home were all in college, and they were sharing all these incredible stories and I was also a kid, I was 19 and I was really, really homesick. And I wanted to go home. I was like, I don't know if I want to do this. And I had - I was up for a job, I'd had one audition and I had a callback coming and this was the moment where I was like I don't think I'm gonna do this, I don't wanna do - I wanna go home, I want to go to college and just go that path that I abandoned. And I was like, I'll tell you what, if I get this role, then I'm meant to stay. And it was Days of Our Lives. Yeah, and I signed a three year deal, so I couldn't go. But I was literally like, already starting to pack my stuff, and just had it riding, put it all on that one - and I didn't think I was gonna get it. It wasn't like, oh, I'm gonna get this so you know. Cause I literally thought I was not getting that role. I was the youngest guy that was up for the role, I was certainly the least developed muscularly? Like all those soap guys were just all jacked and ripped and I was like - I was just some skinny kid from Texas. And I thought there's no way they're gonna go with me, they're gonna go with some, you know, some big Adonis pretty boy guy. And they went with the skinny kid from Texas and that's why I'm still here.

[llamagoddessofficial]

biggest of brain energy re warm bread and beloved skeletons - so.... might i offer you .................. patisserie/baker au??

the boys are all rival(ish) bakers/pastry chefs on the same cute little side block of a quaint walkable downtown.

Sans has that extremely detailed, finicky pastry work down pat, on top of all the strange new versions that keep, somehow, making filo dough more difficult and yet structurally impressive. he's tried all those cool gastro-chef techniques, but just loves & excels at the fancy little pastries. absolutely the type to just close the shop when he's sold out of whatever he felt interested in making a lot of that day. surprisingly good-yet-bad social media presence. makes the jokiest videos and jankiest signs advertising when he's got a new batch of Something Tasty out, but the most beautiful shots of his pastries.

Red is one of those not-so-surprisingly charming excon-type (maybe never actually in prison, but y'know) bakers that looks intimidating but makes the best goddamn homey baked goods you ever had. pies, breads, big soft filled rolls, anything that feels ghibli as hell, frankly. has a not-so-secret love of making those really decorative lattice-style pie crusts; can absolutely make art you wouldn't want to eat if not for how damned good you know the pie is. always the most slammed during autumn, has spirited """debates""" with Sans (who is directly across the cobbled street) whenever they get deliveries at the same time, often about incredibly inane but opinionated baking nuances. accidentally best friends with all the local widows and grandmas. frequently propositioned by all genders.

Skull is a bit of the odd man out - he used to work at a little old cakeshop on the corner, but Something Happened one day and that corner store has frustratingly been turned into Insert Encroaching Soulless Chain Here. he now works at the back of the little pizzeria, making the best goddamn pizza dough anyone's ever had. seeing him flip and spin those pizzas is art in and of itself. rumor still had it that there was someone on staff at that cakeshop that could make the most dazzling wedding cakes you ever did see, but they also made the flavors involved so harmonious you could cry....

....... MC is a new arrival, perhaps opening up her own little shop - a little cafe maybe, specializing in warm drinks and a simple menu of baked goods like croissants and scones and cookies, some finger foods, and most importantly Cozy Vibes.

maybe she puts out an ad for a proper baker to help her out while she makes the teas and coffees and runs the front....

... and maybe some shenanigans ensue ✧∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

genius. absolutely genius. allow me to lose my fucking mind

Mc opens up her delightful little cafe. It's small, obviously, since she's technically the only employee- though she's great at coffee she struggles to make anything more complex than a cookie for cafe food. Her croissants melt and flatten, her pies collapse, her attempts at macarons just spread out into a sheet. So! She puts out an ad!

Sans: Ironically, his habit of only making what he's interested in and randomly closing shop without warning has made his desserts even more sought after. The incredible intricate and unique nature of his treats give them an element of scarcity, and people will come from all over to get to his next batch early. The sign out the front says 'open 10am to 5pm monday to wednesday. open some thursdays, depends how i feel. closed the second friday in the month, unless we were open thursday before. open saturday. closed sunday'.

He was a bit suspicious of her cafe, he'll admit it. He's suspicious of anything new on the street. Various chain brands have been infiltrating the previously majority monster-run area, and he hates the way his favourite place is slowly being subsumed by shitty corporate machine-made food. But it only took one visit (purely out of curiosity) for him to get love at first sight.

Since his store has such a reputation, he can afford to flunk whenever he likes to go sit in with her and chat for hours; he's a welcome presence. After noticing her difficulty with baking he starts giving her tips but quickly graduates to giving her some of his stock, instantly boosting her popularity. She thinks he's giving her leftover stock he doesn't need- she has no idea he's making stuff specifically for her.

Red: Red and Pap do have a tendency to treat their business like it's a mafia. The way they call it the 'family business' often makes people think it's a front for organised crime. And it was, once- the two of them only opened the store to cover up what was happening behind the scenes. But then they enjoyed running a bakery so much that they dropped the crime. He doesn't like the way Sans has turned baking into something snooty and highbrow; Red thinks food should be delicious and comforting, not a one-bite commodity people pay out of the nose for.

Red becomes a cafe regular, he goes during breaks and straight after work. He spends most of his time standing up at the counter flirting relentlessly, but he's so on the dot that she usually has his order ready for him. He offers to teach her to make a good pie- "payment? what're you talkin' about, doll? seein' yer pretty face is payment enough fer me." There would definitely be some scenes of him teaching her to bake... standing behind her with his hands over hers, showing her the technique to fold dough, though neither of them are really concentrating because he's grinning like an idiot and she can only feel how hot her face is.

(He'd probably ruin it with a 'wish you'd pound my dough like that'. A swift smack, and the magic of the moment is over)

Skull: He's the one that responds to her ad.

Though he didn't mind his job, per say, he misses being able to make his own stuff. Pizza tossing can only do so much to fill the baking-shaped hole in his heart. He wanted to apply anyway, it was just a stroke of luck that the cafe owner turned out to be the love of his life. Though he's a bit spooky and looks at her like he can't see anything else, she's quick to accept him, telling him he can make whatever he wants- and that's when he works his magic. All the stunning cakes lining the display case are his handiwork.

He's a man of few words, and he doesn't like being in public, so he's always in the back baking and cleaning. He wishes he had the confidence to talk to her more. She brings him coffee whenever she has time, as thanks for all his hard work... she leaves foam art, since it's one of the few things she can do. Though when she leaves a heart, the coffee usually ends up going cold. He tends to just stare at the heart until the foam is gone.

[adoristsposts]

justin herbert winning superbowl and proposes to y/n on the field

author's note; oh ABSOLUTELY anon u ate with this idea!!! singlehandedly bringing me out of my writing slump summary; the superbowl was supposed to be justin herberts biggest win of the day- but he can't help himself from making it just a little better. word count; 5k warnings; mention of underage drinking, nsfw joke Lol! unedited characters; Reader x Justin Herbert

There was no world in which you weren't shaking with nerves and anticipation. You had grown up watching the Super Bowl on television. You had honestly never really paid it much mind unless your local team had made it through, and even then it was usually your teenage excuse to have a few friends round and sneak a few drinks. In the past couple of years, however, football had become integrated into your life in the form of a 6'6, 236 lbs sweetheart. When you and Justin had begun dating, the idea of it lasting had been far from your mind. You complained incessantly to your girlfriends about his schedule. "He's always busy!" You had whinged to them, far from dramatic. He always had practice or a game or team bonding. Finding a time he could carve out for you was hard. But damn, did he try. And it worked. Three years later, you looked forward to the familiar thump of his football bag hitting the floor on a Sunday to alert you to his arrival. After a win, he'd come to find you with a grin on his face and wild eyes, usually peppering you with kisses. A loss, however, meant he immediately took a solemn shower and put all that gentle giant weight on you to lie in your arms and soak in your affection. This year had been filled with wins. After two losses at the start of the season, the team managed to turn the tide and keep a strong string of games going. The result was enough to put them head-to-head against the Kansas City Chiefs in this year's Super Bowl.

And the Nevada heat was not helping you stay calm. You half wanted to peel your Herbert jersey off and stand in a refrigerator until the game was over. You were nervous for all sorts of reasons. Firstly, you wanted Justin to win. Secondly, you wanted Justin to get through the game without getting injured. The injury to his ribs last year, he liked to joke, had scared you more than it had hurt him. You would be happy with any result as long as he left the field in one piece.

So far, it was a close game. 21-31 in the fourth quarter, with the Chiefs leading. You couldn't figure out how you felt. You were bursting at the seams with pride as is, but you were desperate for Justin to win what he had been working towards for so long. Justin had played an incredible game so far. You and his family kept repeating so to each other, like a mantra that he would continue doing so. You wanted nothing more than to see them win this game, even if watching was growing more difficult with each passing second. Mitch and Patrick, his two brothers, watched standing up. They either perched, staring and analyzing the game in a way only a football player could, or paced whatever stretch of ground they could, discussing their conclusions. "He's doing great," Holly said, not really aiming the words at anyone. Your hands were clasped in hers, and you gave her a squeeze. The sweet moment was interrupted by Patrick's yelp. Your gaze snapped back to the field, and Holly let go of your hands as both of you stood up. There was a wide opening, where Keenan Allen was waiting. Justin's snap made it to him, and Allen set into the most determined run you had ever seen. He dodged defense, with help from Chargers players doing their best to block them from his path. And then- "Touchdown by Keenan Allen! The Chargers are beginning to close the very small gap between them and the Chiefs!" The announcer called. You and the Herbert family erupted in glee (as you had with every previous point.)

With just under a minute now left in the last quarter, 28-30 was beginning to seem like it would be the final score. Both sides were not letting anything or anyone pass. You could practically feel the tension radiating from the players. No one had sat down since Keenan's touchdown. The electricity in the box was too much for anyone to stay stationary. Your hands were clasped, pressed to your lips as you watched your boyfriend set up. He got the ball, pulled back, and paused. "Go!" Mitch yelled like Justin could hear him. And then, like he could, Justin started running. They had set up close enough, he could make it- you could see he was going to make it. You had never heard louder yells than in the second Justin made it to the endzone. The clock after that ticked down painfully slowly. But second after second, the Chiefs were unable to score any points that would put them back in the lead.

Then the game ended, and the Los Angeles Chargers had officially won the 2024 Super Bowl. You were right behind the Herberts as the four of them rushed out of the box and down to the field, Patrick dragging you next to him with a handful of your shirt. "Slow down!" You laughed at him. "You're dating a Super Bowl winner, there's no slowing down now!" He exclaimed back at you. You felt the warm flush of giddiness and pride. Justin was a Super Bowl winner. Your boyfriend. Your lovely boyfriend. When you made it down, the field and sidelines were already flooded with family and friends. A sea of red and blue. You were sure the pure, unadulterated joy radiating off of you was salt in the wound for the Chiefs players, but the moment you locked eyes with your boyfriend you didn't care. In a surge of energy, you raced towards him, your large smile somehow growing even bigger. When you reached him, you didn't even care that he reeked or that his pads were wet with sweat. He picked you up on impact and twirled you around. "You won," you told him. When he put you down, he kissed you quickly but passionately. "I'm so proud of you, babe." You said. "I love you." "I love you too." He said, smiling down at you. That damned height. His family caught up, hugging him and crying and showering him with love and congratulations. Once their excitement had faded a little, Justin wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side. He pressed his lips into your hair and mumbled something. "What?" You asked, pulling away. "Marry me." He said clearly this time. You froze. His eyebrows lifted as he waited for your answer, a shit-eating grin uncurling on his face. You couldn't think of what to say except for "What?" "Marry me." He repeated. His words sounded so sure, and the way he was looking at you- You reached up a hand and grabbed the front of his pads to pull him down to kiss you. This time not short, but definitely just as passionate. "Yes," You told him against his lips, "Of course I will." "Woah! Slow it down on the PDA, Justin." His dad laughed. Justin pulled away from you. "Sorry, dad." He apologized, "Just excited." "Don't let the Super Bowl get to your head," Mitch joked, reaching up to slap his little brother lightly on the back of the head. "It's not just that," Justin began, "I just kind of.." he scratched the back of his neck, unsure how to explain it. He looked to you for help. "I think we just got engaged?" You said, not breaking your gaze away from his. Holly let out a yelp of excitement, but Patrick beat it by a mile. "I call best man!" He yelled without missing a beat. From near you, Sebastian's head turned. "What did I just hear about a best man?" He asked. Justin rolled his eyes and groaned like the question annoyed him. Underneath it all, he was bursting with the anticipation of telling everyone. He had been pondering when to ask for months. There was a ring in the drawer of his bedside table that had been waiting for him to finally propose. But of course, he had to choose the spontaneous moment that felt right. He wished you had a ring to show off to the boys, but instead, he just had to tell them, "We're engaged!" The team exploded with cheers and congratulations, all still riding the high of the win. Still under his arm, you looked up at your now-fiancee with a sly grin. "Go shower and get changed. You and I are in for a very fun night." You told him under your breath. His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised in a cheeky expression. "You're on," He retorted, beginning to walk away. "But don't forget baby, I'm a Super Bowl winner! It'll be a fun month." You ignored the curious glances his family and teammates gave you at his comment and tried to hide your bright red cheeks.

[brewed-pangolin]

Y'all, I'm not gonna lie. The comments, love, and reblogs I've received for my most recent Captain fic have me on the verge of tears. (No, I'm actually crying. Omg)

Captain MacTavish is incredibly difficult for me to write. I attribute that to the fact that he's been in my head for 15 years and to convey my interpretation of him from my mind to the screen involves a skill I've only begun to grasp.

Literally me gushing to my moots under the cut because I can't hug all of you

@greatstormcat @esteljune @soapsgf I swear, I want to kiss you all on the forehead for your kind words. And to unlock something, that's a compliment that requires a bear hug. Love you all. 💛

@crashandlivewrites your tags had me howling. I will never write either Soap without a running mouth. (Even if he does have a rubber cock in the ass) Legendary hug. Love you 💛

@efingcod yeah, no, this didn't just shatter me completely. Not at all. (falls to the floor) Comments like these from a mutual who I consider to be a friend mean more to me than you'll ever know. Thank you, E. Love you 💛

@valkyri from one long-time Captain MacTavish lover to another, this means the world. I wanted to convey a more erotic atmosphere between the two and tail back a bit on the overall smut. And if I interpret this correctly, I was successful. Thank you, darlin. Love you 💛

@crashtestbunny don't tempt me. I just might 😈💛

@astraluminaaa @devcica @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @glitterypirateduck I swear, I write just for you. Y'all never fail me, and I'd give you the moon if I could. 🌕💛

-

I understand that this is a very particular kink and that it is not shared with everyone, and I'm okay with that. To those who have reblogged, liked, and commented, from my very core, I give you my heart. I know I'm not like the more eloquent writers within this fandom, but this fic has been sitting in my head for years. All it took was International Women's Day and @glossysoap to will it into existence.

Thank you all for your love and support.

Happy Super Soap Sunday. And as always...

Stay Thirsty Soap Sqaud 🧼

[emma-walsh]

i can’t believe it’s been five months of being blissfully in love and wrapped up in you, beau niall walsh

the little, simple moments with you bring me the greatest joy. cuddling in bed on an early Sunday morning, your happy squeals anytime your dad does literally anything around you (you’re obsessed, but who can blame you? we have that in common) and each milestone you hit that serves as the most bittersweet reminder that you won’t be our baby forever

being a mum is the most beautiful, difficult yet incredible and fulfilling thing i’ve ever experienced. motherhood wasn’t something I always dreamt about or even thought I would get to experience, but like most things with your dad, it happened so naturally. the day we found out I was pregnant with you was the happiest yet scariest day of our lives. we had no idea what to expect but knew as long as we had each other that we would thrive through this new adventure as a family of three. the past few months have been the happiest of my life, there truly aren’t words to express my love for you

ps - please stop growing up so fast, i’m forever wishing i could pause time and stay in these moments forever 😭

[t3a-tan]

How would human Oliver react to finding a borrower James?

I'm happy with this one ^^

---

Oliver lived a fairly quiet life. He worked as a child psychologist throughout the week. On Thursdays he ordered a takeaway and would finish his leftovers on Friday, on Saturdays he went to the library to check out and return books, he tended to his garden every couple of days, and on Sundays he mowed some of his elderly neighbors' lawns.

Most mornings he had toast or cereal. Every other Sunday he had a full English. On Fridays he went out for a cream tea— scones with jam and clotted cream were his favorite after all. On Tuesdays he gave some jars of handmade jam around the neighbourhood, and sometimes a few extra treats if he made them.

He went to a local sandwich shop for lunch every day other than on weekends, where he always ordered the same egg salad sandwich. He always got cheese and onion crisps, always had a medium coffee, always sat in the same seat by the window.

He had a routine and he stuck to it.

To his coworkers he was known as a good worker; polite, well-received, compassionate. He wasn't friends with anyone though.

This didn't upset him in the slightest. He liked his quiet life, and whenever he got close to others they ultimately ended up discovering his past, rumours would spread, and then everyone would treat him differently again.

He had gotten used to the usual pitying looks when he was younger after he became an orphan— then the disturbed looks when he wasn't fazed by the loss at all. That passed. Now people presumed he had grieved already so it wasn't so difficult.

But then his cousins went missing.

Just a few months before he received his doctorate he got a call— an awful horrible and truly terrible call. It informed him that his uncle and aunt, his guardians, had been shot dead, and his two younger cousins had gone missing.

He graduated the year after instead.

But now he lived a quiet life. A quiet life, waiting, hoping to receive another call telling him his cousins were found alive. Rumours had initially spread saying he was responsible and even though he had been cleared by the police every time, people still talked about it.

So things were fine like this. Quiet. Sometimes a bit lonely, but nothing Oliver couldn't handle. He stuck to his routine and that was that.

Well… That was that until as he began pouring cereal into his bowl of milk, a tiny man fell out along with it. Oliver froze, staring down at the man in a mixture of shock, disbelief, and pure confusion. The man in turn, after right himself, stared straight back at him.

"...uhm… Hello there..?" Oliver wasn't sure why exactly there was a tiny man sitting in his bowl of shreddies soaked in milk, but he was sure that there was a tiny man there. As baffling as it was, it was better than a rat falling out.

Was this some form of mutated rodent? No. They looked entirely human all aside from their incredibly diminutive size. Oliver began cycling through every myth and fairytale he had read that might give him something else to go off of… though perhaps this was just a shrunken man..?

He received no response to his greeting— aside from a frightened look. That's fair, Oliver thought, I imagine it must be rather disorienting to fall out of a cereal box at half past six in the morning.

"Hmm…"

To remedy that fact, Oliver first considered picking the tiny man up with his fingers to get him out of the bowl…but on second thought, he wanted to avoid getting his fingers covered in milk. Instead he picked up his spoon, very carefully bringing it towards the man in order to scoop him out onto a dishcloth or something— though he stopped the moment he heard the tiny man cry out.

"Don't eat me..! Jesus—" The man exclaimed, splashing about in the bowl to get away from his spoon. Oliver shut his eyes for a moment as a few drops of milk splashed onto the lenses of his glasses. Opening his eyes again, Oliver's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Eat you? Why on Earth would I do such an awful thing..?" Oliver took off his glasses, wiping them off on his shirt and reminding himself to clean them properly later. Placing them back on his face, Oliver found himself looking down at the clearly shaken little man once more, taking note of the fear that was apparent in their expression and body language.

He waved the spoon slightly to bring the man's attention onto it again.

"I only intended to get you out of the bowl and onto a dry surface, as I'm sure it's not particularly comfortable steeping in milk and soggy cereal." He placed the spoon back down. "I suppose I should have asked permission beforehand though… My apologies. Do you require assistance?"

The tiny man went from looking horrified to seeming completely lost— Oliver wasn't sure why… he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary had he? He was working on not overcomplicating everything he said but it was hard when he was simply talking in the same way he thought.

"I-I…no?" It was spoken more as a question, but Oliver respected it nonetheless, putting his spoon down and moving away from the bowl. He opened his dishes cupboard, taking out a new bowl and pouring milk into it once again. He looked into the cereal box first this time before pouring shreddies into the bowl of milk just to make sure this wasn't a repeat incident.

He looked towards his previous bowl, seeing that the man had yet to move. Somewhat confused, Oliver walked back over, setting his new breakfast down onto the countertop just beside it before pulling up a stool, not yet sitting.

"Although you may do as you wish, I would prefer to clean that bowl and put it away sooner rather than later. Are you sure you don't need any help at all?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. That seemed to snap the tiny man out of his frozen state as they quickly scrambled into action and pulled themself out of the bowl, dripping milk all over the counter.

Satisfied, Oliver picked up the bowl, draining the milk into the sink before dumping the soggy shreddies into the bin. As much as he didn't like waste he didn't plan on eating a breakfast someone had been sitting in. He grabbed a paper towel before walking back over, offering it to the man.

They stumbled back away from his hand, but Oliver didn't falter— he even offered a reassuring smile.

"I'll clean the counter after so don't worry about making a mess. You may leave— though I suggest drying off first. Feel free, also, to wash off in the sink." He waited patiently, observing how hesitant the tiny man was to accept the towel. After thirty seconds had passed and the man had made no progress, Oliver tilted his head, pulling away slightly.

"Are you afraid of me..?" He asked, not offended in the slightest. Hardly even surprised either— considering the size difference it would just be instinctual to fear him, but he thought he was at least being calm and gentle enough to dissipate that slightly. The man met his eyes— his were brown. A nice deep shade of it, Oliver noted.

Although he sensed that they had a response hanging on the edge of their tongue, Oliver didn't get to hear it as they suddenly ran off. Although startled, Oliver didn't make any attempts to stop them, watching with some interest as they opened up a hidden entrance into the walls and quickly hid away inside.

Oliver stayed silent for a few moments after, processing the events that had just happened.

"..my name is Oliver, by the way."

[inkyleaf]

TG 212: Supernatural Shopping (M2F, RC, MC)

Against my better judgment, I went to the mall on an unassuming Friday. After losing my job a few weeks ago, I became paranoid about spending any money that wasn’t strictly necessary, and I’ve always had a difficult time in treating myself even before. But I really wanted the new Persona game. I walked around the mall for a long time, mulling over on whether I should buy it or not, and whether I even deserved it.

As I finished a small meal at the food court, I caught a glimpse of one of the most beautiful Asian women I’d ever seen on the other side of the mall walking out of a clothing store. Her long flowing skirt teased her slim legs that looked incredibly long thanks to her high heels, and her tight midriff was complemented by her glistening bare shoulders that popped in and out from behind her black hair. I was so focused on her that I managed to see her drop something that she was putting into her purse as she answered a phone call.

Wanting an excuse to see this woman up close, I briskly power-walked my way to the area, leaving my trash on the table. She also walked quickly and confidently in her heels; by the time I had gotten closer, she was already far away from the clothing store’s entrance. “E-Excuse me!” I yelled awkwardly. “You dropped something…!” I wasn’t sure if she couldn’t hear me or if she didn’t realize I was talking to her, but her shapely silhouette had already turned a corner. I picked up what she had dropped, a sleek and fancy black credit card with the name Yingyue Mu.

As I was walking in the direction the woman had gone to return her credit card, another thought occurred to me. What if I just…used the card? I was doing a lot of mental gymnastics to convince myself that it wouldn’t be straight up thievery. It’s wrong, but she looks pretty well-off. And it might not even work in the first place… And it’s not like I intentionally stole it or anything, it just happened to be here… I walked around the mall for a bit, lost in my thoughts. I was partially looking for the woman again so that I could return the card and be done with weighing my own morality, but I did not find her.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath with a small smirk after thinking some more. “I’ll just try it on one little thing and be done with it.” I waltzed my way into GameStop and nervously handed the cashier the card for my copy of Persona 3 Reload. All it would take for me to fold would be the cashier pointing out the blatant Chinese name on the card, as I already felt guilty enough and didn’t want to have to lie. But all I was met with was a “Thank you, have a great day” as he handed me my game. I left the mall with butterflies in my stomach, giddy about my new game and anxious about keeping a credit card that wasn’t mine.

Once I settled back into my apartment, I played Persona for most of the evening and felt absolutely amazing. Like, way more electric than even a new game should’ve made me feel. But after waking up the next morning, I came down from my high and settled into a nice cozy Saturday with doing chores and playing more games. Later that evening, I realized I was out of food and went to the grocery store for something easy and frozen, forgetting that I still had the black credit card until it was time to pay at the self-checkout. …It’s probably canceled by now for sure, I thought, convincing myself that there would be no harm in trying. My eyes widened as I saw my receipt being printed. Not only did it work, I almost felt bad about not getting more.

I went back and forth in my head again as I pushed my cart to the car. I could always go back in and just get more…but I shouldn’t even be using this in the first place… Shaking my head, I made myself drive home before I could be tempted further, ending the night with some YouTube and gaming as I usually did. As I slept that night, a lot of my body hair thinned with some of it disappearing altogether.

My Sunday was mostly uneventful. I spent a lot of time looking for jobs online, as it still made me anxious that I wouldn’t be going into work on Monday morning like I had been weeks ago. Despite my best efforts in being productive and distracting myself, I found the credit card lingering in the back of my mind. How long can I get away with using it? Should I try again today? Thankfully, my lazy desire to stay inside today won out, and I figured that there’d be no shot of it working again after this many days had passed.

Without much to do on Monday, I found myself at the mall again, determined to put this morale issue to rest. I picked up a cheap, vaguely interesting game off the shelf at GameStop and handed over the card, expecting it surely be denied this time. I felt a pit in my stomach when it worked yet again. What the hell is going on…? After another mental back-and-forth, I told myself that it’s her for fault for not canceling this thing for so long, why should I feel bad? This kind of thing isn’t going to happen again, let’s stop being so weird about it and just go in! I picked out a basket and starting putting anything that mildly caught my interest. Games I’d play later, some merch, some gift cards, some accessories I’d probably never use…

The cashier was visibly confused seeing me walk up with all of these items after initially paying for one cheap game. “That’ll be, uh… $1,289.45,” he said meekly. “Fine by me,” I replied with an awkward smile. I felt an electric jolt shoot up my arm as he handed the card back to me. I became dizzy, and the world spun around for a brief moment. Something inside of my body felt off, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “Thanks…” I said with a blank stare as I regained my balance and focus. I cleared my throat and sat on a bench to sift through what I had just bought.

“Oh my God, I actually bought over a thousand dollars’ worth of stuff…!” I mumbled under my breath. I caught my hands shaking as I rummaged through the bags, unsure if it was from excitement, anxiousness, or something else. Although it was happening too slowly to notice in the moment, my arms and hands were shrinking and were developing a subtle roundness in certain areas. After relaxing for a few minutes, that euphoric feeling from the first day began to well up inside me, and it was much greater than before. I felt like I could do anything! Leaving all of my items on the bench for a moment, I spotted a cute girl and asked her on a date. I was swiftly rejected, but I didn’t care! I felt so good!

Although I wasn’t actively noticing, I think I had been lightly shaking all the way back to the car and back home. After unloading my bounty, I tried to chill with some games but was too hyper to focus. I spontaneously said fuck it and went for a short jog around the block hoping to use up some of this energy. It helped mentally cool me down, but I still felt like I never had before. I played Persona for the rest of the day but hardly cared about what was happening in the game.

Waking up and washing my face the next day, I was almost relieved to feel like myself again. Even though yesterday had been amazing, it was just so weird. I thought today would have been normal until I noticed my hands in the restroom. They had become much smaller, and my fingers much slimmer. My arms had also shrunk, and while I never had a much bicep strength to boast, my upper arms felt fluffier and were noticeably missing masculine tone. “What the…” I pondered about it for a while until a phone call snapped me out my own head. Some acquaintances I had made from my last job wanted to invite me to lunch to see how I was doing after being let go. I gladly accepted; it made me a little emotional.

I wore a long-sleeved shirt for our meetup so that only my small hands were visible. They’re different, but not different enough for someone else to notice, right? The group of three guys and a girl took me to our favorite burger joint, a place we used to indulge in once a week together. I entered the building excited to talk to these guys again, but once our food was delivered, an odd sensation came over me. They were grabbing their burgers with both hands and just chowing down…which wasn’t weird, I always did that, too. What was weird is that I felt a sense of repulsion watching them eat, like I didn’t belong here. Or rather, that they were somehow…disgusting.

I awkwardly grabbed my burger with one hand and shoved a big bite into my face to stop myself from overthinking. Not only did it taste bad, I felt my skin crawl from how nauseous the action made me feel. My hand and face were covered in grease and sauce. What the hell is this?? Feeling a few of their eyes dart my way, I continued to nibble at the burger as best I could without being weird about it. By the time everyone had finished, I barely halfway done. “Not hungry today?” one of the guys chuckled. I laughed awkwardly and thought of something on the spot: “Yeah guess not, I should’ve had my dentist appointment after this cuz it messed up my taste.” We chatted and laughed for a while longer. I really wanted to use my credit card again to pay for the meal, but knowing that the waitress would take it out my sight made me uneasy, so I only chipped in with some loose cash and took the half burger home with me to finish later.

At least, that’s what everyone assumed I’d do. I threw that abomination into the trash as soon as I got home and vigorously washed my hands and face. I never wanted to see another burger again in my life. Later that evening, looking at the frozen meals in my fridge brought similar feelings. Using the black card, I ordered a simple but hefty sushi and noodle meal. When I felt an odd fit of my pants the next morning, I assumed I had eaten too much in the day prior. What I didn’t realize was that my lower body proportions had begun to change as I slept and continued to change throughout the rest of the Wednesday. It was another indoors day for me, and I used the credit card to order more ample delivery meals. Besides my arms, I didn’t notice anything being explicitly wrong with my body until I undressed and took a shower that evening.

The fabric of my clothing coming off felt odd, and the warm water hitting my skin made me flinch and realize that I had become almost completely hairless from the neck down. Contrary to how it felt hours ago, my stomach was much flatter, and my pelvis had grown wider. M-My body, what’s going on with me…?! I held my hands against my hips in confusion. I didn’t look like a girl, but I probably could’ve been mistaken for one from far away. Washing myself was difficult and uncomfortable, as I was so much smoother and felt the soap and my fingers against my skin in ways I never had before. My mind was racing – should I call my doctor? Should I…can I do anything about this? I thought about the past few days in critical detail.

The weirdness began after I spent that thousand-plus at GameStop…I felt that jolt, I thought, incorrectly identifying the beginning of all this. Then, I thought about the two things that I was interacting with at the time – the GameStop employee and the black credit card. At first, I wanted to assume that the employee had done something to me, but it felt ludicrous. I didn’t think the card itself could hold any power, so I wondered if I was being punished by some almighty being for my greed in that moment. I wasn’t religious, but I prayed that night hoping for forgiveness.

The next morning, all I was met with were my thighs being rounded out with supple feminine fat, making it irritating to walk without rubbing my balls the wrong way. Staring at my reflection and at my arms and hands in the mirror, part of me wanted to cry. I was scared that things were snowballing out of my control and I didn’t know what to do about it, or what was really even happening. I wanted that dopamine rush I got whenever I used the credit card, but I was afraid that using it might be related to the cause.

Taking drastic measures, I locked the card away into a small safe that was buried deep in my closet, then went outside for a breath of fresh air wearing clothes I’d kept from middle school, as my usual clothing had an uncomfortable fit by now. I couldn’t stop myself from wearing shorter clothing, as my skin felt like it needed the air, too. It felt calming, but I noticed a few lingering glances from passing strangers. It’s becoming noticeable… I dreaded, trying my best to remain calm. If I stop using the card, it’ll go away. I’ll be fine.

The buzzing thoughts in my head were initially based on my anxieties, but as I grew more comfortable and relaxed, my thoughts became more mean-spirited before I even noticed. Such a slob, wearing a run-down rag with a stain on it. Ew, she chewed off her fingernails like an animal. I can’t believe they even make dresses in her size… I was judging peoples’ appearances without even thinking about it. The feeling of disgust was similar to what I felt at the burger joint, why were these white people just so filthy to me?

I’m a slob, too. I’m white, I would joke to myself in my head, trying to combat my weird thoughts. I tried to keep things down low from here. I didn’t use the black credit card once for the rest of the day and for the following Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Subsequently, I didn’t notice many changes to my body beyond what had already happened. But fuck it was hard…I was soooo bored! I could barely get myself to continue job-hunting, and my video games were no longer engaging me like they had mere days ago. Even the stuff I got from spending over a grand at GameStop failed to evoke happiness. I didn’t know what withdrawal felt like, but I was going through it. I needed to buy something big and expensive, it didn’t matter what…I needed to use the card again.

Come next Monday, I was itching for dopamine to the point where I was trying to convince myself that I was in a financial emergency despite still having a decent amount of savings. Don’t have a new job yet, money’s getting lower, and I need groceries today, soooo… But no, I can’t use the card anymore. Besides, it’s surely canceled by NOW, right? Then, I saw a text from an online friend, linking me to a new and expensive high-quality Persona statue that just went up for pre-order. The website did a great job at highlighting its qualities and features – even though something in my head was preventing me from enjoying the game lately, this was something I’d have loved to have on display in my room. Fuck, but I can’t…!

To stop myself from ruminating too much, I ran outside to jog around the block again, but it didn’t help. I wanted that statue, I wanted to use the card, I still had to get groceries anyway…and maybe I could even pick up some new clothing while I’m at it, as even my smaller clothing was beginning to get uncomfortable. Somehow, I managed to resist the urge all day. My body was tense, as if I had to keep it in check at every moment.

Throughout the next three days, I found myself feeling a bit more relaxed. I was able to focus on my job search and actually enjoyed some gaming again. My temptations to use the card were lessening, and everything felt like it was going back to normal, except for my misshapen body. That all came crashing down on Friday when I accidentally tripped over my own feet and spilled a full cup of soda directly onto my PC. “NO…!!!” I screamed as the monitor went blank, hearing a few electric pops from within. I had just received this PC as a birthday gift less than six months ago and it was a godsend compared to my older hunk of junk, I needed this thing, and I knew that getting another one would be a huge hit to my savings.

I spent hours trying to dry it from the inside and was researching ways to troubleshoot on my phone, but it was fruitless. I was periodically yelling to let out my anger, but all I really felt was despair at the loss of the single most important item in my apartment. Can I really not afford it? I thought to myself. I have so much junk I could sell, especially from GameStop, but that would take so long…might not even be worth it…

After thinking for a long while, I took a deep breath and opened my safe with a clear head. This is an emergency, this is a real emergency, I thought. After today, no more black card. Last time. Feeling an odd blend of eagerness and defeat, I pulled the card out and went to Amazon from my phone. The PC was nearly $3,000, and I added a few more hundred onto that with one-day shipping. When the order went through, I was still astonished at how the card was working, but then I remembered that they would only charge me when the unit was shipped.

Still, I felt a sense of relief, as if I had some kind of confidence that the card would continue to work. “I did say today was the last day…day’s still not over yet,” I mumbled, beginning to change clothes for an outing. Having put off my groceries and other chores all week, I figured that I could wrap them up all at once while treating myself a little. With the panic and heartache I’d endured the last few hours, I figured I deserved it. Briefly glancing at myself in the mirror, it looked like my hair had grown a little longer, but I didn’t give it much thought.

Strolling through the mall as my first stop, I didn’t know what clothing to pick out. I didn’t want any of the women’s clothing even though deep down I figured they would probably fit my body the best, so I simply held up a few unisex pieces to my body and eyeballed them, figuring they’d work. Then, I got a late sushi lunch at the food court. The quality wasn’t amazing, but it felt like such a breath of fresh air after all of the cereal, fast food, and frozen meals I’d been forcing down my throat all week. That indescribably exciting feeling I got whenever I used the card was welling inside of me again after buying the meal and my clothing. The card is definitely doing something to me, I thought as I realized it, but is this really a punishment? For being greedy? Is buying necessities greedy? It just feels…so good…

Wanting to try a little experiment, I convinced myself to buy a $100 necklace to see how it would feel. As soon as the transaction had completed, I was practically tingling. I felt so good that I had almost forgotten all about destroying my PC earlier today. Today’s the last day, let’s enjoy it…right…?! As I moved from store to store, buying expensive thing after expensive thing, my jaw began to round, and my skin felt like it was boiling into a hot sizzle as my pale skin tone took on a yellower hue. I noticed that my hair began to brush against my shoulders and that my voice rose higher as my Adam’s apple fell back and higher into my neck, but I simply felt too good to care by that point!

I had a brief moment of contemplation when I went out to my car, needing to load my bags because I couldn’t carry anymore. I tugged at my hair with dainty hands and looked at my reflection through the car window. Through my now-slanted eyes with deep brown irises, softened chin, and heightened cheekbones, I could just barely recognize myself. This is bad, was a brief thought that went through my head. But I didn’t feel bad at all, I was ready to go back in for round two…! While I was walking back into the mall, I even pre-ordered that Persona statue from my phone. I can always talk to a doctor later. I can buy out the whole damn mall today!

My shopping spree couldn’t be stopped. Trinkets, toiletries, tools, clothing, it didn’t matter! It was all mine for the taking! I noticed that cashiers had begun calling me ‘ma’am.’ “Ma’am,” I said out loud to myself, scrunching my face. Such a disgusting abbreviation. Fitting for people behind registers, I suppose. By the time I found myself back at the clothing sections, my smooth skin had lost all traces of its Caucasian heritage, and my face had further morphed beyond all recognizability, as I was now sporting thinner eyebrows, fuller lips, a flattened nose, and even whiter, brighter teeth.

Instead of just buying new clothing like I had from the first batch, I went into the changing room with a bag this time. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror in awe. I was beautiful, but still horribly incomplete and covered with ill-fitting clothes. Unbeknownst to me, it was at that moment where my new PC had shipped, deducting over $3,000 from the card’s balance. I didn’t know why it was happening, but my dick turned rock hard mere moments later. I dropped my pants and boxers to my ankles, hypnotized by the feeling on top of my incredible credit card high. My scrotum was painfully constricting around my balls, and the skin around my pecs began to wobble as I mindlessly stroked myself.

I knew I could orgasm quickly, but I wanted it to last. Bouncing my slim Asian legs in place while licking my lips, admiring the face of the woman who stared back in the mirror, nothing in the world could have brought me back down to Earth. “Ooh…ooh…ooaah…” I moaned quietly through gritted teeth, embracing the pain that came with my testes being pushed upward into my body. I fondled my chest with my other hand as it swelled into two distinct mounds, feeling stiff and enlarging nipples through my shirt. I leaned towards the mirror. I need her, I need her, I need her so fucking bad…

Just when I was on the brink of climax, I heard a sudden schrriiiiiip from the floor. The tops of my sneakers had been ripped down the center up to my toes and melted down to the sides, revealing the tops of my feet. “A-Ah!” I yelped, practically losing my balance while barely maintaining my sexual high as thin plastic rods began to grow underneath the material around my heels, pushing them into the air. I had to release my cock to catch myself against the wall with both hands as a thin strap materialized around my ankles, too focused on myself and my reflection to even notice that my shoes had transformed into a pair of black high heels.

“FFFFF…fuck…!” I bit my lip as I continued to stroke on wobbly legs. In that mere moment, my cock had grown much smaller, became much harder, and felt infinitely more sensitive…! Another startling riiiiiipp sounded from my back as my shirt tore itself down the middle, ending at the small of my back while revealing my shoulder blades and upper back. My sleeves rolled themselves up into little straps while the front of my shirt cut low as it completely changed material while revealing and supporting my developing breasts.

“Ohmigawd, ohmigawd,” I whispered as quietly as I could with my eyes rolling into the back of my head. My silent stroking was quick to become more audible schlicking, and my dick had practically disappeared into a nub. Warmth slowly enveloped my whole body, as if I had been gently lowered into a sauna. Nearly gasping for air through harsh breaths, I slowly and awkwardly lowered myself to my knees as I finished, unable to notice the bottom of my shirt elongating itself into a stylish dark satin dress that would flow and playfully tease my sexy legs.

I kept my eyes closed for a long while as I took it all in, eventually placing my hands to the wall and mirror while still on my knees. I lightly coughed and cleared my throat as my eyelids fluttered open, still in awe from my reflection. I tapped and curled my fingers for a bit against the wall, thinking about how thin and petite they were while analyzing how they moved. After a bit of thinking, I began giggling to myself with a foreign voice, loving the sight of my lips curling and my eyes squinting in laugher. I had a hard time containing myself, probably because the situation seemed impossible. I knew that none of this made any sense, so why did this all feel so right?

I stood up slowly, legs still shaking in my heels, and patted myself down through my dress. Smooth, strong, sexy, alluring, were some words that popped into my head, especially once I stepped out of my fallen pants and boxers and looked at my body at different angles. When I shimmied my boxers up my smooth legs, the waistband suddenly popped out of the fabric as the fabric itself began to disintegrate and change, leaving behind a cute pair of silk panties that hugged my body. “I’m a…I’m a woman…a goddess,” I huffed, watching the material change before my eyes. I smiled at my reflection again, thinking about how obvious all of the earlier signs were in hindsight several days ago. If being a woman meant feeling this good, I was fully prepared to lean into it.

After cooling off and making sure I looked good, I took another look at the clothing in my bags and scoffed. These clothes were beneath me now. I left the whole bag in the room and continued my shopping spree, focusing on more feminine clothing and jewelry while learning how to strut in my heels. I don’t know anything about any of this…but what’s stopping me from learning? It’s all mine…! Anything I want, it’s mine…! Wanting to make myself even more beautiful, I put several bags of makeup, skincare, and haircare products into my bags, figuring that I’d get enough volume to trial and error with it without worrying about running out. Every time I was handed my credit card back from a cashier, I sanitized it in front of their grubby faces, hoping that they were bright enough to appreciate the luxury of being in my presence.

Once I had finally worn myself out of shopping, I treated myself to a five-star restaurant for a caviar and lobster dinner and figured that I’d leave grocery shopping to delivery services. It was my first time trying both, but I had the feeling I would love them. Having been relieved of most of my usual anxiety and self-doubt, I slept like an angel that night, knowing full well I deserved all of the wonderful things I’d done for myself.

Feeling my breasts and soft thighs the next morning, I was relieved that I hadn’t been living a dream. The overwhelming euphoria I got from using the card had died down, but I still felt like the queen of the world. “I really am…all woman. Every last inch,” I cooed to myself as I showered in the morning, wanting to abolish my usual habit of evening showering. After practicing a few positive affirmations in the mirror, I found myself feeling more than just willing to accept femininity. I was so excited! I practically spent all day learning how to use makeup and other products, and dressing up in the endless amount of clothing I had bought yesterday. I simply could not get enough of myself! I had become perfect!

Such brilliance and radiance obviously couldn’t go unnoticed. Everywhere I went, people treated me with respect and admiration. The quieter ones, I could just feel their eyes on me from far away. They either wanted to be me or lusted for a second of my attention. The men especially knew their place, always holding doors open for me and offering to buy me meals. And the ones who tried to get a little too close were met with swift embarrassment. After all, no one batted an eye if a gorgeous woman like me were to slap someone a little too hard. The amount of confidence and power I had was dizzying.

Of course, despite all of that, I still had a lot on my plate to figure out. I could buy anything I wanted, but my credit card wouldn’t be useable to pay the rent. My ID and undergrad degree had also become utterly useless, as I had essentially become a new – and better – human being. Looking at the name on my card, I figured that I could get a new ID and other documents forged in the name of Yingyue Mu. With my infinite wealth being limited to what I could use a credit card on, contractors and other shady workers became my best friends. As I worked on getting new documents, I hired professional photographers, editors, writers, and social media marketers to promote a fake story of how a dusty little girl from China made it all the way to being a superstar model in America, learning so many ins and outs of being a woman along the way.

Even though I was better than everyone else, I still had a lot to learn about business, social interactions, and presentation – three concepts I began to religiously study and practice day in and day out. At first, my fake social media story drew in and inspired some people, but it couldn’t stop there; I wanted more clicks, likes, and money. It wasn’t too hard to become a self-proclaimed amateur model with my natural beauty and talent and with all of the clothing, makeup, and accessories I had access to, but that wasn’t nearly enough. I had to reach out and gift my lovely self to sponsors.

After one short month had passed, I had already forgotten what it was like being a man. I knew I had always been one, but the thought of being one ever again was just unfathomable. Like, how could anyone be ready to leave the house within ten minutes of waking up? How could anyone wear any piece of clothing two days in a row? How could anyone literally say exactly what’s on their mind at any given point? The concept of masculinity just didn’t make sense to me anymore. I was okay with that, though. The mystery was kind of attractive in a fictional sense, since no man I interacted with on a day-to-day basis was anywhere close to deserving of me.

I continued to learn, grow, and make connections throughout the year while traveling the world, using my shining body and vibrant personality to model for countless amounts of brands and sponsors. That black credit card never stopped working, as it paid for all of my traveling, lodging, luxury meals…almost everything! Which meant that my savings were able to skyrocket, especially as I began making more and more money. Paying the rent for my apartment soon felt like providing charity to the poor.

By the end of my first year living as a woman, I had practically become a social media celebrity and had visited over ten different countries. I felt like I was committing a sin every time I returned home in America, as if I were living in a pigsty. Once I saved enough money, I could move overseas, buy a mansion in Europe, maybe? Although it may be preferrable to be around those who shared my pristine Chinese heritage… I daydreamed about my future a lot, even when I was at one of my modeling agency’s evening social gatherings where I was debuting a sleek zebra-print dress. After becoming exhausted from socializing and pretending to like these people, I took a high seat on an empty staircase and looked down at the little party, thinking about how blissful it must be to be an insect, ignorant to the fact that they could never even begin to fathom being as perfect as moi.

A Patron reward for Silv, thank you so much!! <3 This story features a man down on his luck finding a mysterious credit card that seems to change and invigorate him the more he uses it...

Also, stay tuned for a HOT summer beginning tomorrow... Be sure to tune back in cuz you won't want to miss July. ;)

(also I give up on trying to indent paragraphs on tumblr it's so annoying LOL)

RC = Race Change

MC = Mental Change

Patreon | DeviantArt | Blogger

[andy-wm]

Jimin and Yoongi performed TM at The Final in Seoul...

AND OMG!!! I WAS THERE!

I took a chance on Jimin performing Tony Montana with Yoongi during the encore concerts and wrangled myself a Saturday ticket.

The stars aligned for me and like magic, there he was. Park Jimin, in real life. He performed not only Tony Montana but also, incredibly, Like Crazy. It was a dream come true!

Dont get me wrong, it wasn't ALL about Jimin. Yoongi is my bias, after all.*

But the reason i went, was in the hopes of seeing them together on stage for T.M.

It's really only hitting me now, 10 hours later as I queue to check-in for my flight home*°, how lucky I was. I'm trying not to cry in public. Yes, it was that good.

I cannot overstate the gloriousness of Jimin's live performance, especially for a solo choreo like this one.

He swirls and darts and glides through the movements like a murmuration.

He is a swan on water. He is an illicit drug. He is ambrosia. He is seduction.

He's the aurora borealis in human form.

The funny thing is, when he wasn’t transfixing us with his grace and his voice (and his hips), he was such a cute, awkward, lovable bean. And before he performed Like Crazy, he seemed SO NERVOUS. It was oozing from his pores.

There are moments in your life you will never forget, and Tony Montana in Seoul, at Yoongi's 2nd last show of his first solo tour, was one of them.

It was wild and exhausting, but totally worth it. 36 hours flying time and 36 hours in Seoul, arriving late friday night and leaving at the crack of dawn on Sunday to go directly to work on Monday morning when my flight landed.

(I readily admit I did a TERRIBLE job of videoing these performances. I have a special talent for taking absolutely rubbish footage. Even when I have a prime position and a very good camera my videos look like they were shot through a telescope on a rough sea. And often they're out of focus because I'm actually not looking at the phone once I hit the record button 😁)

☆~●~♡~●~☆

*Yes, absolutely Yoongi is my bias. Since day one, the very first time i saw any of them, it was Yoongi who grabbed my attention. I've always liked the moody, difficult boys LOL.

Jimin, however, has a place in my heart that will never be reclaimed or relinquished. Jungkookie is there by virtue of Jimin, because they come as a set.

☆~●~♡~●~☆

*° I wrote this in the early morning on Sunday 5 August and forgot to post it. Better late than never, I guess.