#as long as you don't best the Yankees

[dinosaurwithablog]

After the Yankees lost, I turned on the LA Dodgers game just in time to see Teoscar Hernandez get Shohei Otani home to make the game 1-0!! Great job, guys!! I love these two ball players. They are sooooooo great!! Let's go Dodgers!!!!! But I have to say, let's go Yankees or they won't let me back into New York when I want to visit 😁🤣😍

[homestylehughes]

18.

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proposing to his girlfriend, the girl he knew he would marry since he was 18.

warning(s): absolutely none. pure fluff, and cuteness :)

word count: 1.4k

authors note: hi loves!! my inner directioner came out when writing this fic! this fic is loosely based off of 18 by one direction (I listened to FOUR, the album, the whole time while writing this. 11/10 would recommend). this was so much fun to write, it kinda gives me romcom, or romantic movies vibes? I love writing jack all soft and cute. I hope you guys enjoy, like and reblog if you do! I hope you are all happy and healthy. much love as always <3

“I have loved you since we were 18, long before we thought the same things.”

Ever since Jack laid eyes on yn at 18 he knew she'd be the person he'd spend the rest of his life with. Jack can remember the day he met her, like it was yesterday. He had just got drafted by the New Jersey Devils as the number one pick, which threw him into a new life of superstardom. 

In the midst of being the 1st overall draft pick, the Yankees invited him to a game, having one of the best seats in the stadium, he couldn't help but smile over the fact that this was now his life. As the fifth inning came to an end, Jack decided to make his way to the bathroom. As he walks through the busy crowd, weaving in and out of groups of people. Finally making it to the bathroom, doing his business before quickly heading out. 

As he walks out of the bathroom, his phone dings from a text, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see that it's from his mom. Just as he begins to type out a response, he feels himself bump into someone. bringing his head up to see the prettiest girl he's ever seen in all 18 years of his existence, with a hot dog smashed into her chest. He's so close to her that he can see the red and yellow stains from the ketchup and mustard littered across her white as snow Yankees jersey. 

“Oh my gosh” the girl says, her head hanging low as she looks at the hot dog stained jersey.

“Shit. I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.” jack embarrassingly  rambles out 

“It's..okay. It's nothing, it's just a jersey and hot dog. No biggie” she says, now looking at jack. 

“No it's a big deal, it's my fault. Here let me help you clean up.” Jack offers, as waves of guilt run through his veins.

“Are you sure? You don't have to, don't want to waste any more of your time.” the girl says

“If anyones wasting your time it's me, come over here” Jack says, taking the hot dog from her, throwing it in the trash, before turning around to look at her jersey. 

“It's pretty bad isn't it?” she asks him

“It is.. How about this, how about I buy you a new one?” 

“I can't accept that, it was an accident. Plus i dont your name.” the girl says, holding her ground as she looks directly in his eyes. 

Jack can't help but get lost in her eyes as they look at each other. 

“Yes you will, and my names jack.” flashing her smile before grabbing her hand

“Now come with me, we're going to go get you a new jersey and a hot dog, and anything else your heart desires, got it?” Jack says, briefly looking at the girl, who sends him a nod in approval. Turning back around, as he continues walking them through the crowd.

“Yn!” she says loudly behind him 

“What?” Jack asks, turning back around, confused by what she said to him.

“Yn, my name is Yn. Only fair if you know mine now” yn says with a small smile

“Well yn, what size jersey are you?” Jack asks, looking at yn, who has a slight smile on her face as she looks over all of the different jerseys.

“Umm..medium? Can I get the white one?” she asks 

“Of course” Jack sends her a smile as he talks to the worker, quickly getting the jersey for the girl. 

Sending the guy behind the counter a thank you, picking up the bad before handing it to yn.

“Jack..thank you so much” 

“You're very welcome, now on to a hotdog” he says with a smile

“Okat only on one condition.” she says

“And that is?”

“You let me buy them. I can't let you buy me anything else today.” yn says, looking at him sternly.

“Yes ma’am” 

“And so help me god if you get mayo on your hot dog, i will break down in tears.” 

“Mayo? On a hot dog?” he questions 

“Yes. it's sick and people actually do it.” she laughs 

“ well no, mayo on my hotdog for me” he smiles to her

“Good. That's what I like to hear,” she says, lifting her head up, sending him a smile before getting in line. 

Jack looks at her for a second, and in that moment he knew, hed just found the person he'd spend the rest of his life with. 

– 

“Quinn. I'm freaking out." Jack says as he paces on the dock.

“Jack calm down, she's going to say yes. Take a deep breath "Quinn says as soothing as he can, in an attempt to calm his brother's nerves.

“You don't know that” jack snaps at him 

“Yes I do, you guys have been inseparable for the last 5 years. You two are the same person, and can share the same brain cell. She will say yes.'' Quinn says. walking over to Jack, bringing him into a hug, hoping to help calm down.

Jack pulls back after a few moments, murmuring a soft thank you, before taking a deep breath, straightening his back before turning around to look out at the lake. The calm water seems to calm his nerves for a few moments. 

“She's on her way” quinn says, laying a hand on jacks shoulder giving it a squeeze before turning around heading off the dock, leaving jack alone with his thoughts. 

A few moments later he can hear the sound of the footsteps on the dock behind him, turning slightly to see her walking towards him in the prettiest white dress, the bottom of it flowing in the wind as she walks. 

“Hi, pretty girl” jack says while grabbing her hand pulling her to stand in front of him

“Hi” she says breathlessly like she'd been holding her breath the whole way here.

“I don't really know where to start but I'll start by doing this,” Jack says before slowly dropping down to one knee. Yns hands quickly move to cover her mouth, as she looks down at Jack with tears welling her eyes.

“Yn. you've been my rock, my best friend, my biggest supporter, and most importantly the love of my life for the last 5 years.” 

Yn lets out a choked sob that causes Jack to pause for a moment, to regain his breaths he can feel his eyes beginning to water, as he continues.

“I knew you would be the person I'd spend the rest of my life with the moment I crashed into you, spreading mustard and ketchup all over you. Even at that moment I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. Thank you for always making me feel seen and loved, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you. I love you, and I promise I'll love you forever, until my heart gives out. So would you do the greatest honor of being my wife?” 

“Yes. yes. A million times yes, jack.” she says as she struggles to hold back her tears as she launches herself onto jack. The both of them wrapped in each other's embrace, tears of joy falling from both of their eyes. 

Jack pulls back enough to slide the perfectly cut, sized ring onto her hand. the ring going on perfectly, as if it was the last piece of the puzzle, laying perfectly on her hand. 

“Jack it's beautiful” yn beams at him, tears still falling, hitting her cheeks like raindrops on a window. 

“Not as beautiful as you” Jack says, bringing his fingers under her cheeks wiping them away. 

“I love you” she says 

“I've loved you since we were 18, '' Jack says softly before pulling her into a kiss. 

“I wanna love like you made me feel, When we were eighteen”

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

An Appetite for More

13/12: Presents and Praise Kink - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.6k~ | Warnings: oral (f receiving), heavy petting, praise kink

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

A/N: it's all about the sopping wet subby men in mid December apparently

She glances over at Billy in the passenger seat of her battered VW Polo. He looks fucking miserable, eyes heavy with fatigue, his head rested in the palm of his hand with his elbow propped against the window. 

The family gathering/present swap/intervention or whatever the fuck it was, didn't end the best.

It was the first Christmas since Billy's incident in the Summer, the one that nearly cost him his life. She still remembers the way her heart leapt into her throat when she found out what may or may not happen to him. 

When she thought she might lose him.

It was a feeling she wouldn't wish on anybody.

She even remembers the way she squeezed the life out of him in the police station. He smelled of sweat and fear, and she felt his desperation in the way he clung to her, as if he couldn't imagine ever entertaining the thought of letting her go.

And of course, the family gathering started fine, but ended with some choice words about what had happened. It got so heated that Lana nearly leapt over the table at a distant uncle, her accent so thick with anger that even she could barely understand her. In other circumstances she might have laughed. But one glance at Billy beside her, his knee bouncing erratically, jaw tense, half a sunday dinner still sat lukewarm in front of him, all she could do was hold his hand under the table.

When it had gone on too long though, even she couldn't hold back. If she had seen Billy's face, there was the slight glimmer of love and pride, that someone he loved would stand up for him.

He was doing so well, she thought, he didn't need this. Especially so close to Christmas. She almost thought about ditching her plan altogether, but thought that there was a slither of a chance he might enjoy it still.

She pats his knee lovingly as she drives, her eyes still on the road, but her gesture is enough to show that she was thinking of him.

Billy sighs, and slides his hand over hers, “sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” she says easily, “it was shitty of them to bring it up.”

He glances over, the street lights passing by illuminating his blue, sad eyes. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Always,” she smiles, squeezing his hand. "I should give your sister a medal as well, didn't know she could move so fast."

It was sad, exhausted even, the smile he gave back. But it was something. And it made her heart flutter all the same.

She sighed in relief as the central heating of Billy's flat hit her skin, pulling her coat off her shoulders and toeing her shoes off at the front door as Billy made his way to the kitchen. The flat smelled faintly of those knockoff Yankee Candles that Billy always bought from B&M. 'Fresh Cotton', my arse, she thinks as the acrid scent hits her nose.

“Brew?” He asks, filling up the kettle with anticipation that she'd say yes anyway.

A grin rose to her lips, leaning against the doorway, “um, you still have one present left?”

He half turns, his face set in confusion, “do I?”

She nodded, her grin widening as she folded her arms across her chest, “Course you do.”

Billy places the kettle on its base, his curiosity piqued as he turns to lean casually against the counter. “Alright then, where is it?” He asks.

She presses her lips together to suppress the desire to outright smile, her hands coming to the buttons at the front of her dress, unfurling the fabric, revealing inch after inch of tantalising skin. Billy's eyes follow, his jaw on the floor at the layer of red lace that adorned her curves. He swallowed hard, momentarily speechless as her dress rippled to the floor, leaving her stood in a crimson ensemble that rendered him stupid.

He said nothing, but simply made his way to her, making no attempt to touch her yet. And sank slowly to his knees, large hands bracing the spot above her waist beside her breasts, pressing his face to her bare stomach and exhaling.

“Good boy,” she praises softly, running her fingers through his hair as he raises his eyes to her, a flicker of hunger in them. She didn’t need him to speak. His body said it all, how much he craved her, how willing he was to please.

She let her fingertips trail down his face, her smile softening. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

He gives the slightest nod, his hands itching to touch her more. “Please, baby, don't…” he breathes, as if it physically pains him to be teased.

Her smile deepened, equal parts tender and wicked. “But you look so good like this,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. “On your knees, desperate for me. You’re perfect.”

Billy’s breath hitched at her words, the praise sinking into him like fire. She took his hand, guiding it to her thigh, letting him feel the heat of her skin through the delicate lace. His lips parted, and without waiting for more, he leaned in, pressing reverent kisses against her stomach, each one slow and deliberate.

“Good boy,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair as he worked his way down, his lips trailing lower, his breath hot against her skin.

When he reached her waistband, he glanced up, waiting for her nod before carefully pushing the lace aside. She gasped softly as his tongue flicked out, the warmth of his mouth teasing her entrance, trailing up to her clit. Billy gripped her thighs, pressing her back against the cool counter as he buried himself between her legs.

“That’s it,” she praised, her voice breathy and warm. “Just like that, baby. You’re so good to me.”

His eyes met hers briefly before he doubled down, his tongue moving with purpose down to her entrance again, fucking her with his tongue as if he himself drew pleasure from it. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as her breathing grew more erratic, thighs shaking as his fingers made bruises in flesh.

“God, Billy,” she moaned, her head tilting back as the tension coiled tighter in her core. “You’re perfect. My perfect– ah.”

The praise strained his jeans, combined with the taste of her, having her all to himself, his knees burning against the floor. He thought, this was the best fucking meal he'd ever had in this kitchen. She was sweet, warm and needy, all he ever wanted.

He groaned against her, the vibration sending a white hot wave up her spine, the pleasure tightening in her gut. Her head threw back against the cupboards, her grip on his hair so hard she was sure she might have been pulling too much.

His hands slid up to her waist, pulling her down to his mouth in rhythmic movements. His nose brushed against her clit, and that was what sent her finally spiralling.

Her thighs trembled around him, her nails digging into the countertop for support as her climax crashed over her. Each wave of pleasure wracked her body, pulling a guttural moan from her lips. Fuck the neighbours, she thought, completely lost in the moment. Nothing else mattered but him and the way he worshipped her with his mouth.

Billy didn’t relent, his tongue working her through every last tremor. Even when she was fully spent, humming in the afterglow, he kept this slow, lazy pace of forcing her hips to roll over his face.

“Billy,” she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Too much…”

Only then did he ease off, placing one last reverent kiss against her sensitive flesh before looking up, his lips glistening, his eyes heavy with satisfaction. He pressed his forehead against her stomach, his breath hot against her skin as he waited for her to come back down.

“You’re amazing,” she murmured, her voice shaky but full of warmth. She cupped his face, gently lifting it so their eyes met. “So good for me.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. She pulled him to his feet, her lips finding his in a slow, intense kiss, tasting herself on him, stoking a flame inside her. Their lips moved in sync as she guided him toward the bedroom. Her legs were still shaky, but she didn’t care. She wanted him, all of him, and nothing was going to stop her.

When they reached the bed, she pushed him back onto the mattress, climbing over him with predatory intent. His hands immediately found her hips, but she pinned them down against the sheets, her eyes gleaming with playful dominance.

“Not yet,” she whispered, leaning down to nip at his jawline. “You’ve been so good for me tonight. Let me take care of you now.”

Billy groaned, his hands flexing under her grip, but he didn’t resist. He trusted her completely, and that trust only fueled her desire. She kissed her way down his chest, her hands following the trail of her lips, savoring every inch of him.

When she finally reached his waistband, she looked up, her gaze locked onto his. “Tell me what you want, baby,” she murmured, her fingers teasing at the fabric, stroking his erection through his jeans.

“You,” he managed, his voice a low growl. “Just you.”

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@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[finniestoncrane]

I have to ask 😔

Which of the Riddlers do you think would be into musk? OR OR how would they feel about their partner being into it????? Whatever works

Riddler Headcanons okey dokey hello i am the partner who would be snffing them all day like i was on a binge at a yankee candle shop lmaoooo this is just general musk, like any naturally occurring body smells, because i consider musk to encompass it all and not just balls u-u 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: musk, scent kink, bodily fluids, piss but only briefly in arkham's section, period blood in dano's section

arkham

he fuckin loves musk. it's his favourite thing ever. smells in general just do it for him

like climbing the walls, desperate to inhale your pheromones, and it's far better if that goes both ways

he couldn't even narrow down his favourite smell, although obviously he'd choose bodily odours over anything else

would absolutely bottle up the scent of his partners pussy or dick or balls and huff it while he jerked off

he's burying his face between your ass cheeks and taking in a BIG deep breath whenever the opportunity presents itself

he enjoys the tangy scent of blood on skin (which is having a distinctly uncomfortable effect on his run-ins with batman...)

hell, he'll even force you to hold your piss in for way longer than you should just so you have a little accident and he can sniff that

and one thing he's particularly fond of is sweat, and how it smells different under your arms, on your neck, on your back

100% is likely to lay in bed after sex just enjoying the scent of cum and slick and arousal that lingers in the air once it's all over

dano

down on his knees begging for you to let him sniff you, let him taste you, please just let your body linger on his somehow

it's very much about the intimacy with him, so he would enjoy it more if he was sniffing you while you were sniffing him back

like two little puppies getting to know each other in a little mutually beneficial ritual

it makes him feel wanted, desired, and most importantly it makes him feel like he's known

especially when you start to smell him when you don't know he's there, sniffing the air for the familiar scent hidden in the shadows

when he finds you sleeping with his old, dirty clothes, holding them to you when you're in bed

his favourite smell, though, is definitely blood, and particularly yours (as long as you're not hurt unwillingly!)

and if you're someone who has periods, you'll find he can sense it on you before you even have symptoms like a bloodhound

it's so violent and carnal and natural but a little bit sinful and taboo, so it's perfect for him!!

twojar

it's not even so much a kink for this guy, more that it's something he needs

a partner's scent is never something he would turn his nose up at (i am so sorry lmao)

he enjoys someone's natural musk, the scent that just somehow exists on their skin

permeating from them like a part of their personality, as important as a smile or their voice

i mean, he is a big believer in pheromones etc. and that's part of the reason that he has so much cleavage on display usually

it lets any potential partners smell him better, makes him like a magnet for the people who vibe best with what he's got

and while he's not necessarily into any specific smells that he could really name off the top of his head

he does really enjoy the smell of sweat when he's fucking you, your bodies becoming one

and how the smell of your body amplifies the taste when he's kissing you or licking you or biting you or eating you

young justice

comfort, sexual, romantic, platonic, when he's happy or when he's sad, he is literally llooking for one thing

and that is to bury his face into his favourite person, their body, their hair, their chest, their neck

and then inhale like it's literally the source of his life, more important than oxygen

and you just know he's getting immediately hard and exhaling with a pathetic little whimper

it's not something he's though of all that much about in terms of kinks, but it is very romantic to him

to experience someone so close he can smell them, and to feel like someone wants to get that close to him in return

definitely can bring him to tears to have your smell close to him though, like when you've been sleeping in his bed

or when you've borrowed his jacket, and he can smell you on them once you're gone, so it's like you didn't really leavve

and he'd be so happy to have a partner who was into musk sexually, someone who would sniff his hair or his pits or his balls

just someone who would appreciate him completely and wholly, which is like, his biggest kink lmao

telltale

he likes the smell of sex, it's like a personal perfume that reminds him of a partner

it's not anything he goes wild for, but it's something he'd notice the longer he was with someone

that he can remember them by smell, can tell when they've walked into a room by the way he can sense them

the way just thinking about the musk of you both, sweating and rutting, can get him very excited

AND as someone with an ample ego (and a little bit of an inferiority complex going on underneath it all)

he does like to look and seem his best at all times, like can we say super stylish hoodie peepaw?

so if he's ever over-exerted himself and feels kind of sweaty, he'd appreciate a partner that still finds him alluring and irresistible

and despite feeling like you should be begging for him, he'd use scents to attract you or to please you, to get your attention

he'd start wearing fragrances that he knows you're more likely to lean in for another whiff of just to get you close to him

zero year

he hates his partner to smell like anything other than fresh powdered sugar strawberry donuts or strawberries

definitely a believer that pussies shouldn't smell or taste like anything beyond peaches

because he's an asshole who thinks his partners should be subserviant and perfect, they have to be good enough for him

he, however, is welcome to be as stinky as he wants because he's a hypocritical douchebag

something about how it's macho to smell like sweat, something else about chemicals and the laws of attraction

and more than likely some other bullshit he definitely learned from a loser pick-up artist

but when he's finally presented with a body, he's on his knees begging you to let him taste you or smell you

whining or the privilege of experiencing your body raw and natural, in the state it's in at that moment

because he's really just a pathetic little romantic at heart, who could get hard at the smell of his partner's chosen deoderant

and can you really complain about him when you're nuzzling into his sideburns and sniffing his neck?

gotham

he wouldn't have thought that musk or smells would be something he was particularly into

but of course he quickly realised that it's very sexy to get all sweaty and hot with a partner

as a neat and tidy boy, it means he's got an extra fun task afterwards of warding off the sex smell

he doesn't mind someone's natural scent, but he's big on fresh smells, like mint or cucumber or some light citrus

scents that make you delicious, good enough to eat, like a carefully prepared meal

if you're clean, then that gives him something to tarnish, to take your perfect self and dirty it

unfortunately, he can't make you smell perfect to him because his favourite smell is actually formaldehyde

and it would be... uncomfortable for that smell to arouse him. at least he thinks it would be. one side of him wuold argue differently

so unless you're willing to get a little bit freaky at the gcpd morgue then... eucalyptus and lemon zest candle by the bed it is!

btaa

musk at least pertaining to body odours is sort of whatever to him, but he is definitely into scents

it's important to him to smell as wonderful as he looks and feels. it gives a better impression of him, like a signature perfume

he's not at all bothered by a partner who is into musk though, as long as they're not too disappointed by his artificial scent

that magically lingers after a run in with batman where he's getting pummelled and then left in a holding cell for four hours

with a partner, he's definitely keen on a sweet smell so he can give them a sickly little petname

so honey bun, cookie, cinnamon bun, little berry, scents that conjure up those kinds of themes all work!!

he has a penchant for absolutely devouring you, so matching the smell to the taste would give him a kick

btas

he's not particularly into smells or scents or musk in a partner, but it's not something he's necessarily against

if he was pushed for an answer about his favourite smell in reference to a partner, he'd say it was their body, fresh

just out of a shower, not using anything perfumed to wash themselves

a natural scent that he can pick up when he kisses your neck, one that is unmistakably you

one that he thinks of when he misses you, that can give him a little boost when he's gone too many days at work without seeing you

he would enjoy having a partner who was into musk or scents though, the ego boost would be phenomenal

what do you mean, you enjoy him unfiltered and as he comes? of course you do! because he's perfect

i think he'd also be so delighted with the idea of you picking out an aftershave for him

putting that much thought into him would definitely persuade him to wear just the aftershave the next time he's got you alone

unburied

it's difficult for him, because while he would love his partner regardless of how they smelled

musk is just not something he is into in the slightest for so many reasons, mostly related to the trauma of being an arkham iinmate

he's a tidy and smart and well-dressed boy (when he's got access to his own wardrobe and a warm shower)

even when he's hiding from the law in unseemly hotel rooms, he's still dedicated to a daily shower and ironing his shirts

so eing cooped up in arkham with other people and limited shower time was a nightmare

everyone just openly sweating and bleeding and crying and masturbating and stinking

those smells will unfortunately never leave him, so he prefers things to have a mask of artificial delight

i apologise, my fellow grot-lovers, but he permanently smells like sweet vanilla with notes of burning leaves

[luveline]

hi hi jade! happy valentines! could u do “please don’t ever become a stranger” with sirius or steve? ty!!!!

luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎

thanks so much! I messed with the dialogue a bit so it sounded more modern <3 fem!reader

"You're my favourite person," you say softly.

Sirius, hand in your hand, tugging you along through the shopping centre with his eyes on the windows you pass, turns to you with a confused smile.

"What'd you say?" he asks. He gives your fingers a squeeze.

"I said, you're my favourite person. Out of everybody I've ever met, everyone I know." You step as close to him as you can without knocking him over.

"Is that right?" His tone is teasing, his smile anything but. He looks so happy. "You're my favourite person, too."

"I was just thinking, you know? Out of everyone, and anywhere, I just wanna be with you. I don't care where we are."

You and Sirius walk until you reach the middle of the shopping centre, where a small boba/bakery is open planned. The air smells like cinnamon sugar and lime juice mixed together.

You sit down together on a bench and he's quick to accost you for some much too public affection, swinging his arm around your shoulder to hug you, his lips pressed soft to your cheek.

"Fuck, I love you," he mumbles. He breathes you in.

You push him away. Not because you don't want him close, but for the sake of the people around you. If you weren't in public right now you'd kiss him breathless. He's your baby, he's so pretty, and you love how he goes in for a hug before a kiss, every time.

"I love you too," you say.

Sirius beams. He leaves to grab drinks and warm treats, a basket of donuts and pretzels covered in warm brown sugar. The donuts are the real kind, a little chewy, and they're the best thing you've ever tasted. Your fingers dance around each other inside the basket, and Sirius lets you have the last pretzel, and it's so peaceful you could cry.

"Please don't–" You look up at him, stare him straight in the eyes. "I don't ever want you to be a stranger to me."

Sirius wipes his hands in a napkin. "That's not happening."

"No, but, if this doesn't work out. If we don't work out. I think that would be worse than losing you, knowing you're out there and we don't recognise each other anymore."

"Darling, this is very serious talk to be having over donuts." Sirius puts his hand behind your neck. "What's making you think about all this, hm? Things are perfect, aren't they?"

Despite how closed the question might seem, you know he wouldn't mind if you said, no, things aren't perfect. Well, he'd more than mind, he'd work until you fixed it. Reason a thousand why you love him.

"Things are perfect."

He beams. Pretty-mouth, high cheeks, a feminine look about his eyes that drives you mad, all those lovely long lashes, so thick and dark.

"We won't ever be strangers," he promises, scratching the nape of your neck lightly. "Now finish your pretzel. We still haven't been in the Yankee Candle shop, have we? You're gonna need two free hands."

"You're gonna need two free hands."

"That's my girl."

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

hey silly question maybe. do you know why cars are so boring now? like im on the wikipedia page for the cadillac eldorado for Reasons and it's a really visually interesting car through all the generations up until like. the tenth in 1979 when it just kinda looks like. every other car (if a bit more square) is this just like, the Capitalism Thing of shit getting more and more boring and samey over the years? or is there like a reason. idk much about cars but this has always annoyed and confused me, i miss interesting looking cars :(

Well, it should be noted that the tenth generation Eldorado's case is a peculiar one. As I've gone over, old American cars tended to be refreshed every other year, and the Eldorado, meant to represent the top of the top of that uniquely American idea of opulence, was perhaps the car most supposed to do so. Hence, as you'll have found, its ninth generation launched in 1971, just 18 years after the first - thats' how long the only generation of Italy's best selling car at the time, the Fiat 500, was sold for.

You wouldn't have expected that generation to stick around for more than four years - no other generation did, and almost all lasted half that. However, 1973 had other plans. Namely, the fuel crisis that completely eviscerated demand for mastodonic fuel guzzlers.

Sales would decline the following years, with little tweaks here and there but no major update, which would have been money down the drain as existing owners could barely afford to fill up the damn things, let alone upgrade, and what were potential customers before couldn't afford to fill up the damn things full stop. So when the new model finally came, this big aspirational car was shrunken down to get on with times of shrinking aspirations.

Nigh on 5.20 meters (for yankees, that's roughly 4/207ths of a Titanic) will hardly seem short to European sensibilities, but let's remember, that's coming from 5.70. You could walk between two walls that far apart. The width, too, decreased by a whole 20cm (for yankees, that's roughly half a rabbit), which in car width terms is massive - like, it's the difference between a Mini and a Mustang.

This to say, the tenth generation Eldorado is oft maligned as a fall from grace, one of the most popular examples of why the malaise moniker stuck to this era of American cars - so not exactly the fairest assessment of how cars changed with time. How about, then, we start our analysis by looking at a car with a much better received update, shall we?

Of course, the Mk1 Volkswagen Golf (for yankees, that's roughly a Rabbit) was a smash hit the world over, so much so that in Mexico it remained on sale as the Citi Golf as recently as 2009(!), and if I didn't think it the best looking Golf that ever was I probably wouldn't own one...

...but unless the only kink you're into is the Hofmeister, I don't see how the second generation's styling is such a downgrade as to bemoan the state of things. And frankly...

...maybe it's just the boiled frog syndrome, but I can't spot a point in which anything 'went wrong', so to speak. Which leads to the all-important question:

You say you miss interesting looking cars, but I do have to ask - when did they ever leave?

Have a browse of my pride post (no, really, go read it, I think it's one of my best ever) and point me to the boring cars within it, because me, I don't see any. And I suspect the reasons are similar to why you see older cars as more interesting.

For one, given the point of the post, all the cars shown are some flashy color, and each is different from every other. This, however, is increasingly becoming an anomaly as greyscale gobbles up an ever increasing share of the market, meaning on average, modern cars are less colorful, and thus less visually interesting. I've written about cause and effect of the greyscalification of cars, and suffice to say I'm not a fan of it - but I feel like that is a discussion separate from car design itself.

Then, of course, there's that those in the post are all cars that I like, so that selection was curated (albeit only by my personal taste). But that is also the case when we look back at older cars: what you see around and what you hear about is what people cared enough about to preserve and to discuss - not just in terms of models but of versions, specs and even colors. If you look at car shows like Radwood or Oblivion, which celebrate 80s and 90s cars, the very time period you referred to as the beginning of the end for interesting design looks like its heyday!

Yes, that trailer is factory.

Unfortunately, it must be said that unique and interesting cars have become fewer and fewer, as the ever increasing regulations make it even more expensive than it already was for smaller brands to emerge and the economic status of things makes it increasingly harder to justify a funky, daring picks for the biggest purchase of the average person's life - let alone the purchase of a second car, which tends to be what more extreme offerings were bought as. A brighter future seems to be ahead, though, with Toyota's incredible GR Corolla/Yaris and 86 apparently about to be joined by yet more spicy goodness and Mazda teasing a return of the rotary engined sportscar. For the twentieth time, sure, but after having seen the Motocompo revival actually happen, I am ready to kick that football.

(because you knew about the new electric Motocompacto, right?)

But there's another thing that post's selection had going for it: variety. Pretty much every car in it was in a wholly different category from all the others, and that is bound to make each car within it seem a lot more interesting than if it had been surrounded by cars of its same segment.

The survivorship bias outlined above also results in far more variety than you would find in normal traffic: even setting aside the halo car dynamic whereby the most special -and therefore most interesting- cars are usually niche offerings with very low sales figures, people tend to remember, discuss and seek out cars that represent some extreme - be it the fastest, the most expensive, the greatest, but also the slowest, the cheapest, the worst... and the tallest, the lowest, the biggest, the smallest, and so on. In short, the cars you'll find the least interest for are the everyday, quietly competent cars that make up the bulk of vehicles on the road.

Although, going far enough back in time, even those appear interesting to us, because their context's norm was so different from ours that even the cars that most adhered to it seem exotic to our sensibilities.

But when actually viewed in their own context...

...that impression tends to be stifled.

Unfortunately, it seems to me as though variety is also being stifled nowadays, with a growing share of body styles on sale becoming SUV/crossovers, and the increase in platform sharing reducing automotive outliers (for better and for worse).

And I should note: as for the other industry shifts I mentioned, the driving force isn't Big Capital or The Evil Economic System or what have you. It's the consumers. Sure, we can blame manufacturers for turning every model into a more profitable SUV, but they couldn't do this if they didn't sell, and they wouldn't do this if people didn't see them as more prestigious vehicles worth paying more for. We can blame manufacturers for killing weird car projects, but usually they get axed because people don't buy the things. Dealerships still order grey cars because no one digs their heels about having theirs yellow. So on.

So in short, old cars have always looked more interesting, because time alters our perception of them in ways that make them seem as much - and it also happens that lately the car industry has gone in the opposite direction to those alterations, causing new cars to seem less interesting. So, in short, the problem is the comparison just isn't apples to apples.

I think this is why that Golf evolution does not show any trend towards boring or away from interesting in my eyes - because it mostly strips those factors away. Here's a bunch of generations of the same car, all silver, all presented with no context bar the version before or after, all in the same body style which, for its entire history, was a common sight pretty much anywhere. (Also helps, of course, that the Golf's evolution had no wacky twists and always nailed the zeitgeist.)

This not to say that I can't complain about modern car designs - but for that, don't compare apple to apple... compare it to Microsoft.

See, I can think of many modern designs I find bland and devoid of personality, not because of a lack of styling effort but precisely due to an overabundance of it: so keen were the designers to put a crease here and a fold there and a kink somewhere to make the brand's seventh SUV set itself apart from the other six that the design became too overburdened with details to have a clear message - like a story with too many events for them to express a cohesive point.

Or, indeed, like this parody of Microsoft packaging in which their design principles are applied to the iconic, nay, legendary packaging of the original iPod.

This is an actual Microsoft video btw. This was made internally by Microsoft's marketing department.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

[intheholler]

Do you have any tips for being more comfortable using your natural accent in front of people? I was bullied for it as a kid and scrubbed my accent away through teenhood. As an adult, I feel like I still have to put on a neutral accent so people at work won't judge me. I told one of my old bosses that I was from Appalachia and he went on about how he'd seen do many documentaries on Appalachia and what good people we were, but also added that "Wow! I never would have known. You don't have an accent at all. You're so well-spoken!" and it felt bad. I think he had good intentions, but it made me feel like a zoo animal. I always see comments on other Appalachian folks' posts about their accents too, and there's always a handful of jerks who have to say something about their intelligence or make an incest or drug addict "joke".

It all hurts a lot and makes me self-conscious, but I don't want to be this way around my friends. Do you know how I can stop letting peoples' ignorance and classism get to me? Worrying about how I pronounce words or if I'm using region-specific slang all the time is so exhausting.

hi there <3 this is a topic near n dear to my heart because i spent so much of my life trying to avoid sounding appalachian, and the last few years of it desperate to sound so aggressively appalachian that yankees can't understand me, lmao.

that is all to say: this is gonna be long as usual.

first: class solidarity, family <3 this stuff really sucks.

what inspired me to push past the discomfort of using my natural accent after a lifetime of getting rid of it was actually along the lines of what you mentioned: people being shocked that i could be from appalachia, and be articulate at the same time. there are so many nasty, hurtful implications there.

i hate to say it, but there's no easy answer to this.

something in me just… snapped one day about ten years back. i started to look inward, and i discovered this overwhelming pride and passion and love for my home that i had denied myself my whole life, out of fear over how it made me look.

i started doing the self-work and digging deeper into that. it wasn't comfortable, but once i embraced appalachia, i wanted to defend her. the best way to do that for me was to be loud. my pride in where im from outweighed the rest.

maybe you should start there, too. look inward, break down your own subconscious biases about yourself and about our home. find out why you have been made to think this way.

work on loving the appalachian parts of yourself. GET. FUCKING. ANGRY. at those who poisoned your mind with this shit, and use that fury to work on dismantling the beliefs they imposed upon you.

because why shouldn't we talk like our mamas just because some asshole thinks its funny? why should we give up ties to our community and culture, just to be respected? why should every blessed conversation be emotionally and physically taxing just to make a classist more comfortable?

it isn't my shame to carry, and it isn't yours. it is their shame, and their self-work to do. it is not our responsibility to coddle their ignorance. that is on them.

now, when someone hears me talk, it causes a sort of dissonance that they then have to wrestle with. it shifts the discomfort and emotional labor away from me, and puts it on to them instead.

every time i speak proudly, they have to confront themselves and their biases, and how it harms someone that they respect--you.

and if they aren't the kind of person empathetic enough to do that, literally who gives a shit what someone like that thinks about you.

turn those 'jokes' they make about it right back on them:

why is drug addiction funny? why is incest and sexual assault of children funny? why are underfunded schools and a failure to give children across the nation a fair and equal education something to laugh about?

framing it in my mind that i was taking back control in conversations this way helped me speak more comfortably. it made me feel empowered.

i think of it like this: by speaking in my dialect and embodying positive and "unexpected" traits from the region (leftist politics, anti-racism, things like that), i reclaim my power. i use that power to slowly shift the opinions of appalachia with the people i interact with.

it was scary, and it's still scary. but by making a conscious decision every day to speak in our dialect and be courageous even when it's hard, we are reclaiming the parts of ourselves that they took from us. we are bettering the image of the region we love so dearly.

it is INCREDIBLY empowering now to settle into my accent. but it took a LOT of self-work, courage and self-respect to be able to do it.

it ain't easy. i do still struggle with it; i catch myself code switching all the time. i don't think you or me or any of us trying to reclaim our accents will ever fully escape the weight of the classism that dictated our manner of speaking for a huge chunk of our lives, unfortunately.

but if you do that difficult work, it is so, so liberating, family.

you can do it. talk to yourself when you're home alone. let the accent get comfortable again on your tongue. start there, then let that beautiful dialect out for the world to hear <3

[elisysd]

6. How can I move on when I'm still in love wih you?

Masterlist - Previous - Next

Chapter soundtrack: The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script

Landing in New York brought a sense of joy, excitement and thrill. It had been so long since you had been there. You missed the city, you missed the people, and missed the busy atmosphere. However, you had not missed the airport and the labyrinth it was. Deactivating your airplane mode you immediately noticed the strange notification that popped up on your screen. Charles had started to follow you on Instagram. He had even sent you a DM. You had to admit, the guy was persistent. 

Hey. I forgot to ask for your number, I hope that’s okay. I’m in New York and it’s my first time there. I was wondering if you had any recommendations of if you were willing to organize a group tour with my friends and my brothers? You told me you were willing to help me learn a thing or two about baseball but I was wondering if it could apply for New York itself? If you don't, that's fine.

You bit your lips. There were a few things that were making you overjoyed in this world and showing New York around to people was one of them. You didn’t think twice and quickly replied that you would love to. You would just have to ask your friend first to make sure he wouldn’t mind. Once your suitcase was retrieved, you rushed to the arrivals terminal, searching for your friend. You were quick to notice him, his Yankees baseball cap on his head, letting his blonde curls appear and falling on his blue eyes. You didn’t hesitate to run to him, throwing your arms over his shoulders as his hands found your waist to hold you closer. 

“Oh gosh, Stan, how I missed you.” you mumbled.

“I missed you too, butterfly. A whole lot. Life here is not the same without you.”

“I’m sure you managed.”

Stan took your suitcases and you made your way towards the exit to his car. You started to tell him all about your work and your daily life and he did the same. You had so many things to catch up on that the ride home went smoothly and fast. Once at his place, you went to the bathroom for a quick shower and when you came back he had put a few snacks on plates. 

“So… I was thinking. Do you remember that karaoke bar we were always going to when we were students?”

“How could I forget?” you replied, drinking your orange juice in one gulp. 

“Wanna go there? For old times sake?”

You happily nodded before your mind drifted off to Charles. Maybe he would like to come? It was in a trendy area of Manhattan and it was your favorite spot in the city, you would love for him to discover it. 

“I have a… colleague who is also in New York. With friends. Would you mind if they were joining us?” you asked. 

“No, of course not. I would love to meet them!” Stan smiled.  

You took your phone quickly to send Charles a text with the name and address of the bar as well as the hour you would be there. You reassured him, saying it’s lowkey and no one would bother him there. 

I’m in a meeting right now and I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it on time. I’ll try my best though. 

You wondered why you felt a pinch in your heart while reading his text. It was not as if you absolutely wanted him to be there, it was just a meaningless proposition. You shook your head, hoping to make the strange thoughts go away. Charles was nothing to you. And yet, if it was really the case you wouldn’t have to remind yourself of it. So, to distract yourself you proceeded to dress up for the evening and have fun with Stan. Maybe then, you wouldn’t think of Charles too much. 

The neons were as bright as what you remembered and the sushis were still to die for. The karaoke singers were a mix of mindblowing talent and whales dying, but you didn’t care. Stan was making you laugh, telling you anecdotes about your classmates and keeping you updated on his whereabouts. But you couldn’t help yourself but to watch the front door, secretly hoping a certain someone would show up. It was starting to get late, you were there for two hours already but had no intentions of seeing the night end that soon. 

“You know, I really missed you, Y/N.” Stan said over the noise.

“I know, you’ve already told me at least three times since I arrived.” you laughed.

“No, I mean. I really missed you. I missed us.” he repeated, putting a hand on yours to squeeze it. And suddenly, it was all so clear to you.

“Stan…”

“No, listen to me. We had something going on, you know it, I do too. It was good. We were good. I was good to you. We were a perfect match, everyone could see it. And then I made the mistake of letting you take that fucking plane back home… there is not a day that I don’t regret it.”

You sighed. You didn't want to have the same conversation as last year.

“You know why it had to end. I had just gotten my dream job and with the constant traveling required, long distance wouldn’t have worked out. It was nice, I’m not denying it, but it’s over.” you tried to explain. 

“I know that. I know what it implies but I swear, we can work it out. I’m ready to make it work out, just give me a chance.”

“I don’t want a relationship.” you stated and as he was about to reply, the door opened revealing Charles followed by Andrea, Joris, Arthur, Antoine and Lorenzo. You let out a sigh of relief that Stan caught. Following your gaze, his jaw clenched when he noticed the group coming in your directions. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been caught in my meeting and then Andrea and Joris managed to get lost in New York and came back late but we’re here.” he smiled, taking a seat naturally next to you. 

He introduced you to everyone before trying to get to know Stan. He noticed easily how cold he is towards him and didn’t fail to see how he was acting towards you, making sure to make Charles understand that he knew you very well. He saw how his eyes were glued to you as you were talking to Joris and Andrea, even laughing with them. 

Stan suddenly got up to go to the bar and came back a few minutes later, two drinks in his hand. A beer for him and a cosmo for you. 

“Your favorite, butterfly.” he commented, letting his hand linger on your shoulder. Charles heard you thanking him with a smile and he couldn’t help but feel a rise of competitiveness in him. It was a warm feeling, something he had not felt in a long time. Was he jealous? Why would he? You were nothing to him. 

He didn’t really have time to focus on it as he felt you standing up to go to the stage. He stared at you maybe a little bit too long as he felt Stan getting closer to him. 

“She is gorgeous, I know. And I know exactly what you are thinking about but just to make it clear, she is mine and I’m hers. She doesn’t realize it yet but she will eventually. We have history, we belong together. You will never compete.” he told him with a smug look on his face. 

Charles was about to answer when the first notes of Abba’s Dancing Queen started and soon he felt captivated by your presence on stage and forgot about Stan. He wasn't worth his breath. Especially when he was not sure about what he was feeling for you. It would be stupid to start something he was not sure he would finish and to ruin your night. You were kind to invite him, he didn’t want you to regret it. 

Though, Stan was right, you were gorgeous. Absolutely breathtaking. For the first time he was seeing you so carefree, so far from the image you had built of yourself in the paddock. You looked younger. And it didn’t matter how off key you sometimes were, he was enthralled by you, like a sailor attracted to a siren’s call. 

When you came back, you were smiling so much that your cheeks were hurting. You went to Charles who was still speechless and flustered. 

“When are you showcasing your singing talent?” you asked him.

“Never. I’m down to show you my piano skills whenever you want but singing is not something I’m good at.”

“Come on, not even for fun?” you tried to persuade him.  

“Well, if singing is not your thing, it’s mine.” Stan interrupted you both and went to the stage. 

You didn't understand why Stan was so harsh towards Charles but you hated the look he gave him and the wink he sent you made you feel ill-at-ease. And when the first notes of The Man Who Can’t Be Moved by The Script started to play, you gulped. This song bore a lot of meaning for both of you. It was the first song you had sung together here, a song that reminded you of your relationship with Stan. You started to fidget on your seat and when the first chorus began you couldn’t hold it anymore. You got up, took your bag and left under the wide eyes of Charles and his friends. The Monegasque didn’t wait for his friends as he did the same as you, following you outside. 

You were hailing a taxi that didn’t bother to stop, making you swear, and when he got closer he heard you crying. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

You glared at him. 

“I’m peachy, just crying for fun. Have you ever tried?”

He ignored your sarcastic tone and got closer. 

“I just want to leave this place. Why is it so hard to find a taxi?” you were starting to get angrier by the second.

“Hey, Y/N… calm down, okay. We are going to find a taxi and I’m taking you back to where you stay. I’m not letting you alone when you look like a mess.”

“I don’t want to go back there��” you started to admit, a lump in your throat. “I’m staying at Stan’s and I don’t want to go back to him. I don’t expect you to understand…”

“I won’t ask you to explain. Let’s go back to my hotel room. You can stay there if you want. I will give you the bed.”

“It’s not a good idea…”

“I insist. Don’t worry about a single thing. You need somewhere to stay, away from your friend, let me help you. Let me be a good friend.”

You ended up accepting. 

“I don’t have anything… everything is at Stan’s. Would you mind going with me so I can retrieve my things and leave his keys?”

“You don’t even need to ask.”

There, you quickly packed up, giving your suitcases to Charles before writing a note quickly to tell Stan that it was not a good idea to be there and that you preferred to leave. As you walked out, you left the spare key under the rug and followed Charles outside. 

The ride to his hotel was made in silence. But for once, it’s a nice one, it’s peaceful, it’s comfortable. You didn’t want to jump out of the car and you felt the emotions of the day washing off. You yawned and snuggled further into the backseat. When you arrived, you followed Charles closely until he revealed the room he was staying in. You shouldn’t be surprised to see how big and luxurious it was, but here you were. It was so foreign for you. He let you take your time to change in the bathroom while he put a few pillows and blankets on the huge sofa. When you got out, seeing him struggling to find a good position to sleep made you feel bad.

“I should be the one sleeping there. It’s your room, I’m just an intruder… and you need to sleep well. It’s important for athletes.”

“Shut up, will you? I’m good, don’t worry about me.”

Still, you felt guilty. You looked at the bed. It's big enough for four people at least. And you didn’t know what went through your mind, but when you heard your voice speaking, you knew there was no coming back and that you were about to play a dangerous game. 

“It’s a big bed, both of us will fit easily in it. I don’t mind… as long as this stays between us. No one can know.” you said.

Author's note: A little jealous Charles just for you heheheh

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[thedeviltohisangel]

not my best idea but since reading your request for a disagreement i keep thinking of spook being sleep deprived for working so much so she’s snippy and john ends up (gently) manhandling her into taking a nap

*BLURB WEEKEND*

This is giving me post-war domestic feelings.

Cass is helping stand up the newly created CIA and it involves long hours and late nights and the phones don't allow her to call John.

At this time, she'd also be a couple months pregnant with the twins (BUT....when and how should they learn there are two??). This makes him extra attuned to her and her body. Extra insistent she puts her feet up and closes her eyes and eats well balanced meals.

John has resigned himself to eating dinner alone for another night. Cracking a beer while he turns the radio to the Yankees game and reads the reports from the test flights for the day. He hears a car pull into the driveway. Hears it turn off. But doesn't hear the door open or close.

He goes outside and slides in next to her. "Rough day?"

"What gave that away?"

"You eat?"

"If I say no, will I be accused of not caring about myself and our child again?" John scoffed.

"That is not at all what I said, Cass. I just asked if you could show yourself a little grace and take extra care of yourself."

"I'm trying, dammit! I have people expecting me to save the world during the day and then I come home and can't spend any time with you because you just want me to sleep and eat and then I have to wake up and repeat it all again and...and...and." She is out of breath from her rant and the tears and her chest is heaving and John has her against his chest.

"Get it all out, baby." He kisses the top of her head and rubs her back until she wears herself out. "I'm sorry for adding any pressure to you. You and the little bean are the only things in this world that matter to me. I just want you two to be taken care of."

She falls asleep on his chest right there and he lets her rest for a little while before carrying her into the house and tucking her into their bed.

John takes the day off to cook her breakfast and carry it to bed and he asks her to consider staying home with him too. So they can laugh and smile and rub her belly and he can talk to it the way he loves but hasn't been able to.

I really love this era of them. When they are getting back into the swing of normal laugh and establishing their marriage and household. Definitely want to chat about this more!

[devildomsoup]

hii!!!! can i request karaoke hcs for the brothers? (could u also add what song u think they'd sing lol) ty very much <333

Karaoke Headcanons

Lucifer

Believe it or not, Lucifer actually enjoys doing karaoke, especially with his brothers. Not that he would ever admit it, though.

It will take a lot of convincing to get him to do it since he has an image to maintain.

He will never laugh at the person singing no matter how bad they might sound.

Lucifer actually becomes irritated when people laugh at someone's singing abilities. It's fine if someone is purposefully trying to sound bad. But if someone is genuinely trying their best, he will shoot whoever is laughing a nasty glare

Lucifer will most likely sing songs by either Kiss, Queen or Ghost.

Depending on the situation, the songs Lucifer sings might change. Let's say he, for instance, was alone with MC

Songs Lucifer might sing

Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen (obviously)

Square Hammer - Ghost

Cirice - Ghost

When alone with MC, tired, or drunk

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

Somebody to Love - Queen

I Was Made for Lovin' You - Kiss

Dance Macabre - Ghost

Are You Satisfied? - MARINA

Mammon

He loves karaoke and has a blast every time.

It's most likely him or Asmodeus, who suggested doing karaoke in the first place.

Super supportive and cheers for whoever is singing.

If someone is scared of singing, Mammon will offer to sing with them so they don't have to do it alone.

Mammon doesn't stick to a particular genre of songs. He does like upbeat songs but is not against singing a slow ballad.

Sometimes, he let his brothers pick what song to sing to mix things up.

Songs Mammon might sing

On Melancholy Hill - Gorillaz

I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor

Gasolina - Daddy Yankee

Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars

Just Dance Lady - Gaga

If you are extremely lucky, you might hear Mammon sing Can You Feel the Love Tonight.

Leviathan

He loves karaoke, but doing it in front of others is scary.

It takes a lot of convincing and encouragement to get him to sing karaoke with others.

Leviathan prefers to have at least 4 or 5 people sing before it's his turn. He needs tge time to prepare himself.

Once he has sung a song or 2, he will become confident, and you will have to force the mic out of his hands.

Anime songs, game fan songs and vocaloid need I say more.

Songs Leviathan might sing

Luka Luka☆ Nightfever - Samfree

the WORLD - Nightmare

Unravel - TK from Ling tosite sigure

World Is Mine - Ryo (supercell)

It's Been So Long - The Living Tombstone

He will absolutely pour his soul out to Unknown Mother Goose by Wowaka. He puts his entire heart into singing that song

Satan

He doesn't hold any particular opinion on karaoke. If asked he will join, but it's not something he would suggest himself.

Usually reads until it's his turn to sing.

Sings a lot of different types of songs. Another one who doesn't stick to a particular genre.

He will definitely be the one who is most likely to sing any form of metal.

Also, most likely to sing any songs involving cats

Songs Satan might sing

Spillways - Ghost

Mein Teil - Rammstein

Everybody Wants to Be a Cat - Aristocats

Sonne - Rammstein

Love Like You - Rebecca Sugar

Papaoutai - Stromae. Satan actually gets a bit emotional when he sings this one.

Asmodeus

Without a doubt, the biggest fan of karaoke amongst the brothers.

He is the reason why there is at least one karaoke night per month.

Asmodeus cheers on everyone who sings.

Now Asmodeus doesn't just sing he preforms. He will give you a whole show when his turn comes.

He likes upbeat dance music, but he is not against trying other genres. He will do an amazing job regardless of what song he sings

Like Lucifer, the songs he sings might depend on the situation and how he is feeling.

Songs Asmodeus might sing

S&M - Rihanna

Toxic - Britney Spears

Applaus - Lady Gaga

Bubblegum Bitch - MARINA

Mary on a Cross - Ghost

When sad, tired or drunk

Washing Machine Heart - Mitski

Gilded Lily - Cults

Hermit the Frog - MARINA

First Love/Late Spring - Mitski

Beelzebub

Another one who doesn't have a particular opinion on karaoke.

He does like it since it brings his brothers together and there tends to be lots of snacks to munch on.

He is very supportive and always encourages people to do their best.

Beelzebub will sing just about anything he doesn't have a preference and usually lets his brothers pick.

When Beelzebub picks songs himself, they tend to hit people right in the heart

Songs Beelzebub might sing

Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

Feel Invincible - Skillit

Gimme Chocolate!! - BABYMETAL

Fix you - Coldplay

A Sky Full of Stars - Coldplay

Home - Cavetown

Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens. This one tends to make his brothers shed a few tears.

Belphegor

Most of the time he joins because he is too tired to move away.

Doesn't have anything against karaoke it's just not his favourite thing.

Falls asleep most of the time and someone have to shake him awake even it is his turn

Belphegor does, however, try his best when either Beelzebub or MC are singing l.

Tends to pick calm songs or songs that doesn't require a lot of work.

Does join Satan from time to timecwhen he sings more aggressive songs

Songs Belphegor might sing

Rises the Moon - Liana Flores

Bad End Theatre True End ver. - NomnomNami

Aunnobeats - Maigo Hanyuu

Little Dark Age - MGMT

This Is Love - Air Traffic Controllers

Runaway - ARORA. It sounds absolutely amazing when he sings this song 10/10.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 43

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1567

Warnings: Mention of death/near-death and childbirth complications

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Also, I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter. It's been a rough couple of months because my company decided to do layoffs and unfortunately, I was in the layoff group ☹️ I know it's short but I do hope you enjoy!

Chapter Songs: Every Storm Sweet Nothings

***

Hangman

The muffled noise of the hustle and bustle in the hospital hallway outside reminded Jake of many things, namely that he survived his brother's attack. He used it to ground him to reality while he slowly got dressed. Coyote had gone to retrieve his truck to bring both Jake and Ghost back to her place since Hangman's was still technically considered a crime scene. Ghost had left to officially check him out of the hospital. Matt had gone to the police station at their request to assist with something in the assault and embezzlement cases against Nick, but he'd promised to come to Ghost's later to help out.

A knock on his door caught his attention, and without turning around, he called for them to come in. It opened, and Ghost said, "You have a visitor."

"I hardly call you a visitor when you've practically lived in this room with me since I got here," he joked, trying to make his girlfriend laugh. She'd barely done so since she'd broken down about the guilt she felt over the entire situation, and Hangman used any opportunity he could to make Ghost laugh, to let her know it wasn't her fault, to let her know he didn't blame her for what happened, and to assure himself that Ghost had made it out alive as well. Her silence was deafening, and hearing her laugh made him believe in her physical presence when he couldn't touch her.

A different, weaker female voice replied, "Ghost isn't referring to herself."

Against his better judgment, Hangman whirled around, instantly regretting the action when pain lanced up his abdomen. He would've reacted to it had he not seen Juliette standing in the doorway; Ghost stood at her side, arm-in-arm, to support her friend and ensure she didn't collapse to the ground.

"Hey, Hangman," Juliette greeted with a small but sincere smile. "You're looking well for a guy who got stabbed multiple times."

Jake strode over to her, saying, "You look good for someone who died and came back."

He enveloped her in a giant, gentle hug, relieved to know his best friend was alive and well. Despite her fragile appearance, Juliette hugged him fiercely. "Sounds like we both almost met Death."

"Yeah, try not to do that again. I don't think my heart could handle it, and I know Rooster's couldn't.

"He's going to be a complete Mother Hen when we get home," Juliette groaned, pulling away from Jake.

"As he should," Ghost and Hangman replied simultaneously. The former added, "How are the twins doing?"

"Doing well, all things considered. We should be able to take them home next week." Juliette glanced up and down at Hangman. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, I promise. Are you?"

Juliette nodded. "Yeah. A little shaken, but okay."

"If it wasn't for you nailing Nick on the head with that baseball bat, I'm not sure we'd all be standing here," Ghost remarked, gently squeezing her friend's arm.

"Don't do drugs, kids." Hangman's joke earned a grin from Juliette and a small smile from Ghost. He ached to reach for her but decided Ghost wouldn't appreciate the gesture in front of her friend because Juliette would pick up on the hidden message and ask what was wrong when all she needed to do was focus on recovering herself. "How'd you escape Bradshaw's watchful eye?"

"A lot of convincing and a little bit of sneaking out while he went to get the Bronco," Juliette confessed sheepishly, scrunching her face up with the knowledge she'd undoubtedly be reprimanded by her fiance.

"Which was not appreciated," came Rooster's voice behind them. All three of them jumped at his sudden appearance. He'd come from around the corner with the most impeccable timing, eyeing his fiancee disapprovingly. "You're lucky your mom was there to tell me where you were."

Ghost moved aside to let Rooster support Juliette, joining Hangman's side. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him, savoring the moment of being able to make such a gesture without repercussions or questions.

Rooster shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Take me to bed or lose me forever?" Juliette suggested with a playful gleam in her sapphire eyes.

"The only reason you're getting into a bed is to rest." Kissing her on top of the head, Rooster then turned to Ghost and Hangman. "Do you two need a ride?"

"No, Coyote's picking us up. Thanks, though."

"All right. If you two need anything-"

"We'll call Coyote because you-" Ghost pointed a firm finger at Rooster- "will be taking care of your wife and kids. On the other hand, if you need anything from me-"

"Us," Hangman corrected.

"Neither of you," Juliette interrupted sternly. "One of you has a severe concussion, the other got stabbed and nearly died, so you're taking care of yourselves and each other and no one else until you're better. Understood?"

"The minute one of us can drive, we're at your disposal. No arguments," Ghost declared with equal seriousness.

Juliette narrowed her eyes at her friend. Hangman might've relented under the intensity of it, but Ghost held firm in her statement. "Fine, but don't overdo it when you're better. Concussions take a while to recover from."

"Trust me, I know." Ghost ruefully rubbed the back of her head, and Hangman flashed back to her high school car wreck. His heart lurched at the memory because it'd terrified him then to see her stumbling out of her totaled car in a daze, and it still horrified him now, especially after what they'd just gone through. "We'll see you soon, though, okay?"

Bidding each other goodbye, the couples parted ways. Hangman watched Rooster and Juliette walk away, the latter leaning heavily onto her husband. Worry gnawed at Hangman, and he asked quietly, "Do you really think she's okay?"

Ghost hesitated for a moment before responding. "No. I don't think she is."

***

Rooster

Watching my wife, I noticed the smile on her face slowly fade until it wholly disappeared by the time we reached home. I tried to think of something, anything, to say to her, but nothing came to mind. I couldn't even begin to imagine what she was going through. In the span of twenty-four hours, she'd been told to go to the hospital for her pre-eclampsia, walked into a fight where two men were trying to murder her friends and family, had a seizure, had an emergency C-section, died, and came back. That was a lot for anyone to handle, even for someone as strong as my wife, and I felt so useless in not being able to do anything about it for her.

I helped Juliette out of the car, and entering the house, her melancholy momentarily disappeared to greet Raptor and Lightning. She knelt on the floor, hugging and kissing our dogs, who acted peculiarly and uncharacteristically reserved, almost like they sensed their mom's fragile state.

"Hi, babies," Juliette whispered, kissing them on their heads. "Momma's okay. I'm okay."

Although subtle, I heard the crack in her voice at the end, and I wondered if her telling the dogs she was okay was more for herself than for them. I sat on the floor beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Juliette said nothing at the contact; she simply continued petting the dogs. For five minutes, we sat in silence. For five minutes, I watched Juliette's face slowly redden, watched tears brim her sapphire eyes, felt her body begin to tremble until I finally softly said, "Jules."

Her composure crumbled, and for the first time in my life, I watched in horror as my wife completely and utterly broke down. Without a word, I pulled her into my arms and cradled her while she wept. Raptor and Lightning lay on the floor on each side of me, flanking us protectively.

"I'm so sorry," Juliette rasped when her sobs had somewhat abated.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I managed to reply despite the painful knot in my throat. I wanted to cry, too, not only because it dawned on me once more how close I'd come to losing my wife but because she felt she had to apologize for it.

"I nearly widowed you and orphaned our children," Jules said. "I should've listened to you. I should've gone sooner to the hospital and-"

"And if we hadn't, you wouldn't have saved Ghost, Hangman, and Maverick. I'm not sure they would've made it had we not shown up. So, yes, it was terrifying and painful to watch you die, but you're still here, Jules. I got you back, our kids got you back, our dogs got you back, and our friends and family are alive because of you."

Juliette sniffled, wiping her nose. "I died, Bradley. I- I can't-"

"I know." I kissed her forehead, understanding that she was still trying to comprehend everything she'd been through. It would be a long while before Juliette was okay again, but I would be here for her no matter what, as would our friends and family. We would help her get through this.

Juliette pulled her head back just far enough to look me in the eyes. I braced my forehead against hers and lightly began pecking her on the lips, whispering a word between each: India. Lima. Yankee. ***

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[averbaldumpingground]

Dialogue prompt: "You can't save someone that doesn't want to be saved."

It's quite when the man comes in, his baseball cap pulled low. A little after 4. That Fleetwood Mac song's on the radio again.

Jazz smiles, and passes him a menu. The tips are crap when she's stuck on the graveyard shift, but really, it's the motherfricking boredom. She's restocked all the ketchup and the straws and halfway through her eighth or ninth sudoku. It's been unusually slow.

It's mostly truckers that they get, this late. Or really fricking early. She likes the chatty ones the best, the ones who flirt. They're mostly all too old for her, but it's something to do to pass the time. This guy just nods his thanks and asks her for a coffee.

He's dressed the part, Jazz thinks, as she wakes up Miguel to start the grill, but she's still pretty sure he's not a trucker. It's something in the way his shoulders tense. His face is worn, what she could see of it, at least. Jazz pegs him as mid-40s, maybe.

"A Monte Cristo, please." He slides the menu over. "I don't suppose that you serve any scotch?"

The smile the man tries on looks mostly pained.

"No liquor license, sorry."

He shrugs. His eyes are blue. Jazz thinks his nose looks like he's broken it before. He dumps a flask of something in his mug.

Jazz probably should care. She doesn't, not very much. She thinks she'll call the cops if he starts driving.

"You promise that you'll go sleep whatever that was off?"

He looks at her, and tries that smile again. It's somehow even worse. Miguel slides her the plate.

"Here. The grease should soak some of that right up."

"That would rather defeat the purpose of my adding it." He takes the sandwich that he ordered anyway. The way he talks sounds off. It maybe sounds a little bit Chicago? He hunches down to eat. His knuckles look more bruised than the bags under his eyes.

Jazz refills his coffee. He stares at her, but he doesn't move to spike it again. It's unsettling, but she thinks Miguel could probably take him if he needs to. Miguel's got a few inches and forty or fifty pounds on him, at least. Jazz doesn't think he'll do anything stupid, but it never hurts to be careful. Not when it's only her and Miguel this late. Early. Whatever. Miguel, who decides to step around the counter from the kitchen.

"Hey man, you some kind of boxer or something?"

"Me? No."

He's got the face for it, though. The healed up nose, the somewhat prominent ears the Yankees cap does nothing to hide.

"Long haul?"

"No, not that either." He finishes what's left of his coffee, and nods at the pot behind Jazz. "Just visiting a friend."

Miguel nods. This close to Dulles, it's mostly Nationals country. He reaches for the coffee pot to give the guy a refill before Jazz can.

"You in town long then?"

Jazz isn't sure why Miguel is out here, running what passes for his version of interference. He usually stays in the kitchen with his audiobooks. Or takes a nap in the office. It's why Jazz brings her sudoku with her.

"No."

"You want anything else, hon?" She's playing it up a bit, she knows, but this guy has got Miguel on edge too.

He smiles again. Maybe a little less forced. "No, that's alright."

Jazz doesn't buy it, but she picks up his plate and rings up the total for him at the register. And then she makes herself scarce.

It's only later, after the guy's gone off in the direction of the convenience store across the parking lot, the Miguel says anything.

"You can't save someone that doesn't want to be saved."

He shows her his bronze sobriety chip. Jazz nods, and puts on a fresh pot of coffee.

[popculturebuffet]

TMNT Month: Turtle Tunes and We Wish You A Turtles Christmas: Not So Erotic Nightmares Beyond Any Measure and Christmas Fever Dreams to Treasure Forever (Comission for Emma Fici)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to turtles month. Thanks to a schedule change, we're looking at another piece of weird turtles media coming as the franchise was loosing steam and someone was huffing that steam to try and come up with new ideas.

As a result we got two direct to vhs specials, designed to try to eat into that sweet sweet DTV market that was starting to really take off at the time and would do so long into my childhood and long after. These specials go for a younger audience, I suspect trying to get some of that barney money. They did not and we only got two and the world was spared the third that would've triggered the end times.

As you can see just looking at the covers for these things they had the budget of a paper clip and a piece of string, and it shows. The turtles have horrifying barley moving heads that insure they'll be your sleep paralysis demon for years to come. But beyond the terrible costumes what do these specails have? Well not a lot and everything respectively so let's talk about them, and hopefully make my night terrors worth the money under the cut

Turtle Tunes has an objectively weird premise. It's not a horrible one for doing some goofy less actiony videos as these costumes would tear apart if the wind blew on them slightly, I can't imagine them doing full on fight scenes like the movies, but it's still weird for the nonexistant budget this thing has.

So the turtles got a hookup from april to host their own show on channel 6 and were this just a tmnt version of waynes world i'd have watched this years ago. Also something to keep in mind for the mutant mayhem verse. Just saying.

But no their instead just counting down their faviorite songs.. and rather than say use the ones from out of our shells which are actually pretty good, or make some up they decide to do covers of various public domain songs and still present it like it's TRL. Do kids still know what TRL was? I.. I feel old.

Anyways, the Turtles rather than have April, who agreed to this in the first place, Splinter or Casey help out, instead have a bunch of random kids serve as their crew and boss them around. Also Mikey runs off and apparently does this all the time. Just goes to skateboard around the park and do mushrooms, living his best life.

As for the rest of the plot

This vid is just an excuse to do terrible covers of public domain songs.. and a loose one of Rick Springfield's don't talk to strangers. I'm dead serious. I mean the song IS a mild banger and using it for an actual anti stranger message and not Rick Springfield desperatly trying to stop his girlfriend from leaving him, but it's left as atonal garbage.

I don't have much for this one. I mean it has Leo on a rowboat as he slowly dies inside, that's kinda funny and it's weird they chose to do that one to yankee doodle dandy instead of row row row your boat, but I stand by their dumbass decision. At least Leo struggling to breath as he rows a boat is funny. Everything else is just bland: the turtles talk over each other, announce videos and somehow get renewed, though I think the renewal is really an excuse to get them out into the open and into a woodchipper.

Turtle Tunes proves, in the words of our prophet huey lewis, sometimes bad is bad. Sometimes cheese can be really funny, this is just 20 some minutes of my life I won't get back.

Thankfully We Wish You A Turtles Christmas, which emma and I watched before is so bad it's good. It's gloriosuly stupid, cheap and while still using music videos to pad things, is far more creative with them. This feels more like a tmnt product.. one that was written by a sentient mound of cocaine, but still a thing people put actually efort into at least feeling like a tmnt vide0 Turtles tunes could have any obnoxious mascot jammed in it. It could've been Busby Tunes... imagine him announcing videos and doing stuff and

Okay maybe it's thanks to saftey regulations we got the turtles, but still you could've also just.. put an opossum on screen to music. There's a line and a few layers of hell between TMNT and Bubsy

We Wish You A Turtles Christmas is the good kind of crack to Turtle Tunes shard of glass they tell you is crack, taking a straightforward tale of "the turtles forget to get a gift and have to go get it" and making it baffling as it is hilaroius.

So our story begins with We're the Turtles, the theme song for both tapes where their turtles and their on the look out for a friend in need that's what their about... and never actually find one too busy as they laugh and sing and do their thing their the turtles. Their the turtles. It's this weird durge that gets glued to your brain.

So it's christmas eve and the turtles are joking, putting presents under the tree while Leonardo sings Reggage, you know what everyone does every christmas. Or else.

Leo is horribly out of character in both these specials, taking being a stern big brother type who leads the team and tries to keep them on task and making him a dick who insults his brothers and also the mutant equilvent of Ras Trent.

As for the reggae song itself it's deck the halls but TO A REGGAE BEAT MON. CULTURAL APROPRATION POWER! It's the clear seperation from this special and turtle tunes; Turtle Tunes is KINDA weird, We Wish You A Turtles Christmas is FUCKING weird. You have a scooby dooby doo doo laden song about decking the halls that both is happy Bebeop and Rocksteady aren't here yet wishes a merry christmas to the shredder, while also having a beat drop for some reason. It's beautiful and I never want to hear it again.

The turtles then have a horrifying relization: WE FORGOT TO GET A GIFT FOR SPLINTER. I do like HOW this comes about as it's the only part of this special that's not written by a guy who was told the basics about the turtles then told to write a christmas special or they'd release the bees. The boys all thought one of the others had the duty: it's a sitcom cliche sure but one that would happen to a family.

So they have to go shopping on christmas eve with a rousing rendention of over the river and through the woods "up through the sewer"... or sleep inducing. Let's go with coma-tastic, sounds snappier.

We get to the surface for what's the best song of the special. A subterranian bar but it's the upbeat and peppy gotta get a gift for splinter. It has dancing, random children out on christmas eve busking, ryming gotta gift for splinter with "I hate shopping in the winter", and suggesting they get him a go cart "a go cart in the sewer baby!" while aruging. This sibling bantering and bickering at least is a little fun.

We then get to the most inexplicable part of this special.. and yes

As Mikey decides to sing opera. And this alone would be amazing just for the sheer what the fuckery.. but the turtles annoyed reactions and implication he does this a lot just sell it. The bit's dumb, but like this special it's also fun. No one not even the characters know why the fuck this is happeing.

After that our turtles return home to wrap they also decide.. TO RAP. Yes it's time for the Rap every bit of 90's childrens media thought they could do. It's as painfully awkward as you could hope for. Not as awkard as the rasta bit because it has a little bit of a beat but it sure does exist, i'll give it that.

So with that we get the climax as the turtles all get vauge gifts and give Splinter a 12 days of christmas themeed barrage of gifts while awkwardly sings about them. I do love how he looses pace towards the end and looses his space and his delighted "nailed it" when he catches up. Splinters singing is stiff as it's clear his actor cannot sing int he character voice, but I'll give him points for enthussim

So the gifts they got are

Twelve April O'Neil autographs

Eleven pairs of sneakers

Ten yellow yo-yos

Nine narrow neckties

Eight chopsticks

Seven silk kimonos

Six frisbees

Five video games

Four man-hole covers

Three skateboards

Two comic books

And a pizza with pepperoni

It's a bizzare assortment something you notice while listening but really looking at the lyrics, thanks turtlepedia for having those so I didn't have to listen to this song in full again to find em all, you see just how slapdash it is. It's in character but it dosen't make it any less bizzare as this list is not played for laughs. So we have 12 autographs from someone they know and likely got in a rush, elven pairs of sneakers which.. is honestly quite nice they found them in his size as while it's not his style of footwear i'm sure splinter would love some shoes after walking in the sewer barefoot for nearly two decades, ten yellow yo yos clearly from the dollar store, nine narrow neckties which while the specitfication weird is a classic parent ot child they don't know too well gift, eight chopsticks which is just.. .did you guys go for chinese and realize you missed a gift for your schitck, seven silk kimonos which is kind thougthful and a good gift, six frisbees because they went back to the dollar store, five video games all copies of the first NES game no one wanted, four man hole covers because theft is okay if it's christmas, three skateboards because splinter can shred man, two comic books which is just aweirdly low number and a pizza with pepperoni which is the most self serving as we all know Splitner prefers sushi.

Finally we have the title song.. which is eh. I don't have much to say its there for a moment, it's gone and they all rock out ending the special.

We Wish You A Turtles Christmas is something you have to experince at least once: it's baffling, stupid and hilarious and i'm glad to share it all with you. I encourage you to watch it.. and leave turtle tunes in a dumpster where you likely found it. Thanks for reading and remember i'm pullin for you, we're all in this together.

[swabian-princess]

Domestic engineer tales - daily cleaning routine

Hey girlies,

as we all know - I'm a proud domestic engineer (aka SAHGF) and while this life is very soft I still have responsibilities. One of them is cleaning.

I grew up with a mother that wasn't about cleaning all the time. Sure, the basics were always done but she wasn't bothered if some pet hair was on the couch or if the kitchen wasn't cleaned until the next day.

Well, my bf is the direct opposite. He hates dirt, dust, stains, pet hair and the list goes on. Basically - he wants our apartment to look like nobody lives there. He's a perfectionist and he can't relax if he suspects the apartment is not clean. That's when I enter the game - it's my task to tidy the apartment every day, so he can come home and simply relax.

I'm not going to lie - it was really rough in the beginning because it seems like this man can smell a faint stain on a towel ten miles away.

Realize that maintenance is key!

It took some time for me to realize this. Just trust me - it's way easier to clean just a little bit every day than to spend hours cleaning once a week.

1. vacuuming

My first step is always vacuuming the whole apartment. I need roughly 30-45 min to thoroughly vacuum the apartment. My holy grail tip is to invest in a wireless vacuum cleaner. It doesn't have to be the newest dyson! In fact, bf and I have three vacuum cleaners: two dysons, one of them wireless and one Phillips, and I absolutely prefer the Philipps one over both the dysons.

2. dusting

I hate dust. It makes my nose itch and my eyes water - so there is a strong no dust policy in my home! I just grab an good old swiffer and simply dust off all my counters and all the surfaces in the apartment.

3. disinfect

I blame the pandemic for my urge to disinfect everything. I love sagrotan cleaning wipes and I always buy them in bulk when they're on sale. I wipe down my kitchen counters and every other surface in the apartment. I've been doing this for a few months now and I don't see any damage on our furniture that could be caused by the wipes.

I also wipe down my bathrooms - my sink, the water taps and the complete toilet. I also spray down the toilet and my door handles with disinfectantspray for extra protection.

4. polishing

We have quite a few glass surfaces that need to be polished every day because they tend to get grease stains very easily. I take a microfiber towel and a cotton towel and spray those surfaces with a special glass cleaner, rub it in with the microfiber towel and dry with the cotton towel for a streak free finish.

5. couch vacuuming

It was not the best decision to get two white/grey coated cats with long and fine hair while still having a black couch. You. can. see. every. single. hair. I'm very happy that our Philipps vacuum comes with a special attachment for pet hair removal. I use it on both of our couches and the attachment works like a charm. No more hairs!

6. making sure it smells good

A good smelling apartment is mandatory for me because I believe that a good smelling apartment makes living way more enjoyable.

I make sure to clean the cats' litterboxes frequently - I try to scoop the litter out immediately after they finished their business. Nothing is worse than the smell of cat shit or piss and I know way to many people that have their whole apartment smell like their cats litterbox because they neglect cleaning it.

I also spritz our couch and our carpets down with some Febreeze golden orchid cushion cleaner. It smells heavenly and the smell stays for hours! It's also pet safe, so don't worry.

Last but not least - candles. I like to light some scented candles in different rooms of the apartment to make sure that it smells nice everywhere. My current favorites are the yankee candles in vanilla cupcake and sunny daydream!

It takes me around 3hours daily to finish cleaning the apartment and that's only maintenance.

I deep clean different rooms on different days during the week. My daily tasks also include loading and unloading the dish washer, doing laundry, cooking and cleaning the kitchen after cooking.

lots of love

Selene

[mistressdragonflame]

I am super slow at this

I printed and folded the signatures last night, then left them to be crushed overnight under my two bricks and four of my yankee candles.

Then after some weekend chores, and avoiding doing my essay that is due in 5 days, I started to stitch the signatures together in my lanai. (Enclosed porch, Hawaiian word for it.)

I used my makeshift cradle again, and made another key for the awl and went to stabbing. I went through several signature keys before I made one I liked. I am being SUPER paranoid making this, so being pretty cautious. I got into a rhythm of tapping the signature on the bottom (to align pages), and placing in the cradle, using the key to ensure firm placement against the rear wall of the cradle, then stabbing using the keys. I chose the bottom edge to square against, as I have small margins intentionally. These are hand cut 8.5x11 pages, meaning they have size differences and the edges do not match up, despite the best of intentions. So I know I'll need to trim the margins after its sewn together, and I'd rather trim excess from the top than the bottom, where the page number would make it seem smaller.

Stabbing went pretty well, and then I took a break to figure out how to sew the cords. I scrounged youtube and reddit for tricks, and then went to my craftroom to see if I had something to make sewing frame. I was in luck! I had a small metal shelf where my yarn was, and it looked like it'd work just fine for a sewing frame.

I measured out some twine for each of the four cord spots, and began to stitch it carefully on.

If you can see the error in the above picture, you're better than me. Only after I fully stitched it on did I realize the signature was right side up--when it need to be right side down. So I removed the thread, flipped, and tried again. I did not etch the signatures for the cord, I think it's small enough to not really be much of an issue. But I'm new at this, sooooo we'll find out.

I took a break when the setting sun starting bearing down on me as I sat on the lanai, as I had skin cancer once already and don't want it again. Once night fell and I started again, and by dinner I had gotten... uh...

Five. Five stitched signatures. So I ate some dinner, and trucked back.

I got maybe half of the signatures, if a little less. IN MY DEFENSE, I am being super careful, paused several times to fiddle with something or other, and I did mess up a few times (missing stitches) that caused me to backtrack, but I've gotten into a rhythm now. I brought my things inside, as I don't want them exposed to the humidity of the outside air overnight.

I'll start up again in the morning, and finish off the booklet. Then... well, I can't do anything else for now besides getting Vol. IIa to the same point.

I plan on casing in the leather book covers, but the leather hasn't arrived yet and neither has the heat transfer vinyl for the cover, which I haven't ordered. The latter I'm waiting to order to see how my tester HTV comes in, which should arrive on Thursday. I tried out the Cricut my friend had, but unfortunately the machine would not work for me. She had never used it, and it had come used from her mother, so IDK what the issue was, it just wouldn't recognize the tester paper I had on it. Unfortunate, as it'd save the eternally long shipping time that the Islands always have (for example, I bought/shipped the leather over two weeks ago, and it's floating somewhere on the mainland and expected by the 5th).

So holding pattern, I suppose.

Till next time!

[screechingsandwichhologram]

my amrev ocs if they had tumblr

🌓 dressedsword

HOLY SHIT PAUL REVERE JUST RODE THROUGH TOWN HOLY FUCK ITS HAPPENING

🪁 kiterrrrr Follow

why r you blogging and not fighting. fake ass

🌓 dressedsword

bitch i'm a fucking woman. can't exactly pull up to fort william and mary in stays now can i

🐴 pennsylvaniarifle Follow

not if ur coward

35 notes

🐏 tumblefarmer

man we kicked their fucking assesss let's goooo !!! first fight of rebellion woooo !!!

👒 spindledpoet

..... i'm glad you made it back home but not sure we should be celebrating the beginning of what certainly will become a war

🌓 dressedsword

john shut the fuck up ur just salty sam trampled ur flowers on his way out of the house

5 notes

🌺 massalilly Follow

FIRST SHOTS FIRED IN LEXINGTON AND CONCORD HOLY SHIT

🐏 tumblefarmer

WHAT THE FUCK MASSHOLES RUIN EVERYTHING

17,756 notes

👒 spindledpoet

hey guys is coughing up blood normal

💦 pantingmanthing Follow

NO???

👒 spindledpoet

damn

12 notes

👣 sandyfootprints Follow

god war fucking sucks. first day on the job and im spitting out some dudes blood. he probably had a wife. cant even drink bc they told us not to

❣ crimsonfingerlicking

yummy

👣 sandyfootprints Follow

why am i on tumblr

67 notes

🐏 tumblefarmer

guys. i really really really wanna join the war. is that a good idea. my cousin is ill and his sister is unmarried but i cant just stand by. i cant leave them but i must fight for my homeland and for the freedom my ancestors were promised

🫡 kissingcontinental Follow

join us we need men so so bad plsss

🪶 writerlover Follow

fight to build a better tomorrow for your family

🐏 tumblefarmer

okay im doing it!!! going down to mass this weekend

23 notes

🌓 dressedsword

hey so like. is. is. do we think that. maybe in the new country we could like. idk . maybe uhhh. give women rights?

1 note

🐏 tumblefarmer

guys war sucks ass its so fucking boring im just sitting in camp. a guy just fucking sneezed in my food. i hate it here

🌹rosedlionheart Follow

thats what you yankees get for picking a fight with the strongest army in the world

🐏 tumblefarmer

doesnt ur king piss blue

784 notes

🫶 letteredolley Follow

damn my fav dress maker is too sick to make me a new dress :// fuck my life

🐓 kickerchicker Follow

girl we are in the middle of a war that is Not the thing to worry about

💋 marieantoinette Follow

god forbid women do anything

🥖 lalanterne Follow

wrong dash. ur time will come

1,789 notes

🕯️carpediemcandled Follow

aw fuck the cute boy that was stationed near me just fucking died from camp fever </3

🕯️ carpediemcandled Follow

he was so cute too :// a french canadian farmer from new hampshire that was like. super into sheep and goats. he was super clumsy too. but like in a cute way

🕯️ carpediemcandled Follow

aughhhh :((( i was going to bring him one of my nice candles :(((

10 notes

🌓 dressedsword

FUCK

0 notes

👒 spindledpoet

yknow that feeling you get when you look at your reflection and you feel like you are going to throw up

🙏 universalfriend Follow

yes

👒 spindledpoet

thanks

7 notes

❣️crimsonfingerlicking

is there.... money? in war

🦁 redbloodedredcoat Follow

dm me

2 notes

🦋 painfulpoet Follow

@ spindledpoet are you , okay??

👒 spindledpoet

i have a horrible thing inside me that i understand now but i can not continue. i am dying.

👒 spindledpoet

please do not let them forget that i was among you

9 notes

👒 spindledpoet

i am making a dress. i must finish it. it will be the best yet. it will be my last one. delphine needs the dress. she needs the dress. i need the dress

1 notes

🦋 painfulpoet Follow

@ dressedsword hey is ur brother okay?

🌓 dressedsword

he is very ill and delirious often. our cousin has died in the war. i have little means of supporting us and he is too sick to leave the bed. when he is aware he cries and writes. his handwriting has spoiled

🌓 dressedsword

he is not for long. he will be gone before any letter or parcel of yours will travel the atlantic. i am sorry

4 notes

👒 spindledpoet

i don't want to hurt my sister but delphine is waiting for me

0 notes

🌓 dressedsword

gonna log off for a bit

1 notes

🌗 designedpamphlet Follow

shit. i'm fucking doing this

0 notes