#bought another $50 pin for my collection

[cursed-angelic-art]

Fuck bingqiu actually. These boys are costing me sm money 😭😭😭😭😭

[secretmagicalgiftswap]

Rules & FAQ

FAQ (Scroll down for rules)

How does the exchange work?

When joining, you will be assigned another participant to be your Giftee(you will send them a gift) and you will be assigned to another participant to be your Gifter(they will send you a gift). Your Giftee may or may not be the same person as your Gifter. 2-3 days after the sign up deadline you will receive your Giftee’s username, mailing address and wishlist, and the goal is for you to create a personalised gift package for them based on their wishlist. This can be something bought, handmade, or a blend of both! You will also receive a gift in return, either from your Giftee or another participant.

How do we join?

At the start of each swap, a link will be posted to the Sign-Up form for that quarter. The link will be pinned in the top post.

Who can participate?

Anyone over the age of 18 who is willing to give out a mailing address OR if you are 16 years old or older with parental permission. This event is international and you can participate from any country.

Do I have to give out my address?

This is a postal exchange game, so yes, however, if you don’t want to give out your personal address, you could look into an alternative address option that your post office may or may not have, for example, a PO box. Some of these options may charge a fee to keep your post or deliver it to you which we do not cover for you. Some of these options will deliver your mail while others will hold it for you until you collect it yourself. Below are some home address and PO box alternatives available in various countries: PostDrop in the UK Address Point in Ireland Europe Mailbox in Germany, Czechia and Poland Poste Restante in France(This list may be updated when services for other countries are found/suggested)

Who will my address be given to?

Your address will only be given from us to your Gifter.

Can I contact my Giftee?

Please only contact your Giftee with further questions about their wishlist or gift. You can do this via anonymous ask(keep it secret!) or by sending us a message to relay on to them. (Note: in the past some people sent anons to their Giftees throughout the swap to send them well wishes and brighten their day. You can do this, but please check your Giftee's blog to make sure they allow anons)

How will I know what my Giftee wants?

You will receive their name, mailing address, wishlist, if they have any allergies or not, and some more information based on the sign-up form answers. We will copy and paste the answers as your Giftee typed them and we will not paraphrase anything or add any information not given to us by the Giftee themselves.

How much does it cost?

It costs nothing to join the swap. The only money on this game should be done on the gift and the shipping costs. However, as we don’t want an imbalance in gift value leading to some people receiving one small thing and others a box of 50 things, and due to various countries’ customs charges, we ask that the overall value of your gift totals to at least $20 and no more than $40-50 (euro, dollars, pounds etc. - this is a rough number and it’s okay if it goes a bit above, or if it is a bit below) We do not ask for payment to join as we are operating from a free tumblr blog and on Discord and thus don’t even have a domain to pay for. However, if you enjoy the swap and would like to leave a small tip feel free to buy me a coffee which I will put towards covering extra gifts and continuing to let the Secret Magical Gift Swap grow by saving for a domain and create an overall better quality event. With that said, this ko-fi link is the only way to support the Swap financially and we will never send you any other link.

I’ve joined the Swap but I can no longer participate. What will happen now?

Just contact me as soon as possible, and I will try to arrange someone else to send your Giftee a gift.

I have more questions! How do I contact you?

Currently, I am the sole organizer of the Swap, so if you need to contact me urgently, you can message me at my Tumblr blog, @fernsinthemist.

You can also ask us questions on Discord or send an ask here on the SMGS blog. After signing up you will receive an e-mail from us and you can respond to that e-mail address with further questions too.

THE RULES OF THE EXCHANGE

You must be willing to give your name and address for this event. That information will be given only to the hosts and to your Gifter. The hosts are not responsible for anything that may happen after this. If you are unsure of giving out your mailing address please see the alternative mailing options above.

DO NOT give away your Giftee's information, whether it's their name or address, that information is only given to you to use for POSTING GIFTS.

Your sign-up application can be rejected, if we suspect you are not going to be respectful or participate fairly and if we suspect you will not actually post out a gift.

Do not send illegal items or anything that is banned or not allowed to be sent from your country, and don’t send discriminatory or derogatory items.

Be respectful and kind to your fellow participants. We all come from all walks of life and this event is no place to discriminate against people of any race, gender, sexuality, religion, country, age, and so on. Respect your Giftee’s pronouns, identity and practice.

There is no guarantee that you will receive a gift if there are delays or issues with your package, however, if you do not receive your gift there are usually a few participants willing to send an extra gift to those who don’t receive them, so if you let us know that nothing has arrived we will ask them to send you a gift!

You must provide a tracking number to give to your Giftee so that they can track their package.

Don’t give away who you are just yet! When your Giftee has received your package feel free to reveal yourself to them if you haven’t left your username in the package!

[futurescape]

I just got home from an AMAZING weekend in DC and wanted to share my Bastille experience before passing out for like two days (I think I got max 5 hours of sleep the entire weekend). One of my best friends flew in from NYC and we spent all of Saturday just exploring, then Sunday we got in line in front of Anthem at around 10:30am. I was #21 in line according to the number drawn on my hand by this awesome girl Sarah I met who was #2. She wrote numbers on the first 50 people’s hands which really came in handy later on. Shout out to Anthem event staff for having tables set up outside with free water. At around noon I turned around and spotted Kyle, Dan, Woody, Charlie and Beau power walking by towards the loading dock for the tourist ferry and a couple of us walked over to see if we could catch them. Dan took a photo with a woman who had a kid in a stroller, and then he grabbed his food and drink and was heading back towards the ferry entrance and I said hello to him. He actually made a beeline right for me and said hello back and asked me how I was doing. I wanted to ask for a photo but Beau told us they were already late for the ferry but that they would come back, which was a lie because they did not come back lmao. After 2 hours of checking the pier every so often we decided they got dropped off somewhere else since the line out front of the venue was growing.

I did the GMTF experience, so at around 2:40ish two ladies came out with the lanyards and some collectible pins and checked us all in. There were a surprising amount of people who bought the experience and the soundcheck + Q&A was only an hour long so sadly the question I submitted didn’t get asked. There were some really funny ones though that I’ll post individually. Our soundcheck songs were Blame, Grip and Club 57. When the experience was over there was some drama with the line outside, since the event staff that had witnessed us all getting numbers written on our hands in the morning had selective amnesia. We ended up taking matters into our own hands because those of us who’d shown up in the morning all became friends, and no one was monitoring the line outside so we all got in with the GA people since the ones who’d shown up early in that line got numbered too. All in all, when we were let back in later I ended up one row back from the barrier which was perfect. The show was absolutely AMAZING, and it was so good to be at a live show again for the first time since the pandemic started.

After the show, I followed some new friends I’d made out to the alley next to the venue that was gated off. The buses were parked on the other side of the alley to the right, but one of the people I’d met said that the last time they played at Anthem the spot we were standing at was the spot they’d come out to take a group photo so we waited around. Not even 3 minutes after we’d sat down, here comes Dan still sweaty from the show and wearing a different shirt with ANOTHER shirt clutched in his hand. He looked like he was on a mission, so we just said hello to him and he said hello back without stopping. He turned right and headed down the main Wharf walkway BY HIMSELF AT NIGHT. Five minutes later, here comes Dick who kept stopping to look at his phone and was sending texts - probably trying to figure out where tf Dan went. Dick eventually went back in the direction he’d come from and then maybe 20-30 minutes later we see Dan walking the other way down the Wharf walkway wearing yet another shirt. Leave it to Dan to get temporarily lost in DC at night by himself. We all waited outside for a few hours, but then realized the tour bus had left so we called it a night and headed back to the hotel. All in all, it was a great experience and I met SO many awesome people while in line. Bastille fans are the best, hands down.

[mimicofmodes]

☕️historybounding

+ My only exposure to the term was a while ago, as an analogue to Disneybounding (where people wear "normal" clothes that resemble a Disney character's costume but with enough plausible deniability to be allowed in a Disney park), so I've thought of it as wearing, like, a vest that hints at the styling of stays while still being plausibly-deniable modern clothing or working a historical piece into an otherwise modern outfit. But it seems like now it means just straight up wearing historic clothing in real life? Cool!

+ I might count, not sure? I wear 1940s/50s clothes to work every day, and usually on the weekends in the summer as well. Some of them I've made, some I've bought, usually from Unique Vintage. I'm a bit picky, because I do want them to be more historically accurate, which generally means frumpier - the repro shops seem to cater more to the pin-up style and/or "I just want a dress for going out in" taste, which means a lot of really deep necklines and skirts that are a bit too short for the period.

+ I would love to go even more historical with it, but there is a certain level of practicality I need to adhere to - as a collections manager, I have to carry art, push carts and A-frames, climb around in the dust, etc. But also, I'm still scarred from the whole Sarah Chrisman Vulture article debacle and would be very nervous about people assuming I'm looking down on them for having modern values.

+ All my kudos to people who wear their Viking garb out and about, or who do the Zach Pinsent thing! In another timeline, that's me.

[hilli98215]

I posted 12,794 times in 2021

862 posts created (7%)

11932 posts reblogged (93%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 13.8 posts.

I added 758 tags in 2021

#live blogging - 166 posts

#personal - 140 posts

#disney - 110 posts

#into the woods - 55 posts

#fandom - 51 posts

#musicals - 50 posts

#cats the musical - 49 posts

#kingdom hearts - 47 posts

#starlight express - 46 posts

#random - 44 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#as a teacher i hate it when i hear studebts talk about how they got punishment for bad grades when they try so hard to get good ones

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

One doesn't know how much materials a teacher has until they have to move from a classroom to a house.

Not only is it very depressing, it is also crazy at how much a teacher use their own money on materials, treasure box items, cleaning products, art materials, birthday materials, materials for holidays, posters, and more.

How does one dare to organize all these materials?

54 notes • Posted 2021-11-26 16:10:47 GMT

#4

And now an updated picture of all the musicals I have on CD. What should I get next?

57 notes • Posted 2021-06-29 01:35:36 GMT

#3

Alright. So today I went with my sister and her friend to Disney Springs to get some 50th anniversary merchandise (which I did) but I also had another goal in mind. Last time I went to Disney I saw some Kingdom Hearts merchandise in the D-Tech shop and I got a magnet. I also mentioned that they have Kingdom Hearts magic bands.

So guess what I got! I have an official Disney Parks Sora magic band! I could have gotten this customized with my name on it but that would have covered the design.

I also got the other magnet it saw the last time I was there. And this time Kairi and Riku are on it.

Now I did see something the surprised me so much that I almost bought them. Disney (and most places) sell pins. In Disney Springs, there's a store that specifically sells pins from all the parks, resorts, attractions, shows, film, and animation.

But guess what I saw! I saw not 1 but 2 Kingdom Hearts pins with the official Disney Parks logo and Disney Collection logo! I feel bad that I didn't get them but I quickly took a photo for everyone to see.

Now this sudden influx of merchandise at the parks could be because of it being Kingdom Hearts 20th anniversary next year but as a fan of the series and a self proclaimed Disney fanatic, this is huge amazing, and overall really cool.

Never would I have thought that this video game series would be represented at Disney in 2021. NEVER.

Let's just hope it keeps going cause I know a lot of fans would love it!

@roxycake @storyweaverofgondor

this is real omg!

128 notes • Posted 2021-10-10 00:17:03 GMT

#2

So this has happened. Stephen Sondheim is one of the first names one thinks of when it comes to musical theater. He wrote many of the great musicals such as Gypsy, Company, A Little Night Music, and Sweeny Todd.

It was really hard to find an article that thoroughly talks about Sonheims career without it being limited to a paragraph. PLAYBILL's article gives everyone the need to fully understand the scope, influence, and how his music and stories shaped musical theater, pop culture, and art.

162 notes • Posted 2021-11-26 22:25:26 GMT

#1

This is so precious, I swear! 😭

263 notes • Posted 2021-10-21 23:05:18 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[bgyulix]

— just another edgy teen rom com

-> pairing: min yoongi x reader

-> genre: bad boy!au, high school!au, slightly inspired by the end of the f***ing world

-> tags/warnings: domestic abuse, child abuse, underage drinking, implications of drug use, also they smoke some weed but only a little, smut in future chapters, suicidal thoughts, despite all these its rather soft and yoongi is whipped

-> word count: 2,896

-> summary: min yoongi is typically someone you’d avoid, and definitely not someone you’d want to run away from home with. OR: having an existential crisis together on a bus stop bench in the middle of the night was not exactly the meet-cute you’d always dreamed of.

-> a/n: here it is!! i hope you guys like it, and if you want to be on the tag list just ask! im thinking there’ll be three parts, but there might end up being four, we’ll see lmao

-> chapter: 1 | 2 | 3

You’d been hit one too many times that night. It was inevitable that it would happen eventually; that a perfectly angled slap or shove against the wall would knock something loose, and you’d end up lying on a bus stop bench like a homeless person letting your wounds fester in traffic fumes.

The cold metal of the dirty bench bit into your thighs and the part of your shoulders where your jacket had ridden down. It registered somewhere in the back of your mind that you could just adjust your jacket and maybe shimmy your shorts down a bit, but you ignored it. You were perfectly happy lying here freezing to death.

Somebody had stuck some gum in the corner of the roof. Maybe you should take it and chew it and get a disease or something. That might be interesting.

Two buses came and went. The night grew longer, and colder. Less and less cars went past. Your shitty little neighbourhood had never been the busiest, and eventually the streets fell quiet and empty, with only the sounds of traffic in the distance and a moth buzzing around a streetlight to keep you company.

The pain of the cut on your lip and your black eye dulled down to a steady throb. It almost felt separate from you, the part of you that cared and the part of you that didn’t two different people arguing with each other while you listened in.

You heard footsteps, trudging up the street through sludgy puddles. They reached the bus stop and hesitated, like everybody else had when they saw your depressed beat up ass suntanning in the dinky fluorescent light. The part of you that didn’t care won out yet again and you didn’t even bother to look up.

They came and sat at the other end of the bench, by your head. You could see a tuft of shaggy bleach blonde hair in your peripheral vision. They shifted and grunted, their voice surprisingly deep. A sigh, and then they simply sat next to you in silence, and you absently wondered if they were waiting for a bus, or if they were going to mug you, or if they were having as bad of a day as you were.

“Rough night?”

You finally managed to move, arching your neck and looking at them upside down. It was a guy, maybe your age, with a nasty scrape on his cheekbone, in a camo jacket smirking around a split lip. He looked vaguely familiar, like you’d seen him around before.

Stranger danger! the little voice in your head that was still sane yelled at you. You ignored it.

“Yep,” you said.

“Yeah,” the guy muttered, “me too.”

He thumbed at his lip. It was bleeding a little.

“What happened to your face?” he asked.

“I got punched, I guess. What happened to yours?”

He snorted. “I got punched, I guess.”

“Welcome to the club, then.”

You settled back down, staring at the roof again. Your butt hurt.

“So, what brings you to my bus stop?” he said, his voice smug. You prickled at his tone.

“Your bus stop? This is my bus stop.”

“Nope, sorry. Definitely mine.”

“I was here first!”

“I’ve been having mental breakdowns here long before you have, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, sitting up to glare at him, your cold, tired bones groaning in protest. You noticed now the bruises on his knuckles, and the dirt stains - or what you hoped were dirt stains - on his shirt. His eyes were dark and catlike, watching you intently with something like amusement.

“I am not…” you grumbled, feeling suddenly pinned down by his gaze, “I am not having a mental breakdown.”

He quirked a brow.

“You’re lying in a bus stop in the middle of the night.”

“And you’re sitting in a bus stop in the middle of the night. You can’t talk.”

He chuckled, pointing at you. “Touché.”

A car went past. You sat side by side, hyper aware of his presence and the way his choppy blond bangs fell across his face and the way he was twisting the ring on his finger in his lap.

“You come here often then?” you said, casually.

“Occasionally,” he replied, casually. Just like you were talking about the weather. “Yourself?”

“Nah. I was just walking past, thought I might go somewhere.”

“But… you didn’t?”

“Don’t have the guts, I guess.”

“I get it,” he rasped, nodding sagely, “I always come here thinking I’ll get on the bus, and then I don’t.”

He pursed his lips, looking away from your face and to the road, glistening with dew and oil slick and hazy streetlights.

“Where would you go?” you murmured.

He shrugged.

“Haven’t really thought about it. Just…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the street. “Away.”

Away. The dream of away was a fantasy, had always been a fantasy. One you consistently came back to after every fight, every hit, every curse. You rub at your eye, wincing when it stung. You wonder who hit him.

“Yeah,” you said. “Away.”

He sniffed, scratched his nose. Suddenly he shifted, straightening his back and his shoulders and puffing out his chest a little, any hint of vulnerability gone and replaced with smug cockiness.

“So you gonna tell me your name?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes at his obvious display.

“___,” you told him.

“Yoongi.”

Your eyes widened. So that’s how you recognised him. “Like Min Yoongi? The drug dealer?”

He scoffed. “I am not a drug dealer.”

You raised your brow the same way he had at you.

“I am not a drug dealer… during school hours,” he clarified. You snorted.

“Anyway, how would you know unless you’ve bought off me, huh?”

“We go to the same school. You’re a consistent source of locker room gossip. Everyone's scared of you.”

Min Yoongi rode a motorcycle and smoked under the bleachers and once told a teacher to fuck off. Min Yoongi could set you up with anything if you were willing to pay. Min Yoongi ran with gangs. Min Yoongi had fucked his way through practically the entire school. You either hated him, wanted him, or were scared of him. The rumours and chatter surrounding him was endless, and he did nothing to discourage it, getting into fights and into detention, showing up to every house party with arms full of weed and leaving one too many hickies on a girl’s neck.

And here he was in front of you, staring at his boots and shaking his head almost bashfully, you dare say.

“You don’t look so scared,” he huffed. You shrugged.

“I’m having a bad day.”

“Yeah, no shit. You look terrible.”

“Hey!” you cried indignantly, “speak for yourself, asshole!”

He laughed then, a deep, carefree rumble from deep in his chest. Your lips rose on their own accord, and you had to fight to keep the smile down.

He didn’t seem so scary. Apart from the blood, of course.

“You wanna get a milkshake?” he asked abruptly.

“A milkshake?”

“Yeah. I know a place that stays open late, not far from here.”

“Oh. Uh… yeah, okay. Yeah, that sounds nice.”

The place he led you to was a small, rundown building next to a service station, trash littering the footpath out in front, with a guy leaning against the wall puking on his shoes.

JO’S DINER, screamed the flickering neon sign. OPEN LATE!

You screwed up your nose and hesitated, eyeing the guy warily.

“That’s just Heegun,” Yoongi said, nudging you, “‘sup, Heegun!”

Heegun raised a hand, before he doubled over and continued to hack his guts up.

Yoongi barrelled through the door, gesturing for you to follow. You hurried in after him, giving Heegun a wide berth.

The inside of the diner was vintage 50’s style, with a checkered floor and red vinyl chairs, and records and pictures of old cars hanging on the walls. It smelt of motor oil and fries, and scratchy music was playing through the speakers. One of the lightbulbs above the counter was out, leaving a weird dark spot, and there was a puddle of… something collecting in a spot where the floor dipped. The waitress at the counter was chewing gum and scrolling through her phone, her classic white apron covered in grease stains.

“Jisoo,” Yoongi drawled, sidling up to the counter. Jisoo, an older woman with extremely thin, overdrawn eyebrows, sighed heavily.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. She had lipstick on her teeth.

“It’s me! How’s it going?”

Jisoo raised one of her fake eyebrows, very, very slowly.

“You two look like shit.”

“Yes, we know. Thank you. Could we get two milkshakes, if you please? ___, what flavour you want?”

You started. “Oh, uh, just chocolate.”

“Two chocolate milkshakes. And a large curly fries, I’m fucking hungry.”

Jisoo marked it down on a little notepad, and somehow even made that sarcastic.

“Sir, yes sir,” she grumbled, and pulled out her gum and stuck it behind her ear, “take a seat.”

Yoongi sat you down in a little booth by the window and slid in opposite you. The table was covered in crumbs and the vinyl stuck to your bare legs.

“You‘re a regular?” you asked.

“Well, they know me by name,” Yoongi replied. He leant back and rested his arm up on the top of his seat, a dark blot against the garishly bright diner, somehow more intimidating in decent lighting than he had been in the dark. It finally hit you; you were in a shitty restaurant with Min Yoongi. You were having milkshakes and curly fries with Min Yoongi.

Why not, you supposed, it’s not like your life wasn’t already a disaster. You put your elbows on the table, the crumbs digging into your skin. You didn’t have the energy to be disgusted.

“So…” you began, and then came up blank.

“So…?” Yoongi urged.

“Uh… how much were the milkshakes? Because I have like…” you fished around in your pocket, “two dollars. And five cents.”

He chuckled again, rich and gruff, and you swear you felt it in your bones.

“Relax, it’s on me. Like you said, you’re having a bad day.”

“And you’re not?”

He shrugged. “Eh. I’m used to it.”

“That’s not a good thing,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. He smirked.

“That’s life, doll.”

Life, indeed.

“So…” you said again.

“So…?” Yoongi urged, again.

“Is this what you do for fun? Come to…” you lowered your voice, just so Jisoo wouldn’t hear, “come to shitty diners in the middle of the night?”

He seemed amused, his smirk growing a little wider and his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah. This is all I do. Just this, nothing else,” he teased.

“Well, what do you do then? Other than this. And drugs.”

He leaned forwards conspiratorially and cupped his hand around his mouth, like he was about to deliver a secret, and you found yourself leaning into him.

He opened his mouth and whispered, “sell drugs.”

You scoffed and sat back, brushing the crumbs off your elbow.

“Right, of course. Typical.”

Jisoo appeared, a cigarette hanging from her lips, balancing a tray with two milkshakes and a basket of curly fries on her hip. She brought it down on the table hard enough to make both milkshakes spill over the sides of the glass.

“There, you little shits,” she grated, her voice like sandpaper.

“Thanks, Jisoo,” said Yoongi, going straight for the fries. “Heegun’s throwing up out the front again, by the way.”

“WHAT?” Jisoo roared. You flinched. She stormed across the diner, her thunderous footsteps making the table rattle, and swung the door open with so much force it was a miracle it didn’t come flying off its hinges. “FOR FUCK’S SAKE, HEEGUN, YOU DICK, THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK!”

Yoongi chuckled at your shell shocked expression. “She’s a real piece of work, huh?”

You nodded mutely, and hid the way your hands shook by grasping your milkshake and bringing the straw to your lips. It was pretty good, all things considered.

The second the food hit your stomach, it rumbled audibly, and your head went light and frantic. You reached for the curly fries and shovelled the greasy things into your mouth like a starved man.

“When was the last time you ate?” Yoongi asked, eyeing you cautiously. You shrugged, which was a lie. You knew exactly when the last time you ate was; last night at 10:24 pm, sitting across from your father, listening to him rant about how much he hated his job. People yelling at mealtimes seemed to be a trend.

You both ate in silence for a moment, the sounds of Jisoo shooing Heegun away and an overhyped pop song in the background.

“We go to the same school, then?” Yoongi said, with a mouthful of food. You wrinkled your nose at him.

“We do. Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s gross.”

He snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”

You elected to ignore him. “We have literature together.”

“Literature, huh? I’ve never noticed you before.”

“I try not to be noticed.”

“You some kind of social recluse or something?” said Yoongi, raising a brow.

“No, I just don’t like making a scene, unlike some people,” you told him. “Beside, I sit up the back, and Mr. Ahn makes you sit up the front, so.”

“Huh,” he hummed, tapping his ring against his glass. Jisoo came back inside muttering under her breath, huffing cigarette smoke everywhere. “It seems like you know plenty about me, but I know nothing about you.”

“Not much to know. I’m not nearly as interesting as you.”

“Oh, you think I’m interesting?” he drawled, smirking.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you’re always up to something.”

“What are you up to?” he asked, jabbing a finger at you.

“Me? Not much.”

“Aw, c’mon. You got no friends, no hobbies? Nothing?”

He was watching you in that peculiar way again, like you’d just said something funny but he couldn’t quite understand the joke. He looked… interested.

“Why do you care?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

Yoongi put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Pardon me if I wanna know a bit more about the random chic I found at my bus stop,” he exclaimed indignantly, gazing dangerously at you from under his bangs. You faltered and your cheeks heated, and he gave an amused little huff.

“Um… well…” you stammered, and sipped your milkshake to compose yourself. “I, uh… I like music.”

“Music, huh? What kind?”

“Uh… any kind, if it’s good.”

“You’re really not giving me much to work with here.”

“I’m… I’m in a choir?” you offered.

“Oh, you’re a choir girl,” Yoongi said, “that’s cute.”

You scoffed. “Cute? Excuse me, that shit is hard. Do you know how to tone deaf 70-year-old people are? Extremely. Painfully. And they pinch your cheeks after they subject you to their dying cat noises! Choir takes a lot of effort, thank you!”

Yoongi laughed and grinned, so boyishly that for a moment he almost looked like a different person.

“I’m more into rap myself.”

“You rap?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you any good?”

“Well, that’s - that depends.”

You snorted.

“Huh. I didn’t know you rapped,” you said.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Yoongi told you, and wiggled his eyebrows at you. You choked on a fry with laughter.

“Ooh, mysterious. Let me guess, let me guess - you’re addicted to anime. No, no! You cry at cat videos.”

“I do not,” Yoongi grumbled, “I have not once - not once - cried at a cat video.”

“Bullshit, you have too. I can see it in your eyes.”

Jisoo, from her place back at the counter, coughed loudly and pointedly in your direction, and you realised you’d been raising your voice. You lowered yourself back into your seat sheepishly.

Yoongi was still smiling, shaking his head in amusement. He was handsome, you thought. You’d never quite understood why girls threw themselves at him despite knowing the extent of his shady business practices, but you understood now; his mouth was soft and his jaw was sharp and his aura, while commandeering and a little intimidating, was relaxed and calm and familiar. You were having the strangest urge to reach over the table and brush his hair from his face, or maybe tap his nose.

He was… oh, he was cute.

He was smirking at you again. You were staring. Fuck. You looked down at your milkshake.

“You’re cute,” he said, and the milkshake went down the wrong way.

“What?” you spluttered uselessly.

“You’re cute. I can’t believe we’ve never met before.”

“Well…” you began, pausing to collect yourself, “...we have now.”

He grinned. You grinned back.

Yoongi walked you back to the bus stop, and when he asked you if you wanted him to walk you home, too, you refused.

“You homeless?”

“Just for tonight.”

He didn’t push.

When the sun rose, and you finally slunk back home like a dog with its tail between its legs, your father rushed forwards and drew you into his arms and cried apologies into your shoulder, like he always did.

I’m so sorry, ___. I didn’t mean it. It’ll never happen again, I promise.

He even bought you pizza for dinner - but then he got drunk, and then he did it again. Like he always did.

[nanasarea]

V

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵: In a world where soulmates can visit each other in their dreams and can only remember the dreams once they found each other, what happens when you’re disappointed at the man of your dreams?

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: angst and fluff 

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: reader x jaemin

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.5k

𝘢/𝘯: what is meant to be is meant to be, guys 🤷‍♀️

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵  𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵  𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Tag list: @keiboo​ @minavenue

I  II  III  IV  V  VI

“I really like your earrings by the way.” Jeno commented, leaning in to see them better, but I just brushed my hair in front of my ear and said thanks, but I’m insecure about my ears in hopes of hiding the mark from him.

“Oh, where was I, um, yeah my friends wanted some group costumes, but in the end, Jisung decided to go as Sponge-bob with his cousin as Patrick, Haechan decided to be someone from his favourite video game and Renjun is currently choosing between like 45 costumes, so in short, we were gonna go as a group costume, I even bought the costume, but I guess I’ll just wear that next time.” I laughed, regretting the amount of money I spent on it, but also not caring too much, as I did really like it and was 100% going to wear it casually at home.

“So, I have no idea what I’m going as. And you?” I asked, taking a sip from my coffee and waiting for him to respond.

“I don’t know for sure yet, possibly Ash? My friends’ thought of going as Brock and Misty so I might be Ash, but I was also thinking of going as Luke Skywalker.” He answered. “But I’ll let you in on a secret, I’m kinda leaning towards being Ash.” He leaned in and whispered, winking at the end of his sentence and taking a long sip from his coffee before leaning back onto the seat.

“And you just let me know that?” I asked, dramatically gasping, to which he just winked again, causing my face to heat up.

Was I just kidding myself by indirectly flirting with Jeno, the guy I wished was my soulmate, when I in fact knew who my soulmate was? Maybe, but in my defence, I was still in denial, besides, some harmless flirting won’t hurt anyone, right? And before you say anything, no, it won’t hurt me, I know when not to catch feelings.

“I think a Pokemon costume would fit you well, possibly because I think they’re cute and you’re  cute, y’know?” He asked, smiling at me as I hid my smile behind my cup.

Okay, maybe I don’t know when not to catch feelings.

Once my so-called date with Jeno ended, I headed back to the dorms to get my things before heading to class. At the dorm, I was greeted by Renjun searching for something. “What you looking for?” I asked, hoping to help.

“My will to live.” he replied, turning around, smiling and adding “Nevermind, found it”, which made me put a hand on my chest in awe while mouthing “me?”. He nodded and continued searching.

“No, seriously, what are you looking for?” I asked, collecting my stuff and stuffing them into my bag, when suddenly I heard a scream.

“Who’s getting murdered?” Haechan asked, rushing into the room with worry. “My ears.” I said, holding my hands over them lightly. “My heart.” Renjun explained, turning around and showing us what he was looking for.

“Look! I found my 50 shades of grey costume that I made last halloween!” He yelled in excitement, causing both me and Haechan to let out a sigh of relief, followed by a laugh. “Don’t scare me like that!” Haechan yelled, throwing a pillow at Renjun.

“Anyway, ready to head to the lecture hall?” Haechan asked. Renjun and I both nodded as he put the costume on his bed and quickly took his bag before wrapping one hand on each of mine and Haechan’s shoulders and guiding us out of the room.

“Oh, how did your “date” with Jeno go?” Haechan asked, pulling air quotes around date, making me playfully hit his shoulder and unwillingly smile.

“Nice, we talked about the party and what we’re going as. He’s going as Ash and he kinda hinted that he wants me to be Pikachu, but I could just be reading way too much into it, y’know?” I explained as we walked to the halls. “and he wore this really nice outfit. He had beige pants and a white dress shirt-“ “Already cute” “-right? And he also had black suspenders and a beige jacket.” I explained, basically fawning over him.

“Too bad he isn’t your soulmate.” Haechan said, making me shut up and look at the pavement. “Did you have to remind them?” Renjun asked, playfully hitting Haechan’s shoulder. “Sorry.” he quickly apologised.

“It’s fine, I know I shouldn’t be getting involved with him, but he’s just so-“ “Jeno?” Renjun asked, cutting me off. I nodded, sighing and pouting.

“He does seem perfect for you.” Renjun commented “I wish he was.” I pouted. “Hey now, as long as you both know it’s a meaningless relationship and not to get too involved, there’s no reason you can’t have a little fun!” He pointed out, making me chuckle. I wish it was that easy.

“Why can’t you just reassign your soulmate?”

Back at the dorms, Jaemin however was lying on the ground, his headphones blasting his shuffled playlist and staring at the ceiling and asking himself the same question, why can’t you just reassign your soulmate.

“Are you still hung up on what yn said?” Chenle asked, getting tired of seeing Jaemin dramatically lip-syncing, or lip-screaming in his case, all of the songs.

“Of course I am.” Jaemin sighed, stopping the music and sitting up. “Lemme guess, you want everyone to disappear?” Chenle asked. “No, you and Mark can stay….my dog can visit on the weekends, but that’s it.” Jaemin answered.  “What’s wrong with me?” He added, looking at his friend and pouting.

“You want me to get the list? nice.” Chenle said, nodding proudly at his joke. “Did you just “Nice” your own joke?” Jaemin asked, chuckling. “You would too, if you could do jokes. Nice.” And to that, Jaemin just rolled his eyes and stood up.

“If you were anyone else, I would have slapped you for that. You’re lucky I love you.” Jaemin scuffed, taking a sip from his water bottle and leaning against his desk.

“I know.” “You’re suppose to say it back, idiot.” “It back, idiot.” Chenle smiled proudly and waited for Jaemin’s response, which was just another eye-roll.

“Morning, fellow idiots.” Jisung announced before sitting next to Haechan and across from me. “You do realise you just called yourself an idiot, right?” Haechan asked, chuckling. “He’s very aware at his stupidity.” I reminded.

Once we all finished with our classes, we decided to meet up with Jisung at a cafe to catch up, as we haven’t seen each other properly since school started.

“What happened to you all when I was gone? Tell me the tea, the report, spare no detail.” Jisung said and dug into the cheesecake we ordered for him while waiting for his bus to get here.

“Well, I decided I’m going as 50 shades of grey to the party I was telling you about, Haechan tried frying eggs in a microwave and broke it-“ “I’m offended you’d ever even think it was me who did that.” “So it wasn’t you?” Renjun looked at Haechan in surprise. “No, it was me, but I’m still offended.” Haechan commented and drank her hot chocolate.

“And Yn met their soulmate, hates him and is in denial, so they’re using a guy they met as a way to distract themselves from their true destiny.” Renjun added before taking a bite out of his cookie. “They what now?” Jisung asked, excitedly, but almost choking on his cheesecake.

“Can we not talk about that?” I asked, avoiding eye contact and eating my carrot cake. “No, we’re talking about this! This is major!” He explained, wide eyed. He leaned closer to me and added “Tell me everything.” And so I did.

“I don’t know, maybe my brain thinks that if I spend so much time with Jeno, then I’ll eventually get tired of him or see some flaws and it’ll make me more open to Jaemin-“ “Bullshit, but proceed.” “-or maybe I’m simply just fooling myself, but I don’t care, I like Jeno and he likes me, so sue me for wanting to be with someone who actually has some manners.” I looked at Renjun, knowing that his pointing out my bullshit was correct.

“I don’t know, maybe you pushing Jaemin away will only make the part where you finally break and make out so much more enjoyable.” Jisung said, causing us all to look at him with confused looks on our faces. “What? I’m a glass half full person.” He defended and took another bite of his cheesecake.

“I think you’re full of shit” Renjun said “They shouldn’t be pushing their soulmate away in the first place.” he added. “That is true, but can you blame them? Isn’t the whole mutual pinning and sexual tension just going to make things more exciting?” Jisung asked, making me roll my eyes.

“Sung, there is no sexual tension between us, there is no mutual pinning, there is just annoyance.” I said “Not yet.” He commented, winking, making me lightly hit his arm. You’re standing on thin ice.” I warned. “No, I’m sitting and my legs are on the floor” He joked, taking a sip from his tea. “It’s an expression” I laughed “It’s a carpet” he mocked.

[ackb]

When I was young we lived in a two bedroom house half a block from my elementary school. A small brown house with a tiny green lawn and a one-car garage. There was a plum cherry tree by the fence on the far side of the little back yard and I could see it from the window of my bedroom. I can still feel the sensation of reaching up to pick a cherry and tugging down the whole branch, feathered with maroon leaves, only to let go and see it fly back up and right itself. 

When I was eight years old, my parents sold the house. We piled boxes in the car and drove across town, where Mom and I moved into the back bedroom of her sister’s family’s house. Having displaced my cousin into a room with his brother, we had little twin beds like the ones in old 50s sitcoms, though usually I’d fall asleep alone since Mom worked nights. A long three months passed, until Dad finally found work in Seattle and we packed up the car again to go north to join him.

For reasons I've never understood, those months, plus the few we lived in Seattle, formed a kind of swirling vortex into which all my childhood memories spin. If I'm telling a story about being a kid, it's practically a given that it's set in 1982.

Sometimes, during those first three months, when I was feeling homesick, I’d go out to the garage, where there was a stack of boxes from our house and I’d dig around until I found something from my room. A stuffed animal, sometimes, but usually a Star Wars action figure. My cousins had every Star Wars toy imaginable and we played with them all often. But I had my own little collection of figures too. My prized possessions. 

I didn't know then why my heart beat so fast whenever Princess Leia was onscreen. But wow. There's a moment when she's resting on her side, propped up on her right arm, and she moves her left to rest against the hill of her hip. Queer 80s kids—you know what I'm talking about. That moment replayed in my mind like a skipping record, wearing a groove into my eight-year-old heart. I felt a longing that I thought meant I wanted to be Leia. This unreadable childish lust vined and twisted around the real impossible longing: escape. I wanted so deeply to be rescued. So playtime was Star Wars and I was Leia. Always. 

We moved back from Seattle after just a couple of months. Everyone was angry that year. We lived with my aunt for just-one-more month—-like a warped, prescient Groundhog's Day--before finding a little apartment a few blocks over. Escape. But at some point along the escape route, a lot of what was in those boxes from the garage went missing. It was as if our lives that year were carried forward in a big leaky bucket, sloshing, dripping. My Star Wars toys were gone. A lot of things were gone. 

But I grew up anyway. Sixteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-Two, settled into my own rental house, swimming through busy days of school and work alongside a Beloved I cherished. Things that were gone followed me everywhere, and I worked and worked to stay hidden from them. I didn't know then that it wasn't about the Star Wars toys and so I became a collector. 

In those days I headed to work at 5pm in black pants and a white button-up, with a neon green plastic bowtie. I had been shoveling popcorn and selling tickets through a little hole in the bottom of a plexiglass cell for three years when Star Wars roared back into theaters and the job was suddenly fun. Everyone on staff was a big fan. We'd drive through Taco Bell on breaks to score kids meals with Star Wars toys. Figures rushed back into stores like they were making a Kessel run. Big chunks of paychecks fell off into the sea of salve for my broken hearted inner eight-year-old. I bought everything. I pinned action figure boxes to the walls of my office until I was surrounded by them. The bookshelves that had dominated the room found themselves clothed in the green, yellow, and black boxes of vehicles and accessories and stationery and lunchboxes. 

A photo of me survives from those days, clutching my newest purchase, eyes wild and joyous. I am absolutely surrounded by Star Wars Stuff (as I called it then and now) as if posing from a crowded museum gallery. I am thin in the photo, practically buried in the stuff, only half there at all. 

The next time we moved, it was my idea. We moved so that I could pursue a brand-new dream. Not so different than my dad, I think to myself now, though my failure took longer and cost more than his. I lovingly packed up my treasures. They slept. Then another move. And another. Then a cross-country move. Then a cross-town one. The treasures rested in their boxes in my office closet until it became the nursery closet, then, when the twins separated into two rooms, just my son's closet. Resting. I didn't need them anymore. They were memories, translucent. 

Something has tipped, gone over. I open the box. It's filled with another life, a crowded need I barely recognize. I take item after item out of the box and cannot help but laugh at myself. Who was this person? Oh, I remember now. The wounds. The narrow escape. The secrets. The missing persons. The crumbling foundation. The band-aids and the longing. I want to hug that small person. I want to lay her down in a nest of my daughter's blankets, pull up the cover to her small chin and turn on the machine that makes stars circle on the ceiling. I want to bring that young woman a cup of tea and sit with her at the kitchen table, gesture out the back window to the trees. Look. 

Once upon a time I thought I needed to replace things, to take control, to buy and to stuff myself up, to assuage the longing. Maybe I did. But I also needed to box it all up. To build a stronger structure around it, to allow a skin to form that can look like the real me, the whole me. 

And now, with the box open, packages all over the bed, one more stop. I post a photo to facebook. Anyone out there still love Star Wars? An acquaintance from high school messages me. I tell him what I have. One thing prompts three exclamation points in his response. "That's the one figure that was lost during our move!" He sends me a video of his sons opening the box. Joy. Tears. Repair. 

A circle closing.

[sams-sass]

Hear Me

Hi! Here is something I thought of and wanted to write down for you guys. Thanks for all the love! 

GIF not mine.

Summary: The case leads for Sam and Dean to find something out about you as Dean realizes something of his own. 

Characters: You, Sam, Dean

Pairing: Dean x Reader 

Warnings: None really, show level violence 

You, Sam, and Dean busted back into the motel room. You had spent the whole day looking into the lives of the victims and couldn’t come up with a single connection. Without a connection, there really wasn’t much to go on. All of the victims were female and had their throats slit and vocal cords removed. Other than that, they really had nothing in common. Different jobs, friends, ages, races, everything basically. You, Sam, and Dean had split up and gone to all the houses, it was a long day of listening to sad stories. You sat down on the bed as Dean handed you and Sam a beer before cracking one of his own.

“Maybe this isn’t a monster. Maybe its just a bad person doing a bad thing.” Sam said after taking a long drag from his beer.

“I don’t know, man. The lack of evidence, the stealing of the larynx specifically, the way the bodies were just tossed and not cared about. Seems pretty monstery to me.” Dean said back, his tone unsure.

“Sorry, Sammy, but I gotta go with Dean on this one. After leaving 7 bodies behind and not leaving a trace of evidence, especially since it could care less about the victims. It seems too lucky to be a human.” You weighed in coming to stand next to Sam.

“Alright so, lets go over it again. Dean, what did you find out about Beth?” Sam asked.

“Nothing man, she was a good girl. She wanted to be a scientist, she was studying physics, she had a boyfriend, craziest thing she did was sing karaoke at the local bar on Thursdays with friends.” Dean answered.

“Wait, she sang karaoke?” You asked looking up at him.

“Yeah, friend said she was good and that she loved to sing. What does that have to do with anything?” Dean asked giving you a confused look.

“The two girls I asked about, Jen and Grace. They were both singers too. Jen was a lot more professional taking gigs at bars, but she was also older. Grace was in her church choir. I didn’t think anything of it because a lot of people sing.” You answered

“Wait, my two were also singers. Hannah and Wendy both sang whenever they could. I didn’t think anything of it because what monster cares about singing.” Sam said nodding.

“Yeah….yeah the other two I asked about, uh Kelly and Dana they sang too. I ruled it out as a coincidence for same reason as Sam, what monster cares?” Dean agreed with the two of you.

“Holy….jackpot.” Sam said staring at his computer.

“What?” You and Dean said at the same time.

“There is a charity benefit concert thing coming up on Saturday, locally, and 4 out of our 7 victims were registered to be in it.” Sam said looking at the two of you, turning his computer so you could see.

“Well, that’s not a coincidence.” You said looking over the webpage.

“No, its not.” Dean shook his head next to you.

“This is a problem.” You sighed standing up straight.

“What is?” Dean asked.

“Every girl who is still registered is in danger. I think we need to be backstage.” You said letting your hip rest against the counter and crossing your arms.

“So what your saying is…we need a girl who can sing to go undercover for us.” Sam said raising one eyebrow and tilting his head in your direction.

“Concerts two days away.” You answered looking away, deep in thought. “I’ll sneak in the back and pretend to be a contestant. That way I can keep an eye on all of the girls and also feed you guys information as you’re in the audience.”

“You can’t sing….what if you have to sing?” Dead was confused, eyebrows furrowed.

“I can sing, I just don’t randomly sing in front of people.” You explained. “Now, if you will excuse me. I have some shopping to do and you guys have some tux’s to look into.”

“Tux?!” Dean said, eyes wide.

“Did you not read the part where it said it was a black tie affair?” You said grabbing your purse and heading for the door. You had seen a little boutique on your way in and knew they would have a dress for you. “Peace.” You said giving them a smile as the door closed behind you. You walked to the boutique to find a woman with a friendly face and a large smile. She helped you choose several dresses that you tried on. You found the one. It was a gown that hugged your curves and let loose where you wanted it too. It was a classic dress. You bought it and walked out of the store happy.

The next day the three of you devised a plan. Dean got a hold of the blueprints for the building and you two created a plan on the best way for you to sneak in. You then helped Sam to research on what this monster could be.  

“Oh my god…” You said looking at the webpage in front of you. “Well, goddess to be correct.”

“Goddess? What goddess?” Dean asked coming to stand behind you. He put his arms on the chair and leaned down. You could feel his breath on your skin, it was a slight distraction.

“Aoede, the goddess of voice and song. She was one of the original muses in Greek mythology. Said to collect voices of true song from those she deemed worthy.” You said reading from the page.

“Great. Another goddess.” Dean said pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How do we kill her?” Sam asked.

“According to this her only weakness is a gold blade dipped in the blood of a virgin.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Why do these things like virgins so much?” Dean spread his arms out, annoyance on his handsome face.

“Don’t know.” Sam said shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

“I have a crazy idea.” You said biting your lower lip. “Well, out of the three of us, I have definitely had the least amount of sex. So, what about if we purify my blood and give it a shot?”

“It could work.” Dean said tilting his head to the side and raising his hands in a “whatever” gesture.

“I mean if it doesn’t we’re screwed….but we’re always screwed and I don’t have a better idea so, alright.” Sam said placing his hands on his shoulder and looking into your eyes as you smiled up at him.

The next day you spent getting ready, the concert started at 7 and you were nervous. You hadn’t sung in years and you picked a big song. You dressed in black slacks and a white button down with a black vest over it. You went to the concert hall two hours early and snuck in the back door. You waited for other staff members begin to arrive, then you quietly walked into the room and stood with the rest of the cocktail waiters and waitresses. People began to arrive and fill the room, you slipped away and grabbed your backpack out of the bathroom stall you locked it in and walked in the back towards the dressing rooms. You found an empty one and locked the door. You curled your hair and pinned one side back letting the others fall. You went for a bold makeup look, a dark smokey eye and bold red lips. Taking the gold jewelry that you kept from your previous life before you became a hunter, you added a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. Then you slipped on your new dress and heels and opened the door as other contestants began to fill the halls. You needed to be quick to get to the band before people started taking their seats. You walked to the back and found the head of music, identifying him from the website you and Sam looked over. You quietly slipped him a 50 and whispered the song into his ear, placing your hand on his chest and looking up at him from your eyelashes. He nodded and licked his lips, letting his eyes linger on you for too long. You walked to the back of the stage with the other girls and waited.

People were now taking their seats as Sam and Dean looked around the room trying to find the seat with the best view to see the crowd. They walked to the back and took seats directly in the middle, looking around the room.

“Man, I hate wearing this thing.” Dean said tugging on his collar slightly. “I look like a penguin.” Sam smirked and looked at the crowd. The first few people came out and sang, they were all good, but neither Sam or Dean saw a reaction in the audience. Then you came on stage. Dean sat a little straighter in his chair as his stomach flipped. You were radiant, your dress was tight and showed off your figure. Your red lips were turned into a small smile as your heels clicked against the floor. The music started and Dean couldn’t look at anything but you. Your mouth opened and Dean heard the sound that suddenly made everything make sense.

Share my life, take me for what I am 'Cause I'll never change all my colors for you

Take my love, I'll never ask for too much Just all that you are and everything that you do

“Did you know she could sing like that?” Sam asked leaning in closer. Dean couldn’t form words at the moment so he just shook his head. I don't really need to look very much further I don't wanna have to go where you don't follow I won't hold it back again, this passion inside Can't run from myself There's nowhere to hide Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there Don't walk away from me... I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you

Your body was swaying along with the song and Dean couldn’t pull his eyes away, he was pretty sure he didn’t even blink. Dean was sitting there, mind swirling with images of you, quickly realizing he has been in love with you for years. Of course there was the playful flirting and smiles but this was something new. This feeling in his chest was growing in him and he couldn’t breathe. His arms were planted firmly on his thighs, holding him up. His green eyes gazing at you in a new light. You see through right to the heart of me You break down my walls with the strength of your love I never knew love like I've known it with you Will a memory survive, one I can hold on to I don't really need to look very much further I don't wanna have to go where you don't follow I won't hold it back again, this passion inside I can't run from myself There's nowhere to hide Your love I'll remember forever Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there Don't walk away from me... I have nothing, nothing, nothing...

You spread your arms out wide and looked through the whole audience. Dean knew you couldn’t see him, but God all he wanted was for you to look directly at him. His whole body was on fire and you were the only medicine. Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there Don't walk away from me, no Don't walk away from me Don't you dare walk away from me I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you

The entire audience was silent after you sang your final note before an eruption of applause surged through the crowd. People stood as they continued to clap, you took a small bow and waved as you walked off the stage. The trance Dean was in broke as Sam hit him in the chest lightly, getting his attention.

“Dude, black dress three o’clock.” Dean looked to where his brother was pointing, a woman with long auburn hair was exiting her row and heading for the backstage hallway. The two hurried from their seats and followed after her. When they walked into the hallway you were standing there, waiting.

“I saw her come this way.” You said as the brothers approached you. As soon as the words left your mouth Sam went flying towards the wall. Dean turned and grabbed his gold knife with your blood on it from the back of his pants. The woman walked out of the darkness and into the light. She was stunning. She had long auburn hair that cascaded in a waterfall of waves down her back, her eyes were a shining royal blue and her skin was a rich almond color with not a trace of impurities. As the two of you looked at her she waved her hand and Dean also went flying. Sam got up and charged at her with his knife, she quickly walked towards all of you and rammed Sam back to the ground.

“I just want your voice.” She said to you.

“Sorry, sis.” You said before you too were slammed into the wall. Dean charged at her and was able to land one blow in before she flung him across the room again. You tried to get up but couldn’t, there was something holding you to the ground. She continued to toss the boys around as you struggled against her hold. She pinned Dean to the ground and was holding her hand up, ready to strike when her head flung back as the gold blade entered her chest. She screamed loud and high, a light came from her chest and she burst into a ball of light that slowly dissipated. You stood there with the gold knife in your hand, panting slightly.

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Dean said as Sam helped him to his feet. You nodded and the three of you quickly ran out the back door, someone must have heard something and was going to come and look. You all walked into the motel and Sam was the first to talk.

“So, Y/N.” Here we go. “Why didn’t you tell us you could sing like that?” He asked undoing his bowtie.

“What was I supposed to do? Be like oh, by the way guys: I’m a really good singer? Good morning, I can sing my little heart out, side note.” Sam laughed with you as you giggled.

“You’re amazing, Y/N.” Dean said, there was no joking in his face as he looked into your eyes.

“Thank you.” You tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear as you looked down and smiled, feeling shy. You licked you lips. “Hey, mind if I take the first shower?” You asked. Both boys said you could take it and you quickly stepped out of your heels. Undressing and getting under the warm water felt really good, it is always fun to dress up now and again, but you enjoyed sweat pants a little more. As the makeup washed off your face and the curls were rinsed from your hair you thought about Dean. He looked so good tonight in his tux and for a few moments you could have sworn he was staring. Your crush on him had been brewing for a long time and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in. How many more times could you see him pick up some girl who smelt like 5 dollar perfume? How many more times could you have him wink at you or kiss you on the head and not reciprocate? How many more times could you ignore the dance your insides did when he looked at you like he was tonight? You shook all thoughts from your head and got out of the shower, putting on sweat pants and a big shirt for sleeping. You walked into the room as Sam walked into the bathroom. You gave Dean a small smile and walked over to one of the beds. You both sat down and it was then that you noticed Dean seemed nervous. He looked at you and then quickly looked away.

“What is it?” You asked facing him and leaning your head, trying to catch his eyes.

“Y/N….I don’t know how to say this.” Your breath caught in your throat as your stomach twisted into a tight knot.

“What is it?” You asked, trying to sound calm as your palms got sweaty.

“I, well, I think I’m in love with you.” He said finally looking at you. “I mean it, Y/N, when you were on that stage tonight…I could hardly breathe. You are the first thing that pops into my head in the morning and the last thing that floats through my mind at night. I always thought we were best friends, but baby, you mean so much more to me than just friendship.” He moved so he was now kneeling in front of you. His hands resting on your thighs as he spoke. “Every time I hear your voice my day is instantly better, every time I see you after a case I automatically know its going to be ok. You’re the one Y/N, you’re the one for me.” His hands were now running up and down your thighs as his eyes held yours.

“I love you too, Dean. I always have.” Was the only thing you could think of to say. He laughed slightly and you did too he then leaned forward and pressed his plump lips to yours. Your mouths moved together in perfect sync, his tongue entering your mouth, you sucking lightly on his bottom lip. Everything about the kiss was more than you ever dreamed of. Sam clearing his throat is what broke the two of you apart. He gave an awkward nod as he pressed his lips into a hard line. He quietly grabbed his bag and mumbled something about getting his own room. As soon as the door shut Dean was on you again, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek as his lips found yours again. His fingers lightly brushed the back of your neck as you twisted your arms around him. You both fell into the passionate and warm bliss that surrounded you and succumbed to your feelings.

As Sam walked out of the office holding the key to his own room he whispered a ‘finally’ to himself as his mouth rounded into a smile.

Three years later

“Dean!” You screamed running through the halls of the bunker. You guys had found this place a few months ago and nothing felt as good as having something to call ‘home’, or so you thought. You ran into his chest as he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from him, checking you over for an injury.

“What is it, baby?” He said, worry etched into his face.

“I’m….I’m….I.” You tried but you couldn’t get it out so you just handed him the test. He took it from you and stared at the plus sign. Your fingers nervously twisted as he continued to stare.

“You’re pregnant.” He said matter of factly. “Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” He said lifting you in his arms and kissing you desperately on the mouth. “I love you so much, I love you, I love you, I love you.” He said as tears filled his eyes.

“I love you too, Dean Winchester.” Was all you could get out before his mouth stopped you from speaking.

[elston57]

Pokemon Birthday Party Games

So you have little colleagues who love Pokemon and their birthday is fast moving nearer? Never fear, help is here. Both of my little youngsters love Pokemon, they are ages 6 and 9. What is Pokemon you say? Pokemon means "Pocket Monster" in Japanese. The crazy characters form into different characters and they use pokemon moves to "fight" each other causing "hurt". This free for all has begun in Japan, anyway is significantly standard here in the US. The Pokemon characters all have a HP number, how much the Pokemon is worth and the higher HP cards are significantly longed for young fellows. At any rate, back to your social affair issue. I just set up a mind boggling Pokemon party for my kid's 10th birthday festivity. He loved it and his colleagues made some incredible memories. Coming up next are some acceptable musings for you and they are EASY and INEXPENSIVE to do. I plunked down one evening and created a couple of games that I could without a doubt make the arrangements for and they would be interesting to play. Coming up next is a framework overview of the games we considered and read on to get the nuances of each one. Keep in mind, these are EASY, FUN and INEXPENSIVE and I will exhort you correctly how I did it and what you need:

o Pass the Pokeball

o Pin the Tail on Pikachu

o Pokemon Balloon Dart Throw

o Pokemon Master Tracking

o Gliscor Bean Bag Score

1. Pass the Pokeball If you are indirectly familiar with Pokemon, you will contemplate pokeballs. To play this game, I went to a strength store and purchased a LARGE Styrofoam ball, they seem to go in cost from $5 to $11. I moreover got some red launderable claim to fame paint while I was at the craftsmanship store. Paint a huge bit of the ball with the red workmanship paint, let it dry, then use dim electrical tape to tape around the circuit of the ball right where the white Styrofoam gets along with the red paint. This made the PERFECT pokeball. Rapid and straightforward and humble. Then we had a little control center (humble one) that could be normally set to play music. If you don't have a control center, utilize anything that can make music, collection player, instrument, drum set, guitar, whatever plays music and can be ended and started. Have every one of the youngsters sit in general and they need to hand the pokeball to each other in an indirect plan. They can't throw the ball. I would then starting the music on the control center and close my eyes and stop it following 20 to 30 seconds. I shut my eyes, so I wouldn't understand who might have been holding the ball when the music ended. Whoever is holding the ball when the music stops is out, then play again until there is only 1 player left. Give the player who is left a get-together prize.

Supplies recap:

I. Tremendous Styrofoam ball

ii. Red workmanship paint

iii. Electrical tape

2. Nail the Tail to Pikachu - Pikachu is one of the rule pokemon characters and if your kids like Pokemon they like Pikachu. For this game, I found a nice picture of Pikachu. I used a picture out of the Pokemon Handbook that we have, yet if you don't have one of those, use a pokemon card of Pikachu, or print a picture of Pikachu at pokemon.com. I bought a heap of 10 white posterboards at a deal shop. Look at the picture and draw a tremendous picture of Pikachu to cover most of the posterboard (1 sheet). Do whatever it takes not to draw his tail. Use an alternate posterboard to draw enough Pikachu tails (shaped like a lightning bolt) for each get-together guest to have one. After I drew the Pikachu and a while later drew the tails, I had my kids concealing the Pikachu and tails, they valued having an effect. Eliminate the Pikachu tails. I had an old plug board that I had the alternative to mount this Pin the Tail on the Pikachu game onto so it had a solid back and could be hung up outside. Put the name of each social affair guest on one of the tails and not long before they play, add a lone section of twofold sided tape. Exactly when you are ready to play this, use a hanky to cover the eyes of your get-together guests, whirl them around in a circle twice and direct them towards the Pikachu. Do whatever it takes not to allow them to feel their bearing around, any spot they contact the Pikachu they should put the tail on there, regardless the kids who go last will really need to encourage where to put the tails by feeling where various kids tails are trapped. Give a prize to the social event guest who gets Pikachu's tail closest to the right spot Pokemon Go Plus .

Supplies recap:

I. Picture of Pikachu

ii. Immense white posterboard for drawing picture of Pikachu

iii. Immense white posterboard for drawing different Pikachu tails figuratively speaking

iv. Twofold sided tape

v. Tissue

3. Pokemon Balloon Dart Throw - Kids love to pop inflatables and throw darts, so set up these two things in a fun and straightforward activity. The night preceding the social event I bought 50 inflatables at a get-together store. Each Pokemon character has a HP regard, or a centers regard. For example, Pikachu might be 60 HP, Shadowlugia 300 HP, etc You can find the names of various Pokemon characters in a Pokemon handbook or you can find them online at Pokemon.com. Take some plain white paper and cut it into strips that are around 1 inch high by 3 inches long. Make the name out of a substitute Pokemon and their HP Number on the strips. We had 6 youngsters at the get-together and I detonated 45 inflatables. For example, you might make Ryperior 90 HP on a slip. Make each piece of paper with a substitute individual and add the HP number (use results of 10 only for the HP regards). We used each character name simply a solitary time yet reused the HP 50, HP60, HP70, HP80, HP90, etc Anyway we just had 1 individual (Shadowlugia) that had the most raised HP of HP300, no other card had the HP300 on it. Overlay the bits of paper nearly nothing and punch it inside the inflatable prior to detonating the inflatable. I then used an air blower to detonate the inflatables quickly and tie them in a knot. You will see the little bits of paper inside. I set aside the inflatables overnight in huge trash bags and they remained coursed up fine. I purchased a lot of 6 darts at a games store to use for this game. If you have a tremendous fitting board, join the inflatables with push pins to the plug board. Host the party guests stay back around 8 feet and throw 2 darts a piece and endeavor to pop the inflatables (like a customary sideshow fascination). In case they pop an inflatable have them get together and keep the piece of paper with the Pokemon character on it and the HP number (see the accompanying Pokemon Master following in regards to how to deal with the bits of paper and checking the HP numbers). They needed to pop these inflatables and they loved finding the bits of paper to find which Pokemon character they had and what was the HP number. We played a couple of rounds of this game!

Supplies recap:

I. Pack of inflatables (have something like somewhere around 40)

ii. Plain white paper

iii. Names of Pokemon characters and made up HP numbers (I didn't save the work to investigate each characters veritable HP number, that is a great deal of work, just put down any HP number you need, anyway have one individual with the most significant HP

iv. Heap of 6 darts (about $2.50)

4. Pokemon Master following - There is no doubt your youngsters think about Ash Ketchum if they like Pokemon, he is a Pokemon expert. To make it fun and to get the youngsters to have to get the bits of paper I put inside the inflatables, I made a Pokemon Master graph to follow each get-together guests characters and HP regards. I used a gigantic white posterboard and made Pokemon Masters at the top and used some Pokemon stickers to plan with. You can buy Pokemon stickers, or use sticker paper in your printer and essentially print some Pokemon cards or Pokemon characters from the web. I then apportioned (using a secret market) the posterboard into the quantity of get-together guests I have a made a huge square for all of them. As the young fellows collected the Pokemon character slips from popping the inflatables, I had another adult sign in their Pokemon characters and their connected HP Values onto the Pokemon Master diagram. I just had it taped to my auxiliary entry and the young fellows venerated moving toward see what their Pokemon scores were. I gave a prizes for the most raised HP complete in each round of darts. One child may pop an inflatable with the Pokemon character piece of paper that said Metagross 90 HP and his ensuing pop may have been Snover 60 HP, we recorded these both onto his square on the Pokemon Master following posterboard and his hard and fast HP for the round was 150 HP. If he had the most raised score that round, he got a prize. I let the youngsters throw 2 darts a piece for each turn. I furthermore gave a prize for the most decreased HP score, so no one found out about left. Have an adult record the names and HP numbers to keep it moving. Around the completion of all the inflatable popping I gave a prize to party guest who found the Shadowlugia 300 HP piece of paper, as it was our most raised HP regard "card".

[jams-sims]

Today episode really solidify that- Unus Annus will be ending real soon. So I finally bought myself a piece of their merch. I couldn't see my self spending another 50 close to 60 dollars. Again today so I bought something simple.

The Unus Annus pinto go with my whole ass collection of pins. Im legit gonna fucking cry when its over.

[orionseyes]

Questions & Answers About Reading

Last week my offspring Tara asked me to read a picture book and videotape it for her class of second and third graders. After the students saw the video of me reading the book they had several questions for me. These are my answers to their questions.

1. What genre of books do you like the most?

I like fiction, preferably stories that take me to another time and place. I don’t get to travel much so reading is a way for me to travel in space and in time.

2. When did you start reading?

I don’t remember starting reading so I must have been doing it for a very long time. My parents were immigrants and they did not speak or read English very well. So we did not have a lot of books around the apartment when I was young. I remember reading cereal boxes, the phonebook, and any magazines or books that were around the house. The first book I remember was a book by L Frank Baum called The Magic of Oz. It is one of the books he wrote about the marvelous land of Oz. I still have that book.

3. What is your favorite series? (when you were a kid and as an adult)

As a child my favorite series was the Oz books by L Frank Baum. Being written at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries, these were old books when I started reading in the middle of the 20th century.

I am not currently reading a series of books. One recent series that I enjoyed is a set of nine crime novels by Qiu Xiaolong who was born in Shanghai in 1953 and is now living in St. Louis. Wikipedia says the “books follow Shanghai Chief Inspector Chen Cao, a poetry-quoting cop who writes poems himself. Alongside the plot, the major concern in the books is modern China itself. Each book features quotes from ancient and modern poets, Confucius, insights into Chinese cuisine, architecture, history, politics, herbology and philosophy as well as criminal procedure.

4. What was your favorite book when you were in 2nd and 3rd Grade?

I was in the second and third grade in 1955 and 56. That was a long time ago. My favorite book at that time was called McWhinney’s Jaunt and was written and illustrated by a fairly famous children’s author named Robert Lawson. This was one of his lesser works. The publisher describes it in this way, “McWhinney’s Jaunt is the amazing tale of an eccentric professor who accidentally creates Z gas, an almost magical substance that allows him to pedal his bicycle up into the air. He sets off on a journey all over the United States of America and has many adventures.”

I liked it at the time because, as a child of poor immigrants living in the South Bronx, this was as close as I was going to get to seeing America. It seems strangely prophetic today because I loved bicycling my whole life and I spent over 40 years as a librarian to eccentric engineering professors.

5. What is your favorite book now?

Having been a librarian for over 50 years, this is a very difficult question to pin down to one book. It might be like asking a retired school teacher who was your favorite student. I imagine the teacher would eventually have to settle on the student who had the greatest impact in life, because there were so many who were favorites for many different reasons. Using that criteria, I would say that my favorite book is The Kingdom of God is Within You by Leo Tolstoy. This is the foundational book on Christian nonviolence in western literature. It provides a history of non-violence thinking in the West and formed the thinking of many of the current century’s nonviolent leaders like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Lither King Jr.

6. What do you find interesting in a book?

Novelty, new information presented in an interesting and clear manner, a story well told. Characters who come to life for me. Places I have never been described in ways that make me feel like I am there.

7. When you were a child what was your favorite library?

This is an easy question to answer. When I was your age living in the South Bronx I had no idea what a library was. When my parents moved to Highland Falls, NY, the town library became my favorite library because it was the only library in town. It was my home away from home. We owe a great deal to small town librarians who bring books and information to rural communities.

8. What is your favorite library now?

My favorite library is The Internet Archive, an online collection of books, magazines, movies, and pictures. I can download items to my computer, tablet, or smart phone without leaving home.

But I think you may have been asking about my favorite library building, a physical space that provides access to information resources. I have a fondness for the library I worked at for 36 years, but it is a university library so it specializes and serves a limited audience. My favorite library is the Seattle Public Library. It provides excellent services and collections in a spectacular space that is inspiring and available to all. My thanks to Tara for introducing me to this library.

9. What time of day do you read?

My favorite times to read are: The newspaper at breakfast, Outdoors in the sun (or the shade in the hot summer) in the middle of the day, and in the middle of the night when I wake up and the house is quiet.

10. How often do you read?

I read books less than I used to, but that is because I am reading screens of print almost all day long.

11. If you were an author, what genre would you want to write?

If I was an author I would like to write poetry. But I am not an author and I am certainly not a poet. What writing I have done has mostly been nonfiction, explaining how things work or who people were.

12. Who encouraged you to read?

My mother encouraged me to read. She bought encyclopedias that sat on shelves in our living room. I think those were the first books that we had as a home library.

13. What type of books did you read when you were a child?

I don’t think I read any particular type of books when I was a child. I did love comic books. DC comics were big at that time And Marvel comics were just starting out. I used to go to the public library and scan the shelves in the children’s room picking out any book that interested me.

14.Would you prefer to read with an e-reader or a paper book?

As far as reading goes, I don’t have a preference for which medium I use. I like that I can make the print larger or smaller on an E reader. But I like that I can share a paper book with others and give it to friends. Since I always have my smart phone with me, I like having a book on my phone so I can read it anytime, anywhere.

My thanks to Ms Pozo’s students at Thoreau Elementary School  for the thought provoking questions. I’ve had to think long and hard about some of these answers, and I may have talked more than you expected. I hope I didn’t bore you with my answers.

[mustangshelby04]

Boston Boy - Chapter 16

A/N All right guys, there’s only one more chapter after this! But don’t worry your beautiful heads off, I’ll be doing some one shots to continue the story. Let me know what you want to see. I would love to get your ideas for the future of this beautiful couple!

Kate sat in the nursery with Gally curled up next to her and Dodger sitting with his head on her leg.  She looked around the room and admired hers and Chris’ handiwork.  They had gone with a Winnie the Pooh theme, using the original drawings of the characters since the colors were softer.  Chris had bought a beautiful and very plush, white and gray glider with a gliding foot rest for the nursery and it was Kate’s favorite place in the penthouse now.  She would spend hours rocking in the chair and dreaming up what her child’s life would be.

The glider was the only piece of furniture in the room beyond a bookshelf that was already starting to collect books.  The travel system from Ellen was sitting in one corner of the room with a large box full of the rest of the amazing gifts from her.  The rest of the furniture hadn’t been bought yet.  She and Chris were ordered not to buy anything beyond the glider.

Kate was now four weeks away from her due date and was beyond ready for it to be over with.  The world tour she’d joined Chris for had taken a lot out of her.  While she had had a ton of fun, her body just hadn’t been up to the task of that much fun and growing a small human at the same time. She had taken another week off and then gone back to work.  Unfortunately, the doctor was worried about her blood pressure and her showing some early warning signs of preeclampsia, so he had asked her to stop working as much as she had been.

Danielle had been amazing about everything.  She had two kids of her own and understood what Kate needed better than Kate herself did.  She had promised that Kate’s job was secure when she was ready to come back full time. Until then, she would only work part time if she felt up to it.

Chris walked into the nursery and chuckled. “You know, you can’t hide forever.”

“Who says I can’t try?” Kate retorted.

He just held his hands out to help her stand up. “Everyone is downstairs waiting.”

She took his hands and let him lift her to her feet. “I hate baby showers. And bridal showers for future reference.”

“Noted.  Not like I can do anything about it.  You’ve met my mother.  And my sisters and my brother.  You’re welcome to fight that.”

“Chicken shit.”  

“But hey, the cake is really pretty.”

“You weren’t supposed to go downstairs.”

“I needed something to drink.  They kicked me out pretty quickly.”

Lisa, Carly, Shanna, Scott, and Helena had all decided that they were going to decorate and Kate and Chris weren’t allowed to see any of it.  They didn’t even know who was on the guestlist. The whole thing had been kept hush-hush from the parents-to-be.

“I can’t wait to get our place to ourselves again.”

“It is feeling a bit crowded this week.  Careful!” Since the doctor had mentioned the preeclampsia (and Chris had done research on it), he had been hyperactively protective of her.  He freaked out if she tried to walk up and down stairs by herself.  She just rolled her eyes at him.

“Happy baby shower!” Everyone yelled and Chris and Kate came down the stairs.

There were so many people there!  Helena, Bill and Jan, and Lisa, Carly, Shanna, and Scott were obviously there; Chris’ dad, Bob and his wife; Kate’s aunt Charlotte had come up from Virginia and her uncle Ron and aunt Debbie had come in from Chicago; Scarlett Johansson had come; Downey and his wife were there; Chris’ best friend, Tara, had made it down; April was there; Danielle had come with her husband, Charles; Amy had driven up for the occasion; Sebastian Stan had shown up; and Megan was there, too.  The place was decorated with pink and blue streamers and balloons that said, “It’s a Boy” and “It’s A Girl” on them.  There were a few that said, “Boy or Girl?”  There was a massive pile of presents in the living room.  The cake and food had been set up in a beautiful display on the kitchen island and a drink station with a blue punch and a pink punch was set up on the kitchen counter.  There were little woodland creature decorations everywhere, too.

Carly and Scott walked over to Kate and Chris.  Carly draped a “Mommy-To-Be” sash over Kate while Scott pinned a “Daddy-To-Be” button to Chris’ shirt.  Lisa and Helena were both wearing pins that said “Grandma-To-Be.”  Someone had made a diaper cake and set it next to the actual cake, which was two tiers of cutesy woodland creatures running amok.  There was a photobooth area with different props for the pictures that Danielle had kindly set up and offered to run.

“Happy baby shower!” Carly squealed, kissing Kate’s cheek.

“That is a fuckton of presents.” Kate said.

“We’ll get to those.  Right now, we want pictures!”

Chris and Kate were stood at the photobooth and the guests that wanted pictures were allowed to pick the props.  It took a good half hour before they were allowed to get food.  Chris fixed her a plate so she could go sit down.  The love seat had been decorated with blue and pink streamers and someone had created the backs of thrones out of cardboard. One said Daddy and was painted blue and the other said Mommy and was painted pink.  There were even fake pink and blue jewels glued to both of them to make them even more throne-like.

Carly made Chris and Kate sit in their respective seats while people ate and Shanna hosted the three games they had planned.  April won the game where the guests had to use string to guess how big around Kate’s stomach was.  She received a gift bag filled with home spa items.  The second game was where the guests had to guess what candy bar was melted in the different diapers.  Tara had won that game and was given a gift bag filled with candles, an engraved picture frame, and various candies.  The third and final game was called “My Water Broke” where everyone had been given an ice cube with a plastic baby in it.  The first person who’s baby was free of the ice had to yell that their water broke. Sebastian had been overenthusiastic when yelling it, startling everyone in the room.  He had walked away with a $50 VISA gift card.

While everyone started throwing their plates away, Helena had Chris and Kate cut the cake.  She stayed to serve the pieces to everyone while the parents-to-be took their love seat thrones again.  Carly, Shanna, and Scott had begun moving presents closer to the love seat to be passed over to Chris and Kate.  While they waited for everyone to get their slices of cake and eat them, Scarlett came over and sat down next to Kate on Chris’ side of the loveseat.  Chris had gotten up and was across the room talking with his father and Bill.  Probably getting some dad advice.

“You’re not having any fun, are you?” Scarlett said conspiratorially to Kate.

“Not in the slightest.” Kate said. “I hate showers.  And I feel like a bloated whale.”

“I hate these things, too.  Just give me the presents and don’t make a fuss.”

“Exactly!”  

“And for the record, you don’t look like a bloated whale.” She held her hand out to Kate. “Your fiancé sucks at introductions.  I’m Scarlett.” “Kate.”

“I’m sorry we’re just now meeting.  I wanted to come along on the Civil War tour, but I had some prior engagements.”

“It’s ok.”

“Chris has talked almost non-stop about you and the baby.  I’m so happy for you guys.”

“I’ve actually been kind of nervous to meet you.”

“Yeah?  Why’s that?”

“Chris talks so highly of you.  You’re one of his closest friends.”

“Oh, I’m not that scary.”

“I didn’t think you would be, and hey, I survived meeting Tara.”

“She’s a cool chick.”

“Yeah.”

“If I’m being honest, I’ve been kind of nervous to meet you, too.”

Kate laughed. “Me?  Oh god, why?”

“Well, I’ve met a few of Chris’ girlfriends.  None of them, in my opinion, have measured up to what I think my friend deserves.  I can be a little protective of him.  I was a little nervous that you wouldn’t measure up, too.”

“That scares me.” “Don’t worry.  From what I can tell, you exceed expectations.  Chris looks genuinely happier than I’ve ever seen him. Downey, Mackie, Lizzie, and Hemmy all sing your praises.”

“They’re sweet.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Um…. Done.  I’m feeling done.  If Jelly Bean wants to vacate the premises, I won’t stop him or her.”

“I remember those days.  They pretty much sucked.”

“Yes.  Yes, they do.”

“You’re in the home stretch now.”

“Thankfully!”

“Any contractions yet?”

“Lots of Braxton Hicks.  They’ve been happening a lot on and off today.”

“It’s all the excitement.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“Oh god, have you started nesting yet?”

“Yes!  It’s insane! It’s been driving me batty not to have the furniture we need to finish the nursery.  We were told to hold off on the big stuff.”

“I would love to see it.”

“Yeah?” Kate started the struggle to get up and Scarlett helped her to her feet. The two women headed around into the kitchen and started up the stairs.

“Whoa, hey.” Chris came rushing over. “Where are you going?”

“To show Scarlett the nursery.”

“I’ll come with.”

“Chris, baby, I can walk up the stairs without help.”

“But….”

“Go back to the party, Evans.” Scarlett joked. “You’re being a helicopter mom right now.”

Chris looked at them with wide, puppy dog eyes. “I’m immune to those things now.” Kate said. “Put them away before you strain your eyes.  I’ll be fine.”

Scarlett laughed and followed Kate upstairs, turning briefly to mouth to Chris, “I really like her.”

Ten minutes later, the two walked back downstairs arm in arm and laughing. It made Chris happy to see that they had hit it off and seemed as thick as thieves already.  Lisa walked over and apologized to Scarlett before taking Kate away. She and Chris spent the next hour and a half opening all of the presents that their guests had brought and ones that had been sent from friends that couldn’t make it to the shower.  Carly was writing down what they got and who sent it so Chris and Kate could send out thank you cards later.

When the shower finally wound down and people began leaving, they were given cute little gift bags with travel-sized hand sanitizers from Bath and Body Works, mini-jar candles from Yankee Candle, some butter mints in a little baby bottle, and little engraved frames holding a picture from Chris’ and Kate’s maternity shoot that Danielle had insisted on doing.  The only ones left at the end of the night were Amy, Lisa, and Scott.  Helena and Bill had declined the offer to stay at the penthouse and had gotten a hotel nearby.  Lisa and Amy were staying at the penthouse in the two guest rooms while Scott was taking the couch from Kate’s garage apartment that Chris had put in the downstairs guest room that they had turned into an office for him and Kate.  Carly and Shanna had driven back to Sudbury so Carly could get back to her kids and Shanna could get to work in the morning.

“We’ll start working on putting this all together tomorrow.” Lisa said.

“I can’t believe we got all of this stuff!” Chris said. “Everyone is so sweet for doing this.” Kate let out a heavy breath and rubbed her stomach. “What’s wrong?” Chris was on instant high alert.

“Braxton-Hicks.” Kate said. “They’ve been happening on and off all day.”

“Are you sure?  Should we call the doctor?”

“I have an appointment tomorrow.  I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need anything?” Lisa asked.

“Actually, I’ve got a headache and I’m feeling kind of tired.  I want to go upstairs and lay down.”

Chris stood up and helped her to her feet. “I’ll be back down in a little bit.”

“Go on up and stay with her.” Lisa said. “We’ll clean up down here.”

“Thanks, ma.”

Kate sighed as Chris helped her change into her usual oversized T-shirt she slept in, take her contacts out, and lay down on their bed. “Thanks.”

“Are you ok?”

“Could you grab some Tylenol for me?”

“Of course.” Chris rushed into the bathroom and came out with Tylenol and a glass of water.  He set to work massaging her feet, but stopped when he noticed how swollen they were. “Babe, are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m a little dizzy, but I think that’s cause of the headache and all the fun today.”

“Kat, your feet and legs are really swollen.  That’s a sign of preeclampsia.  So are headaches and dizziness.”

“The doctor did say I was at risk.  We’re going tomorrow, so we can ask then.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to call now?”

“Chris, it’s late.”

“It’s nine at night.”

“Well, that’s late enough.” Kate curled up on her side. “I’m going to sleep.”

“I’m going to brush my teeth and take my contacts out, then I’ll join you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He leaned over and kissed her.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris woke up to the sounds of his name being called between gagging coming from the bathroom.  The clock said it was around three in the morning.  He quickly jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.  Kate was clinging to the toilet, shaking and crying. “Hey….” He moved to her side and let out a curse when he saw the blood in the toilet. “Kate!”

“Chris, I don’t feel good.” Kate sobbed.

“We’re going to the hospital.” He jumped up and ran out of the room. “MA!” Chris burst through the guest bedroom door, startling his mother awake. “Ma, it’s Kate!  Help!”

Lisa was up like a shot.  She followed Chris into the bedroom and then pushed past him when she heard Kate. “Oh no! Sweetheart…. Chris, get her some clothes.”

“What’s going on?” Amy asked from the doorway to the bedroom.

“I’m taking Kate to the hospital.” Chris said, grabbing a pair of yoga pants out of one of Kate’s drawers while dialing the number to a car service on his cell phone. “Can you go wake up Scott?”

“Yeah!” Amy turned and ran downstairs.

Lisa was running a washrag over Kate’s face, whispering comforting words to her. “Come on, Katie.  Let’s get your clothes on.” Chris came over and gave his mother the yoga pants as he dialed the emergency number to Kate’s doctor.

Scott ran in, throwing a shirt on. “What’s going on?”

“Scott, come help me.” Scott rushed over and helped his mother get Kate into her pants and shoes. “Amy, honey, do you have Helena’s phone number?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Amy said. “I’ll call her.  Where are you going?  I mean, what hospital?”

“New York Presbyterian.” Chris said. “It’s not far.”

“Ok. I’ll call her.”

“Here,” Chris grabbed the pen and notepad out of Kate’s nightstand drawer. He quickly wrote down a number for the car service and another number underneath it. “Call this number and give them this account number.  Send a car for her family, they’re at the Millennium Hilton, and then get one for yourself.  I’ve already got one on the way.” He turned and swept Kate up into his arms.  Scott and Lisa helped steady them as they walked down the stairs.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kate looked around the private birthing suite and sighed.  She had been poked with needles and had an IV in her arm, ready to administer drugs if needed.  They had brought in an ultrasound and had hooked her up to a fetal monitor after taking her for a CT scan.  Chris sat on the bed next to her, holding her hand.  He was the only one allowed in with her right now.

“I just want to go home.” Kate said, laying her head down on Chris’ shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head. “I know, baby.”

Doctor Beauchamp walked into the room and looked at the waiting couple. “Well, the blood in your vomit is from a small tear in the lining of your esophagus. Sometimes this happens with the nausea and vomiting during pregnancy.  It’s manageable if we can control the nausea and get you to eat soft foods for seven to ten days.  What concerns me is the protein in your urine, Kate, and how high your blood pressure is.  We talked about you being preeclamptic and you’re showing enough of the signs right now.”

“So, what’s the plan, Doc?” Chris asked.

“I want you, Kate, to try and make it to 39 weeks.  Right now, you’re still within reason to give birth naturally like you want, so what I’m going to do is keep you here for the next two weeks so we can monitor you, but you’re on strict bedrest.”

“You’re not going to induce?” Kate asked.

“I could and I might even be able to do it more naturally than giving you Pitocin since you’re dilated to one, but I don’t want to and I know you want to avoid the Pitocin at all costs.”

“Yes!”  

“I want Jelly Bean to bake for a little longer, so two weeks here on bedrest. You’re only allowed out of that bed to go to the bathroom and to take very quick showers.  Chris, you may want to go home and pack some of Kate’s stuff. Comfortable, loose fitting clothes, please.”

“You got it.” Chris said. “Anything.”

“Ok. I’m going to go discuss with the nurses everything they need to know and I’ll be back later with a list of some super fun bedrest rules.” Doctor Beauchamp walked out and Kate burst into tears.

“Hey,” Chris pulled Kate to him tightly. “Shh, it’s ok.  It’s only two weeks and then we’ll meet our little Jelly Bean.”

“But there’s so much to get done before then!”

“Ma isn’t going anywhere anytime soon and neither is Scott.  I’m pretty sure your mom isn’t leaving now.  I can call in whoever else we need to get the stuff put together before the baby arrives.”

“But I won’t get to help.”

“I can bring some stuff here for you to work on.”

“I just want to go home.”

“You will.  And when you do, you’ll be holding Jelly Bean.” Chris kissed her sweetly. “I’m going to go let everyone know what’s going on and see if we can have anyone back here besides us.”

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Over the next week, Kate didn’t show much change.  Which wasn’t a bad thing.  She had started to dilate some more, so the doctor was happy that she might even give birth without any help.  Bill and Jan had gone home, but Helena had decided to stay to be there with her daughter.  She and Lisa were staying at the penthouse with Scott.  They Facetimed with Chris and Kate so the couple could help finish decorating the nursery with the furniture they had gotten.  

On her twelfth day there, July 8th, Dr. Beauchamp had decided they didn’t need to wait any longer.  She decided to try the more natural induction of labor by going in and stripping the membranes.  It was extremely painful, and Chris had no idea how that much of the doctor’s arm fit up inside his fiancée, but it was effective.  Kate’s contractions had set in and she went into active labor.  Chris was by her side for every single minute with Lisa and Helena taking turns on Kate’s free side.  Kate labored for fourteen hours before it was finally time to push. Dr. Beauchamp allowed Kate to move around and try to find more comfortable positions to deliver the baby in, but nothing was working.

“Kate, the baby is stuck and going into distress.” Dr. Beauchamp announced. “We need to get this baby out now.  I’m going to have to do a c-section.”

“No.” Kate growled, trying to push again.

“Kate, you need to stop pushing.  This baby isn’t going to come out naturally and you’re only going to hurt yourself and the baby if you keep trying.”

Kate let out a scream as another contraction bore down on her. “I need to push!”

“Kate, your blood pressure is through the roof.  You need to calm down.”

Chris tried soothing Kate, but nothing helped.  Doctor Beauchamp called for the anesthesiologist to meet them in the OR with a spinal tap while she administered an anti-anxiety medicine. Kate was so scared and so worked up that the medicine didn’t have much of an effect.  Chris was made to stay in the room while they got Kate prepped for surgery.  He paced the floor, waiting for them to come get him.  They had told him it wouldn’t take more than ten minutes.  It had now been thirty minutes.  He was about to start kicking doors in when a nurse came to get him.

Kate was strapped down to the OR table with a sheet pinned up as a screen. She was still panicking and gripped his hand tightly.  He whispered comforting words and tried to keep her focus on him.  She kept complaining about how bad her upper back was hurting and she couldn’t get comfortable.  The doctor and nurses begged her to stop writhing, but she was in too much pain. They gave her a booster on her spinal tap and that seemed to do the trick some.  The doctor took advantage to quickly perform the c-section.  Chris stood up to peer over the curtain to see the baby come slithering out of the open wound.  The baby’s cry echoed in the room and Kate closed her eyes in relief.

“It’s a girl!” Doctor Beauchamp announced.

Chris turned to Kate and started to say something, but the words died on his lips as the sound of the alarm on the heart monitor went off.  The nurses came up and told him to leave, but he refused.  He began yelling at them to help Kate and security was brought in to physically remove him from the room.  They took him back to the birthing suite where his mother and Helena were waiting.  They jumped up and he started to sob.

“I don’t know what’s happening!” Chris cried. “They won’t tell me anything. She was in pain and they gave her more drugs and just after the baby was born, her heart rate dropped.”

Tag List

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog

@jamielea81

@southerngracela

@kelbabyblue

@tfandtws

@lovinevans

@ajosieface

@introvertedmouse

@sullyosully

@deidrashouseofpain

@thevelvetseries

[buttercupsfrocks]

What’s on my dressing table? (aka Look at my stuff! Part 1).

Yo, tumblr. It mightn’t surprise you to learn that I’m quite keen on interior design. For some months I’ve been trying to realise some equity on my flat so I can get some work done on it. Starting with some urgent re-pointing of the outside walls. Obviously, not yet being in possession of the requisite funds isn’t the only fly in the ointment just now, but I’m allowing myself to dream about the improvements I’d like to make anyway. To this end I’ve started buying home decor magazines again, but find myself increasingly underwhelmed. I know it’s not just me. They really are duller and blander than they used to be. I have a folder full of cuttings from the first (and last) time I did up the place in the 90s, and there was so much more individuality in evidence. There was definitely a whole lot more colour. It’s the same with estate agents’ websites; I’m so bone weary of understated pearl grey show-homes I could boak. 

I blame the wave of interior design TV shows that proliferated in the noughties. Stuff like The House Doctor which, in ordering sellers to kennel their pets, stick all their belongings in the attic, and paint everything magnolia if they wanted to make a killing, created a generation of entitled, unimaginative buyers who expect every house they look at to be neutral, immaculate and devoid of the previous owner’s personality from the get-go. Time was, unless you were minted, you expected any place you could just  about afford to buy to be a minging fixer-upper by default. I watched a Netflix series not long ago in which a Canadian realtor found properties for a succession of single women and I could not believe how many of them bellyached that the kitchen didn’t have marble worktops and stainless steel appliances. Like, how about you save your pennies, like a fucking grownup, and buy your own when you’ve moved in! Jesus, I once viewed a flat that had brown suedette walls with a collection of German spiked military helmets mounted on them, but that wasn’t the reason I didn’t buy it; I simply didn’t like the layout or the hefty service charge. 

Like those snide gits who comment on one’s “brave “fashion choices, these  gumptionless dullards are guaranteed to look around a home like mine and say, “But what about when you want to sell? Aren’t you worried that your taste will put people off?” I’m not worried about it, mate, more depressed and resigned, but hey, that’s what paint’s for. In the mean time I plan to live here for the foreseeable future and I’d rather live with my taste than yours, not least since you have none. 

*and relax*

So my lovely blogger friend Veronica mentioned that she was doing a What’s On Your Dressing Table? post, and did I fancy doing one, and I thought why the devil not? So to kick off I’ll start by saying I don’t actually like my dressing table very much. Firstly because I used to have a really gorgeous 1930s one, which I was forced to give away when I moved because it was too big for the space. 

(My late dressing table. I can’t believe how little stuff there is on it!)

The other reason I hate my current one is that I didn’t reserve the most perfect - and reasonably priced - Arts and Crafts one I saw first. And I totally could have because the dealers were family friends who would absolutely have agreed to reserve it for the fifteen minutes it took me to get home and measure up. Although I rang them as soon as I had, some geezer had literally walked in off the street and nabbed it five minutes after I left. And because I urgently needed a small, preferably vintage, oak dressing table that would fit, I ended up buying this one. It’s crudely made, had been ravaged by woodworm, and more importantly, wasn’t the other one. To add insult to injury the mirror’s now bust; Not the glass but the bit that holds it together. But anyway...

...this tin, in which I keep necklaces, once contained Sharp’s toffees and came from the Jubilee Market in Covent Garden on antiques day. It looks 30s but it’s a suspiciously 50s palette so I’ve never been quite sure about its age. It was the first present I bought the flat when I moved in because the previous owner really loved baby blue and pastel pink. Because it’s quite shallow it hung on my bathroom wall for a couple of years like a decorative plate, where it looked very fetching with my turquoise bathroom suite. The only thing, incidentally, about the flat’s original decor, which I loved and happily kept.

As you can see, there’s a lot of perspex on my dressing table, and what isn’t perspex is glass. The moulded glass tray was a couple of quid from a chazza, as was the lidded dish, in which I keep my collection of Murano glass rings. 

Most of these came from charity shops too, as did the little china bird.

All my plastic bangles are on a chest of drawers opposite the bed. Only the metal ones live here. The little ceramic ring dish was made by my friend Steve, as was the little blue one on the other side of the dressing table. The perspex box contains Les Néréides brooches and necklaces, all scored in sample or flash sales over the past ten years or so. I bought the blue and gold ceramic brooch on a work trip to Loughborough. I regret I can’t remember the artist’s name and the only clue are the initials B.B on the reverse. My friend Graham bought me the horseshoe bolo tie back in the 80s. Of all the items on my dressing table it’s the oldest and I love that I’m still wearing it. You can just see this little enamel pin leaning against the mirror at the back.

It was the last prezzie my late BFF, Jane, ever sent me so it’s particularly dear to my heart. I will put it in a frame if I ever find one small enough.

This handsome devil is Boz, my first spectacularly handsome and dignified ginger boy. Get a load of the hideous sponged pink walls in the background. It was like sleeping in a summer pudding. Not for nothing was this flat known as Pink And Blue Hell when I first moved in. 

More Les Néréides sample sale bargains. I bought the box in a chazza. The plastic rings are stacked on a cut-out perspex hand. Here’s a close-up of the box on the right, which was a gift from my friend Sarah, who knows I like an aquatically themed item. It looks very much like the 1940s brooches allegedly made from the windows of ex-war planes so I’ve always assumed it was of a similar vintage. It came from the Battersea Antiques Fair many moons ago. There’s yet more plastic bits and bobs inside it.

I love this coaster which was a present from Jayne, my friend in Hastings. There’s another on the chest of drawers beside my bed, which reads “always time for a cuppa”. So true, I find.

Here’s a close up of the detail on the lid of my favourite tin, which cost me a whole 20 pence off a stall at the Hanwell Carnival in the early 90s. Like the toffee tin it contains necklaces.

There are other necklaces in the vicinity. The hook these are hanging on came from the World’s Loveliest Gift Shop (RIP).

Well, that’s pretty much it for the dressing table. Though I wanted to share this chap with you since he lives in my bedroom too...

My Staffordshire ginge! I found him in a Hastings junk shop last summer and he cost me a whole fiver. He’s since been authenticated by an antique dealer friend. I absolutely love him.

Stay tuned for a post about my china cabinet. 

Toodles!

[penpatronuswhump]

Whumptober No. 16

Theme: Pinned Down      

Fandom: Avengers

Whumpee(s): Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Caregiver(s): Bruce Banner  

 Quaked

PenPatronus

 “I thought you weren’t the Da Vinci of our times because you don’t paint!” a voice called.

 Tony, who thought he was alone in the compound’s rear warehouse, jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. He almost whirled around but, in the interest of safety, calmly and carefully descended the long ladder that stretched almost a story in the air to the highest steel grated shelf where he kept his collection of Jackson Pollock paintings. “I didn’t paint those,” he said once he descended. “You uncivilized goon.”

 Steve chuckled. He wore sneakers, jeans, and a blue t-shirt. Tony wore almost the same except for a flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Cap pointed up at the visible paintings. “Shimmering Substance, 1946. The Deep, 1953. Greyed Rainbow, also 1953.”

 “Didn’t know you were so into art,” said Tony. “Thought you were just a brainless soldier,” he continued with a slight mile. “Also didn’t know you’d listened to every single interview I’ve ever done—ever.”

 “Didn’t know you were so into art.”

 “Pepper is. I bought all these back in the old days to… Impress her. Didn’t even realize I was doing it at the time.”

 “Why do you have all of those if you don’t even display them,” Steve wondered. “You just keep them in this warehouse of rusty spare parts gathering dust?”

 Tony shrugged and looked around. “Have some of my dad’s old toys around here. Inventions half-invented. Couple of these rusty spare parts made you.”

 Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “Could I see them?”

 “Not much to see. A few gears. A few rivets. Couldn’t exactly walk out of the lab with more than a few small gizmos.” Tony led the way to the far side of the warehouse, climbed up another ladder, then descended with a crumpled, dirty old brown box. Steve reached in and picked out a rusty nail, held it between his fingers, examined the craftsmanship, wondered what it held together.

 “Keep it.”

 Steve met Tony’s eyes. “I couldn’t. It’s your dad’s.”

 Tony gestured around the complex. “I have plenty of my dad’s junk. Keep the nail, Steve.”

 Cap pocketed it. “Thanks.” They walked side by side back to the paintings. “I interrupted you. What are you up to?”

 Tony looked up at the row of paintings. “Think I’ll sell them all. They are just gathering dust. They should be enjoyed. And the money is needed.”

 One of Steve’s eyebrows lifted. “Tony Stark in need of money? Aren’t you the richest guy in history?”

 “Not for me,” Tony laughed. “Not even for us. Got an idea. The Stark Relief Foundation. It’ll step in during crises… Help the local first responders and authorities… Cleanup, help get people back up on their feet, pay for rebuilding…”

 “Crisis from, what? A hurricane or something?”

 “From us. The Avengers. When we make a… A mess.”

 “Oh.” Steve looked up at the paintings and pretended to examine them closely. “It’s not our fault when there’s a… Mess.”

 “I know. It’s just… After New York… After all these little skirmishes with arms dealers. What if Hulk goes on a rampage again? What if more aliens come? When we fight there’s always collateral damage. I want to start putting money aside for that.”

 Steve looked at his friend. He examined him like a painting. “I think that’s a good idea.”

 Stark chuckled. “Glad you approve.”

 “I do.” Steve dipped his head to the side. “That’s thoughtful, Tony.”

 “Yeah, well, I’ve made so many messes in my life it’s about time I start to clean some of that up,” Tony said. Steve opened his mouth to confront that statement, but Tony continued speaking. “You need something? Did you come looking for me?”

 “Yeah…” Steve put his fists in his pants pockets and lowered his eyes. “Nothing important. Just heard you were on base.”

 “On base? I like to think of the compound as a home, don’t you?”

 “Well—”

 “Do you need a harder bed? I’ll get you a harder bed. I’m having a pool put in next week—”

 The earthquake hit out of nowhere—not that earthquakes ever happen out of anything but nowhere. The two Avengers were probably in the worst spot possible on the compound: standing between 1-story tall steel shelves packed with metal pipes, engines, shards of metal, and more. The pair shared a brief wide-eyed look, then Steve grabbed Tony by the shoulders, shoved him to the ground, rolled his friend into a fetal position, and braced his body over his.

 Everything but the ceiling fell in those few seconds. The shelves sank one after the other, toppling like dominoes. The weight of it all would’ve squished Tony. It would’ve broken his bones, those bones would’ve punctured his every organ, and all that would be left of him would be pieces on the ground. He’d be dead, if not for the super soldier protecting him. Steve formed a perfect roof. He took all of the weight, absorbed anything sharp, and managed to stay conscious because if—if he passed out—then Tony would die, too.

 Bruce, Nat, Clint, and Thor sprinted to the warehouse with Maria Hill and 50 SHIELD agents. They stopped short just inside the door. The debris was still settling and looked as fragile as it was. One corner of the ceiling was drooping, and the whole place echoed with the sound of sprockets and screws still bouncing off the floor.

 Clint took Nat’s hand. Bruce approached the edge of the debris and called out, “Tony!”

 “Captain?” Thor shouted. “Steve!”

 “TONY!”

 Clint heard the sound first—a voice, not scraping or dinging. He hissed at the others to shut up and they all obeyed. “We’re here!” came a gasping voice. “We’re over here!”

 Hawkeye pointed to their left at about the 10:00 position. “There.”

 Bruce waded into the debris and started tossing stuff aside. Thor scooted out in front of him and joined in. Everyone followed their lead and within ten minutes they could see the blue of Steve’s shirt. “Steve, you ok?” Natasha asked when she was sure that he would be able to hear her.

 “He’s not ok,” came Tony’s voice. “He’s very much not ok. That’s not water raining down on me.”

 “Raining?”

 “Hurry,” Tony said.

 Then, Steve growled, obviously in pain and straining, “Hurry.”

 The moment Clint and Bruce pulled Tony by the wrists out from under Steve’s protection, the captain collapsed facedown and didn’t move. He was skewered through the thigh by a lengthy shard of glass that had nicked Tony’s leg, as well. Hundreds of pounds of steel and aluminum and titanium had piled on top of his back. The fact that he’d protected Tony from all of that stunned the onlookers. Thor shouldered the debris off Cap who let out a long exhale and started coughing.

 The six Avengers hurried to the infirmary with Steve in Thor’s arms and Tony carried between Bruce and Clint.

 Hours later, Tony woke up in the sickbay to find Bruce sitting at his side. “Is he all right?” Tony grunted.

 Bruce snorted. “Those were his first words when he woke up.” He nodded at the next bed over. Steve was watching them silently. He was bandaged up all over. A cast wrapped around his left arm. He reached out his right arm, then, and Tony reached out his left. The two friends grasped hands and in that moment, each knew the other would be ok.

 The End

 ***Check out my Avengers stories on FanFiction.net (PenPatronus) or Archive Of Our Own (PenPatronusAooO)***

[lonelypond]

Au Yeah August: NicoWinko

Love Live, NicoMaki 1.3K

Summay: Top Idol NicoNi heads out for an anonymous day in Tokyo. How will her fans react? How fast will the social media mentions happen?

#NICOWINKO

THE REAL NICO @NicoNi 9:15 a.m.

Nico Ni is so famous she can’t go anywhere without SO MANY fans screaming ＼＼\\୧( ⁼̴̶̤̀ω⁼̴̶̤́ )૭ //／／

###

@NicoNi 9:16 a.m. 32 or you don’t come home

@NozyItAll 9:18 a.m. Fuck you

@NicoNi 9:19 a.m. (∩╹□╹∩) Language

@NozyItAll 9:22 a.m. (ﾉ｀□´)ﾉ⌒┻━┻

###

THE REAL NICO @NicoNi 9:40 a.m. NicoNi’s schedule is super busy today, too busy for autographs. So if you see Nico in Tokyo, just wink. #NicoWinko

Hand Me My Panda @redhotcute2x 10:01 a.m. OMG OMG OMG #NicoNi

Nico Is My Waifu No More @bouncebaby Hey fam, just saw #NicoNi, but she wouldn’t Nico Nico Ni for me. #niconipartyisover #lame #loser

THE REAL NICO @NicoNi 10:48 a.m. So where does the cutest Idol in the Universe eat brunch? Can you spot Nico? #NicoWinko

###

@NicoNi 10:49 a.m. CHEATING

@NozyItAll 10:50 a.m. Nope

###

Ally My Pretty Ponies @strangerdanger43 11:21 a.m. #NicoNi was just eating a disgusting pile of calories. She’s going to be SO fat.

TomokoPop @tomokopop 11:32 a.m. #NicoNi signed my menu after I spotted her in her disguise. It’s so cute. THE BUNNY EARS ､., ⌒ ､., ⌒ ､., ⌒ ､., ⌒ ､., ⌒ ､., ⌒￣(=∵=)￣ #NicoWinko

Ryko @RckKyttn 12:09 p.m. i think that fuckin #niconi mouthbreather just shoved me into traffic what a beyatch

KpoppinQueen @kewpie9000 12:38 p.m. Didn’t know #NicoNi had any taste at all. Just saw her in JINS

Nao’s Mum @pinkpursepuppy5 1:10 p.m. Celebrities are in super shopping mode today. Just saw #NicoNi in the crowd. She is so tiny.

###

@NicoNi 1:11 p.m. You’re so tiny, especially in the breastage ; P

@NozyItAll 1:12 p.m. FUCK OFF 凸( •̀_•́ )凸

@NicoNi 1:13 p.m. How are you ever going to get a date?

@NozyItAll 1:14 p.m. Nico does a’ight

@NicoNi 1:16 p.m. Can I quote you on that?

@NozyItAll 1:17 p.m. (눈_눈)

###

Carly Roy @songburger78 1:19 p.m. #NICONI SAID FUCK LIKE 5000 TIMES AND IT’S MY NEW RINGTONE

Mayu @mayuaboutyou__ 1:28 p.m. Just saw #NicoNi at #IronCoffee; her affogato was as tall as she was (o>艸<)

Man of Mystery @notyourfriendx 1:29 p.m. #NicoNi paid for everyone’s drink at #IronCoffee. SHE”S THE COOLEST!

###

@NozyItAll 1:35 p.m. Nico’s the coolest (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

@NicoNi 1:36 p.m. Still can’t get a date

@NozyItAll 1:40 p.m. Harass Eli

@NicoNi 1:41 p.m. She’s at rehearsal. SO I”M BORED. And you’re still a virgin.

@NozyItAll 1:44 p.m. DELETE THAT

@NicoNi 1:45 p.m. It’s a DM; calm down.

@NozyItAll 1:46 p.m. DELETE THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

###

SamaraGrey @samuraicheesewhiz 1:49 p.m. I THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY BUT #NICONI WAS IN AN ALLEY CURSING SOMEBODY OUT OVER HER PHONE. She looked like she was going to explode ( #`⌂´)/┌┛

Ai @realorlost20now 2:32 p.m. Was going to be depressed and buy the boring boy shoes but #NicoNi frowned and pointed at the cutest pinkest girliest glittery kicks on the planet and I have never felt so SEEN. THANK YOU NICO NI! #NicoNiisanangel

RandomPanda @randompandemonium 2:41 p.m. I saw this girl who looked like #niconi but SO MUCH CUTER ｡;+*(★`∪´☆)*+;｡ like I almost asked for her number #coward #socute #dateme #saveme

###

@NicoNi 2:43 p.m. Probably wasn’t even you.

@NozyItAll 2:48 p.m. Of course it was And it still counts

###

Tai @dozydumpling 3:50 p.m. They played #NicoFukkinNi’s Kiss-O-Gram all through lunch at my best ramen shop; turns out she was there. I asked for a refund. #kaching

###

@NozyItAll 3:55 p.m. Counting it 14

@NicoNi 3:56 p.m. Not even halfway yet tsk tsk, Nico-chi

@NozyItAll 3:57 p.m. Bite me

###

Saki @sakuraspringsteen 4:30 p.m. #NICONI’S LIPS are so SWOON-WORTHY. I was soooooo close. She was soooooooo pretty. She couldn’t decide between Pinkerton and Pash Plum and she asked me then SHE KISSED MY SHIRT COLLAR #neverwashingthisshirt #NicoWinko

Saki @sakuraspringsteen 4:32 p.m. I bought Pinketon too. Just like #NicoNi

DynaBo @robotwaifus4all z 4:48 p.m. wHy Do ceLebrIteS eVeN bREaThe??? #nIcOnI’s shoPiNg eVEryBodies a bRAindEad zOMbu bOdeE #cELeBriTYsUcK

Jas @jaycute4life 5:15 p.m. #NicoNi’s a fuckin’ SuperDude, walks into a store in one outfit waks out in another with glasses.

KalKata @nohomenofouls 5:31 p.m. @jaycute4life So whAt’s #niconi’s superpower

Jas @jaycute4life 5:36 p.m. @nohomenofouls HOTNESS obv cause that vOicE (x_x☆ wish I’d had xray vision dude

Eun-Yeong @kimcheecuteee 6:02 p.m. Just saw BLINGY pink sunglasses the size of a chihauaha. Was that #NicoNi? #nicono #justno

Yuki @streetsmartz17 6:40 p.m. My first sighting of the new FUMIKA_UCHIDA collection and it’s on #NicoNi #impressed #tokyofashion Yuki @streetsmartz17 0 6:41 p.m. #NicoNi we love you but lose the glasses

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@NicoNi 6:42 p.m. Next time, only 1 #NicoNi per account

@NozyItAll 6:47 p.m. Not fair; Nico’s fans are loyal

@NicoNi 6:49 p.m. “That voice” *giggles*

@NozyItAll 6:50 p.m. Nico would bet you her new Hermès' bag x-ray vision dude plays her album aaaallllllll night *rolls eyes*

@NicoNi 6:52 p.m. Probably. And gross.

@NozyItAll 6:53 p.m. Nico knows （－－；

@NozyItAll 6:54 p.m. Anyway, Nico’s headed to a gallery where classy people will be all over Nico and Nico’s social media mentions and then Nico can go home and soak in a tub

@NicoNi 6:55 p.m. What gallery?

@NozyItAll 6:57 p.m. Ima

@NicoNi 6:58 p.m. That crowd would die before admitting they know who you are; you won’t get home ‘til 4 a.m

@NozyItAll 6:59 p.m. Two hours tops

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P Ohm @camerashyne 7:02 p.m. #MakiNishikino’s #SonodaSeries is P E R F E C T...dream mix of haiku and dreamfuel images these two artists so click but did i see #NicoNi lurking wtf with those glasses

Taj @bandw4ev 7:05 p.m. It’s night LOSER take off the glasses #NicoNi #solame #Ihatepink #sonodaseries

F.K.M. @hispeedhorror 7:10 p.m. Now #NicoNi #hack just told #TheNishikino #genius her snaps could only be better if Nico were in them what an ego #whatanass #nicono #sonodaseries #wtfglasses

Bull Dunham @maplesyrupthorpe 7:12 p.m. #THENISHIKINO JUST MURDERED #NICONI WITH A LOOK™️ #SONODASERIES

AKARI @AKAR13 7:15 P.M. THE BODY: NICONI MY GUESS: #MAKINISHIKINO IN THE GALLERY WITH A LOOK™️ #slayed #sonodaseries

Seo Yuzuki @grizzlylorelei 7:18 p.m #niconi’s next single is IM DED DUDES

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@NicoNi 7:19 p.m. You’re killing it

@NicoNi 7:19 p.m. Oh wait

@NicoNi 7:20 p.m. That wasn’t you...cuz you DED DUDE (o>艸<)

@NozyItAll 7:22 p.m. Shut it, Nico is #searching

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Hiro @tophatredtielasertag 7:38 p.m. Does #NicoNi even know how important #MakiNishikino’s homeless #LGBTQ teen pics are? #idiot #airhead #wtfglasses #sonodaseries

Gwennifer Green @bunburyallnight 8:02 p.m. OMG they just announced the entire #sonodaseries has been purchased by an anonymous buyer with an additional 20 million yen donation to #TheNishikino’s charity

And on a bitchy note, WTF with the glasses #NicoNi #wtfglasses #whyareyouevenhere

Fumi @blazerbeyatch 8:15 p.m. How RUDE #NicoNi just brushed by #THENISHIKINO, ignoring her. Does she even know who Maki is? #whatarube #wtfglasses #sonodaseries

Tsuruko @flamncoopetals 8:19 p.m. *SQUEALS* #NicoNi has #MakiNishikino pinned against a tree K.I.S.S.I.N.G. #wtftongue

Tojo Nozomi @NozyItAll 8:20 p.m. #NicoNi losing her cherry outside the IMA gallery. Is she still wearing the glasses? TAKE SOME PICS #kthanxbye #sonodaseries #youknowIloveyou

@NicoNi has blocked @NozyItAll 8:31 p.m.