#but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it

[elizabeth-holland24]

Snow In at the Country Inn-Chapter 2

The snowstorm howled outside, a relentless wind battering against the hotel windows as Jake and the woman stood frozen in the doorway of their suite. It was a massive, luxurious room, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the white-blanketed wilderness. But their attention wasn’t on the grandeur. No, their focus was on the sheer romance of the setup: a king-sized bed dressed in plush white linens, rose petals scattered across it, and a bottle of champagne chilling on ice by the window.

“Uh…” Jake said, his lips twitching as he suppressed a smirk. “This is… something.”

She crossed her arms, trying to mask her discomfort. “This has to be a mistake. Maybe they gave us the wrong room.”

Jake leaned against the doorway, his frame casual but his green eyes alight with amusement. “Might wanna call and check. Although, I have to say, honeymoon vibes really suit us.”

She shot him a sharp glance but pulled out her phone and dialled the front desk. Ten minutes later, after a frustrating call and a resigned sigh, she hung up. “No mistake. And no other rooms. They’re fully booked because of the storm.”

Jake gestured to the bed with a dramatic sweep of his arm, a grin tugging at his lips. “So, what you’re saying is… we’re stuck with this. Romantic, huh?”

Ignoring him, she set her suitcase on the chaise lounge, muttering under her breath. "This is so ridiculous."

Jake gave her a look of mock sympathy, his smirk widening. “Guess we’ll have to make the best of it. You don’t snore, do you?”

She shot him a glare that could’ve melted ice. “You’re sleeping on the floor.”

“That’s… negotiable,” he replied, plopping his bag down near the bed.

Ignoring him, she set her suitcase on the chaise lounge and began unpacking. The suite truly was beautiful, with its elegant décor, a bottle of champagne chilling on ice, and even rose petals scattered across the bed. Romantic honeymoon vibes indeed. She cringed inwardly at how absurd the situation was.

“You know,” Jake started, his tone light but laced with mischief, “if we’re gonna share a room, maybe we should get to know each other. You know, break the ice. Make this less… awkward.”

She glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. “And how do you propose we do that?”

He shrugged, his grin never faltering. “We play twenty questions. Or we share some fun facts. Or I can just guess everything about you because I’m exceptionally good at reading people.”

She rolled her eyes and continued organizing her things. “I’m fine with awkward silence.”

“See?” he quipped. “That right there. You’re uptight. You gotta loosen up. It’s the holidays, Snowflake. Enjoy yourself for once.”

Her hands froze, and she turned to glare at him. “‘Uptight’?”

Jake grinned, unrepentant. “I said what I said.”

Her lips twitched, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a smile. Instead, she perched on the chaise, arms crossed. “Fine. One question. Make it good.”

Jake’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. He sprawled on the bed, propped up on one elbow. “Alright. What’s the most reckless thing you’ve ever done?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “That’s personal.”

“Exactly the point,” he countered, his gaze steady. “Come on, it’s just us here. Safe space and all that.”

She hesitated, then relented with a sigh. “When I was sixteen, I went bungee jumping off a bridge in Costa Rica. Didn’t tell my parents. They would’ve killed me.”

Jake’s grin widened. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Reckless and adventurous. I like it.”

“Your turn,” she said quickly, eager to shift the focus. “Same question.”

“Easy,” he replied, his tone suddenly more serious. “I joined the Navy at eighteen. No backup plan. Just jumped in, sink or swim.”

Her gaze softened for a moment. “And you swam.”

“Still swimming,” he said with a wink, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “Alright, your turn again.”

They went back and forth, the questions growing more personal until Jake asked softly, "What about your mom? Is she proud of all the places you've been?"

Her expression shifted, a shadow crossing her features as she stiffened. "She passed away when I was eighteen," she said, her tone clipped. The warmth that had been building between them evaporated instantly. "It’s late. We should rest."

Jake leaned back slightly, reading the sudden tension in her body language. "I didn’t mean to—"

"It’s fine," she cut him off, her voice tight. She turned away, busying herself with her suitcase. "Goodnight."

Jake exhaled slowly, guilt evident in his expression. "Goodnight," he murmured. The air between them was heavy, the earlier camaraderie frayed by the unintentional wound his question had reopened.

She stood abruptly. "I’m tired. I’m going to shower and change."

Jake watched her retreat to the bathroom, resisting the urge to call after her. She was a puzzle, and for the first time that evening, he wondered if she wanted to be pieced together at all.

Inside the bathroom, she cursed herself. Her pajamas were far from appropriate for this situation—a tank top and shorts that left little to the imagination. She grabbed them anyway, determined to make it work. When she stepped out, she held her bundle of clothes close to her chest. “Cover your eyes while I get to the bed.”

Jake’s laugh was low and teasing. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Seriously.”

He sighed dramatically but covered his eyes with one hand. “Scout’s honor.”

She darted to the bed, quick as a rabbit, but caught the glint of his green eyes peeking through his fingers. “Jake!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence. “I’m just making sure you didn’t trip.”

Her glare was withering. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he shot back, grabbing his own clothes. He changed quickly, stripping down to joggers. She couldn’t help the way her eyes lingered on his broad chest, the defined muscles stark against his tan skin.

“See something you like?” he teased, catching her stare.

She turned crimson. “I was looking at the floor.”

“Sure you were,” he said with a chuckle, moving toward the bed.

“Nope,” she said, holding up a hand. “You’re sleeping on the floor.”

He groaned but relented, grabbing a spare blanket and pillow. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

The room fell silent, save for the storm outside. She lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. She’d never liked storms, the howling wind and icy isolation unnerving her. She pulled the blankets tighter, trying to shake the unease.

Jake, lying on the floor, wasn’t oblivious. He’d spent years reading people, and he could feel her tension radiating in waves. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the darkness. “You okay?”

She hesitated. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t buy it. “Listen, if you’re scared, you can just say so. I’ll come up there. For my sake, of course. Can’t have you being scared and keeping me up all night.”

She rolled her eyes but shifted over, making room. “Fine. Just… don’t hog the covers.”

Jake climbed into bed, lying on his back. “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

She didn’t respond, but the steady rhythm of his breathing soon lulled her into an uneasy sleep. When morning came, she woke to find herself curled against him, her head on his chest, his arm draped protectively around her. Mortified, she carefully untangled herself and slipped out of bed.

Jake’s lips twitched as he watched her tiptoe away, his eyes cracking open. He’d been awake for hours, but he didn’t mind. Letting her think she’d escaped unnoticed was all part of the fun.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the snow-covered town below. She wrapped herself in a thick cardigan, the chill in the air still lingering from the storm the night before. After a restless night, she decided that breakfast might help clear her head and shake off the lingering awkwardness from the night spent in Jake's company.

The inn’s dining area smelled of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries. She scanned the room, spotting an open table near the fireplace. As she moved to claim it, a pair of voices caught her attention.

“You have got to be kidding me, Rooster. Who eats pancakes like that?”

“What’s wrong with syrup on the side?” the man—Rooster—shot back, a teasing grin on his face.

She hesitated, intrigued by their banter. Deciding she didn’t want to eat alone, she approached their table. “Mind if I join?” she asked, her tone friendly but tentative.

The woman, Natasha, looked up and smiled. “Of course not. You’ll be a welcome distraction from his terrible eating habits.”

Rooster scoffed, offering a hand as she sat down. “Bradley Bradshaw. Everyone calls me Rooster.”

“Natasha Trace,” the woman added. “And you are?”

She introduced herself, explaining she was stranded in town due to the snowstorm. Rooster nodded, launching into a story about how he and Natasha had detoured here during a cross-country trip. Their easy camaraderie made her feel instantly at ease.

As the conversation flowed, the dining area door creaked open, and Jake’s unmistakable presence filled the room. He sauntered in, looking infuriatingly relaxed, his hair slightly tousled from sleep. Spotting her, he grinned and made a beeline for their table.

“Morning, Snowflake,” he greeted, sliding into the seat beside her without waiting for an invitation.

Rooster raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Snowflake? That’s cute. You two married or just engaged?”

She choked on her coffee, her cheeks burning. “What? No! We’re not—”

Jake cut her off, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Aw, Snowflake, don’t deny our love story. You’ll break my heart.”

Her glare could have melted the snow outside. “Jake.”

Natasha and Rooster exchanged amused looks, clearly enjoying the show. “Newlyweds, huh? Explains the chemistry,” Natasha teased.

“No!” she and Jake said in unison, though his tone carried more mock offence than denial. The laughter that followed set the tone for the rest of breakfast, with Rooster and Natasha’s playful teasing making her simultaneously flustered and amused.

After breakfast, she decided to explore the town. The storm had turned the streets into a picturesque winter wonderland, with snow-covered rooftops and icicles glinting in the sun. Her wanderings led her to a small café, where she spotted Penny and a man she instantly recognized as Pete "Maverick" Mitchell. They were standing outside, deep in conversation, their expressions tense.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she approached. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

Penny looked up, a mix of surprise and relief on her face. “Oh, hi! Not exactly. The town’s big Christmas Eve festival is in trouble. The storm’s blocked all the roads, so no deliveries, no performers, no decorations. It’s a mess.”

Pete sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’ve tried calling around, but it’s looking like we’ll have to cancel. Everyone’s pretty heartbroken.”

She frowned, thinking back to the events she’d planned in the past. “Cancelling isn’t the only option. Maybe we can work with what’s here. I have some experience planning events. I’d be happy to help.”

Penny’s eyes lit up. “Are you serious? You’d do that?”

“Of course. I’m stranded here anyway. Might as well put myself to use.”

Pete and Penny exchanged hopeful looks before Penny nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Jake found her later in the town square, where she was sketching out ideas with Penny and Pete. A small group of locals had already gathered, taking her directions as she began organizing tasks. He leaned against a lamppost, watching with an amused expression.

“Snowflake, you never cease to surprise me,” he called out.

She didn’t look up from her notes. “Jake, either help or stop standing there smirking.”

“Alright, boss,” he said, pushing off the post. “Put me to work.”

Despite his usual cheekiness, Jake proved to be a valuable asset. Whether it was lifting heavy decorations or charming the locals into donating supplies, he threw himself into the tasks with surprising enthusiasm. She couldn’t help but admire how he managed to bring levity to the chaotic planning process.

By evening, the square was a flurry of activity. Though far from finished, the progress was undeniable. Strings of fairy lights twinkled against the snow, and a few makeshift booths were already taking shape. The sense of community was palpable, with townsfolk pitching in wherever they could.

Jake found her standing near the centre of the square, surveying the scene with a mix of pride and exhaustion. “Not bad, Snowflake,” he said, handing her a cup of hot chocolate. “Think you’ll save Christmas?”

She took the cup, her fingers brushing his briefly. “One step at a time,” she replied. “There’s still a lot to do.”

“Good thing we’re stuck here together, then,” he said, his tone softer than usual.

For a moment, they stood in companionable silence, watching the townsfolk work together to transform the square. The snow continued to fall lightly, adding a touch of magic to the scene. Though they had a long way to go, she couldn’t help but feel hopeful—not just for the festival, but for the unexpected connections she’d found in this snowbound town. Maybe Santa was right after all, this place does feel magical. 

A/N: This is my gift to all of you for youre support and love to this idea of mine. It is a pretty long chapter but yeah, I love it so much. Did I stayed till 4 am writting this chapter as well as the other two chapters for The Beast Within, I pledge the fifth. It also funny to me how I have two completly diffrent vibes. In this one is all fun and love and the other one I left you hanging with Jake dying. I propably wont write anything till after new year so happy new year to all of you and thank you so much for youre support. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog, so I know if you are enjoying it. Please do tell me your thoughts on the story.  Love you guys and thanks for reading  <3

[amagicalmoonlight]

I Want It All - WIP Animatic?? PMV???

This song has been HAUNTING ME because it reminds me so much of Orchid and Navy (and Purple too) and I just HAD to share my vision. Also idk if to make it part of my au or keep it canon compliant we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,,

[austinfoster]

*kisses your forehead* We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

@caspiankhoran *sitting at the front of the bus when you wake up, on my phone*

[euphorial-docx]

no because i’m looking into my college’s political science degree requirements and i can take philosophy instead of math. hallelujah!

[dagaan]

Chapter 6 of The Eel is now out over here!

[thatonegayspacerock]

Part 2 electric boogaloo: this time with a little more fox details bc it was lowk bugging me that the fox elements was just the tails

"I'm already here; I've always been here~"

To see you.

[lila-rae]

I am never more thankful that we didn’t have multiples than after being in a room with a gaggle of 8 year old girls. I could not handle even two 8️⃣s

[phoenixtakaramono]

Truce - Ch3 Preview 2/?

This is in reference to this. I’m agog that I’d somehow forgotten to share this upcoming scene in Truce its entirety—when I thought I had. Honest mistake, luvs. I shall rectify it immediately.

A snippet of my favorite part from this lil interview section:

“Not to worry. Between you and me”—the chair creaked as he leaned in, lips quirked sideways, his brows expressive, and his hand hovering beside his cheek—“Butcher and I got a secret bromance happening behind the scenes, I tell you what.” The discreet Lavalier microphone clipped somewhere on Homelander’s supersuit had picked up the hushed whisper, making the audio crisp and clear. Thirteen different camera angles captured Jimmy’s brows shooting up. He repeated, “A bromance.” “Yep. A bromance for the ages. Color me stoked.” The plastic shell of his features melted away, resembling a more complete flesh-and-blood human. Easing back into his seat, Homelander said, “I just think, like with any large and aggressive attack dogs, as owners we have a responsibility to properly train and socialize them. Now I don’t own a dog myself but if I did, I would keep my mutt on a short leash—and obedient only to me. He won’t bite, not unless I tell him to.”

The full scene the snippet belongs to:

A/N - I’m sure y’all remember Jimmy Fallon’s cameo in S1. It only makes sense to replace Translucent with Homelander now. I originally considered Cole Cameron to ask the hard hitting questions, but he dies in S4 (thanks, Ashley). So I elected to not go with him.

And the line about Butcher not being caped but quite clearly dark is lifted from the comics, as a lil Easter egg ;) but I changed it from Black Noir to Billy because Homelander’s doubling down on the lie/ cover story that he’s the one who “reached out his hand and brought Billy back from the path of villainy by inviting him into the Seven” 🙄

*Note: as always, keep in mind this is taken from an earlier draft; so there may be a couple changes in the final draft that’ll be posted to AO3 when the chapter’s ready. But this sneak peek is pretty much as close to its final draft iteration as you'll see.

(Chapters 1-2 can be read on AO3)

[sleepiestslooth]

hiii new followers from twitter i made noodle family in the sims recently

mei and redson are coming soon

[spooky-salesman]

Spoon feeding y’all a semi early October treat

[extra-joker-mush]

barbara kean they don’t deserve you….i could love you forever r

[mintmentos]

I’ve finished knitting my jumper!!! All that’s left to do is seam it I’m so excited!!!

[delightfuldevin]

So, I’ve decided on a system for classifying ghosts!

Elemental type ghosts are ghosts that possess an element. Their bodies are made entirely of the element they possess. Examples include Lava Bubbles, Magmaarghs, and Freezies:

They can possess any element, though fire appears to be the most common.

Illusion type ghosts are ghosts that don’t possess a vessel, simply appearing as they already are. Examples include Boos and Bonneters, as well as the many ghosts that appear in Luigi’s Mansion:

The final class, the physical type, is ghosts that possess a physical body. While anything could be a potential vessel (for example, the piano from Super Mario 64), this class is mostly made of recently deceased ghosts who possess their old bodies. Examples include the many skeletal creatures like Dry Bones and Fish Bones:

All three classes are made up of both ghosts that were once living beings and ghosts that are “born” as ghosts.

With that in mind, I wanna talk about the Tostarenans and Chinchos.

Chinchos appear to be undead Tostarenans despite Tostarenans themselves already being undead. So I’m thinking the Chinchos are the illusion form of the Tostarenans, meaning them without a body to possess. And they get aggressive when they don’t have their body. Not all ghosts are like this, in fact the Tostarenans might be the only ones like this. I’m sure I’ll figure out a lore reason for why they become hostile when they lose their bodies…

[crossbackpoke-check]

i swear i am going to finish dewey2 p2 if it kills me HOWEVER!! i cannot publish it on ao3 with the placeholder document title which is. as stated. dewey^2 p2. please answer this poll for science and my sanity

[a-ikuoliver]

i fucking love driving inland

[nyadversary]

hey real quick look at my knitting project

mosaic knitting using two variegated yarns. Obsessed. i started this like a week ago i can’t wait to finish it