#but chipmunks got my last car :(

[drowninginthoughts27]

i just bought a new car ahhhhh

[eoieopda]

I am here to request some silly, sweet Channie fluff 🥺🥺 as mild or spicy as you want, idm, just want some deep comfort feat. my favourite fun-sized snack 🥰🥰

the one with chan and the promotion (i)

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader type: drabble (fluff, hurt/comfort) au: fuck buddies to ?, pining rating: 18+ wc: 2.2k (don’t look at me) summary: you need a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happens to be free. | part two (4/20/24) cw: chan’s pov, minimal pronoun use (they), no smut but it’s referenced, reader has outpatient dental surgery (not depicted), reference to blood/swelling, reader is doped the hell up. 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

You’re drifting off in some twilight on the other side of a closed door, but Chan’s the one that’s stupefied.

Mechanically speaking, he knows how he got himself into this position: drove here in his car, parked in the lot outside, walked into the front door. His ass is in this very seat because he dropped himself there, and he hasn’t moved in the two hours that have passed since.

None of that explains why he’s in his current position, though — why you reached out to him, of all people, to come with you to something like this.

Why he’s more giddy over that choice than confused by it, even if it turns out that he was your last resort.

He’s lost in thought when your oral surgeon’s head peeks out through the doorway to the recovery room. She asks if he’s “the boyfriend”, and he has no idea how to explain that he’s more of a “semi-consistent fuck buddy”, so he simply says “yes” before allowing her to usher him into the room.

You’re slumped in a reclining chair when Chan walks in, heavy eyelids fluttering as you try hard to fight off sleep. Better still, the gauze in your mouth makes your chipmunk cheeks stick out while your still-numb lips fumble with words. The urge to reach for his phone and snap a picture makes his fingers twitch, but he doesn’t; you’d absolutely murder him if he tried.

“Mmfph?” You grunt when your narrowed eyes manage to clock him standing there.

He grins automatically, fingers reaching up to tip a hat he isn’t wearing. “Mmfph to you, too.”

Whatever drugs they gave you to knock you on your ass aren’t strong enough to overcome your personality; you roll your eyes much more easily than you keep them fully open. That trademark sass must’ve taken a lot out of you, though. You doze off again before he can blink, slumping further in your chair with your head lolled uncomfortably to the side.

Your neck is going to hurt later, he thinks with a frown. 

“Once they get their sea legs back, you should be okay to go.”

Chan jumps when the surgeon pipes up, having completely forgotten anyone else was in the room.

She clears her throat sheepishly, clearly aware that she’s interrupting something. Breezing right past that awkwardness, she pulls a prescription pad from her coat pocket. The top page is promptly ripped off and passed to him with a stern look. 

She warns, “Make sure they don’t take this medication on an empty stomach.”

Damn — only two hours in, and he’s already being promoted from chauffeur to caretaker? It should embarrass him that this fact tickles him thoroughly pink, but it doesn’t. Inwardly, he high-fives himself.

Nice one, Chan!

“Soup is best,” the surgeon continues, once again pulling him out of his own head. There’s a pause before she remembers the kicker; she waves her hand urgently when she finally does. “Nothing spicy, though.”

He nods in understanding, and just like that, she pats his shoulder and disappears out the door. Unsure what else to do, Chan takes a seat on the small stool next to your chair and waits.

And wait, and waits, and waits.

Jesus. What did they give you — a horse tranquilizer?

When your eyes open the second time, they find him immediately. They’re still a bit glassy, but they’re much more alert. Bright, even, which is a bit of a wonder, given the circumstances. Right away, he can tell that the space cadet has — sort of — returned to Earth.

“Can —?” You gesture to your mouth, which struggles to frown around the gauze. 

Uselessly, you flick out your tongue in an attempt to wet your lips. They're dry from all the time you must’ve spent with your mouth open, and his fingers twitch again when he pictures the chapstick in his pocket.

You distract him with what he assumes are words, prompting him to shift his gaze from your mouth to your eyes.

Everything that comes next is garbled, totally incoherent, but he gets the gist. With a quick glance at his watch, he confirms that it’s been thirty minutes since he started watching you sleep, and that feels like enough time. 

Right?

So, he shrugs permissively; you perk up the second you’re given the green light. Bravely, you only whine a little bit when you lay eyes on the slightly bloody, thoroughly spit-soaked material as you pull it away from your gums. 

Chan can’t tell if you’re trying to pout when you hold that mess out to him and stare expectantly, but the intent doesn’t matter much in the long run; the effect is the same. He takes your drooled-on trash without a second thought.

Squinting as he concentrates, he fires it off towards the bin in the corner like he’s trying to beat a buzzer. The pair of you watch as it ricochets off the wall, then drops perfectly in the basket below.

Immediately, he turns back to you with wiggling eyebrows and a smirk. “Bank shot,” he brags.

You ignore the true purpose of his raised hand — a well-deserved high-five — and instead latch onto it.  Gripping tightly as if your life depends on it, you drag yourself up and out of your chair. 

Before you can throw yourself entirely off balance, Chan swoops in to tuck you under his arm. You’re independent to a fault, however; and you glare up at him exactly like he guessed you would. Apologetic, he keeps his distance with his hands raised.

Go for it, then.

All it takes for you to accept defeat is a few wobbly steps toward the door and some curse words muttered under your breath, for zest. You give in faster than you want to and dive into his side with a long-suffering groan. You’re not looking, so he doesn't bother to hide the triumphant smirk that spreads when your arms wrap around his waist.

The walk back to his car takes a lot more effort than he initially expected. Though you cling to him like you’ll float off without him, you insist on attempting to wander in every direction except the one you need to head in. To the best of his ability, Chan steers you across the pavement; you babble through every stumbled step.

“I’m going to open your door now, okay?” He coos once you finally reach his car.

It surprises him slightly — the softness he’s exuding, and how much like a reflex it feels — but he doesn’t dwell on it. He’s got a far more difficult puzzle to solve: getting your wriggling body into his car.

After a few unsuccessful tries, you finally let him usher you out of the way of the door. You spill into his passenger seat like you’re more jelly than bones, knocking your skull against the doorframe as you go.

Jesus Christ.

Eyes wide, Chan ducks down to run his fingers gingerly over what will likely be a goose egg tomorrow. Nervously, he chuckles, “That — uhh — that was quite the entrance. You okay?”

Tilting your chin just so, you push your cheek into his palm and blink up at him slowly like you’ve already forgotten the question. Suddenly, so has he. Several moments whizz by just like that — with his arm raised uncomfortably and your heavy head resting against his hand.

Never in his life has he wanted to kiss a forehead as badly as he does yours. It’s like you’ve got a magnet where your orbital bone should be, and it’s a bit shocking. Whatever magic you’ve got — some sort of tractor beam in your eyes, perhaps — pulls, pulls, pulls, but he stops himself.

That’s not what this is, he reminds himself as he backs away and shuts your door carefully in his place. That’s not who I am to you.

In this moment, Chan is your taxi driver, carting you off to the apartment he’s been in a hundred times — but never once in the daytime.

As he goes, it becomes a little clearer with every kilometer: the sun can’t be beating down overhead because he feels it next to him, warming his arm through his jacket; blinding him whenever his gaze drifts over to the passenger side.

“Chan,” you pout out of nowhere.

Again, your head droops fast and bumps his shoulder. You don’t react to this second knock, but he does, sucking air in through his teeth.

“Need to get you a helmet,” he mutters with a sheepish laugh. “You’re gonna give yourself a concussion at this rate.”

“Don’t need a helmet,” you argue. “I need pork belly, bad. Stop, please?”

Glancing quickly down at you, Chan bites back a smile. You look so adorably pitiful with your hazy eyes blinking one at a time, lips all puffy to match your cheeks. It takes all he’s got to tear his eyes off you and put them back on the road ahead.

He sighs, genuinely sorry. “No can do, champ.”

You repeat the nickname, pop the last letter, and make yourself laugh so hard that you hiccup.

“Your options currently are soup or… well, soup.” He tries to sound firm, but if you pout at him a second time, Chan might throw your dentist’s warning right out the window. “Think it over while I stop at the pharmacy, yeah?”

In the quiet that follows, he swears he can hear the gears turning in your head. He doubts it has anything to do with what he just told you, but he doesn’t mind. Come to think of it, he doesn’t mind any of what this day has turned out to be so far. That doesn’t necessarily surprise him, either.

With the way things currently are between you, you don’t feature much in his everyday life; only weekends and the occasional weeknight. It works well, this thing you’ve got going. He enjoys what you do — that head game of yours is otherworldly — but judging by the glimpses he’s seen so far, he likes who you are, too.

Despite not knowing you on some deeper level, shit like this — being around you for some profoundly asexual purpose — feels natural. Like he could do it more often; be a little more than just a recurring character. If you let him, that is.

Would you let him?

That question rattles around his brain when he pulls up to the pharmacy and dashes inside, too wary to leave you alone for long but wholly unprepared to guide you through a shop in your current state. He’s still thinking about it when he jogs back to his car with your prescription in hand.

That bag is nearly dropped to the pavement below when he sees you, however; and he can’t remember what he was thinking about before because you’re weeping now. In a flash, Chan throws himself into his seat and jerks the door shut behind him, metal groaning in the process. 

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so forceful, but he can feel his pulse in his ears. On instinct, he reaches out and places gentle hands on your temples. Eyes scanning for any sign of injury, he tries to bury his urgency in a soothing voice. “Hey — talk to me. Are you okay?”

You blink up at him with wide, wet eyes. Oh, fuck, you’re breaking my heart. His stomach drops at the sight of your lower lip trembling, but then you whimper:

“What if worms don’t have best friends?”

And Chan needs a minute because he can’t believe you’re real, that you’re borderline bereft over worms, or that he’s this fucking enamored.

Before he knows it, he starts giggling so hard that his eyes start to swim. Thankfully, it’s with mirth and not utter devastation like yours. Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth, he wipes a tear off your cheek with the side of his thumb. Just as gently, he tries his best to reassure you, “I’m sure they do.”

“You’re sure?” You repeat with a sniffle. Chan nods; he’s never been more so.

Successfully placated, you fall into thoughtful silence next to him. It doesn’t last long, though. Abruptly, you and your goldfish memory change course: “Can we get pork belly?”

Something in him wants to give you the world in this moment — the moon on a string, or whatever — but he shakes his head, unwilling to budge. But then your face falls, and he blurts out, “When you’re better, I’ll take you out for some.”

And he means it.

You peep, “Maybe next week.”

Chan laughs while he puts the key in the ignition and turns it. Maybe, he thinks, if you remember having this conversation. As the engine roars back to life, a new thought bubbles to the surface in his mind:

Maybe you will remember.

If you do — and if he’s brave enough then — maybe he’ll confess that he’s a liar. He might own up to the fact that, when you called to ask for his help, he didn’t already have the day off like he claimed to; or that the sick time he rushed to claim in the aftermath wasn’t attributable to his health at all. 

Maybe he’ll admit that he doesn’t care how many people you asked before you turned to him because you ultimately did.

Just maybe.

As he backs out of his parking space, Chan casts another glance your way. It takes all the effort in the world for you to do it, but you smile at him with your whole damn face. 

That settles it, then.

He nods once — firmly — and corrects you, “Definitely next week.”

Part two.

[imjusthereforwolfstar]

Day 6 Glowing/ Thought I'd Lost You

My little contribution to this year's Fic-O-Ween, Coops at the Lupin's Cottage

Huge thanks as always to @lumosinlove giving us her characters and then letting us play around with them. Header belongs to @noots-fic-fests

Mild Vaincre Spoiler

It had been a fantastic long weekend at the Lupin’s cabin on the lake. Remus and Sirius had “opted out” of the last night practice for the week, and were hundreds of miles away at the Lupin’s cabin before anyone noticed they were gone. And if they picked up a giant fuzzy stow away on their way up there, who was to know? 

Sirius had been quiet during the last half hour or so of the ride. Remus knew better than to push Sirius to talk. He needed time to sort out what he was thinking about and why he was thinking about it before being prodded to talk. So he sat in comfortable silence with his fiancee and took in the Halloween decorations that were appearing in town.

Remus parked the car in the driveway and opened the trunk. Kuny’s 200 lb Newfoundland Leia hopped out and began sniffing around the driveway while Remus attached the leash to her collar. Leaves crunched underfoot as they approached the front door. He could smell the yellow and red mums that his aunt had placed on the steps the week before, and he smiled at the twinkling orange and purple fairy lights strung over the porch. 

Their weekend was filled with the best of fall. Leia was so happy to be out of the apartment in Gryffendor, and she galumphed happily down the forest path and chased squirrels and chipmunks. They spent an especially memorable evening trying to wrangle her to give her a bath after she splashed in the lake and rolled in the sand. All three of them ended up showered and happily exhausted, cuddled up on the couch watching Great British Bakeoff.  

While Leia slept for hours in sunny patches, Sirius and Remus cooked up a storm, with stuffed roasted squashes, crusty loaves of bread, hearty soups and stews, all with the last of summer's fresh products from the farmer’s market. Remus dug up his family’s stash of Ball jars and they loaded up the fridge to take as much of it back as they could. Remus left a few jars of pickles in the fridge and 2 apple pies in the freezer for whoever came by next.  

They added their own fall touches to the house. A new wreath that they had found in a local shop for the front door, a clumsily knitted blanket for the guest bedroom (Remus was getting lessons from Lily). And if a 12 ft skeleton made its way into the back yard, that was their business. 

Their last evening at the cabin, they watched scary movies with popcorn and hot spiced apple cider, Leia laying at their feet and enjoying an occasional kernel. When the last movie ended, Remus unwound himself from the blankets and stood, then whistled to Leia. “C’mon girl, let’s go potty one more time before bed.” Leia got to her feet slowly and stretched, meandered over to the door and waited for Remus to clip the leash on. Then she pulled Remus out into the yard to sniff for the perfect spot.

Sirius had been thinking a lot this weekend. He had been thinking a lot about a lot of things. He’d been thinking about their wedding, of course. Remus, his Remus, dressed in a suit, standing in front of Dumo, right in the spot where Leia took a leap off the dock into the water to chase after a duck. Remus, his Remus, waiting for him. Thinking about what it meant to be married, what it meant to start a new family, a new life, a happy life. A life he always thought he’d never get to have.  A life he deserved. 

And he had been thinking about how he almost lost it all. Even though he had many conversations with Heather about it over the last year, even though he had mostly made peace with what happened, every once in a while, it all came crashing back to him. How he almost lost Remus, his Remus, and what that would have meant for, well, everything. 

A wave of it had hit him during the end of the last movie. They had been watching The Birds, and Sirius’s mind wandered. Remus must have noticed, and as the movie ended, he got Leia ready to go outside before bed. 

Leia led Remus around the corner and down toward the lake, and Sirius lost sight of the bobbing orb of the flashlight. His mind wandered again to the meeting in Arthur’s office when he couldn’t look at Remus, as he just walked out, leaving Remus to deal with the fallout on his own while he got on an airplane and flew hundreds of miles away. 

Where would he be right now if Remus hadn’t fought for him. Hadn't called him and left him that message. Hadn’t been willing to wait for him. 

Sirius's mind drifted to a place where he didn’t have a text thread going with Hope about the latest baking tips. Didn’t have Lyall reminding him to change the filter on the furnace before turning the heat on. Didn’t have a weekly FaceTime with The Julian Lupin. 

Didn’t have Remus. His Remus. 

The second Remus stepped into the doorway from the yard, Sirius had his arms around him.

“Re. I thought I lost you.”

“Baby! It was only 5 minutes, what happened?.”

“Once I couldn’t see the flashlight glowing anymore, I panicked.”

“Where would I have gone? The entire property is fenced in.”

“I don’t know. But as soon as you went around the corner and the light was gone, all I could think of was what life would be like if I didn’t have you anymore.” 

Remus hung up the dog’s leash and toed off his shoes, then headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. “Do you want to talk about it, love?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like it isn’t something we haven’t gone over and over.” 

“But it’s been on your mind all weekend. It’s okay to need to talk about it again.” 

Sirius took a deep breath. “I just…don’t know how to do this next part Re. I don’t know what it means to be a good husband. I’m so excited to be married to you, but what if that changes things? What if I start to turn into my father? What if I do something terrible and lose you?”

Remus immediately put the tea bags down and came to stand in front of Sirius. “Baby. You are already a wonderful partner. You are kind and loving and unafraid to push me when I need to be pushed. You are exactly what I need. And I am marrying you because of that. And I can’t promise nothing will change, or that we will never have a disagreement, but I don’t think a certificate and a ring are going to change who you are as a person.”

“I guess so.”

“I know so, Sirius Black.”

Sirius got up and turned the stove off. He opened the cabinet and his heart gave a tug. Everyone who comes up to the cabin frequently has their own mug. Two trips ago, Julian dragged Sirius through every market and store until he found Sirius the perfect mug. It was white with a sky blue dinosaur holding a little mug with a rainbow heart on it. Underneath was the word ‘Tea-Rex’.

He took the mug out and clutched it to his chest, then turned to Remus. “How can you be so sure?”

Remus shrugged. “I just am. I have faith in you, and faith in me, and faith in us together.”

Sirius closed his eyes at that. For so long it was just him. He was so used to doing everything by himself and for himself that he sometimes forgot he doesn’t have to do that anymore. 

Remus walked over and pulled his own mug down out of the cabinet. Julian had picked this one out too, but years ago. It was a giant yellow Lego man head, and it made Sirius smile every time he saw it. 

Remus poured the tea water and the smell of apples and cinnamon drifted slowly up to Sirius’s nose. “What I really know is that we are in this together, no matter what. Whatever that means, and whatever that looks like. And I think it looks a lot like you are stuck with me forever.”

Sirius rested his head on Remus’s shoulder, and Remus wrapped his arm around his side. “If you want, let’s make an appointment with Heather. I’ll go with you. It might be good for us to talk about your worries together with her, and maybe make a plan if we need.”

Sirius nodded and leaned a bit more heavily into Remus. Remus stood up to his full height and stretched, then put his arm around Siruis’s shoulders and steered him toward the staircase. “Right now, I think a shower and bed are a good plan. We have a long drive ahead of us, and the wrath of Arthur Weasly to face when we get home.”

Sirius allowed himself to be led into the shower, and then led into bed. Leia curled up at the foot of their bed, and Sirius tucked his toes under her belly. Remus turned on the bedside lamp and picked up his latest novel. Sirius snuggled into his side, closed his eyes and listened to the wind rustling in the leaves. Arthur Weasley and his anger be damned, he and Remus needed this weekend before the season really got going again. He felt more settled, more secure in things, at least for now. They had a plan. And at the end of the day, no matter what, he gets to marry Remus. His Remus. And really, what could be better than that?

[sassy-man-apocalypse]

HELLO NEW FRIEND AND COOL PERSON I FOUND THROUGH A MUTUAL OF A MUTUAL!!! please please please tell me about the WC AU !!! I want to draw them,,,

HELLO TUMBLR USER MAROONPALT :D I'll tell you about out best friends the bayoutrio and how they've been fairing

Cast !!!

Forager — Rolan Deep

Catnip — Timothy Rand

Rockstar — Kian Stone

Rat — Richie Rat Sanders

Chipmunk — Rachel

Remember that burnt down twoleg place? Yeah that's where they used to live ( rosefeather did too ! But thats a story for another ask ). In this au the bug apocalypse was just a very big fire caused by a car crashing and exploding near a gas station, which then managed to spread its fire all around town in a very short amount of time. Most twolegs evacuated and moved out soon after, only leaving remnants of their old lives there, such as the Bayoutrio who saw it all go down.

Rat is apart of this too! Unfortunately he was ran over by the aforementioned car before everything went to shit, and Catnip talked to him one last time before he went.

As for Chipmunk, she drowned. Catnip blames himself for not paying attention to her.

Before all of that happened —

Catnip & Chipmunk were adopted by parents who only wanted to shut their kid up. Seeing as the child was too young to take care of them properly, and the adults didn't care enough, the both of them simply got used to living outside. Catnip's owner actually named him Munchkin, but he didn't like that name, so he named himself after a drug instead. Naturally.

Rockstar's owners had recently moved in from Hollywood, where they picked him up from the street — he tries to convince everyone the other cats in the alleys would cheer his name on like he was a celebrity. Soon after moving in, Rockstar's owners opened up an Instagram account for pictures of him, dyed his fur ( ethically ), etc. They didn't show him much attention past that though.

Forager was brought into an old woman's home and lived pretty comfortably before the fires, though she passed away when it happened. He watched it happen and couldn't do anything to help.

Thats all there is on them for now ! If you'd like to draw them or any other guys, lots of them have set designs! You can find them in my masterpost :) tag me if you ever post your art of them, I'd absolutely love to see :D

[lalasworld2x]

Home

Reader x Harley Quinn Imagine

You always knew Harley was a horrific criminal that had once long worked with THE Joker, but that somehow didn’t bother you. At least not anymore.

You first met when you had just arrived in Gotham. It was the only place close enough and cheap enough to live. And growing up with a crazy conspiracy theorist dad somehow convinced you that all the chaos Hotham was famous for just wasn’t as bad as it was portrayed. God, you were so dead wrong. The DAY you had moved into your new apartment, The Riddler struck. You were so fucking scared, it was comical.

Of course you never felt safe. But it would have to suffice for now. Just for now. Very soon you hoped to skedaddle. You made it work.

One night, you exited your work building to find your tires slashed and your car robbed. Huh?? Was this a targeted attack or just a random carjacking? You didn’t want to stick around to find out. Taxi prices were a bitch in Gotham and you didn’t want to spend an arm and a leg to get home, so you walked it like a fucking pro. Determined, you speed walked so fast, a soccer mum would gasp.

On your little late journey home, some rattling occurred behind you. You took that as a sign to run. Suddenly a figured jumped in front of, jolting you back. You scuttled backwards, babbling worried apologies and offering your life. Stepped forward was a brightly dressed clown. Harley Quinn.

She leaned forward and smiled her wide, scary smile at you, canines shining. “Hiya, toots!”

You apologised frantically for getting in her way, stumbling to stand up and run. She quickly grabbed your forearm and pulled you back. You screamed for help, but she slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shh! Sh-sh-sh… I’m not gonna hurt ya.. just need a little help is all. Can you do that for me?” she whispered. You nodded quickly, already sweating.

She released you from her tight embrace, backing you against the way. She planted her hand next to your head, leaning towards you. Your heart pumped rapidly and your knees trembled, ready to give way any second.

“I’m hiding from Bats. I don’t know if you noticed, but this isn’t my usual look! I’m trying something new, and hopefully that bird brain doesn’t notice my outfit’s changed,” she explained.

“Okay, what do you need me for?” your voice tried hard not to stammer.

“Just pretend like we know each other personally. I’m just wearin’ a Halloween costume and you find it hot, so we’re makin’ out in an alley way,” she giggled. You gulped. There was no denying she’s always been an attractive woman, but she’s also like a major criminal? Also, The Joker is DEFINITELY gonna have your throat for this if he ever finds out your identity. It’s not like Harley knows who you are, but that didn’t stop your paranoia.

“Uh- aren’t you with Joker? Wouldn’t that be cheating…?” your face shied away.

“Joker? Nahh. Pissed him off not long ago, got him out of my sweet life. That’s why I’m startin’ fresh, wanna make a new name for myself. Hell, might even gang up with Ives and Kitty.”

The longer you looked at her beautiful face, the safer you felt. It was almost insane. You stopped shaking for the most part, but your guard was still high up. Her cheeks puffed up as she smiled, like a cute chipmunk or something. Her perfume smelt lovely too, you just hoped it wouldn’t have a negative side effect on you…

A flash of shadow swept overhead and she immediately smashed her lips into yours. The kiss was nice and sweet, lasting almost a minute. It actually felt like heaven. Your hands slowly slipped to hold her waist, and her hand met your cheek endearingly.

Finally you pulled apart, blushing hysterically. You faced down so she couldn’t see your red glow. She chuckled. “Sorry, probably should’ve warned ya first. Are you single by the way? Didn’t think to ask, hah!”

“Yeah I’m single, it’s fine… uh thank you, I guess… for not like- killing me? I think,” you had no clue what to say. What if you accidentally annoyed her? You swallowed hard. She laughed loudly, her iconic laugh possibly bringing her unwanted attention.

“I should be thanking you! Didn’t want Batsy to notice a lonely little clown wondering the streets, would’ve been thrown back inta’ Arkham!” just before she skipped off, slid something into your pocket and swatted your rear endearingly. She disappeared into the shadows, and you immediately pulled out the note she gave you.

‘Here’s my number cutie ;)

##########

Call me later, wanna see you AGAIN!

Harlz xoxo’

Your heart fluttered. There’s absolutely no way you were going to go on a date with a supervillain. No way. That’s ridiculous and stupid. You’d get yourself kidnapped way too often, and you’d probably be killed. Who knows, this may be a trap and she could be the death of you. You would not be dumb enough to date Harley Quinn, Joker’s ex.

At least that’s what you told yourself three years ago. After that first date, and the second date, and the fifth date, and the third vacation together with her gal pals, and the home bought together, and the many cats and puppies to fit in with the hyenas, it seemed PRETTY obvious you were dumb enough to date Harley Quinn.

Of course it was hard. She was always being caught and sent back to Arkham, but she always eventually came home to give you that sweet victory kiss. She never hurt you, intentionally at least. But all relationships have bumps along the way. You get along with her friends and her team, and they’d all be willing to save you the second they hear you’re in distress.

At the moment, Harley had been in Arkham for two weeks. Just yesterday you received a bouquet of red roses, some of them painted black. They had colour corresponding glitter and little chocolates stuffed between the petals. At this point you don’t even question who delivers these gifts from Harley, you’re just glad that you’re on her mind while she in prison.

You were in the midst of making some nice pasta for dinner when a knock sounded at the front door. You quickly went to check it, but nobody was in sight. You smiled and went back to the kitchen to find Harley at the kitchen window. She had her adorable face pressed against the glass, beaming at you.

“Looks like I won’t be having leftovers tomorrow,” you laughed as you opened the back door for her. She bounced into your arms, covering your skin in gleeful kisses.

“I’ve miss you, doll,” she hummed, her head resting on your shoulder. A warm embrace encompassed you both, the house finally feeling like home once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry this is so shit 🙏🙏 love Harley though 😋😋

Masterlist

[neonponders]

Part 17 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🐬

Part 16

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Billy leaned against his car, exhaling a stream of silver-blue smoke like a chimney into the night sky.

“Biwwy! Biwwy, hi!”

“See, Stevie? He bweathes firwe! Can you bweathe firwe? I wanna twy!”

Billy chuckled as Steve approached. He exhaled another stream, lips softly puckered as he greeted, “Hey, chipmunks.”

He tapped his cigarette in one hand to loosen the ash, but with the other he reached forward to offer the little ones a finger. They held onto him with smiling faces. “You’re looking fresh.”

“We wode bikes!” little Steve exclaimed. “And Hop got us new cwothes!”

“Already?” he crooned.

Little Billy added, “Course aweady! We’rwe fast!”

Billy listened but his eyes had drifted up to Steve. He raised the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Last puff for a rough day?”

“You’re so generous,” Steve sassed, but he glanced down at his pocket, “This is a bad idea,” and took the filter between his own fingers. His lips found the indentions already made from Billy’s mouth.

The silence from his pocket felt foreboding. Then, as he exhaled hot, blissful nicotine, he heard, “We can totawwy bweathe firwe.”

“We’wll be spicy.”

Steve announced, “Not allowed,” as they pivoted toward the store.

Small Billy shrieked, “Why not? ”

Large Billy teased, “Yeah, why not?”

Steve sighed at the sky and warned, “This is the only taste you get.”

His breath was hardly smoke at this point, but the littles grimaced at the smell he blew over their heads. Small Steve complained, “Biwwy smewlls betterw than that.”

Small Billy agreed, “Thewre must be somethin’ we don’t get. Biwwy, what’s the twick to bweathing fiwre?”

The cigarette filter got flicked into the trash can outside the store as Billy said, “You need big lungs for fire.”

The small one lamented, “Ugh! What a cop out!”

Big Steve offered, “Wanna trade shirts?”

“YEAH!” they roared, earning a blurted laugh from Billy. Once in his shirtfront, it was like the night had been reset.

“Hi, Biwwy.”

“Hey, Harrington. You good in there?”

“Yeah!”

“What’s dinnewr?” little Billy asked.

“We’ll see what’s on the shelves.”

“What’s it like, wife-guawrding a big pool?”

“Do you fight any shawrks?”

He chuckled deep in his chest as he grabbed a basket, only to pause at the noise of Steve with a cart. “There’s a budget here.”

“You’re not paying for everything,” Steve defended, “and I like to ride the carts.”

Billy hummed a dubious sound but returned the basket. “Sharks are in the ocean, not pools.”

Small Billy said, “But we watched a big pool with shawrks.”

That gave Billy pause. “Like an aquarium?”

Steve confirmed as they strolled through the fresh produce, “They like animal documentaries. What crunchy water are we trying tomorrow?”

“NO!” small Billy chided.

“These.”

Steve turned around to see Billy waving open a bag next to the pile of peaches. He picked one up and gave it a sniff, before holding it for the littles to smell. Small Steve said dreamily, “That smwells good.”

Little Billy’s features pinched in a skeptical frown. “What makes this one speciawl?”

“Have a little faith. Chances are good that you’ll like them since they’re my favorite.”

A small smile warmed big Steve’s face as he let Billy take the wheel for the little ones. They listened, enraptured, as he shared, “I saw a shark while surfing, once.”

“No way!”

“Werwe you scawred?”

“I didn’t really have time to be scared,” he said while invading Steve’s space to look over the paper list in his hand. If Steve's eyes crossed a little bit at the wave of sunscreen, tobacco, and citrus that came off of Billy and infused his senses, he blinked rapidly to fix it.

“Did it chomp chomp somebody?” small Billy asked.

The bigger one laughed. “No, it got scared off by some dolphins.”

“Dawphins?” little Steve repeated.

“Yeah. They’re like the wolf packs of the ocean. Way scarier than sharks, who swim alone.”

“We don’ swim awone!” little Steve realized. “We’wre dawphins!”

But little Billy ventured in a more cautious tone, “Do you swim awone, Biwwy?”

“I liked surfing alone, but only at sunrise and sunset.”

Billy didn’t realize what was being asked until little Steve consoled, “You’rwe not a wonely shawrk, Biwwy. With Stevie, you’rwe a dawphin. Way coowler. Shawrks don’t scarwe us.”

Small Billy gazed up at his bigger self. “Werwe you scarwed of the dawphins?”

“I got the hell out of there, if that’s what you’re asking. They had little dolphins they were protecting. Sometimes the ocean’s not big enough to share.”

Little gasps got pointed in Steve’s direction. He defended, “I told you he can take care of himself. He looks pretty good in one piece to me.”

Billy smirked as the littles agreed. “I’m gwad you werwen’t chomped, Biwwy.”

“I’d be sad if Biwwy got chomped.”

Steve’s brows furrowed, unsure why he heard something in their tone that he couldn’t read -

Billy sure could, and answered it. “Don’t get any ideas. Dolphins are strong because they look out for one another. Don’t be vigilantes.”

Small Billy scoffed, “What the heck’s a vigiwante?”

“Somebody who does dangerous stuff alone,” big Billy cornered.

“But you do dang’wous stuff alone!”

“I’m big. I can do that from time to time.”

Little Steve whined, “But we wanna be stwong too. So Biwwy and Stevie don’t have to be scawred.”

“Then you won’t be dolphins, you’ll be sharks,” he outsmarted.

But Steve picked up, “Even sharks have pilot fish."

Billy blinked softly, considering that. Before he could agree or refute, Steve finished, "We stick together, right?”

“Right,” echoed the voices from Billy’s pocket.

Steve added, “Then you guys be strong. Billy and I will be scary.”

Billy laughed, “You’re the least scary person in Hawkins.”

“And yet you have foggy memories of Max using my baseball bat.”

Billy’s smile evaporated. “That was yours? You’re joking.”

“Dude, I wish. Every time it rolls around my trunk, I want to throw it into the lake.”

“Don’t say that now. You’re finally interesting.”

“Finally? Why were you riding my ass during basketball, then?”

Billy grinned, but before he could respond, they both heard murmurs behind them and rotated to point stoic glares at a couple of middle-aged women. They jumped like hens with ruffled feathers and moved along. Billy scoffed, “I didn’t realize church let out this late.”

“Bridge tournaments run late,” Steve concurred.

“What’s bwidge?” small Billy asked.

“It’s a card game.”

“Is it fun?”

“I prefer backgammon.”

“Oh yeah?” big Billy taunted. “Are you better with dice than a basketball?”

“You play mean, and yeah. I can hustle at backgammon.”

“We’ll see about that later,” Billy laughed and body-checked Steve out of the way to steer the cart. He gave it a push and stepped on the rail between the rear wheels to ride it down the length of the store to the butcher’s counter. The littles giggled and whooped at the rush of air in their faces.

Steve didn’t stop the smile on his face as he frisbee-tossed bacon and sausage packages into the cart. The shelves were out of ground meat, so he waited for the butcher to grind up some while Billy returned from the freezer section with beer and -

“Is that frozen pie dough?”

“Yeah? What’s the matter?” he challenged.

“Nothing,” Steve quickly retreated. “I never guessed that you bake.”

“I make a mean pot pie, Harrington. It’ll knock your tits off.”

Billy smiled, ready and waiting for Steve’s retort -

“No!” little Billy interrupted. “Don’t hurwt Stevie’s chest. I sweep there.”

Steve offered a finger for the littles to hold while he reassured, “He’s just spitting hot air...” He pressed the rest of his fingers against Billy’s shirtfront. “Wow, you do run hot, though.”

“What’d I say about feeling me up?”

“Well, nothing, yet.”

Steve’s eyes darted between the movement of Billy’s swallow and, by now, a very familiar rosy flush to his cheeks. A small smile lifted Steve’s features before he could stop it, but he removed his hand to give him some space.

As they finished their lap around the store with the dairy wall, Steve diverted, “B, which yogurt do you like so far?”

“The owange one.”

Steve looked at big Billy, who frowned curiously. Steve explained, “That’s the peach flavor. Good choice. Stevie?”

“Pink!”

“Peach and strawberry,” he narrated as the tubs were set inside the cart...

A loud commotion in the middle of the store suggested that someone had knocked over a display. Steve laughed softly, “I expected us to be the noisy ones, especially with you popping wheelies.”

But as they came around and walked toward the cash registers, they looked down the cereal aisle where a familiar blur of dark hair and denim was putting boxes back on the shelves before rushing out of sight.

“What’s Munson’s malfunction?” Billy asked.

“Hopper said that he’s been acting strange. Stranger than usual.”

Billy thought over that and said, “He’s not one to enjoy his own merchandise.”

“You deal with Eddie Munson?”

“He travels for music stuff,” Billy confirmed, “which means a decent variety in kush.”

“Huh,” Steve reconsidered. “I never tried hitting him up. I figured he’d probably charge me a small fortune.”

“I sure would,” Billy confirmed.

“What part of Scoops Ahoy and Family Video makes me look like I sweat money?”

“It’s daddy’s beamer you’re driving,” Billy smirked, and pulled the end of the cart into a cashier lane. He dropped a plastic barrier onto the conveyor belt to separate what he and Steve paid for, but for all his talk, Billy put the meats and peaches on his side. Steve offered, “You’ve got all that?”

“Don’t ask me that again.”

Steve held up the yogurt defensively on its way to the conveyor belt.

[cataboliiicseed]

HELLO please tell me about your cd collection?? i would love to hear about it genuinely

HAIII BELL!!! i am more than happy to talk about my cds!!!

i included pics of my current collection 🕺!

i’ve been collecting them most of my life. i got given a cd player at a young age which is why i started collecting. as a kid it was mostly so fresh & now hits of summer cds that are still somewhere in the house (also alvin & the chipmunks).

these days i collect them because my car is old and doesn’t have aux or bluetooth so cds and the radio get me through. i’ve included pics of my glovebox, the ones that live in a bag cause i have too many to fit in said glovebox & my current listen. i’ll just list them as they appear and where i got them from!!

gorillaz, the now now- bought first hand. at the time i was listening to it almost daily

gorillaz, demon days- actually belongs to my sister. she doesn’t have a cd player so it judt lives in my car for when we go on drives

twenty one pilots, trench- a gift for my birthday last year. i have most of tøps discography and i was obsessed with it when it released (saw them in concert & everything)

my chemical romance, the black parade- found this one in an op shop. there’s a few i got at the same time, some emo must’ve donated their collection in one go. love this album its one i listen to a lot

panic! at the disco, a fever you cant sweat out- also found in the op shop haul!

panic! at the disco, pretty odd- another op shop haul find. i didn’t listen to this album a load back then compared to the rest of their stuff but its one of my faves now

my chemical romance, three cheers for sweet revenge- shocking news, found this in the op shop haul!

bastille, all this bad blood- at some point during my teens i spend my pocket money on this. definitely glad i still have it, there’s so much music on that album & i still love bastille

twenty one pilots, blurryface- another one i spent my pocket money on!!

twenty one pilots, vessel- another pocket money purchase

fall out boy, folie à deux- found in the op shop haul. didn’t even listen to this album at the time & i forgot i had it until way after i fixated on it and then went through my collection again

fall out boy, infinity on high- another op shop find, very fun find!! was a fave at the time

fall out boy, american beauty/american psycho- op shop haul find!!

fall out boy, save rock and roll- op shop haul find!!!

my chemical romance, danger days- my brother found this one in an op shop for me

will wood and the tapeworms, everything is a lot- bought this one online when he dropped the last of the original pressings a few years back. its signed but the signature is rubbing off a bit

will wood, in case i make it- i got this one when i backed the album when he was fundraising for it

the libertines, up the bracket- i think my mum gave this to me, i’ve never listened to it lol

janelle monáe, the archandroid- dad gave this to me. one of my favourite albums of all time

sara bareilles, whats inside: songs from waitress- this was a pocket money buy. i think i bought this before i actually listened to the waitress musical? so it was my introduction to it and then waitress was what made me fall in love with musical theatre

the hush sound, like vines- found this in a record shop. was very excited, i was playing one of their songs on repeat at the time

pulp, different class- mum gave me this one as well

the breeders, cannonball- my dad got it for my brother who didn’t want it and i slid in like hi, yes i love the breeders, this is mine bye.

troye sivan, wild- a pocket money buy. i really wanted blue neighbourhood but they only had this ep so its what i got

sara bareilles, the blessed unrest- another pocket money buy, i had a huge sara bareilles phase at some point in highschool

the scary jokes, retinal bloom- bought this one in one of the packs when the album was about to be dropped. gawd i love the scary jokes

the scary jokes, burn pygmion!!! a better guide to romance- what i listened to todayyy. probably my number one album ever this was a christmas gift!!

theres two fob cds i skipped cause they’re just a compilation & cd that all the songs on are on my other cds.

theres so many more that have come and left my collection but this is where its at now and i can’t waiiiit to find more!! especially w my damn car. NOW TELL ME ABOUT YOURS (please ^3^!)

[pbandjesse]

I feel slightly better today. Still fragile. My tummy feels a little off. But I am not as horrible as I was yesterday. I am mostly just tired and dehydrated. But it just doesn't feel like I can get enough water.

I slept okay last night. Had a weird dream where I had a baby with a shrunken head named Scotty and James accidently gave him away. It was a whole thing and was pretty distressing. I would text James and they apologized for their dream representative. And I felt a little better.

I got up and dressed and felt cute. I love this little jumpsuit. And this is my favorite big shirt. I would have breakfast. James made a loaf of bread and asked me to move that to the microwave for safe keeping. Which is where they left my breakfast. Much appreciated.

I would eat. Which was a slight struggle but I knew if I didn't eat I would feel worse. So I ate. And had my glass of milk. And would leave for work.

It was such a lovely temperature outside. It's going to go back to the 90s next week. But the last few days has been just the perfect temperature. Like a little peak at fall.

And it made my hikes way easier. But that was a couple hours away.

When I got to camp I would spend a little time organizing and cleaning out the car. Why I always have a million things in the car drives me nuts but also I can't help myself. Everything becomes a doom box. But I at least did some organizing and got rid of trash. I need to organize the center console and the glove box still but I was glad it was mostly better. James promises to clean the whole inside of the car if all the camp dirt soon. Which will be really nice because it's gross in there. Honestly I would love to get the car detailed but I know that's expensive and I will end up trashing it again because my life is very dirty!! So maybe we'll just go to a car wash place and vacuum it real good.

When I got inside Elizabeth and Sarah were in there. We chatted for a bit. And I got on my laptop to work on reorganizing my Native American field trip stuff. I wanted to take out a few duplicate mistakes and stream line everything, including the schedule, so it will be easier to send out to schools. Hopefully Elizabeth can just send the folder so it isn't all on me, which lead to a lot of mistakes and confusion but also a lot of schools can't receive attachments so having it as a link should help us out. I spent most of the next hour and a half editing and working on that.

And then it was basically time to head home to get my group. I would sit in the art building for a little bit to charge my phone and get my walkie. And then I was off.

I had girl groups today. Younger girls first and then older girls. And it was a pretty nice hike. The girls would squabble a bit until I spoke strongly to them. Keep your hands to yourself, if they are always touching you why are you purposely standing next to them??? Make better choices.

We would see a deer and a chipmunk. It was a good animal day. We also found bugs and worms and frogs. Even saw a salamander. I think they enjoyed slowing down and looking and searching. I enjoyed their questions and observations.

I got them back to their cabin and said goodbye. I had really enjoyed their chaperone and her questions too. And I told them I hoped they have fun and learned something and they said they had. And I told them to have a good rest of the day.

I would go back down to the office. I had my leftover chipotle chips and queso. Which was excellent. I also had a fruit roll up and Elizabeth thought that was great and we talked about the gummy snacks we liked as kids. I remembered that I used to put the tongue tattoos on my hand and tell my friends that it was a snack for later. Which is so silly.

I would have some interesting conversations about some changes and pauses for programing this fall. About where the horses are going for the winter. And I let Elizabeth know I would like to help with maiden choice and other rentals. We also went over my September schedule. I am going to try to commute to Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday and possibly Fridays. There are a few of those days I already know I don't be available but there will be Mondays I will be. We are being flexible.

My afternoon groups didn't go poorly. But it did start really late. Like 20 minutes late. I was early but the girls were struggling to get themselves together. But it was fine. I let their chaperone know I could just cut stuff and would have them back on time. And I did exactly that. Got them back at exactly 245. I'm the best.

The one chaperone seemed annoyed with me when I wouldn't go back for the other who had stopped at the bathroom without telling me. I would have stopped and waited with the group but I'm not stopping our hike, going all the way back, and walking up a hill. Isn't going to happen. I had the girls engaged at the stream, you can just come down the hill. And eventually she did but they were acting like I was being outrageous but I'm not stopping and searching for an adult. You can follow instructions.

It was a nice hike though and I was having fun explaining plants and bugs and telling stories. They were funny asking when we would be done. And when I said this was the end of my two hours of hiking they were like. What!! It was real silly.

I dropped them off and walked to the office. Checked in about tomorrow. Tomorrow we're going through lost and found and I'm going to work on the NAFT supplies. It'll be a busy day.

I was starting to not feel amazing. But I had to muster as much strength as I could to go to peeps and get my steamer trunk. The first half of the walk wasn't so bad, but the second half I was dying. But I got it to the car without throwing up. I was just huffing really hard.

I gave myself a minute to catch my breath. Changed my shoes. Drank some water. And headed home.

When I got back here I was just so happy to be back. Me and James had plans to go get pizza and go to the organic market. And so I was just waiting for my love to come home.

I did my nails. I haven't painted them in forever but they have all grown weird. Flat and misshapen. And I thought maybe if I cleaned them up and painted them it would make them a little stronger and a more normal shape. It mostly worked.

I would also cut sweetp's nails. Who was very sweet letting me hold him and only cried a little but never wiggled. He's a good boy.

James would come home soon. And after they changed their shirt we were off.

We went to the Rotunda. We would go to mod pizza. James got the "mad dog" and I got a cheese with ricotta and hot honey. The woman making the pizza did not know what ricotta was which was very funny. But the pizza was really good, and the company was better.

I have been finding looking at my phone to much has been giving me motion sickness. I was glad that we were just being very present with each other.

We would go to the organic supermarket next. No luck finding vegan shrimp but we got vegan fish fillets. It seems that the company doesn't make the shrimp anymore which is pretty disappointing. I'll have to find a new brand. I did get vegan pepperoni though which is always a fun treat. James would also get vanilla extract for a really good price.

I was starting to not feel amazing. And so we headed home. I would get into jammies and lay down. James would play a new game of Monster of the Week (similar to DND) with their friends. They are hoping it will be a 6 month campaign. I am glad they have friends to play with.

I would eventually take an Epsom salt bath. And it helped me feel a little better but my stomach just feels fragile. I am just sipping beverages and trying to be hydrated. Thankfully water doesn't taste so bad anymore. But it is still tough for some reason.

James is done their game now. And I am just really tired.

I hope tomorrow is really productive. And I can just get through my tasks and have fun. I hope you all have a good day. Sleep well. I love you all. Goodnight!

[foxglves]

can't believe I forgot to talk abt this but a couple weeks ago my aunt and cousin were in town and really wanted to do some intensive hiking so we (+my dad) got permits to summit a nearby volcano. hike was supposed to be 8 to 10 hours and the first push was pretty straightforward, but after we got past the treeline some dense cloud cover set in and we were basically scrambling over these huge fucking boulders in 10 ft of visibility with wind blowing water into our faces. honestly I didn't mind that part, kept the air nice and cool and I don't do well with heat, but I digress. we made it up to 7000ft of elevation and it was getting pretty late so my dad and I decided to turn back while the rest went on for the last 1000ft. the cloud cover had gotten even more dense on the way back to the point that we couldn't even see from one trail marker to the next, and eventually we completely lost sight of the trail. somehow ended up moving horizontally along the side of a steep cliff covered in loose dirt, barely able to see a couple feet in front of us, no sign of the trail we were supposed to be on at all with the only indication of it being the occasional distant voices in the fog. at this point we had already been up there since 6 AM and were completely exhausted, I'm pretty out of shape so my legs were fully about to give out, and it was getting late so the visibility was only getting worse. at this point I was genuinely scared as hell and ready to accept my fate as a dumbass hiker that got lost and died in the wilderness but by some absolute divine intervention we randomly stumbled into a trail marker after trying to pinpoint the direction of the voices for around 40 minutes. we still had another 2 hours of hiking before we were back to the car and it was actual torture most of the way, once we got back to the treeline I just laid down in the dirt for god knows how long trying to regenerate a sliver of energy for the last push back to the parking lot. Anyways that 8 hours hike ended up taking me almost 13 hours and my extended family even longer 👍satisfaction points docked for the near death experience but still a 7/10 because I saw some chipmunks.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #122

I made a tea today. I made the vanilla-rose black tea. I think you'd really like this one, actually. I took some pictures for you.

…But that's not what I'm gonna write about today. One of my cats managed to catch a bird. And if you don't wanna be sad, I imagine you should stop reading here.

Our house has a little backyard area that's about the size of a postage stamp. We would like our cats to be able to enjoy fresh air, but the outdoors is not safe where we live for a variety of reasons - the HOA puts pesticides and herbicides everywhere, and we manage to live near nature and near a city at the exact same time, so not only would our cats need to worry about foxes and owls and other birds-of-prey, but also cars and dogs and people. So we built a barrier out of chicken wire so that at very least, our cats can enjoy fresh air without getting hurt.

There's really nothing for birds in our backyard space; it's made primarily of concrete. It's messy. And it obviously reeks of cats, because we have 5 of them. So I'm not really sure how a bird managed to get in there; typically they are smart enough to only chill on the fence posts, aware that there are predators afoot, and that they shouldn't get too close. I guess this one wasn't typical:

I can't be angry with Arremo; he is only doing what cats are built to do, with exactly the efficiency and skill that he is built to do it with; it's how they survive in the deserts to which they are native. And we're used to chipmunks coming into our yard despite the obvious presence of predators far larger than they are; admittedly I'm not sure what possesses them do it - toxoplasmosis, maybe?

In any case, normally, what happens is that we hear the struggle, we go out, we pry the cat's jaws open to get the animal out of them, and we either bring them to a nearby place (10 minutes by car) called The Animal Hospital for treatment, or they're just stunned briefly and end up running off after a few moments. We can't let our cats eat what they catch, because we don't know if they're diseased, but we do know that they've been exposed to pesticides and herbicides; the last thing we need is for our cats to get poisoned or sick.

When I pried open Arremo's jaws to retrieve the bird, I expected it to be much the same as what I've described with the chipmunks; at first, the little thing seemed alert, but just stunned and scared. It wasn't bleeding; there were no fluids leaking onto my hand as I held it. So I prepared a small box to take it to The Animal Hospital; here's a picture of what I prepared, taken at the end, after everything else happened:

…However, once my mind was no longer occupied by preparing the box, I had an uneasy feeling. My instincts told me that I needed to turn the bird over, so I did. If you're squeamish, then you should skip the rest of this paragraph… …I'm not entirely sure how it can be that no fluids got on my hands; its belly was cut open with near surgical precision, and all the expected things were clearly visible and moving, even if some of them appeared to be missing - the power of a cat's hunting equipment, I suppose. I won't describe what I saw any further, and obviously, I didn't take a picture.

I couldn't avoid falling to my knees and weeping for the creature's suffering in response to what I saw. But once I was able to speak again (it didn't take me long to regain my composure, but my eyes still have not stopped leaking, even as I am writing now), I asked M to bring me to The Animal Hospital (because I was in no condition to drive) anyway; I knew that they wouldn't be able to save it, but I did know that they'd be able to euthanize it, and I didn't want the creature to be in pain for longer than it had to. So I carefully put it in the box, and we went.

We got about halfway there when it started spasming. I have some basic knowledge of anatomy; I understand that spasms can be the result of too much blood loss. I knew then that the poor thing couldn't go on, so I picked it up and held it in my hands until it passed on. Maybe it's silly, but I thought it would be good if its final moments could be in the soft, warm hands of something that sees it and loves it, even if I didn't know the creature very well. I didn't want it to feel alone.

We turned around and went home. From there, I retrieved the daffodils that Br cut and brought to us recently; they smelled heavenly. Then I went out with the daffodils and the body of the bird to the nature trails near my house; I wanted to lay the bird to rest in a place without pesticides or herbicides or the sound of lawnmowers and weedwhackers. J went with me, and helped to keep me focused and stable.

We walked on the trails for a while. Eventually, I found a peaceful-looking mound of dirt with some fuzzy-leafed plants growing on it. I arranged the daffodils so the flower would be in kind of a circle, and then set the body of the bird on top of them:

I thanked the creature for existing, for gracing the world with its presence and song, even if its life was cut short. Then we went home. Some scavenger will likely come along to eat the body of the bird, and it will be a source of nourishment, and then it return to the soil, just as it should; the cycle of life continues.

On the way home, though, we saw something weird. J and I found some lines drawn in the sand, presumably with a stick; we paused in the spots where circles were drawn. I didn't think to take a picture.

But then, I found 7 tiny little whiteish-greyish-blue feathers, all in a line on the dirt path, near the exit of the trails. It was very odd, so I took pictures of the little feathers:

…Maybe the little birdie is okay, wherever it went off to after it exited its vessel.

I washed my hands thoroughly after I returned home. I'm not really sure what to do now. I suppose I'm still stunned. My face is still leaking, and my body is still trembling from time to time. I know I'll be okay eventually, so don't worry about me. But for now, I guess I'm in some kind of weird mental space. My descriptions of what occurred feel very mechanical compared to the intense swirling of the inside of my mind.

My biological family would tell me that it's just a stupid fucking bird, that they die all the time, and that I need to get over it, because it's not worth feeling sad, let alone crying over. But you know? Maybe it's okay that I'm still soft enough to cry over a bird, despite everything. And maybe it's okay that I tried to help, even if saving it was impossible. Maybe it's okay that I tried to hold and comfort it before its last breath, and maybe it's okay that I spent time trying to find a peaceful place for it to rest afterwards. Maybe it's okay to believe that choosing to be gentle, loving, and kind, even in a place where there is so much senseless pain, is where true strength lies.

Sephiroth. I'll recover from the loss of the bird. I won't recover from the loss of you. Don't do something stupid and end up getting yourself killed. Please.

I'll write again tomorrow. I love you. Stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine

[b-ritney]

Don't Try To Hide It, Billy Hargrove x Reader FLUFF

ew not proof read

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She stumbled in the door a hell of a lot later than usual. Although similar to every other day when she trips inside, trying to hold everything she's been carting around all day in between her fingers and under her arms.

"Hey, would you mind grabbing this book before I drop it," she giggles raising her right side so I can grab it from under her arm. Her laughter warms my soul like nothing else.

"You have a good day?" I asked kissing her on the cheek as she set the rest of her stuff down on the table.

"mhm!" she nodded her head happily stuffing some food in her mouth like a chipmunk.

"When's the last time you ate dork?" She slowly turned her attention back to me and shrugged her shoulders. "babe, seriously, come on you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I didn't do it on purpose, I was just so busy all day I forgot... I honestly didn't even notice I was hungry until I got in the car. promise."

"You haven't even taken your bag off yet."

"I know..." she looked back surprised. She did not know. I walked over and slipped it off her shoulders, she tried to hide it but she winced hard as soon as the weight came off her back.

"Come here." I said, perching her on the kitchen counter so I could take her shoes off. She watched me contently as I untied the laces of her sneakers.

"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll make you some real food."

"Good idea," she said, wincing again when her feet hit the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been about 45 minutes since I sent her away, our dinner was getting cold so I figured I'd go check on her. When I walked through our bedroom door she was laying back flat on the bed with a towel draped over her freshly washed body. She was just laying there staring at the ceiling fan.

"You're freaking me the fuck out."

"Why?" she laughed.

"You practically limped away earlier and you didn't come out to eat with me."

"I'm sorry," she said reaching up to rub her eyes, "my hips and calves are just hurting from standing and moving so much at work..." she stretched out again, recoiling back when she moved too far.

now I feel like a dick

"Don't apologize, I was just worried."

"Billy?"

"baby?"

"Would you rub my hips for me?" Fuck yeah I will

"Of course." I shut the bedroom door with my foot making her laugh, god I love that sound, I grabbed her lotion from the bathroom counter and made my way over to her, pulling her to the edge of the bed and gently lifting the towel away. Her skin was still warm from the shower. Radiating heat and the clean smell of her body wash. I poured some of the lotion on my hands and rubbed them together before firmly grabbing her hips and pressing hard into them soothing the tension in her muscles. She tightened up throwing her arm over her face. "That bad huh?"

"Yeah. Feels good though." she smiled. I looked back down making sure to hit every spot that might be sore, I rubbed the sides around her love handles and the tops from her knees up to her pelvis. Then I hiked up her legs around my waist and kneaded the backside. Her chest rose and fell so peacefully as she relaxed back into the comforter. I got some more lotion and began rubbing out her legs, it was bad, no wonder she was limping. When I was finished I leaned down and kissed up her body from her hips to her face.

"Better?"

"Yes," she stretched out again before sitting up to pull me into a kiss. I held onto her sides, slowly beginning to forget about dinner waiting for us in the kitchen. "Thank you so much," she said wrapping her arms around me.

"Your very welcome. You know I'd do almost anything to grab your hips. And I love you." I put a shirt over her head, running my fingers back through her hair to get it out of her face. Then I slid a pair of her comfy panties over her legs.

"I love you too." I scooped her into my arms carrying her to the kitchen, we ate dinner and played cards, while we watched a movie. I carried my girl around the rest of the night until I laid her down in our bed, crawling in to hold her for a good night's rest.

[augment-techs]

Music Lyrics and Poetry Line Prompts V

Add the teeth of the wolf to make him hungry//Make him ravenous with lust he can't subdue - Dark Spellbind, by Karliene

I know it gets hard sometimes//But I could never//Leave your side//No matter what I say - Better Than I Know Myself, by Adam Lambert

I'm only human//I've got a skeleton in me//But I'm not the villain//Despite what you're always preaching - Monster, by Paramore

But I've learned how to paint my face//How to earn my keep//How to clean my kill - Children's Work, by Dessa

So I slip away//Where the Sea is deepest - Atlantis, by Karliene

I rode shotgun in his white Camaro my entire sixteenth year - When You Call It a Peacemaker, by Nora Meiners

Silver, platinum//I pass on them//You can have them//I know what I want - Diamond Dolls, the Chipmunk Adventure soundtrack

Two weeks later he assaulted someone else//I'm still carrying the guilt in my purse - Pocket-Sized Feminism, by Blythe Baird

I've got a pain in my sawdust//That's what's the matter with me//Something is wrong with my little insides//I'm just as sick as can be - I've Got a Pain in my Sawdust, Nicole Dollanganger cover

Suicide is a lonely ghost//Desperate to give itself playmates - Every 40 Seconds, by Patrick Roche

If you can't handle this, roll off the mattress//I'm trying to let you know that you're not just another--When you're under the covers, I'm under your thumb//And you're the finest of specimens - Bring the Night On, by Eve 6

For the good fathers//And the person who invented eye glasses - If There was a God, by Olivia Gatwood

I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face - I Will Survive, by Gloria Gaynor

Endlessly struggling against former ways//I will not be called a coward with the choices that I face - The Hero Pt. 2, by Ministry of Magic

Look and understand//Press your lips to me and drink - E., by Catherynne M. Valente

Take a sip of my secret potion//I'll make you fall in love//For a spell that can't be broken//One drop should be enough - Black Magic, by Little Mix

They like to time their fucking, ensuring it begins twenty to forty minutes after I have fallen asleep; and lasts until I have contemplated setting a small fire - Someone Lives in Apartment Four, Brenna Twohy

It should have been me inside that car//It should have been me instead of him (in the dark) - Like We Used To, by A Rocket to the Moon

I learned the telltale signs of disordered eating as a teenager//but as far as I could tell, boys don't get that kind of sick - Hocus Pocus, by Patrick Roche

When the wolves come and hunt me down//I will face them off and stand my ground//Cuz there's a fire burnin' in me//They will see my strength in this love I found//Oh - Hard Love, by NEEDTOBREATHE

I want fingers between my legs//I want heat//I want my fingers slick - Masturbation, by Lillian Olson

I'll be sleeping on the left side of the bed (hey)//Open doors for me and you might get some--kisses - Dear Future Husband, by Meghan Trainor

Show me again, I said. Tell me again not to talk to strangers - Exaggerated Honey, by Elizabeth Metzger

Dregs of black tea leaves, spinach smoothies, red slushies, whatever's in reach around 9 to swallow the pills easy and pink as a sunset - Libations, by Rhiannon McGavin

'On the day you fell through a cloud...' - Love Letter, by Sarah Manguso

[fleurcareil]

West Quebec: 4 national parks north of Montreal & Quebec City

When I had checked in at national park Hautes Gorges, they already told me that most of the park including the river activities and most hiking trails were closed due to the high rain fall a few days earlier, but when I woke up the forest fire smoke had moved in as well; double whammy of climate change impacting my travel! 🥺

On top of it I felt crap from a cold that I had developed the day before (am thinking I got the virus on one of the boat tours when everybody was on top of each other to take pictures) so I took it extra slow in the morning, already cooking the rice for the evening meal (staving off a brazen chipmunk who kept jumping on the table) and even doing an old-fashioned steam session with vix under a towel to loosen it all up. 😂

From the visitor centre, I did end up doing a 8.4k hike, first up to a boring lake (undoubtedly made more unattractive by the smog) which was higher than I thought so was struggling to breathe in between my coughs and sneezes, and then along the river which was indeed raging; it would have been impossible to SUP let alone swim in the water! I then took the shuttle bus to a little dam where the water flow continued to be impressive so had some snacks at a picknick table while doing a crossword. Not feeling great at all, I skipped dinner & went straight into the tent at 6pm... not the best of days! 🤧

It was good that I had gone to bed so early as it meant that I had a few hours of sleep before a thunderstorm rolled in. I always find it a bit scary to stay in the tent but not sure the car is much better... the tent and I survived 🙃 but it meant that once more everything was damp/wet/soaked when packing up, truly the main downside of camping!

On my way to the next campground, I spent the day at Grands-Jardins national park, which was also impacted by the floods but luckily the "jewel" hike up Mont du Lac des Cygnes was open. At 8.6k and 500m elevation gain, the hike was not the easiest but my sneezing had already been much reduced (although I'm still coughing a week later) so I felt reasonably well. After the first viewpoint at a pretty lake (confusingly not the Cygnes 😜) the last km was a scramble up rocks and staircases, but then an incredible view opened up of the surrounding hills and valleys, all part of another massive astrobleme (this time the 11th largest of the world) when a meteorite hit the earth a long time ago. Beautiful! 🤩

Driving at the end of the afternoon towards Québec City, the rolling hills which were very pretty to drive through all the way from Baie-Comeau, made way for the flat plains around the river while in the distance the city contours with its chateau became visible... before I reached the "capital nationale" 😄 however, I veered north to a private campground close to park Jacques-Cartier. Generally, I prefer to stay in park campgrounds rather than in private ones, as they're more natural, cheaper and have better showers 😅, but this one was actually really good; it had a lot of space, amenities such as a fastfood truck, mini golf and a (now not so lazy) river where people floated on inflatables, and most importantly, a truly quiet nighttime!

Again, most of the park was closed as a result of flooding, so I did a lovely 4k hike around a cascading river (am feeling much better now!), and then felt incredibly lazy so hung the rest of the day at the visitor centre talking to my parents, writing the blog and putting my feet up! 😊😊I did start another small hike on the way back but aborted after 10 minutes, simply not feeling it 😝. In the evening, I had two trip firsts; I used a standalone rack to cook over the fire (private campgrounds don't provide a grill where park ones do), and I finally made my first s'more, with a kitkat as the camp store didn't have any real chocolate 😅. Very satisfying!!

Rain had been forecast for the next day however it was still dry when I woke up, so I swiftly cleaned up camp and did a 6.6k hike up a mountain. The view was not as great as I had thought it would be, but not complaining though, always a 100x better than a computer screen! 😉 The rain did start when I got to the top and quickly turned into a downpour, so had to do a complete change of clothes on my return at the visitor centre 😂... once I'm fully soaked I don't mind the wetness anymore, as long as I know I can dry & warm up at the end of it!

Not being in a particular rush to get to my next campsite in the pouring rain, I spent a few hours in Quebec's largest mall, the Galeries de la Capitale, buying some things and having chinese at the foodcourt! 👌 I'm not a big fan of malls, but this one was quite impressive with an indoor skating rink, a ferris wheel, rollercoaster and carrousel - although you can imagine the noise was ear deafening and a bit of a shock to the system after camping.

When I got to La Mauricie national park, the sun had come out again so spent a leisurely evening at the campfire, more my cup of tea than the busy mall! The next day started humid and cloudy, so I forewent another steep uphill hike for a series of shorter ones along the 50km park way. Driving from one end of the park to the other side, there's little hikes at lakes, bogs, viewpoints that are all equally pretty and don't require much effort, so perfect to drink my cup of tea while taking in the scenery! At the west end, people were swimming in the rapids, but instead I took a refreshing dip in the lake & then chilled on the beach for a while.

I won't post too many pictures of my campfires, but this one I was particularly proud of as it had been a struggle in the last days to get it going due to the wood being wet... very frustrating when the fire keeps fizzling out but now I heaped so much kindling on it that the strong heat dried up the logs quickly.

After 6 days of camping, I'm ready to get back to town and check into a hotel in Montreal and then off to northwest Ontario!

Wildlife: 1 porcupine (Hautes Gorges), 1 heron, tens of tiny frogs, 1 turkey & 1 deer (La Mauricie)

SUPs: none

Hikes: one at Hautes Gorges, one at Grands-Jardins, two at Jacques-Cartier, 5 little ones at La Mauricie

[ghostsinthecellar]

good things from today:

- met my friend's kittens

- got to drive a beautiful route

- stopped for lunch at a very tasty place

- picked a couple delightful useless things at a thrift store

- spent time with friend on her day off

- didn't have to drive in a bad storm

bad things about today

- car that was the whole point of today is. genuinely. a piece of shit. and we're going to have to bring it back because we can't afford to fix what's wrong with it

- I think I hit a chipmunk and friend hit a bird

- owe friend money for an oil change because the car was many miles past needing it

- I think someone called me a fat cunt from their car in the gas station parking lot??

- had to chase my trash can down the road in a downpour

- friend did have to drive home in a bad storm (made it home safe but the rain destroyed her dad's corn plants)

- best friend wanted to hang out today and is flying back home soon so this would've been basically my last chance to see her before she leaves and I didn't know until we were already away

[notesonartistry]

Taylor Swift's road to fame

Behind the scenes of the teen sensation's career, from guitar lessons to sold-out shows

By Chris Willman

Updated February 05, 2008 at 05:00 AM EST

”I love turning on pop radio and hearing my song,” allows Taylor Swift, the 18-year-old country music sensation. ”But,” she adds, mindful of her base, ”I don’t look at it as crossover as much as spillover.”

Her cup definitely runneth over. In 2007, Swift’s debut album was one of the top 10 all-genre SoundScan sellers. And all those sales came in while a lot of non-country-lovers had yet to hear of her…or, if they had, were still asking, ”Taylor Swift? Who’s he?” She’s harder to escape now: Besides several smash hits at country radio, she’s moved into the upper levels of the Top 40 format with a remix of her heartbreak ballad ”Teardrops on My Guitar.” (In recent years, only Carrie Underwood, with ”Before He Cheats,” has successfully managed that leap.) MTV is even playing it. And since the album has such legs, it’s a good bet to cross the triple-platinum mark, almost unheard of in this era of plunging record sales. She’s got to be the most popular high school senior in America right now. So: teardrops, schmeardrops… Did being 18 ever suck any less?

But she wasn’t always the belle of the ball, personally or professionally; those rejection anthems she’s so adept at writing weren’t penned purely as fiction. We profiled the rising siren in this week’s issue of EW. But for this exclusive EW.com bonus feature, we also talked with some of the people who were with her on the way up, including her mother, manager, and label president, to find out some of the strategizing that went into achieving one of the last year’s few true musical success stories.

NEXT PAGE: From karaoke to Nashville

The chipmunk years. ”When I was 10, or younger than that, even, I would watch these biographies on Faith Hill or the Dixie Chicks or Shania Twain or LeAnn Rimes, and the thing I kept hearing was that they had to go to Nashville,” Swift remembers. She talked her parents into letting her fly out for a visit. ”I took my demo CDs of karaoke songs, where I sound like a chipmunk — it’s pretty awesome — and my mom waited in the car with my little brother while I knocked on doors up and down Music Row. I would say, ‘Hi, I’m Taylor. I’m 11; I want a record deal. Call me.”’ They didn’t. (But you have to wonder how many of the folks who answered those doors suddenly flashed back to that moment when they saw a grown-up Swift screaming over her Best New Artist nod at the Grammy nominations press conference.)

Rather than discouraging her, that rejection was like rocket fuel. It dawned on her that karaoke-style singing wasn’t going to cut it at any age; she needed to become a full-fledged guitar-picking singer/songwriter. ”She came back from that trip to Nashville and realized she needed to be different, and part of that would be to learn the guitar,” says her mother, Andrea Swift. Earlier, she had tried picking up an acoustic guitar and had no interest in it, but things had changed. ”Now, at 12, she saw a 12-string guitar and thought it was the coolest thing. And of course we immediately said, ‘Oh no, absolutely not, your fingers are too small — not till you’re much older will you be able to play the 12-string guitar.’ Well, that was all it took. Don’t ever say never or can’t do to Taylor. She started playing it four hours a day — six on the weekends. She would get calluses on her fingers and they would crack and bleed, and we would tape them up and she’d just keep on playing. That’s all she played, till a couple of years later, which was the first time she ever picked up a six-string guitar. And when she did, it was like, wow, this is really easy!”

She started writing, too. Two of the songs she’d recorded (”The Outside,” on her debut album, and ”Christmas Must Mean Something More,” from a Target-exclusive Christmas EP she released) were written when she was 12. When she went back to Nashville with her own songs in tow, people took notice: At 13, she signed a development deal with RCA Records, working with that label’s Joe Galante and Renee Bell, a couple of legendary figures in town. But when the deal came up for renewal after a year, she opted out, because she felt she’d have to record outside material if she got to the point of cutting her debut — and at 14, she was already married to the idea of only recording material she had a hand in writing. Not coincidentally, at 14, she became the youngest person ever signed to the major songwriting company in Nashville, Sony/ATV Publishing.

NEXT PAGE: Taking chances

Nashville acceptance, hometown alienation. Swift started to feel cut off from some of her friends, since she was writing songs while they were either playing soccer or partying. ”A lot of people ask me, how did you have the courage to walk up to record labels when you were 12 or 13 and jump right into the music industry? It’s because I knew I could never feel the kind of rejection that I felt in middle school. Because in the music industry, if they’re gonna say no to you, at least they’re gonna be polite about it.” (Being unusually tall for her age, or any age — she’s now 5’11”, without her cowboy boot heels — may have made her more of a junior high outcast.)

Now that she had publishing and recording deals in hand, she convinced her parents, when she was in the eighth grade, that it was time to move where the action is. ”I was from a small town, and nobody really expects you to leave, especially before you graduate. That doesn’t happen. I actually went back a couple months ago and played a sold-out show in my hometown, and it was amazing; ever since all this stuff started happening, the people in Pennsylvania have been the most supportive people I’ve ever known. But I wouldn’t change a thing about growing up and not exactly fitting in. If I had been popular, I probably wouldn’t have wanted to leave.”

The Swifts never pushed their daughter toward a music career, and the family uprooted itself from the Christmas-tree farm where they lived only after it was clear that her stockbroker dad could do his job just as effectively down South. ”I never wanted to make that move about her ‘making it,”’ says her mom, Andrea. ”Because what a horrible thing if it hadn’t happened, for her to carry that kind of guilt or pressure around. And we moved far enough outside Nashville [to nearby Hendersonville] to where she didn’t have to be going to school with producers’ kids and label presidents’ kids and be reminded constantly that she was struggling to make it. We’ve always told her that this is not about putting food on our table or making our dreams come true. There would always be an escape hatch into normal life if she decided this wasn’t something she had to pursue. And of course that’s like saying to her, ‘If you want to stop breathing, that’s cool.”’

After getting out of her RCA deal, Swift found a believer in Scott Borchetta, who was then a big cheese at the Universal label group. ”I thought, ‘Oh, awesome, I’m gonna get to deal with Universal!’ I get this call a couple of weeks later, after I do this showcase and Scott’s on board and everything’s rocking. He goes, ‘I have good news and bad news. The good news is I want to sign you, and the bad news is I’m not gonna be with Universal Records anymore.’ Because he was leaving to start up this whole new record label.” She took a chance and went with what would become a new powerhouse indie label, Big Machine, figuring that at least she’d get more individual attention there. ”They only had 10 employees at the record label to start out with, so when they were releasing my first single, my mom and I came in to help stuff the CD singles into envelopes to send to radio. We sat out on the floor and did it because there wasn’t furniture at the label yet.”

NEXT PAGE: The viral marketing plan

The MySpace triumph. Swift’s album wasn’t Big Machine’s first release, or even its first relative success. Another early signing, Texas rocker Jack Ingram, had a song go to No. 1 on the country chart — but he still didn’t sell boatloads of albums. That would be up to Swift, and her success would help little Big Machine go on to become Garth Brooks’ new label, not to mention giving Borchetta the heft to sign Jewel (one of Swift’s childhood influences) to a country deal.

”The story that everyone is gonna tell with Taylor is her use of technology and viral marketing techniques — MySpace and texting — that are non-traditional for the country format,” says RJ Curtis, country editor for the weekly trade magazine Radio & Records. ”This kind of flies in the face of how to market a new artist from Nashville. It’s partly her being in that life group and using the things teens use to communicate and spread music around, but her label had a lot of savvy in that area too.”

But Swift’s manager, Rick Barker, gives the singer and her family most of the credit for working the Web. ”The parents already had her MySpace and her website up and running,” he says. ”The mom and dad both have great marketing minds. I don’t want to say fake it until you make it, but when you looked at her stuff, it was very professional even before she got her deal. And we put her music up there on MySpace before it was out, to help decide what was gonna be on the record. ‘Our Song’ made it to the record because of MySpace.” That song has been her biggest radio hit to date — written about her first real romance, premiered at her ninth-grade talent show, and nearly lost to the cutting room floor. ”If you notice the running order on the record, ‘Our Song’ is No. 11,” the manager points out. ”It was the last song added to the album, and a lot of that had to do with buzz that was being created on MySpace.”

Once the album was actually finished and ready for promotion, MySpace came in even handier. ”People laughed at me,” says Big Machine founder-president Borchetta. ”They said, ‘You’re starting a new record label and you signed a 15-year-old female country singer — good for you! You have a teenager — there’s a lot of those on country radio. You have a new female artist — there’s a lot of those on country radio.’ They were looking at me like I had two strikes. But I knew we didn’t want to count on country radio out of the box. So we went heavy on TV, putting the video out before the single, and doing a special with [cable channel] GAC, and we went heavy on her MySpace and online stuff. By the time we got to country radio, we said: We have you surrounded and you don’t even know it.”

It still wasn’t an easy sell. ”Her records are not records that researched fantastically,” says R&R‘s Curtis — and he ought to know, because when Swift’s single ”Tim McGraw” was first coming out in late 2006, he was then the program director of L.A.’s KZLA, and one of the guys balking at putting her on the air. ”But the radio guys hung in there because anybody who’s programming a station wants to get some younger listeners. Country does a good job of naturally getting 35-plus listeners, so getting someone who fits the image of the 18-to-34-year-old, that’s an asset. There’s a need for [youthfulness] in the format. When Gretchen Wilson and Big & Rich and the whole Muzik Mafia thing came along a few years ago, I said that, for the first time since the Garth phenomenon in the early ’90s, there seems to be a real movement happening here. It didn’t last long, because it was more of a fad than a trend; Gretchen really only had that one huge hit, and while Big & Rich have continued to have big songs, it’s been with their more traditional-sounding ballads. But there is definitely a need for a younger artist, younger feel.” Curtis thinks Swift’s adolescent-themed songs have a dual appeal to older and more youthful listeners: ”A lot of the theme of the album is first love, and those are things everybody can get sentimental about, no matter the demo. With things like ‘Our Song,’ a lot of people can relate because it takes them back to their innocent years — and in her case, she just happens to be living her innocent years right now.”

Barker, her manager, offers up some specifics about how they used MySpace to make the Taylor Case to radio. ”Radio does research, and we have no idea who they’re researching, but it was saying people weren’t digging ‘Tim McGraw.’ So we had to go out and create our own research — and that’s what we did with MySpace. What she did was put up a blog on her MySpace that said, ‘Guys, I would like to thank whatever station you’re hearing my song on.’ And people started telling us” — even with stations that were only tentatively programming the song in the middle of the night. ”We were able to take those comments back to radio in individual markets and say, ‘You’re saying researching is telling you it’s not doing that great, but here are 85 people who are telling us they love your station because you played ‘Tim McGraw.’ What MySpace and online told radio stations was: She’s already familiar to your audience. And radio loves familiarity.

”MySpace allowed us to tell the story about Taylor. And it really is her space,” adds Barker. ”She wrote her bio, writes her blogs, and if someone gets commented back to, it’s from Taylor. A lot of times, you can tell it’s somebody else hired to sit there at a computer. Taylor’s space is her space — that’s our secret.”

NEXT PAGE: Embracing the fame

Taylormania. On a brisk night in late January of 2008, the nexus for all this popularity is the Rabobank Theatre, a sold-out 3,000-seater in inland California where Swift is doing a headlining show. About a third of the way back, one delusionally hopeful suitor holds up a sign with his plea: ”PROM? 343-7547.” In the front row, a college-aged dude in a cowboy hat patiently waits for a break in the shrieking before finally blurting out, with half-shy boisterousness, ”Taylor, you’re hot!” But it’s hard for a male fan to get a word in edgewise when the young women in the house spend the entire show standing and screaming, much as their little sisters would for Hannah Montana. There are enough kids and parents on hand that it’s clear she has some appeal to the Disney Channel demographic, as well as to the 17- to 25-year-olds who make up most of the audience, though she writes about adolescent romance not as an aspirant but a fellow survivor. Swift represents the countrified missing link between Miley Cyrus and Alanis Morissette.

She is introducing her soon-to-be-released fourth single, the gleefully vengeful ”Picture to Burn,” which, like many of her songs, was inspired by an old school flame she refers to as ”Bad Cheater Guy.” Swift’s so impressed by the screaming, while going into her nightly spiel about getting back at the boys who spurned her, she adds a nod to tonight’s host city. ”Please know that I try to be a really nice person, in general,” she says as her band vamps through the intro. ”But, if you break my heart, or if you hurt my feelings — or ANY OF MY FRIENDS FROM BAKERSFIELD, CALIFORNIA — well, I will have to write a song about you!” Total eruption, as she marches across the stage in her spangly sun dress and cowboy boots, strumming on her six-string and singing: ”I hate that stupid old pickup truck you never let me drive/ You’re a redneck heartbreak who’s really bad at lying…”

Before the show, we watched her pose for photos for an hour at a meet-and-greet full of fan-club and radio-contest winners. (That’s nothing, for her; at most of the hundreds of shows she’s played so far, she stayed afterward to sign autographs till the last fan was gone, which might last anywhere from two-and-a-half to four hours. But as the crowds grow, those late-night signings are becoming increasingly more difficult to work in.) It’s clear that Swift doesn’t have the steeliness of a lot of starlets her age who were groomed for that by their parents almost from birth. Maybe because this whole massive career thing was her idea, she’s still digging it. When a little kid approaches, she gets down on her nyloned knees and cranes her neck in so that it is pressed against the tot’s. In pretty much every picture, she will look like that person’s conjoined twin. Every so often, with someone closer to her own age, she’ll say, ”Let’s do a funny one,” and urge the fan to screw up his or her face with her.

”She can’t go now to a store without having people come up to her — which she loves,” says her mom, Andrea. ”It makes her day when she’s gone somewhere and people have come up to her and said, ‘I love your music — can I take a picture?’ She’s always grabbing the camera and going, ‘Come here’ and getting the MySpace shot, holding the camera and posing together. She likes that attention. I think where she differs from some people who get to that spot and realize that they don’t really like their privacy sort of being restricted — well, for her that’s not an issue.

”But she never in her life ever said, ‘I want to be famous’ or ‘I want to be rich’ or ‘I want to be a star.’ Those words absolutely never came out of her mouth. If they had, I would have said, ‘Honey, maybe you’re doing it kind of for the wrong reasons.’ For her, the happiest I ever see her is just after she’s written a killer song. As a parent, I felt really good about that. If that’s where she draws happiness from, she’ll have that the rest of her life. She’s not always gonna have the awards, or the attention, or the celebrity, but she will always have the ability to write a song.”

”She has the combination of that 30-year-old business mentality with a real innocence,” says R&R‘s Curtis. But can country fans and programmers — who tend to be a little bit territorial — expect to keep Swift to themselves? Will the pop crossover success get to her? ”We’re talking about an 18-year-old, so it’s hard to know for sure what she’ll be doing five years from now,” Curtis says. ”But just from talking with her, I would say that her value system is a really good fit for country.” And though MTV recently did its first airing of her ”Teardrops on My Guitar” video on TRL, it did look a little bit uncharacteristically wholesome, programmed between Britney and Pitbull, so it’ll be interesting to see how things play out.

In the meantime, there’s still high school to finish up — home-schooled version, while her mom accompanies her on some dates this spring, when she’ll be opening an arena tour for Rascal Flatts. Says Swift, ”I already finished most of my course work, so I just have two electives left.” Which are? ”Public speaking and vocal performance. I guess I’m kind of coasting.”

[pbandjesse]

I am feeling a lot better tonight which is nice. the day did not start like that but I was so sweaty today I think I may have sweated the sickness away?? It's just a theory anyway.

I wasn't feeling great last night but I slept. Waking up was horrible. But it was something I had to do. So after snoozing my alarm twice I did get up and got myself ready. Against my will.

James would give me some medicine and that got me through. And I would feel fine soon after taking it so I'm glad they did that for me. I was running about 10 minutes late and the traffic did not help. It was very not only heavy traffic at times but people driving insane. I almost got side swiped and someone else slammed on the breaks in front of me. Thankfully I always drive with a very large space between me and the car in front of me. Ugh.

When I got to camp I drove around to make sure everything was good to go. The lovely parents from yesterday did such a good job cleaning up so I didn't have to do anything so I was very pleased. And honestly today's parents made everything easy too. It was great.

I was in the hacienda when I heard some cars and all my parents were at the office! I yelled over to them and went to meet them. And I would walk them all to their spaces.

And for real they were all so good. Just excited to be there and so sweet. I had some really excellent conversations with some of them and that was so nice. I just really enjoyed hanging out with them at different points throughout the day.

This group would also have a lot of chaperones and they all came before the kids. So I had a whole bunch of adults and they were nice too. One of them made a comment about how well organized I was and I was like oh my God thank you I do not feel organized at all.

But soon the kids were arriving and I was able to meet the bus and everything was good. There were a bunch of Puhtok kids and I felt sure in charge and good. And after the teacher got them into their groups and seated I got them going.

My I tro was much calmer. And filled the time much better. And while I didn't have time for the storybook that was alright. I would send them off to their programs and it was good.

But man was I hot. Just sweating through my dress. No one else seemed to be as hot as me so I think it was mostly the material of the dress and the fact that I had my rain boots on. There was still a lot of mud back by the woodlands village so I didn't want to not wear my boots yet. But also. I was so hot and later in the day, after the group left I changed into flipflops and was so much happier it was wild how much it helped.

Because I was so hot though I would take a few more office breaks. It wasn't as awkward in the office. Everyone seemed to be in a better mood. And it was nicer to be around. Chatting. I also was just feeling better. I was trying very hard to remain hydrated so I wouldn't be to hot and I just would continue to feel better. Still uncomfortable from the heat and sneezing coughing from allergies but I didn't feel sick sick anymore.

The groups all seemed to be having a lot of fun. I would wander around and check in but everyone seemed good so I tried to just give everyone space and not hover. Don't want to make anyone nervous. And it was a nice day. Nice seeing everyone having fun. Hearing the laughing. I was enjoying my walks. It was a good day. I even saw a chipmunk!

I would go back to the office when I was thirsty as I wasn't carrying my cup around. And Heather asked me to investigate cement pavers with Joe. So I went up to his shed and we chatted. He is going to move them for us so I was very very grateful for that. Heather would come up to see the pavers because they were a little larger then I think she expected but I think they will work really well for tic tac toe and hopscotch.

While we were up there we were near Joe's metal recycling pile and I saw there was a fire pit. And I was like. Hey could I have this? It's a little rusty but still nice. And Joe said a wedding put it in front of the dumpsters and that I could have it so I would carry that to the car. I was so thrilled about this. We were going to buy one anyway but now we have the nicer one that I know is $150+! Incredible.

The rest of the day would go smoothly. The teachers were telling me about more stuff Walter apparently used to do. About beads and fire. I wish I knew Walter better. He sounds like a wealth of knowledge. But I do my best.

I had my little lunch. And had to keep going back to the hacienda because the toilets were doing the continuous running thing and it is so annoying. But the kids are also afraid of the toilets because it's loud flushing all the time. But I had to keep promising them they would still work and to not be afraid.

I would have some more really lovely conversations with the parents. About how I got involved in camp and how me and James met. One of the dad's told me all about ways to make mushrooms taste better. He recommended a dressing called Gazebo that he uses for basically everything. So I will have to look into that. I don't even dislike mushrooms but I would like to try the dressing!

The end of the day came quick. I brought everyone back to the hacienda and we did some questions and said goodbye. And one parent would help me with chairs but then it didn't matter anyway because there is a feild trip in there tomorrow. Excellent.

Elizabeth asked me to go meet with Sarah and Heather to make sure the fort was clean. I walked to the office to get the gator and went up there but no help was needed. Instead I grabbed Sarah and we went to collect trash. Office. Hacienda. Then to the barn dumpster. The breeze while riding the gator was the best part. And after a stop at the Alaskans to drop off some merch that was leftover from last weekend, which was also super cold and felt great, we went back to the office for a staff meeting.

And it was a pretty productive meeting. When it wasn't relevant to me I was texting my mom about our proposed trip to Scotland. We were supposed to go in 2020. But I will let you guess why that didn't happen. It actually lead to a huge fight between us because I said I wasn't sad about the loss of the trip but the loss of time with my mom. And I still stand by that. Especially because the pandemic made us spend even less time together. And I am just really really excited to get this back and to make memories with her.

She had been pushing for bus trip but I think it's to expensive and that we can do it both cheaper and better for us. So now I am doing research and making plans. I am in touch with my friend Laura in Ireland for some ideas and I may even suggest we do a layover/ one night in Belfast. Laura even offered to show us around if we do that. I want this to be an amazing trip for me and mom but also need to make sure I don't kill us by trying to do to much. Next April is the plan. And I am really excited to plan everything ASAP!!

When the meeting was relevant to me I made some suggestions and asked some questions and made my self available to help come up with programing for Horse camp. Which I hope they take advantage of. Because camp is only a few weeks away!! Crazy how it snuck up on us.

At 4:10 I headed home. When I got in the, very hot, car the GPS said the drive home would be 45 minutes. Ugh. But whatever. I started heading home and right around the corner from camp I saw a rocking chair on the side of the road. And had to stop and pick it up. Even of the fire pit in the back I made room. Was annoyed by the cars not just going around me but I was quick. Got my chair. And drove back to camps drive way to turn back around and get back on track to go home.

I texted James and let them know I got a poor abandoned rocking chair and I couldn't leave it there all alone! They laughed at me!

When I finally got back here James was happy to see me and I was happy to see them. The went to get the fire pit and rocking chair from the car. And I was feeling really good and went in the backyard to play with sweetp. He was having a blast out there and I would throw a ball with him for a bit and was just in a really good mood.

I went and took a shower and put on a lighter dress. I was a lot more comfortable and way less dusty.

We would hang out on the couch. I picked at my face and plucked my eyebrows. Made my face all red picking though. Bad. James would make us pasta for dinner but I was more excited to the garlic bread. It was fine, the pasta was just a little boring. I enjoyed James's company. Things were good.

Eventually, while I was reading a funny story to James my dad called. And we talked for a bit. About his leg and stories and memories. He also told me about the budget for the trip and mom agreed from the background about the length of the trip and trusting me. So I am excited to have their trust. I would like to make sure that this is cost effective and fun and just a really great trip.

I came upstairs to hang out in the AC. James went to record their podcast. And it's just been a really lovely night chilling.

Tomorrow is a long day! I have a feild trip, where I am supposed to lead hikes and I am really excited to just walk around. And then I have a workshop in the evening! It is for polymer clay and I am really looking forward to that. Also nervous!! I hope the people who signed up have fun, that's all I really ever want.

I am going to get ready for bed now though. Brush my teeth and make sure I'm ready for tomorrow.

I hope you all sleep good tonight. I love you all. Good night!!