#but it's SO OLD that i basically have to buy everything again but the case

[bossuary]

i just want to play pretty games in 4k why does that have to cost as much as a car? **WHINE**

[rubberduckyrye]

Getting my playlists sorted for the big Move to....... my iphone......

Ick!!!

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[delphi-shield]

OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs

the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.

Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 

It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 

He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 

Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.

Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.

”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”

At least you get movie dates out of it.

Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.

I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.

Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.

Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.

Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.

Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?

Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.

He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'

Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.

Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.

She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.

Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.

And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.

If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.

Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.

Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.

Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.

Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.

Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.

Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)

Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.

Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?

Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.

Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 

Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”

Unironically sent you a minion meme once.

It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.

If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!

If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.

Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.

[kaile-hultner]

Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post

In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.

Hey y’all,

For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website. 

If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode. 

This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know. 

I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s kaile@noescapevg.com. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support. 

Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.

Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted. 

Hi y’all,

My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years. 

Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.” 

I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH. 

Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money. 

So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time. 

I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount… I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe. 

Milestones – bolded are high-priority

Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on. 

Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.

Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans 

$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts. 

$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving. 

$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra. 

I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life. 

I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this. 

—Kaile

[gremlingottoosilly]

The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]

Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.

CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)

Word count: 3246

This work on AO3

You’re such a sunshine, it hurts. 

John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls. 

His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents. 

But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it. 

When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation. 

John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks. 

But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment. 

You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own. 

God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice. 

You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only. 

— I can fold my own pants, love. 

He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken. 

— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…

— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry. 

— Little minx. 

— Me or Lady Lasswell? 

John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine. 

You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light. 

God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya. 

He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him. 

Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons. 

The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about. 

You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea. 

Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him. 

He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you. 

Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny. 

He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness. 

Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least. 

— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price. 

You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least. 

You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move. 

Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are. 

His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker. 

— Shite, love. Sorry. 

His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one. 

He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he? 

— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second. 

— Not a chance. 

Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you. 

You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate. 

John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him. 

— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way. 

— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home? 

He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around. 

You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again. 

— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…

Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite. 

He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin. 

Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper. 

Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to. 

— Help your captain, eh? 

You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t. 

He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him. 

John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his. 

— This is not very… appropriate, sir.

— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here. 

 You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little. 

He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact. 

Price moans. 

— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy. 

The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers. 

— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this. 

He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy. 

God, what are you even thinking about? 

You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you? 

— We really shouldn’t be doing this. 

— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir. 

— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here. 

He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly. 

He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly. 

— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…

Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are. 

Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave. 

— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this. 

You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife. 

[badkitty3000]

Do you have any head cannons of five as a dad? Like just any head cannons how he would behave but also like how that would change him being in the bedroom (like stamina, pace, etc…)!

Yeah, I might have a few *proceeds to furiously write 1.7k words*

I love writing Five as a dad! He's such a strong character that loves his family, so I can see him being a very hands-on, engaged father. I like to think that throughout most of his life he never would have thought having a family of his own would ever be possible, so that if he did become a dad, it would be the best feeling for him. He would want to give his kid everything he never had, which is a solid family life, and unconditional love. 😭❤️

Warnings: A little mention of sex under "pregnancy" and then the very end section labeled "sex" is smut and sappiness

Five Dad Headcanons

Pregnancy: Five is going to be over the moon excited when he learns you are pregnant with his child. Then, he’s going to become the most annoying person on the planet. He will remind you daily to take your vitamins and make sure you eat healthy and remain active. He will be the one reading all of the pregnancy and parenting books, glancing up every so often to tell you some fact he’s just learned and then making a little note in the margin to refer back to at a later time. He will go out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and safe, to the point of going overboard and insisting he go with you everywhere. What if you go into premature labor at the grocery store and he’s not there? He better go along. Same goes with all doctor’s appointments. He needs a chance to ask the doctor about a few of his concerns that he read about in the most recent 'OBGYN Journal' article. Your car will be equipped with the safest damn car seat money can buy, and will be installed during your first trimester. Just in case. And if you think this is getting you off the hook when it comes to his insatiable sexual appetite, think again. You are even sexier while pregnant, so be prepared to learn some fun new positions. It’s actually very good for the baby! Trust him, he read all about it.

Newborns: Five actually loves the newborn stage. He can’t resist a good stress-project and thrives on no sleep and caffeine. He’s more than happy to let you sleep in while he gets up to take care of the baby and you’ll often find him passed out on the couch with the baby asleep on his chest. Babies are easy. They’re small, have basic needs, and can’t talk back or walk yet. He’ll adapt to fatherhood right away, and he’s not sure why people make such a big deal out of it; it’s not that hard.

Toddlers: Ok, maybe kids aren’t so easy after all. Why are they so loud? And irritating? And sticky all of the time? He loves his child more than anything in the world, but damn…he is old and tired; can he get five minutes of quiet, please? And what is with these absolutely idiotic kids' shows he is forced to watch? This is why the human population is getting dumber! Make no mistake, he will still be the doting father and take them to the park, read them books at bedtime, and play their little make believe games like tea party or dragon hunters. He loves hearing them laugh and his heart will melt when he feels their little hand in his or he gets a sloppy kiss on the mouth. When they fall asleep in the car, he’ll carry them to bed and stare lovingly down at their little sleeping face while he thinks how lucky he is to be their dad. Until he finds wet Play-doh smashed into the pocket of his favorite suit coat and he starts to reconsider a few things.

Hardship stories: Five’s kid will never be able to complain about anything in life without immediately getting an “I had it worse” story. Parents love to tell their kids how bad they had it growing up, so just imagine the jackpot of childhood trauma stories Five would bestow upon his child. He does not want them to suffer in any way, or get seriously hurt, but if they come home with a scraped knee after falling off their bike, he’s going to have a real hard time being sympathetic. “You know, when I was ten, I broke my tibia in two places and suffered a concussion after defeating an armed man twice my size, and I still had to show up on time for training the next day.” When your teenager is complaining about having to do chores around the house, there will be no end to the list of apocalyptic hardship stories. “Oh, you think mowing the lawn is hard? Do you know what I was doing at your age? Dragging all my shitty things in a rusted-out wagon across a barren landscape under the blazing hot sun looking for water after eating nothing but a can of rotten pears and one very scrawny cockroach. But please…go on.”

Powers: If it turns out that his kid has powers like his, Five would be so happy! He has a little mini-me that he can teach to blink and nerd out with about the physics required to do so! Then he’s going to get scared. What if they accidentally blink themselves into oncoming traffic? Or they try to time travel like he did and get stuck somewhere? His fear is going to bring out some of the worst in him; coming up with strict rules and insisting on constant practicing to make sure no accidents occur. This leads to some major butting of heads between the two of them. That’s where you come in to remind Five that he is not Reginald and he needs to stop acting like it before he destroys his relationship with his own child. Once you make him see that he needs to back off a little, things get a lot better and the two end up forming a strong bond over their powers

School: Five, overall, has no real use for school. Not that he doesn’t want his child to do well academically, because he does. Especially in high school, if their grades started slipping, he would definitely be up their ass about it. But school as an institution in general? Not interested. You won’t be seeing Five at a PTO meeting or volunteering to bring in snacks for a class holiday party. If his child gets in trouble for something minor and the school calls him about it, that’s probably the last time they are going to do that. “Let me get this straight…you called me in the middle of my day to tell me my kid said the f-word in class? Well, here’s a thought. How about you just do your fucking job and don’t fucking call me again unless someone is fucking bleeding or dead? We good here? Great.”

Proud Dad: Five would be so proud of everything his child did and he would tell them so all the time. But he would try and tone it down so he didn’t look so eager to brag about them to everyone he sees. When they are little, he’ll casually point out the picture of a house that is hanging on the refrigerator to anyone that comes over. “See that? Pretty good for six, don’t you think? I mean, I’m not saying it’s a DaVinci or anything, but it’s good right?” If they play sports, he’ll be at every game, but he’s not going to be the screaming, cheering parent in the stands. He’ll be watching everything very carefully, studying all of the players on the opposing team and learning their weaknesses to coach your child on it later. If the ref makes a bad call, though, he’ll be the first one to jump up screaming “Are you kidding me? What are you, blind? That was clearly a foul!” and then mumbling “Fucking idiot” as he sits back down again. At their high school and college graduations, he’ll let his siblings be the loud, whistling, embarrassing people in the crowd as his kid crosses the stage to get their diploma. Five will be standing silently, beaming with pride and trying not to cry (unsuccessfully). 

Sex: Sex after parenthood is different, there’s just no getting around it. In the beginning, you’re both so exhausted that it’s not exactly the hours-long fuck-fests you used to be able to pull off in the past. It’s still good, but it’s straight and to the point so you can get on with your lives or get some much needed sleep. After a while, though, you figure it out again. Five prefers to bang you hard and loudly, but now that’s not an option with little ears in the house. So, he settles on teasing you, instead. “Good girl, staying quiet for me” he’ll whisper with that arrogant smirk while he slams his cock into you with as much force as possible without letting the headboard hit the wall. He’ll get off on the fact that you want to cry out so badly that you’re biting at your lip and digging your nails into his skin. He wants to hear you gasping for air while you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle your moans. Maybe his stamina won’t always be as good as it once was, but that’s usually because he’s frequently getting cock-blocked by his own kid. When he can finally get some, it’s been a while and he’s not exactly performing at the peak of perfection. You better watch out when you have an evening alone, though. Five will happily ship your child off to one of his siblings for the night to get some one-on-one time with you. Now you can be as loud and dirty as you want, and he is going to take full advantage of that. Be prepared to get zero sleep, because Five is going to make up for some lost time. He won’t even wait a full minute after you’re alone before he’s slamming you up against a wall, flattening your body with his and kissing you roughly, or pulling you on top of his lap; his hard-on already straining against his pants while he desperately tries to strip your clothes off. He’s going to fuck you as hard and as long as possible, doing everything he can to make you lose your mind and come all over his cock while moaning his name. Calling him Daddy in the sack might be a little weird at first, but you’ll get past it eventually because he’s never going to get tired of hearing that, and Five is undoubtedly the hottest Daddy in and out of the bedroom. After he’s completely ruined you, he’s going to fuck you softly and sweetly, telling you how much he loves you, because sometimes he misses having you all to himself. Before you fall asleep in his arms, he’ll tell you how happy he is and thank you for making him a father and giving him the life he never dreamed possible  

If you feel like reading more about Five becoming a sexy family man with an eventual wife and son, check out my Halo series on AO3. 🥰

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #31

Belphegor: Snail but with no shell

Beelzebub: Oh those is then uuuuuuuuuuu slurms

Satan: A what

•

Diavolo: Maybe dogs lick us so much because they know there’s bones beneath our skin

Lucifer: This is worst thing you’ve said by far, thanks

•

Beelzebub: Aye can I get Uh���..ingredients on my burger

Satan: Beetroot?

Satan: You want beetroot?

Satan: You want fucking beetroot?

Beelzebub: Ingredience

Mammon: This post feels exactly like a conversation you would witness in a dream and think was completely normal and then wake up and think “what the fuck” for a single millisecond and then immediately forget about completely

•

Diavolo: I’ve lost 20% of my couch

Diavolo: Ouch

Solomon: That’s the funniest couch joke I’ve seen sofa

•

Mammon: *begins breakdancing gently* what’s wrong son?

Asmodeus: What the fuck. What does this even mean. Who thinks of this shit, why is it so funny. I hate this site

•

Mammon: You know what really gets my goat?

Barbatos: El chupacabra

•

Leviathan: The future: holograms can physically touch you and there are 12 cases of homicide committed by Hatsune Miku

Solomon: Just 12?

Diavolo: It’ll be 13 if you don’t stop asking questions

•

Satan: Do you ever get so excited you just want to crush a human skull in your hands

Mephistopheles: You just described breathing

Satan: I am fairly certain I Did Not

•

Mammon: I love it when the city gets rainy at night, and the floor gets all reflective and pretty, and everything becomes more vibrant and gorgeous and you can put any fluid on the ground and people will think it’s water, fools

Lucifer: This post was great until the last part, what are you implying

Mammon: Fool

•

Diavolo: Science puns, go!

Belphegor: You must have a pH of 13 cause you basic as fuck

•

Satan: Shut up @ people who still say “science side of tumblr”

Belphegor: Science side of tumblr why is this man so salty

Solomon: Osmosis

•

Satan: 100 years ago everyone owned a horse and only the rich had cars. Today everyone has cars and only the rich own horses

MC: The stables have turned

Mephistopheles: I laughed too hard at this and I hate you for it

•

Leviathan: Guys, I’m sorry but I think December 31st is going to be my last day on Tumblr for this year

Leviathan: …If one more person asks me why I’m leaving

Diavolo: Kids, this is why school is important

•

Simeon: In primary writing school we had a creative writing assignment where we had to ‘write about a character in a new strange environment’ and I wrote about a squid that was somehow transported from the ocean to the forest floor and slowly choked to death for two pages and I’ll never quite forget the look on my teacher’s face because it turns out she wanted ‘this new school is scary, I hope I make friends’ and not a graphic description of a squid dying

Lucifer: Well that’s just the risk you take if you decide to teach creative writing

•

Raphael: Why do stores always say “gifts for her”??? Who is she? Why are millions of Americans being encouraged to buy gifts for this entity? Someone explain

Mammon: We must appease Her

MC: She is all that keeps the darkness at bay. Without Her the Old Ones will rise again, we must not disappoint Her

Solomon: She is watching. She knows.

Last • Next

[wingedtyger]

How to Buy a Computer for Cheaper

Buy refurbished. And I'm going to show you how, and, in general, how to buy a better computer than you currently have. I'm fairly tech-knowledgeable, but not an expert. But this is how I've bought my last three computers for personal use and business (graphics). I'm writing this for people who barely know computers. If you have a techie friend or family member, having them help can do a lot for the stress of buying a new computer.

There are three numbers you want to know from your current computer: hard drive size, RAM, and processor speed (slightly less important, unless you're doing gaming or 3d rendering or something else like that)

We're going to assume you use Windows, because if you use Apple I can't help, sorry.

First is hard drive. This is how much space you have to put files. This is in bytes. These days all hard drives are in gigabytes or terabytes (1000 gigabytes = 1 terabyte). To get your hard drive size, open Windows Explorer, go to This PC (or My Computer if you have a really old OS).

To get more details, you can right-click on the drive. and open Properties. But now you know your hard drive size, 237 GB in this case. (this is rather small, but that's okay for this laptop). If you're planning on storing a lot of videos, big photos, have a lot of applications, etc, you want MINIMUM 500 GB. You can always have external drives as well.

While you've got this open, right-click on This PC (or My Computer). This'll give you a lot of information that can be useful if you're trying to get tech support.

I've underlined in red the two key things. Processor: it can help to know the whole bit (or at least the Intel i# bit) just so you don't buy one that's a bunch older, but processor models are confusing and beyond me. The absolutely important bit is the speed, in gigahertz (GHz). Bigger is faster. The processor speed is how fast your computer can run. In this case the processor is 2.60 GHz, which is just fine for most things.

The other bit is RAM. This is "random-access memory" aka memory, which is easy to confuse for, like how much space you have. No. RAM is basically how fast your computer can open stuff. This laptop has 16 GB RAM. Make sure you note that this is the RAM, because it and the hard drive use the same units.

If you're mostly writing, use spreadsheets, watching streaming, or doing light graphics work 16 GB is fine. If you have a lot of things open at a time or gaming or doing 3d modeling or digital art, get at least 32 GB or it's gonna lag a lot.

In general, if you find your current laptop slow, you want a new one with more RAM and a processor that's at least slightly faster. If you're getting a new computer to use new software, look at the system requirements and exceed them.

I'll show you an example of that. Let's say I wanted to start doing digital art on this computer, using ClipStudio Paint. Generally the easiest way to find the requirements is to search for 'program name system' in your search engine of choice. You can click around their website if you want, but just searching is a lot faster.

That gives me this page

(Clip Studio does not have very heavy requirements).

Under Computer Specs it tells you the processor types and your RAM requirements. You're basically going to be good for the processor, no matter what. That 2 GB minimum of memory is, again, the RAM.

Storage space is how much space on your hard drive it needs.

Actually for comparison, let's look at the current Photoshop requirements.

Photoshop wants LOTS of speed and space, greedy bastard that it is. (The Graphics card bit is somewhat beyond my expertise, sorry)

But now you have your three numbers: hard drive space, RAM (memory) and processor (CPU). Now we're going to find a computer that's better and cheaper than buying new!

We're going to buy ~refurbished~

A refurbished computer is one that was used and then returned and fixed up to sell again. It may have wear on the keyboard or case, but everything inside (aside from the battery) should be like new. (The battery may hold less charge.) A good dealer will note condition. And refurbished means any flaws in the hardware will be fixed. They have gone through individual quality control that new products don't usually.

I've bought four computers refurbished and only had one dud (Windows kept crashing during set-up). The dud has been returned and we're waiting for the new one.

You can buy refurbished computers from the manufacturers (Lenovo, Dell, Apple, etc) or from online computer stores (Best Buy and my favorite Newegg). You want to buy from a reputable store because they'll have warranties offered and a good return policy.

I'm going to show you how to find a refurbished computer on Newegg.

You're going to go to Newegg.com, you're gonna go to computer systems in their menu, and you're gonna find refurbished

Then, down the side there's a ton of checkboxes where you can select your specifications. If there's a brand you prefer, select that (I like Lenovos A LOT - they last a long time and have very few problems, in my experience. Yes, this is a recommendation).

Put in your memory (RAM), put in your hard drive, put in your CPU speed (processor), and any other preferences like monitor size or which version of Windows you want (I don't want Windows 11 any time soon). I generally just do RAM and hard drive and manually check the CPU, but that's a personal preference. Then hit apply and it'll filter down.

I'm going to say right now, if you are getting a laptop and you can afford to get a SSD, do it. SSD is a solid-state drive, vs a normal hard drive (HDD, hard disk-drive). They're less prone to breaking down and they're faster. But they're also more expensive.

Anyway, we have our filtered list of possible laptops. Now what?

Well, now comes the annoying part. Every model of computer can be different - it can have a better or worse display, it can have a crappy keyboard, or whatever. So you find a computer that looks okay, and you then look for reviews.

Here's our first row of results

Let's take a look at the Lenovo, because I like Lenovos and I loathe Dells (they're... fine...). That Thinkpad T460S is the part to Google (search for 'Lenovo Thinkpad T460s reviews'). Good websites that I trust include PCMag, LaptopMag.com, and Notebookcheck.com (which is VERY techie about displays). But every reviewer will probably be getting one with different specs than the thing you're looking at.

Here are key things that will be the same across all of them: keyboard (is it comfortable, etc), battery life, how good is the trackpad/nub mouse (nub mice are immensely superior to trackpads imho), weight, how many and what kind of ports does it have (for USB, an external monitor, etc). Monitors can vary depending on the specs, so you'll have to compare those. Mostly you're making sure it doesn't completely suck.

Let's go back to Newegg and look at the specs of that Lenovo. Newegg makes it easy, with tabs for whatever the seller wants to say, the specs, reviews, and Q&A (which is usually empty).

This is the start of the specs. This is actually a lesser model than the laptop we were getting the specs for. It's okay. What I don't like is that the seller gives very little other info, for example on condition. Here's a Dell with much better information - condition and warranty info.

One thing you'll want to do on Newegg is check the seller's reviews. Like on eBay or Etsy, you have to use some judgement. If you worry about that, going to the manufacturer's online outlet in a safer bet, but you won't quite get as good of deals. But they're still pretty damn good as this random computer on Lenovo's outlet shows.

Okay, so I think I've covered everything. I do recommend having a techie friend either help or double check things if you're not especially techie. But this can save you hundreds of dollars or allow you to get a better computer than you were thinking.

[dallasgallant]

Time period post: Schools

Honestly surprised I didn’t cover this topic sooner, considering the characters are in high school. I’ll stick mainly to that range but I’ll bring in some broader information just for some additional knowledge. Like all my posts like this please consider this a starting point! If you’re interested look more into it as I can’t cover all of it and I’m trying to go off what’s potentially ‘most relevant’ to people’s fic writing.

Two important bits of context for 1960s schools: Student rights and desegregation.

‘Old school’-

Real quick terminology was a little different to refer to schools like elementary school would sometimes be “primary school” (I know this is still the case in Europe/Canada but large parts of the us no longer say this) or “grammar school” as a sort of preschool- early elementary range.

Junior high was also more common for a middle school but still used today in some parts. The age layout used to be different, sometimes depending on where you were kids from 12-18 would all be in the same huge school.

There were no smart boards or whiteboards. Chalkboards, pull down maps — students turned in everything either in cursive or written on a type writer! (There were entire typing classes for this skill as well. Then again when computers were slowly implemented in the 1980s) there were projectors however — either overhead, slide projector(which goes through a bunch of small photos aka slides) or a movie projector for educational film!

Copies were different too, worksheets would likely be from a Ditto (which had a particular smelling ink students loved).

What students carried-

No backpacks! It’s not until the mid 80s this really becomes a thing for schools. Lockers were used and you’d just carry home what books or materials needed, sometimes there were books traps which were mainly used by younger students (it’s a belt that goes around your books basically) girls would sometimes bring larger purses so they’d be able to carry the books too.

This is why there’s the trope of “oh Billy carry my books for me?💕” or students walking home with everything in their arms like in Halloween (1978)

Textbooks were pricey and the students responsibility so there’d be textbook covers! Sometimes nice ones were made when there’s something you like on it but if you’re poor or want your own custom ability you’d use a paper grocery bag.

There are those who buy lunch but if you bring it you either have a tin lunchbox or a brown paper bag (sack lunch) no cloth ones.

As mentioned above there was a lot more “life skills” based classes than there are today, some may exist in more rural communities but a lot of these got cut. Typing classes, drivers ed (in school!!), shop (Auto, wood and Metal), home economics -> from cooking, laundry, balancing checkbook etc.

Being called on/corrected-

Students weren’t people until the late 60s. I’m not kidding there were Supreme Court cases as there was a tendency of treatment and rights being actually acquainted to prisoners.

Dress codes weren’t as strict as the 40s and 50s but you’re still not wearing a tube top and daisy dukes to school. However the 60s are the age of teen rebellion…

Corporal punishment! You were allowed to be hit by a teacher if deemed necessary. Sending to the office/punishment in general was also more common : detention, suspension, expulsion etc (I mean this as actual and not just irrational as lately there’s been almost too lax)

Truancy officers! Making sure kids are in school, not skipping, missing etc.

There also seems to be more academic demand and rigor on the outside looking in on the time period, however I’ll say it with a grain of salt as some of it may be a ‘back in my day’ style…

Locality-

In a small or rural town school events would mean far more, especially back then. Clubs, fundraisers, carnivals and sports all were a huge part of students and the communities social life! Going to watch the football game was a big thing. Same goes for school dances like prom and homecoming.

This also makes things like superlatives, awards, sports wins etc more impactful.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Concept Cards??? + Vignette Ideas

We really need twst hobby cards to come out eventually (Read As: I want a card where Cater gets to skateboard lmao) But like...

Riddle - Tending the Garden: His vignette is about trying out new hobbies, but needing to start slow, so rather than just pruning the rosebushes he tries to grow his own plants for tea because it seems manageable/maybe growing an herb garden on his windowsill bc he again, needs to start small and manageable so his schedule isn't thrown off and he doesn't feel like he's sacrificing academics for leisure

Trey - Old Habits: His vignette is basically him and Deuce talking until Deuce brings up he has a toothache. We basically get to see Trey take a deep dive into dentistry and the extent of his knowledge because he manages to identify the issue and solve it, and it's revealed that when he's bored of doing school work and too tired to bake he just loves to study dentistry best he can without schooling on the matter.

Cater - ???: His vignette is him leaving a clone at Heartslaybul so he can escape for a bit and clear his mind while on his skateboard because things were getting too tense for him and he's got nobody he trusts to confide in. We get to see him relax and cheer up while he's out. Alternatively, his vignette could be more about running out of paint because he's trying to customize his skateboard.

Deuce - They're Called What?: In which Deuce's friends find out about gremlin bells and gift them to him. (Gremlin bells are something motorcyclists use IRL, the legend is that someone used bells to scare away malicious spirits on the road, so when someone buys them bells they but them on the motorcycle as basically a reminder to be safe, but obviously in this case it would be for his blastcycle)

Ace - Just a Little Glitter: Ace gets a kick out of pulling pranks on people anonymously around the dorm because his brother told him about a prank he pulled in his time there and sent him a few small vials of glitter to help spice it up. Ace ends up mixing glitter in with someone's conditioner, or puts some between couch cushions so when someone sits down it makes the glitter fly up. There is a possibility for Riddle clocking him as the person who's done it, (likely with evidence from Cater), and instead of getting him in outright trouble, he tells him that the couch needs to be cleaned by hand, each piece of glitter meticulously picked up to get thrown out.

Leona - Once The Greatest: His vignette is about how he used to spar and train with his older brother and the general of the royal army, and how at one point he was able to disarm anyone in less than a minute, despite having been so young and not using magic to help him. Once he fell into depression he never really got back into it. (Maybe he sees Silver and Sebek sparring and calls out an error they've made?? IDK) Alternatively Prince's Gambit: totally not homoerotic at all ongoing chess game he has with Malleus slkdfhlksdjhflkjsdf

Ruggie - Only if You Get Caught: In which Lilia catches Ruggie stealing snacks from the teacher's lounge. We find out that he's managed to win over the paintings in the hall to not snitch him out to the teachers in exchange for him coming to read to them every once in a while because they are. Incredibly bored, and it lowkey reminds him of reading to his siblings at home. Lilia points out that he hasn't bought his silence yet and Ruggie reluctantly hands over a snack tax.

Jack - I Can't Let it Go: Jack gets devastated when his cactus starts showing signs of dying because he's done everything he can think of to take care of it. He takes it to Jade reluctantly because he knows Jade is botanically inclined and is horrified when Jade cuts it. Jade was actually propagating it, but keeps that to himself. He then explains to Jack that the reason it's rotting is because it's getting too much water and it's in too small of a pot. He gives him instructions on how to fix it and keeps the baby propagated cactus for himself lmao

Azul - GET OUT OF MY CLOSET: In which Floyd finds out Azul enjoys wearing dresses and owns plenty of high quality ones and never wears them in public. It's not until the eel is out of the room that Azul starts fussing over the state his dresses are in and goes to the vanity to start applying make up. He wants to do drag but doesn't have the confidence to do it in public yet.

Alternatively, same title but it's cosplays he and Idia have made but he's too shy to put on.

Jade - You Can't Hide: We Jade goes about collecting the first years information for Azul, we know that he collects info on: Home countries, Hobbies, Tastes, Least favourite foods, Worst Subjects and a catalogue of the students' Magicam accounts, including private or secret accounts. This vignette would be about a random first year who appears to have no Magicam account and is generally difficult to read. I feel like we would get to the point where Jade goes to the nurses office just to look through files for information he can relay to Azul. (I may be thinking about one of my OCs lmaooo)

Floyd - You Can't Run: We learn more about Floyd's shoe collection and the story behind a certain pair. We find out that at walking boot camp some shithead made fun of Jade. Since they were so confident in their ability to walk, Floyd took their shoes and essentially kidnapped them to leave them on a bed of pine needles so they would have to walk back to camp barefoot, letting them know they got off easy for coming after his brother.

Kalim - My Mom Taught Me!: Kalim invites the prefect to his dorm so he can give them henna on their hands, after having dealt with Jamil's OB. He gets to talk about how it was one of the things he remembers from early on in his life, and it was relatively easy to do. He does his siblings henna too. He ends up explaining how henna on the hands is meant to bring the prefect good luck and keep them safe. We find out after that everyone in his dorm got henna as well because he can't cast protective magic for that many people, so he can at least try with symbolism

Jamil - No Guarantees: Floyd approaches Jamil to ask him if he can teach him to dance a genre Jamil has NO experience with, but his insistence and Jamil's own interest get the best of him and he promises he'll try to find a way to learn it so he can teach Floyd. He ends up learning the basics + a little more essentially overnight and has a loose idea of how to teach Floyd, only for Floyd to tell him he doesn't want to learn anymore.

Vil - Wrong Notebook: Vil doesn't realize until he's gotten to class that he grabbed the wrong notebook off his desk before he left that morning. Rook inquires if he grabbed his design sketchbook instead, knowing full well he did, but just wants a chance to look at the most recent designs. Vil doesn't really care, he's mostly mad at himself for grabbing that instead of history notebook. Rook ends up sliding Vil the notebook he was missing, saying that he noticed that Vil's bag looked a few grams off weight or some shit and he went back to grab it.

Rook - It's Nothing Sinister: A two for one, Malleus can feel someone watching him from far away, and ends up confronting Rook. Rook explains while he does have a tendency to watch those he finds beautiful, this is different; he needed to keep looking at Malleus in order to accurately describe his beauty in the form of poetry. It's only at that point that Malleus sees the simple notebook Rook has, and asks to see it. Rook hands it over proudly, and Malleus can see that there are actually...multiple poems about him, about Leona, about the Leech twins, etc. etc. and finds it entertaining, asking Rook if he may make a duplicate so he can show Lilia.

Epel - Harder Than It Looks: We get to see Epel apple carving again. Ruggie and Jack approach him, and Ruggie asks him if he actually manages to turn a profit on it. Epel explains that back home, basic preservation magic is used, so tourists tend to find them cool and they can charge more for it. Ruggie asks if he can teach him, and Epel warns him that it's harder than it looks, handing him an apple. Ruggie just thanks him and says something's come up, pretending to look at his phone and walks away with a free apple, (Epel confused bc Ruggie could have just Asked for a snack), but Jack expresses interest as well. Jack tries to do it, (partially because he feels bad Ruggie just walked away), but trying to hold the apple securely enough to cut into it without the knife slipping makes him squish the apple too much, the sides kinda mushy and bruised. He and Jack get to have a laugh about it.

Idia - DON'T COME IN: In which Ortho knocks at the door and Idia panics because he is 110% in magic girl cosplay lmao Ortho ends up coming in and gets a giggle out of it because Idia is basically cosplaying young Epel's meemaw (and they both know he is). The worst part is the fact Muscle Red ends up hearing about it over the mic.

Ortho - I Don't Really Know...: Ortho realizes that he doesn't really have any of his own hobbies, all of them have been influenced by Idia, and film club is fun, but it's not a hobby. The first years each present him with different ideas for a hobby he can pick up. He has a blast, but ultimately still feels conflicted about enjoying a hobby his brother won't partake in. The first years start to argue over which hobby Ortho should join them in when Ortho notices Trey through the Heartslaybul windows, (the first years are outside), and the first years end up seeing him enjoying himself with Trey, who not only mitigated Ortho's worries but managed to take on a Different 'big brother' role. Also baking is all ratios and proportions and chemistry, and Ortho finds those fun and easy, and gets invested quickly.

Malleus - I've Run Out Of Ink: Malleus does calligraphy when he's journaling and you cannot change my mind on either of those fronts. The vignette is him just going to Sam's shop, and someone ends up snapping a photo of him at the counter, finding it funny that The Malleus Draconia looks like he's going grocery shopping. Lilia ends up seeing the post and asking Malleus why he didn't just ask him for more ink, and Malleus admits he wanted to potentially run into the Child of Man just so he could pay for their groceries because of a modern romance story he read recently.

Lilia - It's Called Power Clashing: Vil finds Lilia's alternate Magicam and sees that grandpa is actually doing pretty well as a fashion influencer, with power clashing as his signature style. (AKA wearing patterns on patterns that are unconventional). Vil has Mixed Feelings on the style, but with another photoshoot coming up where he knows Neige will be his rival, he needs something to really set him apart and reluctantly asks Lilia if he would be willing to help him design a power clash outfit. And it's Vil so of course he kills it in the outfit Lilia suggests.

Silver - One Day They'll Work: Cater sees Silver at Sam's shop - Silver's buying energy drinks and Cater is getting cold brew kdfjhlskdjfhkljsdf but once they get to the counter, Silver asks Sam if he can have a box from behind him. Cater finds out that Silver collects prisms. He collects them so in the rare event there's sun in Diasomnia, his room is covered in rainbows and he gets to wake up in it, making him happy. Cater asks if it's ever been sunny in Diasomnia, and Silver admits it hasn't since he's been there, but he has faith that there will be sun there one day because he dreamt about it.

Sebek - IT'S NOT CHILDISH: Silver stops by Sebek's room before bed at some point, only to find him putting Malleus stickers into a notebook. Before he can even say anything, Sebek is defending himself, flustered and upset because he didn't say Silver could come in, (Silver is used to doing the courtesy knock and then walking in, especially because Sebek tends to just Bust into Silver's room), and goes off on saying that any media with Malleus cannot be considered childish, even if that media happens to be stickers. Silver swears not to tell anyone, but still finds Sebek's defensiveness amusing

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT POST (like less than 100 words) SLDKJFHLSJDFHLKSDJF love y'all slkfhldsjhflkjsdf

[81buttons]

Hii ^^ I love your account it's really the fandoms I love and I wanted to ask you if you could write a story about james wilson where he and the reader end up on a date at the monster truck (a bit like the episode with Cameron and House) or maybe House is there too, I just want a story a bit in the same style as the episode ‘cause I love that moment but with wilson. Thanks again keep writing I can't wait to read all your stories ❤️😊

hello so you should know that I am currently in my Wilson era so I loved writing this story, I took your basic idea and modified certain things I hope you like it...

´Like a date ?’ Part 1

Part 1 (this one), Part 2 , Part 3

House md!James Wilson x reader 

summary: when House invites Wilson's crush on a date for revenge or when Wilson falls madly in love with a member of House's team

TW: House being house, mention of failed marriages and divorce, some house’s jokes and for this story I don’t mention the presence of Cameron, the reader being the main female character in the House team

sorry for the grammar mistakes

——————————————————————————————————

"I am the best"

Wilson raised his eyes from his lunch, House stood in front of him with his eyes sparkling with joy? Or pride may be in any case it was not a good sign.

"And you want me to tell you that..." James replied not sure where his friend was going.

"I want you to tell me that yes I am the best being on this planet that is called Earth, that you will create me a congregation dedicated to the god House so that I have thousands of supporters and faithful, and finally that you tell me that I am the best thing that has happened to you even better than your 3 marriages. ”

James looked at him perplexed unable to know what he was going to announce, knowing his friend it could go from a simple action like buying him a can of coke or offering him a 2-year trip to the Pacific islands, or killing someone, the variables were endless.

"My friend, what are you doing on Friday night, no, it's not even a question in fact, I'm announcing that Friday night we're going to see you and me the Monster Trucks"

Wilson was shocked, a surprise a real good surprise from his friend, who did not ask him to commit any violation of the law. But suddenly his face darkened.

"Wait, you said this Friday night"

"Yes, Friday, you and I are as free as the air in the fabulous world of car destruction"

Wilson was embarrassed

"House, I can't I'm really sorry"

"I think you didn't hear, it's probably because of your old age but it's okay I'll repeat it to you, I said Monster Truck and you have no choice"

"I know I know but I had already planned something that evening"

" What can be better than that? Your wife? Your ex-wife? Your ex-ex-wife? Believe me, none is worth it"

Wilson sight, of course when House was offended he became bitter.

"It's been a month since I promised a friend to see him tonight, it's been almost 7 years since we saw each other, and I told him that we would see each other in town and that I will organise everything"

House stared at him for a second and then took a breath, he didn't believe what he was going to say.

"Your friend there... uh"

"Ben"

"Yes, Ben, does he like Monster Trucks ? ”

——————————————————————

House had managed to get two more tickets for tonight, yes two tickets because after he offered to invite his friend Fred to his Monster Truck party, Wilson had told him that he didn't need to do this for him and that he didn't want to force House to spend the evening with another person just so he could go see the Monster Trucks. 

For House yes, seeing the Monster Trucks without Wilson wasn’t possible, it's like eating bread without butter, watching a movie without popcorn, going to Vegas without playing, seeing Cuddy with a low-cut without saying anything ... in short impossible for him. 

But Wilson had insisted, because of his damned conscience he could not accept this ticket without feeling bad about his friend. So House offered him to also bring a friend like that he would not be completely alone during the evening.

"A friend? ”

"Yes, a friend, what do you think I have no other friends than you? ”

"No, no, it's just that I haven't met them before"

"Well, you'll see them on Friday night" and he left his office

"House if you bring back a ho-"

And now he found himself with less than 24 hours to find a "friend" for tonight, so that he would not be alone in front of the duo Wilson / Derek.

He thought about it very seriously, he had to be a person who he is sure is not a plan for tonight. Either a person from the hospital, it is well known that doctors have no life apart from their work. 

Cuddy? No, he needed someone who was afraid of him.

Foreman? No, he would surely say no and the company would be rather unpleasant

Chase? Maybe even if the Australian has surely never heard of the Monster Trucks on his island.

Finally he had an illumination, of course it was the ideal plan, he had to invite Y/N.

Since his arrival as a member of his team, House has noticed his friend's obvious link with the young doctor. After all, the woman was beautiful and young, one of the reasons why House hired her in the first place, but in addition ‘miss perfection’ also claimed to be a good doctor, from time to time according to him but enough to be useful to the team. 

Wilson always had the unfortunate habit of flirting with all the beautiful women he met and they fell into his ´nice boy' trap so easily that it had lead to 3 spoiled marriage. But with doctor y/n it was different, after carefully observing them several times, House had seen that the young woman was making her friend nervous, for one of the first times it was he who was in a lower position.

It was very satisfying to see how he managed to forget everything when he saw her, to the point of sometimes stammering slightly, if he pretended to listen to her we could see that he was completely lost in front of the young woman. In short, he was a mess in front of her.

This was a enough for House to invite her, okay she was not necessarily the perfect candidate, he should surely have to explain the rules to her for hours and she would surely be suspicious in the first place. But House saw this as a "revenge" on Wilson, he already imagined his friend's face; or even George's, when he was going to arrive at the woman's arm who drives him crazy. 

House knew he was pinching for her, they had talked about it but Wilson didn't want to do anything at the moment. So House had to force things a little, and after all y/n was one of the few people apart from Wilson to support House and accept his humour, and he also appreciated it especially when she shuts down Foreman or Chase, she was smart and clever.

Upon entering his office, he saw her studying a file on the table in the next room.

"Hum" he coughed so that the young woman noticed his presence.

She gently raised her eyes to look at him. "Everything all right? ”

"What are you doing tonight? ”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2

[sweetcheeksschemmenti]

Beyond The Classroom

Pt. 1

I don’t expect this one to be very popular, this is a self indulgent piece 🫡

Summary: Once a Little Eagle, always a Little Eagle. Melissa keeps that promise to you year after year as she shows up for you in every possible way.

Warnings: Child abuse, neglect, abandonment, over all sad stuff (Mel makes it better!)

WC: 3.9k

Notes: Wrote this because it’s the week before Mother’s Day and I just want my mama (she’s an awful human being and will never be a part of my life again, 6 years no contact). Melissa is a comfort character for me, so I’m using this as a hug from her. I know there are plenty of other people with bad relationships with their moms (gotta love mommy issues), so I thought I’d share in case someone else would also like this hug.

I see you, I love you.

P.s. This story is about 85% based on events I experienced as a child/young adult. I’m thankful every day for the teachers who stepped in to be the parents I didn’t have.

You grew up in a not-so-wonderful household with abusive parents and older siblings who wouldn’t have noticed if you had decided to run away one day. Melissa Schemmenti knew. She was the one person you felt you could confide in as a child. She called CPS on your parents a handful of times during the year she taught you, in hopes of keeping you safe. Unfortunately, with a broken system and a mother who could sweet talk The Devil himself, your parents got off scot-free, leaving you to deal with the aftermath each time.

You would go into school the next day with a new bruise and tears in your eyes. Melissa would hold you close and let you cry all you could before pulling a chair up next to her own so you could be near your safe person all day. When it came time for dismissal, she would hug you extra tight and send a silent prayer to God that you’d walk through the doors again in the morning. On Fridays, she would sneak a Tupperware container of homemade food and a handful of snacks into your bag with a note that said ‘love you, kid’, knowing that your parents restricted your access to food and that she was probably the only person you heard those words from most days. The world sat heavy on your second grader shoulders and Melissa did everything she knew how to make it a little lighter.

Even as you moved on past second grade, Ms. Schemmenti was there. She would check in with each of your teachers at the beginning on the school year and pop in to say hello at lunch from time to time. If you had a particularly rough night at home you would stop by her room and ask her to hold you for a minute before other students arrived. She always obliged.

The day you moved on to middle school, Melissa cried right along with you. Both of you knew she wouldn’t be able to hug the hurt away or keep tabs on you as often. Of course, she made sure you knew how much she loved you, she gave you her personal phone number and said, “No matter how old you get or how far you go, you’ll always be my favorite little eagle. I’ll always be here for you if you need me and I mean it. If things go south at home, you call me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’re gonna be okay.”

As the years passed, Melissa made sure she remained a constant- the only constant, really- in your life. Through your middle school years she became your tutor, meeting you at your school’s library every Thursday after dismissal to help you with your homework. Of course, those sessions were always a little more than just help with homework; she would bring you food and make sure you had clean clothes and basic necessities. One time you let it slip that your mother had ‘forgotten’ to buy you toothpaste and she dropped off a small bag of Colgate tubes on your front porch that night.

When you entered high school, Melissa made an effort to show up for every one of your art shows and track meets. Your parents never even made it to one, but Schemmenti was there. She always was. Your high school teachers even began to think Melissa was your mother; you never corrected them. And when you started working at the hoagie stand your sophomore year, Ms. Schemmenti would stop by once a week to have dinner with you.

The physical abuse dwindled a little as you got older and were able to fight back, but the verbal abuse got worse as a result. At one point during you senior year, your mother kicked you out after throwing a fit about you not inviting her to see you try on prom dresses. You called Melissa and she drove forty-five minutes at three in the morning to get you. Your mother knocked you to the ground and pulled fistfuls of hair, creating a tangled mess. When you were finally able to get her off of you, she screamed at you the entire time you packed your bag.

“FUCK YOU Y/N, YOU SELFISH BITCH! Couldn’t even include YOUR OWN MOTHER! It hurts, it’s almost like not getting invited to your WEDDING!” You dodged books and trinkets she threw at you as you tossed whatever sentimental things you could think of into trash bags to take with you. Photos of your grandparents, your favorite stuffed animal, and some of your artworks made it in before you heard Melissa honking in the driveway.

“You’ve never been my mom,” you seethed with tears streaming down your face as you dragged your bags down the stairs.

She blocked you from leaving at the bottom of the stairs and backhanded you, her ring catching the tender skin beneath your eye. You yelped in pain and stumbled forward, she grabbed you by the throat and squeezed. “You walk out that door and NEVER come back, you hear me? You are worthless, a waste of space and air.” She dug her nails into your skin before she released you and practically pushed you through the front door.

“You’ll never have to deal with me again. You want me out? I’m out.”

Your father followed behind with his fists balled up, “If you ever come back, it’ll be the last time you see daylight!”

Melissa waited for you by the car with her baseball bat, ready to swing if need be. Once your bags were in the backseat, Melissa tossed her baseball bat into the trunk and drove off. Your mother chased the car all the way down the driveway calling you every derogatory thing she could come up with.

The drive to Melissa’s house was silent save for the occasional quiet aob from both parties. Once you arrived, Melissa took your bags inside and walked you up the stairs to her bathroom to nurse your wounds. You winced as she swabbed your cheek with isopropyl alcohol and she frowned. “I’m so sorry, hon. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner to stop her.”

“Don’t be, you still showed up when I needed you. It coulda been a lot worse. Thank you,” you cried as you leaned your head against her stomach just like when you were a second grader.

She held you until your tears dried then left the room to grab a change of clothes for you. Moments later, she handed you a pair of her sweatpants and an oversized Eagles t-shirt. “You can take the bed tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch. My spare room doesn’t have a bed right now, but we can fix that tomorrow after I call out of work. You need anything before I head down, kid?”

You looked at the ground, embarrassed to even ask, “Would you maybe… would it be okay if…. never mind, it’s stupid.” You shook your head and climbed under the comforter, it smelled like Melissa.

She somehow knew exactly what you were asking without hearing the words. She climbed into the bed and lifted an arm for you to scoot in. “Of course, sweet girl, it’s not stupid at all. I’ll keep you safe, promise. Try to get some sleep, I’ll be right here.” You settled into her embrace and took a deep breath.

You whispered, “I love you, thank you.”

“I love you too, baby girl. Sleep tight,” she whispered back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she held you, watching as the rise of your chest slowed. She stayed awake the whole night, guarding your peace.

Late the following morning, you woke up to an empty bed and the sound of people in the house. You popped your head out into the hallway to see Melissa directing three men where to go with the new bed set. She heard the door creak and looked over at you with an apologetic smile, “Hey, hon, sorry to wake you! They’ll be outta here shortly. I called your school and work to let them know you wouldn’t be in for a few days so you don’t have to worry about it. I washed the clothes that were in your backpack, they’re sitting by my bathroom. There’s also a clean towel for you and a new toothbrush on the counter. You’re welcome to use my hairbrush and whatever else you need.” You smiled back at her and closed the door.

You picked an outfit from the pile of folded clothes and shut the bathroom door to shower. Your body was sore from the adrenaline and you groaned in pain as you shed your pajamas. Standing naked in the mirror, you looked over the marks your mother left on you. The nail marks on your neck were already scabbed over, but the gash under your eye was bruised and definitely going to leave a scar. You traced your fingers along each mark, tears forming in your eyes. The shower was hot enough to leave your skin red, you wanted to burn away any remnants of what happened to you. You sobbed loudly as you tried to detangle the mess of hair your mother created, it hurt and you were so worried that you’s just have to cut it all off.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Ya decent?” You opened the door for her and she gently took the brush from your hands. She directed you to sit backwards on the toilet while she worked at the knots on your head. You nearly fell asleep sitting there as she hummed and massaged conditioner into your hair, working diligently to make sure you kept your beautiful hair.

“You sleep okay,” She asked as she rinsed your hair in the sink.

“That was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I haven’t slept in a bed in months, it was so soft.” You said it like it was nothing.

She paused. “Whatduya mean you haven’t slept in a bed in months?”

You sighed deeply. “They took my bed away because they said I was a whore and didn’t deserve one. I told them that I’m a virgin and they took the door off of my room, callin’ me a liar.” You hadn’t told her that detail when you saw her at one of your track meets a few months before. You figured you’d shared enough heartbreaking details with the woman, she didn’t need to be even more worried about you.

Hot tears silently flowed down her cheeks. She was angry. Not at you for not telling her, but at the low-lifes you called parents. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” she spat. She was ready to call in one of her favors from The Tire Iron. “Well I’ll tell ya one thing, kiddo, you ain’t goin’ back there ever again. You’ll never be without ‘long as I’m around, ya got it? And you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want, no strings attached.”

You choked back your own tears. “Thanks, Ms. Schemmenti. I truly appreciate you.” She wrapped your hair in a towel and you turned to hug her. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve, apparently,” she teased when your stomach growled loudly. She grabbed your chin to look at you, “And no more ‘Ms. Schemmenti’. You can call me Melissa, Mel, Aunt Mel, whatever you want, just not that. You’re family, kid. Now c’mon, I’ll make you something to eat before we head out for a shopping trip.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her brow furrowed, “You tryin’ to make me feel old? None of that ma’am stuff either.” You giggled and followed her down to the kitchen.

She made French toast and sausage and you devoured the meal in just a few bites. Satisfied with you having eaten, she grabbed her purse, dragged you to the car and pulled out of the driveway. Along the way, she asked you to make a list of anything you might need or want. You took your phone out and looked at it for the first time that day. The screen was full of awful messages from both of your parents and extended family members. You chose to clear the screen and turn off notifications without reading them all and opened your notes app to jot down a few things you knew you missed when packing bags.

Melissa pulled into the mall parking lot and looked over at you, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what happened?”

You rubbed your eyes and tried to fake a smile, “Nothin’, I’m just tired.” She knew you well enough to know when you were lying, but she wasn’t going to push you on the subject.

“Mkay, kid. If you decide you wanna talk about it, you know I’ll always listen. And you know I’d kill for ya.” She gently nudged you with her elbow and the two of you made your way into the mall. You showed her your list and she took charge, guiding you around to every clearance rack and bargain bin in the vicinity. You paid for the majority of your new finds, but she insisted on helping with funds here and there. Many stores later Melissa stopped for a bathroom break and you found yourself in front of Auntie Anne’s. Remembering how much she loved soft pretzels- she’d get one every field trip- you decided to buy two, one for each of you. It was a very small token of gratitude, but you knew she’d be excited.

When she exited the bathroom, she scanned the food court for you and found you sitting at a table with all the bags. She sat down across from you and you pushed the soft pretzel her way with a little cup of honey mustard, “Thank you for today. Normally I hate shopping, but you made it fun.”

She gave you an upside down smile and took a bite. “I’m glad I could be a good distraction for ya, hon. And thank you for this!” She clinked her pretzel with yours to ‘cheers’ the day. As you finished your pretzels in silence while people watching, a dress shop on the upper level caught your eye. Despite trying on prom dresses, you never actually bought one.

Melissa‘s eyes followed your gaze and when she spotted the shop she knew what she was going to do. “Hey, I know you said you normally hate shopping, but since we’ve been having so much fun today… why don’t we keep the fun going and go pick out your prom dress? It’s what, two weeks out?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I can’t afford it now that I’ve spent half my savings on shit I needed today. Besides, I got to do prom last year, I’m alright missing out on this one.” You played with the straw in your drink absentmindedly and took the last bite of your pretzel.

Melissa thought back to the conversations she had with you about how excited you were for your senior prom. You buzzed about it every time the two of you spoke for months, it broke her heart to see you resign to not going. “My treat, hon. And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, I know how bad you wanna go. C’mon,” she said as she prodded you up and dragged you to the dress shop.

You spent about an hour browsing and trying on different dresses, even somehow convinced Melissa to try one on with you for shits and giggles. You pretended not to see her sneak a picture in the mirror of the two of you in the matching dresses, a sweet moment she wanted to remember forever. Finally, you found the right one. The a-line strapless dress stopped mid calf, it was wine red and fit like a dream. When you emerged from the dressing room to show her, she gasped.

“Oh, beautiful girl! My favorite little eagle isn’t so little anymore.” She stuck her bottom lip out in an upside down smile as she reached to tuck your hair away from your eyes. She took a small step back and asked you to spin so she could see it all. The smile on your face told her you made your choice. With misty eyes she pulled you into a tight hug, limiting your ability to breathe.

“I can’t… breathe… help,” you choked out. The redhead lessened her squeeze and apologized but didn’t let go, she needed that moment to collect herself. You stood there embracing each other for a couple of minutes before Melissa finally released you. Once you changed back into your clothes, she took the dress to the register and paid.

You walked out together and stuffed all the bags in the trunk, laying the dress flat in the backseat. “Thank you. For everything, Aunt Mel. For a few hours, it didn’t feel like my world was crashing down around me. I’m lucky to have you.”

She kissed her fingers and then pressed them to your cheek before she started driving. “I’m pretty lucky to have you too, kid. And I’ll always be here to pick up the pieces when you need me.”

The drive back to Melissa’s house was quiet, aside from the classic rock station playing the weekly hits countdown. You checked your silenced notifications to see even more messages and missed calls from your family, Melissa glanced over and saw them too. “If you want, we can change your number this week, that way they can’t bother you anymore,” Melissa offered.

“They still pay for my phone, I can’t. They’d cancel my service the moment they found out.” You shoved your phone back into your pocket.

“Then I’ll just move you over to my cell plan. They don’t deserve the power they have over you, hon.” You opened your mouth to protest but stopped when she pointed at you. “Let me help, please. Because I can and I want to.”

“Thanks, Aunt Mel.”

A few minutes later you arrived back at the townhouse and dragged all of your new belongings up to your new room, hanging up the dress immediately. Melissa said she’d help you make the bed and get settled once she got dinner in the oven. While she was working in the kitchen, you curled up on the couch and flipped the TV on, settling on ‘Rick Steves’ Europe’ reruns. Rick’s comforting voice began to lull you to sleeping and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.

Melissa walked in to tell you she was ready and found you fast asleep. Her heart melted at the sight. She draped the couch blanket over you and lightly tucked it in so as to not disturb your slumber. ‘How could anyone hurt something so precious,’ she thought to herself. After she tucked you in, she made her way upstairs to gather your new sheets and comforter to wash them before starting on the rest of the room.

She grabbed the basket of your clothes from her own room and began to hang them up in your closet. Once she finished the task, she cleaned out the dresser and filled it with your socks, pants, and undergarments. One by one, she removed her family photos from the walls and replaced them with the handful of framed photos you brought with you. She recognized your grandparents’ photo from the one time she had met them at the beginning of your second grade year, right before they passed. They were your best friends, you were safe when they were around. Melissa decided to place the picture on your nightstand so that they’d be watching over you every night. Lastly, she organized your toiletries in the guest bathroom and set out a fresh set of towels and one of her robes.

Satisfied with her progress, she took a short break to check on you, change over the laundry, and take out the lasagna. You were still asleep and she didn’t want to disturb you so she ate alone in the dining room and texted her mother.

Mel: Hey, Ma. You mind setting an extra place at the table for family dinner on Sunday?

-Ma: Hot date?

-Mel: Nah. You remember me telling you about Y/N?

-Ma: You’ve talked about her for the last ten years, yeah I remember. Is the poor kid okay? Her parents treating her like shit again?

-Mel: They kicked her to the curb, said she wasn’t welcome back. She’s staying with me for as long as she needs to.

-Ma: Of course I’ll set an extra place for her, Amore. She need anything? You need anything?

-Mel: She needs all the love she can get, just make her feel like family. I’ve got everything else handled. Thanks, Ma.

-Ma: We can do that. Talk soon.

She finished her meal and gathered the clean bedding from the laundry room, making her way back upstairs to make your bed. Once the sheets were on, she fluffed the comforter and pillows before opening your backpack to retrieve your favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Bunz. Even at eighteen, you slept with him tucked in your arms every night. She hugged the well-loved bunny to her heart and thought back to the day she gave him to you. Right before holiday break your third grade year, she pulled you aside at dismissal and tucked him into your backpack. She told you to give him a hug whenever you needed to feel loved and she wasn’t around to give you a hug herself. Little did she know, that was the only gift you received that year.

Melissa placed him in the middle of the pillows, like the cherry on top, and went back downstairs to wake you for dinner. She sat on the arm of the couch and gently began to run her fingers through your hair. “You need to eat somethin’, sweetheart,” she whispered as your eyes fluttered open. You stretched and sat up, leaning your head against her leg.

“What time is it?”

“About 7:30. You’ve been through a lot the last 24 hours, figured you could use the rest. I got your room all set up for ya. I’ll heat up your plate and we can watch a movie before bed. How’s that sound?”

You rolled off the couch and rubbed your eyes. “Sounds good,” you yawned. You followed the redhead into the kitchen and sat at the counter. She warmed your plate in the microwave and placed it in front of you with a glass of water. You demolished your meal like you hadn’t eaten in days, complimenting her cooking after every other bite. You washed your dishes and then made your way back to the living room, joined by Melissa. She turned on one of your favorite comedy movies and watched the light return to your eyes a little more with each scene.

Sitting there, laughing at the stupid jokes on the screen with the closest thing you’ve ever had to a real mom, with a full stomach and a warm bed waiting for you upstairs, you realized something.

For the first time in your eighteen years of life, you were finally home.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Just figured out you are taking requests for my sweetie L lawliet, so could you do L lawliet with a little sister (reader) probably a 8-10 year age gap between them, she's shy, introverted, quiet, and is always avoiding anyone other than L. She's sneaky and noisy. Her and L has that same crouching position while sitting, you'll never catch her eating anything unless she's eating with L. She's always around L and is with him while sleeping or basically while L speaks on the computer about cases she'll be there sleeping quietly in his lap She's a mini version of him and if she speaks to someone she either responds very mean and blunt with a monotone voice like she doesn't care or will just respond with one word or just a nod. Just recently thought of this sooo yeah🤯!! Anyways have a good day💕

Hmmm! So we’re basically just L again! Well… I suppose I can try already but thank you anyway, I’ll do my best!

Lawliet L- Kindred Shackle

A second L you say? The Taskforce will blow up in flames when they meet you, stood alongside your biological older brother, L. Not in a bad way but in a; “God, there’s two of them” way. One L is bad enough, two Ls is almost like hell

You and L match so much, you might as well wear matching clothes or be the same age since you two mirror each other to a extreme. You’re just as introverted and quiet as L, you’re just as devoted and stubborn, and most importantly, you’re as attached to L as attached he is to you

No joke. You will not eat nor sleep without L present and he knows that as much. So he has you hooked to his hip 24/7 and he never lets you out of his sight. All to make sure you’re healthy and okay

L views you as a cute little lady and he does get a bit scolding when you speak all monotone and blunt to people. Cmon, be nicer! He always tries to encourage you to be a kind, sweet young lady since he wants you to have friends. You should have everything he can’t have

L doesn’t really mind having a littlest sister as clingy and puppy-like as you. You’re a very helpful source, both in work and in his person as he can rely on you in all fields, rather you be MUCH younger than him. He’s 24 and you’re 15!

L believes he works better with you around. Either sleeping on his back or baking with Watari only a couple feet by him, he is fully convinced you provide him with the energy and motivation to work harder on cases, especially the Kira case

L prefers you not adapt to his habits in the slightest. His insomniac sleep patterns, his sugary diet. He is a awful role model and he knows that so he openly tells you to never follow in his footsteps and be like him; it may be intriguing but to him, your health is so much more important than a title

L is a very loving older brother. He may not seem like it but he is, he’ll comb fingers through your hair to help you fall asleep faster, he’ll buy you all kinds of cute accessories and clothes, he is practically your caretaker as the only family you have left. It explains the equal attachment you both have for one another;

L carefully shuffled against the plush couch cushions in order to get more comfortable whilst you were cuddled up in his lap and arms, he had you caged to his scrawny chest with the way his arms stretch out to type on his laptop, the jingle of metallic chains echoing through the spacious room with each wrist movement. You had always been next to L, ever since he willingly took on this horribly deadly murder case and you were willingly to die for your older brother

He is the only thing you have. And you are the only thing he has, L remembers how he carried the only few months year old newborn you through the orphanage when Watari was introducing him to the establishment and the children inside. How he beat down every single one of the kids that dared to try touch you, no, L will never let anybody touch you. Especially when you’re asleep and vulnerable

Light merely approaching or leaning over to L at the very moment to discuss topics or hand over file documents had the pale insomniac man kicking at him in a protective panic. L almost lost you to a horrible rainstorm-induced cold, where he had to use everything his IQ could prosper at that young age to produce a effective medicine alternative to save your life. After that, L has always been overprotective and as your caretaker, he must do everything to raise you and still work as the World’s Greatest Detective

He was very against you joining the case but you went everywhere with him, to every case and to every country. He would never leave you alone, not even for a minute. The only person he truly trusted you with was Watari but since the beloved elderly man was nowhere to be seen, L has to protect you from basically nothing but his own anxiety. He knew his protectiveness was nonsense but he didn’t care, his brotherly love was stronger than his rationality

You’re the only blood he has left in this cruel harsh world and you’re now sitting in the building complex where the Police try track down the world’s most deadly killer. He can’t lose you. To nothing, no Kira, no Taskforce, no wannabe Detective Ls. He will die to the Death Note for you and only you, he won’t let Kira discover your name and drag you into heaven far too early. You must live your life first and if risking his means it will happen, it will happen at all causes

“Dokusha… sweetheart. Up you go, Watari has arrived to transport you to our room. Don’t fret, I’ll be joining you after I’m finished with my duties here, alright?”

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

what do you like about cars?

I think you knew, upon asking this, that I could only ever have answered with either an ironic one-liner or a dozen-part novel. And unfortunately, this is already the second line, so novel it is. So then, without any further ado than the literal half year that’s gone by since this was asked, let's go.

1. Engineering matters

At the end of last year (aka when I started writing this, yikes) my dear old iPhone 6S moved on to a new home because it simply wasn't keeping up with me anymore. (And again, I was using an iPhone 6S in 2023. If I say a phone is too slow, it's too slow.) I had plenty of criteria for the replacement: a smallish screen not overboard on resolution, ideally a physical media control button and/or vibration toggle, repairability, a FUCKING AUX JACK... Something like the Sony Xperia 10, whose only real issue is marketing so trash you've only just now learned Sony never stopped making phones.

And yet...

This fancy wallpapers-sporting foldable is a Motorola RAZR 5G, a phone whose too-big screen already broke (though at the edge due to adhesive issues) and those who dared try warn repairing it will be as hard as phone repairs get. Why the fuck did I buy this? Well, because it has something more important than the aux jack, proper sizing, and good cameras: it made me go “That’s so cool!”, and when’s the last time a phone made you say that? It's the cusp of a new technology, and whether it becomes the future of phones, a future of phones, or just a weird footnote, it is an island of interesting in a sea of boring. And sadly, even this island is rapidly sinking. The drive for new form factors has already boiled down to the same two phones and their evolution is sinking into the usual millimetric proportion tweaking, camera rearranging, touchscreen expanding, case material switching, fingerprint sensor moving, and spec improvements not even manufacturers can come up with use cases for. I mean, seriously, how does the iPhone 15 differ from a software-updated iPhone X (which is apparently not pronounced "x", so I guess the iPhone Twitter)? Nothing is new. Nothing is tackled differently. The user experience does not differ. And why should it, when iPhone users will get a new one out of habit anyway and many are so tech illiterate moving a button could hospitalize them? Five generation newer and 150% faster are numbers you basically have to trust, because they don't make a difference that matters.

But in cars? 150% faster will matter alright. Even just looking at it. Cars are a visceral experience to even witness, let alone ride in or drive, and the frantic engineering pursuits for performance and overall capability actually have impactful real world implications beyond "some pockets will bulge 1mm less". And their engineering involves so many fields that there’s always a breakthrough going on somewhere - which leads to another reason their engineering is so interesting: there’s simply so much of it that anyone interested in engineering will find something for them, no matter their level or sector of expertise! Interested in mechanics? Well, obviously you’ll have a field day! Aerodynamics? Don't even get me started! Electronics? You're getting more goods by the year! It spread from engine management to safety assists to infotainment to ergonomic adjustments to even suspension and aerodynamics! Sound design? Even just working on the way engines sound is a profession of its own, let alone making these barrels of metal and glass propelling themselves at triple digit speeds through hundreds of explosions a second things you can comfortably have a conversation in - and that's not even mentioning horns and chimes! Hi-Fi? We’ve spent most of a century trying to get concert hall sound from a tiny tin can where everyone sits off-center and everything bumps and shakes around and you have maybe room for two components* a third the normal size and speakers can only be in a handful of places you wouldn’t want them which may well be the next room over**!

And this is just engineering.

*Like everything in the car world, there are exceptions to that

**For those unfamiliar, subwoofers, the speakers dedicated to, indeed, sub-bass, due to their frequent humongousness are often installed in the trunk.

[90s-2000s-barbie]

I wanted to post my more in-depth thrift tips.

I had an ask a while ago asking for my advice on tips. And I’ve had this in my drafts for a while just to make sure I really added everything I wanted to. So I’ve been going to thrift stores and garage sales my whole life but really picked it and collecting up as a hobby in 2009. Starting with basics. When I personally thrift, I go to local flea markets, thrift stores, garage sales, church sales, goodwills, any place near by that re sells used items. It’s cheaper in person than looking online. 100%.

My Main Rules:

Never pay full price. This stuff is USED and older for that matter. I don’t care if people think it’s rare, it’s used. Some things are on their last legs of life. I can’t tell you how many times I bought a vintage item or even clothes and they break, tear ex as soon as u get home, test it out, wear it then it breaks! It happens!) always keep that in mind. I also like to keep E6000 clear glue around just in case it’s something I can fix. (If u also try E6000, make sure to follow instructions on bottle exact and it will hold up forever. I glued heavy glass and it’s still together years later)

Only possibly think of spending a little more if the item is in a box and old stock or if it’s super meaningful to you. BUT if u use my tips, u can find old stock in boxes cheap even or decent priced when thrifting. I only pay little more or seek something out if it’s meaningful to me or extremely sentimental. (Old favorite toy or I got rid of and want back, something I always wanted and can now cause I’m 30! Ex….) 😂 otherwise, I don’t buy if the price isn’t right.

If you aren’t sure if it’s actually vintage, look for the year on the item, tag ex, or if u have a phone, look it up, look up the brand! Some super old stuff don’t have years on them too so keep that in mind, helps to use google.

I feel like if u go thrifting enough, u will find whatever you are looking for eventually so if the price isn’t right, don’t buy! You will probably see it again eventually and if you also do this as a hobby, u have a lifetime to come upon it again. lol

Go when u can afford it or really want to. I use to go WEEKLY, I would find things every week cause they constantly have different stuff. lol but now I have bills now and things are expensive, so it’s just not realistic for me anymore. I go once or maybe twice a month if I’m lucky. BUT I will admit, u will find a lot of items if u go weekly and can get first dibs but it can get pricey as it all adds up of course.

Leave no stones unturned. So when I go to the thrifting, I look EVERYWHERE. I spend HOURS. lol Sometimes u find the best stuff in the weirdest spots! I found a ADULT Powerpuff girls sweater from 2000 in the kids xl section! I’ve found vintage bedding on random clothing wracks. Sometimes things get moved, you will be surprised on what u will find.

So this use to be one of my rules when I had a better phone plan lol but if I feel like I’m questioning a price on an item, I use to look it up on eBay or google. (If you use eBay, their is settings they show what items actually sell for and not just what they r listed as. THIS HELPS. Sometimes people put insane prices but they definitely aren’t selling for that much! Helps to see the actual value if u need to.)

If u go to garage sales or flea markets, don’t be scared to ask for prices or make offers. If u like it, ask! If the price isn’t right, just say thanks and go on ur merry way. Key is always be nice and respectful if they don’t budge on price. You’ll probably see it again. lol. Least u asked! I use to be too shy to ask and I’d regret it! Also I’d go home empty sometimes cause of it. But now, I seem to really connect with people and try to be nice, talk to them like a potential friend! Sometimes the interaction makes my day and I can get a laugh out of some people. Even sometimes being nice and funny person can go a long way with others. One time I went to a small town and it was the last day of garage sale weekend and people just seemed so nice and liked me, they gave me stuff for free it kept happening throughout the day! lol Sometimes people won’t budge on prices though and that’s fine. And other times, people just want stock or items gone! lol They want money, they don’t wanna take the junk back inside their home and I get it! lol for example, one place gave me stuff for free cause she was trying to get rid of kids toys, her kids had so much she gave me stuff for free, some powerpuff girl plushies for 25 cents! One time, I had a guy tell me a doll I was looking at was worth $200. (Which He was right they sold for that much in box, I looked it up when I got home) he said was worth $200 but he was asking $20 cause he wanted it sold. He had no attachment and needed extra cash as he kept buying to resell but hasn’t sold much. I told him she’s cute but idk. I kept looking at his other items. Finally when I walked away, he shouted $10! I bought her up! lol One day, I bought a giant box of McDonald’s toys, (second photo from top right above the TMNT bag) for $2 for the entire Box!! Completely full! Was a family at the flea market that was just having a garage sale so to speak, they were moving so they didn’t want anything! lol Also an example too of the opposite scenario, an older lady was selling all spice girls dolls in box for $80 dollars all together (at the time the whole lot was cheaper on eBay, they were $45 for the lot and this stuff wasn’t popular so it just wasn’t selling at the time.) I asked price of baby spice alone and she wouldn’t split the band. I said ok thanks and went on my merry way! I later in life got 3 of the girls for $10 to $6 a piece in box. lol

HAVE FUN. This is my hobby. I’ve been doing this as a hobby since 2009! Of course it takes a while to get as much as I have. But I really only recommend thrifting if u REALLY enjoy it and collecting. You really have to enjoy it and to keep going! It’s like a treasure hunt to me! I do it as a collector cause it’s a blast. I‘ve met such interesting people, I’ve seen such cool things even if I didn’t bring it home and couldn’t afford the item. It’s fun! It’s so exciting to find something on a shelf u haven’t seen in years. Also fun to find things u forgot existed or just speak to u personally! I literally buy anything that just feels like it belongs with me anymore. I fall in love with the moment I look at it. I use to think, oh people will think I’m weird? and I still remember those items I passed up YEARS later and say why did I leave that behind? lol 😂 It’s such a cool hobby. I can tell u what I paid for just about everything! 😂 I remember it all cause I really do love it and I LOVE deals.

Also, all the pictures above are mine and things I thrifted, do not steal! If u have any questions about how much I paid for some of these items, or have any questions in general, don’t be afraid to ask. If u wanna know tips about thrifting on toys, clothes, ex, please ask! I will try to help to the best of my knowledge. The 2nd photo, 6th, 7th, 9th and 10th photo are perfect examples cause it’s everything I got at ONE flea market or thrift store, just one stop. Sometimes I find full collections! Each photo are from different days but are definitely good examples. Also if I forget anything I feel is super important to add, I’ll probably post another part 2 or something. ❤️ hope this helps someone.

I think it it would be cool, if any followers decided to thrift or if you use any of my tips and find some cool stuff, to make a post and tag me! Show me ur cool finds, what tips helped the you the best if u feel like adding that.