#den’s custom pens

[terakopian]

18th annual Black & White Spider Awards

Absolutely thrilled to share that six of my images have been chosen by the jury of the 18th annual Black & White Spider Awards. Honorable Mention in People | Conversations With Dimension Deep Conversations. Paris Baguette in the newly renovated and re-opened Battersea Power Station, London, UK. November 03, 2022. Photo: Edmond Terakopian. Lumix LX100 Mk2. Honorable Mention in Abstract |…

[smokesandsonatas]

I just want to see the Octavinelle trio get surprised, tongue-tied and amused because the reader is cunning.

Characters: Azul, Jade, and Floyd.

Warnings: None, just the old contract signing the Octavinelle way. First person pov. Mostly in Azul's pov. Tension (?).

Not beta read.

Shrimp Cocktail.

Apparently, it does not take a lot to amuse the Octavinelle trio. Or the story where you took a deal with Azul and it went unexpectedly.

They should learn not to underestimate Shrimpy.

Azul had always underestimated you. In his eyes, you were a mere human—a dimwitted fish floundering in the waters of Night Raven College. You lacked the cunning and intelligence of Jade, who could manipulate any situation with a few well-placed words, and you weren’t a lazy smartass like Floyd, who could memorize an entire book but discard it just as easily if he found it dull and boring. With your easy-going nature, you seemed like the perfect prey.

Well, you are the perfect prey.

Here you are, sitting in Azul’s office at the Mostro Lounge, the twins flanking you in chairs beside you. Floyd lounged with a lazy grin, manspreading on the sofa, while Jade sat, poised like a gentleman, a smirk barely concealed behind his gloved hand. Grim had been left behind at the ramshackle dorm, leaving you alone in the scammer's den. Azul could barely contain his amusement—you had just fallen into his trap, one he fully intended to exploit. You sat quietly in front of him, your face poised with a neutral expression. To Azul and the twins, you looked kind, naive—perhaps even a little stupid. They think you are an airhead. Their excitement was barely contained. They got you right where they wanted you to be. Here in Mostro Lounge, with no one but them watching over you like predators waiting to pounce and choke their prey.

"You're here for the favor of us providing Grim with food three times a day, seven days a week, for the duration of your absence with Professor Trein as the school's official photographer at an event outside Night Raven College," Azul began, his voice dripping with the saccharine politeness he used to mask his true intentions. "In exchange, you agreed that you will work for fourteen days, regular shifts, without any compensation for Mostro Lounge. I expect you to fully commit to your duties."

You nodded, hands neatly placed on your lap, a small smile on your lips. "Yes, that’s exactly it."

Jade’s grin widened slightly. You were so naive, so predictable. Pathetic, really—but there was something endearing about your earnestness. Everyone in Octavinelle liked this about you—how you walked into traps with your eyes wide open, never realizing until it was too late. You really are a shrimp, through and through. No sense of survival, no sense of fear.

Jade could feel his twin looking earnestly in you, their expression one of amusement.

You will never survive in the ocean.

"Very well then, Prefect," Azul continued, practically trembling with excitement as he handed you a golden scroll, a quill magically appearing in his gloved hand. "Sign this contract, and the favor you ask shall be yours."

You took the pen, hovering it just above the dotted line. Azul’s eyes gleamed with anticipation—just a few more minutes—seconds, and you’d be bound by his terms, forced into two weeks of unpaid labor. The satisfaction was almost too much to bear. You would be working without compensation, and Azul could even charge you for any drinks or food you will consume during your shifts!

Azul had also noticed that whenever you work, customers come flocking in! Is it because you're the famed Ramshackle dormleader? He can only suspect so. He might also have you gather more customers—all for free, technically, you are working free to him anyway.

Azul raised an eyebrow when he saw you set the pen down and lean back, that small smile on your lips widening into something sharper, more calculating.

Azul frowned.

"Azul," you began, your voice light and casual, but with an edge that made the room’s atmosphere shift. The twins noticed it too. Jade’s eyes narrowed slightly yet the smirk remains in his lips, and Floyd’s grin widened a little more as they both watched you closely—their eyes glued to you as a clear sign of their newfound interest.

Azul blinked, thrown off by your sudden change in demeanor. "Is something wrong, Prefect?"

"Not at all," you replied smoothly. "I’ve just been thinking about our arrangement. Fourteen days of unpaid work for three meals a day for Grim. It sounds like a fair trade, but then I realized something interesting."

Azul’s hand twitched slightly as he tried to maintain his composure. The contract is perfect in his eyes, all will favour him, how could it not be perfect? "And what might that be?"

You leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Well, the contract is almost perfect. Almost. But there’s one tiny detail that caught my attention—the meals for Grim. You’ve agreed to provide them three times a day, seven days a week, but the contract doesn’t specify the quality of those meals, does it?"

Azul’s smirk faltered, it is common sense that Grim will be given tuna in cans, isn't it? "The meals will be adequate, and his favourite tuna—"

"Ah, ‘adequate,’" you interrupted, your tone almost playful. "That could mean anything, really. Some stale bread, leftover scraps—technically, that would fulfill the contract, wouldn’t it?" You giggle, a sound so sweet it almost had the twins—in their fascination, to stand up and hover behind you. You heard a thud, no doubt it was the twins. Jade’s eyes narrowed, yet his smirk remains, replaced by a look of intrigued and amusement. Floyd sat up straight, fully intending to be by your side yet his uniform was immediately yanked down by Jade, stopping him from interfering. Floyd almost let out a hiss at his twin, though eventually he relents.

"But here’s where things get interesting," you continued, voice dropping to a near sweet tone that Azul use. "If Grim receives such ‘adequate’ meals, he might not be satisfied. A can of tuna alone won't cut it, he needs meat. A properly cooked, healthy meat seeing as he is a carnivore. He could get hungry, irritated—perhaps even cause trouble." You pout—a gesture which distracted Azul for a second as his eyes fell on your lips—appearing as meek as possible, "And as his caretaker, his henchman, I’d be worried. Distracted. And a distracted worker is an inefficient worker."

You locked your eyes against Azul's blue ones.

Azul’s eyes widened as he began to see where you were leading him. He blinked in intrigued and a mix of irritation and amusement.

"And," you pressed on, now leaning on the table, merely inches away from Azul's face. "if Grim were to get sick or cause problems because of poor nutrition, it wouldn’t just be a problem for me." You roll the scroll and use it to poke Azul's chest. "It would be a problem for Mostro Lounge. After all, you’re responsible for providing his meals, for almost a week at that. Any disruption he causes would reflect poorly on your business, wouldn’t it?"

Azul’s mind raced as he tried to find a loophole, but you had him cornered. Refusing your amendment meant sticking to a contract that could end up causing more trouble than it was worth. Agreeing to it, however, would mean committing to a higher standard of care for Grim, cutting into his profits. Twenty-one cans of tuna is not a big expense for him, but if you're to insist on nutritious meals... Well, that would cost him much more than what he intended to provide for your gremlin of a cat.

A simple overlooked in his part really, perhaps it is his fault for thinking you're one of those anemones that will blindly agree to anything without reading the fine print.

Finally, Azul forced a smile. "What do you propose, Prefect?"

You smiled sweetly, as if this were all a friendly discussion. "I propose that the meals provided for Grim meet a specific standard. Balanced, nutritious, and satisfying. A mix of tuna and properly cooked meat. A steak even. That way, Grim stays in good condition, I stay focused on my task outside of Night Raven College, and Mostro Lounge continues to run smoothly." You smiled at Azul as you lean at the table—mere inches away from his face, the octomerman can practically inhale your scent, have you always smelled this good?

"I also propose that I won't do overtime during my shifts for fourteen days, though I will not get paid, I would love it if my meals and drinks are free of charge—all within the time of my shift, of course."

You smiled sweetly at Azul—the way you don't break eye contact. It's exhilarating. It's making him sweat under his dorm uniform. "It’s in everyone’s best interest, don’t you think?"

Azul hesitated. This was not the agreement he had envisioned. His meticulously designed scheme had been dismantled by your shrewd maneuvering. We're you secretly a trickster? Appearing naive and helpless yet you are the one who catches people in your trap of being a false prey.

With a begrudging sigh, he conceded, "Very well, I’ll agree to the contract your propose. The meals provided for Grim will meet the specified standards, and you shall have the favours you asked during the course of your shift at Mostro Lounge."

You picked up the pen again, a triumphant glint in your eyes as you prepared to finalize the deal. A sweet, sweet, smile on your lips. "Thank you, Azul. I’m so glad we could come to an agreement."

As you signed the contract, Azul's sense of triumph morphed into a tumult of frustration and begrudging admiration. It's disgusting, your body language appeals to him—he knows it appeals to the twins too, given how Floyd is laughing right now, with Jade snickering beside him. You're one of the first—if not the first who had successfully turned the tables on him. It is not even a heavy contract, just an agreement for food and yet, Azul concedes to your demands. Though he suppose it is not bad, since he will see you everyday for almost two weeks. What had seemed like a one-sided victory for him had morphed into a more balanced exchange. You had come into his office alone, seemingly naive, and yet you had outmaneuvered him with words that unsettled him deeply, yet amused him greatly—jellyfishes swimming on his stomach. Perhaps during that time for your compensation he will invite you to his office so he can give you a proper assessment.

Heh, not bad at all.

Jade and Floyd had their mismatched eyes glued on your form, as you stand. Admiring the sway of your hips as you walk outside the room where nobody ever comes out as victorious as you are. You, a small shrimp, had greatly amused the twins. Unfortunately for you, Floyd hates being bored and Jade loves unpredictability—both qualities you tickled the moment you succesfully negotiated a deal with none-other-than Azul Ashengrotto.

As you left the room, Floyd let out a low, almost purring chuckle—how dare you Shrimpy? His blood is now pumping in excitement because of you. "Hehe, Shrimpy’s got some real bite, huh? This is gonna be interesting."

Jade’s gaze followed you with a newfound intensity. "Indeed. The prefect is far more dangerous than they appear. Heh, perhaps they relish the game, much like we do."

Azul was left staring at the contract, his frustration intertwined with a growing, unsettling admiration. You weren’t the dimwitted fish he had thought you were. No, you were a tempest—a captivating, unpredictable force in the waters of Octavinelle. The way you had twisted the terms of the agreement had left him both disturbed and intrigued. Your brilliance was both unsettling and exhilarating, making him realize that you were a much more dangerous fish than he had ever anticipated.

A shiver of something dark and obsessive crept into his thoughts. You had managed to turn a simple negotiation into a display of strategic dominance, leaving him with a dangerous mix of respect and a growing, unsettling fascination. The twins are no better, Jade glues you into his memory, the way you answer casually—it is attractive. Floyd is well, Floyd. He might visit you later and compliment you for outsmarting Azul!

Hehe, who would've thought you are a predator in your own right? Perhaps the shrimp cocktail is a dish best served cold after all.

[astralis-is-typing]

We lost the Summer

⚝fic type: Y/A (coming-of-age)

⚝genre/contains: huening kai x reader, fluff, angst, gn!reader, non-idol!au, friends2lovers if you wish on your lucky stars haha

⚝warnings: quite a few mentions of food (mostly ice-cream), one mention of alcohol (beer), brief mention of bullying (unspecified)

⚝word count: 2.5k, pt 1/2 (part 2)

⚝A/N: To help combat the lack of stand-alone hyuka fics on here ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ As the title suggests, this is inspired by the song of the same name by txt! Hope that helps explain why I'm posting a winter-themed fic on the onset of summer lol.

You always seemed to be missing a piece of stationery in 5th grade. Every time a lost pencil was replaced by your exasperated mother, there went your ruler the following week. It wasn’t until halfway into the term that you realized it was your plushie-loving deskmate, Kai. His speciality was pickpocketing your array of coloured glitter pens. Those were his favourite. It boiled your blood immensely but your teacher refused to change the seating plan, no matter how much you pleaded.

Between this and his penchant for tearing up pieces of paper to bits, you don’t even know how you and Huening Kai became friends.

It perhaps started as a result of one of his hushed comments about another classmate. He reminded you a lot of one of your aunts who loved to gossip. He even eagerly leaned in just like she did whenever you quickly whispered the latest playground drama into his awaiting ear. Kai would be stifling snorts as you exchanged notes under your shared table while your unsuspecting teacher jotted endless notes onto the whiteboard.

Sometimes, you thought he did this to make you feel better about the bullying you went through. If Kai ever found you sitting alone in class, sad after someone taunted you, he’d immediately crack a joke to make you feel better. All the kids were a little mean to each other, you’d try reason to yourself that way in a bid to keep what you thought was self-pity at bay. You just never really learned the art of sticking up for yourself. Kai took your mind off it. It was the best he could do as he hated confrontations of any kind.

Eventually, your friendship grew firm enough to bloom outside the confines of your school’s walls. It was a surprise to find out you lived on the same street. You’d never seen him while playing outside, but he explained his family would go visit his grandparents in another part of town on most weekends.

To add to that, Kai was quite the homebody and preferred to hole up in his room playing video games (while being surrounded by a hoard of stuffed animals) during his down time. This gradually changed the longer you two were friends. You lured him out of his den to be your dance buddy with promises of mint-chocolate ice cream and skittles as a reward.

You’d spend your weekends in each other’s company, bouncing between each other’s houses. You had been formally introduced to all his plushies, and your mom always served Kai extra helpings of whatever she was cooking when he came over.

The memory makes you sigh as you stand outside an ice-cream shop deciding what to order. The cool November breeze feels delicious as you stretch your legs after a long morning of studying in your university’s stuffy library. Your habit of eating ice-cream no matter the season had extended to your adult life. Other customers– bundled in their winter coats– eye you weirdly as you determinedly go over the shop’s ice-cream menu. Exam season was around the corner and the hours you had been putting in were starting to catch up with you. It showed through the eye bags sagging underneath your tired eyes and the yawns you barely manage to stifle under a gloved palm.

You’d moved to a different city after high school following your acceptance into a university there. The institution had been your second option– you’d narrowly missed your first and that fact had left you sour for months. Nevertheless, the classes were going good and the people you had met so far were nice enough… but when it came to finding a place that suited your niche for some much needed ‘me time’, you weren’t in luck. You missed your happy place, the record shop back home. No place in the city had offered you that comforting familiarity so far. It was quite a daunting experience to have to find new spots outside of your dorm to unwind.

You’d sometimes pop into that corner store even when you didn’t have the money to buy new music– just to look at what albums were up. The owner who’d come to know you well had gifted you an album when you graduated. You’d been saving up for the vinyl version so you could listen to it on the record player Kai got you for your thirteenth birthday.

He bought it for himself, really– because within a few months your shelves were filled with more of his albums than your own. He claimed he was tired of using the old gramophone his grandmother had given them, and would stumble into your room on a Saturday afternoon with his arms stacked with albums.

Sometimes, they were so many he’d have to cage the top of the hoard in with his chin. He’d be leaning back from the weight, his long black bangs obscuring his eyesight, and by the time he got to your doorstep the stack was teetering so precariously your mother had to relieve him of nearly half the collection as the two of them lugged the heap into the house.

Almost all your childhood memories contained Kai.

It made you dimly think that it wasn’t the places back home you missed. Rather, the memories they held. And if so many of these memories were about Kai then you should probably stop beating around the bush, and admit that you indeed missed him. You'd catch yourself checking your calendar more often than you cared to admit, having randomly remembered a date that was important to the two of you.

Every lunar eclipse, the Wednesday specials at your favourite restaurant, all his plushies’ birthdays, rock collectors’ day… all these silly little events that brought you two joy in between your harrowing school life. At the end of a long week- no matter what any of your classmates had said or the tests Kai had flunked– the two of you would still be able to scramble to his or your dining table with smiles, eagerly waiting for dinner.

You and Kai had unfortunately drifted apart towards the end of high school and over the course of the months spent in a new city you’d been convincing yourself that it didn’t bother you as much as you knew it did– deep down. You reckoned that even when you went back home at the end of the semester, the two of you wouldn’t have much in common. You had matured over time and you were sure Kai had too.

A big part of your moving away was about becoming a better version of yourself– away from the influences you grew up with. Initially, it had been a real struggle to find your footing; you subconsciously felt that you had something to prove to the kids you went to school with. They were always putting you down and you had ended up changing so many aspects of yourself at the time and sucking up to them to be more likeable.

You’d started hanging out with a different crowd around your senior year, ironically containing some of the people who would bully you. It was easier to ignore that fact than the spurts of serotonin you got every time you said something witty enough to make them laugh. Your school didn’t have much of a social hierarchy, so you wouldn’t necessarily call them the ‘cool kids’. That was far too cliché. They were just… different. Wholly unlike your small group of friends that you’d had previously.

It irked Kai, seeing you put up some type of façade. Granted, he had begun to change too, becoming more temperamental in his late teenage years. To you, he was far too moody and snapped too often. So many of your little arguments turned into big fights and eventually there was an ice wall between the two of you.

The tension had really stressed you out at first, but your mother had told you to give things time to cool down. Your family was still wholesomely pleasant to Kai, even though his visits became few and far in between. She’d said that the two of you would still be friends in the end, that if it was ‘meant to be’ it would work itself out. You had been sceptical about that take, and even more so when her advice didn’t work.

He stopped coming over, the few albums he’d left on your shelf abandoned and gradually gathering dust as you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to them without him. The two of you were exchanging nothing more than rushed pleasantries in the hallways by that point.

Wandering through the city alone reminded you strongly of those lonely lunch time hours following your fallout with Kai. You would usually run all your plans through him and the two of you would figure out what to do together. Nevertheless, the loneliness taught you to have some individuality, and there were no ‘if’s or ‘but’s about that. It was the trait you admired most in Kai. His ability to block out all the noise and do whatever the heck he wanted.

Kai never succumbed to peer pressure, even at a young age. More so during the onslaught of crush culture, when he simply laughed (unnecessarily loud) at the antics your classmates pulled to impress their desired guy or girl. Huening Kai would be caught dead sacrificing his lunch money to woo someone with a gift he bought instead. When he was on the receiving end of such bestowals, however, his boisterous laughter would be replaced with a bashful giggle as he amicably thanked whoever gifted him.

You’d caught yourself gazing at him rather too fondly yourself… noticing little attributes that endeared him to you in a way that sparked a foreign sensation in your gut. The way his lips puckered when he had his cheeks stuffed with a cupcake, the faint smell of his mother’s favourite detergent that lingered on your pillow long after a sleepover had ended… the teasing lilt his voice would adopt as he called out your name while messily tying his soccer cleats’ laces...

Some days you would run ahead of him just to hear it, leaving him to struggle as he hunkered down in a corner of the grassy soccer pitch. However, your older sister had advised you against making any kind of move. Having been the victim of unsuccessful confessions herself, she’d warned that you would be ruining a good friendship. And so your budding infatuation simmered to an eventual halt.

—

Walking the familiar path back to the university, you were drawn out of your reverie by a dog running up to you and wagging its tail at your feet. The poor thing barely reached your shin and your heart swelled at the sight of its tiny brown frame. Its owner smiled at you cordially as you reached down to pat it, its fluffy fur comforting you even through your gloves as you hold your ice-cream at arm’s length with your other hand. The best part about winter-time ice-cream sprees was that you didn’t need to worry much about it melting and dripping onto the pup.

As it merrily trotted back to its owner you took a short lick of your treat with a smile on your face, marvelling at how such a small encounter could change the course of your day for the better. It was these little excitements that reminded you of why you’d taken the chance and moved.

The city isn't all bad, you muse, looking into the buildings you pass that are buzzing with activity as the day wears on. As you’d previously established, the people around here were nice. You’d made at least one good friend this semester. A lanky, fluffy haired boy named Soobin. Oh, how you wish you could stuff him in your pocket! Sure, you had to crane your neck up to look him in the eye and his hands were so big that your face could fit in one alone, but his soft disposition absolved your initial intimidation.

Soobin was in your economics class and had approached you in the cafeteria two weeks into the term, offering you a seat at his lunch table with a few of his friends. The space was so huge and it was jarring trying to find a place to sit. You remember shyly agreeing; silently kicking yourself for managing to give off a ‘lost puppy’ kind of vibe when you were supposed to be making a shot at being independent. By now, however, you had gotten sufficient time to practice– there were so many decisions you had to make for yourself now... socially, mentally and especially financially.

Hacking this new chapter of your life solo had been a tempting plan, but Soobin was fun to be around. Between your shared love for gaming and his seemingly aloof personality that complemented your over-analysing one, the two of you made quite the pair. On top of that he was a great wingman on the rare occasion you met someone you found cute at a fair or convention.

You hadn’t yet been swept up by the notorious college night life (not with the workload your major came with), but Soobin was still with you the few times you’d actually attend a party. He’s the one who would get you invited anyway; you didn’t know how he did it since he was such a homebody. Him sticking with you had more to do with keeping you from escaping than anything else, though.

“You really need to enjoy this time while you’re at it,” he had tried persuading you on one such occasion, switching your mocktail for a beer. You’d been quick to shove it back in his retreating hand, spilling a little of your drink on your shorts in the process. He’d laughed at you rumbustiously for what felt like forever until you nagged him, calling him by his full name and ordering him to go get you a napkin.

“You’ll miss these opportunities sorely when you’re like, forty and have kids to feed.” He’d called back ominously as he disappeared into the crowd. He was still rambling on about how these were the ‘prime years’ of your life while being swept up into the sea of swaying bodies and you struggled to hear him over the bass of the pop song blaring through the speakers. You vaguely recalled that it was your sister’s favourite and raised a glass in her honour. Somehow, you managed to spill even more of your drink in the process. Soobin just happened to return at that moment, and your dimpled friend could barely contain his amusement even when shot with the deadliest glare you could muster.

The pleasure Soobin derived from your misfortunes strongly reminded you of Kai, who’s favourite misgiving of yours was your clumsiness. You vividly remember a day when you were rushing from math to P.E., attempting to tie your shoelaces while standing. As you tumbled to the ground in a hazardous heap, his laugh echoed down the hallways, causing teachers in the nearby classrooms to peep through their respective doors and glare at you two disapprovingly.

⚝A/N: I've been working on this story for quite a while and I'm happy with the way it's turning out :) I'd love to hear your thoughts xx

[zhaliacain]

Huntikmas day 17- What stationary the team uses

Sophie:

Sophie 100% has themed, colour coordinated and designer stationary. Most of it is named brands or personalised with her name or initials, she's someone I can see with a leather portfolio case with her initials on which she keeps her day to day stationary and paperwork essentials. She's also colour coordinated, goes all in with the pastel highlighters and post it note colour themes.

Dante:

Okay so I based Dante's stationary on his desk theme which is organised, modern and minimalist. I believe Dante has a set of stationary which he uses daily, tries to keep it to a minimum so he's not overwhelmed with half used pens and replaces when he needs it. He's also got lots of file organisers and folders, both for council work and for the detective work. Like Sophie I suspect he has also got personalised stationary but it's just note papers, cards, and anything else he uses for his side hustle.

Zhalia:

I like that when packing up her life, Zhalia's priorities are her three favourite pens. I think Zhalia is probably someone that has one brand of pen she likes and that is all she will use. Apart from that one pen I don’t think she bothers with any other stationary. She definitely keeps the pencils from Ikea because they’re conveniently sized and anything else was nicked from Klaus’ lab or the organisation stationary cupboards/now Dante's desk.

Cherit:

It’s amazing how many dolls house stationary accessories are actually functional. Obviously some are just bits of toys but there’s tiny notebooks, rulers and even pencils and crayons that would actually work for him.

Lok:

Lok is a bit eclectic when it comes to stationary, he doesn't go out of his way to get matching sets and half the pens he owns he doesn't know where they came from. That being said he's got the mandatory GCSE pencil case with the essentials in and everything else he borrows. I reckon he has a journal like his dad's because he wants to emulate the notes Eaton took documenting his travels but he hasn't quite got the hang of recording his findings neatly. He also strikes me as someone that has puzzle stationary like those pens with a maze inside or these post it note puzzle pieces.

Harrison

If the Bloodspirals are finding somewhere to custom order their uniforms, then they have somewhere to custom order their stationary.

Den:

This boy has never bought stationary in his life. He's got one of those cheap sets he was gifted as a small child in the orphanage and that has seen him through his entire life. He is definitely the one always asking to borrow a pen. He has one ratty little rubber that he somehow traded his way into and that's the only consistent piece of stationary in his arsenal. He also has one of those bendy rulers but its permanently bent out of shape and completely unusable.

[utau-fanchildren-combos]

Error x Ink Fanchildren [C-D]

C

Cadenza by @alryriarose

Calamus, by @areallylittleshrimp

Calluna, by @the-creator-undertale-au

Caper Pen, by @lostorigin

Castell.EXE, by RebornHydra, adopted by ElatedFeline

Captcha, by @bobateaboo

Catalog by @slugott

Canvas, by @myta

Cartridge, by @officialwretcheddarkness

Checkmate, by @radio-y3n / @0zmodeus

Chroma, by @autoartist

Cinnamon, by @thesmallsoul

Clause by @nota-01

Clay by @karineverse

Clay, by lilly

Clay by @yuzuki-wolf

Clear, by @iv-horsemen

Clipboard by @slugott

Clover by @yotyanvino

Clutter by ARandomGirlOnD

Code by @nantu22

Code, by ReaperSans/Has Wings

Code, by@Trash01

Color Code, by @0tterLucy

Colorcode, or Color & Code, by @melocakes574

Colour, by ?

Colour, by @soft-peterparker (formerly @swootygold07)

Connie Code, by @Happythrusday24

Contrast, by @kurolini909

Contrast, by @xxeonv (?)

Copt, by Fantastic-Host1035

Copic Marker, by @maple-and-pie

Copic, by @bobateaboo

Craft by @lazydrawershy

Creative Order by Arro29823772

Creative Mode by Lilithblueflame

Critical by @snowy-bones

Crochet by @whatsasilverartistdoinghere

Crystal, by @artybone (not a fanchildren anymore)

Crystal, by errsnskini

Custom (?), by @big-senpai / LexysDesu adopted by AutumnSheep (DeviantArt)

Cyan, by R. I. P. Reaper In Party

Cyclone, by @nova-blues

Cyral, by @nova-blues

Cytrait, by @nova-blues

D

Damask by @boobluebutterly

Daphne, by @ItzL_X3L

Data by @starreaperlutia (No longer in UTAU : new ref)

Dawning, by @star-gamerxox

Debug by @slugott

Defectum, by @defectiveask

Delete File, by @glitchy-post

Delette, by @gvaries

Den, by @hakki-no

Design, by @pepper-mint

Designer by @northyred

Despair, by ?

Dexterity, by @ginganinja

Digit, by @llwandehll

Doodle, by @offical-dystopiantale

Drop, by @mini-shrimp14

Drop, by @uyuni-poyo

[0-#] [A-B] [C-D] [E-F] [G-H] [I-J] [K-L] [M-N] [O-P] [Q-R] [S-T] [U-V] [W-X] [Y-Z]

[floccesyfluff-fest]

The main event, the wool market, starts in the gymnasium of the Floccesy school, spilling out into the halls and even behind the building. Vendors from all over have come to sell their textile wares or handicraft goods. There is a constant flow of people coming in, with patrons stopping to shop or watch craftsmen work at their booths.

Gymnasium Vendors:

The main area for textile vendors. They have sections roped off for various displays to educate potential customers about the processes involved with their wares.

Fleece Dyer: They have set up a stand with their dye pots to show the process. While the rovings used in the display are not for sale, they have a rainbow of pre-dyed rovings to purchase.

Plush vendor: A vendor who has crocheted a whole pokedex has them on display in national dex order and quite a few shiny variants.

Fluff Station: Various tables of freshly cleaned fluff from Pokemon. The fluff rolls are arranged by the typings of Pokemon it came from. Staff are at each table to explain how the fluff is gathered and what are various uses for it.

Spinning: The station with the most action. The worker is using a machine to spin fluff into yarn. Their daughter is using yarn to make kumihimo braids when she is not manning the cash register. The braids she does finish are being sold as “friendship bracelets”. If people ask, the girl can show them how to make twist braids for quick custom bracelets.

Hallway Vendors:

These vendors have various handicraft goods. As the halls are more cramped than the gymnasium, the vendors have smaller stands and are not able to make custom goods on the spot. Some are willing to make custom orders that would be mailed.

Painter: A local artist has set up their table of paintings and advertisements for their studio. Browsing their works, you see that they have been all over Unova, getting paintings of the Relic Castle, the Pokemon League, and Skyarrow Bridge. They have framed paintings, full size prints, and miniature canvases on sale.

Stained Glass: A glass artisan has various sun catchers of various designs hanging on the wall. They have a form for making custom pieces, with price ranges for various sizes and complexities.

Pokeball Painter: A custom Pokeball painter. There are balls for sale with designs according to types, some painted to look like Pokemon, and others are painted to mimic other pokeballs. There are a couple that look like the masterball. Despite the lack of space, the artist has their station set up to paint simple designs on Pokeballs on the spot.

Custom jewelry: Different racks of jewelry section off the space this seller occupies, all crowded with different charms, pendants, and earrings. The majority of the charms that make the jewelry have Unovan sports team logos or semi-precious stones. The children’s racks have plastic cartoon characters on them.

Face painter: The most popular booth for kids! Two painters are set up with their kits and a book of designs to pick from. Many kids are just hopping up onto the provided stools and asking for something without looking.

Outside:

The area in the back is noisy, with a roped off path that leads the crowd around a petting zoo. 

Duck Slide: recently hatched duckletts are hopping down a slide! They waddle back up on ramps on both sides of the slide. There’s a quaxly mixed in with them for some reason.

Skiddo feeding station: For a small fee, visitors can buy a handful of feed for skiddo. The grass types are raised by local children to be shown in the summer fairs later.

Wooloo pen: A pen of freshly shaved wooloo. These Pokemon will headbutt the fencing to try to get pets from visitors.

Yamper run: Yampers are chasing a Boltund who is teaching them how to herd. The smaller yampers will run to the fencing to beg for treats or pets.

Buneary Den: Several buneary are let out to hop around freely. A farmhand is nearby to help show off the tricks the buneary learned! They even have treats for people to feed the pokemon.

Wool Market Starters here!

[thatfanficgurl]

Chapter 5: What if I was Nothing

Silken droplets of guilt poured down from above. She leaned back against the cool metal of Jackie's garage door. What had she done? Why had every choice she made left nothing but crippling decay in its wake? He was with Misty now, not her. She made her choice ten years ago, and this was the consequence. It was hard enough for her to stomach the anguish on his face. Cera's stomach churned and bile rose in her throat. She felt guilty. She felt to blame. She had been to blame for so much, how much more heartache could she cause this man? How much more could she live with? She doubted she could really do either.

Jackie had left her temporarily to speak with a friend of his at el coyote about fixing up V's car. The rain was coming down harder now. Thunder danced seductively along the clouds, hidden somewhere in the night lights. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she sank to the ground. Fingertips dug into the soft skin of her triceps. Pressurized anger so deep that it caused her to bleed. So lost in her own thoughts and self loathing, she never saw Jackie approach.

Squatting on his knees, Jackie reached out, tilting her face so he could look into her eyes, "This isn't like you, chica. Come inside. Get outta this storm." Jackie slowly rose, Cera followed suit. He bent down momentarily, unlocking the garage door. Large strong hands pushed the garage door open, he turned with a smile to show her part of his world now. Misty was right, as much as he knew he hurt her. He needed to know if the Cera he knew was dead and gone. He had to know that the love was no longer there. But she stood out in the thundering storm. Jackie looked at her, concern and worry painted across his face, furrowing his brow. He reached out, fingertips grazing the knuckles on the back of her hand. "Cera?"

"I-I shouldn't have made a sound. I should have stayed silent." Cera stared down the alley in front of her. Her mind told her to run but she couldn't find it in her heart to go through with it. Not this time. "You should have-"

"Don't." his voice was stern as Jackie stepped back out into the rain. A little water wasn't going to hurt him. His fingertips caressed her cheek, the thumb of right hand carefully touched her lips. How he longed to kiss her... "Don't say it."

"But-" she started to protest when Jackie cupped her face in both of his hands.

"Cera, please. Don't say I should have left you there. In that scav den. I wouldn't have left anyone there. 'specially not you." His eyes scanned her face. He didn't find the cold heartless bitch his anger told him he'd find, there was genuine remorse there. "I jus' wanna know why. Por favor. Ayúdame a entender."

Cera pulled herself from his hands, stepping into the garage. High concrete ceilings decorated with posters of cars, Night City gangsters and scantily clad women. In the opening on the left side sat a motorcycle. A custom ARCH. Cera wasn't surprised. Jackie had been riding bikes since before she walked into his life. On the right side, sat a bench press. No wonder he kept so fit.

Her hands trailed along the edge of the metallic counter. Worn but well read was the weathered spine of a book beside where she stood. Picking it up, she instantly recognized the cover. For whom the bell tolls by Ernest Hemingway. Had she forgotten it? Opening the cover, there was the faintest hint of black ink from a pen weathered from time. "To my dearest Jaquito. With love, Cera." She whispered the words. "You kept this?" She asked, turning to see Jackie standing in the doorway of an additional add on room. Glancing over his shoulder, Cera could see a sofa pulled out into a make shift bed, a hand made sand mandala pushed into the corner of the room. There was a small desk behind a few lockers that had a standard sized computer on top of it.

Jackie leaned against the door casing, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. "Why wouldn't I? I loved you, Cera. That hasn't changed. No importa cuánto rompiste mi corazón". he looked at her through expressive green eyes. Jackie was always an intimidating brute of a man. Even when he was young. But that never stirred Cera away. That woman was fire walking along the edges of a storm. Captivating amber eyes that let you know exactly what was up.

"I never meant to. I never wanted that." Cera said, putting the book back down. Jackie turned and showed her the bed.

"Storms gettin' nastier outstide. The coyote is empty now if you want, I can sneak you in. Let you clean up in the bathroom. Then we can come back here n rest." she didn't have the energy to argue, so Cera nodded in agreement to his proposal. Swiftly, Jackie led her out of the garage, through the back door of the bar and to the bathroom. Upon entering, Cera took a good look at herself in the mirror. She was a wreck. Invisible stitches along her neck barely visible to the naked eye. Quickly, she stripped. washing herself with hand soap and water. She would be lying if she said she hadn't washed herself like a homeless person before. Cera would have been lying if she said she was never homeless. The warm water felt good against her skin. Closing her eyes, she imagined. Imagined his hot breath against her bare skin. Bodies pressed up against the shower wall. Lips locked revealing secrets that only angels could hear, silent whispers writing poetry on their skin. Her skin flushed with heat forcing her eyes back open. She was still so deeply in love with Jackie. Time nor distance had changed that. He was impossible not to love. Hands gripped the edge of the sink as she stared at her naked reflection. He still loved her. He still loved her... After all she had done. After all the hell she had wrought...she doubted she even deserved it.

Still, Cera got redressed, slipping out the back door and back out into the pouring rain. The walk back to the garage was brief, stepping inside she could see Jackie handing her a pair of clothes. "Thought you might wanna change." he handed her one of his black t-shirts and a pair of red and black basketball shorts. Cera took them with an appreciative nod. Turning from him, she shrugged off the black leather duster and hung it off the wall. Without thinking, she undid the belt buckle of her cargo pants and dropped them to the floor. Jackie's jaw however hit the fuckin' floor. Her body was incredible. Well toned legs trailed up to a shapely ass with an hour glass waist joytoy's dreamed of. A picturesque tattoo taking up most of her back. Up on her shoulder blades was a massive stained glass monarch butterfly leading down to a shadow of a black raven on her mid and lower back. Jackie watched her in awe, as she turned slightly and caught him looking. Abruptly, Jackie looked away as Cera giggled.

"You can look, ya know? It's not like you aren't my husband." Deliberately, Cera faced him. Peeling off her brown tank top, leaving her bare breasts for him to stare at before covering them with his t-shirt. The silky material stretched tightly over her chest accentuating the small curve of her breasts and how chilly she actually was.

She stepped into the room, laying down and enveloping herself beneath the heavy blankets. "Can-can I join you?" She heard Jackie ask. Rolling back over to face him, Cera's jaw dropped. Jackie had shut the garage door but stood in the doorway of the adjacent room. His shirt was off and he stood in a pair of black jeans. His trapeze muscle on his shoulders hulked in comparison to any other man she had ever seen. His chest was broad with pectorals so large that if she laid her hands on them, she'd feel small. He had an incredible six pack that only added to his goliath size. Cera blushed before pulling back the blankets, shifting herself farther down the mattress. As Jackie laid beside her, she instinctively rolled over with Jackie following suit. Curling one arm under his head, the other draped around her waist. Cera felt him release a relaxing breath as she closed her eyes. She did not dream though; she only remembered.

_________________________

Spanish to English Translation:

Por favor. Ayudame a entender - please help me understand

No importa cuanto rompiste mi corazon - No matter how much you broke my heart

[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

"Tarn, what the fuck? You said you would keep it penned up when you smoke!"

"Nick-Nickel, it's fiiiiiinnnneeee. We found em, right?"

"Get your aft out of my medbay, and get a shower while yer at it! You stink!"

"Aww. It's so cute." The bot that was currently in Darkmount's face was black and hot pink, with purple accents. She had a round, kind face, and custom pink eye lenses. She was heavy set, and looked like she could bench press Griffin Rock firehouse.

As Darkmount brought up her file after clearing the system errors, he realized she easily could, with all four rescue bots inside to boot.

"Darkmount, right? I know you can't talk, but I might have a treat for ya later. Picked up some klickat sparks. Might like em with some engex sometime?"

Darkmount let out an involuntary whine, and twitched uncomfortably.

"Well then, after Nickel gets ya patched up, it's a date! I gotta go, and let ya get some rest. Pretty sure Kaon ain't doing too good." She slipped on a gas mask and left to kick the rest of the DJD out of the smoking den.

Later, Tesarus snuck Darkmount up to her room. Darkmount realized it had been renovated, the prison blocks underneath removed to make the ceilings higher.

It's not like the cells were ever really used.

"Well, um, here's the thing. I might be using mass change right now?" Darkmount looked confused, and Tesarus continued. "Yeah, the ceiling in this room is a little low, but it's the best Tarn could do. And I can't question the boss, right?"

Darkmount blinked, still groggy from Nickel's cocktail of overdose prevention drugs. All he really wanted to do was curl up in the palm of Tesarus's oddly soft hands- Suddenly, Tesarus lurched, and Darkmount was another twenty feet off the ground.

Darkmount chattered in fear, then whined in embarrassment as Tesarus giggled and shifted Darkmount into the palm of her much bigger hand.

"I did try to warn youuuu!" She sang, giggling again. "Shockwave used me as a test subject for a procedure to be used on one of the human converts. It worked a little too well, I miiight be 86ft tall."

"Mrphh." Darkmount grunted, fighting recharge with all his might. "Pfffffthhhh." He slumped over, and recharge pulled him under.

Tesarus, of course, cooed, and, after responding to the dozens of angry comms from Nickel, brought him back to her. She received a welt on her head for her stupidity, but cheerily informed Nickel that seeing Darkmount was worth it.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

I’ve had many young people over the years claim that if I really believed the Bible, I would be obeying all the Old Testament laws!

Though there are more Bibles, study aids, churches, Christian bookstores, television and radio programs, and schools than any other era in history, our young people are incredibly biblically illiterate. Many don’t know what the Bible teaches or that the Bible is the grand narrative pointing to the person and work of Jesus Christ.

As I’ve spoken across America and other parts of the Western world, read research and atheist writings, and answered questions, I’ve noticed a common stumbling block that comes up continually. Most of the younger generations of biblically illiterate young people do not understand the purpose and place of the Old Testament. They’ve never been taught how to properly understand and apply the first thirty-nine books of the Bible, especially the ones dealing with the Mosaic covenant and law.

Because they lack a proper understanding, many in the younger generations will accuse the church of being hypocritical for what they perceive as following some laws and not others.

We hear accusations such as, “So you think homosexuality is wrong, but does that mean we should kill gay people? (Leviticus 20:13)” and “Why do you wear clothes made from two different kinds of fabric since Leviticus 19:19 says not to?” These young people don’t understand the role of the OT because, to them, Christians seem to pick and choose which laws they want to obey. When pastors use Old Testament terminology such as “come to the altar,” “anointing with oil,” or even “the Ten Commandments,” they reinforce in these young minds that Old Testament laws should still apply but that Christians can simply ignore the ones they don’t like.

Now there’s nothing wrong with using Old Testament terminology to communicate truth. After all, the Old Testament is a foreshadowing of what was to come in Jesus Christ and is a vital part of and foundation for our theology. Indeed, New Testament authors not only quoted from the Old Testament and referenced its history, but also frequently pointed their Jewish readers back to Old Testament themes by using words and motifs from the former writings:

"I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present yourself as living sacrifices." (Romans 12:1; see Psalm 50:13–14)

"Seeing then that we have a great High Priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God." (Hebrews 4:14; see Leviticus 21:10–15)

"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded." (James 4:8; see Psalm 24:4)

What the New Testament writers understood was the importance of knowing your audience. If a writer was penning a letter or a gospel to a largely Gentile audience that didn’t have much knowledge of Jewish customs or the Old Testament, he would avoid using Old Testament terms and motifs or would explain them carefully. If he was writing to a largely Jewish audience, he could easily use references to the temple, sacrifices, priests, or Jewish customs and feasts because his audience would have the foundational knowledge to understand what the writer was communicating.

In a sense, the West used to be a “Jewish” audience. In days gone by, even many unbelievers knew biblical history, believed in a Creator God, and largely believed the Bible had at least some authority. If a pastor referenced something from the Old Testament or used a clichéd phrase with Old Testament connotations, the audience understood what was meant. This is not so anymore. Even many of the younger generations who have grown up in the church do not know the Old Testament except perhaps a few scattered accounts such as “Daniel in the lion’s den” or “David and Goliath.” Essentially the audience is no longer “Jewish” but is “Gentile” in their knowledge and thinking.

So how do we effectively minister to a Gentile audience? Well, first we need to help our audience understand the purpose and place of the Old Testament, particularly the Old Testament law. The Old Testament provides the history that the New Testament is based on. It points out our sinfulness, hopelessness, and desperate need for a Savior.

In Genesis we learn that God created a perfect world, but Adam and Eve chose not to obey God’s command and marred the world by their sin. Their children likewise chose disobedience, as did their children after them. Eventually the world became so wicked that God judged it with a global flood. Only righteous Noah and his family survived. But, just a few generations later, mankind rebelled against God again. Eventually God chose a covenant people, Israel, for himself and gave them his law. They failed to live by it time and time again. This pattern of failing to keep God’s law repeats itself throughout the whole Old Testament. The history of mankind and the nation of Israel clearly show that we cannot keep God’s commands and laws on our own.

With this backdrop, the New Testament teaching of salvation through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ makes sense. Salvation is by faith alone (Ephesians 2:8), in Christ alone (Acts 4:12), because sinful human beings have fallen short of God’s law (Romans 3:23) and can never keep it. So Christ kept it for us (Matthew 5:17). What we could never do on our own, Christ did for us because it’s impossible for us to earn our own salvation (Ephesians 2:9). Throughout the Bible we see the unfolding of God’s plan of salvation that culminates in the person and work of Christ. It’s about Jesus from beginning to end!

The Mosaic Law—the law that was given to the Israelites under the Old Covenant—does the same thing as the history of the Old Testament. It highlights our inability to keep God’s commands. The law served as a “tutor” to lead us to Christ (Galatians 3:24) by showcasing our sinfulness (Romans 3:19) and showing us what sin was (7:7). The Law was also designed to keep Israel completely separate and distinct from her pagan neighbors (Leviticus 20:26). Some laws which seem strange to us—such as not mixing fabrics or types of crops—were designed to emphasize the holiness of God (Leviticus 19:2) and the need for Israel to keep herself separate from her neighbors (something she consistently did not do).

The sacrifice of animals and the priesthood, which were so integral to the Old Covenant, were types and shadows of Christ who was to come (the author of Hebrews lays this out beautifully in his letter). Now that Jesus has come, these types have been completely and utterly fulfilled. We are no longer under this Old Covenant (Romans 6:14). Jesus, through his death, burial, and resurrection, has made the first covenant obsolete (Hebrews 8:13) and has brought us into the New Covenant (Luke 22:20) foretold by the prophet Jeremiah (Jeremiah 31:31). We are no longer bound by the Old Covenant—it has been utterly fulfilled and nailed to the cross. So why don’t Christians advocate stoning homosexuals and ban clothing with more than one fiber? Simply because we aren’t under the Mosaic Law, the Old Covenant, anymore. This doesn’t mean the Mosaic Law holds no value for us. The principles of the Law still offer guidance for believers and many have been carried over (Romans 13:9) and are now part of “the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus” (8:2). The Mosaic Law certainly has great value for New Covenant believers (15:4; 1 Corinthians 10:11) but it is no longer binding to us because we are under a different covenant (Hebrews 8:6–7).

Now some people have argued that if God’s laws can change throughout history, then the Bible cannot be relied upon as an absolute foundation for morality. After all, if putting homosexuals to death was the right thing to do in Old Testament times, but isn’t now, doesn’t that show morality changes with time?

The point is that we don’t get to decide what is moral—God does, and we must submit to him and his law. His revelation to us is the only way we can know what is moral. You see, morality is grounded in the character of God, and God does not change (Hebrews 13:8). But this doesn’t mean rules or punishments can’t change.

The Old Testament, especially the Mosaic Law, seems to be a big stumbling block to younger generations because they aren’t receiving the instruction fundamental to understanding the redemptive history of the Old Testament and how it undergirds the person and work of Jesus. Therefore Christian leaders, pastors, teachers, and parents need to be careful that they’re teaching others how they should view the Old Testament and the Law as Christians under the New Covenant. Don’t avoid using the Old Testament—it forms the basis for our theology—but make sure your audience properly understands how to view it so they can grow in the knowledge of Christ (2 Peter 3:18) and in godliness.

— Ken Ham

[anonofseasons]

Hey!! Can you do 1 and 5 for Vivian and 8 for El?

Sure! 1. What is the character’s go-to drink order? Vivian doesn't drink liquor much. He might be persuaded to share a single glass of wine with his husband, but he learned early on that alcohol and magic--as a precaution--are better off not mixed. So he's a tea drinker instead. He mostly goes for herbal blends, but he likes matcha green tea too. As for the herbal stuff, there's always chamomile tea in the house. It helps the boys sleep, and Viv is partial to it. He also likes any citrus ones, like lemon and orange spice. 5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances?

Oooh, this is a good one and requires some thinking. Especially when Viv doesn't like to publicly cry and he holds back even in private. There is a point where he cries in a future chapter (a little bit), but before that? Hmmm... So Graham can get sick, and occasionally, he hasn't fared well. I imagine there was a point where he was bedridden years before the current events of the story--some illness that seemed worse than usual. It probably required antibiotics and allowing a doctor into the house. He cried at his husband's bedside and held his hand. He does love him, even if he's rubbish at showing it sometimes. 8. Describe the place where they sleep. This is such a cute thought, thank you for asking this one! El has a double bed. Graham designed it alongside El. It has been painted robin's egg blue! He has a quilt made of various white and pastel colors, most of his cotton and linen sheet sets are light blue or pink, and he has a few wool blankets that are either green or yellow. He sleeps with a polar bear. It's been through a few washings and isn't quite white anymore, and Vivian has had to add some patches where it is worn down. It is missing an eye (Viv gave it surgery so that it won't lose stuffing, although he did plump it up with more before mending it), and has a light blue eyepatch. His set of nightstands matches the bed, as does the dresser. He got the whole bedroom set custom made by his daddy, and Graham loves going the extra mile. The bookcase is painted to match, but it has a basic design because it is buried in books. The nightstands have matching lamps with blue bases and cream shades. He has a little wooden box he made--with a wood stain--that has a sliding lid, and he puts a cotton handkerchief in there for cleaning his glasses, which are also stored inside. It has silly little patterns engraved on it. Swirls and the like. His bookcase holds only his favorites. Everything else goes downstairs in the main library. Little trinkets he has collected over the years decorate the shelves in front of the books. That includes an ammonite fossil he collected, as well as little presents his family has made him. His rug is blues and cream with fractal patterns. He has a desk for reading and studying, and it's basic much like the bookshelf. It's fairly small. It has another lamp, this one silver with a blue lampshade. He has collected lots of little boxes to sort out his pens and pencils neatly inside the desk drawers. The chair that goes with it is also made by Graham, who went a bit fancier and painted it to match the room. It has an upholstered seat (blue) that has had to be patched a few times and also reupholstered entirely once. I keep imagining he has a few old stuffed animals on the bookshelf's top, along with a few on the dresser--places Beau can't reach, or he'd steal them. Most of them don't match any actual animals... For some reason, I imagine him as a small child, drawing his own weird monsters and Vivian making the plushies to match the images. El has a closet, unlike Howie and Beau, who both have wardrobes. (They had a choice, and both of them decided that small wardrobes packed with clothes couldn't possibly hold monsters, but closets? No thank you! They'll pass on the monster den.) El doesn't have anything under his bed, for that matter. The same cannot be said of his brothers. :')

[scriptflorist]

What are some of the more less known florist tools or something they'd be working with? I have a mystery story and would like to point to a connection with a by finding an object left at the scene that only the most observant useless knowledge hoarding investigator can identity it points towards a florist (as opposed to home care tools/gardener etc)? Or perhaps it could simply the type of wires or tapes? Might it help if I said broken or torn off stuff works fine as well.

A florist’s best friend are pruners and a pocket knife (like the floral knife Den mentions below!). Maybe a double set of pruners one for smaller stems and another that’s good for cutting larger branches and bigger stems like those of sunflowers but other than that there aren’t any sharp tools in use that could be found at a crime scene. Oddly enough this question makes me think of pin holders, albeit those are plastic and only meant to hold floral foam in place when put into its respective container. You may think there would be no reason for this to end up at the crime scene in your story so that your character can find it, however florists love to play kangaroo. I haven’t met a florist who didn’t have their pouches full of whatever they grabbed during their workday and forgot to put away. So there’s a very good chance your florist character grabbed one extra and just kept it in their pocket and then forgot about it. Same goes for pens, price tags, wires (the decorative kind), pins, extra knives and pruners, gloves… anything really might find their way into a florist’s pockets if given the chance. I also always carried tissues and wrist warmers. Very likely scissors, if they don’t rely on their knife half the time, maybe a pack of staplers.

Bottom line, if there’s a reason for your florist to work with it and it’s small enough, there’s a chance it’s in their pockets and there’s a chance it could have ended up at the crime scene for your detective to find.

That of course doesn’t narrow it down a lot, but the pin holders reminded me something I haven’t thought of in a long while. Ikebana. It’s a specific type of Japanese arrangement with exact rules and specifications, but also it’s very own type of… I tend to think of it as a needle type pin holder, but well it’s not. It’s an arrangement holder to be a little more exact and they’re call kenzan. A usually round metal plate with a whole bunch of needles attached, that make it look like a sort of needle pillow. It allows for very precise floral arrangement and is to my knowledge not used outside of Ikebana because of how the flowers are arranged. With other arrangements even with the use of floral foam they are centred around pivotal point and arranged diagonally in a circle fashion, while Ikebana required an upright arrangement of the stems, which is actually quite hard for florists to get accustomed to if they never practiced it.

This is not to say that the Ikebana needle pins cannot be used outside their intended purpose of the arrangement is so specific that it should require it. It simply isn’t something that florist who aren’t trained in the art would go for in their day-to-day work. And then of course it’s a matter of availability, I have never seen any place with more than one or two of kenzans, and it would be a piece that florists only rent and require their customers to bring back if they do end up using it.

Other than that, and this may sound odd but all florists I’ve ever known used the same two type of knives. For one those run-of-the-mill fruit knives that come in every colour (usually with a hole at the end of handle) but specifically those with a red handle and then the most basic pocket knife with the little swiss emblem – also by a majority in red. Of course they come in different colours as well. Mine’s light blue, but I’ve also seen them in pink, purple and yellow. And both versions are commonly referred to as florist knives. It’s also what google thinks florist knives are.

Florists tend to be attached to their personal pocket knives, and may have a habit of carrying them everywhere as to not lose them so easily. Albeit the fruit knives are a lot easier to replace then the pocket knives and florists also don’t tend to be as possessive about those. However the pocket knives also tend to have initials to tell them apart if the colour doesn’t do the trick. With that being said, most florists would recognize these knives on sight, initials or not.

Actually if your florist character lost their pocket knife at the crime scene and they think they can pull it off I could very well imagine them coming back for it. It’s a personal item potentially with sentimental value to some degree. There are technically also thorn strippers, but they’re unpopular with florists and a last resort if at all. So there is a negative chance that your florist character would lose those of all things at a crime scene. If this character loses a thorn stripper regardless it easily marks them as an amateur, hobbyist or someone very new to the industry. A well-trained florist who’s been doing their job for a while would rather use a knife or snap thorns off with their fingers. (Depends on personal preference, what someone has been taught, and quite often on how thorny the flower stems are).

– Mod Jana

I will say that, at least in college, we tended to use the Swiss Army budding knife as frequently as the floral knife.

(Budding knife: a folding pocket knife with red handle marked with the Swiss Army emblem near the folding end, slightly open showing a squarish blade with a beveled edge near the tip on the opposite side of the cutting edge.)

(Floral knife: a folding pocket knife with red handle marked with the Swiss Army emblem near the folding end, slightly open showing a single blade with the end rounded to taper toward the cutting edge.)

The odd bit on the opposite side of the cutting edge of the budding knife is used in other horticulture matters such as budding and grafting (hence the name) where you want to be able to peel back the outer layers of a plant stem without completely destroying it. We needed these for our propagation classes anyway, so it made sense to use them for the floral design classes as well. That thin, non-cutting bit is just really useful sometimes.

My professor also had a habit of keeping self addressed, stamped padded envelopes in his carry on luggage when he traveled because he would always forget to put his floral knife in the checked luggage and he didn’t want to lose his knives, so he’d drop it in the envelope and mail it back to himself. We get very attached to our favorite floral knives.

~*Mod Den*~

Disclaimer

This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Tᕼᗴ ᑕᕼᗩOTIᑕ ᗩᑎᘜᗴᒪ

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Chapter 3: Au Revoir Gotham My True Home

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Marinette explained what happened and that she didn't mean to cause trouble, she didn't know why the bats were looking for her (author to audience... it's because she looks like one of his bat kids gone rouge.) When she asked how they knew the Bat was looking for her, she found out that Selina was actually dating the Bat... So Marinette was very surprised at that, her family talked about it and a few days after her birthday she'll be going to Paris, France with Selina to be with a family friend of hers. Marinette was now really thinking she was cursed, but she made sure to take it in stride and spend as much time with her friends and family as possible.

"Doan wawhry suguh, we'll make sure tuh visit as much as possible, yuh can even visit us durin' summuh and wintuh break." - Harley held back the tears as she hugged Marinette, Bud, Lou, Ivy, Selina, Ed and even Frank joined in on it.

……… ………

Marinette was out with her friends still not sure how to tell them, she started with the obvious.

"Sooo... tomorrow I turn 10... the double digits." - Marinette

"Soon you'll be one of us!" - Garfield gave Marinette a side hug with a big smile, god he made it harder to tell them

"So what do you want to do? We can celebrate, tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that, heck we can celebrate for the whole week while we're at it!" - Garfield

Rachel noticed the sad smile Marinette had as Garfield continued talking.

"Is there something you need to tell us?" - Rachel's words stoped Garfield in his tracks, he then looked at a slightly teary Marinette, and he felt a slight tinge of pain in his chest.

"I- um, I'm moving this Saturday... I'm sorry I really don't want to, but- *hic* I-" - Marinette was cut off by Garfield giving her a hug, he rubbed small circles on her back as she let out a few sobs. Rachel patting her shoulder to try and comfort her.

After they were like that for a few minutes, they decided to get ice cream

……… ……… ………

"I'm sorry." - Marinette eating her chocolate chip ice cream

"It's not your fault Mari, besides, we can officially say we have a pen pal in Paris." - Garfield with his chocolate mint ice cream trying to lighten the mood, managed to get a chuckle out of Marinette.

"We can still video call, or text you. And your parents said you can visit on summer and winter break." - Rachel just starting her strawberry ice cream

"But what if I need a friend to talk to when I can't sleep? Or if I need a movie buddy? Or gaming buddy?" - Marinette

"There are online multiplayer games we can play you know." - Rachel

"Yeah, and I'm sure you'll make friends over there really quickly, I mean you already know a few other languages, including French, so there isn't any communication problems." - Garfield

"I wish you guys could come with me..." - Marinette almost done with her ice cream

"... Didn't you say you always wanted a hamster, maybe one that's unique, like a the rare Green Gotham Hamster?" - Garfield with a mischievous grin

"Selina's family friends own a bakery, so no pets allowed. Sorry Rare Green Gotham Hamster, I'm afraid you're staying native to Gotham." - Marinette said patting his shoulder.

"Wait they own a bakery?! As in you can be on a sugar high 24/7?! Take me with you!!" - Garfield

……… ……… ………

Soon it was time for them to go home, when Marinette got home, she continued packing what she would need, making sure that her Siren plushies where safely secure, and then went to eat dinner.

The next day she made sure to get up early, Garfield and Rachel knew where she lived, and wanted to make sure everything was ready for them, setting up the games they would play into the night, and the movies they would watch after that.

She then went to the Gardens to greet her Mom and the plants, doing the usual routine of checking all the plants, complimenting and watering them. During which a sleepy Harley walked over giving Ivy and Marinette a morning kiss before going to make her coffee.

At breakfast she didn't see her Aunt yet, she assumed she was robbing someone rich again.

……… Over to Catwoman ………

"Come ta mama." - Catwoman mumbled as she used her claws to cut the glass surrounding an old elegant purple sapphire that belonged to one of Gotham's founding fathers' wives.

……… Back to Marinette ………

About an hour after breakfast Garfield and Rachel came over, holding Marinettes' rapped presents, they started the day off with trivia games, which they called the MIQ (which can mean either Marinette Isley-Quinzel or in this case Memory Intelligence Quiz) which Marinette and Rachel came to a tie followed by Ivy, then Harley, and Garfield. They then moved on to board games, Marinette decided to play The Game of Life rather than Monopoly (because lets be honest, who has ever finished that game in the time of a signle day? An extreme speedrunner... maybe.) while the adults got the cake ready. Surprisingly Garfield won, he got the acting career, a sports car, a nice old fashioned mid modern house, a wife, and 3 kids... Marinette got the fashion designer career, got a motorcycle, and a small, but nice victorian house, a husband, and one kid... and Rachel got the scientist career (because science is just simplified mortal magic), a delorean car (and even said "Since science is magic I can make it fly, so technically, I don't need roads where I'm going."), a modern cabin in the woods, single (she didn't want a significant other to interrupt her magic science) and got a pet bird.

Once Selina and Ed came over, they began the party, playing games like DDR, Ultimate Mecha Strike 2, and Racing games.

When it came time for Marinette to blow out her candles, she wished that everything would be okay, and that she will be able to come back to Gotham permanently, and blew them out.

She then got to open her presents, she started with Harley's, and got a custom baseball bat that was a dark steel blue, with a light grey handle grip, and it had the words "Quinn For Da Win" on it, putting a smile on her face, when she opened Ivy's gift she got seeds of her favorite flowers to plant over in Paris. She then opened her Uncle Ed's gift, which was a small watch that had special A.I., it had a cover over the inside screen that would flip open to reveal another screen. The cover was silver with a blue question mark, and when it opened, it showed the time, and the location you where in, it could also act as a GPS, and a phone (it could even play music AND had an incredible battery life span). She then moved on to her Aunt Selina's gift, finding a small purple sapphire in the shape of a cat paw, surrounded in silver. She then opened Rachel's gift, it was a travel mug that said "Coffee lives in my veins." (Marinette started drinking coffee recently) which made Marinette laugh, and then she got to Garfield's gift. When she opened it, she found a handmade charm bracelet, it had animals that she really liked around it, and there was one that was a small tiger, with it's eyes and nose having a light green peridot stone, to represent the first day they met. She put the bracelet on her right rist and thanked Garfield for it, and gave everyone a big hug.

She spent the rest of the day playing with her friends, having a wonderful time, and getting a massive sugar rush from all the cake they had. When it came time for dinner they were running low on energy, but were back to normal after Harley snuck some coffee into their food... The only thoughts that went through Garfield and Rachel's minds where "That's why Mari drinks this stuff..."

After dinner they played all kinds of video games, and ended it by watching Back To The Future. They fell asleep some time after 2am.

……… ……… …….

The next morning they all had breakfast and then spent the day playing parkour tag over roofs and playing I spy games. And at the end of the day Marinette gave her friends a big hug, before heading back home. She spent her time with her moms, Uncle, and Frank, playing more boardgames and discussing what she should do to make friends...

"Just be yawhself, we love yuh fawh who yuh are, and I'm sure everyone in Paris will love yuh too... if dey doan, den dey most likely have a massive defective reject of a brain." - Was Harley's opinion

"Riddle the f-ck out of their brain, if they can solve all of them, and like you for you, then they are worthy." - Which was Ed's opinion

"Use a chemical based compound from the magnolia flower, combined with three tulip petals, one rose petal, and pollen from a lilac to create a befriending potion." - Ivy's words made everyone silent before Ed spoke up

"... Harley if you're being mind controlled blink." - Ed deadpaned, which had Marinette cackling

"I'm not bein' mind controlled, also yuh nawhmally say ‘blink once or twice’ not just ‘blink’ I could blink at any random interval and yuh woun't know what tuh tink, and here I thoughtcha were a genius." - Harley with her head on Ivy's lap as Marinette starts wheezing.

"I think y'all broke her." - Frank just pointed to Marinette as she was still cackling and wheezing while in the fetal position.

That's when Selina walked in...

"What the hell did you guys do to Kitten?!" - Selina dropping the bags she got from some high end shop, and after they made sure Marinette was still alive they continued their game... and Marinette may have actually written the list of ingredients for that position, but only as a last resort. When it was time for them to sleep Marinette spent the night with her moms, like she use to when she was 4.

She got up early to make sure everything was ready, she had her sketch book in her backpack, as well as some pencils, ear buds, snacks and a picture of her with her family and friends. She decided to wear her new watch and charm bracelet as she finished checking her bag, she then went into the garden to say goodbye to all the plants, and to give Bud, Lou and Frank one last goodbye. She had about 3 hours before her and her Aunt were to head to the airport, and she spent that time with her moms, almost never leaving their side.

……… ……… …….

As the plane took off she looked out the airplane window, saying goodbye to Gotham, until her next visit home....

•—–·★·–—•

Chapter 3 complete, also just in case I didn't describe her B-day gifts good enough, here's what they look like (꒪꒳꒪)

Hope you're all having an amazing day, staying safe and rockin' all positive vibes,!BUG-OUT! 💮🐞💮

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Tag List〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

1st Place★: @jumpingjoy82

2nd Place★: @myazael

3rd Place★: @solangelo252

@fandom-trapped-03, @zorua-adorable, @blueblossombliss, @thefangirlwholiterallydies, @woe-is-me0, @lady-bee-fechin, @jayjayspixiepop, @kashlyn, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @buginetye, @our-preciousss , @vroomtaka, @alessialeone6997

[kreatttivideen]

10 personalisierte Geschenke, die sich von der Masse abheben, vom eigenen Lichtschwert bis zum Portrat ihres Haustieres

Obwohl wir möchten, dass sich jedes Geschenk so anfühlt, als käme es von Herzen, fühlt es sich umso besonderer an, mit einem personalisierten Geschenk noch einen Schritt weiter zu gehen. Personalisierung spiegelt nicht nur die Interessen oder Erinnerungen eines Beschenkten wider; es bezieht sie in das Geschenk ein und ermöglicht es ihnen, es auf eine ganz neue Art und Weise zu erfahren.

Scrollen Sie weiter für über 30 personalisierte Auswahlen, darunter eine Kerze, die nach ihrer Heimatstadt thematisiert ist, eine einzigartige Schreibmaschinenschlüssel-Halskette und eine luxuriöse Robe mit Monogramm.

Eine Kerze, die wie ihre Lieblingsstadt oder Heimatstadt duftet

City Scented Candle, erhältlich bei Homesick, Macy's und Barnes & Noble, ab 30,40 $

Egal, ob sie aus Boston, Seattle oder irgendwo dazwischen kommen, diese nach Stadt duftende Kerze fängt die Essenz von Zuhause ein. San Francisco ist Kaffee, Schokolade und ein Spaziergang entlang der Küste, während Philly Heliotrop, frische Luft und einen Schritt in eine örtliche Bäckerei ist. Egal aus welcher Stadt sie kommen, es riecht nach dem Gesamtpaket!

Ein personalisierter Song auf Bestellung

Auf Bestellung gefertigtes personalisiertes Lied, erhältlich bei Uncommon Goods, ab 100 $

Suchen Sie nach der wirkungsvollsten Möglichkeit, ihnen zu sagen, dass Sie sich wirklich interessieren? Der Musiker David Morgan kann Ihre Anekdoten in ein- bis dreiminütige Meisterwerke verwandeln. Das Ergebnis: Eine gemeinsam nutzbare MP3-Audiodatei und eine Kopie Ihres ganz eigenen Liedtextes.

Ein Rubbelposter, um die Filme zu präsentieren, die sie gesehen haben

Ultimate Movie-Lovers Fill-In Poster, erhältlich bei Uncommon Goods, 40 $

Für Filmfans und diejenigen, die eine ständig wachsende Liste auf Netflix haben, bietet dieses Ausfüllposter 1.500 sehenswerte Filme in jedem Genre zum Ansehen und Abgeben einer (manchmal brutalen) Bewertung. Betrachten Sie es als eine persönliche Kino-Checkliste, die an ihrer Wand hängend ziemlich cool aussehen würde.

Ein Maßanzug

Gift Card, available at Indochino, from $50

Nothing feels quite as bespoke as a custom-made suit. The startup Indochino makes that gift a bit more achievable and a lot less expensive. 

A personalized take on a classic roller ball pen

Personalisierter Bolt Action Pen, erhältlich bei Etsy, ab 39,99 $

Für Familienkünstler und Freunde, die gerne kritzeln, wird dieser handgefertigte Stift ihre künstlerischen Bemühungen mit ihrem Namen auf der Seite zu neuen Höhen führen. Dieser Stift ist aus nahezu unzerbrechlichem massivem Messing in einer greifbaren sechseckigen Form gefertigt und wird sich von den anderen in seinem Angebot abheben.

Eine einzigartige, von einer Schreibmaschine inspirierte Halskette

Typewriter Key Necklace, erhältlich bei Uncommon Goods, 70 $

Zeigen Sie Ihren Schreibfreunden, dass Sie sich um sie kümmern, mit dieser skurrilen Halskette, die mit einem authentischen Schreibmaschinenschlüssel aus den 20er, 30er oder 40er Jahren bespannt ist. Dieser Anhänger ist mit dem Buchstaben ihres Vornamens (oder Pseudonyms) eingraviert und ein lustiges, aber stattliches Accessoire, das ein bisschen Geschichte trägt.

Eine tragbare Nachbildung des Gesichts ihres Haustieres

Custom Pet Embroidered Sweatshirt, erhältlich bei Uncommon Goods, ab 135 $

Diese ultra-bequemen Rundhalsausschnitte werden durch handgezeichnete, gestickte Porträts ihrer pelzigen Freunde aufgewertet. Egal, ob sie in der Stadt unterwegs sind oder zu Hause mit ihrem besten Tierfreund kuscheln, dieses tragbare Kunstwerk ist eine Hommage an ihren vielbeinigen Kumpel – und vertrauen Sie uns, diese Hundemütter und Katzenväter werden in Stich gelassen!

Ein benutzerdefiniertes "Star Wars"-Lichtschwert

Custom Sabre, erhältlich bei SaberForge, ab 69,99 $

Wenn Ihre besondere Person eine Vorliebe für alle Dinge von „Star Wars“ hat, ist dieser maßgefertigte Säbel perfekt zum Präsentieren oder Spielen. Stöbern Sie in über 100 verschiedenen Säbeln aus sieben Kategorien, drei Marken und vielen Zubehörteilen und Farben, die zu ihrer persönlichen Ästhetik passen. Ob Jedi oder Sith, sie werden sich in einer weit, weit entfernten Galaxie wie zu Hause fühlen.

Ein Bestseller mit Monogramm

Chambers Hydrocotton Bademantel, erhältlich bei Williams Sonoma, $ 109

Was ist persönlicher(isierter) als eine tragbare Decke? Dieser leichte, superweiche Chambers Hydrocotton-Bademantel ist für alle Geschlechter geeignet und aus feinster, langstapeliger türkischer Baumwolle gefertigt. Flauschig, saugfähig und mit einem edlen Monogramm versehen, ist dieser Bademantel wirklich das Gesamtpaket.

Ein nostalgisches Armband

Kundenspezifisches Multi-Disc-Pisa-Armband, erhältlich bei BaubleBar, 40 $

Dieses benutzerdefinierte Perlenarmband kann einen Namen oder eine Phrase in einem Regenbogen von Farben buchstabieren. Kombinieren Sie es mit anderen Armbändern für einen stylischen 90er-Look.

[crashdevlin]

Another Second Chance 18- Therapy

Another Second Chance Masterlist, Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist

Author’s Note: The final (hopefully) installment of the Happily Ever Eventually RPF series.

Summary: Y/n finds herself a new house and Misha is determined to make it a huge project.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word count: 2993

Story Warnings: past cheating, mentions of FFM threesome, not much in this one

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

“It’s pretty, right?” I ask, looking around the open concept of the first floor of this $350,000 house.

“Kitchen’s kinda outdated,” Jensen says, pointing at the fridge. “I mean, that fridge has gotta be from when you were in high school.”

“I could buy new appliances, Jay. Get a natural gas stove set up. Install some cabinet pulls, because I’m not a really big fan of this whole lack of elements.” I gesture at the cabinets. “Probably stain it a little darker to go against the flooring. But it’s pretty, right?”

Jay smiles. “Yeah. It’s pretty...and it’s about twice as big as the one you’ve been living in. Which is what you need.”

“Yeah. Walk-in closet in the master, too. It’ll be a good place to put the security hub.”

“Or you could put the security hub in the closet in the den and put your clothes in the master closet,” Jay suggests, grumpy old man in his tone. "And if you're gonna update the kitchen, you gotta update the bathrooms. Get one of those-"

"I am not getting an automatic toilet!" I laugh. "No one needs that!"

"Of course no one needs it but it's freakin' awesome!"

"Okay, Dean," I tease.

"Dean would agree with me. Automatic toilet, with the bidet and the-"

"Dean Winchester would break an automatic toilet and then complain that it's a damn computer which means he can't fix it without help."

Jay laughs. "He'd still think it was cool."

"He'd be down for the heated seat. I will give you that much."

He smiles as he looks around. "So...are we looking at your new digs or what?"

I bite my bottom lip and run my hand over the granite countertop. “Shouldn’t I ask Nova's opinion? It's gonna be her home, too."

"She's a teenager. As long as she's got her own room, I'm sure she's gonna be fine." He sets his hands on my shoulders and smiles. "But you can show her pictures or bring her by before you sit down with the realtor."

I nod and smile. "It's in the right school district and a bigger room for her and for Mav and the bonus room can be an office. I really think it's the place."

"Then get it," he encourages. "Get it, Baby Girl. We can make it perfect. I'm no stranger to a little reno."

"Please," I start, laughing. "A contractor did the work on your old place. Shush."

He looks a little offended. "I helped. I painted. I installed the sink in the half bath off the kitchen."

"Fine. You can stain these cabinets for me." I wink and step away from him. I'm gonna get this house. "Come on." I walk to the foyer where the realtor is waiting and I smile at him. "Can I put in an offer now or should I wait a few hours?" He smiles brighter than the sun.

"You can make an offer anytime, Miss."

Miss. Still young enough to get 'miss'. "Good. Let's do this."

~~~~~~~~~

"Four bedroom, 2 and a half bath, 3200 square feet with an office next to the master bed. It needs some updating and work...had a contractor quote me $60,000 but that's not bad...covers new appliances, too."

"I could come down and help," Misha offers. "You know, a lot of that stuff you can DIY and I can help with most of it."

"You don't have to do that, Meesh."

"Why would I let you spend that much money on something I could help you with for a fraction of the cost?"

"Misha, you really don’t-"

"I'm not letting you tell me 'no' on this. We'll get together some manpower and get this done for you."

He's really not going to let me say 'no'. "Okay. Well, it's going to be several weeks before the paperwork is finished and all that. I'll let you know when it's mine."

"Good. I'll start looking at HGTV.com." Damn it, Misha. Don't be so extra. "And send me pictures and a floorplan so I know what I'm working with."

"Yeah, okay." Really no point in arguing. It's Misha. If I don't send him pics and a copy of the floorplan, he'll just find the house and get them himself off the internet. "I'll send it to you after my appointment tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good. Talk to you then."

"Bye, Meesh." I hang up and sigh. He's gonna make it this whole thing, isn't he?

His house in Washington did come out amazing, though, so he does have some skills that will help in this. Eh, why not? Why not get together with my best friend and make my new home my own?

"So, I get to see this house eventually, right?" Nova says, walking into the living room.

I smile. "Come see all these pretty pictures I took and we can speculate on what craziness Misha is gonna come up with." I pat the couch next to me and she comes over. "This is the view from the street." I start showing her the pictures and she claims a room before I've even finished the digital tour.

"Oh, and you're gonna paint the exterior, right? Like, it's pretty but it's yellow. You're gonna fix that, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure Misha isn't going to let me move into another drab house. You weren’t here the first time he showed up at this house but he had opinions about all of it. I didn't let him talk me into reno last time but this time...I don’t know...maybe this will be the forever home so…"

"It's gotta be custom!" Nova exclaims.

"Exactly."

"Can I paint my walls custom? Or get custom wallpaper done? I know that a lot of people don't like wallpaper but I've seen a few places that got it right and-"

"Yeah, baby, of course. We'll figure out something awesome for your walls." I kiss her forehead. We'll do whatever she wants for her room.

"Yay!"

I love when she's happy.

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

It's been a while since I've been in Dr. McCauliffe's office. Life has been in the way...and I guess I didn’t want her to judge me for my involvement with Jensen...which is ridiculous because she's my therapist. She's not going to judge me.

"So." She taps her pen against her clipboard. "What's new?"

"Well...I have been dating Jensen again. I know you saw that in the news."

"I saw it on Mr. Collins' Instagram, actually," she says with a smile.

"Right. The video. Forgot about it for a minute. Um, yeah, like I said in the video and Jensen said in his...spark's still there, we're giving it another chance."

"How's that feel?"

I bite my bottom lip. "Scary as Hell, honestly. I mean, but it's good. I've done pretty good with boundaries and moving slowly. You know, before...we jumped in head first and everything was this intense passion right out of the gate but this time…" I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe we've grown up, or grown old, but…"

"Have you slept with him?" she asks and it's because she knows that sex was a big issue when I was with him before. Sex was all we were supposed to be in the beginning and sex ruined us in the end. I know why she's asking but there's this...well, it's a bit intrusive, isn't it? It seems like she's judging me for being sexually active and I know that's not what it is but my whole spine goes tense when she asks.

"Yes. We dated for about a month before we started getting physical again."

“And how has that been? I don’t need details, of course, but...emotionally, how has it been to be intimate with Jensen again?”

How to answer that?

Really, how am I supposed to answer that? It’s the best sex I’ve ever had, emotionally fullfilling in a romance-novel sort of way. It’s perfect but it does have its scary moments. “Well, we’ve only actually...slept together a couple times this time. His libido is a lot less than it was. I mean, he didn’t have sex the entire time we were broken up, can you believe that?”

Dr. McCauliffe adjusts her glasses and shrugs a little. “I do not. Five years is a long time to go without sex...but you seem to believe it. That’s what matters.”

I never even questioned it. Should I have? No, because he’s been so honest about everything else. “I went years and years without sex after Nate. I believe Jensen did the same after me. He had a lot going on. He was in recovery for alcoholism. He had to be a good father and work on his career and-”

“You just got very defensive, very quickly. Why is that?”

Fuck, I don’t know. I run my hand over my mouth and shrug. “I don’t know,” I respond honestly.

“Analyze it, Y/n. Why would you get so defensive over my disbelief in what Jensen told you?”

“Because I didn’t question it,” I answer after a moment. “Because he told me that the last time he had sex, real full-penetrative sex, was the time that broke us and I didn’t really question it. I took it at face value because we’ve been doing very good about honesty with each other and what if that’s stupid? What if I’m stupid because maybe he’s lying about it and keeping stuff from me and-”

“You said he’s been very good about honesty so far, right?”

I nod. “Yeah. He’s...he admitted to stuff that I never thought he’d admit to and he apologized for stuff and he’s been open about what happened and why. He’s even been honest about little things that he would have lied about before...like I told him about Will and he Googled him. Used to be, he’d keep that kind of thing to himself, never tell me, but he admitted it without even prompting.” I chew on my bottom lip as she starts scribbling on her notes. “I believe him. It might be stupid but I believe him.”

She sets her clipboard in her lap and smiles at me. “It’s not stupid...and he’s likely changed enough that honesty is important to him. You’ve told me that his recovery has changed him. Jared’s told me the same. Now, it’s a bit hard for me to believe that he’s changed so much in the last five years that he would have abstained from sex since the last time he was with you, but...I don’t know the man, do I? You do. Jared does. If you believe him, then don’t let me change your mind.”

“I believe him. You didn’t see the way he looked at me the first time we...‘Reverent’ is the best word for it.”

“What do you think that means for you?”

I scoot back, leaning against the back of the couch. “I think he’s finally got Danneel out of his head.”

“Do you?” she asks and I hate when she asks things I don’t want to answer. “Danneel was a major roadblock in your relationship before, wasn’t she?”

“You know she was. I was so focused on giving Jensen what he wanted...Danneel...that I couldn’t see that I was what he was supposed to be wanting. I wanted to be like her, couldn’t appreciate myself. I know this stuff, Doctor.” I shift on the couch and sigh. “I don’t wanna be Danneel and I don’t want Jensen to be with her. I want Jensen to be with me...I want him to want to be with only me.” I shrug. “Seems like that’s where we are. He doesn’t even talk to her anymore. I talked to her the other day and she didn’t even know why he doesn’t talk to her anymore.”

“You talked to Danneel again?”

“Yeah. We ran into each other at a shop while I was getting Nova a new dress. It...didn’t go well. Nova was very combative with Danneel. I ended up having to...be very honest with my daughter. She knows about everything now...even the night with Danneel.”

“Oh? How’d that talk go?”

“It was...it was good to get it off my chest, actually. It was like the conversation where I told her about, about why her father and I got divorced. It’s like...It was a hard conversation but it was an important one. I don’t have to...hide things anymore and that’s a blessing. She understands why I make the decisions I make now...she understands...the betrayal was a lot deeper than she even knew. She understands that now and...maybe it’ll make us closer, but at least she knows the truth now.”

“And she’s living with you now, right?” I nod. “How did that happen? Nathan doesn’t seem the type to just allow her to do what she wants.”

I snort. “He’s definitely not, but...he fucked up with Jenny, blew up his marriage. I’m actually surprised it took her this long to realize that he was cheating on her, but whatever. Um...Nova didn’t want to be there for the destruction of his way of life and she asked if she could come to Texas. I convinced him to let her come because she didn’t need to see the parade of his affairs that Jenny would bring up. I then used those women to convince him not to fight me on custody when I refiled. It was…” I scratch at my cheek. “It was a low move, but it’s exactly the kind of move he pulled on me, convincing the judge that I was too unstable to care for her. I don’t feel bad about it, especially since she wants to be here.”

“That’s a big change...on top of other big changes.”

“Yep...and there’s more coming. Because I need more room since Nova is living with me, there will be a new home in my future."

"A new home? That's exciting."

"It is. And I am more excited about it than I am scared so that says something."

"I remember how anxious you were about your first house. I remember all the security options you went through."

"Well, security had to be heavy. I had to think about Tom and his crazy-ass fans and the crazier of Jensen’s fans and the paps. There was that one photographer in Vancouver that climbed the balcony outside the condo to get pics of me and Jay, remember?" I shiver at the memory of looking out the French doors to see a man with his camera, snapping away. So intrusive. "I'm gonna have to put up a privacy fence and a coded gate at the new place, too...and, of course, all the security cameras."

"Sounds like a big project."

"Yeah. Definitely. Not even half of it, though. Misha wants to DIY everything."

"Misha isn't your husband, Y/n," Dr. McCauliffe reminds me and I laugh.

"I think he forgets that sometimes. But there's not a lot of use in arguing with him. He's...well, he's right a lot. Like, most of the time, I mean. So, I always cave to him."

"Do you want to do a big DIY project at this new house?"

"Not at first, I didn't but...I dunno. Might be fun. I've never gotten to do that kind of project and knowing Misha, he's gonna make it fun even if it is hard work."

"Well, as long as you can maintain your work as well as this project. How is that coming along?"

"Really good, actually. We started shooting not too long ago...and I hadn't even considered that this project might be detrimental to Midsummer. I'll have to make sure that Misha knows that Midsummer comes first."

"Well, it seems like you've got things under control."

"Yeah? I was afraid you'd tell me I was...going too fast or…"

"Do you think that? You were telling me that you'd done well with boundaries and keeping things-"

"Well, I have! I mean, Jensen was talking about moving in together already and I shut that down and decided to get a bigger place...my own bigger place."

"Jensen wanted to move in with you?" She writes down something on her notes. "And you said 'no'?"

"I said 'no'," I confirm. "I was really proud of myself, Doc. Nova was proud of me, too, actually. Which was...it was interesting and new. I don’t know that she's ever been proud of me for anything and I know that it's supposed to be the other way, where I'm proud of her and I am, of course but Nova being proud of me setting these boundaries and sticking to them...it gives me hope that she'll be able to do the same in her own life, you know?"

"There's nothing wrong with feeling happy that you made your daughter proud and there's nothing wrong with hoping she's going to make different mistakes than you. She's going to do well in life if you keep making the best choices for the both of you." She sets her clipboard on her desk and smiles. "I'm proud of you, too, by the way. Six years ago, you would have jumped at living with Jensen."

"Six years ago, I did."

We finish out our session with a promise to not go so long without seeing her next time. "Mental health is about the maintenance," she reminds me as she opens her office door and walks me to the reception desk. I agree and set an appointment for six weeks out. I call Misha as I start my car, intending to tell him that Midsummer comes before the house project. I haven't even gotten a 'hello' out of my mouth when he speaks.

"I saw the pictures you sent. I have so many ideas!"

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

[read-weep-repeat]

Sorry it’s me again with more questions about the dragon au 😓😂

Would the guys be fully aware and integrated with human life? Would they know what ice cream is for example or could they go to eat it and then growl at the feeling of it on their teeth and freak out because of a brain freeze? 😂 Orr would they know everything and have to make sure that their little baby does eat too much of it have a sugar rush then crash?



Don’t worry!! I love getting asks, especially about dragon au. I’m super excited for it!!

So in the dragon au the boys are idols, they’re fully integrated into human society and understand it.

They would definitely know what ice cream is, and snatch it out of MCs hands when shes about to push herself into a Brain freeze but Doesn’t care cause “it’s so good daddy! Just one more!!”

Also just some thought dumps cause why not

The boys have to go on tour for a month or two, or even just for a few weeks while they promote a new album. They decide to get mc a going away present so that it’s not as hard on her. 7 customized dragon stuffies that are as close to each of them as possible. Their exact scale color, the dimensions of their wings, exact length of their talons, everything as close as possible to them so that she can feel like she’s holding a mini them while theyre away.

Alternatively, mc bringing home a dragon stuffie, saying it’s so that she doesn’t miss them as much, and they just start bawling their eyes out cause it’s so cute and they feel horrible for having to leave her.

Also them trying to get her to roar in little space! teasing her when it’s a tiny little rawr and she giggles as it comes out so soft and sweet. Then they start showing off, letting out roars that make the den shake, and make her giggle some more as fire shoots from their mouths.

And maybe them calling her their little dragon 🥺, and them training her to recognize each of them while in little space. She can do it while she’s big with no problem, immediately being able to tell who everyone is, but in little space she has some trouble with it.

They point at one of them while he’s shifted and make her say who it is, like “purple?? Who is that??” And she gets all happy when the dragon sniffs her, letting out smoke in the shape of a heart after he does. “That’s tae!!” “Good job!!”

Putting her in little space while they’re shifted by rubbing her soothingly with their talons, purring happily when she does something that only little girls do, and the head butting from her computer and into the playpen.

I can see one of the older ones, who’s less energetic doing the head butting, trying to communicate that he wants to nap with his baby by lightly pushing her in and snapping it shut with a talon. Most likely yoongi would do this, snaking himself around it and making sure one of his eyes is next to the pen so that he can just lazily open an eye to see her laid out on her mat and dozing away.

Alsoooo the boys making a nest in dragon form, and she comes home all surprised to see them working away, only for them to immediately scoop her up in their talons and plop her in the middle of it. They carefully pick up her little space items and drop them in the nest too, trying to tell her that they need their little baby dragon tonight.

she gurgles around a pacifier as the boys make a cocoon around the nest, the soft rumbling of their chests keeping her asleep while they all look down on her, just so happy that they finally have their last mate, and that’s she absolutely perfect for them.

(I totally think they’d purr, just that the purrs might shake the den)

[heli0s-writes]

Ugly Christmas Sweater Party

Summary: Bucky (sort of) agrees to wear an ugly Christmas sweater, but what he ends up wearing is much worse. This is for @holy-captain‘s 1.2k writing challenge! Congratulations, Liv and thank you for hosting! I’m so sorry it’s late!! 

Pairing: Exasperated!Bucky x ChaoticDumbass!Reader

Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 1.8k

It’s supposed to be a fun and light-hearted thing—a season full of shiny-glowing-fantastic-twinkling excitement and ruddy red noses and misty breath in the chilled air. A season of joy and celebration, of spiked eggnog, fuzzy striped socks, and sliding down the compound hillsides on Steve’s shield.

And he’s screwed it all up.

It sinks in like the swollen marshmallows in his now cold cocoa, drooping to the bottom where the rest of the sediments lie. Outside, snowflakes gust and whip, blanketing the pine trees and skeletons of shrubbery in white flurries. Red holly berries peek out where they can and glare at him with their crimson eyes.

His phone lights up with picture messages of Steve and Sam, hurriedly trying on a cluster of sweaters in preparation. Horrid renderings of cats on ornaments. Oversized slouchy sleeves flecked with tinsel. Santa’s dreadful ass-crack peeking out of a chimney.

Bucky grumbles and turns his phone face-down, leaning back in his chair to stare at the Christmas tree in the corner. He wants to scream and put his leg through the damn thing.

Soft footsteps draw his attention to the hallway when you emerge, blinking slowly as you stifle a yawn from behind your hand until you see him. Then, you scoff and disappear back down the hall.

“Wait!” Bucky calls, leaping from his seat and nearly knocking the tepid mug from the table, “Damn it, wait!”

You’re gone. Stomped back to your room and even if he starts running now, he wouldn’t be quick enough—only getting the slamming door on his nose. He’ll try anyway.

Bucky slumps against the panel, pushing his chest against the cold metal of it and his cheek until his words come out smushed into his teeth.

“C’mon!” A pathetic whine of your name before he sticks his fingers underneath the slit of the door like a cat, wiggling the bent tip back and forth. Incredible. The Winter Soldier sprawled out all over a corridor, begging for forgiveness over this.

Only silence replies; you’re probably on the bed, thinking about scratching his eyes out. He can practically see you flicking him off with both hands. You’ve never been this upset before, and it deeply troubles him considering the dynamic of your very friendship spun on the axis of one single truth: Bucky’s the annoyed one. You’re the fuck up.

And now he has no idea what to do.

One week of it and he’s completely lost; the start of it all—December 1st when Tony announced: Ugly. Christmas. Sweater. Party.

Two days before Christmas, the team will be gathering in the common area for a white elephant gift exchange, and sweaters will be judged based on ugliness. What a stupid idea.

The winner will be awarded with “no team meetings for a month” and Tony’s personal stash of bourbon as long as no one touches his whiskey.

Upon the proclamation, you had clapped your hands together and grinned, “We’re gonna win this damn thing.”

And Bucky, being regular Bucky who ignores your half-witted ideas and short-sighted fixations, muttered, “Whatever,” and went back to thinking normal-person thoughts.

For the next several weeks, you dove into your knitting, the needles clicking together faster than he’s ever seen, weaving sparkling black and bright cherry red. The rows were tightly bound, looped and coiled expertly until he could finally make out the shape on the front of it.

He really did love your sick sense of humor—although he’d never admit it—funny, twisted, always brought him a bit of joy.

“Fuck no,” he had laughed at the image of a mutilated deer, antlers dangling silver ornaments showcasing his sigil. “I am not fuckin’ puttin’ that on. It looks like hell.”

“You agreed!” And then the needles and yarn hit him right in the nose.

On your way out, a low chuckle came from the corner of the living room where Steve sat sipping a cup of steaming chai. “You know Christmas is her favorite holiday?”

A snorting laugh bubbled the surface of Steve’s tea, “Good goin’, Buck.”

-

“Last Christmas” is on, blaring synth beats through the halls. George Michael croons sweetly, longingly, grieving an unrequited love before jingle bells ring in the scattered percussion.

Bucky hears your voice as you carol along to possibly the cheesiest song of all time—infuriated and baffled that you won’t speak more than two words to him but will sing your heart out to this crap. George Michael, Wham! and all of England can eat his whole ass.

He trudges from his room and into the den where the lights are dimmed and the table is set with snacks and a crock pot of hot chocolate. A dish of pine cones sits in the middle, flanked by a merry snowy village filled with little ceramic teddy bears and reindeer. On the edge is a deflated Santa Hat filled with paper scraps and pens for the voting process at the end of the night.

It is seven-thirty and you are standing next to Sam with bent elbows, wiggling your hips to the chorus, sliding back and forth on the polished floor in fuzzy socks. The two of you are facing the window, pointing at the flurry and a mountain of sludge that was previously a horrid misshapen lump of Snowman Steve.

Bucky squints a little, alert when he sees two matching sweaters—black on the back. Hell no, he thinks.

Sam turns around and Bucky’s worst holiday fears are confirmed. One innocuous “Oh hey, man,” and all the warmth drains from him.

On Wilson’s chest is that terrible disfigured deer you constructed, its antlers spearing out from its head to reach all the way up to his shoulders.

Bucky flies across the room and before either you or Sam can do anything about it, he’s peeling the hem of it over Sam’s head, kneeing him in the groin, and taking him down onto the floor. “What the hell!” Sam yells, struggling to get out of his grasp. “Shit—get off—Barnes!”

“A red star isn’t even your fucking symbol!” His hair is in his eyes along with Sam’s elbow, their limbs and joints knocking into each other in the wrestling bout. The sleeves and front are being stretched terribly, but neither of them seem to notice.

“Hey,” Your calm voice calls from above them—falling on four deaf ears. “Hey,” You try again, and when it doesn’t seem like two grown men can stop aggressively fondling each other over a damn pullover, you raise your hand and decisively land it across the back of Bucky’s head in a deafening crack.

A swell of multiple shocked gasps rises from behind you and when Sam and Bucky freeze, they see the rest of the compound’s inhabitants staring at the scene like a disfigured Nativity display. They also see your palm, at the end of your motion, resting next to your shoulder.

Bucky gingerly rubs his wound. “Ow,” He grumbles.

“Room… now.” You command, pointing your finger down the hall. Wilted, he shuffles away dutifully, saying nothing to the others as he passes. When he’s gone, you look scornfully at Sam and your beloved jersey, loosely hanging at the edge of his torso, pulled nearly apart.

“Voting starts in twenty, kid,” Tony mentions breezily.

“Yeah,” You reply through gritted teeth, “Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”

-

Steve coughs behind his hand awkwardly when Bucky steps back out, the once snugly-fitting sweater around Sam hanging collapsed and loose on Bucky’s right side. You’re close behind, bouncing on your heels and smiling as if nothing had gone wrong. Steve’s not sure which is worse: your wrath or glee.

“You, uh, you alright?” He calls quietly.

“Oh yeah, absolutely. Right, Buck?”

Bucky swallows, “Uh. Yeah.”

He has no fucking idea; when you shut the door behind him, the sweater in your hand was calmly unfolded and held up to his shoulders, damage assessed by a calculating mind. Bucky still has no clue what possessed you not to scratch his eyes out that very second.

Then, you looked him up and down and said, “Put it on, Barnes. Show’s about to start.”

And if he was a weaker man, he’d be shaking in his goddamn boots at how calm you are.

The team gathers around the tree, various colored pens and torn scraps in hand as they evaluate each other’s attire. Natasha is boldly displaying a patchwork kind of cardigan with what looks like the Michelin man ominously hovering behind a tree. Tony, of course, has custom-ordered a perfectly sized wreath knitted around his arc reactor heart. Steve has completely missed the Christmas memo (or is perhaps the politest Grinch on Earth) wears blue, the tiniest hint of gold tinsel woven through.

And Sam -- stupid, stupid Sam-- who didn’t plan on being robbed of a perfectly knitted sweater five minutes before the voting process, is out of the game.

Bucky is about to write your name down, because a medium part of him feels guilty for hurting your feelings while a much larger part of him feels apprehension about what exactly might happen if you lose, but you suddenly dig your hand into his pocket.

All five fingers shove deep until your fist is gripping tight and your knuckles stab his thigh.

“Hey! No hanky-panky during voting!” Tony is scandalized.

A vicious snap of his pocketknife swings open and before he knows it, your left hand is fisting the yarn on his chest and your right is ripping it straight through. The room falls silent when you do it a second time and Bucky’s at a loss for words until the breeze hits.

Chills.

A tendril of AC sneaks through the two open holes you’ve carved and goosebumps bloom all over his chest. Dread settles in his tummy.

His nipples are pebbled and exposed for everyone to see and with a quiet click of the blade retracting, you tuck it back into his pocket. 

“Let the voting begin.”

No one moves. No one makes a single sound and the whole place is quieter than a crypt until a shrill wheeze squeaks out of Sam’s nostrils. Through the choked snickering and the slowly building crescendo of everyone else’s laughter, Wilson admits, “They’re browner than I thought they’d be.”

There’d be no need for a voting process, Bucky knows. You’ve stolen the show – or rather, his nipples have stolen the show, and the once-worthy prize is now his Sisyphean burden to bear. He closes his eyes and counts to a million.

Screw exemptions from team meetings, Bucky thinks, praying desperately that when the bourbon is bestowed to him, by some miracle of sweet baby Jesus, he’d be able to get shitfaced again.

-

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