#have wanted one for years!! always used to buy disposable ones but i wanted something a bit more. sustainable

[steelycunt]

just bought a film camera!! i do not know anything about. film photography other than it looks fun so this should be good xx

[freebirdsworldburritos]

The classism in the "music gear" scene is fucking atrocious. So many people will shit on other people for using affordable gear as a way to justify within themselves that dropping $3,000 on a guitar was a smart financial move.

About 3-4 years ago I joined a band and a month after I joined we went on some video podcast. Play a few songs, do an interview, something I've never done before but it seemed like it'd be fun.

I wasn't able to really get a word in during the interviews (stuttering/speech impediment/anxiety issues ran wild) but I was able to speak up whenever the host went around and asked us what our favorite instrument/gear brands were. Weird question, but alright buddy.

I've always been a fan of cheaper gear. You don't need all sorts of expensive shit to get the sound you want. So when he asked my answer was "Squier" and the dude just started laughing. Because who possibly would prefer one of the cheaper brands??? (Keep in mind this douche had a whole wall of the absolute worst looking collection of custom shop BC Rich guitars you've ever seen.)

Eventually he backed down once I started arguing with him about it, but his immediate elitist attitude really struck a cord in me because I see that shit all over the internet in music communities. "Oh you only like Squiers/Epiphones/Harley Bentons because you can't afford BIG BOY guitars like a $5,000 Gibson".

Fuck right off with that shit. Why would I pay thousands of dollars for a guitar when I can get something that works amazingly for me for just a few hundred dollars? The extra money I save by not dropping 4 figures on a guitar or amp goes towards paying my bills, feeding my kids, just trying to fucking live and exist.

At this point I've had to sell 99% of my music gear after over a decade of following the gear chase. I only have a "cheap" acoustic I bought several years ago for $350 and it's the best guitar I've ever had. I love my little busted neck Hummingbird to death.

I'm much happier now than I was when I had a huge assortment of pedals and guitars to choose from. The Gear Chase is designed to make you want to spend more and more money in an endless pursuit of finding that "perfect" piece of gear. Guitar companies, partnered youtubers, influencers, and all sorts of advertisement campaigns are purposefully trying to misguide you into thinking you NEED their product. It's marketing and capitalism at work and so many musicians fall for it every time. I fell for it for years before I got completely fed up with it.

Go out and gig with your Squier Bullet Strat and a cheap amp you found at a pawn shop, fuck anyone that gives you shit for it. Go ahead and record with whatever you have at your disposal. Put out an album that's comprised of Voice Memos you recorded on your phone with just an acoustic and your voice.

Music, like any art, is about way more than what you used to get there. It's how you express yourself that really matters. Don't listen to the elitists and marketers telling you the only way you can authentically reach your creative vision is by buying their snake oil.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine becoming a part of the red hair pirate's disembarking procedure

Part 2 of this post (it's free to view on Patreon, you just need an account I think)

Benn: *talking to the whole crew* Alright, we're going onto an island we've never been on before, and one we're not sure if anyone has ever landed here. We have protocol for this, and it's paramount that you follow it to a T.

Shanks: *whispers* oh shit, you know he's serious when he breaks out the big words.

Yassop: *snickers*

Benn: I'm going to give you a refresher on the rules.... We use the buddy system, no one gets to shit without their buddy.

You: Just what I always wanted, a poop buddy.

Shanks: *puts his arm around your shoulders* the only time our synchronized bowel movements are a blessing.

You: *rolls your eyes* at least we won't have to fight over who gets to use the bathrooms first.

Shanks: now I get what I have always dreamed of, to hold your hand and look deep into your eyes while we poop.

You: *shudders in horror* You're so weird.

Shanks: *plants a wet kiss on your cheek*

Benn: Now would those of you assigned to the exploration party please line up at the gangway for departure.

You: *goes to help Hongo prep a med pack for the exploration crew*

Hongo: *once the kit is finished* They're going to want you to take it to them.

You: Uh, okay? *takes it out to see them waiting patiently in line for them.

Benn: Excellent *takes the med kit and straps it to his pack* Now time for our kiss goodbye. *Bends down, so his forehead is level with your face*

You: Really?

Benn: yes, now hop to it.

You: *rolls your eyes, but gives each of them a forehead kiss*

The next island

You: *Currently too sick and infectious for Hongo to allow the crew in the med bay to get their kisses goodbye*

The exploration team: *has a horrible time on the island*

After getting back to the ship and getting the hell off that island

Benn: we barely got out of there, Hongo, you really need to get them back on their feet before the next island.

Hongo: *patching up Benn's shoulder* who are you talking about?

Shanks: My partner, obviously, we have the worst luck without them around.

Hongo: I'm sorry my skills aren't enough for you

Shanks: It's not that you aren't enough, because I have absolute faith in your skills. It's just I always feel bad, like I'm wasting your time, when I have to come to you for treatment every single time we step off the ship. Also being hurt sucks, if we can prevent it before that happens that'd be way better for everyone. I mean wouldn't you rather be conducting that research you've been working on for years?

Hongo: ....fair point, I'll have them up and at 'em as soon as possible. I'll also come up with some protocol to get y'all access even while they're sick.

Benn: how are you gonna manage that?

Hongo: *shrugs*I'll probably just stick 'em in a hazmat suit or something.

In the Port at the next island

You: *finally feeling better*

Hongo: I'm going to go refill my herb stores, I'll be back before dusk. *kisses you on the forehead, and presents his to you*

You: do I have to? I'm still sure this is how I got sick in the first place.

Hongo: *pulls out a pack of disposable alcohol pads, disinfects his forehead, and presents it again*

You: *sighs, but gives him a peck anyway* Buy more disinfectant while you're out, since y'all have convinced yourselves that I'm magic.

Hongo: *nods and walks down the gangplank to the dock*

Benn: We haven't decided you're magic, you know.

You: Oh really? Because you act like the world will crush you if you leave without me pressing my lips to your forehead.

Benn: It's not like that, it *growls in frustration*... we've noticed a pattern and most of us would rather not risk breaking that pattern. Okay, so suck it up and pucker up *pointing at his forehead and giving you his serious face*

You: *slaps one of the alcohol pads at his face.* Clean your oily forehead of yours first, I ain't gonna kiss it when it's clammy and gross.

Yassop: *laughs* you might need to give him two, since he's got such a big ass head.

Benn: *scoffs* Your forehead is bigger than mine, and where are you going?

Yassop: Deviating from the pattern, later. * steps off the gang plank and falls through the first dock plank he steps on, hitting his balls on the support beam, and gets slapped in the face by the other end of the plank before falling into the ocean*

The Crew present: *groan in sympathy as they protectively cup their own genitals*

Benn: dumbass

You: he doesn't learn, does he?

Shanks: Not quickly, he'll need to hurt himself a few times before it clicks.

You: ....we should make bets

Benn: two thousand on him falling down a flight of stairs next.

Shanks: You're on.

You: that's awful... and wrong, he's gonna get attacked by something in the water, and I'll bet ten thousand on it.

Coming Soon

[mysticmellowlove]

General Yandere hcs with us pregnant?

We’ve been married for a few years and we’re finally pregnant! How does he react and what does he do during the pregnancy?

note; they took away my yellow option, the bastards

warnings; fem reader, yan male, pregnancy, fluff, pov changes, manipulation inference,

With a perfectly placated smile he walked down the hallway of his newly built house, his perfect little slice of life with the white picket fence and all. It was a great neighbourhood, with lots of other parents around and a pristine record. Full of family gatherings and helpful neighbours who were so in love with each other they wouldn't even take a second glance over at his own relationship.

As he walked past one of his new favourite rooms, the nursery of course, he stopped abruptly. Standing in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, was his heavily pregnant wife. With a giddy smile, he crept in and wrapped his arms around her, lifting up her belly gently to ease some of the stress. A satisfied sigh left her.

"It's not perfect yet." He could basically hear the tense tone roll off her as she surveyed the room. He'd spent endless hours with her in here organising the furniture, painting the walls and throwing down plush carpet. If his wife said it wasn't done yet then it wasn't done.

"What are you thinking?" He hummed as he also looked around. It looked fine to him but there was just something so fun about catering to his wife's whims. She had the right to be picky after all, he rubbed his fingers in small circles under her stomach.

A click left her mouth as her body shifted, her hand to her chin as she looked around. The room comprised of soft colours, soft surfaces and there was even a nice rocking chair in one of the corners, a little bookshelf full of educational baby books sat just to the side of it.

"I can't put my hand on it." She huffed. He laughed, that was a simple fix.

"Let's go browsing again, I have the day off after all."

After being together for over five years you had decided it was time for the next step, a little rascal to fill the small... gremlin-shaped hole in your lives.

Yan enjoyed the nights he spent trying to get you pregnant, it was one of his favourite parts of the day!

Of course, he always showered you in affection after, there was only one thing better than sex after all.

When he came home and found out that you were pregnant he basically fainted.

A little version of his favourite person was about to be brought into the world and he was going to absolutely coddle it.

As soon as you started to show he was like a hovering hen, fretting over your every move.

Something on the other side of the house, he's got it.

Other side of the room, don't even move!

Two inches to the left, he's wrapping his arms around you in a hug before dropping it off in your lap.

Do you have cravings, want to go for a walk, sleepy day? He can do anything and everything!

The kitchen was always stocked with your favourite snacks, he prepared some easy pot and microwave meals for you when he was out as well.

Want to work from home, he's buying an ergonomic desk, or maybe one of those lap cushions so you don't even have to move!

Don't move, and don't leave the house. He's got everything here already silly.

One of your family members is sick? They can't come over, he wants you in tip-top shape.

No stress is allowed, he will dispose of anything that comes even close.

Creepy men? Dead. Old neighbours wanting to see your belly? Threatened. Loud dogs? Relocated. Co-workers saying 'Of course she was going to get pregnant, she just wants the maternity pay'? Ruthlessly dismembered.

He does let one other lady come over, a short and abrupt older lady from down the road who just wouldn't budge. Luckily she has the same ideals as him.

Why would you go down the street if both your husband and the nice old lady say to stay at home and rest?

Are you bored all alone, how about a cat... or maybe an old dog from the shelter?

He'd talk to you through the nanny cams around the new build if he didn't think you'd be weirded out...

Anything you want, all you have to do is call him and he's there.

He just loves you so much, you're so pretty!

(you were right of course, the nursery wasn't complete... turns out you're having twins!)

[sokovianheadtilt]

Chase Of My Adoration

Wanda Maximoff x female!avenger!reader

Summary: You and Wanda broke up 6 months ago, and you fall into each other’s orbit once again, what will happen this time?

A/N: i haven’t written for Wanda in so long and i want to again. It gets a lil spicy (it’s smut why am i lying) which is something i’ve never done before, if it’s terrible, my bad i have a lot to learn, enjoy!!!

Warnings: slight angst, smut, fingering, oral

Word Count: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

When you and Wanda decided to end your two-year-long relationship, you weren’t sure you would survive it. She was the love of your life you were sure of it, but when things got rocky, you didn’t know how to fix it. You felt her getting distant. You did everything, showed her more affection, tried to get her to go on dates she would always turn down, buy her flowers, but nothing worked. She kept pulling away until you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew what you deserved and would not let her treat you as disposable. 

It was hard to ignore her fully when you both lived in the Avengers Tower. When your friends caught wind of what had happened between you two, you both did your best to reassure them that they shouldn’t choose sides. You both knew if that happened, it would be Germany all over again. 0n missions, if you had to work together due to your powers being so similar, then you would, but that was it. Everything changed the night the Avengers were throwing a small party after another successful attempt at saving the world.

You put on your best dress, a red silk dress with a slit cut out on the side of your leg, your hair perfectly curled, and your makeup perfectly done. You felt gorgeous like everyone’s eyes would be on you, yet you were only concerned about one set of eyes, and she was sitting over by the bar. You avoided her for now and decided to strike up a conversation between Steve and Natasha. 

As the party went on, you decided to go to the bathroom to calm your nerves a bit. You kept looking over at Wanda, debating if you should go over to her or not. You refrained from looking into her mind to see what she was thinking out of respect for you, also she would know and you couldn’t handle that embarrassment right now. You stood in front of the mirror and took a few deep breaths. You touched up your makeup when you heard the bathroom door open. You glanced over and saw Wanda walk inside. You stopped what you were doing and stared at her. 

“You could’ve talked to me you know” she said in that sexy Sokovian accent 

“Well, I wanted to give you your space” You put your makeup away, not turning to face her. 

Wanda moved to stand beside you, leaning against the sink, raking her eyes over your body. “I miss you, Y/N” You froze a bit before clearing your throat before speaking “You should’ve thought of that before treating me like shit” You turned to face her “I gave you everything! And you threw it away like it was nothing! You never even told me why. Was it something I did? Was I too needy? Did I smother you?” you could feel your throat closing up as you felt the tears threatening to fall. 

“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I don’t know what happened to me. I felt like….I felt like I didn’t deserve you. I felt like I didn’t deserve happiness and because you were so amazing I decided to push you away to punish myself” Wanda explained

You wanted to rush to hug her, to tell her how she deserved happiness and everything good in the world, but you couldn’t help but feel angry as you shoved her a bit. 

“Why did you feel like you couldn’t trust me with that then?” you huffed “I would’ve been there for you, we could’ve gotten you help” You crossed your arms 

“I wasn’t thinking and I messed up the greatest relationship I’ve ever had” She reached out to uncross your arms, holding on to your wrist “And I know you still want me. I know you’ve been looking at me all night my love” Wanda moved to step closer to you as you muttered “Don’t call me that” 

“You used to love when I called you that. I never got over you Y/N, I spend day and night thinking about you, the way you loved me” She put your hands on your waist “The way I used to hold you” She kissed your cheek “The way I used to fuck you” she whispered as your eyes went wide “W-Wanda-” you started but she cut you off “You think I don’t know you don’t miss me?” she moved to set you on the top of the sink, using her powers to lock the door “I do…” you whispered to her. 

Your faces are so close. You can feel her breath on your face as you looked into her green eyes. You wanted to resist her, make her work for it, but you couldn’t resist, you were only human. You were a weak woman but you need the reassurance first. 

“I can’t let this happen if you’re going to hurt me again” you told her softly “My heart can’t take it”

Wanda nodded a little “I will spend the rest of my life making up for the pain I’ve caused you”

You wanted to believe her but you took a glimpse into her mind to see if she was being truthful and you got your answer. You leaned in to kiss her roughly, moving a hand into the back of her head, gripping her hair. You felt Wanda bunch your dress around your waist exposing the red lace panties you were wearing underneath. When Wanda pulled away and glanced down to look at them, she let out a soft laugh.

“These are the panties you wear when you want this pretty pussy played with. Is that what you wanted Y/N?” she moved to kiss your neck 

“Um- I- I don’t know” you answered sheepishly 

“You know, you just don’t want to admit it” Wanda moved a hand down between your legs, running a finger over your slit over the cloth covering it, and smiled at the small gasp you let out 

“Wanda, please” you pleaded “I need you so bad” you moaned out 

“Don’t worry my love, you’ll get what you want” She moved to pull your panties off, stuffing them in her pocket “You’ll get these back eventually” she smirked as you rolled your eyes.

Wanda pulled you closer to the edge of the sink, pulling down the straps of your dress. She ran her fingers over the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss to the curve of it before pulling down your dress a bit more to expose your breasts. Wanda moved to attach her lips to one of your nipples, her other hand groping the other. You let out a loud gasp, leaning your head back against the mirror. 

“Fuck Wanda” you moaned out as she gently bit at your nipple and moved to do the same to the other before standing back up. “Be mindful there are people outside that door my love. Don’t want them to hear how much you want me, you have to be quiet detka” She pressed a kiss to your lips and moved her hand down to your pussy, feeling the wetness pooling within it. 

“Oh you’re so wet for me, my love” She moved to slide two fingers inside you, resulting in a loud moan from you before you quieted yourself by biting your lip. You felt her starting to gently pump her fingers, wrapping your legs around her, and looked down at her “Wanda I need more, please, I need it so bad I want you to wreck me” you begged. You felt so submissive, willing to let her do whatever she wanted to you at this moment. Wanda seemed pleased with your request as she sped up her fingers, scissoring inside you as she hit your sweet spot each time. 

“Yes that’s it, fuck keep gong baby, I love it” you moaned out loudly, not caring who could hear you. In this moment, all you cared about was you and Wanda. She moved to kneel between your legs, moving to attach her mouth to your clit, sucking on it wildly.

You grabbed onto her hair, hearing your moans echo around the bathroom walls as you gyrated your hips as if you were riding her face. “That’s it baby” you moaned “You love how I taste don’t you?” you smirked and pulled her head away to make her look at you “Answer me” you demanded

“You taste like heaven detka. I want nothing more than to have you come on my tongue and fingers” She smiled as you guided her head back to your folds. You balanced yourself on the edge of the sink, relishing in the intense pleasure you were receiving after 6 months of no sex. 

“Fuck I’m almost there” you warned the Sokovian woman “Come for me then detka” she said before burying your head back between your legs and soon you came all over her face with a shout. 

As you caught your breath, you leaned back against the mirror, watching as Wanda stood up and wiped her mouth off with her hand, running her tongue over her fingers that were just inside you “Just as I suspected, delicious as ever” she moved to give you a soft kiss “Clean yourself up and meet me upstairs in my room. Don’t keep me waiting my love” she ordered as she fixed her hair before leaving the bathroom. 

You jumped down from the counter and fixed your dress, hair, and makeup slightly before rushing out of the room. And if anyone knew what just occurred, they kept it to themselves. After all, you didn’t care, you got the love of your life back and that’s all that matters.

[doudouneverte]

A new start

a/n: hey I'm alive sorry...

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader; Yelena Belova x Female!Reader(platonic)

Summary: I just wanted to write something about Yelena...

Type: Fluff

Warning: mention of Red Room and nothing else (I think)

word count: 3058

-----------

It was already night when Natasha came back, but she was not alone. The redhead opened the door to find a noiseless home; you were definitely sleeping, and even if she loved when you greeted her when she came back, she was more happy to know you found time to rest.

"Come on." She said to the woman next to her, "I'll just check Y/n and we will prepare the spare bedroom." Nat walked to your shared bedroom without making any sounds to not wake you up. When the Russian had confirmation that you were asleep, she started the other part of her plan.

The next day you woke up with your wife next to you; she said she had a mission somewhere in Europe, and you just assumed she came back last night while you were sleeping. You left a kiss on her head before heading to the bathroom and then to the kitchen to make her breakfast. Dating a super spy wasn't easy, and marrying her wasn't really better, but you knew she would always come back to you. During the years, you did a lot of things to make her life easier, even if it wasn't always good, but you tried and you succeeded.

While you were making breakfast, you heard some footsteps behind you. You were expecting your favorite redhead, but you were surprised to see a blonde woman standing in front of you in one of your wife's pajamas, visibly tired and as confused as you.

"Who the hell are you?" You asked, a little surprised by how calm you sounded.

Yelena wanted to talk, but her sister came before "Good morning, detka." Natasha greeted you beside her little sister, and you just replied with a nod. "Oh yes, I almost forgot..." She took some steps toward you and pointed to the other woman in the room. "Y/n, let me introduce you to my little sister, Yelena." She turned to Yelena and pointed to you this time: "Yelena, let me introduce you to my wife for a long time now, Y/n."

"Why are you so formal?" The two of you both asked her, then exchanged a look and chuckled. You dropped the knife you were using to cut some fruit before being interrupted to properly introduce you to the blonde.

"Hi Yelena, I'm Y/n, but you can call me Y/n/n." You proposed your hand with a big smile, and she shook it.

"Uh, hi?"

"Are you hungry? I'm making breakfast; you can ask if you want anything special." You proposed.

"No, it's okay, I don't want to bother you; I'll just have toast and a cup of coffee." The youngest Russian said

"Don't worry, it's not bothering her; you can ask her anything." Natasha said before emptying her coffee cup and rushing out of the kitchen. "I need to do some paperwork for the last mission; I should be back tonight. I will buy the dinner." She announced it before disappearing.

You finished the breakfast and disposed of a plate in front of the blonde woman when the redhead came back, already dressed to leave.

Natasha quickly kissed you on the lips before giving a quick kiss on Yelena's cheek before heading to the front door. "I love you; see you tonight!" She yelled before you heard the door getting slammed.

In the kitchen, you were eating, a little unsure of how you should act with your sister-in-law. Your wife already told you about her past and about Yelena; you knew the widows didn't trust easily. -- it took you almost one year and a half after you and the older sister started dating before she started to confess a little about her past.

"So, what are you doing?" Yelena asked you to break the silence.

"What do you mean by what I am doing?" You asked completely confused.

"Are you a super soldier, a super spy, have you a super armor, or have you any super powers?" She asked, and you laughed. "What is funny?"

"Nothing; it's just that I wish I had powers, but no, I'm just like you... I mean, not really. I'm not a spy or anything." You replied.

"Well, if I had to imagine my sister dating someone, I thought it would be one of the boys band." She said and took another sip of her coffee while you laughed again.

"Sorry, it's just that you're not the only one who assumes that, but you are the only one who says that in front of me." You took a moment to regain your serious "I'm not someone special; honestly, even after three years, I don't know why your sister asked me to be her wife." You confessed.

"She's the one who proposed?"

"Yes, it was a Tuesday. I came back from my training, and she waited for me in the bathroom. She got a little hurt on a mission, and I started to help her, and out of nowhere, she proposed to me." You smiled at the memory. "She didn't even have a ring or anything; she just did it spontaneously, and I accepted it."

"Why? Excuse me, but did you know who she was before you accepted?"

"Yes, of course. We had been dating for four years before that. She told me about her... about your past."

"She talked to you about me?" Yelena asked, visibly surprised.

"Yes, almost every day, sometimes I had to shut her up." You joked. "She missed you a lot. She passed every year to close herself every time we were approaching her anniversary of her escape from the Red Room." You confessed.

"Why? The Red Room was not a place that should be mourned."

"I know, but this date reminded her of the time she left you, hoping that somehow you found a way to escape and find a better life." The blonde searched for a trace of lying in your expression, but she didn't find anything. "But I'm happy that you're here now; she talked to me a lot about you, but I always wanted to meet you. First, because I feel like I still need your approval for marrying your sister, and also because we need someone to keep an eye on Liho when we're not around."

This time it was Yelena's turn to laugh; you didn't say anything and just admired her, probably feeling alive for a long time. "I don't think I'm the best person to take care of a cat; I'm more of a dog person." She said and you nodded.

"Okay but you didn't say no, so I'll take that for a yes." You said before grabbing her plate to start washing the dishes. "Oh before I forgot, did you have any clothes except Nat's one?" You asked.

"No, we just landed here late last night." The blonde said.

"Okay. There is a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, and there are also some towels. You can take a shower and put some of your sister's clothes, I'll finish this, and we will leave." You announced.

"Where are we going?" The blonde asked.

"Buying you some clothes and a new phone." You replied.

"You don't have to."

"Be ready in forty minutes." You said firmly before starting to do the dishes, not allowing room for any debate.

Yelena wanted to protest, but she remembered what Nat said about you being almost more stubborn than her. The blonde made her way to the bathroom, where she easily found everything and some clothes folded with a note written by Nat.

Fourty minutes later, you were waiting for her in front of the main door when she came out of her bedroom dressed, and you led her into your car. On your ride, you decided to try to get to know her more than Nat told you.

"So...do you have anything in mind, a favorite type of clothes, or anything?" You asked.

"Not really; I will take anything you want." She replied.

"Uh uh, absolutely not." You protested, "It's your clothes, so you'll choose." She didn't have time to reply before you parked the car. "Let's go." You said showing a credit card.

In the shop, Yelena seemed a little shy to be here. You found it cute, but something in your mind reminded you why she acted like that.

You patted her shoulder and gave her a smile. "What do you think about trying to find a lot of clothes that would suit you and meeting at the cabin in thirty minutes?" You proposed, and she nodded shyly before she started to walk, "and don't restrain you." You added before walking in the other direction.

Thirty minutes later, as you were waiting for her with your hand full of clothes, the blonde came to meet you with fewer articles than you like you excepted. "Don't you think it's too much?" She asked while she was examining everything you picked.

"Nothing is too much. Now go try everything, and we will keep what you want." You commanded, and even if she wanted to protest, she was thinking about what her sister told her.

After a lot of time dressing and undressing herself, Yelena finally came out with some choices. You made your way to the cashier, and she was a little surprised to see all the articles. When you paid, you immediately put the bag in the car before continuing your purchase.

After buying her a new phone, you decided to take a pause in a restaurant to eat. While you were waiting for your order, the blonde in front of you cleared her throat to gain your attention.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" You nodded to let her continue "What do you—" she was interrupted when someone called you.

"Y/n/n?" You heard a familiar voice call your name, and when you looked at them, you smiled.

"Marina? What are you doing here?" You were clearly surprised to see her but also really happy.

"It's our day off, so I propose to the girls that we have lunch before our game tomorrow." The tall woman replied, and as if she summoned them, a group of girls came into the restaurant, and a few of them rushed to give you a crushing hug.

"Hey girls, I missed you." You said.

"Us too." Another woman said.

"Who is she?" Marina whispered to you.

"Oh right, girls, let me introduce you to Yelena. She's Natasha's little sister. She came from... Europe; yeah, she moved from Europe to be with her sister." You said a little unsure if it was a good answer. Yelena behind you just waved shyly at the girls when she had all their attention.

"And Yelena, this is my volleyball team; they can be annoying, but they're good peoples. At least some of them." You whispered comically loudly to Yelena, who laughed when some of your teammates started to protest.

The encounter with the girls was a rather good things, the Russian seemed less shy when it was time to go back home. At home, you took nearly an hour to install all the new things you bought in her bedroom and in the house. After that, you were a little tired and decided to take a nap while Yelena was watching TV.

Nearly an hour later, Natasha came back. The redhead was a little surprised when you didn't greet her like usual. "Hey, how was your day?" She asked her little sister when she saw her on the couch.

Yelena took a moment to think before replying, "Pretty good; we spent almost all the day doing shopping and eating." She explained, and her sister laughed.

"It's clearly a Y/n thing, but  talking about her. Where is she?"

"She took a nap a little before you came back."

"Oh, did she seem tired?" The redhead asked a little worried.

"Not more than usual."

"Did she say something about her knee?"

"Mmmh...no why?"

"She tore her ACL a few months ago, and now she's in rehab, and she's not protected from injuring her knee again." Natasha said, and her sister started to look at her feet a little guilty.

"Now I feel bad for letting her carry the bags." Yelena admitted but her sister didn't say anything; she just wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close to herself.

"Don't worry, it will not kill her, but yeah, the next time you can be more attentive to that." The older sister said before leaving a kiss on her head. "Now let's watch a movie before I have to order dinner."

After that, you woke up only one hour later, and it was already time for dinner. Natasha ordered mac and cheese, and it was the first time you've seen Yelena so happy for the entire day. You washed the dishes and started to watch a movie before the two sisters joined you. They were commenting on the movie with you and sometimes arguing about a few things until the youngest fell asleep. Your wife picked her up and brought her to her bedroom before calling it a night for her and kissing you before she went to sleep.

Because of your nap, you were still awake around 2 a.m. when you heard some noise in Yelena's bedroom. If it had been more than a decade before, you would surely let it slide, but not now. You married a black widow; you knew exactly what was happening, and honestly, you were surprised it hadn't happened yesterday.

You made your way to the blonde's bedroom. You opened the door carefully before you spotted her on the bed, moving frenetically and mumbling something. If all the past years with Natasha have taught you anything, it is that you need to wake her up before something bad happens, but carefully.

So you walk calmly to her side and check that there wasn't anything that could be used as a weapon before you start to try to wake her up. But of course things didn't go well when she woke up suddenly and started to attack you. Fortunately for you, your wife forced you to train a little with her just in case something like this happened with her.

But Yelena, not being Natasha, didn't restrain herself and really try to kill you; she thought that you were a real threat. You didn't know how, but you managed to immobilize her. You pulled her against you and talked to her until she came back from her state. The redhead entered the bedroom a few seconds later with her widow's bite ready to use it on whoever wanted to arm her sister, but she threw them away when she saw you.

When she sensed her sister, Yelena calmed herself and made her way to Nat's arms. You brought her a water cup and waited until your wife assured you that everything would be alright. After that, you went to sleep, but you were a little shocked by the events.

The next morning, you woke up with the other side of the bed empty of your wife's presence. When you went to the kitchen, no one was there. You checked your phone to see a text from Natasha.

Hot Wife💖[9:32 a.m] I bring Yelena with me to the tower. I love you♥️ You[10:04 a.m] Oh okay, I'll see you later. I love you ♥️

You spent the day trying to distract yourself with Liho and the TV until the girls came back in the middle of the afternoon. When you heard the keys in the door, you rushed from your bedroom to the front door. When Natasha opened the door, you quickly jumped into her arms.

"I missed you too." She joked. You let her go when you saw Yelena behind her; the blonde seemed to feel guilty about earlier.

You didn't say anything and just opened your arms for the youngest sister, who hesitated a moment. She looked at Nat, who reassured her with a smile, and the blonde Russian accepted your hug.

"I'm sorry." Yelena said while you were running your fingers through her hair.

"It's okay; I know what it's like to have those types of nights." You assured her, and she looked at you with a little surprise.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm married to your sister, remember? Now come, Liho missed his aunt." You said bringing her in the living room. After a moment playing with your sister in-law and the cat you went to the kitchen to grabbed a water bottle when Natasha came.

"Thanks for being here for her yesterday." She said while hugging you.

"Don't worry, it's okay. I know it's not easy to live with trauma, but I'm sure one day she will be alright." You reassured her.

"I hope." The redhead said to no one in particular.

Two weeks later, you came back from a trip to the grocery store more excited than usual. "Where is Yelena?" You asked Natasha when you didn't see the blonde in the living room.

"In her bedroom, why?" You didn't reply before you called her sister. A few seconds later, the two sisters were in front of you, confused about your behavior.

"Okay, Yelena, I have a surprise for you." You said before showing her a little box "Open it."

The blonde took the box, opened it, and found a key. She looked at you more confused.

"I know I should do it earlier, but I didn't find the time. Sorry, but here it is." You took the key: "I know that somewhere in your mind you still have a lot of things to deal with, but now you can suppress one thing. This is a spare key to the house; this is officially your home too. I'm really happy to have you in my family."

The blonde took a moment to process what you said. After the mission in Ohio, she didn't think she could have a family, and when Natasha ran away and never came back, that solidified this thought. But now she had somewhere she could call her home again, with people who really cared about her.

Yelena cried and hugged you tightly. "Thank you." She whispered.

"No thanks to you. You just completed our little family." Natasha said before joining you in the hug. Today is a new start.

[malcolm-reeds-pineapple]

Are you looking for a gift for your dad? Here is a gift guide for Weird Dad Genres

Brought to you by the child of a Weird Dad with low/no cost options. I’ve noticed that a lot of people with good dads they like a lot don’t know what to give their dads because all the gift guides around require a man to have a baseline level interest in sports, beer and cars for them to be usable. Disregard this post if your dad sucks or use this advice for a person you like that falls into one of these sub genres.

NPR/CBC Dads

I’m Canadian and have a CBC dad so I’m hoping there is overlap

Tickets to a live taping of their favourite radio show

Merch that supports CBC/NPR and their favourite radio show

Teaching them how to use a podcast app if they don’t know already

History Dads

MASH related literature

Civilization 6 on PC

Book/audio book about their favourite historical era, particularly on a niche topic by a professor of some variety

Researching their favourite era enough to have a meaningful conversation about it with them/being willing to listen to them talk about it

Stoner Dads

Lighters, papers, doob tubes, pipe cleaners, other disposables

Weed lol (depending on regional availability don’t get arrested buying a Christmas present lmfao)

One hitter, a nice pipe, a grinder, a tray, anything like that but shop around to find something they’d actually like.

Randy’s Black Label glassware cleaner and some vase beads!!! I cannot stress this enough!!! This combo leaves glassware SPARKLING.

Cleaning his glassware for him or degunking a grinder (do NOT empty the keef catcher or I’ll kill you myself)

Music Listener Dads

Physical copy of an album they like or one you listened to together

Needles from their turntable if they have records, or alternatively a Kallax shelf from Ikea for storage (actually the best record storage I’ve ever found)

Year subscription to Spotify

Some sort of merch for their favourite artist that goes with their vibe (ie: my dad doesn’t wear band shirts so I give him coffee mugs)

A playlist of songs you listened to together. If you wanna go crazy silly haha you could also get a record out of a dollar bin and draw a cover for it and put a QR code to the playlist inside or you could go old school and do the same thing but actually have a mixtape or burn the playlist onto a CD

Music Playing Dads

Varies a lot depending on skill-level and instrument, but I’m gonna do this as if they were a hobbyist as I’m sure there are gift guides out there for professionals

Any sort of disposable they would need (reeds, picks, strings, sticks etc) but make sure you find out what they prefer (ie pick weight) or if give them a few different options when they’re just starting out to help them figure out what they like

Larger peripherals that they might not want to buy for themselves (NOTE: don’t buy anything too expensive unless you know they want/need it. If you’re not sure, you can always wrap up an IOU in a cereal box so you can go on an adventure later with them and make a day out of it)

If they play piano you can pay for a tuning however this can be pricey and requires planning

Sheet music/tabs printed out in a binder with lyrics. You can also decorate the binder if you’re crafty like that

Nature Dads (rocks/geology)

Idk how niche this is but my dad is a rock dad

Rock tumbler and/or accessories like grit and media

A vug of some sort of crystal if you’re feeling incredibly wealthy or in the likely case that you’re not, get him a few points of a crystal or a few tumbled stones for them to add to the collection

A nice cabinet for display purposes (depends on the size of the collection of course and availability, but my dad has a vintage China cabinet for his rocks that we got at auction for like 100 bucks.)

A map with local areas of geological interest for them to check out with a little blurb about each one. Bonus points if you go on day trips with them or make the map cute if you’re skilled like that

Pop Culture/Sci Fi Dads

If they have trinkets, a display cabinet (like in the above section) is a good idea if they don’t have one

Coffee table books with behind the scenes stuff in it

If there’s a convention nearby and they’re that type of person you could get them tickets

I’ll be honest sci fi/pop culture people are pretty easy to buy for imo but my best advice is to prioritise practicality over dust collectors unless you know for sure they want something else in their collection. I’d also caution to stay away from buying Funko Pops where you can unless they collect them

General Dad Gifts and Advice

Some sort of nostalgia thing that’s personal to them. Examples: snack from their youth that they talk about a lot, a board game they played growing up that they can’t find anywhere, a book he read you growing up (I gave my dad Just Me And My Dad from the Little Critter series one year and he welled up and still maintains it’s one of the best gifts he’s ever gotten)

A good joke gift like my family have been giving each other the same copy of The Search For Spock for 14 years and it’s hilarious to us. Alternatively you can wrap up one of his own possessions and give it to him but make sure that it’s obviously his so he doesn’t think you just gave him another one.

Drill bits never go amiss if a person already owns a drill btw like drill bits are Good and Righteous Things

Always try to write an inscription in a book you’re giving as a gift with a small blurb about why you picked this book and the year and occasion.

I try to stick towards practicality and sentimentality in my gift-giving since for the most part we all have enough dust collectors. Consumables that are part of a hobby/interest are always a great option since they’re something you go through fairly regularly that can add up price wise

Never underestimate the power of a home made gift or a box of little treats. If I gave my dad his favourite peanut butter and a few cans of Fresca, he would be just as happy as if I bought him a brand new stereo. As dumb as it sounds, it really is the thought you put into a gift that counts, even if they’re little coupons someone can cash in for an afternoon of manual labour.

Even if you’re broke, try to give what you can. Thrifted gifts and homemade gifts are just as valuable as brand new gifts if the person you’re giving it to is worth giving a present.

Also while we’re on the topic, don’t give gifts to anyone who doesn’t appreciate you as a person like if you’re dad’s not good to you then either don’t give him shit or give him 20 bucks if you feel like it

Please feel free to add onto this if you have advice for gifting to a niche sub genre of dad/person.

[eliotquillon]

I always thought those pictures emma sloan took of them soooo cute. honestly if it was any other showrunner they would've milked the chameron relation for at least another season. alas it is our loss. Could you maybe write something about those pictures and where they eventually ended up?

sorry this ends on kind of a sad note LMFAO couldn't help myself. feel free to stop reading before the final asterisk if you want to leave this on a happy ending :P

They’re just photographs. The fact that he keeps them doesn’t have to mean anything.

*

The truth is that Chase has never been a photo kind of guy. His memories of his family aren’t fond enough to warrant a shrine in their absence, he didn’t really keep in touch with any of his old high school and college friends after he moved to America, and while he has other friends now–the local Saturday soccer team, the guys at the bowling alley, some of the regulars at the deli he always buys his lunch from–they’re not the sort of people you take pictures of. He’s passing through their lives, and they’re passing through his; it’s nice while it lasts, but there’s no point pretending. There’s a tiny, almost thumb-sized photo of his mother holding him as a baby that he keeps in his wallet, but most of the time he makes sure to fold his cash in a way that he doesn’t have to keep seeing it. It isn’t deep, or anything. There are posters and prints in his apartment, little trinkets from the occasional grateful clinic patient and old gifts from girls he used to go out with and seashells from the beaches in Melbourne that he keeps under his bed–Chase isn’t allergic to sentimentality, he’s not House. But there aren’t really any photos. He doesn’t see the point.

This, he knows, puts him on one side of the spectrum; Foreman, Chase would guess, is somewhere in the middle–he keeps a photo of his own mother pinned up carefully inside his hospital locker–and Cameron is safely, squarely, on the opposite side. He’s seen her wallet, the inside of her glove compartment that one time she was driving them back to his apartment and asked him to pass her a chapstick: they’re littered with them, a mix of Polaroids and disposable film and photobooth strips and digital print outs. A small, mean part of Chase suspects that this might be why Cameron is always so insistent on making them go to his apartment instead of hers; he doesn’t really remember the inside of her bedroom well enough from that one night last year, but he suspects she keeps her wedding album proudly on display. And he doesn’t begrudge her for it. They’re not together; what kind of an asshole would he be, to begrudge her for it? But he can’t help but be intrigued. Cameron’s life, from his outside-in perspective, isn’t exactly bursting to the full. She works; she fucks Chase; she sometimes volunteers at her local church and then complains about how weird it feels to be there for hours afterwards. She has precisely one friend that she hangs out with regularly–Josie–and although Chase has never met her, she sounds absolutely insufferable. On the surface, it is emptier than his. But to look at it from the photos alone–from his lack of them, from her abundance of them–it would seem the complete opposite.

This is, in truth, why he is initially intrigued by Emma Sloan’s photograph of Cameron. For a moment, Chase sees that photograph and imagines himself as a photograph person–for a moment, he wants to childishly fold the photo away and slip it into his pocket and keep it somewhere nobody else can see. It isn’t like it’s a particularly special moment, either. It’s just Cameron, wearing her glasses, preparing to do a bladder tap. He means it when he tells Emma that he sees her all day like this: focused, compassionate, ready to do good. The realisation that everyone else sees her like this, too, suddenly makes him feel absurdly jealous in a way he’d rather not dwell on. It’s just Cameron. 

But Emma tells him to keep it, gives him permission to stow away the little bright, warm feeling in his chest, and Chase can’t help it: he smiles. He barely hears the camera go off again. “Thanks,” he tells Emma, not yet dwelling on what the hell he’s doing or why he’s so interested in this picture, and he pretends that he doesn’t know why Emma laughs.

*

“When’d she take this picture of you?” Cameron asks, holding the photo of Chase looking at her own photo. “You look so…”

Enamoured, Chase thinks. Head over heels. Surely you can see it?

He isn’t disappointed when Cameron doesn’t ask to keep the photograph. It’s for the best, really; if she kept it, maybe she’d keep asking what Emma did to make him smile like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything that Chase, who has no photographs, kept hers, and that Cameron, who hoards photographs, didn’t ask to keep his.

*

He can’t bring himself to get rid of it, even after he asks Cameron for more and she says no; even after he keeps confessing his feelings to her every Tuesday and she keeps getting more annoyed and insistent that she doesn’t return them. The upside, Chase thinks, is that at least Cameron doesn’t come around to his apartment anymore. He doesn’t have to worry about keeping Emma’s photograph hidden like a bad secret. He keeps it tucked between his bookshelves, the thin, glossy paper slightly bent from being pressed between two hardbacks; at first Chase kept it facing outward, but it hurt too much, seeing her face–earnest and bright and so Cameron–and feeling like a stranger to her again, just another voyeur. As much of an outsider as Emma, even though he still sees her every day.

When House fires him, Chase decides he’ll get it framed. Emma was right; he wants to see Cameron outside of work. He’s probably never going to see her again–not with any regularity, anyway; they’ll probably cross paths at conferences or whenever Foreman is back in town, but it won’t be anywhere close to the same–and the feelings will fade, eventually. He’ll stop hurting. The photograph will be good exposure therapy. Chase will get used to seeing her in photograph form, and learn to forget about Cameron in her real form, and soon it will just be a nice, artsy photo taken by a patient he particularly liked. It won’t be weird. It’ll be nice. It will.

*

“What’s this?” Cameron asks, after their third–maybe fourth–real date. She’s prowling around his bookshelf and looking for something to read–she is, she claims, protesting Chase’s decision to rent the new Spider-Man movie–and her fingers brush against the concealed edge of Emma’s photograph. Chase never did get around to getting it framed; Cameron showed up on his doorstep before he got the chance. His apartment is still technically photo-less, but Cameron has a photobooth strip of them she made them take when they went to a fair last week, and he keeps reminding her to give him half of the photos. So he’s working on it, basically. That’s the main thing. “Wait–is this me?” She’s holding up the photo properly now, wine-dark mouth in a small little o of surprise. “This is Emma Sloan’s work, right?” Cameron asks, when Chase doesn’t answer the first question. It’s obvious, after all. “I’ve never seen this one before. Did you steal it?” “She gave it to me,” Chase answers defensively, ducking his head. He feels embarrassed, and a little caught-out. “She said I should keep it. I think she…knew. That I had–that I have–feelings for you.”

“Huh,” Cameron says. She traces her fingers contemplatively over her own face, and nods decisively. “Give me a second.” “Wait, Allison, I’m sorry,” Chase calls after her, as Cameron suddenly dashes out of his living room and starts toeing on her shoes. She’s a little tipsy, and swaying with the movement; he wants to reach out and steady her when she wobbles a little with one foot in her heels, but he isn’t sure if it’d be welcome. “I didn’t mean to be creepy, I just–” “Robert,” Cameron cuts him off authoritatively, “give me a second. Wait here.”

Chase watches, helpless, out the window as she totters out towards her car and opens her…passenger door? What, he thinks blankly. If Cameron was going to run away screaming–and, if he’s honest, a part of him did expect her to; she gets a little funny when it comes to grand declarations–she should be getting in the driver’s seat. Not folding herself up like a pretzel while she roots around in her glove compartment, holding something triumphantly aloft and then full-on sprints back up the front steps and into the hallway…

“Look,” Cameron smiles, “we match.” It’s that photo of him: the one that Cameron said made him look all glowy. It hasn’t fared as well as Chase’s photo of Cameron; it’s creased and slightly whitened, like she’s been folding it and unfolding it fastidiously over the last few months, like she couldn’t bear to stop touching it. A little part of Chase thinks he might cry. “But you didn’t–I was with you when we gave Emma back her stuff,” Chase says, dumbfounded. “You didn’t ask to keep it.”

“Maybe you didn’t steal yours,” Cameron says, “but I did.” She smiles down at the photo again, and brushes her fingers against photo-Chase’s black-and-white face. “You were looking at my photo, right? When Emma took this one?”

“Yeah,” Chase allows.

“I want to make you look like this picture all the time,” Cameron says shyly, and then he kisses her: because he can do that now, because she likes him back, because now he gets to see her after work and it’s wonderful. 

They get the photos framed, when they move in together. They’re the first of many.

* When Cameron goes to Chicago, she takes Emma’s photographs with her. It makes sense, Chase thinks. He tells himself he doesn’t miss them.

[cheerscoops]

ship: Jonathan Byers/Eddie Munson wc: 1.8k A/N: This one was suggested by my favorite @sherifftillman <3 I take the two freak boys and I squish. Hopefully they (and the minor background ship) live up to everyone's expectations!

“Hey Byers! Wait up!”

Jonathan stopped walking to his next class and turned to find Eddie Munson of all people racing towards him.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said once he’d caught up to Jonathan. “A job opportunity really.”

“What kind of job opportunity?” He was always looking to make a little more money around the holidays, and if the job wasn’t anything illegal, he’d seriously consider the extra work.

“So, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m the frontman for a pretty spectacular band known as Corroded Coffin, and me and the guys were hoping to do a little something special for our fans this year. Granted, there are maybe five of them total, but still. They deserve a little something special as a token of appreciation for supporting us. Anyway, we wanted to send out a special Christmas card to our friends this year. Maybe include a flier about some upcoming shows in it? It’s still very much in the planning stages. All we know is that we want a really great photo of the whole band to go on the front of the card. That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to shoot your Christmas card?”

“Well, yeah. We don’t want an amateur with a disposable camera doing this. We want it to look good, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the most talented photographer any of us knows. Maybe the most talented in all of Hawkins. I mean those photos you had in the school art show last year? Magazine worthy. Especially the one of that fort in the woods. It looked seriously haunted in the coolest way possible. Way better than anything anyone else submitted.”

Jonathan was touched. He knew most people only knew him as that freak with the camera, and he’d be lying if he hadn’t assumed that was why Eddie was asking when he first mentioned the card. But Eddie actually knew his work and appreciated it. He wasn’t asked just because he had a camera. He was asked because he had vision.

“How much does the job pay?” he asked.

“We’re not exactly rolling in it right now. Shocking, I know. But we talked about it and pulled our money. We can buy you a roll of film for the project so you don’t have to waste any of your own on us, and then we think we can reasonably afford to pay you for your time with twenty bucks and dinner at Benny’s afterwards. I know it’s not a lot, but it would mean a lot to us if you’d consider it. Plus, you can use the photos you take for any assignment or art show you might have coming up. And, come on.” Eddie gestured to himself. “If this handsome face is in your work, you’ll win all the top prizes for sure."

Eddie was right that it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough that it would make a difference in the quality of the gifts that Jonathan was able to get his mom and brother for Christmas. And if he didn’t have to use his own film, it was a net gain no matter what.

“So, say I agree to do this,” he started. “And I’m not agreeing just yet, but say that I do. What kinds of photos are you looking for?”

“Maybe something goofy and posed with all of us? Or artsy if you prefer. And then maybe a couple photos of us actually playing? We’ve got a Santa hat and some elf hats we were thinking of wearing since this is for a Christmas thing, but wearing them isn’t a deal breaker if you think the pictures would look better without them. Totally willing to defer to the real artistic genius here. I just want the pictures to look good, and you’re the only person I trust to make it happen.”

The idea of creative control was enticing enough to seal the deal for him.

“Alright. I’m in. When and where do you need me?”

“We haven’t settled on a specific day or time yet, but probably sometime this weekend. I’ll talk to the guys at lunch and let you know the plan before the end of the day though. I owe you my life for this. Seriously.”

With that, Eddie was racing off down the hall leaving Jonathan to try and come up with a way to make heavy metal Christmas cards into something appropriate for any of his photography class assignments.

That Saturday afternoon, Jonathan met up with the guys outside of the Hideout. The plan was to do posed photos outside and then go inside to take a few pictures of them playing. As long as they stayed focused on getting the shots they wanted, they'd be done in time for that promised dinner at Benny's.

He didn't think it would take too long, but then again, he didn't really know what working with Eddie would be like. The guy was all over him, and it was more than a little distraction. Eddie just had so many questions about his process, and he wanted to look through the camera and get an idea of what Jonathan was seeing. Or, if he wasn't asking questions, he was touching him. Adjusting a twisted camera strap, placing a hand on Jonathan's back as he leaned in the eye the proposed shot, poking at him to get his attention, grabbing at his arm to pull him over to any place he thought they could get a good photo. If Jonathan didn't know any better, he would've thought that Eddie was into him.

“Come on, Eddie,” he said as he tried to get him to pose properly for what he thought might be their last shot. “Quit it with whatever that brooding, tortured artist look is. You said you wanted something goofy, not sexy.”

“So you think I'm sexy?” Eddie asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Jonathan could feel his face burning.

“Just let me take the picture.”

He snapped a couple more photos in quick succession before putting the lens cap back on his camera.

“I think I got everything you guys wanted out here. Let's take a ten minute break, and then we can set up for the performance shots.”

Jonathan headed inside for a moment alone, but he'd barely sat down before Gareth was joining him at his table.

“You know we didn't need to hire you for this, right?” he started. “Jeff's parents own that hobby shop downtown, and his mom would have lent us a camera for free if we promised not to smash it. A fancy one with a timer so we wouldn't have even needed a photographer to get this done.”

“If that's the case, why am I here?”

“You haven't figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

“You really have no idea. He's about as subtle as a heart attack, and you still don't know.”

“Can you please fill me in so I can make even a little bit of sense of what you're saying?”

“Eddie wanted you to do this so he'd have an excuse to spend time with you and get to know you a little better.”

“And he was willing to pay me twenty bucks for the opportunity?”

“Well, yeah. When he's that into someone, he loses all sense of logic and reason. Even more so than usual.”

Jonathan was stunned speechless. Eddie was into him? Suddenly all of his badgering made sense, and when he really stopped to think about it, the badgering wasn't unwelcome. If he wasn't in the middle of lining up a shot, he could see himself enjoying what was apparently Eddie's attempt at flirting.

“So, why doesn't he just ask me out? It would probably be cheaper than paying me to be your band's personal photographer.”

“He's afraid that you'd say no which I think is stupid because it's obvious how much he gets under your skin.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Dude. Your entire face looked like a tomato after you accidentally called him sexy. Pretty sure that was your subconscious telling you that you're into him, too.”

Jonathan didn't know what to say. Before he'd asked him to do this, he didn't realize Eddie even knew who he was, and now he was facing the very real possibility that he could maybe be into Eddie, too.

“Look," Gareth started. "You don't have to say anything to me or him or anybody. But, if you wanted, I could make something happen. All I ask is that you do a small favor for me.”

“Name it.”

“Put in a good word for me with Nancy?” he asked. “I find her beautiful and terrifying.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

Gareth stood up from his seat and smiled at Jonathan.

“It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

Their break ended shortly after that, and Jonatham took a series of photos of them playing through two different songs so he could get a variety of different angles for each member of the band. Once he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, he motioned for the band to stop.

“I'm pretty sure I just used up the last of the film you guys brought, so we can call it here. I'll develop everything when I have access to the photo lab on Monday and get the prints to you as soon as possible.”

“We're done?” Eddie sounded more than a little disappointed and he crossed over to where Jonathan was loading his camera back into his bag.

“I think so. But I remember being promised dinner at Benny's as part of my payment, so we could head there now if you want.”

“Definitely. We just need to load up our stuff, and then we can all head out.”

“Actually, the guys and I have a thing,” Gareth said. “And we can't get out of it, so you guys are gonna have to go by yourselves.”

“What thing?” Jeff asked. “We don't have a-”

He was cut off from finishing his sentence by Gareth smacking his arm and pointedly looking back and forth between him and where Eddie was standing with Jonathan.

“Oh! Right!” Jeff said after the realization hit. “That thing. So sad we can't make it.”

“You crazy kids have fun without us!” Gareth said as he ushered the other two bandmates out of the bar.

“I'm going to kill him,” Eddie muttered under his breath, making Jonathan huff out a laugh.

“No, you're not.”

“Oh, but I am. I'm already drafting up posters advertising our need for a new drummer.”

“Go easy on him. He just did you a massive favor.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest.

“How do you figure?”

“He just got you a date with the guy you've been shamelessly flirting with all day.”

Eddie's jaw dropped. He definitely wasn't expecting that response from him.

“I'm pretty sure the guys just left without loading their stuff into the van, so pick your jaw off the floor and let me help you get that taken care of. Then you can flirt with me some more.”

Eddie changed his mind. He wasn't killing Gareth. He was gonna owe him for the rest of his life for helping him earn a date with Jonathan Byers.

[the-mellow-drama]

My first drabble

it's a bit long, 1.2k words, but here you go. also on AO3 if you prefer that formatting

slightly nsfw, semi-public fingering, suggestive content

The buzzing goes off, like every morning, and I sit up as the sheets fall to my lap. The sun is just streaming in through the gauzy white curtains, and I crane my neck the other way, taking in my wife as she sleeps beside me.

Hermione.

The sheets are crumpled, wrinkly from our actions the night before and I smile at the memory. She lies on her back, the black sheets dipping across her back, exposing the skin stretched over her ribs. Her curly hair falls around her face and I shove it away, taking in her glow. 

Gods, I’m lucky.

I find my trunks from last night, sliding them up over my hips. I step over to the expansive closet, slipping on a button-down and grabbing one she can wear when she wakes up. I lay it on the edge of the bed, delicately kiss her cheek, and slip into the bathroom with a clean pair of dress pants.

By the time I leave the bathroom, Hermione is awake, looking bleary-eyed and beautiful. A lazy smile crosses her face and I can’t help but walk around to her side of the bed and fall onto her exposed lap. 

“Good morning, baby,” she whispers, coming my hair back from my face and I stare up at her, taking a deep breath. I kiss her stomach, and then slightly lower, smirking at her sharp inhale before pulling away.

“I have a meeting that starts in 10 minutes,” I say and she frowns. I chuckle before grabbing the white dress shirt I pulled for her and her bra from the floor.

Black lace. My favorite.

I clasp the bra in the front, groaning at the sight of her breasts practically spilling from the cups and I slide the dress shirt on her so that I don’t skip my meeting and tie her down to the bed. I slowly do up the buttons, kissing along her skin and I skip the last two buttons, kissing up her throat before capturing her lips.

“I gotta go baby, but I’ll be back later, okay? Take it easy today,” I say and it’s more of a commandment than anything but she nods as if she has a choice. 

I grab my gun, the last thing I need before taking one last look at her in all her glory.

“Draco, I love you,” she says and I smile again before stepping out and closing the door. 

I walk along the halls, the swanky apartment of no interest to me anymore. I bought the building after Hermione expressed interesting in renting the penthouse while she finished out her English degree. It’s two years later and I am itching to move on.

Perhaps I could buy a boat?

The thought it laid aside in my mind as I open the sliding door to my office, a dark room with a long table, filled with my associates. I meet everyone’s gaze, always tracking and assessing their every move. I want to trust them.

But I don’t. I hope they know this. 

I sit down and everyone is silent, waiting for me to speak.

“There’s someone I need you to find, Blaise,” I finally speak and he looks up, uninterested. He’s always been my go-to guy when it came to disposing of someone, his ability to keep cool and calm a very useful asset to have.

“Who?” He drawls nad my face screws up in disgust.

“Adrian Pucey. He was hitting on my wife, and I don’t think I like him much.” I say and Blaise nods, getting up and leaving. He murmurs something to someone out in the hallway and my ears pique up at the sound of Hermione’s voice.

She doesn’t normally join us for meetings; Hermione knows what I do, I practically told her on the first date but she just smiled and carried on with the conversation. When the door opens again, and she walks in wearing the button up shirt and little else, I scowl at everyone at the table in warning.

Do not fucking look at my wife. They all avert their gaze and I turn my head, smiling possessively at her. She’s washed her face nad brushed her hair, the curls unruly around her face.

She’s beautiful.

And she’s mine.

Hermione is carrying what looks to be her butterfly knife, flipping it around before twirling it once more and closing it up. The action has my cock stirring in my slacks and I pull her to me, her bum resting on the arm of my chair.

“Hello, boys,” she drawls and I can’t help but think that power looks fucking stunning on her. I’d give her whatever she asked for. Just like that. Her fingers comb through my hair and I stifle a groan, my head tipping back in pleasure. 

Someone clears their throat and Hermione smiles before looking down at me. “There’s someone I want you to find for me, baby,” she says and I nod, almost too eagerly. “Pucey. I’d like you to bring him to me. I want to have a few words with him.”

I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer, urging her to duck her head down. “Blaise is handling it, love. You’ll have him by the night is over, I suspect.” She smiles and stands in delight. 

“Don’t be much longer, darling,” Hermione says, lips brushing against the shell of my air. My hand falls to her thigh, her back to the rest of the people in the room and I slide my fingers up, up…to find nothing. 

No knickers, no fabric. Just her cunt, almost dripping down her thigh. I smirk up at her, brush my figners along her clit just once. She shivers and I bite my lip before slowly pushing my middle finger into her, and then my index, pumping once and then twice before pulling out. 

Her fingers wrap around my wrist and she sucks my fingers into her mouth, eyes fluttering shut. Her tongue lauves against the tips of my fingers and she pulls them out with a wet pop.

A cloth napkin wrests in my lap and for the life of me, I can’t remember why but I dry my fingers off before looking back up at her. 

 “I’m almost finished. Go wait for me.” I command and she runs out of the room.

The rest of my team is staring at me, some smirking, others looking less than pleased but I can’t find it in my to really care. 

“Back to work gentleman,” I say, standing up after calming down enough that my raging erection is a tad less obvious.

I have a wife to attend to.

[usafphantom2]

The SR 71 retired early due to a few jealous and unfair attitudes. Despite the retrofitting of digital systems and communications links aboard the SR-71s, which allowed them to deliver imagery in near “real-time,” the US Air Force itself recommended the retirement. The backstory is, It was never about money.

I was listening to the “Blackbird SR-71 question and answers” by Terry Pappas. (I highly recommend that you go to Amazon and buy the book; all the profits go to the Wounded Warrior Project)It is also audible, so it’s really easy to listen to while you’re on your computer or your tablet. One of the questions that really caught my attention was Why did they retire the Blackbird when there was still nothing faster? A. It was reported by Habu’s working at the Pentagon, who personally briefed him that the US Air Force Chief of Staff General Larry Welch hated the Blackbird program. He had a running battle throughout his career with Jerry O’Malley. ( I knew Jerry O’Malley; he was a charming and personable man). O’Malley was a former SR-71 pilot and Wing commander of the SR-71s, who many people felt was in line to be the Air Force Chief of Staff. Jerry and his wife Diane were tragically killed in a plane crash in April 1985. Everyone loved Jerry and Diane. I can’t think of a finer couple in the Air Force than Jerry and Diane O’Malley. His untimely death opened the door for Larry Welch to assume top position at the United States Air Force.

General Welch showed his disdain for the memory of General O’Malley by having O’Malley‘s picture removed and placed at the other end of the Pentagon hallway, presumably so Welsh wouldn’t have to see it daily!! Horrible! Let me ask you, what kind of a man does that? Welch was given a VIP ride in the SR 71. I think that made him even more jealous that the SR-71 was one of the airplanes he was NOT chosen to fly. You might not know that he (Welch) was turned down when he applied for program as a Capt. because he was incompetent as a pilot, and it was documented. He went to the command post and, from there, politicked his way up. I didn’t fly him on that flight, but I doubt he ever touched the flight controls. A respected SR 71 pilot said this.

Ben Rich also talks about Welch in his 1990 book.

“General Larry Welch, the Air Force chief of staff, staged a one-man campaign on Capitol Hill to kill the program entirely,” Ben Rich wrote in his memoirs. “General Welch thought sophisticated spy satellites made the SR-71 a disposable luxury. Welch had headed the Strategic Air Command and was partial to its priorities. He wanted to use SR-71 refurbishment funding to develop the B-2 bomber. Columnist Rowland Evans said, ‘The Blackbird can’t fire a gun and doesn’t carry a bomb, and I don’t want it.’ Then the General went on the Hill and claimed to certain powerful committee chairmen that he could operate a Wing of fifteen to twenty (F-15E) fighter-bombers with what it cost him to fly a single SR-71. That claim was bogus. So were claims by SAC generals that the SR-71 cost $400 million annually to run. The actual cost was about $260 million.” Another lie was that there was something like the SR 71 that they had in the works and it just wasn’t ready yet. We have been waiting for SR 71 replacement for 23 years!

Both Welch and SAC commander General John Chain testified and lied before Congress that the SR-71 should go, and so it did.

As Rich so aptly reflected, “A general would always prefer commanding a large fleet of conventional fighters or bombers that provides high visibility and glory. By contrast, buying into Blackbird would mean deep secrecy, small numbers, and no limelight.

We need more Generals like Jerry O’Malley what a great man he was. I do get emotional about this subject as it was my own father, Butch Sheffield, who campaign with the leader of the Skunk Works, Ben Rich to reinstate the SR -71 after it was retired.

Written by Linda Sheffield Mille

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I know $60 for dog medicine isn’t insane, but dang, this is bad timing.

I am exactly one week from the little comic convention that’s my only chance of fun for the year, and the roller coaster of will I or won’t I get to go is driving me nuts!

One day I get a gift from an online friend (Thanks again!) that makes me sure I can go, the next day I have a problem with one of the dogs and then I am back to not knowing if I can afford to go!

It’s funny (pathetic) really. The con is only 50 miles away and admission is cheap. Most people would find it a no brainer to go, especially when it’s your only social activity/recreation of the entire year.

But then most people have “disposable income”.

I ain’t got any income at all, and not one penny I have is disposable! LOL

You know though, I have been so busy surviving, doing things because I have to do them rather than because I want to do them, that I deserve a day “off”. I feel guilty saying it, but I kinda think it’s true. One day a year doing something for myself shouldn’t feel shameful, for crying out loud!

I know you are saying, well just spend a day at home lounging about reading or something. That’s free! But the simple fact is, if I am at home I will HAVE to be useful. After half an hour flopped I will feel guilty and end up trying to repair the sink or out cutting brush or something for a few hours. To actually take a break I need to go somewhere else.

Next Saturday will I be afford to take a day (or 9 hrs of it) for me? Who knows!!!

I hope I can decide after Thursday. That day I’ll check the bank account, do the shopping for the month, and buy gas**. If I have enough money left then, I’ll just have to cross my fingers crossed nothing else goes wrong before Saturday.

Of course, if I do get to go, and with the money already used on shopping, I’ll have to spend the rest of the month with my fingers crossed I don’t need more until September. My fingers are going to get soooo sore! LOL

**Weird it isn’t pinging at me yet, even though it’s fallen below the last mark on it’s way to the dreaded E. It always pinged before!

[juryandkia]

The Filipino Uniform

A crop top and skinny jeans for girls and a Penshoppe shirt and shorts for boys, or something close enough. The Filipino Uniform. I’ve noticed that trend since I was a child, a trend in which all of us have fallen victim for. As my style developed throughout the years, I grew to despise that “uniform”. I express so much of myself through my fashion sense and style and most people in our poverty-striken country wouldn’t really acknowledge or appreciate it, which is understandable but was an unfortunate fact for a fashion girlie like me. What happened to our beautiful culture? I was always envious seeing our neighboring countries wear their traditional attire like Hanfus and Kimonos casually as their everyday attire just to fee la sense of connection to their culture and history.

The history of Filipino fashion is a rich tapestry of cultural influences, reflecting the nation's diverse history and heritage. Early Filipinos wore clothing made from natural materials like cotton, abaca, and piña, often adorned with embellishments such as beads and shells. Spanish colonial rule brought European styles to the Philippines, and traditional Filipino garments like the baro't saya and barong tagalog evolved to incorporate Spanish elements.In the late 19th century, American fashion trends influenced the Philippines, leading to the creation of the terno, which combined American and Filipino dress styles. After gaining independence in 1946, the terno remained popular for women, while the barong tagalog became a national symbol. In recent decades, Filipino fashion has become more eclectic, with Filipinos embracing Western fashion trends while also celebrating their traditional heritage. Unfortunately the rise of fast fashion has significantly changed the course of our fashion history. “Fast fashion” is a term used to describe the production of clothing at a rapid pace in order to meet the latest trends. Despite all of it’s negative consequences (pollution, waste, exploitation of workers, and even child labor!), it has become a global phenomenon especially in places with high levels of poverty where people don’t have much disposable income but still want to be able to wear stylish and trendy clothes. Because fast fashion is affordable and easily accessible, it’s an industry that will remain extremely popular in the foreseeable future. Even though fast fashion causes more harm to our planet than good, we can’t blame people of a lower socioeconomic status for buying cheap clothes. To counter this, we must try to prioritize and remain sustainable by buying secondhand, not shopping excessively, and if we could, shop from ethical sources. Luckily, we have one of many solutions in trying to combat the wasteful nature of fast fashion by buying from ukay-ukay stores!

“Ukay fashion” refers to the practice of wearing pre-owned or thrifted clothing, and it has gained significant popularity in the Philippines, where you can find numerous ukay-ukay shops scattered across neighborhoods. These shops offer a wide range of secondhand clothing, footwear, and accessories at highly affordable prices. The widespread appeal of ukay-ukay in the Philippines can be attributed to several factors. Firstly, it is seen as a sustainable approach to clothing shopping. Purchasing second hand items reduces waste and contributes to environmental conservation. Additionally, ukay-ukay provides an avenue for discovering distinctive and stylish clothing options at a fraction of the cost of brand-new garments. In recent years, the trend of ukay fashion has also found favor in other parts of the world. This surge in popularity can be attributed to various factors, including the rising prices of new clothing, a growing awareness of the fashion industry’s environmental impact, and the increasing trendiness of vintage and retro fashion styles. All of these sound very promising, however, shopping ukay-ukay can have it’s negative consequences too. To name a few: the wear and tear of second-hand clothing, hygiene concerns, the time and effort to find a piece you like, and of course, the inconsistent selection of sizes and styles.

But what steps can we start to take to improve our style? First is to make sure that our clothing fits well and compliments our figure. Clothes that are too tight can restrict our movements and even make us look bigger than we actually are, this is important to remember for people with different body types. Because of this, intentionally oversized clothing is tricky to master. It can either go right or completely wrong, making us look like we’re drowning in fabric or give the illusion that we’re short and shapeless. Second is grooming. Style is more than the clothing that we wear that’s why we need to take everything else into consideration. Our personal hygiene is as important as everything else. Smelling good, having healthy skin, nails, and hair, making sure that the clothes we wear are ironed and washed, and all the other little details can help in the big picture. Third is to explore and experiment. Don’t get stuck on the Filipino Uniform, it’s easy to fall into trends and fads that will look out of style sooner than later. There are tons of blogs, artists, social media apps, aesthetics to get into and get inspired by, you just have to find the one that speaks to you most. Through this, you’ll be able to learn how to color coordinate, mix and match, accessorize, and more. And last but definitely not the least, be confident. Nothing can help an outfit shine more than a bright and confident personality that outshines it. Be yourself and be proud of who you are and what you have to show for it.

Filipino and Fashion - Issuu. (2023, June 28). Issuu; issuu. https://issuu.com/wheninuae/docs/wheninuae_june_2023_issue/s/27199343#:~:text=Local%20designers%20and%20brands%20are,modern%20designs%2C%20and%20global%20trends

Perez, D. (2019, March 16). How Fast Fashion Invaded the Philippines Retail Market. Eco Warrior Princess. https://ecowarriorprincess.net/2019/03/how-fast-fashion-invaded-philippines-retail-market/

Sunnexdesk. (2019, July 20). Fashion appetite vs the environment. SunStar Publishing Inc.; SunStar Publishing Inc. https://www.sunstar.com.ph/davao/weekend/fashion-appetite-vs-the-environment#:~:text=When%20in%20Western%20countries%2C%20consumers,shop%20in%20ukay%2Dukay%20stalls

Williams, E. (2022). Appalling or Advantageous? Exploring the Impacts of Fast Fashion From Environmental, Social, and Economic Perspectives. Journal for Global Business and Community, 13(1). https://doi.org/10.56020/001c.36873

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 153 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: apple cutting.

"Intelligence doesn’t make you less prone to taking on bad ideas, it just makes you better at defending them to other people and to yourself. Smart people can believe some truly ridiculous things, and then deploy all the reason and logic at their disposal to justify them, because a belief doesn’t begin in your mind. It begins in your feelings. Cults are very good at finding you when you’re at your lowest point, when you’re your most emotionally vulnerable. And when you’re at that point it’s astounding what can crawl into your heart and start to fester there." Generally I'd say "intelligent people" are a lot less prone to joining stupid ideas. Especially since we now had a global event, that put this to the test. The Covid pandemic. All those people, of whom I'd have expected to believe stupid shit, did. I personally know no one, who surprised me to suddenly chime in to a conspiracy theory. But a few friends told me they had someone like this in their circle of friends and acquaintances - someone they always deemed smart and stable and suddenly they fell down this hole because they lost something important to them that put them at an emotional low. And then they’ll want to believe that shit that would them get their thing back.

"But that was when I started to properly look at my life, and I really didn’t like what was looking back." Ah yes, getting back to that DMN talk from yesterday's episode. The ability of self-awareness buys us the ticket to depression.

"And I’d always assumed that that was enough to eventually have real success, and for the first 10 years it seemed like I was right. I worked my way up, performed for basically nothing basically every night and got to be pretty successful." Yeah, I know that feeling... I get pretty decent fairly quickly when I latch onto a new interest. Problem is, I stay there. After my initial climb to "better than average" I stagnate and no matter what I do I just won't climb any higher. But I’m surrounded by people who do get farther and I stay just behind. It's frustrating. Doomed to be mediocre forever.

"do you know how much a “pretty successful” comedian makes?" Another line that's featured in the "Jonathan asks you things" video!^^

"Let’s just say I had a full-time office job and was still barely making rent. But between working full-time and gigging full-time I just kept putting off everything else in my life, always so sure the big time was just around the corner. This is the TV spot that gets me noticed, this is the sell-out fringe show that makes me mainstream, this is the deal that actually goes somewhere." Is that still part of the statement or is this just Jonny venting? xD

So Agape apparently means "love", and in Christianity it's meant as the love for god or god's love for humankind. Fits the toxic love theme.

“We formed into a long line, a chain holding hands with Joyce at the very end of it. It stretched from one end of the building to the other. “ When I hear about cult settlements, my mind wanders pretty quickly to Jonestown. And while there's nothing even remotely in common aside from just being a cult, there is one thing, that actually did remind me a bit of Jonestown. The thing about the cult members having to line up for the horrible thing. (If you're not familiar with Jonestown and are planning to look it up, be warned for suicide. Mass murder-suicide. It’s extremely gruesome...)

"Did you ever do that experiment in science class, where you held hands in a line and the teacher passed a very gentle electric shock down through the students" Okay first, what the fuck, no? Second, this is also in the "Jonathan asks you things" video!

JON: "He asked me to." JULIA: "Oh really? You always do what evil books tell you to, do you?" Oh wow... That was a low blow...

JON: "Christ, he was right, I didn’t – didn’t – when did you get so thin?" DAISY: "I’m not, it’s fine." JON: "It’s the Hunt, isn’t it? Without it –" Not submitting to their purpose does eat away at them. And to think that Jon never really as one of the physically fittest people out there..

JON: "Don’t listen to the blood." DAISY: "Listen to the quiet." One of my favorite quotes of TMA <3

@a-mag-a-day

[caparrucia]

Weird Writing questions 15, 16 and 28 please!

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I was taught very early on to not "deface" books at all, mostly because most of the books I read are not mine so no, I do not leave marks on them. And even the ones I do own, I feel weird writing/marking in some way. Instead I write notes in a notebook/word document as I read, and keep a mess of color coded nonsense to organize my thoughts on anything I read.

I'm also 100% aware this is a Me thing and not a Right thing, so no, I absolutely do not judge people who write in books and I think that's cool that they can do that, leave bits and pieces of themselves in it. I love finding annotations in books at the thrift store and they weight a lot in my decision to buy them.

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

Technically speaking, blood. Bear with me: when I was in high school, my last year was spent in a lab, making microscope slides for my grade. I fucked up the blood slide so many time I had dozens of them. The biohazard disposal was not available that week (I know, I know, sorry!) and I didn't want to put them in the case with the success slides, because what if they cross contaminated or, more realistically, what if my entirely stupid idiot self misclassified one and accidentally submitted a dud for grading?

So I stuck them into my books.

So yeah. Microscope slides of my own blood as bookmarks. There you go.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

The old favorites are always Squalo and Izaya for completely different reasons: Squalo is delightful because he's a very frayed, broken straight man in a comedy of errors, and he KNOWS it and he HATES it but it's his own doing, so he's committing. Izaya is just an asshole on a scope that's both ridiculous and intensely grounded to reality and that makes him monstrous in ways that my brain loves de-tangling.

Recently Ardyn has also been a delight, because he's fucked up in very nuanced, very flexible ways and he's a walking cliche waiting to be made into something interesting and good lord, XV, you didn't have to but you did. Thank you.

And then there's Childe.

Childe is going to get ME bitten, I'm sure. I look forward to it! :D

[adventuresinclientservice]

Built to Last

Not knowing an ad’s genesis, I make it a rule to refrain from commenting on it, but there are times when exceptions to the rule are necessary:

Appalled by commercial after commercial appearing on a recent Super Bowl, I didn’t hold back, dismissing the dozens that were dismissible, praising the one  that wasn’t.   

Impressed by the long overdue recognition of my former agency, Ammirati & Puris, I didn’t hold back there either, acknowledging what was great about a shop most everyone considered stellar.  Like other once-great-now-gone firms victimized then extinguished by holding company avarice, Ammirati’s rightly celebrated work endures.

Australia not only has earned a reputation for inventiveness when it comes to films and scripted television drama, they are marvelously iconoclastic when it comes to advertising, best reflected in the spot, “Dumb Ways to Die.” Suspend judgement on the wickedly direct, very unsettling title and watch; you’ll see why Australia is home to some of the best creative work ever.

Given the deep respect I have for Yvon Chouinard and the company he founded, Patagonia, years ago I cited one of the print ads I hold in high regard, recognizing that to this day remains true to the company’s core values.

That makes four examples in nearly 750 posts written over more than 13 years, so I often don’t give in to the need to play the critic, but am reminded of this because Chouinard was in the news recently, this time with a New York Times guest editorial, where he observes: 

“The company I founded turns 50 this year. People ask me how it has managed to stick around so long when the average life span of a corporation is less than 20 years. I tell them it’s been our unrelenting focus on quality, which includes making things that last and that cause the least amount of harm to our planet.”

He observes that critics,

“thought we were crazy for repairing our own gear and urging our customers to buy less. They said our focus on quality would drive up prices and put our products out of reach. “But the naysayers were wrong.”

Then goes on to say,

“Quality is smart business. Even during economic downturns, people don’t stop spending. In our experience, instead of wanting more, they value better.”

Patagonia makes stuff – climbing gear, all-weather apparel, a variety of outdoor equipment – but step back from the items they produce and you see not things, you see values – durability, sustainability, longevity that borders on timeless, unimpeachable, and eternal.

I work in a business that doesn’t make stuff; at its best, it makes ideas; ideas that find their voice in all forms of advertising and marketing, in colleague support when its needed most, in client service at its best, when it solves problems, pursues opportunities, and builds enduring relationships.

It’s a business to which my former advertising agency, Ammirati & Puris, dedicated itself, explaining, in part, the post I wrote about it, in an industry where fewer such shops exist, seemingly losing their sense of mission, vision, and purpose. 

It’s a business to which The Art of Client Service dedicates itself, explaining, in part, why I’ve written three editions over the last 20-plus years, and always am thinking how I can help people get better at what they do.

And it’s the business to which Yvon Chouinard and Patagonia dedicates itself, explaining in part, why it could succeed when predictions said couldn’t.

As Chouinard points out, “the poor can’t afford cheap goods.”  Clients can’t afford cheap advertising either, or short-changed client service, or work that is perishable, disposable, and forgettable, something all of us should keep in mind the next time we search for something cheap, which often means, something not worth whatever you paid for it.

A concluding thought:  “Built to last” is a fitting way to end the year; the next time we connect, it will be 2024.  To repeat what I said in my last post, if you’re traveling to see family or friends, by all means travel safe.

Thursday also is Roberta’s and my 26th wedding anniversary, another thing that’s built to last.  Happy anniversary Honey!  Xoxo mbb