#i only realised when i went onto my email

[notakeyring]

within actual MINUTES of accidentally changing my microsoft password back to a compromised one that i'd used previously

AUSTRALIA CHINA GERMANY I'M MR WORLDWIDE ALL OF A SUDDEN

[pennylanewrites]

teacher’s aide (levi ackerman)

warnings: m!masturbation, voyerism, alcohol, smoking, age gap (15 years), me pushing my smitten!levi agenda

levi ackerman was an esteemed and recognised sociology professor. stern, strict and to the point in all of his lectures. most of his classes kept quiet, trying to take notes while he talked fast and went through powerpoint slides like it was the morning paper.

you had been working hard for that teacher’s aide position for two years, when you finally got the acceptance email. it was no secret on campus that professor ackerman’s assistants worked closely to him and got accepted in prestigious firms right after college, with his recommendation of course.

it was also no secret that professor ackerman was incredibly good-looking. his veiny arms and broad shoulders made up for his short height and the way his raven hair fell over his rectangular seeing glasses was so…

“y/n.” his stern voice shook you out of your thoughts. crap. the whole auditorium was staring at you. “the papers.” was all he said before going back to his laptop. you looked down at your hands, realising you were holding the class’s tests for more than you should. you cleared your throat and went through the auditorium, leaving a stack of papers in front of each student. as you walked down, your eye caught his.

levi noticed everything. he noticed how today you were wearing lipgloss instead of your usual lipstick, he noticed the rip in your tights that went down the back of your leg, your new platform loafers and the beads of sweat on your forehead. levi ackerman was not the kind of man that would catch feelings for a student, but you were so…good.

yes, at first he thought you were very attractive, and maybe that’s why he always rejected your aide application. but he also got to know you better every time you replied to one of his questions. you were the only student brave enough to raise their hand, and he appreciated that. sooner than later, you stayed back every day after class to clean up the mess of loose papers and pens, and before he knew it he was smitten.

maybe it was the way you brushed against him to clean the board and shut the projector, a timid apology escaping your lips, or the way you weren’t afraid to challenge him in a theoretical conversation about archaic philosophy during class.

or maybe…shit, how long have i been staring? levi looked away and cleared his throat when he noticed you trying to contain your smile.

class was over and you were going through your usual routine, marking left over questionnaires from the last lecture as he went through tomorrow’s one.

“sir, i’m wondering about…” you rolled your chair across the auditorium’s stage, holding onto his desk to stop the chair, “this one.” you pointed at a question on the paper.

levi was not one to lose his temper, but he was finding it very hard to contain himself when your knee was touching his and your perfume could reach his brain through his nose.

“well, this-this one…” he trailed off, watched you push your hair off your neck, leaving the bare skin on sight for him. god, he could eat you right then and there.

levi had never been more thankful for his phone to ring in his life. the vice dean’s name flashed on the screen, and you leaned back to allow him to get the device.

“i have to go…meeting…come by my office tonight, okay?” he scrambled to get his things and ran off, leaving you in the empty auditorium.

you let your head fall on your pillow, groaning with despair. he hates me. he can’t even talk to me.

you had seen him earlier with petra, his old t.a who graduated last year. he was laughing, for fuck’s sake. he was laughing and buying her coffee in the campus coffee house, and they were sitting over a book and…

“ugh! what is she even doing here?” you threw your pillow on the floor, but it hit you back in the face.

“oh my god, shut up!” your roommate kept hitting you with the pillow, until you grabbed it. “enough, y/n, please.”

“mikasa, do you think they’re dating?” you sat up on the bed, looking at the girl across you. “be honest, i can take it.”

“i think you’re sick. there’s something seriously wrong with you.” she scrunched her nose up in disgust.

“he’s so…”

“old.”

“mature.”

“he’s mature because he’s old.” your roommate kindly reminded you of your age difference. “get over him, please. even if he liked you, he’s your teacher. i doubt he would put his job in danger.”

your eyes lit up, an excited smile covering your earlier gloom.

“you think he likes me?”

“that’s not what i said. where are you going?”

you only grinned before grabbing your bag and barging out of the dorm room. your shoes squeezed against the polished floors as you made your way to the teachers’ wing, and to the third door to your left, your favourite wooden door in the world.

with a sigh, you lifted your fist to knock, but something made you freeze. you looked around to make sure no one was in the corridor, before pushing your ear against the door.

shit, shit, shit, shit

he was moaning. fucking moaning, in his office, when he had specifically told you to visit him. you thought of the possibility of him having a girl in there, even petra, but no one else could be heard. everything right in your head was telling you to turn around and leave, but your hand was on the doorknob, and you were slowly twisting it.

just one look. one look and i’ll-

your eyes grew wide at the sight. a half empty bottle of bourbon sat next to an empty glass, a cigarette was slowly burning on the ashtray, the first two buttons of his white shirt were undone. god, you could clearly see his nipples through the fabric. the desk obscured your vision, but you could see his hand moving up and down, up and down, up-

“fu-fuuuck.” his voice strained, his head fell back and you were wet a creep.

you turned around and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. looking at your reflection on your phone, you made sure pervert wasn’t written across your forehead, and turned back around.

two soft knocks on the door. levi fixed his hair quickly, buttoned his shirt and put the cigarette out.

“come in.” you entered the room and he looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“long day?” you pointed at the bottle, smiling softly. he chuckled and motioned for you to sit down. “i can come back some other…” you trailed off when he took another glass out, filling it halfway and pushing it towards you.

you fidgeted with a ring on your finger, unsure of what to do.

“i shouldn’t…”

“i won’t tell if you won’t.” he filled his own glass and raised it to you, before taking a sip. you smiled softly, taking a sip of the drink. it burned coming down, just like his gray stare on you did.

“i have the tests marked. that question i was wondering about earlier,” you took the stack of papers out of your bag, leaving them in front of the man.

“yeah, i looked it up. it’s actually-”

“i figured it out.” you cut him off. he raised an eyebrow and put his glasses on, looking down at the marked paper, and the right answer which you had wrote down in red ink.

“you did.” he agreed and looked at you through strands of his raven hair. “good girl.”

you froze. you could feel your whole face turning an ugly shade of red. a million disgusting thoughts ran through your head as he walked around the desk to sit on the chair across from yours. his muscles flexed as he reached over the desk to get the ashtray and his drink. you took a big sip of the drink, trying to convince yourself the sexual tension was just in your head.

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

“what?” he shook you out of your thoughts. he knew you were staring at him.

“nothing. i’ve never seen you like this.” you admitted, still sipping your drink.

“like what?”

like you don’t have a stick up your ass.

“relaxed.” you opted for the nice comment.

“i’m far from relaxed, trust me.” you watched as he placed a cigarette between his wet lips, lighting it with a white lighter.

“those are bad luck.” you took the lighter in your hand, fidgeting with it.

“huh. maybe that’s why my life’s shit.” he chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette.

“come on…” your eyes fell on a book on his desk.

masculine domination, pierre bourdieu. you grinned, taking it in your hands to inspect the front page.

“take it. it’s for my doctorate students, but i think you-”

“i’ve read it.” you closed it and put it back on the pile.

“of course you have. you’re a smart girl, you know?”

he was praising you. and he was filling your glass again. when did you even finish the first?

“are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”

“i think you’re capable of controlling yourself.”

“don’t be so sure.” you mumbled, staring at your feet.

“what was that?”

“nothing!” you shook it off with a smile, but he had heard you just fine.

god, you wanted him so bad. as the hours went by, and the bottle came to its’ end, you became more and more impatient. you were scared of what you would do honestly, if one more drop of alcohol entered your system. but, were you crazy to think he wanted this too? why would he pour you a drink, and ask you all these questions, and make you laugh with stupid jokes if he-

“what are you thinking about?” he shook you out of your thoughts. you showed him the clock on the wall.

“that i should get going. some teacher thought it would be a good idea to have an 8 am class.” you grinned. you reached your hand out to return him his lighter, but you dropped it instead.

“that’s one lousy teacher.” he chuckled, kneeling on the floor to get the lighter. you waited for him to get up, so you could too, but he wouldn’t move. still kneeling, he came closer to you, his hands hesitantly moving to rest on the sides of your thighs.

internally, you were screaming. but not a single breath came out of your mouth as you watched him. he sighed and finally locked eyes with you.

“i’m not crazy, am i?”

“wh-what?” your voice came out as a whisper. pathetic.

“to think there’s something, right? here. there’s something here and i-”

“sir-”

“don’t.” he squeezed your thighs and you swore your heart would jump out your chest sooner or later. he straightened his back and got up, pulling you with him. “don’t call me sir.”

you let him seat you on top of his desk, you let him spread your legs and stand between them. he pushed your hair behind your ear and inched closer. his breath against your neck made you shiver, and a soft kiss forced a small gasp out of your mouth.

your hands trembled as you placed them around his neck, and his breath staggered when you played with the strands of hair that fell on his undercut.

“please kiss me.” he swore his knees would give when he heard your voice, so soft, so sweet. you were as needy for him as he was for you.

his strong hands met your face, his silver ring cooled your burning cheek. you closed your eyes, and his lips finally met yours. it was careful at first, both of you scared the other would change their mind. but all it took was you pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he lost his mind. his hands slipped down to your waist and you arched your back to get closer to him, if that was even possible. your mouth trailed to his jaw, leaving sloppy kisses all the way down his neck. a playful bite made him gasp. you chuckled.

“stop. you’ll drive me crazy.” he squeezed your hip.

“good.” you grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, but his hand in your hair held you back.

“you have to go…” he managed between soft kisses down your chest, at least as far as your shirt allowed, “or i won’t be able to stop.” he held your hands, and kissed them both, maintaining eye contact with you.

“then don’t stop.” you whined, but your grin turned into a frown when he pulled you off the desk and fixed your skirt. “levi-”

“save something for later, right?”

his promise of a later was enough. you left him to clean up and walked out the door with a sheepish smile and a whispered goodnight.

your phone buzzed on your way back to the dorms, and you stopped in your tracks when you saw the name on the screen.

professor ackerman: wear that green dress tomorrow.

you raised an eyebrow.

just the dress.

[luveline]

hiii, can i have a blurb with emily, it can be literally about anything, i miss her and you write her impeccably ✨🥺

thank you ♡

Emily frowns at her computer screen. She's been having a hard time using the new system, and she can't stop batting at the feathered bangs that kiss her eyebrows, an agitated tic. 

She really doesn't like admitting that she can't do things. 

You rifle through your desk drawer. A few weeks ago you'd stopped for throat soothers on the way to work and found a packet of strawberry flavoured mentos at the gas station. I love the strawberry flavour, Emily'd said once, but I don't like any of the other ones. It feels like too much of a waste to buy the bag. 

You bought them. Chickened out on giving them to her. They're still sealed. 

"Hey," you say quietly, careful not to draw the attention of her deskmates. If Spencer or Derek were to witness this, they'd both laugh at you. Everyone knows how you feel except Emily, because isn't that always the way? "Emily?" 

She immediately turns her attention and concern to you, her eyes so dark and pretty it makes you feel sick. "Hey," she says, her voice dulcet, near melodic, "you okay?" 

"I got you these." 

You pass her the box of mentos without fuss. 

Her lips part in shock before melding to a smile that brags the pearl of her teeth. "Oh my god. Where did you find these?" Her gaze flickers between you and her newfound treasure. "How did you–" 

"I remembered, um, when we went to Austin, you," —you look down at her hands— "said you liked only the strawberry ones. So when I saw them I hoped you'd like them."

"Have you ever tried them?"

You rub at the inside of your wrist. "No." 

Emily's chair rattles as she stands, and mentos hit the sides of the box as she breaks the seal with her finger and tips a few into her palm. They're a light pink and smell strongly of strawberry, though there's a subtle coolness to them. 

"Here," she says. "I think you'll like them." 

You take it because she could offer you little tiny rocks and you'd eat them. You'd smile at her with cracked teeth. Emily doesn't realise how much power she has over you (remarkably) nor the effect of her closeness. You press the mento between your lips and she does the same, beaming this beatific, heart-racing smile at you as strawberry pops over your tongue. 

"They're good, right?" she asks, nearly smug. 

You nod quickly. You're not a reliable narrator and you'd say yes no matter what, but something about looking at her makes them sweet. 

"The– the new computer system, it's buggy, right?" you ask. When she looks at you dumbfounded, you correct, "Non responsive. Doesn't wanna listen." 

"Right?" She looks so relieved that it knocks you off kilter. 

"I think I figured out how to get my emails to stay in one place," you say, aiming for casual, barely making the mark. 

"Could you show me how to do that?" 

You sit in her desk chair at her computer and fix her emails to the desktop. The system isn't buggy, but you want her to feel capable. She is capable. Strawberry mentos over your shoulder, her hand resting on the back of her chair, fingertips brushing your back and silky dark hair skimming your shoulder, she's perfect. 

Spencer meets your eye from over the desktop monitors. He, of similar disposition, seems to be commending you on your demeanour with widened eyes and a small nod. 

Derek, on the other hand, taunts. "Is it hot in here?" he asks, fanning himself with his t-shirt. 

Emily leans over your shoulder to grab a case file from her desk, tossing it onto Derek's. "You can fan yourself with that once you've peer reviewed it for me." 

Spencer shakes his head in pity. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Emily asks you, looking down. "Are you hot too? You look flustered." 

"I'm feeling it," Spencer says. 

"Huh. I must be cold blooded," she says under her breath, the exhale tickling your neck. "Weird." 

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

First impressions

main masterlist

older!eddie munson x popstar!reader

note: takes place october 2023

word count: 1 k

Y/N L/N’s voice was a constant in Eddie’s house with his daughter, Isla, being a huge fan. He most likely listened to Y/N’s album more than the singer herself had. And as soon as Y/N L/N had announced her tour Isla had been begging for tickets. And one thing about Eddie is that he would do anything for his little girl, so he patiently waited for when the tickets would go on sale. And when they did, he was busy. Of course.

Eddie, even though he has been out of the limelight for a decade now, he never stopped working in the industry. He now was a producer, and god he loved it, he may have loved it even more than being a recording artist. 

So of course he was working with one of his favourite clients, finishing a song they had been working on for a while now. Working past their set hours of today. 

He had only learned he missed the tickets, completely forgetting it was today, when Isla comes barrelling down the stairs of their New York penthouse.

“Dad! Tickets were today! Did you get us some?” Isla said, hastily, clearing having been waiting hours for her Dad to get home. 

Eddie on the other hand can’t believe he forgot, it’s just been the only thing Isla had been talking about for the last few weeks. He felt awful, he never wanted to disappoint her. So he lied. 

“Of course I did, Sweetie!” What else was he supposed to do? When Isla jumped into his arms in joy, he almost didn’t even feel guilty. Almost, because now he had to think of a way to get himself out of this. 

“Oh, my god! Thank you, Daddy! I have to go tell Jenna!”

As soon as Isla was out of Eddie’s sight, his slime slipped right off his face. He had to jump right into action. Being in the industry helped, but being a legend to the industry helped more. Eddie emailed his team, to try their best to get tickets, spare the cost. When they all came back empty handed, he went onto his next order of business, getting in contact with the woman herself. Now he couldn’t exactly get into contact with her directly, he messaged her team. Which in his opinion was close enough. 

Y/N’s team had responded first thing the next morning, sharing a more than enthusiastic response, saying he and his daughter could even have backstage passes. At that Eddie couldn’t wait to tell Isla, not only would she be going to Y/N’s concert, that would also get to meet her idol.

-

Today was the long awaited day, the day of Y/N’s concert. It wasn’t only Eddie and Isla that were excited for tonight's show, Y/N’s team had told her today that Eddie Munson, a rock legend, and his daughter would be attending her show. Y/N always gets nervous before shows, but knowing that Eddie Munson would be in the crowd and that she would be meeting him after the show, caused an unforeseen amount of worry to form in Y/N’s stomach. 

But as usual all the nervousness and worrying thoughts left as soon as she played the first note of ‘emails i can’t send’ as the concert began.

-

Eddie did not expect to enjoy the concert that much, the music itself wasn’t exactly his style, but it was the presence that Y/N had on stage that captivated him. And it was at this point Eddie realised he had never seen a picture of Y/N before, and god was she gorgeous. She had this beauty that ran deeper than just her looks, her smile redacted warmth and her kindness shown through when she talked to the crowd. 

Eddie naturally felt awkward about his attraction towards her, she was easily 20 years younger than him, his son had a better shot than he did. But that sure as hell didn’t stop the thoughts that came into mind when Y/N sang her more explicit lyrics. 

And with Eddie’s new found attraction towards Y/N, it only made him nervous for their meeting after the show. 

-

Eddie and Isla were currently walking down the hallway they were directed to, with Isla leading the way. And when Y/N came into their view standing at the snack table, drinking a bottle of water, Isla ran up to Y/N not being able to contain her excitement. Eddie in the meantime, having a reaction to seeing Y/N of his own. Eddie froze, his breath caught in his throat.

“Hi! Oh god, I can’t believe I’m meeting you! Can I have a hug?”

“Of course, sweetie. You’re Isla right?” Y/N said, pulling Isla into a tight hug.

“Yes. I can’t believe you know my name.” As Isla was having an existential crisis, Eddie spoke up, finally having the courage.

“Hi, I’m Eddie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yes, you too! My parents love your music.”

“Oh, that aged me.” Eddie joked back, with no real offence in his voice. Though he did place a hand on his heart to seal the deal.

“No! Please, you’re not that old. You’re what 35- 40” Y/N said, looking into Eddie’s eyes, her cheeks spread in a wide smile.

“Now I know you’re kidding.”

“No, really I’m not. How old are you?”

“46.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

While the two had their little back and forth, Isla recovered from her crisis, and watched the two adults that were clearly both into each other. So of course in true Isla fashion, she did everything she could to make her idol, a possible new step-mom.

“He’s single too.” Isla blurted out, she’s never been good with filters.

“Isla-”

“Is he?”

“Oh- I- I’m not- you’re not-” Eddie stutters, not knowing exactly how to respond to that.

“Well, I’m staying in New York for a couple weeks, you could call me?” Y/N says, having no idea where this new found confidence of hers is coming from. But nonetheless runs with it, grabbing a napkin from the snack table the trio was standing by and writing for number on  it before handing it to Eddie.

“Um, I have to now. It was so lovely meeting you Isla, and it was great meeting you Eddie..”

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Hey everyone, welcome to my blurb masterlist !!

This is for the cute little ideas I’ll randomly come up with instead of the one shots that take up a lot of time and energy.

This is for when I have random bursts of creativity!

There will be angst, fluff and sometimes poorly written smut 😭

Word of warning, these blurbs will most likely be under 5k as there only supposed to be short, so enjoy <3

sun, sea and sandy footprints.

in which, it’s your daughters first time at the beach, the sun is shining, the sea is cooling and this is where you realise there’s no place you’d rather be.

family bbq.

in which, with a rare day of sunshine in london, harry and the missus decide to throw a little bbq where all of the close family are invited, drinks are spilled, games a played and memories are created that last a life time.

daddy’s little girl.

in which, harry holding his baby for the first time is everything he had wished for and more.

he knelt to the ground….

in which, you and harry have been together for three years now, and at this point your relationship basically has a third with the amount of times you play taylor around the house, so at the eras concert he surprises you with something you’ll never forget.

the best interruption.

in which, harrys been in his at home office for the majority of the day, and your little one is getting antsy after not spending time with there best friend, so when he’s typing away and answering emails, they stroll into the office, crawling onto his lap.

the finish line.

in which, harrys wife is running the london marathon, having been signed up by her sister in law gemma as a joke and now as she is nearing the finish line, harry is determined to be there to greet her.

airport security.

in which, harry and his daughter madison have a tradition of going on a little father-daughter holiday, they first did it when she was six months old, just before her first birthday and now there doing it just before her second birthday, but today, let’s just say little miss is in a very cranky mood.

in the stars.

in which, harry is remembering you, his beloved wife, mother of his child, that passed away, this is him grieving, remembering the lives that the two of you shared together and will always share together, no matter the circumstances.

sky high.

in which, your an airhostess for british airways, and harry’s been a pilot for british airways for the last four years, and your both working on the same a380 to the big apple.

school pick up.

in which, harrys on school pick up duties for his little one, and it’s his babies favourite time of the day when he sees her best friend, her father standing at the gates.

uncle harry.

in which, after the birth of her baby, you and harry decided to stop by the hospital to see her, where tears fall and memories are created.

boys day out.

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

carribbean privacy.

in which, you and harry decided to go for a little family holiday to start the new year off on the right foot, and went to a caribbean island, where your just trying to enjoy yourselves, and spend some quality time with your two children, when a couple of fans spot your husband.

when the clock strikes midnight.

in which, you and harry broke up just over a year ago, and have not seen each other since, but when your friend invites you to a new years eve party with all your close ones there, the last person you expected to see walk through the door was him.

underneath the tree.

in which, since officially dating harry for a total of eight years now, courting for three, being married for three and parents for two, you’ve both given each other, such wonderful gifts over the years, and here’s a few of them.

do you still love me?

in which, harrys been acting shifty lately, when your looking for a shirt in his wardrobe, he gets hostile, when you say your going to go and shower, he gets hostile and for some reason doubts start to creep into your mind about what he’s been doing, so when you confront him about it, he tells you of his secret all along.

santa’s grotto.

in which, harry takes his two year old son, sebastian, to go and see santa because your at home sick from the flu, but it doesn’t go aswell as he hoped seeing as all little kids appear to have a phobia of the man dressed in red.

i saw mummy kissing santa claus .

in which, when you and harry are putting the christmas presents under the tree on christmas eve, with harry dressed up in a santa costume just for his own novelty, and share a little moment to themselves, unbeknownst to them that there four year old son arlo, was watching the whole time.

daddy’s new hair style.

in which, your fiancé returns home one afternoon, shocking both you and your son milo when he appears to be sporting a new hair cut, neither of you seemed to be prepared for.

pumpkin patch.

in which, you and harry decide to take your son teddy to the pumpkin patch in honour of it finally hitting october, the three of you decide to make a day of things, and let’s just say the day doesn’t exactly turn out how you all expected it, a series of unfortunate events occur and that all starts out with your fiancé getting annoyed that the sat nav isn’t helping him very much.

snack wars.

in which, on this episode of snack wars, we sit down with a certain curly headed lad who goes by the name of harry styles who happens to be comparing british and american snacks.

the terrible twos.

in which, travelling with your husband around europe hasn’t been the most smooth sailing, especially when your daughters currently experiencing her terrible twos.

sick on tour.

in which, touring europe was meant to be a fun thing to do as a family, but when your toddler suddenly developes a sickness bug, you watch with fond eyes as your husband takes care of your little one, nursing them back to full health.

london experiences.

in which, whilst walking around the streets of london with your fiancé harry and two year old daughter mila whose currently getting her molars growing in, things appear to be going swell until a fan asks for a photo and your little one has to be disturbed.

broken ankle, karma rules.

in which, going on a run with your fiancé of two years means harmless flirting and teasing, that is until an incident occurs and he has to carry you back to the car.

jealous baby styles.

in which, five days ago, you and harry welcomed another little baby into the world, but the blissful baby bubble isn’t all it turns out to be when you have a toddler as well.

airport chaos.

in which, harry’s just finished his show in barcelona, and is en-route to madrid, but there’s one more hurdle that needs to be jumped when fans bombard him, you and your one year old son finley. this results in a very agitated harry, a tearful toddler and a wife that’s claustrophobic.

like father like son.

in which, in 2018, you and your fiancé harry welcomed a little baby boy into the world, and his name was sammy. him and his father were exact replicas of each other, same brown tousled curls, forest green orbs, matching dimples and bunny teeth, harry jr. loves everything to do with his father, wherever he went, he wasn’t far behind.

the box.

in which, your husband is ready to go on stage for fifteen out of fifteen nights at the kia forum, and the crew team come up with a way for him to get to the stage unnoticed, but his three year old daughter wants to get involved as-well.

the bath tub.

in which, your looking for your husband backstage at his concert, and get directed by a crew member that he’s in his dressing room. things get heated the second you walk into the room, and there’s nothing like a quick quickie in the bathtub.

styles on the reins.

in which, harry’s looking after his two year old son, parker whilst you go out with your aunt, so they decide to go on a walk around the small streets of italy where your currently residing, but that’s easier said then done when the little one is just as feral as his father.

a helping hand.

in which, your six months pregnant, your sweaty, ankles are swollen and your nauseous all the time, getting on the boat was a slightly easy task, but the task of getting off the boat is a lot harder, but luckily your husband is there to help you.

wedding day blues.

in which, it’s your and your fiancés wedding day, getting married in the garden of your shared italian villa, surrounded by your close friends and loved ones, but you can’t help but let the nerves get to you.

tired baby styles.

in which, you, harry and your one and a half year old son, elliott are holidaying in spain, where your little one won’t go down for his afternoon nap, so your boyfriend comes up with an idea to get him to doze off.

your blue birds.

in which, whilst your at home dealing with your sickness bug, harry takes the little one to the stadium with him so he’s out of your hair, that’s where you get sent a photo of them that makes you feel ten times better.

[insomniac4000]

Hello! May I request a ff about chrizzMD where y/n participated in the 20v1 and everything kept going wrong for her but somehow she managed to win or something like that? Thank you very much x

I really enjoyed writing this. If anyone wants a sequel with their first date let me know

20vs1 ChrisMD

When Y/N saw the tweet that the one, the only ChrisMD was taking applications for a football themed 20v1 she immediately thought about entering. She had a following, it wasn't huge by any means, about 75k subscribers where she did book reviews and some travel to different destinations and attractions like odd museums, places off the beaten path. It was enough to make a living and that was enough for her, knowing not everyone achieves major success but she could do what she loved and paid the bills so she liked her life.

One of y/n's worst personality traits was her indecisiveness, she liked the thought of doing the video, it could be fun and of course she thought Chris was a very attractive man but on the other hand what if she made a fool out of herself? She went back and forth about this for days, it was her friends who eventually convinced her it would be a good opportunity. It was only when she had filled in the application and sent it off that she realised she was one day over the deadline.

“Fuck,” she said to herself when she read the line again and cursed her indecisiveness again. She pushed it all to the back of her mind however and once again just concentrated on her content, using a random number generator to chose the order of the five books she had just purchased to review.

To her surprise one day y/n received an email to the account she used for professional matters, when she looked at the address of the person who sent it her heartbeat quickened, she could feel it beating hard through her chest, it was from ChrisMD. She went to click on it quickly and in her haste clicked on the one wrong email at first, but she found the right link and read the words, trying to keep calm.

Dear y/n Thank you for your interest in the latest 20v1 video. We had more applications than we thought so firstly we would like to thank you for your patience while we went through them all. We didn’t expect the response we received and are sad we cannot have everyone in the video we would like to. However we would love to have you participate in the video, please respond to this email if you are free to film next week Thursday and we will give you further information and instructions. ChrisMD and his team.

The message was professional and a little cooperate but y/n had to real in her excitement, this was a video for content and Chris probably wasn’t truly looking for love in a video, then again who knows what would happen.

The day of the shoot y/n was incredibly nervous. She walked onto the pitch and met all of the other girls, Chris’s producer Jamie introduced himself to everyone and explained what was going to happen for the first round. The weather wasn’t great, it was grey and cloudy which wasn’t too unusual for London, everyone just hoped it wouldn’t start to rain.

“Oh my God there’s Chris!” A girl with an American accent enthusiastically shouted, y/n looked over and there was the small curly haired man, taking a seat next to Calfreezy and ArthurTV. Y/N had to admit that although she did find Chris attractive he was much, much more attractive in person than he was in photos, he seemed quite relaxed as he laughed at something Arthur had said. The girls were all lined up, y/n was firmly in the middle of the pack.

The first challenge was to go up and introduce yourself, you were to say a pick up line and then try and score a goal. Y/N watched on as she saw her fellow competitors go bye and soon enough it was her turn.

“Okay Chris next up this is y/n,” Jamie said off camera knowing this would be edited out of the video, the girl walked in front of the table and had a small nervous smile on her lips.

“Hello y/n how are you?” Chris asked smiling and nodding at the girl in front of him. She smiled and swept her hand through her high ponytail.

“I’m good how are you guys?” Her voice came out a little more high pitched than usual but at least it wasn’t shaky.

“Good thanks, so when you’re ready.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again wearing my Arsenal Jersey?” Y/N said, and Chris laughed a little bit, ArthurTV however wasn’t as impressed.

“Then why didn’t you just wear an Arsenal top?” The brunette asked, a confused yes slightly mischievous look on his face.

“Actually yeah!” Chris laughed along with his friend. Y/N looked down at her England top and panicked slightly, fumbling over her words.

“It’s the Euro’s I’m being patriotic,” she replied hurried.

“Fair enough, kick the ball when you’re ready.” Chris could tell the poor girl was really nervous, he had gone through all of the applications and knew a small bit about all of the girls there, he knew this wasn’t the usual type of content y/n was used to so understood her nerves, he wanted to make sure at least the girls all had a great time regardless. Y/N took a deep breath before running up to the ball, kicking it with her right foot she looked and put her hands on each of her cheeks when she saw it slam into the post on the right hand side.

“Unlucky! But you seem really sweet so I’m going to put you through to the next round,” Chris said, his hands clapped together in his usual way whenever he spoke in videos.

“Thanks!” Y/N replied and skipped a little when she went back to the waiting area to watch the rest of the girls.

The next segment was taking free kicks. Something y/n wasn’t looking forward to too much, she wasn’t much as footballer, she instead used to do dance and gymnastics when she was younger so the complete opposite end of the spectrum to football.

“Any tips?” Y/N as she placed the ball in the spot. “Just run up and follow through with your foot, like one swift movement,” Chris coached y/n nodded before muttering to herself. “I’m going to hit someone,” when the eventual video was released this utterance was clipped three times, which could only mean that her foresight was unfortunately correct. She had a good run up but looked in horror as the ball span and landed straight into Arthur’s face.

“OH MY GOD I AM SO SO SORRY!!!!” Y/N exclaimed through her hands which were over her mouth in shock. Both Chris and Freezy of course found this hilarious and Chris couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of his friend now rolling around on the floor.

“I am really am sorry,” the girl said over and over again as she walked over to the injured party.

“That was amazing, for nearly decapitating ArthurTV you’re through,” Chris stated clapping his hands in amusement.

“This is going to go on the shorts channel isn’t it?” Y/N replied blushing as she walked away, causing further laughs from Chris and Freezy. Round three was a talent round. Instead of doing something she did usually y/n decided to learn a new skill, she had spent hours and hours learning to juggle.

“Oh no she’s got more boys, quick everyone duck!” Arthur joked when y/n walked up.

“I’ll stand far away enough so no one should get hurt this time,” the girl explained. She started off well, juggling the three red balls with ease, that was until she dropped them, cursing as she did.

“At least I didn’t hit anyone this time,” she said sheepishly.

“You know what, I’m going to put you through to the final round,” Chris said with a smug smile on his face, y/n was as shocked as anyone and thanked Chris before calming herself. The last portion was a chat with Chris, Arthur and Cal. Y/N sat down saying hello again.

“So, you hit the bar, hit Arthur in the face, dropped your balls and you’re still here,” Cal started off the conversation.

“I know I can’t believe it!”

“He must really want to shag you,” Arthur added and the girl sat there open mouthed and Chris places his head in his head.

“Fuck sake,” the curly haired man uttered.

“I have had a shocker though, and I was late getting my application in. I must seem really scatty but I promise I’m organised,” y/n defended herself and Chris nodded.

“Give me some book recommendations,” Chris asked looking into y/n’s eyes. They were green with flakes of brown throughout, Chris loved how unique they looked.

“The ministry of time is a great escapism if that’s the kind of thing you’re looking for,”

“I am always looking to escape the intrusive thoughts,” Chris revealed and y/n couldn’t help but agree while feeling her heart a little.

“I get that too, but books are a great escape.” The talk they had wasn’t too humorous but it was deep and real and meaningful, as much as a five minute conversation could be. The final girls lines up, the three hosts looking over towards the two finalists. Chris had his hands clasped together as he faced the women.

“Well it’s been a fierce competition and you both did amazingly well but my winner and unfortunately a date with me is, y/n! congratulations!” Y/N smiled in shock and hugged her opponent. She ten made her way over to Chris and for the video they held hands and looked back towards the camera but both y/n and Chris felt a little thump when their hands intertwined. After the shoot y/n held back at Chris’s request, he had his phone in his hand and a sweet smile on his face.

“Thank you so much for coming. I know it was a video but if you did want to go on that date for real then I’ll be happy to,” Chris asked a little shaky. Y/N smiled and nodded.

“I’d love to.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt - Ticket

@jegulus-microfic December 29 Word count 671

“Where’s my ticket?” James grumbled as he scrolled through hundreds of emails, trying to find it. He kept every single email he ever got. It drove Remus mad. “I swear it was so much easier when they sent you an actual real-life ticket.” He was still grumbling at his phone.

“It was only easier for you, James because they got sent to me, so you never had to worry where you put it. Honestly, if you’d had them we’d never have gone to any concerts.” Remus huffed. 

James was still scrolling, only half listening to Remus. Remus had had enough. He plucked James’s phone out of his hand and used the search option in the email app. “There you go, and I’ve sent it over to my account as well and taken a screenshot of it. You have zero way of losing it now.” Remus looked up, “Though knowing you, you’ll still manage.” James chuckled fondly.

“Yeah, yeah. You love me, I know. Right, are we ready then?”

Remus grabbed James’s keys and wallet and locked up the flat before they set off for the bus stop. 

It didn’t take them long to get to the venue. They were seeing a relatively new band, Fighting the Stars.

They somehow managed to get stood at the front of the crowd, almost touching the stage. 

The band emerged from the sides, and the plinks and bangs of instrument checks started. Then, a long-haired, skinny man walked to the microphone. Remus let out a small gasp. 

“Hello,” He said, his voice silky and smooth. “I’m Sirius, and this,” He gestured to the man with the guitar standing in shadow. “Is my brother Regulus, and we,” He swung his arms to show the rest of the band. “Are Fighting the Stars!”

They started playing. They were good, really good. James was bobbing along and enjoying the dramatic movements of Sirius as he belted out the lyrics. He turned to Remus to see what he thought. But he was stood still, his eyes locked on Sirius, enchanted.

James rolled his eyes and went back to watching the stage. Sirius had pulled the mic out of the stand and was trying to drag his brother forward. There was a slight scuffle between them. Neither missed a word or a chord, but in the end, Sirius won. Regulus wandered into the light. James felt his jaw drop. He didn’t think it was a real thing, just something films did to the main characters. But it happened. 

Regulus caught him staring. He raised his eyebrows and gave him a little knowing smirk before winking at him. 

James and Remus spent the rest of the set spellbound, unable to move. 

Sirius called goodnight to the crowd as the band walked off stage. James and Remus’s heads followed the brothers until they were out of sight. They both let out a huff of air like they’d forgotten to breathe. 

“Well, that was something,” James murmured. Remus couldn’t talk at all and just nodded. 

Before they could say anything else, Sirius’s head popped back around the curtain. He looked right at Remus, waved and beckoned him over. Remus turned to James and shrugged his shoulders before scrambling up onto the stage and disappearing with Sirius. 

James looked at the shadowy exit Remus left through, hoping, then sighed and pulled out his phone to text Remus that he was going home. When he looked back up, Regulus was watching him, barely visible. He didn’t come out past the curtain as Sirius had. James felt his heart skip a beat. Yet another film moment he hadn’t realised was real. 

Regulus crooked one finger at him. As though an invisible line was attached to his navel tugging him forward and towards the waiting Regulus, he started walking. 

Oh well, he thought, I couldn’t have gone home anyway. Remus has my keys.

He followed Regulus into the back. He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad idea, but he was doing it anyway.  

[the-archangel]

Are Friends Electric?

Kerry and V have had a row, don't blame me it wasn't my fault :D

Misty is worried, it’s almost three hours ago now that V had taken the elevator to the roof. This wasn’t unusual in itself as he often went up there to spend time with his thoughts, but this time he’d bypassed the store, presumably to avoid a conversation, Misty only knew he was up there because she’d seen the flash of his currently blue hair on the way past and then heard the hum soon after as the elevator made its way to the top of the building.

He’d seemed better, more stable lately. The operation had affected him mentally more than anything else, months of physical therapy had helped him walk again and build up enough stamina to start to go back to training, but his absolute refusal to talk about what happened to anyone but Kerry had been a worry, even to the Rockerboy himself.

She respected that he didn’t want to talk, he had a lot going on and found it hard to articulate, sometimes making him embarrassed and angry, but he’d gone up a long time now and Misty knew that it wasn’t long ago he’d been up there with a pill and a gun weighing up his options. Locking the door, she makes her way up to the roof.

-

Slouched on the grubby white garden chair V cuts a pathetic figure, a bottle in one hand and a cigarette almost burnt down to his fingers in the other. Misty sighs with relief, she’d expected worse although she’s only now realising it. Kneeling quietly in front of him she flicks the cig from his fingers and places the three-quarters empty bottle onto the floor gently shaking his knee to bring his attention around.

Now he lifts his head the tear tracks are evident, the redness of his eyes would have given him away regardless, the smudges on his cheeks seem to have come from wiping his eyes with bloodied knuckles.

“Who came off worse, you or the wall?” she asks him with a half-smile.

V sniffs loudly and just manages to look her in the eye, “Wall’s fucked, serves it right.”

Although now smiling, V is clearly very troubled, the smile only serving to make him look somewhat unhinged.

“Wanna talk about it?”

A non-committal shrug seems to be the best she’s going to get for now.

-

V had been is a stormy mood for the best part of a week, at first Kerry had tried to talk him around and get to the bottom of it, but he was being met with a brick wall every time and if he’s honest he has other shit going on that demands his attention so he’d reluctantly backed off and waited for whatever this was to burn itself out.

Louise is after more cash, holding the kids to ransom once again. Even though they’re grown she still has complete control, how had he not noticed what a controlling bitch she was until it was too late? Kerry is hunched over the laptop in V’s office trying to compose an email with the right balance of ‘Stop being a cunt’ and ‘Get fucked’ when the ex-merc storms in and swings Kerry’s chair around to face him, only just stopping short of giving the other man whiplash.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he spits indicating the overnight bag which Kerry has placed on the floor next to the elevator.

Kerry is taken aback but tries to keep his tone light, “I’ve got a two-day promo thing in Texas, I reminded you yesterday and it’s been on the calendar for weeks.”

“You’re leaving? Now? You can’t be fucking serious.” V has now taken to wildly gesticulating and pacing the room. “You can’t leave now.”

It was pleading more than threatening, but Kerry is still concerned. “I’ve got to babe, but I’ll be back Friday. We’ll go somewhere fancy for dinner when I get back, how ‘bout that?”

“You think throwing your cash around in an over-priced shithole is going to make this better? Fuck you Kerry, you have no idea what I’m going through, you’ve hardly even spoken to me in days.”

“I’ve tried talking to you and it’s hardly my fault that you never check the fucking calendar. Maybe a couple of days apart will do us good.”

Kerry is as stunned as V is when the words spill out of his mouth. The anger and hurt in V’s simmering gaze is more than Kerry can bear, but before he can try to explain or apologise the other man has stormed back through the door and Kerry winces on behalf of the lounge wall that has just been tastefully redesigned by V’s formidable fists. He sits with his fingers woven together and his head bowed for several minutes until the soft hiss of the elevator doors opening indicates that he is alone in the apartment and he goes to survey the damage.

-

That was yesterday morning, since then V has been going from bar to bar, getting into trouble and fitfully sleeping in a doorway, he can’t remember a lot of it, but as the anger receded and a deep sadness began to set in, he knew he needed to be here on the rooftop, alone with his thoughts. He finds some comfort in this place, feels close to Jackie and to Johnny, he talks out loud to them sometimes even though they’re gone, but he’s pleased that Misty is here now, his thoughts were getting darker and he was struggling to work up the enthusiasm to leave at all.

Misty moves to the other chair and hooks V’s pinky finger with her own sitting quietly looking out over the City and letting him get it all out in his own time. He tells her about the argument, about being hurt by what Kerry said, about being in a dark place right now and not feeling supported and she listens, nods and tightens the grip on his finger.

“Why do you think Kerry said what he said V?” Misty asks.

V bites back his first reaction and thinks for a moment before answering, “I’ve been a bit of a dick I guess, kicking off at the smallest things, chewing his ear off while he’s trying to work. No one else understands though, what it’s like to…” V stops and sighs.

“…be without Johnny?”

“Yeah, I guess. But he’s given up on me, just left me to work through it by myself, thing is I’m not sure I can.” V gazes sadly out over Night City, neon blurred by the tears returning to his eyes.

Misty puts her hand on his arm and turns to look him in the eye. “It’s a lot, what you went through, you’re struggling and that’s fine, but Kerry’s struggling too. He’s got his own demons, now he’s got yours as well, he’s doing his best but he’s out of his depth. There’s no shame in talking to a professional, someone who can unpick what you went through and set you back on a more positive path.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, but he was going to leave, today of all days he was going to leave me by myself and fuck off to Texas.”

“Does he know why today is important to you?” Misty has half guessed why, but needs V to confirm her suspicions.

“He should!”

“Now V that’s not what I asked…”

“OK, maybe not, but he should.”

-

Last year around this time V’s mood swings had been put down to the medication he was on, they were still changing it up every week trying to offset the side effects which seemed to manifest daily. He and Kerry hadn’t spent a more than a few moments apart since he came back, as soon as the shuttle landed, he’d been whisked to a room in a private facility with twin beds – which were quickly pushed together – and all the comforts of home.

A few weeks later they were back at the condo, Kerry still catering to V’s every whim, so grateful to have him back, but also feeling stretched beyond what he could easily cope with. Things began to slowly improve, Kerry could work while V was at physio or training, but he’d promised the universe that he’d always be here for V if it brought him back to him, and he was keeping that promise.

V said little about his time on the space-station, had all but blocked it out as far as Kerry could tell, but he would talk for hours about Johnny, the stuff he used to say about people, the memories he shared, how much he missed having him around. Kerry would listen attentively, much of what V told him was exactly how he remembered his old friend to be, irreverent, charming and a pain in the ass, the difference was, Kerry didn’t miss him, not anymore. Years of therapy had started the process, but meeting him again confirmed it, Johnny was his past and that’s where he could stay, V was his future.

This time two years ago, V had just sold his soul and was in an Arasaka funded facility orbiting the globe about to be ‘cured’ of his brain-parasite. He’d disappeared from the condo days before making up some excuse about a job, which Kerry had not believed as V has been too sick to work for weeks, and wasn’t heard of again until months later when he could finally get a call through and Kerry had saved him. What happened in those intervening weeks was a mystery to Kerry, some of it was a mystery to V.

Misty had correctly guessed that two years ago today Johnny had effectively died, and with him a piece of V was gone too. He would never be the same, but there was nothing stopping him being proud of the new, successful, generally happy and loved person he had become, and Misty told him so.

“I bet Johnny would be proud of how you’ve done, I am for sure.”

“Thanks Misty, Johnny would prolly call me a pussy and cuss me out for shouting at Kerry, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You know you need to find someone to talk to V, a professional, someone who can help.”

“Uh-huh, Kerry knows someone, keeps trying to palm me off onto him, maybe I’ll let him.”

“Good idea, and Vik and me are always here for you, you know that.”

V had been eternally grateful when Misty had finally forgiven him for helping Haniko, once she understood he didn’t feel like he had a choice she eventually came around.

“I know Misty, thanks.”

“And I think you’ve got some apologising to do.”

V nodded slowly, “Yeah, I need to explain everything to Kerry, he’s the best thing that ever happened to me but he’s not a fucking mind-reader. As soon as he gets back from Texas tomorrow, we’ll sit and talk – if he’s even still talking to me.”

“I am, just,” a honey-soaked gravel voice declares from the direction of the elevator, “though I’d be happier if you answered your fucking phone and didn’t make holes in our walls.”

V’s head whips around rendering him momentarily nauseous, Misty heads towards the open doors clutching at Kerry’s hand as she passes, he takes up her vacated spot and puts a hand on his input’s knee, searching his eyes.

“I…I thought you were in Texas.” V stammers covering Kerry’s hand with his own.

“And leave you like this? Texas will still be there next month, fuck em!”

They both chuckle and move to rest their foreheads together, “How’d you find me?”

“Gave you a couple of hours yesterday before calling, you didn’t fucking answer, called again, no fucking answer, called Vik, hadn’t seen you, called Mama Welles, hadn’t seen you, called Misty, she called you, you didn’t fucking answer…”

“OK I get it, I’m a dick. I put my calls on mute, couldn’t deal with it all. So, Misty called you today then?”

“Actually no, Vik did. Saw Misty pass as he was locking up and guessed where she was going.”

“Oh, right, listen Ker I need to explain…”

“All you need right now is a rest and a very long shower, anything else can wait til after. Did it help coming up here?”

“Yeah, yeah it did.”

“Good, that’s all that matters for now, let’s go home.”

[pluttskutt]

Dragon ask game: wing!

— wingedwords

(didn’t even realise my username matches the prompt 😂🪽)

Thank you for the ask, dearie! [ask game] And, yes, maybe that's why you were drawn to it :P

Wing: share a snippet that you daydreamed about before writing it (or a snippet that you were really looking forward to writing.)

I have on I really like but it's a big scene. It's the first scene I wrote for "Tigers", which is when someone has leaked all texts between Eddie and Steve onto the school's gossip wall on the blog. Eddie's identity is protected since he's faked being a girl all the time, but Steve's secrets are out for everyone to see; including that he has a crush on a boy. Here's the end of it:

“The Scoop! Eddie! The Scoop!” she repeated as if he’d know what she was talking about, voice still loud. “It’s out, Eddie, Violet is...” a heavy sigh escaped her as she leaned back in her seat, hiding her face in her hands.

A heavy clump formed in Eddie’s stomach. The loud drum solo blended together with his friends’ voices. He stuck his hands in his pockets, desperately searching for his phone. One word, and one word only, repeated itself in his mind. No. No. No.

“Yeah, Eddie, man, everything’s on here. Stuff you didn’t even tell us,” Gareth said. His tone wasn’t an attempt at guilt trip; he understood well enough why Eddie hadn’t told them all of it. What Steve had confided to him—to Violet—were immensely private thoughts.

“Who runs this site?” Jeff asked, taking his phone back. “We should contact them. This stuff can’t be up there,” he went on, searching the website for a support contact or any form of contact. An email. Anything.

Robin watched Eddie, how silent he’d gone (which wasn’t in character), biting her lower lip. “Are you okay?” She leaned forward again and caught a glimpse of his screen. He was staring at a his last conversation with Steve.

Eddie didn't have to read the gossip wall to know what everyone knew. Those talks had been meant to stay between them, and now everyone knew. An error message popped up over new messages he sent. They wouldn't go through. Shit shit shit.

[ask-healthy-light]

The final scheduled event for Sunday, outside of the closing ceremonies at the tail end of the day, was the charity auction, where items that people have sent in are sold to the highest bidder in the Hall; a few weeks before GalaCon started, I had asked about the possibility of submitting a written story commission, but in the email I received in return, I found my offer was politely turned down.

It took a little while before everybody in and around the venue made it to the Mane Hall, including the host, Perry, so my friend and I found some seats close to stage, right in front of more friends we knew from back home, who showed us their little plushies; and they told us about the vendor, and that they were right outside the doors, so we asked them to watch our stuff, while we headed there.

Fortunately, there were many plushies still available, and the line in front of their table was but a few people, so we returned mere moments before the host stepped onto the stage; and they told the crowd that the charity for which the Con was raising money was Make-A-Wish Germany, whereafter they played a short introductory video, showing a few unforgettable experiences they had given children.

Although I had no more physical bills in my wallet, I was relieved to find that we were able to pay by digital transfer via PayPal, so if there was something I wanted to bid on, unless the price went too high, I did not need to worry whether I was able to pay; so, when the first item, a massive set of drawings by Lightning Blitz, was shown, I was the first person who bid on this great collection.

After a little while of going back and forth between myself and (a guy in cosplay of) Saul Goodman, I was the ultimate winner of the set of drawings, and after transferring €225 to the PayPal account of the Make-A-Wish foundation, I took some time to look through everything; and I realised that the set had multiple duplicates of art, save for a few unique pieces, which I knew I would keep myself.

The frequent loud applause, combined with countless voices shouting out swiftly climbing amounts of money, made the entire auction very chaotic, as it had apparently almost always been; this was made especially clear a couple of items down the line, when a hand-crafted, engraved, wooden box, shaped like Twilight's Friendship Journal, was revealed, and Perry decided to drink some water from a cup.

Before long, the true chaos of the event started to become clear, as a few scattered people started to call out to Perry to sign the cup, followed by increasingly more people, until there was nothing they could do but sign the cup, which was the first sign of the chaos to come; for not only was the engraved book-chest sold for over €800, but people also started to bid on the signed cardboard cup.

Throughout the event, though there were plenty of items on the table to make it all the way through the planned time, there were a couple of unplanned items on which people also started bidding, such as Perry's hat; and as the crowd started chanting, Perry and all the special guests signed the hat, with Ana Sani, Izzy's voice actress, adding a note to sell the table next to her signature as well.

With a couple of massive and incredibly generous prices, such as €2.000 for a custom plushie of the event mascot Canni, €1.500 for the event banner designed by CypherWave, and €2.500 for Perry's hat, as well as a contribution fro, the Pony Events Foundation, the final price was revealed at the end; and the event had raised €21.000 in total, and stunned the Make-A-Wish representative into silence.

Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end, and as there was nothing more to sign or sell for the auction, as even the marker pen that was used had been signed and sold, the only event that remained was the closing ceremonies; and although there was a great sadness in everybody as GalaCon came to a close, it was flipped on its head when Deus confirmed GalaCon would return again in 2024!

Though GalaCon was over, there was still a lot to do, and there is still a lot to talk about…

(Thanks for reading this bonus! I'll be writing more about GalaCon over the next few days, so keep an eye out if you're interested!)

Part 6/8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

[digital-corruption]

Unrecognisable Part 47

It took me a while to realise Jake not only stopped moving, he stopped breathing as stared at the fire wide-eyed, his face as white as a ghost, body trembling. He was so caught up in attacking Cyan that he hadn’t even noticed the fire, but now that Cyan laid dead underneath him, there was nothing to distract him from our situation. I called out to him several times, but he was unresponsive. I staggered getting up and ran over to nudge him forcefully, but it had no effect on him. If we were going to get out of there, it would have to be up to me. Jake had gone into shock and wasn’t going to be of any help.

Clumsily I moved closer to the fire and turned towards the flames. I tried to balance the distance from the flames so I was close enough to weaken the plastic zip tie, but far enough so I wasn’t absolutely scorching myself. Still, every now and then the flames would kiss my bare skin as they danced around. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from screaming in anguish. I remembered Jake’s stunt with the lighter and couldn’t help but think how pathetic it felt compared to now. Who would’ve thought that I would actually be put into a situation where I would have to literally burn for him? Well here I was, and I was determined to break this zip tie. I strained again against the plastic. It still wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly Jake collapsed onto the floor. Adrenaline swept over my body and kicked it into high gear. With a grunt, I shifted backwards to place my wrists directly into the flames to speed up the process. It was weird, I expected excruciating pain as my forearms burned, but in that moment, I felt nothing. My mind was too focused on one thing – survival.

“Break, damnit!” I screamed just as the plastic finally snapped, freeing my hands.

Not wasting a single moment, I ran over to Jake and grabbed his arm to lift him off the floor. He was barely conscious so I draped his arm over my shoulder and dragged him out of there. The smoke was getting so thick, it was hard to breathe. My muscles felt sluggish and my lung burned while I struggled to support Jake’s weight. I could feel my mind starting to fade as we went through the door way. It was getting harder to stay focused, but I would not give in. This would not be our end.

I had hoped for some relief in the hallway, but the fire had spread far ahead of us now. The air quality was just as bad as it was in the bedroom. As I kept dragging Jake, my eyes searched for a quick exit out of the building. However, all I could see around me was fire. More and more fire around us. Endless fire. How did it get so bad from a few candles? The world started to spin and I stumbled onto my knees. I coughed so hard that I had to let go of Jake. Fear flooded my mind. We weren’t going to get out of this with me dragging Jake, but there was no way I was leaving him behind. This fire I started would be our undoing. If only I had ignored that email. If only I hadn’t got on that plane. If only I hadn’t searched that abandoned building. If only I had left him at the train station. If only I hadn’t so selfishly pushed for us to go to that stupid rave. If only I hadn’t sought to strike Cyan first to make a statement. If only I had trusted Jake. If only I had stopped trying to play hero when I was as weak as I am. Tears streamed down my face.

“Jake, please!” my voice strained between coughs. “Wake up!”

I shook him harshly in desperation. His head turned slightly to look at me. There was barely any life left in his eyes, which only made the sobbing worse.

“What the hell have you done!?” a voice shouted.

Ahead of us, two silhouettes stood with assault rifles trained on us at the end of the hallway. As if our situation wasn’t dire enough, they would ensure we didn’t escape, like hellhounds to our own personal hell. Meanwhile, parts of the ceiling started to fall around us. Time was running out.

“Go back and help Cyan or else!” the man ordered.

How could he expect us to help anyone in the condition we were in, even if Cyan was still alive? At this point, we couldn’t get ourselves out, nevermind helping anyone. Somehow the guns they were carrying didn’t even faze me anymore.

“Go on, shoot me,” I laughed mockingly between coughs. “What’s bullets going to do now?”

Jake suddenly shifted up onto his knees weakly. I could see he was grasping at straws to stay conscious.

“Jake? What are you doing?” I questioned.

He mumbled something in response in German. In his confused state, I wasn’t sure whether he thought he had spoken in English or whether he thought he was talking to someone else. The only word I understood was “MC”.

“Jake, don’t do it!” I yelled. “You can’t possibly dodge their bullets!”

Out of nowhere, Jake jumped on top of me, pushing me down flat on the ground. He then gave the wall beside me a heavy kick. The impact caused a chain reaction of walls and ultimately a large section of the ceiling to fall between us and the men at the end of the hall. Meanwhile Jake shielded me from falling debris. I could hear one of the men screaming in pain. I looked out, but all I could see was a burning lattice blocking our path. Just as I turned my attention back to Jake, he started fighting to get his leg out from a fallen beam. Quickly, I wiggled out from underneath him and kicked the beam away. Jake lowered his head, huffing from the lack of oxygen.

“…find MC…” Jake muttered before struggling to get up onto his feet.

I hesitated for a moment as I watched Jake shuffle through the burning debris towards the entrance. Mentally he was an absolute mess. I had no idea whether he was in the now, trapped in his memories or somewhere in between. I went after him and wrapped my arm around him so I could support him again.

“I’m right here, Jake,” I forced a smile. “I’m right here with you. You’re going to get out of this. We both are.”

Looking around, I realised the earlier collapse had cleared the way to an opening in the side of the building. Gently I urged Jake to turn and head for the exit. Although it was only a few paces away, it felt like a mile. Behind us, more of the building collapsed. I tried to push Jake to move faster, but he was so weak. I began to doubt we would make it. My muscles were at their limit and if Jake lost consciousness, I wouldn’t have the strength to get him out. Closing my eyes, I began to say silent prayers to whatever deity would listen. Then, like a miracle, we were hit by the sudden cold of nighttime air and oxygen flooded our lungs.

Immediately we both collapsed onto the ground, desperately gasping for clear air. Every single muscle in my body ached as if I had just participated in a triathlon. The sudden drop in temperature caused my body to shiver. Was it always this cold outside? I tried to take in my surroundings while my eyes adjusted to the dark, but I couldn’t make out anything that wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. I glanced over at Jake lying face down on the ground and noticed his sleeve opposite me was smouldering. He was oblivious to his predicament so I clamoured over to pull his hoodie off of him and threw it to the side before it got worse.

Not a moment later, my hair was suddenly grabbed by its roots and I was forcefully pulled away from Jake. I clawed at the hand holding me and screamed at the top of my lungs, but this did nothing.

“You’re going to pay for this, bitch!” a deep voice yelled into my ear.

The next thing I knew I was on the ground at the feet of three large men. The first man shouted to the others in German and they leant over to grab my wrists and ankles. I kicked and flailed, though it hardly made any impact on these oversized monsters. Out of nowhere the first one went down with a loud thud, which caught the other two by surprise, but they didn’t have time to react before a metal pipe slammed into the back of the second’s head. There was a resounding cracking sound of his neck breaking near the base of his spine and he went down.

The third one jumped to his feet and blocked the pipe from impacting his collar bone. Jake and the thug wrestled for control of the pipe, but ultimately Jake was the weaker of the two. He was greatly disadvantaged being he was still under the effects of severe smoke inhalation. That and he was half the size of the other guy. He lost control and took several hits from the metal pipe. The sound of the pipe hitting his torso hauntingly echoed through the night. I sat up in terror, lost at how I could help Jake. In that time the first thug came to and stood up to assist his comrade. I glanced over at the second thug, who was either dead or unconscious, and I noticed his handgun peaking out of the back of his shirt. Without hesitation I grabbed it, turned off the safety and shot a warning into the ground.

“The next one goes into your skull!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, absolutely trying my hardest to sound convincing.

In actuality, I wasn’t sure if I could hit one of the two thugs without hitting Jake. The thugs turned to look at me and while they were trying to determine whether I was a plausible threat, Jake punched the one with the pipe in the kidney and ripped the pipe out of his hands while he was reeling in pain. As he lifted the pipe to bash his head, the other thug moved to attack Jake and I panicked. I squeezed the trigger and a bullet hit him squarely in the chest. This gave Jake enough opportunity to hit him in the crook of the neck to make sure he fell to the ground and stayed down. Then Jake went absolutely ballistic on their bodies alternating between the three of them, pummelling their heads with the pipe while howling into the night.

Meanwhile I sat back on the ground in stunned silence over everything that had just happened. It wasn’t until flesh flung off the pipe onto my face that I snapped back into the present. I flinched and swatted the debris away. My eyes followed its trajectory on the ground and I realised it had been brain matter. My repulsion was short lived though as I heard sirens approaching.

“Jake! We have to get out of here!” I yelled.

Jake couldn’t hear me, or wouldn’t hear me. Absolutely unhinged now, waves of aggression and frustration flooded out of him. Somehow I had to get him to stop. We had to get out of there before the authorities arrived if we were going to have any chance of escaping. I jumped up and ran over to him, wrapping my arms around him from behind. I hugged him tight until he finally stopped and dropped the pipe. His body shook in my arms.

“Come on, let’s go home,” I whispered.

Jake nodded weakly and turned away. Together we stepped around the bodies and out the back of the property into the alleyways. As we turned the corner, flashing lights reflecting off the bricks caught my attention. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure none were in actual line of sight to us. There was shouting followed by a series of gunshots as the cops rounded up the remnants of Cyan’s crew. Miraculously as we weaved through the alleys, no one came our way. That meant we could shuffle back towards our hideout in peace, neither one of us speaking a word to each other.

[nahoney22]

I posted 1,572 times in 2022

386 posts created (25%)

1,186 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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@nahoney22 (you gotta love yourself too)

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I tagged 400 of my posts in 2022

#the bad batch - 128 posts

#star wars - 106 posts

#clone wars - 101 posts

#tbb - 69 posts

#nahoney22 writes - 54 posts

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#bad batch - 23 posts

#hunter bad batch - 21 posts

#crosshair bad batch - 20 posts

#bad batch tech - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 110 characters

#i have a three hour social visit in the morning and the last thing i need is to be crying because of spoilers.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See You Again***

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Doc Ock X F!Reader

word count: f knows it’s long probably like 5-6k sorry lmao

You’re visited one night at work by Doc Ock himself and every memory you once had of him came swarming back; as did the untold feelings you shared for him.

warnings: 18+ so minors shoo. Ock being a bit creepy to reader, slight manhandling but nothing sinister. Nsfw, Smut, praise, dirty talk, p in v sex, restraints used by tentacles, bit angsty and a bit of fluff, cream pie, swearing, not properly proofread. One off shot, won’t do a part 2 ❤️

A/N gif by me. Request for my beautiful @itsjml - Happy belated birthday 👑 and this is my first Doc Ock fic! So I hope you enjoy you doc ock fuckers 🐙

Italics is flashback

—————————

When the news struck about Otto Octavius robbing banks, destroying buildings and becoming the new villain of New York, you couldn’t believe it.

This was Otto, your Otto. Well, he never was but you had once or twice imagined in your silly thoughts that he could be. Funny, right? The only man to pay you any mind, only one to actually talk with you about everything and anything. And now he is gone; replaced by a villain that terrorizes the city.

When you met Otto, it was your second week into the job at Oscorp. It was Harry who initially hired you as the two of you had been friends in college and when he heard you were looking for something just to help pay rent at your small apartment, he just had a new position open up; a receptionist.

It wasn’t the glamorous job you always thought you’d have as a young, naive kid but the pay was decent. It was just a tad boring, answering emails and phone calls on a phone that you had to hold the cord in a certain place to hear the customer properly all day long.

But, you found yourself enjoying it more when you met Otto. You had seen him a few times and low-key admired the tall, slightly heavy set man from afar but it wasn’t until one storming morning you first spoke to each other.

Running towards the building in the blistering winds and heavy downfall of rain as black clouds wrapped around the city sky, you didn’t realise that in your mad sprint you had dropped the fob onto the floor.

As you went to let yourself in, you cursed as the fob wasn’t anywhere on your person.

By now, your hair was drenched, strands clinging onto your damp face and your white shirt did you the injustice of becoming transparent and showing off your dark navy bra. You didn’t even bring a coat because the forecast was supposed to be bright and sunny all week - not torrential rain.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over you and a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders and brought you close to their side. Since you were always told to be wary about foes in the city, you were about to make a swipe at them and tell them off for randomly grabbing you but as you looked at them the side profile of the Doctor you had been admiring stood at your side with an umbrella sheltering you both.

“Drop your fob, ma’am?” He questions, not taking a look at you as he pulled out his own entry device and swipes it against the door as the two of you piled into the warmth of the building.

“Uh, yeah. Looks that way.” You shudder once his arm leaves you and you turn to see him shake out the rain from his umbrella before he looks up at you and smiles. And what a charming smile he had.

You weren't sure, but you would hazard a guess that this man was trying his damn hardest not to tear his eyes away from your face to gaze at your slight state of exposure but, being the gentleman he seemed to be, he didn’t. “You’re Harry’s friend.” He says more of a statement than a question.

Stupidly looking at him all awestruck like, it was when he cleared his throat that you snapped out of your gaze and thanked your red cheeks on the cold weather rather than the embarrassment of staring at him. “Yeah, that’s me.”

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448 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

#4

Touch Starved with Tech

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Tech X GN!Reader

word count: 3.4k

The fifth and final instalment of the Touch Starved Series with the gorgeous Tech.

warnings: none, touch starved Tech, fluff, a little suggestive if you squint. Enjoy 🤍 SCHEDULED POST.

Masterlist

——————————

Affection was not something Tech had any particular interest in when growing up nor was it something he was ever on the receiving thing of. It didn’t bother him, no. In fact, he never felt as though he needed to hug someone or shake someone’s hand to show comfort or gratitude. Why would he when his mind was racing with a thousand different ways to show these types of feelings?

That all changed however when you came into his life.

You had met him and the rest of the batch on Kamino, working under Master Jedi Shaaki Ti as one of the medical team. It was her who had signed you up to work with Clone Force 99 and although you all seemed reluctant, it was the best thing to ever happen.

There was no mistaking that Tech had found you attractive, every one of his brothers did and it didn’t help that you were also incredibly kind-hearted and funny. You were patient but brutally honest when you had to be and most of all? You listened to him.

It was a calm day for the Batch, relaxing on the sands of Tatooine and waiting for the next set of missions to come fire their way and Tech was doing his typical daily repairs. However, he ran into a small problem with one of the compartments under the control panel that controls the reflector shields and needed an assistant.

You just so happened to be walking past and glance in his way to see the harsh concentration grace his sharp features. “Everything alright, Tech?”

Glancing up from under the panel upon hearing the sound of the voice, an idea popped into his mind. “Ah! I don’t suppose you could spare a minute or two and assist me with some general repairs?”

“Are you sure? I’m not exactly good at that kind of stuff.” It’s not that you did not want to help but the thought of possibly accidentally breaking something triggered in your mind. It wasn’t until Tech said that you only had to hold some wires and maybe pass him some tools that finally convinced you to help.

“Well, okay then. Let me just take my jacket off and I’ll come under.”

“Not a problem, I can wait.” Tech confirmed by pulling himself back under the panel, laying on the flat piece of his armour on his back and awaited your return.

When you did, the top half of your body only sported a vest top since the ship was hotter than usual (obviously because of the planet and obviously because Wrecker had accidentally broken the cooling system… another task for another day) and got on your knees beside him.

“Alright I’m ready! Can I come under?”

Tech made a noise of what could only be a grunt of approval, slightly shifting more to his left to give you some room as you lay on your back and shimmied your way up beside him. “Okay sir, what would you like me to do?”

Your formal address to him made him chuckle in amusement. “Please, you do not need to call me such formalities as I am nothing more than your teammate. But, I would like you to hold onto this yellow wire whilst I calibrate the circuit board just here.”

Subtly, you rolled your eyes at Tech’s correction to the nickname you gave him but nonetheless took the yellow between your fingers and watched him tinker away.

As you watched him, your eyes traveled down to spot the side of his face, small beads of sweat trickling down from his temple. His face remained set in concentration, jaw clenching and slightly gritting his teeth.

Safe to say that if you were wearing something with a collar, you'd be hot underneath it.

Out of all the members of the Batch, you were probably closest to Tech and but that has unfortunately led to you feeling some kind of way around him. You tried to brush it off as a little crush but the more he taught you, spoke to you… it was definitely more than a little crush.

You tore your eyes away once he asked for the wire back and as you passed the wire towards him, his gloved fingers wrapped around your index finger accidentally causing Tech to gasp and pull back quickly.

Eyes widening a little at his reaction, the first thought that came to mind was that he had an electric shock of some kind.

“Tech, what was that? You okay?” You asked quickly, shifting a little on your side to look at him better as he inspected his fingers closely after dropping his spanner onto his chest.

“I am not too sure what it was but I can assure you that I am alright and you should not be alarmed.” He said simply but on the inside, his blood was boiling and his heart was racing.

See the full post

449 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

#3

I feel like none of this would’ve happened if Plo Koon didn’t die

486 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

#2

Touch Starved with Echo

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Echo X GN!Reader

word count: 2.6k

The fourth instalment of the Touch Starved Series and this time it’s with the handsome Echo who feels as though he’s not worthy of any comfort.

warnings: This ones a little angsty as Echo is super insecure about his relatively new ‘modifications’. Reader comforts Echo so fluff will be expected too.

Masterlist 🤍

My Ko-Fi 🤍

————————————

Echo being touch starved was not a surprise to anyone. Echo knew he was and so did you and so did his vod to be honest.

The only problem was that he did not like to be touched. At all. The only contact he had recently was with Tech who makes adjustments to his newly modified body and the thought of anyone else touching him made him feel sick.

Sick because he no longer felt like a human and sick at the thought of someone being disgusted by him.

When he met you however, he saw no signs of disgust on your face when you first met in that hangar. However, he stayed way back from you whenever it came to physical contact.

In fact, you thought that you had insulted him when you stuck out your hand to shake his but as he went to put his hand towards you he winced silently and just nodded instead.

But, the two of you got along and that’s all that mattered.

It was a quiet day for the squad, drifting through space as Hunter and Crosshair took control of the cockpit, Wrecker was snoozing in his bunk meanwhile Echo and Tech were tinkering away in the main hull of the ship.

Echo was calibrating something for Tech, the use of his scomp being a valuable asset to the task but Echo noticed that it began to malfunction. He pulled it out of the socket and gave it an experimental twirl but sighed as it got jammed. This wasn’t the first time either, it had been happening at least three times a week and it happening in the middle of working wasn’t great.

“Hey Tech,” he called over to the goggled clone who was head down in his datapad and scanning through the ships files, “my scomp is jammed again.”

He looked up and frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t assist you at the moment.” Then, you walked in and a lightbulb ignited in his brain. “Y/N can help you.”

“Help you with what?” You question, surprised at the sudden task being put on you as soon as you entered.

Echo felt a little nauseous. “Oh, er- it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing when we need your help with repairs on my ship. Now let them help.” Tech said almost dismissively as he stood and went to speak with Hunter about whatever which just left you two alone.

You immediately sensed his slight hostility about you helping but you were now adamant to tend to whatever he needed and so sat on the swivel chair next to his and smiled. “Is it your scomp?” You nod towards his arm and he arches a brow.

“How did you know?”

“Heard you were having trouble with it a few days ago is all.” You tell him, grabbing some of Tech’s tools that he left on the side by his workbench. “I probably won’t get it working perfectly but I could have a nosey at it.”

Echo chewed on the inside of his cheek, tossing the proposition of you helping him up in his mind until he sighed and nodded. “That’ll be helpful.”

“Not a problem, just place your arm up on here.” You pat the workbench and Echo does as he is told, begrudgingly laying his arm or what was left of it on top and watches as you inspect it before grabbing a small scalpel.

“I’m just gonna see if it’s jammed with dirt first.” You figured telling him what you were about to do with his body was the best step to take, not wanting to do something that might make him snap at you which if you were being honest, didn’t think would ever happen. Echo was always so kind to you and made you caf in the mornings but you soon began to realise you didn’t know much about him. You knew he was a ‘reg’ but you were not told the whole story of how he joined the squad in the first place.

You only joined a month or two after he did as a medic who also knew their way around a power converter and repairing engines so Echo knew he was in somewhat good hands.

You scraped the scalpel alongside the socket, gently tugging at any dirt or oil residue that may have slipped in and cleaned it on some tissue before putting it back in.

See the full post

671 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

OH AND THE NEW ARMOUR??? LOVE

1,628 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[madaminamorganheadsforthearctic]

A full day on board the boat - don’t hold your breath

The good news is that now I am on deck 6 and forward of the propellers; the engine noise have faded; the cabin doesn’t shake; it’s now waves instead. I slept through the night until the captain entered into a siren competition around 7.00 am with two other ships.

The competition was in two parts. Part one was “my siren is louder than yours” and part two was “I can do more blasts per minute than you can”. I judged it to be a score draw. No such thing as a lie it after that so I got up and went for a coffee. A full day on board the boat - don’t hold your breath

The good news is that now I am on deck 6 and forward of the propellers; the engine noise have faded; the cabin doesn’t shake; it’s now waves instead. I slept through the night until the captain entered into a siren competition around 7.00 am with two other ships.

The competition was in two parts. Part one was “my siren is louder than yours” and part two was “I can do more blasts per minute than you can”. I judged it to be a score draw. No such thing as a lie it after that so I got up and went for a coffee.

Meanwhile I looked at my emails and one asked if I was enjoying good Norwegian coffee. Apologies to them and to all. As always I am travelling with my pot of instant Nescafé decaffeinated granules!

The wind is quite strong, but the weather has generally improved.

The schedule says we are due to make two quick calls to offload a lorry or similar and then stop for a couple of hours at Brønnøysund. Trips on offer at Brønnøysund are a visit to the salmon farm or a hike to Torghatten. I am bored and decide to go to the salmon farm. I go to register, but it’s off due to lack of interest, I should have guessed.

The other is the hike, but iPad map tells me that the time it takes to hike from the port to Torghatten is 4 hours. As we are only stopping for 2 hours and most of those on this floating retirement home are hard pushed to be able to hike down the gangplank and hike back up it again, I assume that ‘hike’ equals ‘coach trip’ and that’s a no for me.

So I decide to have a look around the town and visit the Vinmonopli store, which google tells me is in the shopping centre. Yes I do realise it sounds like I am an obsessive alco, but as not only is wine a government monopolistic fix in the first instance, but once added onto that is the Hurtigruten’s own monopolistic fix, the price of a glass of plonk de plonk is approaching £15. Ridiculous.

The floating retirement home residents all line up dutifully, dressed in identikit jeans and waterproof top. They all know exactly what to do. We have to show our cabin ticket to be scanned as we leave. With every scan a recorded low and earnest voice says ‘goodbye’ - I do not make this up! So it’s down the gangplank and yes, there is the coach to the hike. I have made the right assumption; it’s not a hike and I am not coaching.

There are signs around the ship and in copious quantity and languages and it appears that we are supposed to read these conscientiously each day. Yes, there are tannoy announcements in some combined Norse/dutch/german/English combination and I am reminded of one of my earlier trips when I was told that the non-natural English speakers understand each other much better than the natural English speaker understands them. One of my boards calls it ‘globe-ish’ a good phrase.

The German lady in the cabin opposite me opens her door at the same time. She tells me that what she does is that when one of the announcements is made, she then goes up and down in the lift three times to read them all and work out what she is supposed to do.She has a point but I have no intention to be that conscientious.

And the having read that us the payers are apparently not allowed to bring any alcohol on board and if we do it will be taken away and only given back when you disembark. Well you can shove that one!

Is this balance quite right?

I head for the town and the Vinmonopli shop in the shopping centre and recognise around a dozen of my fellow passengers in there as well. What a pleasure it is to see that not all are institutionalised. Like me they all seem to be buying packets of wine so they don't clink past the staff on the way back - it’s like being back at school! We exchange the international grin of comradeship and confidentially and good no know that I am not the only one.

My 1.5L of Chablis costs me slightly less than two glasses of the on board plonk de plonk. I then go for a walk round the town.

A drizzle has started and no town looks good in a drizzle. This one reminds me of one of rundown seaside towns on a wet and chilly summer day. Like Colwyn Bay where I was locked up in a school for 4 years and where letters home were stamped ‘come to captivating Colwyn Bay” when ‘come to crappy Colwyn Bay’ would have been more appropriate! I believe there are requirements now that forbid ‘captivating’ in that context, just as if the play reviewer says ‘ this play was extraordinary in that it was quite awful’ the advertisements and bill boards are no longer able to end the quote at ‘extraordinary’.

An interesting sailing boat is in the harbour. It’s German from its flag but looks more like a Dutch gaff rigged sailing barge. I go for a look to ask but there is no one on board. Sailors on this blog will have a view.

Back to the ship and at the top of the gang plank my cabin card is scanned again. An enthusiastic and now high pitched recorded voice says ‘welcome on board’ to every scan. Oh my goodness. Anyone remember Hi-de-Hi?

I realise I have not posted a pic of it yet, so see below

On board there is a message for everyone that tonight is a special event. Well after the jigsaws, the knitting and the scrabble, maybe its the Knobbly knees competition?

It transpires that the captain has decided this is his last nights dinner. It’s Monday and the boat doesn’t dock until Wednesday, but it’s his last night. Maybe he is as bored as me (or lost the siren competition in the morning). No doubt the explanation is/was in the lift.

Whatever the reason, the decent viewing platform at the front of deck 7, which has some spaces for the first time. It suffers from the towel-on-the-sun-lounger problem, but now I get a decent view. We are coming into (and leaving 15 mins later) Rorvik. It’s one of the towns that I thought about visit in on my way north. It’s interesting to watch, a tight fit in and out and the dilemma is coming towards us.

No problem but so much more interesting than than the trips.

I go to dinner and get bollocked. Apparently I am later than my allotted slot which has been sent to me when the captain decided this tonight his last supper and I know nothing of this. What?… and all of a sudden those behind me chime up too. And about the quality of the trips. And about attitude go those who are paying. And then they change to Norwegian - from the body language that was interesting.

We shake hands and I give up with the restaurant and go to the cafe and pay for a bowl of soup. I am not the only one who thinks Hurtigruten has not got this right for the money.

At the bar I ask for a glass of water with a lot of ice -to cool the Chablis - and take it down to my cabin to drink a cold glass with the last episode of the Night Manager.

The wind is quite strong, but the weather has generally improved.

The schedule says we are due to make two quick calls to offload a lorry or similar and then stop for a couple of hours at Brønnøysund. Trips on offer at Brønnøysund are a visit to the salmon farm or a hike to Torghatten. I am bored and decide to go to the salmon farm. I go to register, but it’s off due to lack of interest, I should have guessed.

The other which is the hike, my iPad maptells me that the time it takes to hike from the port to Torghatten is 4 hours. As we are only stopping for 2 hours and most of those on this floating retirement home are hard pushed to be able to hike down the gangplank and hike back up it again, I assume that ‘hike’ equals ‘coach trip’ and that’s a no for me.

So I decide to have a look around the town and visit the Vinmonopli store, which google tells me is in the shopping centre. Yes I do realise it sounds like I am an obsessive alco, but as not only is wine a government monopolistic fix in the first instance, but once added onto that is the Hurtigruten’s own monopolistic fix, the price of a glass of plonk de plonk is approaching £15. Ridiculous.

The floating retirement home residents all line up dutifully, dressed in identikit jeans and waterproof top. They all know exactly what to do. We have to show our cabin ticket to be scanned as we leave. With every scan a recorded low and earnest voice says ‘goodbye’ - I do not make this up! So it’s down the gangplank and yes, there is the coach to the hike. I made the right assumption; it’s not a hike and I am not coaching.

There are signs around the ship and in copious quantity and languages and it appears that we are supposed to read these conscientiously each day. Yes, there are tannoy announcements in some combined Norse/dutch/german/English combination. I am reminded of one of my earlier trips when I was told that the non-natural English speakers understand each other much better than the natural English speaker understands them. One of my boards calls it ‘globe-ish’ a good phrase.

The German lady in the cabin opposite me opens her door at the same time. She tells me that what she does is that when one of the announcements is made, she then goes up and down in the lift three times to read them all and work out what she is supposed to do.She has a point but I have no intention to be that conscientious.

I paid. Everyone has paid. Is this balance quite right?

So have read that us the payers are apparently not allowed to bring any alcohol on board and if we do it will be taken away and only given back when you disembark. Well you can shove that one!

I head for the town and the Vinmonopli shop in the shopping centre and recognise around a dozen of my fellow passengers in there as well. What a pleasure it is to see that not all are institutionalised. Like me they all seem to be buying packets of wine so they don't clink past the staff on the way back - it’s like being back at school! We exchange the international grin of comradeship and confidentially and good no know that I am not the only one.

My 1.5L of Chablis costs me slightly less than two glasses of the on board plonk de plonk. I then go for a walk round the town.

A drizzle has started and no town looks good in a drizzle. This one reminds me of one of rundown seaside towns on a wet and chilly summer day. Like Colwyn Bay where I was locked up in a school for 4 years and where letters home were stamped ‘come to captivating Colwyn Bay” when ‘come to crappy Colwyn Bay’ would have been more appropriate! I believe there are requirements now that forbid ‘captivating’ in that context, just as if the play reviewer says ‘ this play was extraordinary in that it was quite awful’ the advertisements and bill boards are no longer able to end the quote at ‘extraordinary’.

An interesting sailing boat is in the harbour. It’s German from its flag but looks more like a Dutch gaff rigged sailing barge. I go for a look to ask but there is no one on board. Sailors on this blog will have a view.

Back to the ship and at the top of the gang plank my cabin card is scanned again. An enthusiastic and now high pitched recorded voice says ‘welcome on board’ to every scan. Oh my goodness. Anyone remember Hi-de-Hi?

I realise I have not posted a pic of it yet, so see below

On board there is a message for everyone that tonight is a special event. Well after the jigsaws, the knitting and the scrabble, maybe its the Knobbly knees competition?

It transpires that the captain has decided this is his last nights dinner. It’s Monday and the boat doesn’t dock until Wednesday, but it’s his last night. Maybe he is as bored as me (or lost the siren competition in the morning). No doubt the explanation is/was in the lift.

Whatever the reason, the decent viewing platform at the front of deck 7, which has some spaces for the first time. It suffers from the towel-on-the-sun-lounger problem, but now I get a decent view. We are coming into (and leaving 15 mins later) Rorvik. It’s one of the towns that I thought about visit in on my way north. It’s interesting to watch, a tight fit in and out and the dilemma is coming towards us.

No problem but so much more interesting than than the trips is this:

I go to dinner and get bollocked. Apparently I am later than my allotted slot which has been sent to me when the captain decided this tonight his last supper and I know nothing of this. What?… and all of a sudden those behind me chime up too. And about the quality of the trips. And about attitude go those who are paying. And then they change to Norwegian - from the body language that was interesting.

We shake hands and I give up with the restaurant and go to the cafe and pay for a bowl of soup. I am not the only one who thinks Hurtigruten has not got this right for the money.

At the bar I ask for a glass of water with a lot of ice -to cool the Chablis - and take it down to my cabin to drink a cold glass with the last episode of the Night Manager.

[leaving-anorexia-behind]

09/07/24

Yesterday, I met with my care coordinator for a Costa coffee and I filled her in on the latest news from the week. We initially started with the latest news from my social worker in that we finally have the funding, but now need to know who the placements are. She quickly sent an email as we spoke and agreed I need to get away from the residential asap.

The atmosphere in residential is difficult. I said about the clinical lead asking if I'd go to the other ED residential unit but not only would I refuse to go there (my friend died completely unnecessarily under their care) but also, my home team have put them on the banned list anyway. Another resident is presenting with mania putting her at risk of impulsive decisions that put her in harms way (kind of) but as I said her presentation, my care coordinator shook her head and said it didn't sound like bipolar at all. I said that regardless, why is it that residential can support her when they couldn't support me?!

We moved onto my intake. It had been very poor over the weekend, even I can admit that. I explained I felt severely nauseous and went very dizzy which she said was probably my blood pressure dropping. I felt sad and said that all I wanted was to learn to manage, but instead I'm starting to slip. I'm desperately trying not to but I am. What she said next made my body go cold.

She said that she could put in a case for me to be admitted right there and then. By my reaction, she said she wouldn't as she didn't want to and it could also impact getting me into an alternative placement. Instead, she asked me to continue really fighting the ED, spend less time away from residential if possible and once I'm back down south, she'd reassess my situation with me. Her main concern is that once I'm transferred, I'll slip backwards even further over the settling in period of 4-6 weeks. She said that I may need a 2 week top up just to get back on track, although she realises I'd be highly resistant to that idea.

I really need to fight. Of course, that's far easier said than done. I refused to be weighed this morning as I was terrified residential would stop me driving which I need for work and getting to/ from Kent! My care coordinator bought it up yesterday but said to be careful and not to drive if I felt unwell at any point. I reassured her I wouldn't but at least she lets me take the responsibility, as she knows I would never put anyone else at risk.

What a mess.

On the plus side, I've been offered an interview to be a part- time mental health navigator for when I move (I applied a month or so ago). Not sure how or why but I'll try my best anyway! I also applied for another job (again, part-time) but I've not heard back yet, we'll see what happens.

[yakultii]

I ain't scared, I just thought I might get the most best answer this way..I'm wondering what poet or poem you read (or were read in your childhood) that had you looking for more and aspiring to write your own? If it was a traumatic event, I feel you there. .it can really help to read a complete stranger's words of pain, when they harmonize with our own. I admit, I have only read a couple of your poems but I love your voice, keep on keepin on ☮️ 🕉 💛

HAHA DW I LOVE ANONS <33333 I encourage it.

HONESTLY no poetry inspired me to write poetry (IRONIC) I thought I hated poetry!!!! I’ve written many things since I was a kid but always been more of an essay kinda dude..I attempted to read poetry a few times over my lifetime and mostly it made no sense to me..I thought it was just a bunch of pretentious ppl flexing their advanced vocab (which honestly I lack bc of a whole other story I won’t get into and maybe I was just jealous) - the only time I wrote a poem was back in final yr of highschool lit class when my brain was malnourished af and writing it made me want to kms plus I had major imposter syndrome (and then my lovely grandma went and sent it in to a poetry magazine without me knowing and it got published and still I didn’t think poetry was for me) only in more recent times I no longer have access to a psych who I can send weekly 3000 word emails to and I needed to do something so that I would stop driving myself completely insane bc I also live alone 4hrs from family and no friends so have noone to save me but myself so I started writing every day on wattpad like a digital diary entry(today was day 118 in a row) then I started to see others who had written poetry and combined w the fact that I’ve come very far over the yrs in terms with perfectionism (as in not needing to be) I found myself in a place realising that poetry didn’t have to be “good” and that I could just make it work for me. I could just write for myself. To get things out (even tho it’s only like 5% of my mind). It didn’t need to look impressive for others etc like what I used to think poetry did… so yeah basically poetry is just my budget therapy now and a tool to prevent me from ending things :))))) everything I write about (so far, at time of writing) is from real life experience and I love using it as an outlet to say the things that wouldn’t be taken so well if they were said out loud.. cause everyone has some sort of darker side whether they are exposed to it or not and whilst I do hold onto a lot of hope I love being able to have an outlet to get the rot out of me or at least create something with it so it’s not completely useless and all consuming. ALSO I think it’s cool that poetry allows you to turn your words into art. I’ve always loved art and ppl consider me arty or whatevs but I can’t draw or paint (well - not that it matters) so this is kinda something that comes more naturally to me! (I’ve only been writing poetry for 4 months now so hopefully I can only get better)… AND THANK THE LORD in the meantime as I have come to write my own poetry I am now able to appreciate other people’s poetry, I can understand it more, I can be inspired by it, I can admire it. I get it now. Or at least I think I’m starting to get it…. But to answer ur question l wouldn’t say it was a singular traumatic event which inspired it but rather a combined experience of like 20 genuinely traumatic events combined with being neurodiverse & a lifetime of various mental illnesses which I wouldn’t say are all treated etc. and quite honestly having read NOTHING in the past which resonated with the depth of my own experience so I thought you know what I know I can’t be the only one feeling this, I’m gonna try write my own! If I can’t read it I’ll write it and hope I can be that for someone else I guessss

SOZ FOR RANT IDK HOW TO STFU AND THANK YOU FOR READING A FEW OF MY POEMS AND THANK YOU FOR THIS QUESTION ILY HAVE A LOVELY DAY <33

[wanderingstethoscope]

“You got 74% overall but it still be a fail.”

Late in the year of 2020, I was standing in one of the rooms in the British Council in Singapore, ready to take a supplementary exam which could either; one; result in me having to repeat an entire year of vet school, or two; progress into fourth year. Perhaps “ready” was not the right term in this case, as I remember breaking out in cold sweat, and all I could hear was ringing in my ears, with a lump in my throat. But it had nothing to do with how prepared I was to take this exam.

Just two days before the exam, I was told that the council would provide me with a working computer to complete my online exam. On the morning of the exam, I had an inkling that something was going to go very wrong. So I grabbed my own laptop and shoved it into my backpack, just in case. I arrived on time, and was let into the room by an invigilator. She was an older Singaporean lady with a strong accent, immediately bringing back memories of my primary school teacher when I lived in the country. I asked her, “So, which computer am I using?”. She looked puzzled. I continued, “I was told via email that the council would provide one. This is an online exam.” She replied with, “They did not tell me anything about providing you with a computer.”

My heart started to race as I thought to myself, “Okay, that is fine, right? I’ve got my own.” I unzipped my backpack, pulled out my laptop and turned it on. 5 minutes before exam time. I glanced at the battery percentage, 18%! Sweet, amazing, wow. Yeah, good luck trying to complete a 2 hour exam with 18% battery life, Weiyin. I reached for my charger and looked around for a plug. To my absolute horror and realisation, my charger could not fit into any of the sockets. I did not have a universal plug with me. Idiot! I was not in Middle Earth, or Narnia, whatever you want to call that beautiful country.

That was when panic really started to hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked around frantically. There was an old computer by the corner so I asked if I could use it, but the invigilator seemed reluctant as she did not know how the exam was being run.

“Listen, all I need is to sign into Kuracloud and complete the exam. It is a platform that can be assessed anywhere. Please.” I begged. She still sounded hesitant.

I felt so hopeless at the time until all I could mutter was… “This means a lot to me…”

After at least 10 minutes of frantic exchanging of jumbled words, she finally gave in. I did my exam with shaky fingers, punching onto the keyboard, regurgitating whatever knowledge my limited brain cells had retained post-that incident, thanked her for her assistance, and left the council with a mind still fogged up with anxiety. What a fantastic start to the new year.

Usually, this kind of incident would kill my appetite. But strangely enough, I knew only one thing that could make me happy at that point; unagi. Yes, unagi. Grilled eel. I boarded the underground sub, and made my way to Clarke Quay’s Don Don Donki, a Japanese discount chain store. As I entered, my ears were immediately filled with that irritating and yet catchy theme song that plays in-store 24/7, but boy was I happy to hear it. I went straight to the food section, grabbed the unagi bento box, paid, and ate there. Finally, good eel that tastes nothing like the one I had at Palmerston North’s Wabi Sabi. No offense.