#i was sketched out by them at first but they were only like 20 bucks so i was like eh lets give em a shot

[food4dead]

I bought a pair of thinx period underwear out of curiosty and as soon as i have more money I'm buying at least 2 more pairs. I've never been this comfortable on my period ever. I haven't leaked, no hair pulling, no gross wet sticky feeling. Absolute fucking game changer. It feels like I'm just wearing normal underwear

I’ve started wearing depends adult diapers during my period and oh my god I’m never wearing pads again in my life. I’ve never felt so comfortable and protected with leak coverage ever. Not to mention no unnecessary discomfort or sticking to skin/hair. I woke up this morning feeling like a normal person and my mind didn’t immediately go to ‘am I going to have to wash my sheets today’. Blessings. If you’re considering the switch please god join me. You won’t regret it.

[nualaofthefaerie]

Who am I, and why I'll always show where Nuala is mentioned?

So hello guys.

I came to the realization that a lot of people on Tumblr do not know me, and I came kind of suddenly to you guys. So, allow me to tell you who I am and why I hope to become a big part of your "Sandman" experience. I will attach some pictures for references 🩷🪷

My name is Li. My main platform is Twitter. Most of my friends are there too. I hope I can make a lot of mutuals here, too. I came across "The Sandman" one year ago. Now, the Sandman is a wonderful piece of media for people to explore a plethora of dynamics they enjoy. For me, it was a bit of an adjustment.

Before reading the comic, I tried to stan Dreamling. However, for me personally, I very rarely enjoy dynamics with no women in them. That is, of course, me personally. I am not the one who should tell people what they should enjoy. Bi/Pan WLM and WLW, those are dynamics I truly enjoy. However, at the time, I was trying to fit in with what was popular. Truly, it didn't make me very happy because I just don't see it the way Dreamling shippers see it.

So I tried changing my angle. I tried to get into Calliope and Morpheus (I apologise, I do not know if they have their own little ship name). This one fitter me a bit better. However, I have personal issues with the concept of divorce, and I could never quite brush aside the fact that at the end... they were divorced. I even made a Calliope cosplay at the time and met Tom (loveliest person on Earth).

(I envisioned this ballerina Calliope cosplay, and for the most part, I made it work. This was my VERY first attempt at anything.)

He kind of convinced me to just read through the comics. And I did. And it all really fell into place. And Nuala of the Faerie became my spark. I want to make it clear that I love Nuala so much more and so BEYOND Sandflower. She is just so exceptional, so complex. I became SO excited to explore what the Internet could offer on her only to get...nothing. Absolutely nothing. Whatever little official art there was (three-five drawings and it was usually not even Nuala centered, she was just there) and two three pen drawings on DivienArt made in 2010.

Now, one thing about me is that I am persistent as all hell. And it is completely out of line that Thessaly is a "main character," but Nuala isn't. So, in January, I had a very "If no one is going to do it, I will" moment. I began talking about her every day. Analysing, sharing panels, commissioning artists (uni student making commissions, I was kinda of crazy for that one. I made one commission once and then had 20 bucks left for the week to buy food) and every minute since January until today, I do it all for her. Because she deserves to be recognized. Nuala is no less than Lucien/ne or the Corinthian. I have an ask sitting in my inbox that I simply don't know how to answer:

"Why do you think "x" is more popular than Nuala?"

I do not know, to be honest. Frankly, I also try not to care. Because my love for Nuala is not based on bringing other characters of the Sandman down. I do this to uplift her to a status where one day, I won't be the only person on the Nuala tag (I was SO happy the other day when like five new people had made art, SO happy) and not the only one on the Sandflower tag (that is ONLY me for now). And until then, I will be the only one. It's okay. And when I no longer have to be, I will sit back and enjoy the fruits of my hard work.

This may appear very self-centered to those who do not know me, but those who do will tell you I work day and night for her. I have a 70k Sandflower fic, 50k of which is only its first arc, just sitting in my google Docs. I have sketches upon sketches. I talk with artists about more commissions and how to make it so she gets a new outreach. I have conversations and try to introduce her to as many people as possible until they notice her and care for her at least a fraction of how much I do. She inspired me to try sewing and really get to cosplay a SOLID version of her (still working on that).

(I sewed most of the outfit and and it was my second attempt to do anything from scratch. I'll get better at it 🪷🌿🩷)

I like to think she would love it. She only ever longed to be loved. And I love my girl.

So much. We help each other every day. We exist together. And when her actress joins our little triangle, we will make the perfect fairy. The perfect personification of womanhood the way I see it.

My Nuala (Lala, Lali, Lalita, flower, the pearl, sun, if I missed any of my moots nicknames for her, hit me up).

So that's it, dear Tumblr. I am afraid you won't be able to mention Nuala of the Faerie without me because somewhere in May, we started co-existing.

And we are not going anywhere.

Love,

Li and Nuala 🪷🌿🩷

[astronomical-bagel]

I love your 80's diner au, do you have any 'lore' you would like to share?

oh boy DO I. ive been thinking about this thing on-and-off pretty much every day!! gosh, the only problem is i dont even know where to START. hmmm ok ok lets talk about the setting first ig.

-- the entire vibes are based off of every eighties movies i remember (with the addition of gay people LMAO), so basically that means: theyre in school. But i do NOT want them to be like 16 so theyre all in different stages of college age. so the majority of them are within their 20s.

-- its not as sad as The Outsiders but not quite as peppy as Ferris Bueller's Day off. idk somewhere in the sliding scale of that.

-- the diner is called Xisuma's Odds and Ends (bc. theyre queer. odd. do u get it)(i think im funny)

-- imagine you're in Mels. now imagine youre in applebees. now imagine youre on a roadtrip and theres a diner that's been in business since your mother was a teenager and they have the BEST waffles. now imagine what it would have looked like if you were your mom as a teenager. now forget about applebees but not too much. now make it have a lot of hidden queer symbols. That's what Odds and Ends looks like.

-- they have a giant neon moon sign on the wall that Xisuma got for like ten bucks. s8 reference woo

-- i dont know if youve gotten this idea yet /s, but Odds and Ends is The Queer Hangout. Xisuma is the go-to guy if they get into any trouble. Be that whether Tango got caught spray painting things when he shouldnt be or someone needs to hide from an ex or their parents or they need to stop thinking about school for a little bit -- or, y'know, they want a burger -- Xisuma is always there to help. Or to give you a burger.

-- Evil X will help people (Tango) spray paint things for 5 dollars.

-- Ariana Griande DOES feature in this, even tho the celebrity ariana Grande was not born until 1993. She was a hobby of Grian's that he just. never dropped. He sings on thursdays.

-- keralis makes xisuma fish with him on occasion.

-- my all-time favorite hc for bdubs in any au is that hes a PR manager so hes studying communications and marketing rn.

-- jimmy is studying to be a veterinarian. aminals.

-- impulse is still figuring things out but right now hes working in a welding shop and he likes it there. he also blows glass sometimes.

-- XB is a baker. i just really like the idea of him baking bread. or anything really. he works at the bakery just across the street. Odds and Ends sometimes do trades with them. burgers in exchange for cookies.

-- mumbo is a cook. grian is a waiter. cleo is a manager. gem is a waitress. zed is also a cook, lord save us all. etho is a cashier. xisuma is THE manager. ren is a cook as well.

okay thats all i can think of for right now but you are ALWAYS welcome to ask/talk about the 80s au because i hold this very near and dear to my heart. also heres a sketch of the inside of Odds and Ends (giant moon sign not shown)

n e ways thanks for the askkkk xoxo

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. “…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

[petboymart]

more! because i have lost control over my life!

this is puppy!himekawa adoption story because as much as i love puppy!bokuto and all of the other popular pet boys i want more content for the under appreciated good boys

so anyway you adopt puppy!himekawa from a breeder, they had a litter of puppies a while ago and all of them sold except for him, so he grew up there for the most part because everyone else wanted a puppy and he was already 20 (like human 20 idk when that is in puppy boy years). and you were going to get a puppy, but then you looked at him, and he looked like he had no hope of being adopted, and you went yep. that one officer. that’s the one who stole my heart. his sentence is life with me.

so you walk up to him, and you crouch down, and you scratch his curly brown hair and little ears. and he just melts into your touch, poor touch starved baby. and then you get up to go tell the breeder you want him you scratch a few puppy ears on the way, but he sees and he gets all sad because he thinks you just pet him out of pity. but then after getting everything sorted with the breeder, you come back into the adoption room with a yellow leash and collar with a cute little bow and bell on it, and he just thinks it’s so cute, and he’s so envious that not only does a puppy get to go home with you, but you even bought them a cute collar too!!! but then you walk past all of them, right back to him, bend down, and clip the collar around his neck. and once it processes he licks all over your face so exited because he has a home now!!!

so you get him in the car and the entire ride home he’s staring at you with love struck eyes and his tail is going so fast because he’s so happy that someone picked him!! him!! over all the puppies!! what are the odds!! he thinks that you must be some kind of angel!! and because he is practically rescue dog age you assume he already has a name and he kind of sits there for a minute with his eyebrows furrowed and you’re like oh my god did that bitch seriously have him for that long and not name him?!? and then he just says HIMEKAWA!!! so exited with a big grin on his face and you think oh my god he just named himself, quick praise him so he knows you like it!!! then you tell him “well himekawa i think that you have a very pretty name!” and he looks so happy and proud omg.

then you get him home and you show him around and you show him all the toys you bought for him and he thinks this is heaven. i died and this angel human took me to heaven. but really you live in like a two bedroom apartment with one bathroom.

so he immediately loves you, for obvious reasons. and he gets so so sad when you go to work, and he begs and begs you not to go, he whimpers and whines, and the second time you were about to leave he started crying. (it didn’t happen the first time because he didn’t realize that you would be gone for that long) so you go to your boss who you’re very close with and your like, i’m gonna work from home, and they’re like ok i don’t give a shit and then your like ok but i need you to help me with something. and then the next day you get up and get dressed for work and pretend like your going to leave, and obviously the whole routine starts, and just as his eyes get teary you’re like you know what? i’m tired of leaving you for work! i’m gonna call my boss right now and tell them that i’m going to work from home! and he gets so exited and he watched you pull out your phone and call your boss, and you put in on speaker and “bargain” with your boss to work from home to spend more time with you puppy who you love very much and your boss finally “relents” and your little puppy is just so amazed that you did that just for him!!

so then on he either sits in your lap or rests his head on your thigh while you tap away on your laptop, or write, or sketch, so content that you’re home all the time now.

he’s very playful, he will paw and attack all of his toys, the little bell on his collar jingles with every move. he tried to cook to help out but he somehow started three fires and melted one of the pan handles, so he just cleans. and he was so guilty, he’s such a little cry baby, so he came up to you, tears streaming down his face, begging for forgiveness, and your like i hated that pan anyway, it never cooked things right! honestly you did me a favor. you’re such a good boy himekawa! and he brightens up so quick because he did something good! he’s a good boy!

now the thing about getting intimate with him is that he wants to get intimate, but he’s scared to ask. as we can all see, he’s not very assertive and he has some confidence issues. but one day you come home from the store to him in nothing but a pair of little yellow briefs that you bought him that match the only other item he has on, his yellow collar with it’s little bell and bow, and he smiles so big at you and runs up to you, to explain that oh i was washing the dishes and got water on my clothes isn’t that funny! i put them in the washer and i haven’t gotten changed yet.

and you just smile gently at him while grabbing his hand and walking to your bedroom. you gently lay him on the bed and start kissing his chest and neck, his eyes get so wide, you can feel his cock start to get hard under you. then you pull off all your clothes and his little yellow boxers and you ask him if this is ok, and he just burst out with pleads and begs to please please fuck him pretty pretty please he’ll be such a good boy, so you stroke his little cock before putting it in to ride him. and he’s just whimpering and whining with a death grip on your hips. he starts bucking up into you because it feels so good master please go faster please please.

and eventually he gets tired of how slow you’re going so he flips you over and pounds into your pussy while whimpering and whining, and he starts crying like the little cry baby he is. once he cums he drops down between your thighs and ears his cum out of you, making sure you cum while he’s down there.

he’s very much a bratty bottom just without the bratty. like he’ll flip you over to be on top because he wants to go faster or harder but if you tell him no he will apologize and beg for forgiveness, with tears in his eyes.

he very much likes to ride your thigh while you work. it feels so good being so close to you, but he never takes his clothes off and always cums in his pants.

he also likes to eat you out while you work. he loves the taste of your pussy, he loves the praise and the head pats. every time he eats you out when you work he cums practically untouched aside from some head scratches, hair pulling, and ear rubbing.

puppy!himekawa is a very good little crybaby boy and he loves you so much.

-✌️

i 🥺

HES SO CUTEEEEEE

AHSIHSOFUSIUFFK

puppy himekawa so cute

hes so sweet and obedient Im gunna cry abt it

also don’t stop 💞 let the brainrot take over 💞

AND UNDERAPPRECIATED PETBOYS ARE A MUST IN THIS STORE

THEY NEED LOVE TOO 💞💞💞

[nixotinix]

More convention advice!

Reminder that I'm not a con veteran, I'm a teenager with a distant relative who runs a big ol con. I'm relaying information that I've heard before.

This convention guide is all about etiquette at conventions and a convention survival kit! Let's get into it!

Con Etiquette

There's a lot of unspoken rules to follow at a convention. A few of them center around cosplaying. So let's start with the most important rule.

Cosplay. Is. Not. Consent.

That is the most important thing to remember. Cosplayers are people, they have their insecurities, they have their boundaries, and just because they're in a wig and some fancy clothes doesn't change that. Don't take a photo of a cosplayer without their direct verbal or certain nonverbal consent. If you're in a crowd and there's a lot of people taking a photo of a cosplayer, all you have to do is get the cosplayer's attention, hold up your phone or camera, point to said phone or camera, and give them a thumbs up. If they return your thumbs up, or nod, or show any other direct consent, go ham! Take your photos! If not, don't take the photo. Simple as that. Don't try to sneak photos either. They see that shit.

Also regarding photos. If a cosplayer is sitting down, on their phone, eating, or has parts of their cosplay off, do NOT ask them for a photo. Walking around in a wig and three layers of clothing isn't comfortable, and cosplayers need to rest. And don't stalk the area waiting for them to be finished, then ask to take the photo. They see that shit. If you have to ask them anything, ask them "Hey, I like your cosplay and I was wondering if you'll still be wearing it later". That's it. If they say yes, cool! Try to find them when they aren't resting and get your photo. If they say no, oh well. You don't get a picture. Boo hoo.

Oh, and don't sit in popular photoshoot areas, all you'll be doing is taking up space. Find a bench or a staircase or something to sit on. Sit on the floor if you have to, just don't sit by the pretty backdrops.

Don't touch the wig. Don't touch the prop. Don't touch the costume. Don't touch the person. Some of these things can be very fragile, and you have no way of knowing that. Sure, you can ask. But your answer will probably be no.

Don't be loud and annoying. Nobody likes to be around you if you're loud and annoying. And, I don't know if this is still a thing, but when I went to my last con or two, there was at least 2 groups of My Hero Academia cosplayers (no hate to MHA, it's just the most popular source for this kind of thing) who would circle around people and link hands while chanting some weird cryptic shit. That can make people freak out big time, and it isn't funny at all. Don't do it.

If you see something in the vendor's hall or artist's alley that you don't like, for example, fanart for a ship you don't like, walk past the booth and move on. Don't say anything. Don't blow up in the artist's/vendor's face about how that ship is toxic, or how they drew that character with bigger hadonkadonks than they have canonically. Just move on and don't make a scene.

And most importantly.. mind your personal hygiene!!!! You don't wanna be that person that makes people gag when you walk by. Shower once a day, because con musk is real and it's bad. Pack deodorant and USE!! IT!!! Don't make other attendees have to pack air freshener for when you walk by. And remember. Axe Body Spray or any kind of body spray at all does not equal a shower. A shower equals a shower!

Now for some rapid fire smaller tips.

Don't wear big headpieces during panels, especially if you're close to the front. It can block other people from seeing what's going on. Take it off and set it on the floor or in your lap. Same with phones. Don't hold them in places that blocks other peoples' view.

Unless you're on a bench or chair, keep walking. Don't block the flow of con traffic.

Don't ask cosplayers for a hug, kiss, a date, their contact info (depends), or inappropriate photos. And ask specifically if you want to be in the photo with them, as some cosplayers don't like this.

If you're cosplaying and bringing a prop weapon, be sure to get it screened and checked first thing so the con organizers know it isn't a potential threat. If it doesn't meet the requirements, it will either have to be modified or you won't be able to take it into the con. Check the requirements of your con for weapon screening.

Try to get your badge the day before the convention actually starts. If you try to get it the first day, you'll be waiting in line for half the day and you might miss out on some real cool events.

See something, say something. Don't be afraid of looking like a jerk when someone is being creepy towards you or someone else, or otherwise making you or them uncomfortable. Report that creepy person's ass to security or employees/volunteers as soon as possible.

Convention Survival Kit

-Remember the 4-3-2-1 rule for con weekends. Four hours of sleep a night, three activities that involve sitting down a day, two meals a day, and one shower a day. These are bare minimums, and if you dip below these minimums, you're gonna have a bad time.

-Deodorant! Again!! Hygiene, people!

-2 litres of water, at least for the full weekend.

-A snack bag!

-A backpack to hold everything with. Make sure everyone in your group has one. If you're cosplaying, fuck it! Theme it to your character. Get a secure padlocked one if possible to prevent pickpockets.

-A cosplay repair kit. Even if you aren't cosplaying, it can help out a cosplayer in need. Pack a sewing kit with a few thread colours, safety pins, bobby pins, hairties, eyelash glue, some simple makeup, things of the like. Maybe a hot glue gun, but that's pushing it.

-A first aid kit with bandaids, hand sanitizer, Ibuprofen, and gauze. Feel free to pack more, as this is the bare minimum.

-Any other necessary medications or menstrual products for you or your party members.

-Shampoo and conditioner. These might be provided by the hotel, but better safe than sorry.

-Makeup wipes! Good ones. To wipe off any makeup you were wearing at the con.

-Always have one person in your group with the Essentials Bag. First aid kit, cosplay repair kit, portable phone charger, snacks, water, money, and anything else that might be needed.

-Leave extra room in one of your bags to put anything bought into, then divvy it up at the hotel room.

-Portable entertainment! Card games, books, dice, anything really. As long as it doesn't take up too much space, you're good.

-Notebook or sketchbook. You never know when you might need an autograph, or a sketch, or the name of a business because their cards ran out. Pack a pen and a Sharpie too. Sharpies can write on anything, even those laminated schedule sheets.

-COMFORTABLE shoes. You'll be walking around all the time and your feet will hate you if you're walking around in stilettos. Does not apply to cosplay, but carry a pair of comfortable shoes that you can switch in and out of throughout the day.

-Cash! Yes, everyone uses cards now, but it never hurts to have an extra 20 bucks on you. Keep this money separate from anything you plan on spending at the convention and only use it for emergencies, like a gas refill or over the counter medication.

-If you wear glasses, pack your cleaning cloth.

-Chapstick and lotion. Save your skin.

-An art storage tube. Cylinder things. You're gonna buy some prints and you don't want them bending.

And that's all! If I forgot anything, let me know and I'll add it to the list. Next installment will be: Cosplay Contests- What They Are and How to Enter!

[recurring-polynya]

Do you have any advice for a newbie looking to get their first tattoo?

The first step is to think a lot about what you want to get and where on your body you want it. Look at a lot of pictures of tattoos. The place to do this is Instagram. I do not like Instagram and honestly, this is the only thing I use this for. At first, just look at all sorts of tatts and try to get a feel for what appeals to you and what doesn't. Save pictures of your faves. You don't need to look for things that are exactly what you want--you might like the linework in one and the coloring in another, but you're going to want to be able to put together a coherent "story" of what you want for your artist to work from.

Once you have a good idea of what you want, you will need to find an artist in your area (or an area you're willing to travel to). At least where I live, there are various studios and then artists work out of those studios who usually handle their bookings independently. (Note: I live in an American major metropolitan area, but not in the city itself) You may want to google studios near you, and they will have a website that lists their artists and offers some samples of their work. If you see someone you like, they may have their own Insta or website that shows more of their work. The artist will almost always have instructions somewhere in here for how to book them. The tattoo studio websites may also have instructions, but in my experience, it's better to contact the artist directly if you can. I am also lucky in that I have a lot of tattooed pals and we share recommendations. If you have inked friends, ask them about their experiences!!

A lot of artists will offer ready-to-go designs that are available, meaning, you can just sign up and they'll tattoo exactly that on your body. If you see something that's perfect, this will speed up the process a bit.

Otherwise, you contact them and tell them what you're thinking. DO read all their guidelines before you contact them-- most of the artists I've seen are very specific about what info they want you to provide. Once you've sent that in, if your idea sounds like something they want to do, they'll schedule a consult. My consult for my first tattoo was in person, and my guy had sketches for me to look at and we chatted about it. I was pretty happy with what he'd done and we scheduled a session after that. For my second tatt, we did the consult over email and she emailed me a draft. Some artists don't want to do this, it's up to them! My upcoming consult is over the phone for covid reasons.

Up to the consult stage, it's perfectly fine to not go with that artist. This is the part where "this is permanent" comes in. You might want to suggest big changes and they might try again or you might say "I'm gonna go with someone else". In both my cases, mine only needed minor tweaks and I trusted my artists, so we went forward. At that point, you put down a deposit (mine were ~$100) and schedule a session. Tattoos may take more than one session, but mine took one each.

Respectable tattoo studios take sanitation very seriously and that includes covid. Read through their guidelines and make sure you're on the same page with them. A friend of mine got a tatt a few months ago and said she felt like it was one of the most well-protected activities she did during the pandemic, but obviously there are going to be some studios that take this more serious than others. If you don't feel good about a studio find another one. There are many good and safe studios out there. Also, covid messed up a lot of peoples' schedules-- many artists may be backlogged and they may not be taking new clients right now, although it seems to me like things are starting to open up a lot more right now.

A few other tips:

- Read up on rates and be prepared for the cost including tip (15-20%). I have two relatively simple, B&W tatts and they were a couple hundred bucks. Elaborate tatts can easily run into the thousands. But remember, you're commissioning an artist, you should treat them with the respect they deserve!

- People always talk about the pain thing. Personally, getting tattooed is not painful to me, I actually kinda enjoy the sensation. People experience pain differently, though, ymmv. There are also parts of the body that are more or less painful if this is a concern for you.

- Read up on the aftercare process, just so you know what's involved. Generally, you've got about two weeks of washing it carefully and moisturizing, but you shouldn't go to the beach or get in a hot tub, etc, so you might want to plan around vacations.

I hope that helps and good luck!

[sylvie-writes]

In the Apple Fields.

Summary: You and Steve go on a double date with Bucky and his girlfriend, Ruth, to go apple picking in Saratoga.

Disclaimer: I know nothing about the 30’s/40’s so plz pardon the lack of detail in my writing and anything that is incorrect, I am trying to expand my writing field.

It was kind of hard for me to write this for whatever reason, so it didn’t go as exactly planned, I hope you still enjoy it though!

Warnings: none. besides my dumb-ass apple puns at the end (it was just so a-peeling) I’m done I swear.

As always, plz pardon any mistakes, the stories are always proofread but I tend to make many mistakes regardless.

Part of my Fall Writing!

“Hey doll! Ya ready for today?” 

You excitedly gripped the bright red telephone against your face, your cheeks heating up and a large grin on your lips. In the kitchen, your mother looked back from the stove, to see your childlike giddiness, a smile forming on her own face. 

When you were three, your mother and father moved to Brooklyn from Philadelphia, a better job presenting itself to your family. As soon as you moved in, two little boys, a few years older, came up to greet you and your family, the three of you soon clicking. Days later, you came to know them as Bucky and Steve. Your parents were all very close, a tight knit circle soon forming. 

And now 21 years later, you all were still just as close.

When Steve’s mother had passed, it was hard on everyone. Mrs. Rogers had the best personality, she was like a second mother to you.

When the news arrived that she had passed, Bucky had tried to get Steve to come over and live with them, the stubborn man refusing. Your undeniable love for him made you do just the same. Relentlessly, you’d bother him, bringing him muffins, taking him for lunch, yet not once did he ever budge. 

It was scary to think of Steve ever being homeless or not having any food, for his mother worked hard to make sure that it didn’t happen.

Steve and Bucky were two years older than you, and at the age of five you started developing a crush on the little blonde. Sure, he might’ve been smaller than other boys, but you loved him regardless.

It always crushed you to see Steve getting rejected or teased for the way he looked. In your eyes, he was just as perfect as any other man. As you guys became older, and dating became more prominent, you made sure to be there for Steve. He already had a spot reserved in your heart, if only he knew then. Bucky would try and set Steve up with other girls, but the second they rejected him, the blonde would sit on the sidelines, moping, until you’d find him and spend the whole night with him.

Eventually, Bucky caught on and you even truthfully confessed your feelings, making the man pinky promise on not telling Steve. 

Weeks passed until Bucky was finally over the two of you dancing around each other.

“C’mon punk! She’s totally into you!”

“You’ve lost your mind Buck.” 

Steve just shook his head and solemnly picked at the french fry basket in front of him. You were out shopping with some old friends from high school, when Bucky knew that now was the time to prep Steve.

“Why would I lie about this? She told me! I even made a pinky promise on it.”

Now Steve was full on laughing not realizing Bucky was being dead serious. When his laughter stopped, he saw Bucky’s unamused expression. 

“Wait, you’re being serious?”

“No shit, Sherlock. (y/n) loves you and you need to man up and ask her out, ya idiot.”

“Well, if you are being serious, how would I go about asking out (y/n)?”

“I’m glad you asked…”

And this is the part where Bucky pulls out a 20 slide presentation titled How To Ask Out A Woman. 

That morning Bucky had stopped to invite you for lunch later with them, but you politely rejected, for you had a day planned out with some other friends. When you told Bucky he seemed almost ecstatic which honestly kinda confused you.

Later that day, you’d find out. 

To be more specific, you’d be sitting on the couch, the doorbell ringing. Opening the door, you’d find a well dressed Steve, red roses in one hand, while the other anxiously swiped at his dangling hair. Soon after he’d hand you the roses, his meek voice would speak something along the lines of “Will you go on a date with me?” 

(Sorry about the weird switch of verb tenses) 

And of course you were over the moon! Happily, you rushed the man in and kissed him deeply, his cheeks turning crimson red causing you to giggle. The poor thing was so nervous, you were afraid he was gonna have an asthma attack from just asking you out. 

Now here you were, a year later. Happy with Steve, enjoying every date. 

“I’m so excited Steve!” 

You could hear the man’s laughter over the phone, your smiling only growing bigger. 

This was your first road trip in New York and you were delighted. Last week, you had even invested in some brown leather loafers for the trip, taking on many extra shifts at the library earned you those shoes and you’d treat them like gold from here on out. 

“I couldn’t tell, pumpkin. Bucky and I are gonna go get the car from his cousin’s, then you and Ruth.”

His small sarcastic quip made you giggle some more as you bid him goodbye. 

“Okay, I’ll see you then, darlin.”

“See you soon, angel!” 

Oh! And that’s another thing. 

Since Steve has been dating you, your parents, Bucky, even Bucky’s parents noticed he has a new found sense of confidence. 

Hanging up the phone, you sighed in bliss, picturing the lovely moments to come. Unfortunately your daydream was interrupted as your mother moved from the kitchen, folding her apron on the chair beside you. 

“You don’t want to be late, now do you, dear?” 

With that your mother pulled you away and into the bathroom, grabbing a comb, a red bandana, and some hairspray to pin up your hair. 

To match the hairstyle; navy overalls, a red and white striped shirt underneath, and you were soon prepared for the buggy and muddy fields of the apple orchard. 

An hour later, Steve showed up at your doorstep, holding a hand out for your own. You hugged your parents goodbye and looped your arm in Steve’s. 

The man planted a kiss on your cheek, his arm falling to wrap around your waist, giving a gentle squeeze. 

“Hiya sugar! How are you?” 

You both slowly walked in sync down the apartment stairs. 

“I’m better now that you’re here, honey!”

Turning your head, you threw a small wink his way. 

Steve, ever the gentleman, took your small duffel bag and threw it into the trunk of the convertible as you went to the driver’s seat. 

Kissing Bucky’s cheek, the man then pulled you in for a hug, disregarding the door separating you two.

“Hey doll-face! Excited for the trip I see?” 

You nodded your face and quickly went to the passengers seat. 

Ruth sweetly smiled at you, getting out of the car and embracing you in a hug. 

Out of all of Bucky’s girlfriends, Ruth was by far the sweetest one, the two of you quickly clicking. 

“Hiiiii (y/n)!!” 

“Hey Ruth!” 

“You look absolutely adorable, girly!”

Looking down at your clothes you smiled and returned the compliment to Ruth, taking in her own outfit. A pair of high waisted denim trousers, a white puff sleeve blouse, black loafers, and her strawberry blonde hair tied in a low ponytail. 

The two of you continued to make small conversation, awaiting Steve’s return, who then showed up not too long after. 

Ruth pulled down the passenger seat, allowing you and Steve to crawl into the back. With the sun out, and a small breeze, it was the perfect time for the convertible’s top to be off, after all, it was a three hour drive to Saratoga. 

The three hours passed quickly as you took in the scenery, Bucky making jokes, and you and Ruth singing along to the radio. 

Just as you were fifteen minutes away from the orchard, Steve picked up your hand and kissed it, a way to get your attention. You had been so caught up in helping navigate, and just goofing around, that you hadn’t even noticed what Steve had been doing the whole time. Your head immediately turned towards him at the affectionate gesture, a smile spreading on your lips as Steve showed you his sketchbook.

On the page, a beautifully sketched woman matching your attire, leaning against the car door, her hair slightly blowing in the wind although it was in an updo as yours. Soon your eyes traveled up to the woman’s face, a bright beam plastered on her lips as she was mid laugh, soon your eyes met hers and you came to realize that it was you.

At the bottom Steve penned his name and a sweet note.

For you my love. -Steven Rogers 

“Oh Stevie! It’s beautiful!

Carefully, you set aside the picture and flung your arms around his neck, leaving the man chuckling but soon holding you close. 

“All right kids, simmer down, we’re here now.”

You pulled back from the hug and shot Bucky a glare in the rearview mirror, to which he stuck his tongue out at you. 

As soon as Ruth stood up from her seat in the car, Steve scrambled to get out and around to your side, flinging open the driver door. You giggled at his chivalry and put your hand in his outstretched one. 

The four of you walked through the gravel parking lot, careful not to get rocks in your loafers. 

The woman at the gate politely greeted you all and handed each of you a burlap sack, explaining that the apples are priced by the pound. 

You and Ruth soon interlocked arms and bounded off into the orchard, leaving Bucky and Steve behind who kindly waved you both off. 

“I’m not gonna say I told you so, but… I told you so.”

Steve slapped Bucky’s arm that was wrapped on his shoulder.

“Oh shut up will ya, Buck?”

Bucky removed his hand in surrender before heading off to go find you and Ruth, Steve following suit.

Upon discovering you intermingled with the trees, Steve couldn't take his eyes off the sight in front of him. You and Ruth were happily picking the cortland apples for cider tonight, laughing about something you had just said, while playfully throwing apples to each other’s sacks.

In Steve’s mind, no picture could ever justify how beautiful and mesmerizing your smile was. He could just stare at you all day, a smile cemented onto his lips, and to say, that's exactly what happened.

The whole day as you all picked apples, and ran up and down the orchard, Steve was just grinned the entire time, adoring your every movement.

Later, many apples in the burlap sacks, Bucky and Ruth ahead, you looped your arms in Steve’s 

You just smiled, taking in the picturesque sunset behind the trees of the orchard. Out of the blue, it hit you that you were in love with this man, and it was about time he knew.

“I love you, Stevie.”

You turned from the sunset to kiss his cheek, the man freezing up and you were about to apologize for overstepping when he opened his mouth for a deep breath.

“I love you too, (y/n).”

The two of you then smiled like lovesick idiots before sealing the deal with a kiss, Bucky’s whistle and cheers ruining the moment.

“I’m gonna kill you, Barnes.”

Bucky just shrugged, turning back to the produce stand. The man beside you let out a small laugh at the goofy banter before gaining a surge of confidence pulling you into a kiss once more. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, soon laying back down as you smiled into the kiss.

“C’mon guys, save it for the hotel!” 

Pulling away, you picked up the sack of apples, going to the scale. Steve then offered to pay even after your relentless arguing about it. 

The burlap sack over your shoulder, you and Steve quickly caught up with Ruth and Bucky who were already close to the car. 

What better way to end a fun day with one of Steve’s terrible puns?

Ruth was locked into Bucky’s side, you doing the same with Steve, when the man beside you dug around in his pocket, an apple now in his hand. 

Lifting the apple to his eye, the blonde spoke up. 

“I’d say (y/n) is the apple of my eye!” 

Cue the playful groans from you, giggles from Ruth and the “atta boy” from Bucky. 

“Okay! Okay! Lemme just say that I’d like to apple-ogize for the pun…”

You couldn’t have picked a better boyfriend.

As they say, don’t judge an apple by its peel, and always look on the brighter cider of life.

I promise you will never see a pun from me again.

Taglist: @memissbee​ @tricereads​ @buckybarnesthehotshot​ @bval-1​ @tonystankschild​

the taglist is open! lemme know if you want to join!

[ohpsshaw]

~DFS Christmas Special~

No desire to draw lately, so I’ve been doing little prose sketches instead.

Just in time for December, here’s what turned out to be Uncle Jack taking Al Christmas shopping. This would be circa 199X B.G. (Before Glenn), making Al in his early 20s.

(Watch out if you have high blood sugar, cos this gets KINDA SACCHARINE.)

It had finally stopped snowing, thank goodness. The fresh white blanket reflected crisp light in through the windows, making him feel chilled inside. Luckily Pop was a comfort creature who kept a stock of hot chocolate mix in the pantry. Al never seemed to reach for it back at his apartment, but something about visiting home in the winter months made a warm mug feel as essential as a limb.

Uncle Jack had asked Al to accompany him for some holiday shopping later, and a chocolate briquette would be good to have heating his gut. He took it to the couch in the living room. Someone had dug up the old photo books and left them on the coffee table a few days ago. Flipping through, he noticed that half the pages were completely empty— photography had never been a popular concept in the Czar household. The preserved moments were of family trips and landmarks, rambunctious sepia-washed office parties, Al’s school portraits. Rarer was anything taken inside the house. One shot of himself at four or five years old, standing on the yellow-sunlit staircase and showing the camera a toy car, surfaced a memory of being coached to keep his mouth closed so as not to alarm a 1-hour photo developer. Thinking on it, it may have been more than coincidence that most of these were instant Polaroids.

Through the window, he heard the muffled sound of a car door, then: “What the fuck are you doing!?” Hey, Pop’s home. Al pulled back the curtain to watch the drama unfolding at the end of the driveway, where Uncle Jack had been chipping at the wall of powder the afternoon snowplow had left. Xav had just returned from morning errands and parked in the street, storming over the slush to stop his brother from working.

Cold air blasted from the foyer. Snow crunched as Xav shook out the snow shovel behind him. “Why was he doing this by himself? Did you become a quadriplegic when I wasn’t looking?”

Al flipped through the Rolodex in his head for the answer that would earn him the least amount of grief. He shrugged, as if confused by the absurdity of the question. “He didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t ask, Max.” Jack took the shovel back. “But you’re right, I should have. Reckon it was my vanity what did me in— I can’t stand to be upstaged by some young buck doing the same job in half the time.” He winked at his nephew. “Well, three-quarters.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Xav spat, the corners of his mouth curling up against his will. “You both know I’m not being unreasonable. You’re not a guest, Alan Henry. As far as I’m concerned, you still live here. You earn your keep during the day, and MAYBE I’ll consider putting on my robe and letting you suckle dinner from my left tit.”

Al choked on his hot chocolate.

“Shit. Careful on the carpet. I’ll get you a paper towel.” Xav left for the kitchen, grumble-exorcising demons as he walked. “If Papa caught one of us sitting on our ass while the other did chores...”

Why did Pop have to save his best lines for when people were eating? Bent over and lapping chocolate out of the crevices of his palm, Al thought he saw a piece of marshmallow among the bubbles. Heh... hope that didn’t come out of his nose.

“You still need me to shovel?” he asked Jack.

“Son, I would be honored,” Jack nodded, holding the shovel on the doormat like a knight leaning on an orange sword. “Gitcher boots on and you can finish the job before we head out. I’ll make sure your Pop watches the show from inside.”

Xav returned with the towels and a smirk. “Talking shit about me, Jack?”

“I was just sayin’ how you’ll hate to see us go, but you’ll love to watch us walk away.”

“Got that fucking right.” Al cleaned his face while Xav dabbed each of his fingers individually. An oddly tender gesture. “What are you two going out for, exactly?”

“Juuust... shoppin’. I need Alan’s opinion on somethin’.”

“Uh-huh.” Secrets being a rare and dangerous thing in this family, there wasn’t much question as to what this was really about. Especially between brothers who were as close as twins. But the holidays were about giving, after all, so Xav seemed to decide to give them the benefit of the doubt. A game is more fun when everybody plays along.

Truthfully, even Al wasn’t sure what they were going to get for his father. A successful family man hitting his sixties doesn’t want for much. By this point, Xav had enough neckties and “#1 Dad” mugs to be buried surrounded by them like a pharaoh. Jack could always steal the show by reaching into his deep D.D.S. pockets or by making a new piece of furniture, but the son was held to no such standards. Xav had simple hobbies, and he seemed to have the house exactly how he wanted it. Was Al too old to make a coupon book, redeemable for hugs and remembering to use a coaster?

Or maybe his gift to Pop could be giving college another shot. Dropping out had caused some... friction, a flint-strikes-wood situation that had led to Al moving out of the house, and eventually out-of-state. He had to admit, the independence felt good. Putting his shoes on the coffee table, not having to tell anyone where he was going... he’d definitely become more promiscuous. No independent murders, though, which was starting to grate on him. He’d realized lately that he had always expected to be allowed to do more, without his father and uncle. Maybe if he did what Pop wanted, things would calm down so he could move back to Michigan and use the cabin. But the idea of sitting in another classroom, taking notes on a subject he didn’t care about, all for the promise of 50 years chained to a desk... It made him want to sleep forever.

When the car pulled up to the mall, Al was not surprised at all by the entrance his uncle had chosen. “Mind if I peek in Sears?” Jack asked, as if wild horses could stop him.

Home improvement and appliance stores were another phenomenon Al only seemed to experience at home. The dusty, unvarnished smell and high ceilings had been a frequent backdrop during his childhood— for Jack, they seemed to be akin to a candy store. He was talented as a carpenter and repairman, and sincerely relished something going wrong with the house if it meant he could pull out his toolkit. He also liked to make things go wrong with human bodies on occasion, but there was a separate box for those tools waiting up at the cabin.

Two steps in the door, and a weary-looking holiday hire hit them up with a canned pitch: “...and I’m happy to help you find whatever’s on your list!“ Aggressive customer service, the bane of the paranoid shopper. Jack was the front line for shaking off overly helpful greeters, which Xav had called “the second-worst thing to come out of the 80s after Iran-Contra.”

“Just lookin’, God willing— I brought my conscience with me to make me behave,” Jack looked to his nephew. “Don’t let me buy a single screw, y’hear?”

“Got it. Bulk purchases only.” That earned Al a shove.

Salesperson successfully deflected, Jack ducked toward his usual corner: the big ticket carpentry goods. When Al caught up, he was running his hand over a table saw. As much as he loved his uncle, Al wasn’t particularly interested in watching him fantasize about cutting wood, or even bone. “You have a project in mind?”

“A bit of a science experiment, next time we play cards,” Jack’s pupils darted along the equipment, still in reverie. “I’ve been readin’ a book about crucifixions, and how they affect the body.”

“Oh, that’s seasonal.”

“‘Course, I won’t be able to try it ‘til next year. You think your Pop would let me pick out a rabbit by April?” Jack chuckled. He was not talking about the Easter bunny. “We can see if she comes back to life after three days.”

Al snorted. “Jesus.”

“Precisely. Y’know, Christ is usually depicted with holes in his hands, but in actuality, the Romans would have put the nails through his wrists.” Jack picked up Al’s arm to demonstrate, dancing fingers across his palm. “Ain’t much to take hold of in here. It’s too fragile and open-ended. But if you move up the arm,”— he pressed his thumb into the straightened portion of Al’s median nerve— “You can hook the radius and the ulna. Much better support.” Jack’s eyes flickered with glee. “And it hurts like a bitch!”

“Wait, are you going to go first, or last?” Playing cards was usually a once-a-year affair, and the night Al looked forward to the most. If Jack snuffed her out before he had his turn...

“Oh, don’t worry, son. Done right, she could last for days.” Not that she would, since Pop would probably have something to say about that. “I just want to try, er... doin’ as the Romans do. And who knows, maybe you’ll like it. Every bachelor eventually needs to have a girl nailed down!”

They cackled and then shushed each other, wincing like sneaky little boys at the idea that someone would hear them over the store’s ambient shopping muzak. They really shouldn’t talk like this in public, even with code words and euphemisms. Though over the years they’d learned that people can be experts at ignoring what’s right under their noses. Certainly none of the men had ever overheard anyone else planning a murder.

“It’s just a pipe dream, I’m still in the plannin’ stages,” Jack added. “Ain’t even got the lumber yet. So if you wanna put some packages under the tree that are, say, 4-by-6 and 72 inches long... I promise to be shocked when I unwrap ‘em.”

Al’s attention shifted over his uncle’s shoulder, to a shelf of handheld orbital sanders. Al was more of a hands-on kind of guy— he still got a little queasy thinking about Jack’s experiment to see which sandpaper grit was the best at removing skin.

“So what was it you wanted me to look at? I don’t think Pop needs a crucifix for Christmas.”

“Oh, I’m just killin’ time before our appointment.”

“Appointment?”

“At the photo studio. I want you to give your Pop a picture.”

“...of us?”

“Naw, just you.”

Al loved that. “Yeah, that’d be hilarious. Merry Christmas, Pop, I got you me!”

A pause. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“As a heart attack, son. It’s just what he needs.”

“Do you have, I don’t know, a backup plan?” Al faltered. “Something less self-centered? I’m not exactly his favorite person right now. He kind of thinks I’m a failure.”

“Alan, you are not a failure. You are...” Jack patted his nephew’s cheek. “An unbroken mustang who has not yet found his ranch. And your father is just tryna keep you from bein’ sold as horse meat.” He slid them into a far aisle for more privacy. “He worries about you a lot, and he misses you somethin’ fierce.”

Al chewed his cheek. “Well, talk to him about showing it sometime.”

“No, son,” Jack took him by the shoulder, looking around to make sure they were alone. “Your father cries. At night when he talks about you, he starts wellin’ up like a waif. He doesn’t need to hear that you know about it, but it’s the God’s honest truth. All he talks about is wantin’ you back home.”

“I think movin’ out has been good for you, and I’m happy you did it. But it wounded him to his core. You’re his heart, kid.”

Al wasn’t sure how he was taking this information, but he knew how he was supposed to. He scrunched his eyes closed and took a deep breath.

“Okay... If you’re completely sure he won’t think it’s stupid.”

“Are you kiddin’? He’ll put it on the nightstand.” Jack grinned. “And if you smile for it real nice, I’ll take you to that steakhouse in the plaza after.”

Al cocked an eyebrow. “You were gonna go there anyway.”

“Yes. Yes, I was. But won’t you enjoy your ribeye that much more knowin’ you’ve earned it?” Mmn, maybe. “Besides... did you have any better ideas?”

⬥ ⬥ ⬥

Come Christmas Day, Xav had unwrapped the waist-up portrait and just said “thank you”— which was worrying because he was usually much more verbose than that— and gone silent in his chair. At least he wasn’t mad. Al looked to Jack, who smiled knowingly and handed him a package to keep the gift exchange going.

Al figured it was because Jack had given him something funny, but then he heard his father breathe in sharply.

“Maudit tabarnak... you fucking assholes,” Xav’s voice sounded high and squeaky, like it was being squeezed through slabs of rock. He ducked his chin into his bedshirt collar to hide his face.

“You, fucking... why’d you have to...” He shook his hand at the framed photo. Oh boy, he really did hate it. The whole idea was idiotic. Al had sat in front of that artfully-mottled green backdrop and squinted for a man with a bow tie and no indoor voice for nothing, except for the sheer discomfort of it. And a ribeye steak with a baked potato.

Xav blinked up at the ceiling and gulped, his Adam’s apple fluctuating grotesquely. Eventually he seemed to find his voice again. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having pictures taken, so I could make sure he had his fucking hair combed?” He showed them the photo. “Look at his bangs— they’re all over the fucking place.”

Al had to admit, they did look a little wild. “Aw, shoot. Sorry, Pop,” he laughed.

Jack tutted. “I think it looks nice. Rugged.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to comb your hair either, Jack.” Xav brought the photo back into his lap, looking it over. “Looks like he fought a bear before sitting down. But don’t worry, I still like it. You look handsome, kid. Maybe I can find some space on my nightstand.” Al and Jack exchanged victory grins, and didn’t catch Xav wiping tears from both eyes.

[hb-pickle]

Into the Unknown: Making Frozen 2 - Review

Finally finished watching all 6 episodes of the Frozen 2 Documentary! My consensus is drum roll please... it was not very good.

Things I liked first: I loved watching the team get emotional when they saw their projects coming together (finishing Into The Unknown, etc). 

Watching random guys rub rocks together for sound design was funny. 

I loved looking at the Disney offices and all the merch, posters, art, etc. 

The actors/workers were very charismatic and believable. They seemed to legit enjoy their work and were happy to help. 

- -

Criticism: 

The documentary promised to be a look into all the hard work, collaboration, blood, sweat and tears, it took to make Frozen 2, but it came off more as a look into the very final stages of Show Yourself and a few unfinished animation clips. So little of the actual movie making process was shown and it was extremely misleading and frustrating.

-

Songs:

Songs and the songwriting process were definitely the aspect of F2 Disney was most comfortable showing, but that’s saving very little because the attention per song was extremely restricted and lopsided. About 50% of the entire docu-series focuses on just Show Yourself while every other song gets about 20 to 1 minute(s) of screentime (in order from most to least discussion, it goes: Next Right Thing, Into The Unknown, Lost In The Woods, Some Things Never Change, When I’m Older, All Is Found, and Vuile isn’t even mentioned by name). And even when they did discuss these songs, they only showed the lyrics that got into the movie, no cut lyrics or alternatives were shown at all. So it was just long extended scenes of Jenn and the Lopez’ trying to decide whether they should or should not add parts to the song which we, as the viewer, already know were added. And again, they showed no alternatives, so it wasn’t a choice of A or B, it was A or maybe rewrite the middle-ish but no specifics. 

They didn't even discuss the public outtakes / deleted scenes they've already released / planned to release like "Get This Right", "Seek The Truth", "Unmeltable Me", etc (they did mention “See They Sky” but nothing else). 

The last thing I’d like to mention for this category is that they did discuss the intended emotions / themes of the songs they kept in. They talk about how Show Yourself was supposed to make you feel empowered and satisfyingly wrap up the story, how Next Right Thing was supposed to make you feel just as emotionally raw as Anna, etc. So I can give them credit for that. But again, these explanations became few and far between once they got into the “lesser” songs. Nor do they explain why certain songs were added to the story; for example When I’m Older’s entire existence was justified with “kids really liked it”. “Lost In The Woods” was an 80’s rock ballad because they kinda just wanted to make a 80’s song, etc.

-

Animation:

Again, just like the songs, Disney was very comfortable showing off the animation process, but only unfinished clips, models, skeletons, etc of shots that were actually used in the film and nothing else. But, I did have fun watching animators physically act out character movements, record them, and then animate them (ex: that poor girl who recorded like 5 shots of her own face singing, all super imposed on bobbing reindeer shaped bubbles for the Lost In The Woods scene lol).

The most new/deleted content they showed were storyboards and sketches of Show Yourself  where we got to see alt. backgrounds of Ahtohallan and young Iduna and and See the Sky which was a dance-off type thing between the Northuldra / Arendelle soldiers.

-

Story:

This, and every consecutive category, is where this documentary was severely lacking. They showed no alternative scenes or storylines like “Hard Nokks” or the secret library. Nor did they go into the intended messages/significance of the story elements they did use, like why they chose to trap the Enchanted Forest in mist, why they spared Arendelle, why Elsa left Arendelle, why they chose a dam for the physical boundary they needed to destroy (even though apparently it was loosely based on an IRL dam that hurt the IRL Sami people; I got this from outside resources), etc. 

They also don’t dive into any character motivations (outside of the context of Elsa in Show Yourself/Into The Unknown, Anna in Next Right Thing, and Kristoff in Lost In The Woods). 

They very explicitly refused to discuss any changes they made to the script. In episode 5 they spend a lot of time emphasizing the importance of audience feedback but refuse to show any actual feedback (they even talk about how they gave out questionnaires but don’t even show us a blank one). This was very blatant and annoying because they spent a lot of time looking DIRECTLY at the camera going on about how important feedback was, how being willing to change was important, how they DID change things, and how change impacted a lot of the movie (ex: cutting songs and simplifying things for children), but refused to show anything. The one (1) change they did show was the prologue, so we see young Anna and Elsa playing before we see Agnarr's flashback, but that was pretty much it. 

-

Design / Environments:

Character design and dress design was not discussed at all. They do show us a few seconds of fabric physics for Elsa’s spirit dress and show us how they designed Olaf when he was pretending to be Grand Pabbie (using his snowball feet as ears and ferns as a cape), but nothing else. You’d think that since Elsa and Anna both had like 5 costume changes each, they’d want to discuss that, but no. Nor do they even mention Iduna’s shawl / the unity snowflake which had a ton of significance in the movie. They also don’t discuss the designs of the spirits or their symbols (or even water animation for the Nokk’s body which would’ve been perfect in the animation portions). 

-

Research: 

The only research we see them doing is visiting IRL glaciers for Ahtohallan in episode 3. This was neat and all, but also very bittersweet because they really emphasized how spectacular and breathtaking Ahtohallan was going to be, but it was literally just an empty cave made of ice; and not even shiny ice (like Elsa’s castle) just dark, flat, and blue. Like I know creating environments is hard but Ahtohallan is very literally empty besides a few extremely narrow hallways and dark colorless abysses. Like it may have been hard to build in a computer but it was NOT creative nor something to boast about (especially compared to the concept art they showed). But this is all my opinion...

They do show a black sand beach which greatly inspired the black sea, but otherwise they don’t show the research it took to properly replicate the Enchanted Forest (like plant life and ecology) nor any of the locations Elsa and the gang briefly passed through on the way to the forest. 

Most egregiously of all they completely omit the Sami community and their contributions to the film. They don’t address them by name or even acknowledge the Northuldra are based on them. Nor do they mention the apparent collaboration they did with the Sami community to accurately replicate their culture. The closest they get to acknowledging them or their hand in the creation of F2 was that the subtitles described Vuilie was a "yoik". Which does not count, since no one even says it out loud. You could dismiss all my other complaints about the lack of content and deleted scenes, but this is just flat out disrespectful. 

-

Ending Note: 

To me, I just don't see the point of this. If this entire documentary was condensed into an hour long YouTube video and explicitly only about the songs/animation I would've been perfectly happy and would've given this an A! Maybe even more because the little parts about the sound design and interviews with the cast would've been little bonuses. But I can't because this is a 6 episode Disney+ only "documentary" on all of F2. 

Tl;Dr - I expected a lot more, but was severely disappointed. I wanted an inside sneak peak on the making of one of Disney’s most iconic and my personal favorite IP, but instead I got 240 minutes of Jennifer Lee and the Lopez’ trying to feel the vibe of Show Yourself and crying. Surely they could’ve cut some of that out to talk about literally anything else. Watching this just felt pointless and I was never engaged nor were my curiosities satisfied. 

-

Extra Note:

For about 10 minutes at the end of one episode (which may seem short but that’s like ¼ of an episode), the documentary takes a detour to talk about Ryder Buck. Ryder Buck was Chris Buck’s (one of the director) son who died shortly after F1 was released, and I mean no disrespect but the sequence dedicated to him had nothing to do with the film or documentary. One of the F2 character’s was named after Ryder, but that was the only connection (they don’t even mention if Ryder in Frozen was based personality-wise on IRL Ryder, just that they shared a name). The whole 10 minute sequence was literally just a charity event in Ryder’s name and Chris and his wife sitting on a mountain talking about how they miss him. Again, no disrespect and I’m sorry Ryder Buck died so young, but a documentary on Frozen 2 wasn’t an appropriate place or time to talk about him.

Crossing out this section because some people took this as an opportunity to attack Chris Buck and his son, which is completely unacceptable and disgusting.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHAT I DID THIS THE BUBBLE GOT RIGHT

Like skirmishers in an ancient army, you want to be forced to figure out how to scale investing. If someone starts being rude, other users will step in and tell them to stop. When we make something in America, our aim is just to get you talking. We can stop there, and have something crude but serviceable, like a charcoal sketch. And whichever side wins, their ideas will also be considered to have triumphed, as if God wanted to signal his agreement by selecting that side as the victor. For nearly all of history the success of a society was proportionate to its ability to assemble large and disciplined organizations win needs to have a disproportionately low probability of the latter. We can afford to take more risk, and can start more startups total in their careers. And Microsoft is going to come back with the money; the only question is how much on what terms.

The worst ideas we see at Y Combinator are from young founders making things they think other people will want. And most importantly, what are you interested in? In the so-called real world this need is a great curiosity about a promising question. Wrong. Having your language designed by a committee is a big pitfall, and not just for the reasons everyone knows about. To see fashion in your own time, different societies have wildly varying ideas of what's ok and what isn't. This is a new essay for the Japanese edition of Hackers & Painters. So if you want to fight back, there are ways to do it than literally making a mark on the world, but have no other way to do that is to visit them. The eight men who left Shockley Semiconductor to found Fairchild Semiconductor, the original Silicon Valley startup, weren't even trying to start a startup, it's easier to say you suck than to figure out how to scale investing.

If some new technique makes solar cells x% more efficient, that seems strictly better. But really what motivates us is the completely amoral desire that would motivate any hacker who looked at some complex device and realized that with a tiny tweak he could make it run more efficiently. In the last 20 years, smoking has been transformed by a combination of factory farming and innovations in food processing into something with way more immediate bang for the buck, and you can even work on your own stuff while you're there. They still rely on this principle today, incidentally. Hardy said he didn't like math in high school and someone asked about my plans, I'd say that my first priority was to learn what the options were. If they don't have a problem doing acquisitions, the others should have even less problem. There's something about big companies that just sucks the energy out of you. One of the most successful countries, in the same portfolio-optimizing way as investors.

An ambitious kid graduating from college in 1960 wanted to work in the other direction. I was eight, I was rarely bored. When you stretch before running, you put your body into positions much more extreme than any it will assume during the run. Where the just-do-it model fails most dramatically is in our cities—or rather, exurbs. Brevity is underestimated and even scorned. And just as there is nothing wrong with yellow. And yet every May, speakers all over the country fire up the Standard Graduation Speech, the theme of which is: don't give up on your dreams. So it's likely that visitors from the future would agree with at least some of the effect of first class functions or recursion or even keyword parameters.1 C: Assembly language is too low-level. The best way to do this? This technique won't find us all the things we can't say that are true, or at least something like a natural science. People who worry about the increasing gap between rich and poor generally look back on the default explanation of people living in fallen civilizations.

Opinions we consider harmless could have gotten you in big trouble.2 There your job is largely a matter of destiny, the mere unfolding of some innate genius. I haven't decided.3 If I were talking to a guy four feet tall whose ambition was to play in the NBA, I'd feel pretty stupid saying, you can get away with this in movies and software because they're both messy processes. I liked. The millennia-long run of bigger-is-better left us with a lot of things for the better. Some will be shocking by present standards. It's hard for them to start with the labels. Could a trend based on them be that powerful? Dylan: Scheme has no libraries, and Lisp syntax is scary. Some tribes may avoid wrong as judgemental, and may instead use a more neutral sounding euphemism like negative or destructive. That's not a radical idea, by the way; it's the main difference between children and adults.

I think most Japanese executives would be horrified at the idea of building Facebook in 2004: organic startup ideas usually don't seem like startup ideas at first. Because a glider doesn't have an engine, you can't fly into the wind without losing a lot of big, serious programs started as throwaway programs. How many times have you heard hackers speak fondly of how in, say, APL, they could do amazing things with just a couple lines of code? A lot of the questions people get hot about are actually quite complicated. Hasn't she been taught to be? Suppose your company is making $1000 a month now, and choose those that will give you the most promising range of options afterward. And since risk is usually proportionate to reward.

Notes

A investor has a great thing in itself deserving. Make sure it works on all the other extreme—becoming demoralized when investors behave upstandingly too.

One father told me how he had to for some students to get fossilized. The amusing thing is, obviously, only Jews would move there, and instead of using special euphemisms for lies that seem excusable according to certain somewhat depressing rules many of the most accurate way to put it this way, they'd have something more recent. And no, unfortunately, I preferred to call the Metaphysics came after meta after the Physics in the beginning of the big winners aren't all that matters, just that they're really works of anthropology.

Interestingly, the other. The application described here is Skype. Investors influence one another directly through the buzz that surrounds wisdom in so many different schools of thought about how to appeal to space aliens, but they seem to want them; you have to tell VCs early on. I explained in How to Make Wealth in Hackers Painters, what that means service companies are up-front capital intensive to founders would actually increase the size of a startup than it would have undesirable side effects.

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch13

Ok, art challenge officially flunked.  I managed 12 chapters though and as someone who did not art I think I’ve spent more time being creative over the course of this fic than I have in the last 20 years cumulatively.  I’m still going to keep drawing (I’m actually quite enjoying it) but the writing and sketching schedules are not aligning.

@willow-salix has been incredibly patient with me, it would probably be a very different (and much shorter) story without her.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Thirteen

Jeff had been surprised to get out of his meeting and find the memo on his desk.  He hadn’t known his eldest son was coming home so the request that he make it back in time for dinner was pleasant if unexpected.  It would be nice to have another adult in the house.  Maybe having Scott around for a few days would set a good example to Gordon and get him to buck his ideas up; his fourth son was still being a distinct trial on his patience. 

He entered the apartment to snippets of conversation and laughter that drifted down from the kitchen.  Scott’s clear voice carried strongly down the hallway and the sound of his eldest brought a smile to his face and he hurried through to see the son he now saw the least of. 

“Evening Gordon” a quick, curt greeting to one son before turning to the other, “Scott, this is a pleasant surprise, how come you’re here?”

“Hi Dad.  I just had some leave owing, I thought I’d come back and see you folks.  It is ok for me to stay isn’t it?”

“Course it is, Son, this is your home after all.”

“Thanks.  Dinner’s nearly ready, it needs another, what, ten minutes?”  Scott looked across at Gordon for confirmation and got a nod in return. 

“Great, I’ll just go get washed up.  Where’s Alan?” he asked, noting that the table had only been set for three.

“Senior science club.  You’d know that if you paid any attention to his schedule.”

The animosity radiated off of Gordon and Jeff noted the warning hand Scott placed on his younger brother’s arm, urging him to keep his cool.

“Fine. Well, I’ll be back in a few minutes boys.”

As Jeff exited the kitchen Scott turned to Gordon, still keeping hold of his arm.

“Look, I know things aren’t great between the pair of you…”

“Understatement” he was interrupted with a snort and an eye roll.

“...but please don’t make things any harder than they have to be.”

“Fine, I’ll be a good boy.”

“Gordon…!”

“Ok.  No arguing with the old man, I get it.  Now, can you let go of me please, I need to turn the stove off.”

Scott released his brother who turned back to the bubbling pans on the stove and put the finishing touches to the meal he was preparing.  They carried the plates and dishes over to the table between them and waited for their father to join them before starting.  The smells coming out of the pots were really quite tempting, it looked like Virgil was right when he said their brother had hidden talents.  The meat was grilled to perfection and the sauce was full of flavour.

“This is delicious Scott.” Jeff commented after spearing a piece of broccoli.  

“Actually, Gordon cooked, I just did what I was told.”

“Hmpf, at least one of you can follow instructions then.  Did you finish your personal statement Gordon?  I want to see it after dinner.”

Scott realised that the arguments clearly flowed both ways.  No wonder Gordon had been so miserable if every achievement was overlooked and every opportunity to take a dig at his failings was fully exploited.  With every passing minute they were in close proximity, and each sniping comment from their father, that fragile confidence he had bolstered was visibly leaching out of Gordon.  He noticed with concern that Gordon’s plate was still worryingly full.  How could a man that was meant to love his children equally be so complimentary to him in one breath and scathing to Gordon in the next?  He had always been prepared to excuse their father’s faults, the long hours of work and pushing responsibility onto himself and Virgil was an unfortunate consequence of a man trying to do his best for his family, but he couldn’t stay quiet over tonights’ injustice.  Placing down his fork he took a deep breath and prepared to enter the fray.

“Actually Dad, Gordon and I have been busy this afternoon.  It’s my fault he hasn’t done it.”  

“Well he can work on it after dinner then, the next college application cycle will be closing soon.  Perhaps you can give him some pointers.” 

“I’ll help Gordon with his application but it won’t be for college.” 

Jeff, sensing insubordination, narrowed his eyes.  He had come to expect it from Gordon but Scott had always followed his lead.  This new development was surprising.

“Well what else would he be applying for?” 

“WASP.”  It came out slightly louder than Scott intended causing the surrounding silence to deepen ominously.  He held his father’s gaze and set his jaw in determination.  He had committed to supporting Gordon and was prepared to make a stand.

“Not that nonsense again”  The rebuttal was swift and accompanied by the clatter of steel against crockery as the remains of the meal were abandoned.  Jeff’s anger rose swiftly at the mention of the aquanaut patrol.  “He’s too young and hardly has the right temperament to follow orders.  Even if they would accept him he would probably be court marshalled out within a month and I will not have that sort of shame brought on the family”

“He won’t be too young in February and he has exactly the right temperament to join as an officer.”

Now it was Gordon’s turn to be surprised.  He was grateful to Scott for his support in joining WASP but to hear his brother thought he should be an officer was a step further than he had ever considered.  He had been staying silent during the verbal tennis match between Scott and his father, trying his hardest not to inflame the situation.  Tensions around the table were escalating.  Scott had always deferred to their father previously but his time in the Air Force had him used to being in command and now it was like watching the alpha male and the young contender circling for dominance in the pack.  He wondered if the comment was deliberately designed to challenge their father or if Scott really meant it.

“Gordon?  An officer?  You cannot be serious about that.”  There was derision at the mere thought of Gordon taking a role of responsibility.

“I’m perfectly serious.  You never saw him at Marineville.  You never heard what his assessors said about him.  If he hadn’t had to withdraw from selection they were going to offer him a commission, they could see he was wasted in junior ranks and I have to say I agree with them.  WASP selection makes the Air Force tests look like a cake walk but Gordon was good out there.  If he wants to go into WASP then I for one will support him, it would be nice if you could support him too.”

“I think I know how best to support Gordon and that is in continuing his education, that’s if Gordon is even still eligible for college.”  Jeff reached into his jacket and drew out an envelope, it was addressed to Gordon and bore the marks of the California Department of Education.  He slid it across the table.  “This was in the mailbox downstairs.  I was hoping to talk to you about it privately, Gordon, and save you any embarrassment, but seeing as your brother is determined to play a part in your future we may as well discuss this now.  I can only assume there has been some error in the awarding of your high school diploma.” 

Scott looked at the envelope with some concern.  If Gordon really had flunked his diploma then becoming an officer was off the cards and even junior ranks looked doubtful.  WASP really could afford to take only the best and this could be a major stumbling block.  His younger sibling paused for a moment, trepidation etched across his features, before reaching out and picking up the letter. 

“Took them long enough, I’ve been waiting for this.”  There was something in his tone that Scott couldn’t quite place; more nervous anticipation than worry.

Gordon slit open the envelope slowly, as if not wanting to see what it contained despite having been expecting it.  A single sheet was carefully extracted and it only took Gordon a moment to read the short correspondence.

“Bastards.”  The exclamation was spat out as the page was thrown down in disgust.

Whatever reaction Scott and Jeff had been expecting it wasn’t this.  

“Gordon, what’s going on?” Scott butted in, cutting off their father from issuing a rebuke for foul language.

“They won’t change the topic.”

“Topic?”  Scott looked at his brother in confusion.

“Yeah” Gordon sighed heavily, too exhausted to maintain the mask he normally wore around his father. The anger in his features mixed with pain as the memories resurfaced.   “You wouldn’t have had to do this one back in Kansas but California have a unit on Modern American History and Dad here is a compulsory assignment.  I wrote and asked them to take it off the curriculum.”

“Why would you try and do that?  I know things aren’t great between you two at the moment but surely you don’t want to wipe Dad out the history books.”  He tried to place a reassuring hand on Gordon’s forearm but the limb was yanked out of his reach.

“This isn’t about Dad, it’s about ALAN!”  Gordon dropped his head into his hands, his elbows slamming painfully against the tabletop.  Grief and a sense of failure bubbled up inside him as he hid his face from twin questioning gazes.  He hated showing weakness, hated giving his father yet more ammunition to throw back against him, but the memories were too strong to repress.

“What the hell has Alan got to do with this.  Seriously Gordo, you aren’t making any sense.”  First it was about school, now it was about Alan.  Scott felt like he was trying to read a book with half the pages missing.  He was sure it made sense somehow but at the moment all he knew was that Gordon was clearly upset and hurting.

Jeff snorted, choosing to ignore the deep breathing as Gordon fought to maintain control.  “I dare say your brother will do a better job than you when the time comes.  From what I remember of that paper you barely scraped a pass grade.  It really says something about your abilities when you can screw up what should have been the easiest assignment of the lot.  It’s your own family for goodness sake.”

“Easy?”  The blonde head snapped up, locking eyes with his father and channeling the grief into anger.  “That was the hardest paper I’ve ever had to write in my life and it’s going to be ten times worse for Alan.  At least I wasn’t mentioned by name.” 

“Gordon, what’s going on?”  The rising flush of emotion to his brother’s cheeks filled Scott with concern.

“The paper, it’s not just about Dad, Mom’s in there too.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to have the worst moment of your entire life there in the set text for the whole class to see?  The avalanche, Mom dying, Alan surviving, it’s all there.  They didn’t even have the decency to put it in the main text either, it’s just a footnote like it isn’t really important.  Our Mom’s death is a fucking footnote and I didn’t want Alan to have to deal with it like I had to, it’s not like I’ll even be here to help him when the time comes.  Ever since Dad decided I was going to be packed off to college I’ve been trying to get it changed.”

“That...that sucks.”  Scott couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to have to face their own personal tragedy in the classroom.  What it evidently had been like for Gordon.  “But Alan won’t be dealing with it alone, Dad will be here.”

“What, like he was here for me?  You and Virgil were better parents than Dad has ever been.  He only cares about the bottom line.  Make the grade and nothing else matters.”  The chair was shoved back angrily.

“Gordon, you should have told me.” Jeff cut in quietly, his face ashen at the sudden reminder of the tragedy that had ripped his wife away forever.  That Scott and Virgil were viewed akin to parents by the younger ones rather than just brothers was also a shock.  Had he really been so far removed from his family?  What else had he been blind to?  His eyes tracked backwards and forwards, trying to keep pace with Gordon who was now striding about erratically on the opposite side of the table in a display of energy Jeff suddenly realised had been absent for many weeks.

“I tried to but you weren’t exactly in a listening mood.  You were too busy bawling me out for getting suspended.” 

“You got suspended?”  How much had he missed out on in the last seven years?  If Gordon had ever confided this to Virgil his next younger brother had never shared the burden of knowledge.  The Gordon he had left behind may have been a bit of a pest at school with the occasional prank or missed homework but nothing that would warrant him getting suspended. 

“Guess some of my screw ups Dad didn’t even want to share with the family.  Yes Scott, I got suspended.  I...well...I got upset in class and some of the others kept going on about it and then one day I snapped.  Ended up breaking someone’s nose.  The Principal took it off my permanent record though when he found out what it was over.  I think he felt sorry for me.”

“So you tried to get the Department of Education to drop the topic.”

“Yes.” Gordon picked up the letter again, a look of disgust crossing his face.  “They won’t though.  They ‘thank me for my concerns and provide their strongest assurances of the factual accuracy of the text books’.  He’s got another year to go yet but when he gets there please look after Alan” this plea was directed straight at their father,  “cos I can’t if I’m at college and it’s going to be rough for him.”

Scott found the disgust mirrored in his own features, not just at the Education Board, but also for the actions of their father who had clearly skipped out on the emotional wellbeing side of parenting.  Gordon had faced the demons alone and was now doing his level best to protect Alan.

Any further discussions were cut short by the arrival home of that same small, blonde hurricane.

“Scott!  When did you get here?”  Alan launched himself across the room and draped himself around Scott’s neck, nearly strangling his older brother.  The new arrival seemed unperturbed by the obvious tensions around the table and Scott wondered just how normal it had become for the youngest to be surrounded by bad feelings and barely concealed arguments.   

“Hey, let a guy breathe.”  The clinging arms loosened slightly but weren’t released completely and Scott returned the hug.  “C’mon, we’ve finished here.  Do you need to eat?  Any homework due tomorrow?”  

A shake of the blonde head.  “You’re as bad as Gordon.  What is it with everyone checking up on my homework?”

As bad as Gordon, not as bad as Dad; Scott filed that away for the next time he spoke to Virgil.  He had been so happy to be free of the responsibilities of family that he had never really considered who had stepped up to take his place.   

“Well if you’re sure you’re good let’s go somewhere more comfortable, you’re pushing me off this chair.”

Jeff watched as Scott unhooked Alan’s arms and led the party through to the lounge.  Those were the questions he probably should have been asking as a father but hadn’t thought to.  Scott had stepped in first as though checking in on the youngster was the most natural thing in the world.  

All traces of the argument were put to one side for the sake of the youngest but the look Scott shot Jeff showed that the discussions were far from over.    

[kiaronna]

I would just like to say that School’s Out For the Summer gives me life and that all the Lonelyeyes moments are absolute perfection

Thank youuuuu!! SCOFS was super fun to write and helped me deal with the horrors these characters were going thru in canon lolol. COPING. I COPE

To be honest, a real challenge in this fic was making Elias n Peter non-threatening and fluffy but still in character?? Making them lil just. Really helped. They are mean bc school is hard and their circumstances suck. Elias just wants to go on one (1) date w/ his crush. Most LonelyEyes HCs I had for that fic did not fit into the flow, and JonMartin needed focus & grounding after their get together. Anyway what I'm trying to say is, here are some LonelyEyes HCs from teacherverse. they are long and if you didn’t read SCOFS they make no sense so I’ve placed em under the cut

-Remember their date plan? Peter legit has a chauffeur but Martin drives him bc Martin is Unofficial Dad. Jon was gonna drive Elias but. Jon accidentally muses about hanging out (COUGH going on a date) with Martin while they wait to drive them back and the idea of their respective dads hanging around while they’re on a date drives Elias into Embarrassed Teen Rage. So Elias takes the bus. Martin also muses about a waiting date w/ Jon but does it 100% on purpose on the drive over while Peter Suffers

-They do get fish & chips and people watch at a cute market. Elias likes this for obvious reasons and Peter likes it bc it fulfills his i-am-here-and-you-all-are-over-there needs.I very specifically picked this date plan even tho it sounds stupid bc it’s perfect for their personalities and it is the type of first date plan people their age would manage to execute. in my day dating at that age was like. going to the mall w/ ur parents in the background

-In the fic Martin says Elias dropped by the Lukas estate “a few” times over the summer. Martin was busy writing poetry in his room and had no idea that Elias hung out once a week

-Elias has had a crush on Peter since 0.001 seconds after he transferred. He spends entire classes staring at him and has turned in HW w/ Peter doodles on it. All his teachers gossip w/ Jon about it at district meetings. 

-Peter hated Elias initially bc he doesn't like attention and also bc Elias is loud and prickly. Then some prep school brat bullies another one of the scholarship students and Elias (partially out of pragmatism, he would've been next) like... destroys him. So Peter starts paying attention. Tbh he only develops a proper crush once Martin is tutoring him and asking him about school and what he enjoys and Peter realizes Elias comes to mind. It is a long summer. Peter spends a lot of it awkwardly wondering how to be a person while they skip rocks on the lake and explode stuff out in the deep woods. yes u read that right. they get a lot of fireworks and they Do Not tell Martin

-when they start dating they spend a surprising amount of time navigating how to handle Peter's introversion vs Elias' desire to glue their frickin hands together bc he continues to find his bf fascinating. the first time Peter erupts and goes into a vent session about school where he rants for 20 minutes, Elias holds his hand very tight and has to remind himself that Peter is pissed and it is not time to smile bc he likes to listen to his bf talk. they text a lot. Peter hates phone calls

-these last points have made the crushing sound one-sided, but trust me when I say Peter likes Elias. Peter does what Peter wants, and if he wanted Elias gone, he'd make it so. sometimes when he needs to be alone he does make it so. Elias spends a lot of time pretending to be someone he's not to be accepted, so he values that kind of honesty. The concept of someone enjoying Peter’s personality actually makes him v uncomfortable and kinda confuses him (Martin skates by under the guise of ‘he is just my tutor who I pay and not the only adult I respect & trust’). after their 6-month anniversary he sort of flips out and ghosts Elias for a week bc he did not expect this to work & he’s scared. Jon and Martin get involved when Elias spends that week mercilessly torturing Jon, showing up unannounced. when they reunite they somehow like each other more. but Elias pettily spends a week w/ extra staring which Peter grudgingly allows

-Peter's family thinks their new maid has a son who now basically lives at their house. Spoiler: Elias just visits a lot and Peter tells them zero personal info

-The difference in social class & money is awkward for Elias, who is hyperaware and insecure and won’t let Peter come over to his house until they’ve been dating for like two years. At that point Jurgen has saved up a lifetime’s worth of embarrassing things to reveal to his grandson’s bf. there is definitely some pining where Elias is convinced Peter’s going to dump him to get with some other hot rich kid at their school. Peter? Oblivious to this fear entirely. Peter had the luxury of growing up filthy rich, and is also the type of person who doesn’t care at all if your clothes are from Goodwill or your dates can’t cost more than a few bucks. This actually leads into the next point

-Peter is super outdoorsy and once his foot heals Elias takes him hiking /canoeing/camping every other weekend when it’s warm. Elias gets into landscape drawings. Peter hates TV but will eat popcorn & snuggle Elias on the couch while he watches his favorite shows on the Lukas’ expensive flatscreen. Elias continues to sketch Peter a lot and Peter does not find out about this for like a year. they continue to explode fireworks and homemade stuff in the woods bc they are teenage boys.

-they’re both Lil Bastards and like to annoy each other but if you ever mess with one the other pops up out of nowhere to threaten you in a cheerful, low drawl (Peter) or descend upon u vengefully w/ embarrassing secrets being yelled out in public (Elias). They hold hands the whole time. it is terrifying. neither of them have ever been the popular kid but nobody will so much as look at them funny

-they make bets about literally everything. My fave is the bet about who's going to be taller, which drags on for yeeeeears and no one will ever concede defeat. “you’re not taller, I could still grow” (Elias) “we are adults and puberty is over” (Peter) meanwhile they are both taller than Jon, who still tries to like. pat Elias atop the head. 

-When Jon and Martin get married u know who walks each of them down the aisle to give them away!! THE BOYS. they both hate the formalwear and look ready to shank someone the entire time

[swordarkeereon]

Tech Review for Writers: reMarkable2

I got myself a piece of interesting tech this year in hopes it would get me from out in front of a computer screen more often. Meet the reMarkable2, a distraction free (i.e. it’s not connected to the entirety of the internet) e-ink tablet workhorse that’s easy on the eyes.

The reMarkable2 Tablet

First things first. The reMarkable2 tablet is not for everyone and your average person probably won’t find it the least bit useful. So let’s talk about why you don’t want this tablet first.

reMarkable 2 is not for you if: 

– You want an eReader.  eReaders have a VERY DIFFERENT function than the reMarkable2. Yes, you can read PDFs on a reMarkable, but it’s more for *marking up* a PDF and commenting in the margins of a PDF. Not just reading. eReaders like Kindles and Nooks often have built in dictionaries, ways to bookmark pages or passages of text, etc…  that the reMarkable2 doesn’t have. You can search your documents for specific phrases and words and also highlight things in a light gray, but if you’re just looking for an eReader, I suggest a Kindle.

– You want a full functioning tablet that you can put apps on and surf the web with- If you’re looking for a full functioning tablet, you’ve missed the whole point of the reMarkable2. The main point behind reMarkable2 is so you can go to your creative place (wherever that may be) and brainstorm, free from ALL distractions. You can’t stop to surf FB or your Twitter feed on a reMarkable2, thus making it more likely you’ll stay on task and get more done.

– You want something with color so you can highlight because what you really want is a fully functioning ebook reader or tablet. This tablet is really more of a no frills brainstorming and note-taking tool for entrepreneurs, professionals, academics, and creatives (including engineers, writers, musicians, possibly artists if they like to sketch in black and white) who use a lot of black pens and plain paper.

I bought the tablet for the following reasons (which I wrote down BEFORE I received the device):

– I wanted an electronic notebook (not a tablet). I’m one of those people who goes through 3 packs of sticky notes every month, and countless notebooks every year. I am constantly jotting stuff down to keep myself focused and on track while running my own business and helping out at the family business.  My notes can be anything from putting together presentations, classes, and meetings, to extensive to-do lists for the day. Sometimes it’s just me keeping track of sales figures. As a result, my desk is always filled with papers and notebooks and I’m constantly searching for shit. The electronic notebook cleans up all this clutter and helps me organize my brain. (Have you seen my brain!? It’s a mess in there.)

– I  like to write freehand, especially when I’m plotting the next book or writing a blurb, or even writing a chapter – and it must be distraction free. This is something only fellow authors will understand. The fact that the reMarkable2 can convert handwritten notes to text sent via email has me excited because, if I’m lucky and it works, I won’t have to go through and transcribe all my handwritten notes. It basically saves me time by eliminating a step. I can copy/paste the note from my email into the appropriate file on my laptop. This will also save me the clutter and weight of carrying countless notebooks.

– I am involved with projects that require me to sketch out ideas for marketing and/or artwork. I do have tablets that can do this, but nothing that does it *well*. The closest is my Surface tablet, which can do a lot of things, but it still doesn’t feel like paper or allow me the fine detail paper allows. I’m hoping this tablet is a bit more responsive in this area. – I am forever printing out rough drafts of manuscripts for markup – wasting a ton of paper and toner in the process. All because I can’t edit on a backlit screen. My eyes get tired and I miss too many errors. If I can transfer my PDF drafts to the reMarkable and mark them up there with minimal errors left over, I could save some $$. I am actually estimating that I could easily save the cost of the reMarkable2 in 6 months to 1 year’s time by not having to purchase the paper, pens, and toner I usually go through in that time frame.  Plus, these marked up manuscripts often end up in a stack on my office floor for 6 months to a year after publication. 

– I am forever having to read PDFs of laws and regulations for the family business, and while I usually use them on the computer, I sit in front of a computer 8-13 hours a day. I need a non-backlit screen for reading in the evenings just to give my eyes a break.  Yes, I imagine I could do the same with a Kindle paperwhite, but I may just want to jot some notes in the same way I’d mark up a paper copy. I’m still a pen and paper girl. I’m really hoping the reMarkable is my replacement for that (most of the time anyway).

reMarkable2 test to sample the pen styles.

Some considerations I took into account before purchasing:

A lot of customers complained that it took too long to receive the reMarkable or to get support. From all of the research I did, and in reading their website, it’s clear to me that this company caters to academia and businesses. I ordered my reMarkable2 on January 16, 2021, and had it in my hands by January 25, 2021. 9 days. I also ordered it and paid for it through my business. I don’t know if that’s actually why I got mine so fast, but I wouldn’t be surprised. That said, I do think the company should work a little harder to increase their customer service efficiency. 

With regard to customer support – the website clearly states it can take up to 10 business days for support to get back to you. And a lot of the things people seem to be complaining about have troubleshooting instructions on the website. Clearly people weren’t going to the website to try to look up their issue through the support FAQs, which likely would have helped them out sooner.  They were just contacting support immediately, and angry when they weren’t getting a response after 3 days, when it’s clearly stated on the website that it can take up to 10 days due to the fact that reMarkable is a small company. But like I said earlier – they would be smart to increase their customer service team.

reMarkable’s folios are a custom fit and really pretty, but a bit pricey. I made the tablet more affordable by skipping the upgrade on the pen, because a friend of mine got the eraser feature and she wasn’t digging it initially (she loves it now), and I purchased a relatively nice folio from Amazon for under $30 (with no magnets – research told me magnets can cause dead spots in the screen of the reMarkable2). You can also just buy a 10″-11″ tablet sleeve and it would work much the same. There are also universal tablet folios that will fit 10″-11″ tablets that are free of magnets and will likely work just fine. All for under $20 bucks — even a few in faux leather. Remember that a case should protect your investment, not just make it *look* sharp. 

Right out of the Box.

Right out of the box I set the reMarkable up and started using it for brainstorming. Here were my first impressions:

1. It really is pretty damn close to writing on paper.

2. You can rest your damn hand on the screen and it won’t fuck things up or make it wobble as with traditional tablets.

3. My handwriting actually looks like my handwriting and you have almost the same control with this as you would with real pen and paper.

4. The interface is simple and intuitive and anyone who uses computers and tablets day and in day out will have no issues figuring this out.

Now some thoughts on the features:

Handwriting to Text: As an author who likes to occasionally spend time writing the old fashioned way, one of the things that attracted me to this tablet was its ability to translate handwriting to text. No writer wants to have to transcribe their written notes and waste all of that time. So of course I tested it with my horrific handwriting, vs purposefully trying to be neat, and the reMarkable2 was able to convert my chicken scratch into actual text that I could read. I was able to turn the handwritten notes into a PDF, but I was also able to send the handwriting converted to typed text as the body of an email, where I was able to cut and paste it into any program I wanted. I took it further and wrote 1000 words (about 8.2 pages) longhand. It converted all the pages to text in one swoop and I was able to copy/paste it into my manuscript. While there was a little formatting and editing involved — it was a lot faster than retyping handwritten notes. WIN! 

Handwriting for conversion test.

Conversion successful

PDF Transfer, Markup, and Signature: Transferring PDFs to the reMarkable is easy. You simply download the app on your phone and your desktop, and you can take any pdf from either device and import it onto your reMarkable, which you can then markup. I sent myself a slew of PDFs that I had to read and markup. It’s amazing how much more focused I am on a screen like this. I really got the same experience with editing on a digital PDF as I did with editing on a paper copy. My only caveat is that I don’t have more space to make notes since the margins are a bit small on the screen and there’s no “back of the page” to carry notes over to. I can likely manage. Despite that – what a great experience. Goodbye manuscripts all over my office floor!  Hello being able to drag editing work with me wherever I go!    

You can also transfer your PDFs that don’t have an electronic signature option to the device, sign them, and send them back. Talk about HANDY since I do that a few times a month by default. This just eliminates the print/sign/scan. Now I just have to transfer it to the device, sign the document, and email it straight back to whoever sent it. 

Digital Planners may be something I look into for 2022 because reMarkable actually makes them feasible. I tried a tester digital planner, courtesy a friend, on my reMarkable and I have to say – it offers just as much satisfaction as a paper planner. Plus, you can SEARCH large pdfs. It won’t find search terms in your handwriting, but it will find it in your PDF. That’s definitely a handy feature when you’re working with 500 page PDFs. That said, the tablet saves your place (last page you visited) as you’re navigating a PDF, so no need to search for the place you left off. However, there is no way to bookmark multiple pages.

ePub Reading: suppose I could sideload books as ePubs, but I really have no use for this feature. If I want to read ebooks, I use my kindle or the Kindle App on my tablet or phone. Unless I start doing editing of ePubs or want to check out an ePub format for something?  I didn’t buy this as an eReader, and it is terribly lacking as an eReader. Where the reMarkable excels is as a tool for marking up documents. So my guess is it would be great for that if you have a lot of files in ePub format that you have to go over. You also can’t change font sizes for easier reading. You can zoom in and zoom back out to regular size. That’s it. (And this is another reason this is not an eReader.)

Storage: Storage is a little over 6GB (you do not pay for the reMarkable website cloud-sync). But even with about 15 PDFs (some of them really long) on my reMarkable at any given time, I was only at .38 GB. 

reMarkable2 Storage

File System: Like I said earlier – the system is highly intuitive and easy to use. I made folders for my most common notebook uses, then I moved the appropriate PDFs to those folders, and created any notebooks I needed for those folders.

Exporting: You can export as .PNG, .SVG, and PDF.  Handwriting to text can only be sent as text via the body of an email. This is actually great for writing because then you just have to copy/paste from your email into your Word Doc, Google Doc, or Scrivener.

Importing: Imports PDFs and ePubs.

Templates: The templates are great. I generally only use graph paper, plain, and lined paper myself. But I could see how a lot of these would be useful to people. The to-do list is a crappy template just because it requires you to hide your menu to use it (you can’t tick the the checkboxes until you do this). To hide the menu tap the circle in the upper left top of the menu bar. So if you want a partial page to-do list, you can easily make your own checkbox lists using the graph paper option. There are also dot pages for the folks into bullet journaling.

A small sampling of reMarkable2 Templates

Search Feature: You can search within a PDF, but not through your own handwritten text. You must be in the PDF to search it, otherwise you can only search for file names. You can not search across documents for a phrase or word. So if you’re looking for something with the same search capabilities as a laptop or possibly a tablet, you won’t find it here.

Zooming: You can zoom in on PDF documents and write on them while zoomed. However, you cannot change font sizes to make reading easier.

Battery Life:  On days where I used it heavily (about 4-5 hours), I was using around 15% power in a day because I didn’t put it in airplane mode. Three days of 4-5 hours a day use drained my battery to 50%. So me, as a heavy user, not in airplane mode, will likely get 6-7 days out of a single charge. Possibly more since clearly not every day will be a heavy use day. The device does go to sleep after 10 minutes of inactivity.

Pen:The pens are a bit pricey. I did not buy the expensive pen with the eraser and I’m okay with that. But $60 for a pen is still a bit — ouch. 

Pen Nib: I am expecting I will be one of those poor unfortunate souls who will be replacing pen tips every 3-4 weeks during heavy use. Luckily the pen itself doesn’t use batteries. The pen nibs seem reasonable in price, just be sure to order a new pack with your device and when you start that pack, order another as shipping times on those can take a week or two depending where you are and how efficient your mail service is. You don’t want to accidently run out and find yourself without a pen. Yikes.

Security: You can add a password to your reMarkable to keep prying eyes out. But if you’re like me and self-employed, that’s not really an issue. Your remarkable has Wi-Fi, yes, but you can put it in airplane mode to cut the connection. Plus, it only syncs to your cloud storage. There really aren’t any entry points for viruses or people hacking into your device. But then I’m also not a tech person. Let’s just say I highly doubt security will be a huge issue on this thing. Besides, anyone who wants to take a peek at my tablet would likely find themselves bored stiff, unless they like reading really rough first drafts of speculative fiction.  LOL

Backup/Download: You can easily transfer your files back to your computer by opening the app and simply exporting your finished documents, etc… to your computer, backup drive or cloud drive. You can also just email yourself a copy to make it super easy.

My Wishlist:

1. I wish I could add or append new, handwritten pages to an existing PDF. That would definitely solve the space issue. Now, I just make notes in a different file and jog back and forth between the PDF and the notes, which is a little annoying, but doable. One way to solve this issue would be to save all your PDFs to double spaced. It might make markup a little easier. I’ll try that with the next books to go under the editorial knife.

2. I wish there were cheaper alternative covers. My $17 cover looks great and protects my tablet. reMarkable could easily come up with a few additional low-cost choices here. The ultra professionals are still going to buy nice leather folios. 

(I may add to this list in the coming weeks, but right now these are the two main things jumping out at me.)

Overall Review Summary

For writers, reMarkable2 truly is a remarkable distraction free device that can help improve your concentration and organization, give you the freedom to write out longhand and convert it to text without the tedious re-typing, and help you mark up drafts with ease. This would probably serve prolific and professional writers more liberally than the writer who takes a few years to pen a book. Plus, it will probably save you a lot of printer paper, toner, pens and notebooks. For business owners/users – reMarkable will likely save you pounds of sticky notes and legal pads, and hours of time transcribing your notes. Plus, it’s a great on-the-go working tool for content creators and people who review a lot of PDFs. 

Have some thoughts on the reMarkable2? Feel free to leave a comment below!

[firstdegreefangirl]

Eddie Week Day Six: We Are Family

Word Count: 1241

Original Pub Date: 20 June 2020

Relationships: Firefam. It’s just the firefam. Hints of Buddie, but you gotta squint REAL HARD.

Read on ao3 here

I’ll stop tagging when my friends stop being amazing: @eddiediazweek, @hearteyesforbuck, @rebeccaofsbfarm, @thisissirius, @hearteyesforbuck, @dramamineontopofme, @twinien, @meloingly, @myemergence

“OK, is everybody here?” Bobby rolls up onto his toes and wiggles his pointer finger as he counts to himself, moving his lips as he looks around the group of firefighters milling around outside the station.

Not that he really needs to count, Eddie thinks. There’s only eight people on the crew, counting the alternates who rotate in and out so everyone can have days off.  

“Everybody’s here, Bobby.” Athena sighs from her position behind the camera. “Just like they were last time you checked. Now can you all just line up in front of the trucks and take the damn picture?”  

Eddie stifles a laugh at the way Athena rolls her eyes when Bobby tries to argue with her, and follows everyone else into a single-file line. They’re far enough down the driveway for the firetruck and ambulance to show in the background, just the way Bobby had sketched out – yes, on a whiteboard and everything – when he’d pitched the idea to the team.

A team picture, he’d explained, would increase morale around the station, serve as a visual reminder that they’re all working together toward the same goal. And if they put it on display, then anyone who stops by the station will know the people who are protecting them when things go wrong.  

It had taken a decent amount of cajoling (and the promise of his famous pecan bars), but he’d finally convinced everyone to put on their dress uniforms and let the LA sun beat down on them for a photo. Athena and May are behind the camera, in charge of making sure that everyone looks their best. Bobby’s already told everyone how to line up – shortest on one end, tallest on the other – and they’d taken two hours to wash the trucks this morning, making sure everything is sparkling clean.

(Chimney had almost gotten himself saddled with a month of bathroom duty when he pointed out that the back of the truck isn’t even going to be in the picture, so there really wasn’t any reason to re-wax all the chrome parts until they reflected the sun.)

They line up, the shutter clicks twice, and when Athena steps back from the viewfinder, everyone relaxes.  

They’re done, the picture is taken. Not completely painless, but easy enough.  

Until May looks up, sets her coffee down and slides her sunglasses up to the top of her head.

“Really? That’s it? You’re only taking one photo? Bobby, you’re sure you don’t want something more creative?”

“Well …” Everyone freezes, the last flicker of hope that they might be able to go change back out of their dress uniforms fading right before their eyes. “I suppose it might be a good idea to have a few options.”  

That’s all the permission May needs to step forward and start arranging people. Eddie would be willing to put money down that she’s the one organizing her friends for pictures when they hang out, as easily as she seems to picture who would look best where.  

When she’s finished, nudging Athena out of the way so she can check her work through the camera’s lens, Bobby is standing between him and Buck, with an alternate on either side of them. Hen, Chimney and Tommy make up the front row, kneeling with their hands folded on their thighs.

May presses the shutter button, but looks up.

“Don’t get up. Chim, turn a little bit more toward Tommy. Bobby, relax. Shoulders don’t belong in your ears. Eddie … stop doing that thing with your face.”

“What?” He doesn’t think he’s doing a thing with his face. “I’m not doing a thing with my face.”  

“Yes, you are.” Chimney doesn’t even look up as he’s shuffling closer to Tommy.

“You’re not even looking!”

“I trust May.”

“Good,” she smirks at Chimney. “Now turn back out a smidge. You went too far.”

“Chimney Han, don’t you roll your eyes at my daughter.” Athena glares at him and Hen starts laughing. “Henrietta, you’re next. You think I forgot what you said after that merlot the other night?”  

Hen stops laughing, and Eddie tries to figure out what to do about his face while May leans back down to the viewfinder.

“Hang on, it’s all wrong.” She stands back up. “I can’t see the top of the truck.”  

Everyone groans when she picks the tripod up and starts walking backward. After a few feet, she sets it down, checks the angle again and repeats the process until she’s satisfied with the camera placement.  

“Better?” Bobby leans forward, like he’s trying to see the reflection in the glass of the lens.

“Better,” May confirms. “But you’re all too far away now. Stay just like you are, but forward a few feet.”  

Everyone shuffles forward, and Hen reaches around to swat Chimney on the back of the head when he starts whining about a piece of gravel digging into his knee.

“Hush, we don’t need any reasons to stay down here longer!”

Eddie feels time slow down as May leans forward over the camera and positions her finger on the shutter button. All at once, four things happen.  

Bobby rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to tell Hen and Chim to cut it out so May can take the picture. Buck rears back, sucks in two short breaths and sneezes so hard that Eddie’s first instinct is to fear for his health.

Tommy's first instinct, on the other hand, is to reach back and make sure that nothing from Buck’s sneeze landed on his head, while he turns around to glare. Chimney starts laughing, and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s doing whatever face-thing May had told him to change.

Then the shutter clicks and May recoils to stare at the group in horror. She presses a couple of buttons, then waves Athena over to peer at the tiny screen with her. They’ve hardly looked at the image when Athena steps back and doubles over, laughing so hard that there are tears running down her face and she’s gasping for breath.  

She finally stands up, but her shoulders are still heaving when she wheezes out a reaction.

“Well, anyone who sees this picture is going to know exactly what kind of firefighters they’re getting when they call the 118: damned fools.”

Eddie is so taken aback by her response that he starts laughing too, and the whole moment seems to be infectious enough that everyone joins in. Before long, they’re all howling, leaning on each other and wiping their cheeks.  

None of them are paying attention, so nobody sees May lean into the camera again, nobody hears the shutter click.

But a few weeks later, when Bobby gets the frame hung up on the wall in the garage?

It’s a perfect representation of their team, exactly how they act when the camera isn’t turned on them. When Bobby hands 4x6 copies around to everyone (plus prints of the picture right before it, which Eddie honestly likes even more), Eddie mentally starts clearing room for it on the shelf in his living room, right next to Christopher’s latest school picture and a snapshot of the two of them with Buck at the arcade.

When he gets home that night and fishes a frame out of the hall closet, the picture fits in perfectly with the others: a tiny tribute to the most important people in his life: his son, his Buck and his team.

[clintbartonswife]

Forever

@witch-of-letters  thanks for requesting this! I diverted from it slightly but I hope you still like it

Pairings: Steve x Reader, brother!bucky Warning: swearing, mentions of abuse masterlist

For as long as you can remember, it had been the three of you against the world.

When you and Bucky were 6, you had gone to the park to play when you saw a scrawny blond getting the ever-loving shit kicked out of him in an alley way by a guy who was easily a good few inches taller than him.

“Hey!” Bucky had shouted, rushing over to help, “Leave him alone”

You had followed your twin, and without much of a struggle had sent the boy on his way.

“I had him on the ropes”

You had offered a hand to help him up, offering him a soft smile.

“Sure you did punk” Bucky said, matching your smile as he rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder

“Jerk”

When you were 8, you learned the reason why Steve never backed down from a fight.

Bucky and you had snuck over to Steve’s apartment after dinner one night, climbing the fire escape into his room, only to be met with the sound of muffled sobs.

“Oh my god Steve are you okay?”

You rushed into his room through the window, Bucky close behind you.

“What – what are you doing here?” he asked, trying to choke down his sobs, “you shouldn’t be here”

“We were gonna ask to see your sketches, punk. What’s happened?”

The two of you fell into silence as a heavy thump was heard through the thin walls of his bedroom walls, followed by Sarah’s heaving sobs. The sound made Steve curl up into a ball again, whimpering at the sound of his mother’s crying.

“She locked me in so I couldn’t help” he sobbed, “he won’t stop hitting her”

You exchanged a look with Bucky, pure shock overtaking you. You had no idea this was going on, but suddenly a lot of Steve’s stubbornness was starting to make sense. Pulling him into a hug, the two cocooned him between you for the rest of the night, holding him as the repetitive thumps echoed through the small flat.

 When you were 15, the love you had for Steve started to blossom into something more.

You were sat next to him, eyes closed as the familiar scratching sound of charcoal on paper filled your ears. Bucky was out on a date with a girl called Belle, leaving you and Steve alone together. For the past few years, due to Bucky’s ‘charming good looks’ as your ma had put it, he had been going out with a lot of women, meaning that you and Steve would often hang out in the afternoons together.

“Are you drawing me Rogers?”

“Wha – no – I thought you were asleep”

You had opened an eye lazily, an easy-going smile on your face.

“And waste time with you? Never. It’s just relaxing to hear you draw”

You noticed that the more time you spent with him, the more nervous you got, and every time he’d call you ‘doll’ you’d get a weird feeling in your stomach. Rebecca had called you out, saying that you were sweet on him one night – something you avidly denied at the time – but the longer it went on, the less you could deny it.

 When you were 17, you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

Men had started taking an interest in you in the past few years, often trying to ask you out on dates around the town. Thankfully Bucky had managed to scare most of them off from the outset with his protective brotherly nature, but unfortunately some were still brave enough to ask.

“Want to go out dancin’ sugar? You look real pretty in that dress”

You had resisted the urge to roll your eyes, sending a silent plea for help to Bucky and Steve before turning back to the man in front of you.

“No thank you, but I’m sure Cindy would be interested, she’s been making eyes at you since you walked in”

Setting his eyes on the blonde at the booth opposite, he gave you a polite nod before making his way over to her.

“Why wont they stop” you groaned, slumping back in your seat unceremoniously, “I’m not interested in them!”

“You haven’t been on a single date Y/N, it’s become a sort of competition in the neighbourhood” Bucky frowned, obviously disapproving of them using you as a bet, “what’s the reason you haven’t gone on one anyway?”

You glanced at Steve quickly, crossing your arms.

“I’m waiting for the right person”

Bucky caught your gaze and his mouth dropped open, slapping Steve’s shoulder rambunctiously.

“Well would ya look at that!”

“Bucky!”

“Are you gonna tell him or am I gonna have to do it for you? Both of you are blind fools I swear”

You blushed, making eye contact with Steve before looking away to the floor, leaving Steve a stammering mess as he figured out what was going on.

“Me?”

“It’s always been you”

 When you were 18, you both said ‘I love you’ for the first time.

You had forgone going to the dance hall with Bucky and his date, opting instead to stay in the boy’s apartment. With the gramophone you had borrowed from Mrs Gillert upstairs, you twirled around the room in Steve’s arms, bare foot and care free.

“I’ll never understand why out of all the boys in Brooklyn you chose me” Steve admitted quietly, “I always dreamed about it, but I never once thought I’d be good enough for you”

“You’re everything to me Stevie”

“I love you, doll”

A blush bloomed on your cheeks, happy tears filling your eyes as you met his lips in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too”

 When you were 20, you saw Steve break for the first time since you were children.

His mother had been ill ever since his father’s death a few years prior, Bucky picking up an extra job just to help him pay for her medicines, but she was just getting worse. A few hours before she went, Sarah had grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and placing them over her heart.

“You’re good for him” she said, voice shaky and weak, “Promise me you’ll look after him”

“I always will – Buck and I have his back Sarah, you know that”

You held him that night as he sobbed, the last of his family dead and gone, only passing him over to Bucky to make some dinner (which you forced him to eat). The situation felt very reminiscent of that night years ago, the three of you knowing that in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for the other.

 When you were 24, your life started to crumble around you.

After the announcement that the USA was joining WW2, Bucky and Steve started training in Goldie’s gym every day for 3 hours, eager to join the fight.

They ignored your protests, Bucky insisting that it was the right thing to do.

He was approved, Sargent Barnes of the 107th, ready for deployment in a few weeks. Steve, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Though it was horrible to say, you had never been so glad for his illnesses as that day.

He wouldn’t stop though, and on Bucky’s last night he ran off to the sign-up tent again. As always, the two of you followed him, ready to stop his mess, only for Bucky to cave in and let him try.

“You stay with him, okay? I’ll see you back at the house”

You just nodded, giving your brother a hug before following Steve again, holding his hand in yours.

“Steve please, you’ve tried enough. I can’t – I can’t lose both of you”

“I have to try, don’t you see? If I had stood up to my dad then maybe – maybe ma wouldn’t have gotten so sick and-“

“No. Steven Grant Rogers don’t you dare think like that. That was out of your control-“

“But I can help here. Please, just let me try. One last time, doll, I promise”

You sighed, ducking your head to hide the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, nodding dejectedly. Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand slipping out of yours as he began to walk away.

“I’ll be back”

Not a minute later, you were approached by a middle-age German man, and the rest was history.

 When you were 25, you rescued your brother from HYDRA’s clutches.

After deciding that, fuck it, you’d follow Steve to the ends of the earth, you had accepted Dr Erskine’s offer and became the first female candidate for the super soldier serum. The following madness that ensued left you, now dubbed Liberty Prime, and Steve, Captain America, new dancing puppets for the government. That is, of course, until you heard of the 107th’s fate.

Taking the jet offered by Howard Stark, you and Steve had ignored your orders and broken out all the POWs that had been taken, eventually finding Bucky in a small lab, strapped down onto the table. After a very quick argument (“What the hell have you done?”, “joined the army”) and a dramatic fight with a dude with a red face, you were on the way back to base camp, holding hands with your two favourite boys.

Once Bucky was out of the med tent, the three of you went back to your bunk, huddling together like you did when you were kids the silent promise of forever suspended in the air.

 When you were 27, the realities of war caught up to you.

Being a member of the Howling Commandos, you had seen a fair amount of horrifying stuff, but nothing could prepare you to see your twin falling from the train, mere centimetres from Steve’s hand.

The two of you were inconsolable, only talking to each other because you were the only ones that understood. Nothing would ever be the same.

So when it came to making the call to put the plane in the ocean, you both decided stupidly fast.

“I love you, doll” “I love you Stevie”

You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, fully submerged in his embrace as the jet went down.

“’Til the end of the line”

 But now, as you woke up in the sterile hospital room, you were alone.

No Steve, no Bucky. Alone.

“What the hell?”

Your last memories of the ship crashing into the cold sea made no sense as you stared at the blank white walls around you, eyes blowing wide in panic. Your fighting instincts instantly kicked in, pushing yourself off of the bed and into a defensive position.

A crackly tune filtered out of the radio, the weird calmness of the room making you uneasy.

“Miss Barnes, it’s good to see that you’re awake”

You spun around to stare at the newcomer, the woman looking an awful lot like Peggy.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in a –“

She was cut off by a large man pushing her out of the way, his eyes wild and searching.

“Y/N?”

“Steve?”

“Don’t listen to them – somethings sketchy – the walls aren’t real” he urged, grabbing my hand and punching his way through the set’s walls, “We need to get out of here”

“How are we alive?” I asked frantically, keeping up to speed with him as an alarm started to blare through the building.

“I don’t know”

As you burst out of the building and onto the streets, you could immediately tell something was wrong. Your hand immediately flew to his arm, clutching his bicep as you were forced to a halt by black cars surrounding you. He pushed you behind him slightly, taking a protective stance in front of you as you searched the area for a way out.

“At ease, soldiers! Look, I’m sorry about that little show back there, but… we thought it best to break it to you slowly”

You moved to the side slightly, coming out from behind Steve, despite his quiet protest.

“Break what?”

“You’ve both been asleep. For 70 years”

 Ever since Fury had broken the news you refused to be separated from Steve. They seemed to have expected that though, as the housing they provided was set up for two people.

“We’ll leave you alone for the rest of today for all of this to sink in” an agent explained, “If you have any questions just press this button and someone will come running”

You nodded politely as she left, still in a slight daze as you stared at the luxurious apartment.

“They’re going to want us to fight”

“I know”

“Will you?”

“Im with you Steve. I’ll follow you til the end of the line”

He took your hands in his, pressing light kisses to each knuckle.

“For Bucky” he said, voice cracking slightly.

“For Bucky”

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Steve Taglist: @patzammit​