#i’m thinking maybe if i book online i can find a place that lets me leave notes or at least has an email i can send a warning to

[thnksfrthmmrs]

trying to figure out how i can get a haircut without getting an hour long lecture from a stylist telling me i need to stop coloring my hair because i DO plan on giving my hair a long much needed break from color but hearing it makes me feel really anxious and guilty

[cumikering]

Toxic Phillip Graves x reader

3.4k | angst, suggestive The commander with plenty of years ahead of you never saw you like you saw him, not even close

Next to the large window of the coffee shop, you sat with your book. You sipped your latte – the latte your cousin raved about endlessly the past month that tasted closer to milk. She wasn’t a coffee drinker evidently.

“’Scuse me, miss. Would you mind if I sit here?”

You looked up at the owner of the smooth, southern voice. The man wore an easy smile – too easy, like he knew he looked good. Your eyes wandered past him, to the many empty tables before meeting his blue ones again.

“Sorry, I’m Phillip. I couldn’t help noticing your read.” He held out his copy of the exact same book. This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper.

You gave him a polite smile. “Go ahead.”

“Not my usual read, but it resonates with me.” He sat and placed his cup of tea on the table before cracking his book open where his steel bookmark lay. “He shouldn’t have led her on,” he commented.

“But her story wouldn’t have started otherwise.”

He smiled. “That’s true.”

Phillip ordered you another drink as you discussed your common interest in literature. Before you could finish the tea, the alarm on his phone went off.

“It was such a pleasure meeting you, miss, but I’ve got a plane to catch.” He placed his bookmark back in his copy.

It was then that you noticed the scar across his right cheek. As if the cause had the full intention of ripping him off the Earth – like a personal vendetta, but divine intervention let it bolt past, catching the cuff of his ear instead.

“Would it be alright to call you sometime? Maybe we can meet again when I find myself in town.”

You put your number in his phone, not expecting anything to come out of it. Not from a chance meeting with a charming man more than a few years older than you.

But days later, Phillip asked if you’d finished the book. You spoke on the phone for half an hour, listening to his analysis of the characters. He was sharp, brilliant, eloquent. It showed that he was well-read and took pride in it.

He was initially vague about his job, saying he travelled a lot. You didn’t think it mattered at all what he did. He was an online friend who was into the same things as you were. A month later when he told you he was the CEO of a private military company, you weren’t surprised at all. It was plain in the way he carried himself, his poise and decisiveness. The way he filled a room to the brim even when he didn’t try to.

Over the months, he mailed you books to read and discuss once a week. Then twice, and thrice and the calls grew more frequent, longer, later. Quieter, deeper.

He became more than a name on your screen, more than a voice at the other end of the line at nightfall. Your conversations bled into the daylight. You felt less like a secret, more like a part of his life. Like an affirmation that, maybe, you were not the only one in the liminal space.

Thinking of you, sweetheart.

Always love hearing from my woman during the day.

Your man is having some good lunch. Wish you were here to share it with.

You make me feel like I may be close to some, but never close enough.

I’ll show you how much you mean to me when we meet again.

“You promise?” you asked one day.

“I make guarantees,” he affirmed without missing a beat. “I’ll have the last week of this month off.  Why don’t you fly here? I’ll take care of your flights and hotel.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve never done this before… Flown to meet anyone.”

“No pressure, darlin’. You mean a lot to me, you know that? Don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to.”

You booked your flights and hotel. You weren’t going to be a freeloader even that you knew it would have meant nothing to him judging by the suit he showed up at the airport in. You wanted to cry when you saw him and his boyish smile, carrying a large bouquet of roses and a sign of your name. You ran into his open arms.

“What are you doing dressed up like that?” you asked with a chuckle when you pulled away.

He kissed the top of your head. “Taking my darlin’ out on a dinner date.”

He helped with your suitcase to his grey SUV and waited for you to get ready in your room before taking you to a skyscraping French restaurant. Sat next to the floor-to-ceiling window, you couldn’t take your eyes off the view, the shadows of the city dainty against the gold seeping into deep purple.

“Gorgeous, huh?” He placed his hand on yours, making your turn to him. “I knew you’d like it. We can come back whenever you want.”

“I love it, Phil.” You beamed. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for my darlin’.” He took your hand to his lips before raising his champagne flute. “To us.”

You clinked yours against his.

At your door, he asked if he could kiss you. You nodded, not meeting his blue eyes as you bit down a smile. He called you when he was in bed, and when you both refused to hang up, you wondered what kept you from staying at his instead.

Phillip spent the next two days taking you around the city and walking you to your room at the end of the night with a kiss, which lasted longer each time.

Darling, I need to take care of something on base. Would it be fine if you’re on your own for the day? His text read the next morning.

Instead of brunch with him, you wondered around the city on your own, reveling in the tall buildings and how friendly the people were. With a sweet Southern drawl, the older women called you honey, darling and everything else Phillip had called you. It made you miss him more.

As you enjoyed your dinner, your phone buzzed with his call. It didn’t take him long to pull up at the restaurant and give you a peck in front of his SUV. You’d seen photos of him in his full gear, but seeing him in his combat uniform in real life made your cheeks heat up as you held onto his biceps. With vivid eyes and a smirk like that, he was dangerously handsome.

His touch seared when he pushed you against the wall of his entryway, fingers grasping your jaw, as he licked and nipped.

“You kiss better than last night,” he mumbled against you.

You paused at the comment, but he didn’t relent. He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands roamed. He carried you to his kitchen, setting you on the counter, icy against the backs of your thighs.

His mouth trailed down the side of your neck, sucking harder at the base than you’re used to, but it hurt so good. You shuddered as a small gasp escaped you. He pulled away with a satisfied smile before setting you down on your feet, turning to open his French door fridge.

You took in his kitchen, All-black, with spotless marble countertops and seamless cabinets.

“What would you like, darlin’?”

“J- Just water, please.”

You were breathless with your cheeks warm when he led you to his living room which looked equally as lavish with the large TV in front of his plush leather couch. When he pulled you onto his lap, you let out a small squeak, making him chuckle.

“You’re always so adorable.” He kissed your cheek.

He put on some football on as he held you close, his hot, wide palm on your mid-thigh, exposed from him pushing your dress up. Every so often, he’d give it a squeeze as he sipped his beer, making your breath hitch.

“Darlin’, it’s getting late. Let’s get you back.” He patted your thigh. “Unless you want to stay? You can pick any room you want.”

He gave you a quick tour of his place, and you picked the room next to his. He gave you toiletries and his clothes for the night, and told you to come to his room when you were ready for bed. You opened his door to him on his bed in sweats, a book on his lap. He motioned for you to sit next to him, and you did, leaning onto his bare chest. You read with him, his arm around you, thumb rubbing your arm occasionally.

“Phil?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I just- Well-“ Confidence eluded you as fast as it graced and your heart raced. “Nevermind.”

He laid his book down and turned towards you. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

You felt small having to ask, embarrassed that it was even something that bothered you. But when you looked into his eyes, welcoming with that warm smile, you thought maybe it was alright. It was Phillip after all.

“I wanted to know… What are we?”

He kissed your forehead. “Whatever you want us to be. I’d love to be your man if you let me.”

You smiled, relieved as you nodded.

“Anything for my woman.”

Phillip wasn’t in his room when you woke in his bed the following morning. You figured he was in his office, and he was, with the door open.

He looked up from his computer with a smile. He’d put a t-shirt on, his light brown hair tousled now. You noted he didn’t have his usual cup of coffee with him.

“Good morning, darlin’. Sorry I didn’t mean to leave the bed so early, but I’ve got reports to send.”

“That’s okay.”

“I hope you slept well. Feel free to use the kitchen. I’ll join you when I’m done in a bit.”

You went to his kitchen, the counters lustrous in the morning light. Next to the fridge, something glinted. It was a bottle cap of his favourite beer from the night before, a foreign brand you’d never seen. You put the cap into your sweats pocket - a keepsake of your first visit to his. You made coffee for the both of you, and when you were scouring the cabinets for some sugar-

“Sorry, sweetheart, who are you?”

You gasped, turning to the kitchen entrance where the voice came from. It was a middle-aged woman, carrying grocery bags. She blinked, her smile polite but confused.

“Uhh, Phil?” You looked straight at her with wide eyes, at a loss for words.

“What is it, darlin’?” he replied from a distance.

“Phillip Graves?” the woman called out, voice thundering.

In a second, he rounded the corner.

“Mum. Hey, I wasn’t expecting you.” He took the bags from her hands, placing them on the counter before giving her a hug. “This, uh- this is a friend.” He gestured to you.

“Hi, Mrs. Graves.”

“Good morning, sugar.” She nodded at you, her eyes warmer as she unpacked the bags. “I stopped by to drop off some fruits. I was at the farmer’s market.” Her eyes flicked to you, a playful smile on her lips. “He never has anything in his house other than beer, does he?”

You let out a small laugh, and he had an amused smile as he shook his head.

“I’m still in the middle of something. I’ll finish up real quick.” He left again.

“He’s married to his job,” she commented as she opened the fridge, stocking it with the colourful produce she brought.

“Um, do you know where the sugar is by any chance?”

She turned to you and glanced at the two mugs on the counter. “If he hasn’t had his coffee yet by now, that’s probably because he’s out of sugar.” She smiled. “And you know how much of a sweet-tooth he is.”

You did.

She continued lining the fridge with apples. “He really does run on coffee. He never learnt to cook, that boy. Lucky he’s got you taking care of him.”

Your heart swelled. Did he tell her about you already?

“All done now,” she said, closing the fridge. “Tell him I say bye, will you?”

“Okay.”

She gave you a squeeze and pinched your cheek. “I’ll see you again soon, sugar.”

You beamed as you walked her to the door. She didn’t hate you, and it made you irrationally happy.

“Phil?” You stood at the door to his office. “Your mom just left, told me to tell you bye.”

He beckoned you to come in, and he pulled you to sit on his lap, his hand squeezing your thigh.

“You know why I said you’re a friend, don’t you? I promise I’ll tell her soon.” He gave you an easy smile. “It’s like introducing vegetables to a kid. You gotta do it in small doses.”

“That’s okay, I understand.“ It didn’t bother you seeing how warm she was towards you. Still, you held on to his words.

“Okay, I’m almost done now. I’ll drive you to your hotel to get ready and we’ll go out for lunch.”

As well as the day went, you went ahead of yourself, like you often did when things felt too good. It dawned on you this was a little dream, a fleeting paradise in your ordinary life. Like a ticking bomb, it was going to detonate into a million pieces, and you’ll wake up with nothing but little mice, a pumpkin, a tattered dress and the sweetest memory.

The demon lingered in the backroom of your mind, pounding relentlessly at the door, begging to be set free. You felt like you’d gone too deep, like you shouldn’t even have started with all this.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm, darlin’?” Phillip asked when you entered his house, tossing his keys into the entryway bowl.

You couldn’t even fake a smile.

“Did I do something to upset you?” He rubbed your arms and led you to the couch.

He turned your body to him, but you couldn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t drown the riot in your head.

“Please. If it’s my fault, let me fix it.”

“How is this going to work?” Your eyes flicked to his, continuing in a smaller voice. “We don’t live close at all.”

“Got me worried there,” he exhaled, pulling you to his chest. “You can move here, of course.”

“It’s not that easy, is it?”

“I know it’s not. If I’m honest, I don’t have an answer for that yet.” He sighed as he caressed your hair. Silence lingered before he continued, “You know what my drill sergeant used to say? You can’t fly when you keep worrying about falling out of the sky.”

“You told me.” A smile flickered on your lips.

“We’re just a two-hour flight away from each other. As long as you still want this, don’t think too much of what’s going to come. It will work itself out.” He tilted your face to him by the chin. “We’ll work it all out.”

Perhaps he was right. You just needed to focus on what’s right in front of you. When you asked if you could extend your stay for a few more days, he gave you a peck on the lips.

He held you wordlessly for a long time until he got a call for an emergency meeting. He told you not to wait up if he wasn’t done in an hour. You hadn’t planned on staying the night, but you still had your toiletries from the other day. You got ready for bed and rescheduled your return flight, extending the timer on the proverbial bomb, even just for two more days. You wanted to float in this dream a little longer.

It was past 2 in the morning when your door creaked open. You turned, the dim light from the hallway bleeding into the dark.

“Why are you still up?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“I should ask you the same thing.”

He turned the bedside lamp on and sat on the bed, holding your hand.

“I’ve been thinking. You’re really special to me, darlin’. I want to work this out. I promise we’ll find a way, okay?”

You choked out a sob. His words like balm to your burning chest. You sat up and wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re so emotional. It’s adorable.” He let out a small laugh as he stroked your back. “I love you.”

When your tears stopped flowing, he laid you down, caging you between his forearms as he kissed you. Your arm wrapped around his neck, a hand cupping his lightly stubbled jaw. You fell into the kiss, into the sensation of his perfect lips. His hand wandered, pinching, squeezing, rubbing, his lips unrelenting, ever intensifying.

You squirmed under him. “Phil, that’s- you’re being a bit rough.”

He pulled away. “My ex liked it this way.”

You appreciated his passion, but the comment didn’t sit right. He stilled for a second before lying beside you in silence. You didn’t know how long you lay there, but in the dark, your eyes blinked open at the click of the door.

Your heart drained, hollow, hanging by a thread like it was going to float away out of your gaping chest any second. What you thought was going to be a comforting night turned unkind, instead leaving you feeling less than. You let out an uneven breath, pulling the comforter closer around you, willing it to drown the ache.

The next morning, Phillip was quiet, not even meeting your eyes as he told you to get ready. It was jarring, when for days it was as if he couldn’t keep his hands off you, but that day felt like he didn’t even want you anywhere near him.

Perhaps he had a lot in mind, maybe something about his meeting the night before – you knew it happened sometimes, but this time, the stillness made you nervous. Rejected, unwanted, out of place. Something was brutally wrong and it hung heavy in the air, it made you hard to breathe.

He finally broke the silence when he pulled up at the hotel lobby. “This isn’t working out.”

You turned to him, not believing your ears. “What?”

“This is a mistake,” he declared.

“But… Last night, we just- You said you loved me.“

“Why are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It’s not.”

The harsh tone sent chills down your spine. He’d never used that voice on you.

“I thought you liked sex, sweetheart. Why’d you wear those cute outfits otherwise?” His smirk turned to a frown. “Also, you laugh too loud. It’s off putting.”

You froze in your seat, like you wanted to scream but your voice a prisoner in your throat. Your stomach churned, bitter, singeing.

“You didn’t think this was real, did you? Don’t worry, it’s not like I don’t want to see you again. We’ll get coffee when I visit, okay?”

Your lips quivered as you blinked your tears away, but you were not going to let yourself cry.

“Oh, come on! Don’t start crying now. You’re making me look like the bad guy.” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

Was he not? When he told you all those things, some of the kindest words anyone had ever said to you. When the gold he gave you was brass at heart.

“Fuck you, Graves.” You got out of the car, slamming the door shut. Your tears stained your cheeks as you walked away.

It was the last time you saw or heard from him until two months later.

Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m attached now. We’re visiting next month. Want to meet up?

You regretted not blocking his number. You wiped away the tear that slipped.

Three years later, the universe sprinkled chaos and stirred its pot. You met another Phillip. Your cousin asked if it was the Graves variety. You said no, with a smile brighter than you ever remembered smiling.

This one held your hand and brought you home to meet his mum. This one didn’t bring up his exes when you didn’t ask. This one laughed harder when you cackled.

This one didn’t have to lie about his intentions, because a few years later, his promise of forever came without you even having to ask.

Thanks @shadofireshinobi for making me write this <3

@tiredmetalenthusiast @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

[tgmsunmontue]

Jake's Cakes

Hangster AU MeetCute. 2k. (Teen for swearing but more General). Complete. Iceman has tasked Bradley with organising Maverick's 60th birthday cake. This goes as planned until Mav decides to be a gremlin.

                He’s filled in an online form and gotten confirmation that they can make a cake for his time frame, and he’s not sure when ordering some baked goods required such a procedure. He’s pretty sure his mom always just bought his cakes from the grocery store. But it’s Mav’s sixtieth, his first significant birthday since they started patching their broken relationship a few years ago. Ice has asked him to organize a cake, enough for a hundred people, and okay, that seems extravagant but Ice is the one planning the party and he feels like he’s in his bad books, so he’ll do as Ice asks.

                There’s a bell attached to the door and it jingles as he pushes it open and he looks around the store called Jake’s Cakes. It’s crisp and clean, sparkling glass display cabinet showing a selection of carefully decorated cupcakes, some cookies and slices, all looking delicious, which is what the reviews had said, and he hopes like hell they were real ones. He doesn’t want to screw this up.

                “Hi, can I help you?”

                “Hi, I have an appointment?”

                “Bradley?”

                “Yeah, that’s me.”

                “Great. I’ll let Jake know you’re here. He won’t be very far away. We have an album if you’d like to look at pictures and get some ideas.”

                He expects an actual physical album, but instead it’s a tablet and he can flip through the pictures with a swipe of his finger and he feels more confident with his choice of bakery. There’re lots of photos and also photos and even short video of the cakes in-progress, and it’s pretty damned cool seeing the time and skill that goes into making and decorating, but also knowing that he’s chosen a place that takes care to show that to the customers as well.

                Then a guy is walking toward him, wearing chef whites that have a colorful trim, maybe a cupcake pattern? He’s taller, younger than Bradley expected, also a lot more male than he was expecting, which he realizes is incredibly sexist of him. He’s grinning, pulling off disposable gloves and holding his hand out to shake and Bradley takes it.

                “Hi. Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “Yeah, that’s me.”

                “Hi. I’m Jake. So, how can I help you?”

                “Uh, hi, I need to order a cake for a birthday party?”

                “Yeah, of course. It’s generally why most people make appointments with me. You have an idea on flavor and how many people you’re wanting to feed?”

                “Yeah, about one hundred people, and his favorite flavor is vanilla.”

                “Boyfriend?”

                Bradley pulls a face.

                “No. Godfather. It’s his 60th. But you can’t refer to his age on the cake, he’ll kill me and they won’t find my body.”

                The guy lets his eyes sweep down the length of Bradley’s body and then back up and he feels himself flush. He’s not used to guys checking him out so blatantly. The Navy might have moved a little with the times, but that is not something he’s ever encountered outside of a nightclub.

                “That would be a shame.”

                “Uh.”

                “Back to the cake… What were you thinking in terms of decorations and frosting? Any hard no’s or flavor profiles?”

                “He likes lemon. He’s pretty boring when it comes to cake flavors actually,” Bradley realizes, and it actually makes a nice change to have something that is just simple when it comes to Mav. Not the complicated mess that has been their relationship in the past.

                “We can afford to have a few flavors if we’re feeding one hundred. Maybe a classic chocolate mudcake for those that don’t like vanilla?”

                “Yeah, sure. You’re the expert.”

                “So, what’s he into? Do we have a theme for the party or something I can use to guide me for decorating?”

                “Uh, there isn’t a theme I don’t think. Let me check. He’s a naval aviator.”

                “Does it run in the family?”

                “What?”

                “Being a naval aviator?”

                Bradley shrugs.

                “Yeah, I guess it does.”

                “Okay, so long serving naval aviator and obviously proud of it. Does he have a call sign?”

                “Yeah. Maverick.”

                “Okay. that’s a cool callsign, I was hoping for something a bit goofy, like Possum or something.”

                “Sorry to disappoint?”

                “Oh, there is nothing disappointing about you…”

                Bradley flushes again, not sure how to flirt back in the face of such brazen interest. He’s used to far more subtle approaches, but he doesn’t want to make the guy think he’s not interested.

                “He fixes up motorbikes, and planes. His favorites are a P51 Mustang plane and a Kawasaki-Ninja bike… he loves flying. A lot. More than anything else probably.”

                “Is it the sky or the speed?”

                “Uh, the speed probably. He’s a bit of a daredevil.”

                “Okay. I’ve got some ideas. You want me to sketch them up and send them to you, or do you trust me?”

                “Just tell me what you’re thinking…” Jake just raises an eyebrow at him, and Jesus fuck, does the man never stop flirting? “About the cake?”

                Jake grins, his eyes crinkling like he knows he’s flustering him and he’s taking a lot of pleasure in it.

                “Three tier on a large board, using fondant because then I can paint it. One half of the board is a road in the desert, with the bike, the other half of the board an ocean with a carrier and then the cake itself painted like the sky but have a whole bunch of silhouettes of planes and then a model of the P51 at the top. That’s what I’m thinking. For the cake.”

                “Sounds good,” Bradley manages to croak out.

…            …            …

                After paying the deposit and organizing pickup for a couple of weeks’ time he somehow leaves without a date, or even the guys number; he’s never felt so mentally undressed while remaining fully clothed. Maybe it was just flirting and he’s that out of practice.

…            …            …

                Pete looks at the cake and it’s gorgeous, clearly made with him in mind and he’s glad he’s managed to see it without an audience, because he feels a little emotional looking at it. He definitely wants to try it, even though it’s one of those pieces of almost art which some people feel bad about cutting up. He doesn’t, cake is made to be eaten. He pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures, then decides a video is necessary to capture the proper amount of details, the little white tips on the waves as the carrier breaks through the water, the planes in the sky, and he can identify the different types and he’s really impressed.

                It is making him quite hungry though, but he can’t cut a slice, Tom and Bradley would both kill him and be each other’s alibi… He spies a little box, sealed with the sticker of what must be the bakery and his eyes light up, opening it easily. He’d expected maybe a slice of cake, instead there’s three cookies… They’re heart shaped, like the conversation heart candy you get around Valentine’s Day. Except he knows Tom had asked Bradley to organize the cake.

                Call me.

                Hot stuff.

                And there, finally, on the last cookie is a phone number and Pete laughs, because clearly Bradley made an impression himself. He quickly snaps a picture of all of them and sends them to Tom along with the message ‘why do you not get me cookies like this?’ because these are giving him the ability to wind up both Bradley and Tom at the same time, which is a rare and unusual treat. Just like these cookies.

                He takes the Hot stuff biscuit and takes a bite, and it’s tangy with lemon, not sickly-sweet like he was expecting and he finishes it off, ponders whether they’re all the same flavor. Taking another photo to make sure he has the number in full he reaches for the Call me cookie and mmm, yeah, raspberry. He deliberately breaks a few crumbs off and scatters them in the box, eyes the last cookie and decides that Bradley’s wrath is worth it. If he ends up dating the baker then he’ll have an endless supply of cookies. The cookie with the phone number on it is passionfruit flavored and he’s impressed that none of them have crossed the line into sickly sweet. He could have a fourth one, if there was one. Instead he looks at the photos he’s taken, takes another of the empty box with nothing but crumbs. He then sends two pictures, captioned with Before and After… making sure the number is not completely visible. Cookies were delicious. Thanks. Think the bakery person wants to ask you out.

…            …            …

                Jake hasn’t read a person that wrong in a while, the message he’d received yesterday a little surprising. Normally when he flirts with people who are in a relationship they’re quick to let him know, rather than act adorably flustered and like they’ve never been flirted with before. He’d been pretty sure Bradley had been into him, but he shrugs, plenty of other fish in the sea and birds in the sky. He hears the bell ring from the door opening and heads out, the only one not yet elbow deep in baking or decorating, although when he sees Bradley standing at the counter he wants to do an abrupt one-eighty.

                “Morning. How can I help? Was everything okay with the cake?” Jake asks, smoothly professional.

                “Yeah, it was great. It looked amazing and tasted great. Uh. Thanks. I was just wondering…”

                Jake frowns, wonders if the guy is going to ask him out.

                “I was just wondering if you’d be interested in a date?”

                “Your husband let me know in no uncertain terms that you are not available.”

                “What?”

                “What?”

                “I’m not married.”

                “Well, this guy seems to think the opposite,” Jake says, pulling up the message from the number, sliding his phone across the counter, offering it to Bradley to pick it up.

…            …            …

>>The person you gave those cookies to is happily married. While I agree that he is hot stuff, he will not be calling you, he’s mine.

                Bradley frowns, looks at the number and doesn’t immediately recognize it but he’s got an inkling… He pulls out his own phone, starts typing in the number and within five digits it’s showing Ice’s contact information.

                Of fucking course.

                He groans.

                “Find your husband?”

                “Not my husband. My godfather’s husband. My Uncle Ice,” Bradley says, slides both phones back across to Jake to show the matching number. “Mav took the cookies, ate them and sent me a message with a photo of the crumbs. And a before photo, but he didn’t show your whole number, but I, uh, got the message.”

                “Oh…” Jake’s grin is slow, but it’s there and it warms Bradley from inside-out.

                “Ice obviously got a photo with your whole number… And I didn’t need your number, I know where you work.”

                “Yeah, but I was asking you out.”

                “And I’m here to say yes. Well, assuming you’re not scared off by my apparently very possessive Uncle, who I swear won’t have a problem with you as long as you’re not trying to actually ask Mav out, then… yeah. Let’s go out.”

                “I finish at three.”

                “Three. See you then.”

                “Look forward to it.”

[trulyunholy]

no in-between | part two

matt murdock x reader, college au

notes: 18+, minors please DNI. reader is written as afab, but it's not specifically stated. no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k

part one here

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“What’s going on with you?” Annie asks when she finds you cursing in the hotel lobby.

“No room, apparently,” you tell her through a frustrated sigh. “Online reservation got fucked up and they don’t have any more vacant rooms.”

“Shit, indeed,” Annie says. “What are you gonna do?”

You sigh deeply again and shrug. “Figure something out, I guess.”

“Do you wanna crash with me?” she offers. “I’m staying with Quin too, but-”

“No, no, that’s alright,” you decline quickly. This trip is already stressing you out, and as much as you love Annie and how close the two of you have become over the past few months, staying even a night with her and her girlfriend sounded like hell. “I’ll figure this out. But thanks.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” she says. And then she’s off again, flouncing up the stairs toward her room to do whatever it is she does to get ready for the rest of her day.

You sink down into one of the lobby chairs and bury your face in your hands, allowing yourself a moment of self-pity. But it’s quickly interrupted when someone politely clears their throat next to you.

“Oh, shit, uh, I mean- Dr. Murdock. Hi,” you stutter, a mixture of embarrassment and surprise in your voice.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” he says politely. “You’re out a room?”

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Then, a little too quickly, you add, “But, I mean, it’s not a big deal. I can just, like, sleep in the lobby or something. Maybe they’ll make an exception for me since they screwed up.”

Your attempt at a joke falls flat. But the way he says your name then, followed by a humorless laugh, like you going without a bed was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard of, well, it tightens something in your chest.

“You aren’t sleeping in the lobby,” he tells you. “And it’s unlikely you’ll find any other hotels nearby with vacancies. Turns out this conference has most places pretty booked up.” Then, only seconds later, he holds a plastic card out toward you. “Just take mine.”

“I, uh-” You laugh uncomfortably, thinking maybe it’s a joke. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” he tells you, matter-of-factly.

You feel frozen in place. You don’t want to be rude and turn down the more-than-generous offer that Dr. Murdock has no obligation to make, but you can’t possibly accept it. Besides, wouldn’t it be inappropriate? You aren’t sure where the line fell on that, but it feels blurry at best.

“But where would you stay?” you ask solemnly. “If I take your room, I mean, where would you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he answers, flashing you a smile so hypnotic you couldn’t look away, even if you wanted to. “I’ll figure something out.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” you say, a joking tone contrasting against your racing heart.

“Come on,” he tells you, slipping the door key back in his coat pocket and starting toward the front doors of the hotel. “We can argue about this on the way to the conference.”

The first day of the two-day conference is…uneventful. Okay, it’s boring. But it’s not like you can skip, and you have to admit that several of the presentations did give you solid ideas for your own thesis project. But after several hours of speakers and polite conversations with acquaintances and scholarly strangers alike, you’re ready for the day to be over.  As luck would have it, you run into Dr. Murdock in the hotel lobby, both of you arriving at nearly the same time. Unfortunately, he’d won the argument earlier, and you’d agreed to take his room. But now, standing in front of the door to his hotel room, you’re hesitant again.

“I still don’t feel good about this,” you tell him as he holds the key card toward you expectantly. You take it. “But thank you.”

You wait for him to say something, to say goodbye, anything. But he doesn’t. When you don’t say anything either, he clears his throat.

“My, uh- my suitcase is still-”

“Oh, right!” You feel like an idiot. “Sorry.”

You unlock the door and step inside, taking in the room. It looks just like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in, with a decent sized bed and a television perched on top of a chest of drawers. There’s a desk pushed against the wall with an office chair in front of it, and a small couch opposite the bed.

It gives you an idea.

“Okay, this may be strange, but hear me out. What if I sleep on the couch?” you ask before you can think better of it.

He steps in behind you and shuts the door. He doesn’t immediately answer you, so you quickly continue.

“I can sleep on the couch and then you’ll still have a bed! I- I know it’s not ideal. Hell, I know it probably isn’t exactly appropriate. But it won’t be weird, I swear. Or, maybe it will be, but it doesn’t have to be.”

You hate the way you ramble when you’re nervous, and you hate that you’re always doing it in front of Dr. Murdock. His face remains unreadable, so you take a deep breath and start again.

Look, I don’t like the idea of sleeping in the lobby or a broom closet somewhere, but I don’t like the idea of you having to, either. Especially since you’re, y’know…”

“Blind?” he suggests with a smirk.

“Well, yes,” you admit sheepishly, heat rushing to your cheeks. “But there’s a perfectly good couch here, and there’s no reason either of us should go without if we don’t have to.”

Silence again. More than anything, you wish you could just read his mind, know what he’s thinking.

“It really is a win-win right?” you add in as a last-ditch effort to convince him. “I’ll stay on the couch, I’ll stay out of your way. And I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

What is wrong with you? This is such a bad idea, and he’s probably going to admonish you, tell you how inappropriate the mere suggestion of it is, that he’s going to have to report this. You’d probably deserve it, too.

“Alright,” he finally says hesitantly, to your surprise. “But you can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“What? No-” you begin to protest, but he raises a hand to stop you.

“You can have the bed,” he repeats, slower this time, “and I’ll take the couch.”

It’s not up for discussion, you realize. You nod your head, say okay, and move to put your bag on the bed. As you begin to unpack, you remember another awkward aspect of room-sharing.

“Is, uh, is it alright if I take a shower?”

You aren’t sure why you feel a little embarrassed asking. Taking a shower isn’t anything intimate, and there would be walls and a door with a lock between the two of you. No chance for accidental slip-ups. Still, the thought of him being in the next room while you were in such a vulnerable state, well, it’s enough to send something icy through your body that you know a hot shower won’t wash away.

“All yours,” he says, not turning toward you as he shuffles through his own suitcase.

“Thanks,” you say, hurrying to the bathroom. “Promise I’ll be quick.”

You think he says something else, but it’s lost behind the heavy click of the bathroom door.

You aren’t sure why your heart is racing again as you adjust the knob in the shower, trying to figure out which way to turn the damn thing to get the water to a decent temperature. Well, that’s not quite true. You know exactly why it’s racing. It’s racing because you’re sharing a room with Dr. Murdock. Because he’s only feet away from you as you kick off your uncomfortable heels and slip out of your dress. Because you know that tonight you’re going to see your professor -your kind, helpful, smart, stupidly attractive professor- in a very less than professional setting.

God, what are you doing?

Why did you agree to this? As you step into the shower and struggle to find comfort in the low water pressure, you can’t help but think about how much better sleeping in the lobby or a broom closet or literally anywhere else would be.

Well, maybe not better. But it would avoid a situation that could so easily ruin things. The way it could make these ridiculous and stupid and inappropriate feelings you’ve already formed so much worse. But what else were you supposed to do? It’s the logical choice. And he agreed to it.

But you suggested it.

You push down the thought as you make quick work of washing your hair and ignoring the temptation of easing the uncomfortable pressure building up inside of you. By the time you’re done and dressed in your pajamas, no more than twenty minutes have passed. You aren’t sure you’ve ever gotten ready for bed so quickly in your life.

“All done,” you say cheerfully as you step out of the bathroom, leftover steam rolling out of the door behind you. “Bathroom’s free if you…need it.

“Great,” he says, shooting you a comfortable smile that almost feels forced. Like a mask. One of politeness, of tense togetherness. You wonder if you’re wearing the same one. “I hope you didn’t rush.”

“No, no,” you say with a tense chuckle. “Just, uh, exhausted. Ready for bed.”

He nods, and without another word, he’s gone, the bathroom door closing softly behind him.

You sit on the bed for no more than a minute before you start devising a plan. There’s no way you’re letting him sleep on this couch. For one, it’s insanely small, and you’re significantly shorter than he is, so it only makes sense. Also, you can’t, in good conscience, let your professor, your senior, sleep on that tiny couch while you, his student, take up the entire queen sized bed yourself. It just wouldn’t be fair. And since this whole situation was your idea in the first place, you feel you have to get the short stick. You can’t justify this whole thing to yourself otherwise.

So you quickly grab a couple pillows off of the bed and an extra blanket from the closet, and you make yourself as comfortable as possible on the couch, your legs curled closer to your stomach than is strictly comfortable, but you manage. If you can fall asleep here before he gets out of the bathroom, you figure he’ll just let you sleep and take the bed. He couldn’t argue with you that way. Another win in your book.

At first you’re worried that you’ll have a hard time falling asleep. You always have trouble sleeping away from home, away from your own bed with your own pillows and blankets and your little sound machine that you forgot to pack for the trip. But you’re exhausted. From the plane this morning, from the long day, from the hours and hours you spent before the trip preparing for this conference. And as you lay in the dark, listening to the rain against the building and the thunder growing more distant, and as you hear the fall of water as the shower is turned on again, you finally drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, you aren’t sure why. Maybe it’s the thunder that moved closer while you slept. Maybe it was your full bladder from all of the water you nervously kept drinking to keep your hands busy at the conference hall. Maybe it was just how uncomfortable this damn couch was. Whatever the reason, you’re awake now, and you take the opportunity to get up and stretch and take a quick trip to the bathroom.

You’re careful to be as quiet as you possibly can, even washing your hands under the smallest stream of water you can manage to get out of the sink. But by the time you crack open the bathroom door, you see him in the light that spills out, sitting up in the bed and rubbing his face.

“Shit,” you whisper, even though there’s no real need to whisper. You’re both up now. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, I tried to be quiet.”

“I’m a light sleeper,” is all he says. His voice, though, doesn’t sound like he was sleeping. It sounds clear, alert. Much different from your still-groggy voice. You wonder if he always wakes up so alert.

“I’m sorry,” you offer again, voice still quiet.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Which makes sense. What is there to say? But you move from the bathroom back toward the couch, and click on the lamp on the coffee table next to you. The room wasn’t huge by any means. But there’s enough distance between the two of you that it doesn’t feel as awkward as you were afraid it would. 

What is awkward, though, is the silence. The air is tense while you stand by the coffee table and he sits resting against the headboard, looking completely lost in thought. You take the opportunity to look him over, taking in his slept-in appearance. The comforter is pulled up to his waist, but you admire the light t-shirt he’s wearing, so different from his usual professional attire. You take in his shoulders, his arms, and stare at him in the soft lamp light longer than necessary. You’re completely startled when he finally speaks up.

“Why did you take the couch?’ he asks, his voice soft but his tone serious. “I told you-”

“I couldn’t take the bed,” you start, defensively. “You’re my professor, and my superior, and you’re blind, for god's sake. What kind of person would I be if I let you sleep on this couch when you paid for the room? Especially because that thing is so damn uncomfortable.” You rub your back dramatically as if to prove a point, but a genuine stretch and groan follows.

He goes silent again. You don’t think you've ever seen him so quiet. You aren’t sure if it’s the night, or if it’s the situation, or maybe both. But you would give anything to be in his head right now. To know what he’s thinking, what he’s contemplating, what’s taking up so much of his mind.

“Sleep on the bed,” he says, and there’s no hint of a question in his voice. As if he’s worried that the demand was too harsh, he adds a soft, “Please.”

“You can’t sleep-”

“I won’t sleep on the couch,” he says, beating you to your own tired argument.

“What, are you going to sleep on the floor?” you bite back. You’re tired. It’s late, you couldn’t have been asleep long, it’s still dark outside, and you wish he would just give in and let you win this one.

“No, I-“ he cuts himself short, seeming unsure for just a moment before regaining his composure. “This bed is more than big enough for two people,” he says, voice level. “It’s big enough that two people could sleep on it without…being in each other's way.”

Oh. He’s suggesting…that. He’s actually suggesting that the two of you share a bed. 

He wants to share a bed. With you. 

No, that’s not right. 

With you? No, of course it’s not like that, you tell yourself. He’s just being diplomatic. It’s an easy solution to come to, just like you suggesting the couch. It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything. 

But if anyone finds out that you shared a bed with your professor., even if it was nothing like it sounded, well, it could be disastrous. For both of you.

But the bed looks warm, and inviting, and a thousand times better than the scratchy extra blanket and that uncomfortable couch. And he’s right, there’s more than enough room for you to each sleep on one side with plenty of space in the middle. There won’t be any risk of…anything. You stop yourself immediately from thinking about what that anything could be and take a deep breath.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. I understand that it isn’t exactly appropriate and if you’re uncomfortable, forget I even suggested it. But…” He lets the word linger in the air, and it’s so full of possibilities, of actions and consequences and everything in between, and your chest starts to feel tight again. “It’s a win-win. Right?”

“What if someone finds out?” 

The question is out of your mouth before you even realize what you’re saying, and you wish you could take it back. It makes it sound like you’re insinuating that something could happen, when that isn’t a possibility at all, of course it isn’t, because he’s professional and smart and kind, and you’re…well, you.

Luckily he doesn’t give you much time to spiral.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

You know it’s meant as a joke, as a tongue-in-cheek, let’s make light of an awkward situation, kind of thing. But…maybe it’s the hushed tone he’s still speaking, or the soft yellow light casting shadows in just the right way, or his soft t-shirt and his disheveled hair and his arms and my god those arms.

It’s almost like he notices your reaction; maybe he hears the way your breath catches, or maybe your heart is beating so loudly he could hear it out of your chest and across the room. It sure as hell feels like it’s pounding loud and fast enough for that to be possible. But he tenses up too, just a bit. Just enough to be noticeable under your admiringly sharp stare.

“We both need the rest,” he adds, voice much calmer than his appearance would suggest. It sounds practiced, measured. “You won’t get any rest on that couch, and I won’t be able to sleep knowing that you’re miserable on it. Besides, I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

It’s meant to reassure you. Or maybe to throw your words back at you to lighten the mood, to try to show that things aren’t as tense as they clearly were. But you swallow it down and force a pathetic smile onto your face and into your voice.

“There’s enough pillows here to make a barrier between us,” you say, trying out a joke to lighten things on your end, too. He chuckles and shakes his head and the tension does melt away a little. “I am exhausted. And you’re right, I won’t get any sleep on that poor excuse for a couch,” you say. “Just…as long as you’re sure it’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he says, and, almost immediately, throws the comforter back, settles himself back in bed, and turns to his side to face the wall. To face away from you.

Without another word, you flip the lamp off and carefully make your way to the bed. You go slowly to avoid tripping or hitting your foot like you’re prone to do, but also to delay the inevitable disappointment that being so close to him will undoubtedly bring. Once you get into the bed though, you swear it’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever laid in, and the sheets are so warm. And the rain hitting rhythmically against the window reminds you of your sound machine that you left at home, and your exhaustion washes over you and weighs down your eyelids once more.

“Thank you,” you mumble a few moments later before drifting off.

When you open your eyes, the room is flooded with gray morning light. The rain stopped overnight but you can tell from your view through the window that it could start up again at any moment. You’re so warm under the thick comforter and the thought of having to get up makes you groan out loud. You have to admit, you haven’t slept this well in a long time. As the sleep dissipates from your brain, you remember where you are and the situation that transpired the night before. You feel a coil of anticipation growing tight in your stomach, but when you turn around and shuffle to sit up, you see the bed is empty.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting. He told you he’d be gone by the time you woke up. So why does disappointment grow in your stomach and snake through your veins?  You pull the comforter up across your chest and grant yourself a few seconds to sit in that disappointment. Would it have been worse if he had been there when you woke up? Would what seemed so simple in the soft lamp light last night be more complex, more uncomfortable in the gray light of the overcast morning? You aren’t sure.

But you don’t have much time to think about it now anyway. You have to get up and get ready for the busy day ahead of you. With one more stretch and a deep breath that leaves you ignoring the fact that the sheets smell like him, you force yourself out of bed and toward the bathroom.

You wonder if you’ll find any evidence of his daily life in the hotel bathroom, toothpaste or body wash maybe. You can’t help but think about what his domestic life is like. What it could look like and where you could fit into it. Would you ever be able to fit into the life of a man like him?

No. Of course you couldn’t. And you should really stop thinking about things like that, you tell yourself.

The bathroom is totally clean, stocked with fresh towels and all. You tell yourself that the feeling tugging at your stomach again is nothing more than a need to eat breakfast.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need - Part 1

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Chapter Warning: Premature labour mentioned, brief mention of sexual harassment in the workplace.

Chapter Summary: We meet our reader and one of her soul friends. Does she need a bat?

Message Received Daniel Are you on your way yet? I think she might be calmer if she knew you were at least on route.

Daniel, soulmate to one of your best friends, had woken you this morning with a frantic phone call. Annemarie, one of your soul friends was in labour, but it was too early for baby to make an appearance and you and your other best and soul friend, Ryan, were her other birthing partners and were now in a race to get there.

You were all in. You’d taken classes, baby first aid, read books and had your bag packed for weeks already just in case. You were going to be a godmother and this was serious shit. Ryan had watched most of the online labour classes from behind a pillow like he was watching a Blumhouse horror.

You sent a quick reply to Daniel.

I’m just waiting for Ry, I’m going to start beeping the horn in a minute.

Ryan often kept you waiting. Always a change of outfit or something he’d forgotten. He hated the impatient beeping.

You leaned your head back against the head rest and let out a yawn. Not the best start when you had a 6 hour drive ahead of you.

You were startled by the ringing of your phone coming through the hands free, Ryan calling displayed on the dashboard.

“Why are you calling me? Hurry up, Annemarie is freaking out that we aren’t on the way yet.”

“Start the car and get ready to floor it?”

“What? Why?”

Your attention was caught by a familiar figure entering the stairwell that you could see from where you were parked.

"Why are you running?"

“They wouldn’t let me leave!”

“What do you mean they wouldn’t let you leave? This was all agreed! You’re owed the time!”

“I know! But she’s not here!”

By she, Ryan meant his boss, Jo, who also happened to be your old boss. You’d both sweet talked her into letting him have the leave when the baby was on the way. Short notice leave was never agreed to but Ryan had gone in early and stayed late, covering for others and helping out as much as possible. Being the life and soul of the office and covering for others so they could leave for their kids or appointments meant his colleagues had also been ok with it too. You and Jo were good friends and had stayed in touch after you’d left. She’d been a huge support to you since your almost (it probably was) breakdown post breakup, so you’d thrown in some babysitting for her adorable twin boys and a deal was made. But Jo and her adorable kids, and her soulmate husband were currently sunning themselves somewhere exotic. That’s management earnings for you.

“Brian is pissed off, I may have told him to go fuck himself when he said he wouldn’t let me leave and he’d sack me if I did.”

It was then you spotted Brian at the top of the stairwell in pursuit or Ryan.

“He’s following you. I’m getting the bat.”

“Alright Harley Quinn calm the fuck down.”

“You’re the one who said he wouldn’t let you leave.”

“Yeah well he can go fuck himself.”

“Wait why do you have a box? Are you stealing? Am I an accessory? I’m getting the bat.”

“Just start the car!”

You started the car and put your seatbelt on. The fire exit flew open as Ryan dashed through it, jacket a mess, backpack half on and the box still in his arms, Brian and now a security guard on his heals.

Ryan practically threw himself into your car, partly falling onto you in the process.

“Go, go, go”

“Why do I feel like there’s more to this?”

“Go!!!”

You spotted Brian nearing the car and put your foot on the accelerator.

A mile down the road with Ryan still squished in the passenger seat you’d pulled over to sort out your chaotic friend. You placed the box in the backseat, along with his backpack, spotting he’d stole the office plant, as Ryan took off his jacket and stretched like a cat. You smirked at him.

“What?”

“What the fuck was that? And you stole the plant!”

“He’s an asshole!”

“Oh I know, my ass still lives in fear of his grabby hands!”

“Exactly!! I may have brought that up, along with a few other things.”

“So are you fired?”

“Possibly.”

You pulled him into a hug.

“Proud of you.”

He laughed into your shoulder. You were always proud of each other in weird ways.

“The ten years ago Ryan would never.”

“Well I learnt my dramatics from the best?”

You gasped in mock horror.

“Meeeeee, no you meant Darcy right? Or Wanda? It was Wanda, wasn’t it?”

“Really? Wanda is the least dramatic of us all!“

“She set fire to her ex boyfriend’s clothes and got us to dance round it in our underwear.”

“Oh I miss that little witch.”

“Speaking of the little witch. You’re on phone duty, get those two on a group call but call Annemarie first. She’s in a state and we need to move our arses. Then call the lady re the Airbnb.” You replied, moving back to the drivers seat.

Ryan slipped on his sunglasses and leaned against the car. You pressed the horn hard.

“Hey unemployed, get in the car!!”

He startled and got in.

“Asshole.”

“I learnt from the best” you said pulling on your own sunglasses and turning on the radio.

“I love it when you’re assertive!” He replied as you snorted with laughter.

You were half a mile down the road when Ryan spoke up again, as he looked for his phone.

“I wonder if we’ll see any hot bikers this time.”

[pensat-i-fet]

Finding the perfect gift (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Not much to say about this one, just a cute little request 😊 enjoy!! ❤️**

Word count: 1266

Masterlist

Wattpad

The news of Ines' pregnancy had made everyone happy, of course. But Rúben was probably the happiest of all of Bernardo's teammates. You could tell by the way he beamed whenever Ines called him Uncle Rúben and found it adorable. He was ready to spoil that baby as much as possible.

"We are invited to the baby shower", he announced one day when he came back from training.

"I would be more surprised if we weren't", you laughed. "When is it?"

"Next week. And I need to buy a present".

"Sure. I have a couple of things saved on my Amazon wishlist that we can order".

"But that would be your present. I have to get one that's mine".

That made you raise an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that, as a couple, we can get away with something that is from the both of us. You know, like we do for birthdays, Christmas, …".

"Yes, but it's Bernardo. Not a random teammate. So I want to make a bigger effort".

"Alright. I know what I'm ordering so go ahead and get something on your own".

He thought it would be so easy. It was just a baby, right? And his friends would appreciate anything he got for their child but…he just couldn’t find the right gift, at all.

“Can I see your Amazon account for a second?”, he asked you one day when he saw you ordering something.

“What for?”

“I ordered something from it once and I need to check one thing quickly if you don’t mind”.

“Sure”, you said, not thinking much about it. “Let me finish the order”.

When you were done, you passed the iPad to him, still logged into your account and he went to your wishlist right away but…there were no baby things! Your order history showed the clothes and toys you had bought for baby Silva but all the other things you were supposed to have saved on your wishlist were gone. You and your being an organization freak. It wasn’t the best time for that.

Rúben realised his mistake was probably wanting to buy the gift online. He couldn’t see the sizes or colours well so better to go to a shop. But once he was there, he was overwhelmed. One of the ladies who worked there tried to help him by showing him half the store but most of it just seemed like things the baby was probably going to get from everyone or just useless stuff.

When he got home that day, you were on the sofa reading a book and didn’t have time to say hello to him before he sat down dramatically.

“What’s that face for?”

"I give up", he said, placing his head on your stomach.

"You are giving football up? Come on, you are not that bad".

“The gift”, he said, voice muffled by the jumper you were wearing.

“What gift?”

“The baby’s”.

“You still don’t have one? Rúben, the baby shower is in two days. Just put your name on the cards I got for what I bought. It’ll be fine”.

He looked up at you, still not willing to give up.

“Maybe if we knew the sex of the baby, it’d be easier. It’s the parent’s fault”.

“Don’t be so old-fashioned, Rúben. Toys and colours are unisex”.

He groaned, hiding his face on your stomach again.

“Are you ready to ask for my help now?”, you said, trying not to laugh.

“I’m ready to beg for your help”.

“I quite like the idea of you begging”.

“Can we go to the shop now? Please?”

“Sure, there is one near, around the…”.

“Not that one”, he said, making you frown. “I was there now and I don’t want to embarrass myself more”.

After a 20-minute drive, since the baby shop near your place was now off-limits, you got to the one in a shopping centre.

"Ok, did you have any ideas of what you wanted to get? There are toys, clothes, things for the nursery, for their travel bag, …".

"Why are babies so complicated?"

You bit your lip trying not to laugh at his little tantrum. It was weird to see Rúben not in control of the situation. And it was very amusing too.

"Hi, can I help you?"

He turned hearing the voice of the shop assistant ready to reject her help but you interrupted.

"Yes, thank you. We needed a few things for a newborn".

"Oh, congratulations! You aren't even showing, when are you due?"

Rúben's pale face made you laugh. You couldn't help it.

"I'm not pregnant. It's for a friend. Her baby shower is in a few days and we wanted to get something cute for her baby".

"Of course, sorry. But you would make gorgeous babies. Just saying".

Rúben was now looking pensive.

"She isn't wrong".

"But babies are so complicated", you mocked him.

You put your hands on his shoulders to move him lower and kiss his frown before leading him to follow the shopping assistant that was ready to show you all the things you could buy and then some.

"This is one of our best baby bags. It has space for the diapers, the bottles and all that, but also an area for things the parents might want to carry. So there is no need for handbags or anything else".

"It's lovely", you said. "It almost looks like a normal handbag".

"She probably has one already", said Rúben, annoyed at how basic all the options were.

"Well, they'll be traveling a lot so it's good to have more than one".

He sighed and you took that as a sign to look for something else.

"Rúben, you don't like anything", you whispered to him and noticed his defeated face. "Thank you for your help. We'll think about all the options and come back for something".

"I just…I just want to do something original".

"How about you make your own gift?"

"How?"

"Well, there are all these new things like scrapbooks to write down all the first things the baby does. Or boxes to keep stuff to remember the pregnancy or whatever. I don't know. It was never good at arts and crafts so I went for something basic but useful", you said, shrugging.

Rúben's response was to grab your hand and lead you to another shop…an arts and crafts shop?

"You are always so literal", you laughed. But he finally had an idea. And you could tell how much his mood had improved.

Half an hour later, you left the shop with several bags full of boxes, pencils and other materials he needed for his gift.

And when you got home, it was time to get it all ready. You helped him, picking the colours that looked the cutest together and recommending what each little box could be for. Rúben used that time to teach you more Portuguese words, which he always loved doing.

"Done", he said, looking proud.

"Uncles trying to find the perfect gift for their nephews are so complicated".

                                    **

When you got to the baby shower, you left Rúben alone so you could join Ines and her family.

"Hey, can you take my gift somewhere else?", he asked Bernardo.

"Why? Just put it with the others".

"It's…fragile".

"What did you get?"

"I didn't get it, I made it".

Bernardo smiled at his friend, not surprised at all.

"That's the most Rúben thing I could imagine. Let me take it to our room. Ines and I will open it together later. I'm sure it'll be the best gift our baby got today".

[prussiasqueen]

Hey genuine question: how can someone be both pro-Israel and pro-Palestine? I understand you have family and friends in Israel but how can you be both when Israel has been

-using white phosphorus bombs

-targeting Palestinian journalists for reporting the truth

-shooting children (even BABIES) in the head

-refuse hostage negotiations

-basically running concentration camps and torturing Palestinian civilians

And a bunch of other war criminal shit that even South Africa has recognized

People criticizing Israel and wanting them to give back the land to Palestine is not antisemitism. Yes, there are people who take it too far but historically, Israel is a settler nation and Palestine should get the land back. No sane person is saying they want Jewish people dead/not have a place to go. There are Jewish people in Palestine, it was never about wanting Jewish people dead, it’s about freedom and ending the occupation.

I apologize for the lengthy rant, I just want to help educate people on this matter.

Ok so I’m gonna keep this simple as I can anon, not because I don’t think your questions aren’t important… but it sounds like to me you may need to actually sit down and talk to some Israeli people and get the full scoop and idea of what’s happening on BOTH sides. Can’t really rely too much on listening to just one side, because ya know… propaganda and how the media twists so much.

As stated a lot of what you are saying sounds like a bunch of propaganda and rinse and repeat of the same things being said over and over again.

Truth of the matter is, you’re not seeing beyond October 7th, you’re not seeing what’s been going on beyond 1948, a little bit of searching online and heck, even checking in with Israelis about said information could help a ton with this. Secondly, all the information you provided, Hamas literally did the same things to the Israeli as well and to their own people. Hamas has been torturing people since before all this has happened. Literally you sound like someone who hasn’t batted an eye to any of this until suddenly when things happened during October 7th.

This was never a genocide, this has always been a conflict.

There’s so much here to cover, maybe I should suggest you chatting with parts of jewblr?

Another man I might recommend listening and watching is Mosab Hassan Yousef.

A Palestinian man who not only is just a Palestinian but the son of Hamas co-founder, he is also known as “the green prince” you want some true insight and someone who can really break it down for you to understand, I highly recommend having a listen to his videos online (if you can find them) and also his book “The Son of Hamas” Will help give you a better perspective.

I personally could actually sit down and look at you and say, “alright, so where do we start” but I really don’t feel I need to explain when you can literally see what a lot of us have been saying. I mean hell, if you really wanna know more… (I won’t say tumblr is the best of sourcing but, the Jewish community here and my own reblogs on my other blog have walls and walls and walls of text and sources you can go and read.)

“Shooting children, even babies in the head”

Were you…. Not present when you heard what they did to some of the hostages? Umm… you do know that Hamas killed women and children too, right? I mean this is a conflict and war… I mean like I said so much to cover…

War is gray area when it comes to how it is, it’s never fully one sided, there’s casualties everywhere and there is no winning outcome in it at all.

Also can I just… can I throw one thing in here, yes people want Jews dead. People have been wanting Jews dead since the beginning of human existence on earth, I don’t know what planet where you think this is not the case, but Jews have been ostracized for many many many many years, by the Romans, ancient Egyptian, Greeks, the Germans, the polish, the Russian, the Turkish, and the list goes on and on and on, let’s be real here most of Middle East does not want Israel to exist and the people in it. (Especially Jewish) most Palestinians that support Hamas, do indeed want the Jews dead. That’s not up for debate, so by saying no “sane” person wants Jews dead, well when you support a terrorist group like Hamas, you do want Jews dead. End of discussion.

Many one else willing to help put in more info here… that’d be awesome.

@bottlepiecemuses you have anything to add to this for anon? I’m like really tired and don’t feel like breaking this down more…

[marshmallowprotection]

What will Saeran react to a MC who is really good at mimicking bird sounds?

Because I’m good at mimicking sounds of spotted dove and Asian koel (these two kinds of birds are very common in the place I’m living in) and I always do it in front of my friends or family member just for fun and they’ll just be like 😦 lol

And I’m just wondering how would he react to his MC mimicking bird sounds for the first time in front of him, or maybe mimic bird sounds to prank him (hope he won’t get mad at me I just like to surprise people with my trick lmao-)

See, GE Saeran doesn't know a lot about animals. He has a limited insight to all the animals that exist in this world.

Sure, there are animals that he knows about, but he doesn't know about them if you know what I mean. There's only so much you can learn about the world when your only experience with learning comes from a few books during a short stint you spent in a church.

After that, if it wasn't pertinent to paradise, he wouldn't have had a reason to learn about it. The only way he knows anything about an animal is if it pertains to paradise, or on the off chance it's an animal you love a lot. Like, he has been exposed to cats because of Elizabeth the 3rd, but he doesn't understand why people like cats or what goes into liking them beyond somebody babbling about how cute they are.

He doesn't know a lot about birds. Now, if you expressed an interest in them online, he would have done some research into them to make sure he understood your hobby. But if you unleashed this party trick with no way of letting him find out, he is going to be all inspired. It is absolutely amazing to think that you can do something like that with your body. He will want to know if you can actually communicate with them though.

"My love, I don't know how you discovered this talent. Did you learn how to do this from scratch...? Did you discover your mouth could make that noise on accident? I'm curious, so curious... and, does it summon birds? I've read that if you do the sound just right, there's a chance the bird may appear!"

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

Blinding Lights Chapter Six

Hey guys, welcome back! Chapter Six is finally done. Sorry about the impromptu break. I wasn’t sure who I wanted to continue yet. I had a small amount of writer’s block. This wasn’t what I pictured initially but I think it’ll work. I hope you guys like it! Send me any asks or questions you have! I try to respond to those when I can!

Warnings: Fighting, Threats, Allusions to sexual assault, Kidnapping.

Word Count: 3,322

Masterlist

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

It started as a normal day, the day that the peaceful bubble around us came crashing down. It had been weeks since I had come to live with the boys, weeks since they had rescued me from that hell hole. Days of working out with Jungkook and practicing self-defense, days of painting with Taehyung, cuddling with Jimin, talking about books and gardening with Namjoon, napping with Yoongi, shopping with Hoseok, making dinner with Jin and helping him relax after hectic days at work. They had even set me up with an online therapist, to deal with some of the trauma. Peaceful days that felt like a pretense to the terror now racing through me.

Breakfast started normal, everyone bickering and getting ready for the days ahead of them. Everyone had the day off, for the first time in a while, and we were planning on a nice day in, movies and take out. Low stress, high affection. It started when we all separated to get ready for the day. At first, I didn’t think much of the crash down stairs. Namjoon has tends to break things and he was the one helping Jin with the dishes. The shouting that followed, however, was not normal. Sure, Jin shouted at Namjoon sometimes, but not like this.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. I slip on my tennis shoes, creeping out onto the landing. Smoke fills the room, making everything hazy and hard to see. Someone shut the lights off, maybe the wires were cut, but my feline counterpart allows me good night vision. Sound surrounds me, almost too much to take in at once. This can’t be happening. Not now. I won’t let them hurt my mates. I have to do something. I won’t just sit in one place.

I sneak toward the stairs, my feet noiseless on the carpet. That’s another bright point about being part cat. I see two figures wrestling near the stairs, familiar tiger striped ears glinting at me in the fog. I move without thinking, throwing myself onto the back of the man fighting Taehyung. My arm goes around his neck in a chokehold, like Jungkook taught me. His fingers scrabble at my arms, trying to pry me free, but I refuse to relent. I hold until he stops moving, climbing off of is slumped form.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” My words are hushed and hurried as I crouch by Tae. His hands shake a little but she shakes his head.

“You need to hide. I overheard them talking. They’re after the Omegas. I was looking for Jimin and Jin when he found me,” Taehyung explains in a rush.

“I won’t hide, Tae. I’m going to help. I can’t just sit back anymore,” I say firmly,” You search up here, I’ll search downstairs. If you find Yoongi or Namjoon, let them know. Jungkook or Hoseok would do too.”

He looks like he wants to argue but his shoulders slump a little at the determination in my eyes. He takes my hand and squeezes it, then he’s gone, swallowed by the smoke. I start down the stairs but the sound of someone coming up from downstairs causes me to pause. The stepped on the squeaky stair. Anyone who lives in the house knows to avoid it. I jump over the side railing, landing noiselessly on the floor below. I hide in the shadow of the stairs, listening to the sounds around me. It sounds like there are more people upstairs than down, many feet hurrying around. A familiar chirp, though it sounds panicked, draws my attention. Jin.

I scramble toward the sound, ending up near the sliding glass doors to the patio. An all too familiar man has Jin in his grasp, a growling Namjoon in front of him, his metaphorical hackles raised. The man is the last picture Namjoon had showed me, the man who forcibly marked me.

“I would keep still, if I were you,” The man growls, the hand he has on Jin’s throat tightening imperceptibly,” Wouldn’t want your little Omega to get hurt, would we?”

I can see that it is taking everything in Namjoon to hold back, his Alpha filled with anger at someone else threatening his Omega. I move silently, slinking behind the grand piano. I’m glad it’s closed currently, and silently apologize to Yoongi for what I’m about to do. I grab a heavy glass vase from a nearby cabinet, jumping onto the piano to use it as a landing deck. I dash across its’ surface, jumping and slamming the vase into the back of the man’s head. He crumples, nearly taking Jin down with him. I land in a crouch, watching him for any signs of movement.

“Lets get you somewhere safe, baby, okay?” Namjoon quietly murmurs to Jin. He holds Jin’s shaking form to him tightly,” Are you okay?”

“I’m o-okay,” Jin croaks through his obviously sore throat. Namjoon turns his attention to me.

“The green house should be safe, right? Or the pool house? Taehyung says they’re after the Omegas. That he overheard them talking. I have to find Jimin,” I speak in a flurry, trying to avoid Namjoon’s eyes. I can feel his discontent with that answer.

“If they’re after the Omegas then you need to go and hide with Jin. I will look for Jimin,” Namjoon gives me a pointed look but I shake my head.

“I can’t. You know I can’t. I can’t stand back anymore. I’m going to help,” I finally stand, my hands going to my hips to make a point.

“You can help by keeping Jin safe,” His words are meant to be a compromise but I won’t compromise on this. I shake my head again.

“I won’t let them hurt Jimin. If they do, it’ll be all my fault. I won’t hold back,” Before Namjoon can argue back again, I’m gone. I take off toward the front of the house, looking for my pink haired mate.

Realistically, I know that Jimin can take care of himself, probably better than I can, but I also know that he’s much softer than the rest of the boys. A soft Omega who becomes pliant with praise and cuddles, who can’t hold himself up when he laughs. Who has to cling to people when he’s scared, and likes to have his ears scratched while we watch movies. He’s my softest mate and I won’t let anything happen to him.

For a while, I don’t see anyone. It feels like it’s just me and the dark fog around me. Then, I see a flash of pink from the corner of eye. I follow it, it’s trajectory taking it out of the front door and onto the front lawn. It’s easier to see here, alleviating some of the burning in my eyes. A man is carrying Jimin, who seems to be tied up. He struggles, his whole body shaking with the effort. For a moment, I see red, a bruise already forming on Jimin’s cheek. He drops Jimin on the ground carelessly, like a sack of potatoes. I can see the grunt and wince Jimin gives, even if his mouth is muffled.

Once again, my body moves before I can think. The man hasn’t noticed me, turning to face the front of the house. I hadn’t even noticed that I had moved away from the front door, hiding by the bushes near the front of the house. I move softly, quietly, creeping behind the man and to Jimin. Jimin looks up at me in panic. I pat Jimin’s pocket, finding the pocket knife he keeps for emergencies. The ropes are tough but I manage to get the ones off his wrists. I’m just working on his ankles when a voice causes me to freeze.

“Well, well, well,” The voice is all too familiar and I can feel my anxiety growing. The man that stands before me is my old owner,” I should have known that one cat would lead me to another. My little kitten.”

My mouth tastes like blood. I can feel my chest freezing with anxiety. A hand closes around my own hand and I almost panic, but it’s Jimin. He helps me saw through the last of the rope, pulling me to my feet and backing toward the house. His body covers mine, blocking me from view. Master tuts, his expression sour. He would never allow me to call him anything else.

“Stay away from us,” Jimin growls, his arms caging me in. I press to his back, my whole body shaking. I need to move, to do something. He’s too close to Jimin. I can’t let him hurt Jimin.

“Little cat, you seem determined to stand between what’s mine. Maybe I should take him with us, hmmm, Little Kitten?” He practically purrs, his eyes meeting mine,” I bet you would do even more things for me if I brought you a playmate, huh? And he’s just so pretty.”

He reaches his hand forward, as if to touch Jimin’s cheek, but I smack his hand away. His expression is shocked, and honestly, mine probably is too. My expression is quickly replaced with a glare. He won’t touch what’s mine, won’t hurt what’s mine. Hurting Jimin would hurt everyone else and I can’t let that happen.

“Don’t touch him,” I growl, my words bordering on a hiss.

“Awe, no faith in me? You know I’m always kind to what’s mine, Little Kitten,” Master’s lip curls, his eyes dark.

“Don’t call me that,” I snarl,” That name doesn’t belong to you. And you’re not going to touch him. I won’t let you hurt him.”

Jimin seems surprised by what’s happening, which makes it easier to change our positions, my body now in front, shielding him. He struggles a little, though belatedly, but he doesn’t seem to want to distract me. I can feel my nails lengthening, like claws, my own rage possessing me. Knowing everything that he’s done to me, the idea of him wanting to do that to Jimin, to put Jimin through the same things I went through? That won’t happen. I’ll tear his throat out.

“Little Kitten, you seem to forget who you belong to. Whose brand you wear on your shoulder,” A clicking sound as my blood running cold, and then there’s a gun pointed at my forehead. Jimin stiffens behind me,” Do I need to kill him? To remind you? I’d rather not wound something so pretty. Maybe I should hurt one of the other ones? The Tiger or the Bunny? I could probably make money from the Panther and the Wolf.”

“Please. Please don’t hurt them. Please. If I go with you, will you leave them alone? Please?” I’m pleading, almost begging,” I’ll be a good girl. I won’t try to run.”

“Hmmm,” He taps his chin in contemplation. I can feel Jimin shaking at my back, his fingers curled into the material of my t-shirt,” Sure, I can take you back, Little Kitten. But, I will be taking the Calico too. Male Calicos are so rare. He’d be a good commodity to add to my collection.”

“No, please, please no. Leave him alone,” I feel like screaming, like tearing him limb from limb. His hand closes around my arm, yanking me forward and out of Jimin’s finger tips. I can hear a grunt and the sound of fighting behind me,” Jimin!”

“Let her go,” The voice is dark and almost unrecognizable. I look up, expecting to see someone like Yoongi or Namjoon, but the dark voice belongs to Jungkook. There’s a gun in the Bunny hybrid’s hand, his eyes dark and stormy. Master moves me, my body now a shield for him as his own gun rests against my temple. I can see Jimin from my angle, struggling with the same man from earlier.

“Kookie, please, you have to help Jimin,” Jungkook’s eyes meet me with a surprised look,” I’ll be okay, but you have to help Jimin, please.”

“I won’t let him take you,” Jungkook almost snarls, his knuckles white on the gun.

“I can’t let him hurt Jimin, please,” I can feel tears filling my eyes. Jungkook falters, but a pained sound behind him kicks him into gear. He lowers his gun and run at the man holding Jimin, practically throwing him off. We shuffle backward awkwardly, heading down the driveway toward the estate gates. Once we’re further away, my nails dig into his arm, causing him to flinch.

I sink my teeth into his arm, blood filling my mouth. My hand goes up to twist the gun away from my head, the heel of my foot slamming into his foot. I pull away from him, leveling the gun at him. He freezes. He’s never been much of a physical fighter, relying more on his gun. He doesn’t need to know that I don’t know how to shoot.

“Leave,” I snarl, a fierce glare on my face. He seems shocked, surprised by the look on my face.

“This is the only opportunity you’re going to get, Kitten. I will not be so nice next time,” He backs toward the van I can see just inside the gates.

“If you come here again, I will kill you,” I pull the trigger, the bullet hitting the dirt near him. Then he’s running, climbing into the van and the tires squealing as it drives away. Before it’s out of site, I see a pair of terrified eyes in the back window. A choked sound leaves me. Taehyung. They have Taehyung.

I drop the gun, my feet scrambling in the gravel to run after the van. I’m so stupid. I didn’t think that they would have someone in the van already, that I didn’t stop them. Arms close around me from behind, stopping me before I leave the gates. I scream, fighting against the body holding mine.

“We’ll get them. We’ll bring him home,” Jungkook’s voice is tired and sad in my ear. I slump into him, my whole body shaking with my sobs.

I don’t remember him carrying me back into the house and setting me on the couch. I just remember Jimin’s collapsed form on the floor, his whole body shaking. His best friend, his soulmate, taken. The two have always been close, the separation hitting him harder than anyone else. I don’t know when the interrogation started, when they started to question the ones who were left behind, including the man who forcibly marked me. A numbness has settled in. After a while, I blink, a dark shadow coming across me. I get up and walk to Jungkook, who sits outside of the theater room.

“I want to talk to him,” My voice is void of emotion. Jungkook looks down at me in shock.

“I don’t think-“ He starts but I quickly cut him off.

“I want to talk to him,” I repeat, my voice louder. His eyes meet mine for a moment, before he nods, moving out from in front of the door. I pause before I open it, listening in.

“You should have heard the way she cried after I bit her. The way she begged to die, and screamed,” The man inside boasts, obviously trying to get a rise out of the men inside. I can hear the growls from here. It’s obviously working.

I push the door open, silencing the men inside. I slam the door behind me, marching forward. Yoongi’s hand closes around my shoulder, stopping me. I shake him off, not acknowledging it.

“Baby, you shouldn’t be in here,” Namjoon is the first to speak, seeming to get over his shock first.

“Where is he?” My voice is dark and I can feel a snarl building in my chest,” Where did they take him.”

“Listen, if the panther doesn’t work, you think some pint sized cat will?” The man seems annoyed, even offended. I shove passed Yoongi, getting close to the man’s face.

“The only reason you’re still alive is because of me,” I grab a knife from a nearby table, slamming it into the arm of the chair near his fingers. I can see him flinch, though I miss his fingers and just slam it into the wood,” You think they’re the ones you have to worry about? If you don’t tell me where they took him, it’s me you need to deal with. Me that will hurt you. Me that will end your life.”

It feels weird, giving in to the anger. I’ve never been this angry in my life, yet so in control. I want to kill him, to put an end to his life, but we need him. I can hear Namjoon and Yoongi murmuring behind me, but I can’t focus on their words. My blood rushes in my ears, my hands shaking in rage. This is my fault and I will fix it.

“I’m not scared of you,” He sounds more confident than he’s acting.

“You should be,” My voice is a dark whisper. I lift the knife, tapping it against his chin. His lip quivers a little.

“Look, I don’t know which one they went to,” He starts but I quickly cut him off, the knife leveling with his nose. He swallows.

“Where are his hide outs? Why don’t you start there?” I can see him giving up, the fear becoming evident in his eyes.

“Fuck, fine, I’ll tell you. Just get this crazy bitch away from me,” He finally relents and I back up, dropping the knife on a nearby table. Yoongi hustles me out of the room as Namjoon writes down what the man says. Yoongi takes me to my room, making me sit on the bed and glaring at me.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice borders on a growl.

“He had information, I got it for you,” I shrug, not meeting his eyes. I can feel my anger deflating under his gaze.

“I know you’re worried about Tae. I am too. But you can’t act reckless. Reckless is stupid and it gets you hurt,” His gaze is intense.

“It’s my fault!” I feel like I’m finally exploding, everything bursting out of me,” They should have taken me! I’m the one they wanted! They tried to take Jimin! They did take Taehyung! I didn’t know they had him! I couldn’t do anything!”

“Kitten… It’s not your fault,” His words are soft as his arms wrap around me. My whole body shakes, but I try to push him away. He won’t let me,” You saved Jin. You saved Taehyung once, you saved Jimin twice. You did everything you could.”

“It’s not enough. They’re gonna hurt him. Oh god, what if-“ I choke, realizing all the things that they could do to him, all the things they did to me.

“Hey, hey, hey. Thinking about it will drive you crazy. We need to think about how we can get him back,” His lips whisper across my forehead,” Jimin needs you right now. I don’t think any of the rest of us can break him out of this break down right now.”

Once I’ve calmed down some, Yoongi brings me downstairs to Jimin. I crouch in front of him, running my fingers through his hair. He should blame me, should be mad at me, but he flings himself in my arms, sobs wracking his body. His sobs eventually turn into whimpers, his tears wetting the skin of my shoulder. I nuzzle his cheek, pressing little kisses to his face.

“Will he be okay?” Jimin’s voice I small, his eyes red and swollen.

“He will be,” It feels like a lie but Jimin doesn’t need the truth right now.

“We have a lead,” Hoseok’s voice comes from behind me, causing me to jump. I hadn’t seen him since breakfast this morning,” I know where they are.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

[themultifandomgal]

Tyler Hoechlin- Our Love

First Date

September 2010

6 months into filming the first season of Teen Wolf. Tyler asked me out on a date. I know I had a rule about not dating co-stars but Tyler is my type and on top of that is kind, caring and so funny how could I say no. This won't be the first time we've gone out to eat just the two of us, but this time we're calling a date which is kinda nerve racking

We arrive at a restaurant that I had never been to before and head in

"Hi we have a table booked for 2 at 7" I say to the waitress. She looks me up and down then looks at Tyler looking him up and down

"Name?" she says looking back at me

"YLN"

"Follow me" the waitress says. I glance at Tyler who looks nervous. We follow the waitress to our seats and sit down "here are your menus. What are you drinking?"

"I'll have a beer"

"And I'll just have a coke please" with that the woman walks off

"Well isn't she a ray of sunshine" Tyler says making me giggle

"Maybe she's had a long day and has had to deal with rude customers"

"Maybe" Tyler hums. We both look at the menus, I already know what I'm going to have since I have looked on their online menu.

When the waitress comes back I notice her shirt buttons are undone a little more than before, showing off her cleavage. I roll eyes a little

"What can I get you to eat?" the waitress smiles at Tyler holding her note pad

"I'll have herb roasted chicken" the woman then looks at me with a deadpan looks

"And you?"

"Can I get the creamy garlic chicken pasta" the waitress huffs and walks away muttering something to herself "I think she either knows who you are or you she finds you very attractive or both" I chuckle

"You jealous?" Tyler wiggles his eyebrows

"Definitely not. I have no reason to be. It's not like we're dating"

"But we are on a date"

"Yes, but how do we know that this will go any further?"

"Well I know I'd like more dates" Tyler gives me a small smile

"If your luckily" I smiles back.

40 minutes later our food arrives. The waitress continues to flirt with Tyler, but completely ignores me

“I think you were right about the waitress”

“Why?”

“She’s left her number on a napkin” he chuckles showing me

“You going to ring it?” I ask

“Not a chance” I don’t know why but this makes me feel really happy. I take a bite of my food and almost moan at how good the food is “I’m guessing that’s good?”

“Sorry, just barley eaten today and I don’t think I’ve ever had pasta this nice”

“Don’t apologise” Tyler shakes his head “just save room for dessert”

“Oh there’s always room for dessert” our waitress comes over with refills. She places Tyler’s down, but then ‘slips’ and my coke goes all down my WHITE summer dress

“Oh no, let me get you some napkins” the waitress says. You can hear the fakeness in her voice. She walks away, probably smirking

“Did she….?”

“Yeah” I sigh

“You want to head off?” Tyler asks

“Can we? Im going to get sticky and it’s gonna just stay damp” Tyler nods his head and without asking for the bill he puts down some notes. We get up and leave.

On the way home I notice that Tyler missed the turning for my apartment. Frowning I look at Tyler

“You missed the turning”

“I know, but we didn’t get to finish our date. We still need to have dessert. I’ve got brownies and ice cream. I’ll even warm the brownies up”

“Sounds wonderful, but my dress…”

“You can borrow some clothes don’t worry. I’m sure one of my shirts can look like a dress on you”

“Thanks”

We arrive at Tyler’s apartment while he’s filming for Teen Wolf. Walking through his apartment door wasn’t quite what I expected. I kinda thought his apartment would be a little messy, but it’s immaculate. It’s so bright at open as well, just looks so good

“I’ll grab you something to wear and then you can use the bathroom to get changed” I nod my head in response and watch Tyler walk into a room that I’m guessing is his bedroom. I look around noticing a photo of him with I’m guessing his family “I got you a shirt and some sweats that should fit if you turn the band down a few times

“Thank you” I smile taking the clothes from him

“I’ll get our dessert ready”

I head into the bathroom and change out of my wet clothes and put on Tyler’s. They smell of him…. oh shit this isn’t good.

[tinkerd]

NEW BOOK: 'The Dinosaur Next Door'

Hello my good friends

I just thought that you should know that I have a brand new book out called ‘The Dinosaur Next Door’. I wrote and drew it all by myself (well, also with some first class guidance from the ultra brilliant team at Magic Cat Publishing) and I’m pretty gosh darn proud of it.

I’m so chuffed with the feedback the book has received so far. Thanks to all my Instagram/Twitter/Facebook (etc) friends who have sent me messages and commented. It really does mean a lot to read these.

Also, this past weekend The Observer/Guardian Newspaper wrote this great piece about the book:

“Another author-illustrator bringing his A-game this autumn is David Litchfield, whose The Dinosaur Next Door (Magic Cat) brilliantly combines the joys of dinosaurs and cake. Pint-sized palaeontologist Liz is certain that her moustachioed neighbour and local star baker Mr Wilson is actually a brachiosaurus in disguise, so she consults a grownup expert on the matter, with unintended consequences. And while there may not be an ounce of biographical truth in this particular book, I promise you’ll be rooting for Mr Wilson all the same.”

Click HERE the full article.

Also, the brilliant Love Reading 4 Kids also wrote this about the book:

“Liz is convinced that her next-door neighbour Mr Wilson is a dinosaur. Maybe a brachiosaurus or a diplodocus? But no-one else seemed to notice, no-one else believed her. After all, they became extinct over 65 million years ago and she would know as she's a dinosaur expert.

This book will have dinosaur lovers everywhere living in hope that one day they'll find the Narnia-esque tunnel leading to another world where dinosaurs still roam. I for one, hope and believe in that sprinkle of magic!

But unfortunately one person did listen and Mr Wilson was whisked away, all in the name of science and Liz is heartbroken.

From the award-winning author of The Bear and the Piano and Kid Christmas this is a wonderful book, beautifully illustrated about acceptance and letting people live the lives they want to live. The community gets behind Liz's pleas and Mr Wilson is saved. Back to baking, cake decorating, cycling and living his best life.”

Click HERE for the full article.

So yes, thats all really lovely.

If you would like to get a copy for yourself or a loved one you can find it in all of the usual places online or from your local independent bookshop. It should also be available to borrow from the library.

Let me know what you think.

Happy reading all 🦕

David x

[waluigis-biggest-fan]

this might... keyword *might* make you feel a little better? while hard-core nerddom gets used as a punchline to a joke in media, there's lots of women that are interested in comics irl that down gravitate toward online spaces. My older sister had a comic book themed wedding and she and my brother-in-law collect their favorite runs together.

Hell, if you go on pinterest or etsy right now and type in comic book wedding, you'll see that a crap ton of people do them. now it's a double edged sword because sometimes it can make you feel more alone, but I do think knowing that people are happy that share your interests in a meaningful and emotionally resonante way might chase away some of the ennui and be a useful tool in pulling your brain out of self destructive cycles. Or at least that's helped me, so maybe it'll help you?

That really helps.

I know that there are women who like the stuff I do, I just have no idea how to find them.

Women tend to avoid online nerd spaces because a lot of weirdos get really possessive and desperate to get a girlfriend so I’m not likely to meet someone just by talking about nerd stuff, let alone how it’s really unlikely to find love digitally anyways. Not saying it’s impossible but it’s just really unlikely.

Im terrible at talking irl and girls don’t exactly advertise themselves as either romantically available or nerdy for the exact same reason.

Furthermore, those who share my couch potato nature likely don’t leave the house often.

I just don’t know how to find a partner in the first place and it feels like the only people who get into relationships where I live are conservative assholes. I live in America’s asscrack in that it’s barely registered besides when it’s useful and even my college isn’t a hotbed of socialist thinkers.

I guess the reason I struggle so much with romantic anxiety isn’t that I don’t think women who like the stuff I do exist, it’s that I feel like I’m never gonna meet one and that I’d be too weird and nervous if I did.

[astrologista]

been thinking a lot about online identities. 

it is interesting to me the level at which people will go to curate their online persona now-a-times. there’s a lot more focus on creating these vtuber/twitch “personas” with a 3d avatar that can emote, adding your own voice to the mix, and other things such as that. but at the same time there’s such an emphasis on doxxing, on the “face reveal”, on what someone looks like in real life. on real life identities, dramas, personal information being revealed, relationship and information on peoples’ partners, breakups, their family, real life friends, etc etc etc. it seems that kids are forming parasocial relationships with these youtubers and twitch personalities, thinking they are their personal close friends, donating actual money to these people, and then something gets dug up and the person is doxxed and cancelled. and then everybody takes their money and moves on to the next one.

back in my day, we usually identified ourselves with a simple online “handle” or URL and one 2d avatar and that was it. the focus was more on the content we were creating - writing, art. now it seems like the content that content creators make is more of an afterthought. i won’t say that let’s plays aren’t art, you have stuff like the dream smp which seems to have a bit of a lore and a story to it that makes it more than just watching some lads play minecraft, but at the same time... eh? maybe i’ve become too old. i don’t really get it.

as copyrights become more of a problem, people want to monetize their content. however, ip holders have a stranglehold on the internet. they don’t want anything monetized that doesn’t meet their “ethical and moral” standards which would damage their brand apparently if it came through that they were financially supporting something verboten. so in other words, it can’t be lgbt, you can’t swear, and it can’t be transformative in any way. only squeaky clean.

i have never and will never monetize my content because i write fic and a lot of the fic that i choose to write deals with heavy issues. so i’m out of this world of “content monetization”, i guess. what does it mean to become a brand? a persona? does this mean selling out? if chatgpt writes your copy and scripts and content, what does it mean? you’re an “online enterpreneur”? you’re an “influencer”? you’re a “disruptor”? you’re doing something significant? you’re improving peoples’ lives?

over time i truly start to hate this kind of landscape. i miss being surrounded by those who want to create for the sake of the process of creation. yes, i have this blog to shoot the shit, talk about my work, whatever, but creating this tumblr was never about “me” as a person. it was for me as a writer. of course this is a self indulgent place, for sure, but it was always about writing, from the very start. and i can’t seem to find as many people around who are interested in the same things. all they want to talk about is “monetization” and “content” and “personas“. i don’t know what that means. i’m not in that world. i’m not excited about ai writing things for me. overall, it’s not a good thing.

getting back to what i was saying re: doxxing and cancellation, i know that kids love this kind of schtick and if i were a teenager now, i’m sure i would be getting in on it too. it feels good to gang up against people when you’re a teen and i’m sure many of them think they’re doing the right thing within this culture but i still say things on the internet should be decoupled from real life hangups and drama and how people look in the meatspace. i don’t know it’s just silly. that being said, the kids are usually alright so i’m all for what teens think is the cool thing now as long as it’s positive. but i also think people should use their judgement and think independently more, not in a ben shapiro you-should-think-independently-by-buying-my-book type of way, but in a genuinely traditional you-should-look-at-different-sources-and-draw-your-own-conclusions-about-the-world type of way.

thems just my thoughts.

edit: also, this is dovetailing neatly with a very very disturbing general push in the zeitgest away from science and scientists (which is worse post-pandemic, dumbfucks saying the vaccine is poison etc) and into very very toxic anti-intellectualism which is leading some people back into religion fundamentalism. as someone who has experience with religious fundamentalists... this is not good juju

[aeori-o]

2022 Get Outta Here

Last year I started my post by talking about COVID-19 and it is wild that that thing is still around and people STILL aren’t taking it seriously. I guess if people start off not taking something seriously there’s no reason to then take something seriously later as it has become the dreaded “new normal.” Awful. I’m moving to Pluto.

Let’s talk about the usual stuff, as is tradition.

I know I have that graphic for goodreads (and I now have a secondary goodreads for graphic novels so there’s two now) but worth mentioning is I also have a storygraph account if any of you are on there! Please friend me or however that works.

So far storygraph has some issues (sometimes the website seems to crash and nothing loads or things I do don’t save to my profile) and it looks a little barren (though goodreads doesn’t exactly look good, either) but I really like that there’s the ability to see the community submitted content warnings and that a book is ranked not just by stars but by things like pace, focus, and vibe. Also it’s not owned by amazon (which goodreads is) so that’s a bonus. For now I have both accounts but hopefully storygraph keeps getting better and can eventually replace goodreads for me (I think the main things is adoption—I still like to see what friends and acquaintances are reading and if they’ve read what I’ve read so that’s currently missing for me and the other main thing is a “books by authors you’ve read” section, it is so handy to have that in one place).

I finished 37 novels and 10 graphic novels this year which brings me to 47 total books! I am much preferring 30 minutes of reading a day over an hour, it’s much easier to commit to and much less stressful and I still get a lot read in a year. It also feels really good to be able to fully fill out one of these calendars (I think I’ve managed it for the past few years) which is also nice. I know the calendar is totally arbitrary but there’s something nice feeling about having something that shows how much you’ve done at a glance.

As always I would really recommend doing this, but you can make your goal completely different (it could be ten minutes of reading a day, or a chapter a day, or a certain number of pages a day. Start with something where the bar is on the floor to make it easy to get into!). Doesn’t even need to be reading! Can be exercise or learning something or creative stuff! Sometimes calendars can be hard to find where they’re easy to fill in, I just started making my own in excel (google sheets would work, too) but I’ll put in a blank one at the end jic anyone wants to try. Gotta make the barrier to entry as low as possible! Anyway here’s my reading one:

And then of course I love the little year-recap from goodreads!

Really enjoy that I manage to read a very barely read book on goodreads every year.

Again we’re up! This year my average has gone from 4.1 to 4.2 but still. I think overall I am reading better books. I’ve changed how I rate books on goodreads a little as well. I am in an eternal struggle with how ultimately meaningless rating systems are so I’m trying to rate things more on a scale of if-I-would-recommend-it and how many caveats I have with that. So more books wind up five stars than not. It feels much easier to rate things consistently, as well.

My own personal rating system (in my excel doc) tends to differ a little from how I rate things online (so despite rating Many books five stars this year only one book hit my favourites and most of those other five stars are in my ‘Excellent’, ‘Splendid’, and ‘Good’ categories. And then I have ‘Meh’, ‘Not Worth Reading’, and ‘Why does this exist?’). That’s just for me, and maybe friends, though.

So! Of the 37 books I read this year I’m going to once again recommend a few.

The Green Bone Saga by Fonda Lee

I recommended the first book last year and now that I’ve read the rest of the series I want to reinforce the recommendation: These books are thick, they’re door stoppers, and the first book is a little slow to start but once they get going they are phenomenal. Everything just goes, there are incredible high points in this series. I didn’t think the second book could be outdone but the third book did it. The series goes from conflicts inside a community to global conflicts that that community has to deal with and manipulate.

Basically: The series is about a family of ‘Green Bones’ (who are people who are able to control bioenergetic jade to enhance their strength, resilience, and speed) and how they deal with a territory war with another Green Bone Clan and eventually how they deal with foreign powers trying to extract and study bioenergetic jade for war purposes. Really great series.

Mistakes Were Made (But not by me)

by Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson

This one is non-fiction but I found it incredibly interesting. Most of it I feel is things most of us kind of intuitively know just by existing in the world and dealing with people being infuriating (especially in the context of jobs and managers passing the blame) but it’s interesting seeing the research and the various ways it comes into play. I’m not sure if I’m weird but I also found it a very fast, easy read as well? It was just too interesting for me to find boring. So if you’re looking for an interesting non-fiction check it out!

Even Though I Knew The End by C.L. Polk

This is a novella so I can’t say too much without spoiling a lot but if you’re looking for a lesbian noir with magic, demons, and angels then definitely check this one out. The ending is maybe a little rushed but I loved the setting and the characters despite the very short amount of time with them (the curse of novellas).

The Daevabad Trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty

I didn’t actually like the first book at all! There were a lot of things in the first book that bugged me but I felt compelled to read the second anyway. I saw this book all over the place (and heard about it all over the place) and I have a thing for seeing djinn in books and media. Despite my issues there were nuggets of potential in the first book. And then the second book was shockingly good and I devoured the rest. A very fun fantasy romp about family and duty and the things we choose and how hard and disastrous it can be to try and do your own thing.

I especially liked the fourth book though which is a collection of short little scenes with various characters. They weren’t short-stories exactly they were just things that either didn’t fit in the main series or ultimately no longer belonged in it with how things went but I really enjoyed reading it. It felt very nostalgic and I wish more authors would do something similar. I don’t necessarily want plots and entire side stories to see more of characters sometimes I just want to see little things with the characters. I know that’s what a lot of people use fanfiction for but I’d love it from the original author. Really delighted by these and I’m really glad the publisher went for it! This kind of thing could easily have never seen the light of day or, best case in most instances, been relegated to some dusty page on the author’s website.

A lot of the other books I would recommend are parts of a series so I won’t get into them now, but I’m keeping an eye on Iron Widow, Children of Ragnarok, Book of Night, and Not Even Bones. Most of those don’t have sequels out yet, but one of them does so hopefully I can recommend it on next year’s round up.

Additionally some friends and I pass around books and write in them, and so far our library has six books in it! (There’s more on stand-by but they haven’t been written in yet.) It’s such a fun thing to do and makes some truly terrible books fun to read. One of the series we’re reading we’re hoping gets better (as promised by the fans of that series) and we might be adding the series that inspired that series to the list. (I am being intentionally vague.)

Once again I’m going to keep my goal at 30 books, half an hour of reading a day (catch up days allowed). I have enjoyed being much more relaxed about reading.  Unlike last year I currently only have four books out from the library (instead of last year’s thirteen) but that said I think all the books I read last year (including the graphic novels) except for four were from the library. So out of 47 books (total) 43 were from the library. I love the library, but I also need to get a proper start on my owned to-be-read pile. Once I’m through these four books I’m going to try to only take out a library book for every owned book I finish. So hopefully I can at least make it half and half.

But! Here’s the ten graphic novels I read! One of which I own. I really enjoyed all of them and can happily recommend them all. Lore Olympus I finished the second volume and for whatever reason was just hooked and binged the rest online. Heartstopper is also really cute and sweet, I tried a little bit of the show and it wasn’t doing it for me but I am so, so happy it exists I’ve seen that it means a lot to a lot of people (but I’ll stick with the graphic novels).

Film and TV I finished 45 things this year, which so far it seems like I watch a fairly consistent amount of stuff? 2020 my count was 43, last year was 41, this year is 45! Funny how that works out. Some of my highlights from this year are old goodies—we just recently watched the first two Lord of the Rings films (we were trying to marathon but it did not work out), and I re-watch Ghibli films periodically, but of the things I had never watched before? Everything in the image really stands out for me.

Love and Leashes was just incredibly cute, another delightful Korean film. I forgot I had watched that this year so I’m glad I’ve started tracking this stuff because this movie is just really cute. It’s on Netflix and I would wholeheartedly recommend checking it out!

Turning Red made me cry, and then when I walked in on family watching it I almost just cried again just knowing what scene they were on (they did not feel very invested in the movie so it was kind of awkward).

Everything Everywhere All At Once was incredible. I know everyone is saying that and has been saying that but if for whatever reason you haven’t watched it it is really good. It feels really ‘fresh’ in a way? It’s unhinged but also sincere, I really liked it.

Severance was really creepy and tense, and yet somehow very compelling despite the monotony of the environments the characters spend most of their time in. I’m so curious to see where it goes it ended on such a tense note.

Our Flag Means Death was a really heartwarming romp, I think the first few episodes I wasn’t crazy about but it got very good very fast and it also had a very tense ending.

Nope I watched twice back to back (and then a third time some months later to show family). It’s such a fun movie and there’s a lot to interpret and talk about in it, I think this is my favourite Jordan Peele movie yet.

And finally: House of the Dragon though this one is on thin ice. There’s a lot of weird and uncomfortable things in this series, which I guess is to be expected, but overall I found it really interesting and that last episode, hoo boy. I want to see it develop and I am hoping it does not go the way of Game of Thrones but I guess we’ll see.

Video games!

Okay so Nintendo sent me my yearly recap weirdly early this year? And then Steam just sent one. The steam one is very fun.

Unfortunately the Nintendo one this year didn’t have that much info? Last year it gave total games, for how many hours, and even compared the previous year and because the switch doesn’t have the built-in tracker anymore (like the 3DS has) I can’t even check myself. Like I know I played my Switch for at least 130hrs this year in total (compared to 23 total hours last year) but that’s just looking at the games I know came out this year so I could have only played this year (being Arceus, Scarlet, and Splatoon 3) but for games I’ve played in the past like Shield, Pokemon Snap, Okami, Smash Bros, etc. I only can see total time, not time spent this year. I still really miss the tracking the 3DS has. Oh well at least Steam has an in-depth one this year:

I love to see random little facts!! I’m surprised I hit even 20% with controller to be honest, I feel like I almost exclusively used keyboard and mouse this year.

As you can see: I love to play new games.

AND THIS is the kind of thing I like to see! I think that drop of in gaming is more or less universal across all platforms for me.

Okay so here’s everything I started this year and have yet to finish:

And I actually am feeling very optimistic about finishing all of these! Two (Haunting Ground and Fahrenheit Indigo Prophecy) I’m playing for friends and both have been very fun to stream. One is a genuinely good game and one is Fahrenheit Indigo Prophecy (which is very fun to experience with friends but oh it’s not good, it is especially bad on PC because this “remaster” is garbage. I said RE4 on PC last year was bad but it’s an amazing port compared to this one.)

Haunting Ground is still a really delightful game. It makes me miss the days of costumes being fun unlockable bonuses instead of DLC. I’m mostly impressed (so far) by how good the game is at making sure you always know where to go despite how otherwise cryptic the plot is. The only time I’ve gotten lost/stuck was when I unlocked the room, ran into the stalker immediately in that room and ran, and then I guess I got startled so badly that the newly unlocked room just deleted itself from my short term memory. So that’s on me, not the game.

Pokemon Scarlet I’m chugging along steadily in (despite my many, many problems with the game) and Pokemon Legends Arceus I was thoroughly enjoying but the controls were too similar to Horizon Forbidden West so I’ll get back to it once I’m done Horizon. But hoo boy Horizon is taking a while. I know there’s a large group of people who want more game-play-time for their dollar and I largely disagree with that idea in general but this game is wild in that I am enjoying all the time I’m spending in it but also kind of exhausted by how huge it is.

The only one here I might not finish anytime soon is .hack, because I started playing it with Vin and would like to continue showing them it.

I think of all the games in my Unfinished Picture from last year the only one I actually finished was Tell Me Why—Dishonored I still kind of pick at, Pokemon Snap I haven’t gotten back to despite meaning to, Resident Evil Village I want to continue but haven’t gotten to either, same goes for Resident Evil 5. And Prey I officially decided I was done with. So I’m much more optimistic about finishing this year’s batch of unfinished games.

And with Hades 2 being announced I extra want to get back to and finish the first Hades (I got to the credits but I need to do everything).

And then the games I DID finish this year:

All but one of these I played for/with friends! (Steph did most of the playing of Fatal Frame 3, though.) I finished up Tell Me Why on my own but all the rest were friend-experiences! Disco Elysium is unhinged (we would all lay down our lives for Kim). Lighthouse I have thought was “the dark beginning” forever and only right at the end of our play-through did I realize it was “being” not “beginning” and it was also entirely wild. Fatty Bear’s Birthday Surprise was charming and also kind of a lot. And then Pajama Sam in No Need to Hide when it’s Dark Outside was surprisingly well-written and charming? The last two games took almost no time to play all the way through (despite them being huge time sinks when I was a kid) but they hold up really well! Very intuitive, simple puzzles (which makes sense for a kid’s game but is still fluid-feeling as an adult as opposed to escape-room-esq logic puzzles ‘adult’ puzzle games require) and very fun writing that actually got some laughs out of us at points. Good stuff, we’re excited to play more from Humongous Entertainment.

I did start another fill-in-the-squares calendar in June. It mostly came from days feeling like they blur together and I couldn’t really remember what I had done on certain days and wasn’t sure if I had done anything “productive”. I’m really good at warping my own memory to downgrade the things I do so I tried to start marking off when I did anything, at all, that I consider some sort of productive. So that could be cleaning, writing, helping my sister with something, or one of the various little side-projects I take on. I haven’t been super consistent with it, I keep forgetting to fill in days, but overall it has been really helpful for even if I don’t remember what I did I can look back and see all the filled in squares and be sure I did at least something that I consider worthwhile. I just keep a little list under it of kind of ‘ongoing’ things that count or add on things that I finished and that has, in turn, made it easier to remember some neat stuff I did this year!

There’s two major ones but first: I really got into re-shelling controllers last year. Unfortunately I’ve kind of run out of controllers to re-shell. I did get to take apart a friend’s joycon recently to put in a new analogue stick to stop that pesky drift but otherwise I don’t do much shell-stuff these days.

But I did wrap my entire car.

Before and after! Steph helped me with the hardest parts (the bumpers and roof) and my stepmom helped with some bits (which, despite our struggles, she says she’s glad she did because she never would have understood how much work I was putting in otherwise) and my partner helped a little with the doors when they were visiting! I’m especially happy with the headlights. I ground all the UV damaged plastic off, polished them up, and then put a clear, glossy, paint-protective film over top. They look brand-new! I love seeing side-by-sides of the lenses before and after. I used to think the ‘before’ state of the lenses looked good! Wild! Some people have lamented the colour (a lot of people really like bright red cars?) but I love the blue/purple colour shift and my clear-coat was coming off anyway (she’s an old car) so I had to do something to protect it. Bless and curse the co-worker who talked me into this (bless because I love it, curse because it was hard as hell).

I haven’t posted progress shots in one big block anywhere so I’m gonna do that here! And then I realized there were just WAY too many progress shots so here’s just a few:

I mostly like the super wrinkly shots and then seeing it all smoothed out, it’s so satisfying (the work in between those shots is brutal) like these (with a mid-lens-fixing thrown in to see a polished one next to what I had before for funsies):

It was so satisfying to have this come together and I am so happy with how she looks. I am extremely grateful to everyone who helped me along the way, some pieces would have been impossible with just one person (and in the case of the roof that seemed impossible even with two people). Considering it was my first time doing this and I was working in less-than-ideal circumstances (being: outside, where bugs and dust and leaves and weather are an issue) I think it turned out extremely well.

I think when I counted the actual total days this took it was like 11-14? I had work, and then we kept getting rain (the day we did the front bumper it actually rained in the middle of the day so in retrospect I’m amazed that one came together). I also did a little on some other cars. My stepmom’s car is also old so we did some protective stuff where the paint was having a hard time, did the hood of my sister’s car and her lenses as a birthday gift, and then did a co-workers car because its clear coat was having a really rough time. Lots of wrapping! I should redo this one in 4ish years (or that’s what the vinyl manufacturers say, anyway) so we’ll see how it goes.

I also made my dice displays nice this year. At some point I had gotten a shot-glass display to put my dice in, but it wasn’t the nicest looking. Better than having them not on display at all but not by much. For whatever reason I can’t find a proper picture of how it looked before but:

And then once the glass was closed on top of that the ones in their cubes were pretty obscured and the other dice just, didn’t look great in their heaps. So I got some foam core, some washi tape, and a box cutter and spruced it up:

Which I am super happy with! I was so happy with it I got a second one and fitted it the same way. It’s especially nice for my glow in the dark dice, I get to see them glow every time I turn the lights off now.It was a very time consuming little project but I’m really happy (and kind of amazed) at how it came together!

In terms of my more regular creative pursuits I didn’t really write anything creative except to completely re-structure a book series I was reading. It went from me ranting to just completely unhinged going IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE THIS and then I rewrote a scene from the book based on that premise. That was fun. I still need to touch that up and edit it some but then I fully intend to rip the book open and rebind it with my addition. (It’s one of our pass-around-and-comment-in books.) Still RPing, of course, and it’s a mix of god/furry Anir and Lelia with some modern Lelia and my spirit-folk thrown into the mix. And I didn’t really do much drawing this year but I did do a little to help my sister with some stuff. And that’s better than nothing! I will post none of that here, though.

Once again, though, I have been extremely blessed to receive some wonderful art!

Art by @monsterranchersteph​,@phantomeus​, and @auyamx!

Hopefully 2023 proves to be better than 2022! I’m ending the year with a cold (not COVID, luckily, though I did have that during the summer and it was awful. I can only imagine how much worse it would’ve been if I weren’t vaccinated.) which I’m not sure is a great summary of the year but it’s unusual for me to get sick twice in one year. Having just a regular cold is surreal, though, the last two times I got sick (COVID and then some sort of flu) were both completely terrible, so having just kind of a stuffed up and runny nose, a teeny cough (like, barely), and then just extreme fatigue is more of an annoyance than anything. I am very glad to not be that sick but I also forgot very mild sickness is a thing. (And it’s annoying.)

Anyway, as stated above I’m going to keep my reading goal the same this year as last. 30 books, half an hour reading a day with catch-ups allowed. I’m going to try to get into the habit more of using my other general ‘productivity’ calendar because I have been finding that helpful for my mental health if nothing else. And if anyone else wants to try these calendars here’s the one I’ll be using:

And I think that’s it! Happy new year! If you make any sort of yearly round-up or recap and you’ve made it this far please let me know and I’ll check it out! I am not consistently on tumblr so I miss stuff all the time. I log on, I sigh and block/report the bots that have followed me, I see a little of my dash, I add stuff to my queue, and that’s about it. So please let me know or link me!

[angeltreasure]

First of all, I want to say thank you for your post and taking the time to respond in that way. I appreciate it so much! 🥺

It is definitely one of those things that I often do feel peace about and I don’t really care in all honesty but then people like the ones making those comments come up and it hits me like bricks and I feel sick because, even though I’m going to God and not people it can feel like they just have this superior complex that makes it hard to even feel welcome in a church or Christian type setting :(

Your post really did make me feel so much more at peace though and the other anon saying about their tattoos is something that I have felt and I’m in the process of getting one removed which is almost gone but the other I want gone will cost quite a bit of money so it’s like ugh, I guess I just didn’t want to feel like I needed this immediately gone in order to live a full Christian life if you get me? 😅 and like I say, it’s so frustrating because realistically I know so many Christian’s in my life w tattoos and that God sees the heart anyway and he is amazing but it’s crazy how having people online chalk like that can cause such pain 🙈

You’re welcome!!

As Christians, we have a special way of dealing with pain. It may sound a little confusing if you never heard it before, but we Christians can unite any pain and suffering we have to Jesus on the cross. That means, for example, you can offer up the pain as prayer to God, from the pains of tattoo removal to the persecution of people talking about you online. No prayer goes to waste. When we unite our pain to Jesus on the cross, we may not be able to see the blessing it brings in this life but when we pass to the afterlife God will reveal how He turned our prayer to help you or someone that needed it most. Don’t let the voices of others get you down.

I think you absolutely don’t need any tattoo immediately gone before getting Baptized. Don’t feel pressured at all. In fact, you could even use it as part of your story to others. ‘Once I was one way, and here was the tattoos I had back then but now I am different because I am saved/I will be saved soon. This is what these tattoos mean…’. Maybe you could help others who are in your shoes feel more comfortable to find God or return to Him. It is true that He alone knows your heart.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you. - Psalm 139:13-17

[starlooove]

Ok so like my issue is that I have so many AUs revolving my oc that I can’t give a set story or even anything definitive abt how they fit into the timeline so imma just give interesting factoids or whatever;

-batcat kid but specifically an Afro Cuban Selina so the kids afro cuban

-I can’t decide on a gender BUT for names I’m thinking Simón (like See-Mon) but I change my mind by the hour so

-I think their specialty would be stealth and info gathering on a street level as opposed to online. Like I think they’d have the hiding in plain sight thing totally down and they don’t do stakeouts cause they can literally sneak in anywhere when they feel like it.

-Very sticky fingers. Doesn’t even meant to steal shit sometimes and will even return things to their siblings after they notice. Damian goes through an existential crisis when they return a whole fucking sword he didn’t notice was missing.

-Has abandonment issues in the: I’ll screw u over before u screw me over kinda way, and a tendency to run from consequences. Big moment for them is doing smth wrong and instead of hiding or flat out leaving till it’s forgotten, they decide to just stay and take whatever happens. (Whatever they did doesn’t have to be a big deal, maybe like a knocked over vase or whatever; but it’s a big moment in the sense that they feel so secure in not just their place in the fam but the fact that the fam loves them that they can get grounded and be fine or whatever.)

-split up from Selina a lot when it came to escaping or just general wandering for awhile but they always made their way back to eachother. The kind of ppl that can go months without speaking and be completely fine when they come back (tho they absolutely prefer not to and make it a point to see eachother at least thrice a week when the kid gets older)

-Selina’s vv protective of the kid but also doesn’t want them to grow up spoiled and with the ability to survive if smth ever happened to her. She feels like a shitty parent sometimes bc her kid doesn’t seem socially ready for so many things but she can’t help but feel a surge of pride or vindication whenever her kid comes out stronger after something tough. It makes everything worth it when her kid can babble about how they fought off some thug, even if her heart aches as she’s bandaging their bruised knuckles.

-Twin whips. This is me projecting a bit (finding out ppl don’t generally use two nunchucks on the regular after tmnt 2012 fucked me up) but they don’t feel comfortable if they’re not dual wielding. They can’t use one pistol, it’s gotta be two. It just makes them feel unbalanced and unprotected so they follow in their moms footsteps but yknow they had to double it

-big ole eyes. Slightly unsettling. They’re green and if you look at them too fast you could swear their pupils look like slits at times…

-causes problems on purpose and is genuinely surprised by the consequences

-if they ever got caught and genuinely couldn’t escape, Selina would step in but if she thought they could make it out on their own she’d leave some kind of sign or clue as to how to go about it. She’s so proud when they don’t take her cue and escape on their own for the first time.

-is very used to going unnoticed so ppl who are extremely perceptive or pay too much attention to them freaks them out and it makes them kinda defensive. Someone asking about their day will feel like an attempt at getting them to admit to smth and they’ll respond as such.

-don’t know whether to make them younger than Damian or his age for the sheer comedy but either way they get along with him and Duke the most

-starts picking up the caveman grunts from Bruce and everyone is trying to get them out of it. “Let’s use our word sugarplum :)” “Hn.”

-toxic trait is they expect everyone to know what they’re feeling despite looking like they were etched from fucking marble all the time. They genuinely think they’re an open book and don’t understand why Tim doesn’t get that they don’t ACTUALLY hate him they just said that in a fit of rage and it doesn’t matter anymore because it’s over with.

-very go with the flow kinda person tho. “This might as well happen” personified

-smoothtalker to the max, can lie like a fucking rug. Considering their actual blunt kinda awkward personality, watching them lie so smoothly is almost as jarring as watching Batman become brucie wayne.

-if someone talks shit Abt Bruce it’s whatever and same for most of their siblings but they’ll step for Selina and Jason 😭 (spreading my close Selina and Jason agenda btw)

-tells Jason that if he doesn’t take them on a joyride around Gotham, they’ll let themselves get caught in Bristol and tell Selina that he wasn’t watching their back. They get batburger on the way back

-is very black and white at times and they know that ppl CAN change but they’re also not very forgiving. “Fool me once and fuck you I can’t wait to dance on your fucking Grave” kinda thing.

-big moment is them telling Damian or smth “I don’t wanna be mad at you anymore” and forgiving them for smth big. Smth Abt love being worth heartache and smth Abt how ppl can hurt you w/o meaning too but that doesn’t mean they love u any less or whatever.

-that’s kinda all I got

-OH! They’re darkskinned btw. None of that light caramel macchiato swirl yall always do to mixed kids. I’m thinking Eartha Kitt or Harley Quinn show Selina so they’d be somewhere in there with dark hair. They get strong brows from Bruce (I’m thinking duckytrees drawings of him) and the way they emote is all him.