#mobile car tuning

[semitruckmechanicfl]

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[zeroloop]

Illumina il tuo spazio con la Striscia LED Flessibile Programmabile

XAXVSTS Insegna Luminoso LED Flessibile Programmabile | 45 X 12 cm | LED Display Personalizzabile USB 5V Auto Camion | Controllo via App Bluetooth e Telecomando per Negozio e Pubblicità Se stai cercando di dare un tocco luminoso e personalizzato al tuo ambiente, la striscia LED flessibile programmabile potrebbe essere la soluzione che fa al caso tuo. In questa recensione, esploreremo le…

[mxtantrights]

Jason finding out his so is pregnant with twins? 🤔

probably really shocked. like big shock. didn't think that when the two of you were trying that this could happen. well, the chances aren't zero but it is low. low enough that it didn't even register that it could happen.

after the initial shock wears off Jason is probably trying to figure out how he's going to raise two kids with you. thinking about raising one was a total mind wreck, but this? This is going to take some planning. fine tuned planning.

Jason was already going to read all the pregnancy books but now he's reading double the amount. there are more ifs and maybes now that it's twins.

this also means that Jason has to make some investments. like two car seats. two car strollers. an actually car and not a motorcycle. (somehow the bat mobile is able to fit two car seats, don't ask how he finds this out)

doesn't want to know the genders. oh Jason is totally the type to want it to be a surprise. he wants to find out when you give birth. not at a baby shower and not in a doctors office.

probably stares at amazement at you all the time. not only are you carrying one life, you're carrying two.

satisfies all of your cravings. peanut butter and pickles? ice cream and French fries? done. foot massages, shoulder massages, soothing sounds to fall asleep to.

he also lets you sleep closest to the door for the nine months only because he knows you'll have to use the bathroom and it's easier and quicker for you to be near the door. but as soon as you've birthed the twins he's right back to sleeping closest to the door.

takes Polaroid pictures of you doing mundane things. says it's for the photo album that Alfred is putting together. (one day you ask Alfred about said photo album and he doesn't have any idea what you're talking about.)

Jason wants to name one of them, and he wants you to name the other. and he won't tell you the name ideas he has/won't listen to you if you try to tell him yours. likes surprises in this instance only!!

Jason probably has to be talked down from painting the room some ugly color. he wants to be inclusive but throw-up yellow is not it!

his siblings take care of a lot of things for him without him having to ask. suddenly the corners and sockets in the house are baby proofed. six month supply of diapers. wholesale club membership card in your name approved.

day of the birth Jason is calm on the outside but freaking out on the inside. he won't show it because you're already going through so much. (you find out about halfway through and ask him to freak out without)

you're in labor for twelve hours. Jason is there for all of it. he doesn't leave your side. the siblings become your henchmen. you need ice chips? Damian's got it. You need a nurse? Cass and Duke have your back. Need to watch better channels on the hospital tv? Tim is your guy.

Bruce talks to Jason while they both stare at your twins through the glass window of the nursery. Bruce doesn't have to say much, he knows Jason will be a good dad. And Jason likens Bruce's belief in him to his childhood with Bruce. Yes it wasn't normal but it was a childhood he'll never forget.

Jason carries both babies in his arms for the firs time and cries. Like silent tears rolling down his cheeks. You start crying too.

Jason's name for baby #1: Cassie

Your name for baby #2: Peter

a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!! THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN ANON <33333 didn't know how much I needed Jason to be a dad until I did this. you're a rockstar!!

[viridwns]

Can I get a fic about kidnapped reader and yandere Chrollo on a road trip of some kind and she’s like “let me get the aux” because let’s face it Chrollo’s taste in music is not gonna be road trip friendly and she’s just like jamming out to like Sexxy Red and Doja Cat and Flo Rida? Like I feel like that’s the complete opposite type of music he would listen to and she’s over there having a whole concert

Yan!Chrollo lucilfer x reader

Warning(s): mild cussing, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, one sentence is about implied dubcon

A/N: Quick drabble to try and get out of my writing slump. Too lazy to check for errors, sorry pookies.

WC: I honestly dk, I wrote this on my mobile😭

Antithetical

You loathed car rides with Chrollo. His 'work' forced him to travel a lot, meaning road trips that would usually exceed six hours with no rest stops or pee breaks to avoid being spotted by the wrong people.

Only if you were bursting—on the verge of kidney poisoning—would Chrollo force you to do your business in some random bushes alongside the road.

The close proximity of the metal box had you pushing yourself as far as you could against the door—enjoying the cool steel against your boiling skin.

It was well into summer, and even though you only wore a loose T-shirt from Chrollo and way too large gym shorts, your body didn't seem to regulate the heat.

Chrollo, the non-human that he is, didn't seem bothered by the blazing sun in the slightest. Wearing a white shirt neatly tucked into black, wide-legged trousers secured by a just as dark belt.

You could not spot one drop of sweat on his sickly pale skin.

The AC of the car was blasting in your face, helping a great deal to chase away the uncomfortable warmth. The noise it made was loud, but still not loud enough to overpower the radio.

Chrollo was a control freak through in through. You were used to it by now, but you hadn't expected it to extend all the way to what music was playing in the car.

Car rides with Chrollo were already unbearable. He was a macho driver, thinking you would fall head over heels if he parked with one hand, but even though he tried to look tough, he drove like a grandma—he didn't want any attention, getting pulled over or driving too noticeable could mess up his plans. He also had the need to have one hand rest on your thigh for the whole entirety of the ride, be it five minutes or fifteen hours. He loved prodding at your mind in these long hours; asking you deep and personal questions that would have you reeling by the end of the drive.

But the one thing that icked you the most was his taste in music.

These rides could be long—this one a nice thirteen hours from the last place he kept you—and sleeping could only cover half, if not less. You needed a distraction from the man next to you and his tongue; blasting some good tunes for example.

Für Elise wasn't one of those tunes.

Chrollo had a thing for classical music; befitting his dark academia style as he also loved to read older literature and collect antiques.

And you didn't mind it most of the time—you had to admit that some songs were enjoyable to listen to.

But not for thirteen hours on end.

With one-fourth of the journey done, no desire to sleep, and Chrollo humming along to his playlist, you finally had enough.

"Chrollo, can I have the aux?" You asked, head slightly turning to look at the raven haired man while still holding your place in front of the AC.

You had asked Chrollo this question multiple times, but he always found a way to go around it.

Chrollo squeezed your thigh, making you press yourself further against the door.

His eyes remained focused on the road, but his grin was a tell-tale sign that this was going to be a mind war again.

"And why do you want that?" He replied, turning the radio down a tat to hear you better.

You sighed.

"Because we've been listening to your music since the beginning of the trip." You sat up straight when Chrollo started nodding along with your words.

"Okay, but this music is relaxing. It doesn't distract me from the traffic around me. You don't want us to end up in an accident, no?" He said, sparing you a quick glance.

You pursed your lips.

It was hard to pinpoint where he used manipulation tactics exactly in your conversations.

You were able to pick it up rather quickly now, though.

You turned to him, lips in a thin line.

"Chrollo, this is torturing my ears." You pointed at the radio to emphasize your meaning.

He laughed.

"Don't be dramatic."

"Says you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused"

You gave him a sharp glare as he lightly rolled his eyes.

You had to give him a challenge of sorts. You knew he liked the thrill of those—the need to prove that he is capable of overcoming anything in his way.

"You're so dramatic about other people's music tastes. You hate listening to anything other than your own playlist. You don't even know other music genres," you started, crossing your arms over your chest and slumping in the passenger's seat.

As you were about to speak again, Chrollo interjected.

"Rock, Indie, metal, pop, electronic, blues, jazz—should I continue?"

He smiled as he faced you for a second before looking at the road again.

"Nice try, love, but implying that I don't know something is a dead give away of your schemes." Chrollo mused, patting your thigh.

He was mocking you, he saw right through your plan. You were stupid to think you could outwit him.

One day though.

One day you will.

You grumbled before slumping back in your seat, craning your neck to meet the frigid wind of the airconditioner.

The car was silent now except for the violins harmonizing on the radio. You were mere seconds away from taking the wheel and crashing the vehicle just for a few seconds of peace.

Chrollo sighed. You perked up at this. He wasn't too keen on already having you on edge this early in the trip. Every time that happened, you two would fight every day because you were petty like that.

He hands you his phone. You slowly take it with a quirked brow as your straighten your back.

"Fine, go ahead then."

You peer at him, suspicion running high.

"This isn't a trick?"

"No."

"I'm not getting in trouble if I change the music?"

"No."

"I don't have to give you a blow job while you're driving if I do this?"

"If you insist—"

You push the phone his way. Chrollo laughs before throwing you a wink. He nudges the device back with his shoulder.

"There are no catches here. I swear. Play your music."

You throw him uncertain glances as you open the music app; one of the only apps it had. He had bought this phone with you in mind. Shalnark modified it, so only Chrollo's number was on it, and no other numbers could be dialed. It also contained a few games. Like uno, you played that online with a few of the other phantom members. It kept you sane when you were locked in and alone for days on end.

You scrolled through your playlists, Chrollo only had one, and that was the 'liked songs' album.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you clicked your 'God better not see this one' list.

You could only feel a little victorious as you watched Chrollo's face sour when boss bitch by Doja Cat blasts from the radio.

You scream the lyrics in his face as you start moving your arms with the rhythm of the music.

It felt so good to just jam out to your songs for once. You ignored the pointed look of Chrollo when the next number that came on was CPR by CupcakKe.

A twinge of happiness tugged at your heart as you realized Chrollo would suffer a hundred times more in these few hours than you did and probably will do in all the carrides that have and will happen.

At least that was what you thought, but as you were about to bellow 'I save dick by giving it CPR' in your kidnapper's ear, he was looking at you with this love sick expression.

Eyes twinkly, stupidly handsome smile on his face and a total lack of concentration of his surroundings.

You felt your stomach lurch, and without a second thought, you put on the four seasons by vivaldi; almost breaking the screen in process.

You dropped the phone on your lap and crossed your arms. Your good mood only lasted three seconds before Chrollo decided to throw acid over it.

He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before returning his eyes to the road.

You felt stupid for buying his lies once again.

"You planned that, didn't you." It was more a statement than a question that came out of your mouth as you pushed your back against the cardoor.

Chrollo hummed as his hand found your thigh again, continuing his finger tapping along with the music.

You huff.

That was all you could do in response to him.

One thing was for certain: you would never play your music again, even if Chrollo begged you to.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

I think I posted this before, but that was no doubt 4,000 posts ago. So here you go again.

It might be hard to believe but the car used at the beginning of 'The Pink Panther Show' cartoon series was actually the real thing. If you cast your mind back, the sequence involved the car pulling up at Grauman's Chinese Theatre in and the film then cuts to the animated scenes.

The car was built in 1969 and was based on an Oldsmobile Toronado complete with 7 litre engine. It was pink of course with pink furry interior which also contained a bar and a mobile phone.

I'm pretty certain the Pink Panther wasn't real though. Award yourself 5 bonus points if you can still hum the theme tune.

[cal-flakes]

reader organising a wholesome date for her and dealer rafe (and hiding his phone) because she wants him to have one evening where he’s not stressing about shipments or supply - so she wears his favourite dress and takes him to watch the stars and sunset

╰┈➤ dancing under the stars

warnings: light swearing, mostly fluff.

summary: y/n forces rafe to drop his busy schedule for one night.

she chuckled to herself as she clipped her earrings in, listening silent to rafe’s anxious footsteps scurrying about the house.

y/n timed his arrival perfectly, making sure to be just about ready once he walked through the door, then slipping in and out of the kitchen while he was distracted, pocketing his phone.

adjusting her jewellery one last time, she exited the bathroom, her sandals clicking against the floor as she headed downstairs, anticipating a confrontation.

just as she thought, rafe shifted nervously in the door way, his eyes flirting around the room. “angel have you seen my phone?” he questioned, exhaling in frustration.

his eyes narrowed as she giggled, watching her manicured hand dip into her bag, pulling out his mobile phone. “baby, why do you have my phone?” he asked again, stepping closer to reach for it. before he could grasp it, she quickly dropped it back into her bag.

“because, you’re so busy all the time! so i’ve planned a whole night together, and the rule is that you’re not allowed to stress over anything business related” she exclaimed, summing him to follow her as she opened the front door, exiting into the summer breeze.

“you know i can’t do that baby, i can’t miss any shipments..” he sighed, following after her quickly. “and that’s why…” she sang, quickly unlocking the car. “barry’s going to be looking after shit tonight, m’kay? look, i’ve already spoken to him about it, he’s gonna take care of it” she groaned, attempting to reassuring him as she lured him closer to the car.

huffing, he glanced at her for a second, almost immediately finding comfort in her eyes, at least enough to convince him to get his ass in the car.

sliding into the passenger seat, he clipped himself in before placing a protective hand on her thigh, earning a large grin while she turned the keys in the ignition. “so where are we going?” he spoke eagerly, rubbing gentle circles into her exposed leg. “the beach!” she squealed, pulling out of their driveway excitedly.

“the beach? baby i’m wearing a suit..” he whined, throwing his head back against the seat. “so? it’ll be fun! don’t be such a party pooper!” she teased, eyes concentrated on the road as his bore a hole into her face.

he smirked as his eyes scanned her face, noticing the lack of makeup, paired with a simple sundress that lingered perfectly around her knees.

rafe sighed contently as he listened to her quiet hums, in tune with the radio. i could listen to this all day, he thought, almost worried her quiet harmonies would lull him to sleep.

“hey! look alive! we’re here!” she shrieked, jolting him slightly as he rested his eyes. “i’m coming!” he retorted with a groan, exiting the car.

“what are you doing?” he questioned, puzzled at her sudden disappearance. “be patient!” she snapped jokingly, rounding the car once more, this time with a basket on her arm, full of picnic snacks.

his eyes widened, a sudden warm feeling twanging his heart as he watched her eyes light up, holding the heavy basket like her life depended on it. “i think i might have packed too much..” she frowned, looking between him and the basket, which was overflowing with various sorts of bread.

he chuckled at her silent pleas, swiftly taking the basket from her arm, placing it on his instead.

the look on his face was priceless as she took off in a sprint towards the shoreline, unbothered by the copious amounts of sand quickly filling her sandals.

“rafe look! the moon!” she shrieked, sticking her hand out like a child as she bounced on her feet. “i know angel, it’s bright tonight huh?” he muttered, connecting the dots in his mind.

he wasn’t a moron, and he knew she wasn’t either. rafe was well aware that she’d absolutely spent days planning this, making sure they left the house at exactly the right time, ensuring they got to their destination just as the full moon reached its peaks, glistening down on the soft waves.

“there’s a blanket in the basket, i think we should put it here!” she suggested, pointing to the spot she stood in, right in the middle of the beach. he nodded quickly, setting the basket down to rifle through it before unrolling the large throw blanket she’d brought, laying it out in front of her. “here?”

“it’s perfect!” she sang, quickly situating herself cross legged on the soft material. following suit, rafe lay down beside her, propping himself up with his elbow, allowing his shirt to become disheveled slightly, exposing his solid chest.

“you look nice tonight..” she giggled, cupping his cheeks as she pulled him into her lap, stroking his buzzed hair with the tips of her nails. “and you, look absolutely beautiful my sweet girl..” he cooed, pressing gentle kisses to her clothed hips as he relaxed into her lap.

hours of laughter and stolen kisses passed when she took notice of his first yawn, frowning slightly as she checked the time, disappointed that the night was leaving them so quickly.

“hey..will you swim with me?” she whispered, drumming her fingers against his nose, quickly drawing his attention to her. “swim? what about our clothes?”

“c’mon! it’ll be romantic! and i doubt we’ll get to do something like this again for a while..” she sighed, pouting at him. pretending to consider it, he twisted his face for a moment, looking into the sky, deep in thought. “fine, let’s go..”

y/n squealed in excitement as she jumped up, racing him to the shallow end of the sea.

“ha-ha! i win!” she yelled, splashing around as she shivered against the cold water. “oh yeah?” he teased, a devilish smile plastered on his face as he waded towards her. “no! stay back! you will absolutely not dunk me this time!” she shrieked, desperately making her escape.

too slow against the current of the ocean, he managed to wrap a strong arm around her waist, dragging her under with him. her screams became muffled as a torrent of bubbles escaped her mouth, prickling the surface.

as he brought her back up, she let out a gasp, coughing as she choked slightly. “you…are dead!” she cried breathlessly, launching herself at him, causing him to topple backwards with a splash, water now trickling from his suit pockets.

losing track of time, the pair quickly got lost in the moment, chasing each other continuously around in circles, stealing kisses when they re-emerged from under the surface.

they stood breathless together, holding each other like they’d never see eachother again if they let go. she craned her neck into the crook of his, slowly beginning a rhythm with her hips, swaying to the sound of the small waves crashing.

he mimicked her actions, moving his hands to grip her waist, bunching her sopping dress up. they rocked back and forth, admiring each others features as the moonlight shone down on them, highlighting their prominent features.

y/n’s eyes began to brim with tears as she noticed a large smile settling on his face, so utterly enamoured with the man.

“i love you rafe, thank you for taking the night off with me..” she muttered, pressing a wet kiss to his lips. returning the favour, he deepened the kiss, using a free hand to hold the back of her head, smoothing down her frizzing hair.

“i love you too angel, maybe you should hide my phone more often..”

[srbachchan]

DAY 5799

Jalsa, Mumbai Jan 2/3, 2024 Tue/Wed 6:28 AM

🪔 ,

January 03 .. birthday wishes to our Ef and greetings to all ..

Ef Himanshu Srivastava .. Ef Nandkeshor Dattatreya Paatil .. Ef Omnia from Egypt 🇪🇬 .. Ef Anuradha Raheja from Madurai .. and Ef Megha VJ from USA 🇺🇲 ..

.. ✨

🌹

Babuji .. a prominent member of the Freedom Fighters for Independent India .. and how his modest home was opened for secret meetings and a place to hide, for the freedom fighters ..

In one of his conversations with me he did describe how the great freedom fighter Chandrashekhar 'Azaad' had sought refuge at his home and remained rolled up in a 'bistar band' .. बिस्तर बंद .. the 'HoldAll' of my times, a canvas type rolled packaging with straps to tie it up, inside which was laid a mattress, pillows, your shoes and other essentials for travel .. all then rolled up and tied in leather straps, which then became an essential baggage element during travel .. it would and was opened up by releasing the straps, unrolling it and viola, a ready made bed - mattress pillows and all .. open it up on the bed or floor or a train berth .. most convenient and the most important baggage material for travel .. well on train and cars and bus travels .. until the airplane arrived as the more, now common mode of travel ..

So 'Azad' remained rolled up in the 'holdall' - a most convenient and descriptive word coined for this kind of baggage essential - and secretly spent a night there at Babuji's home .. rolled up in a holdall !!

The dedication and will of the freedom fighter ! Incredible !!

Chandrashekhar 'Azad' later took on the British forces, a large contingent, in the famous Allahabad park, then known as Alfred Park, alone, hiding behind a tree, firing bullets from his pistol , until when his ammunition was exhausted and when he felt he would be caught, he ended his life behind that tree, by shooting his last bullet .. at himself .. not wanting to give himself up to the British ..

The park has now been renamed in his honour .. The Chandrashekhar Azad Park ..

I spent a large amount of time at this park, for picnics etc., and this was where the popular Allahabad Flower Show used to be held, where I went with Ma .. she won several cups for Best Garden, and Best Flower, the rose, competition !

I remember seeing that famous tree, behind which Azad took shelter and fought the British contingent ..

The park was a large expanse of green and flowers and trees right almost in the centre of the city .. a canopied structure in the middle of the park, was inhabited by a Band, every Sunday, playing old tunes of the time ..

The park also had a most well kept grass tennis court, where I saw some great International players during their tournament, organised by the Allahabad Civic authorities .. I cannot remember their names .. was too young for that .. but they were from Britain, and some European countries , I think ..

They were invited for a tea reception at Justice Mootham's residence, the then Chief Justice of the Allahabad High Court ..

If my memory does not fail me .. Justice Mootham ! yes that name is correct in memory ..

7 :00 AM

a bit misleading the time , for I have been up since 4 .. loitering about in my room, nursing a muscle pulled back in spasm, unable to sleep or rest .. so a selective spray, that boasts of 'pain relief' within minutes - they all do - was generously applied and ..

And ..

Well, the discomfort remains .. ahahaha ..

🤣🤣🤣

The greetings of the New Year, the greetings for the Birthday have all been overwhelmingly large, and this has provided an enormous amount of space occupation on the mobile .. which as I try to address, is becoming a most arduous task ..

SO ..

may I just acknowledge all that have sent their wishes and greetings here and express my inadequacy in making personal responses ..

PLEASE ..

my gratitude then and my love for this ..

❤️

Laziness persists .. and that induces a temperament , which is difficult to describe ..

The absence of routine may sound odd, but routine puts and gathers the body in a way that keeps it going .. else , one never has a solution as to what can be done to occupy time .. and several essentials loose their essentiality !

Making sense ..

No ..

Well then too bad ! 🥹

Was going to suggest, you get lazy to experience and endorse my words, but that would be so ethically incorrect ..

Hence its a wish for the effervescent day ahead .. and my love 😍

Amitabh Bachchan

PS : I was right .. 👇🏽

Orby Howell Mootham

Sir Orby Howell Mootham (17 February 1901 – 19 July 1995) was a British lawyer, legal writer, and judge who was the Chief Justice of the Allahabad High Court from 1955 to 1961, the third-last British judge to serve in India.

[peachiekeaneart]

(feat. my actual mobility aids and my actual medications)

ramblings under the cut:

been working on this one since July. I don’t often make art that is extremely personal or intimate bc I’m a clown. However this one is very important to me.

I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that I am (and kind of always have been?) disabled. I struggle with so much - jobs, learning, daily pain and fatigue, mental illness, emotional regulation, dysfunctional eating, trauma - and on top of it all, I struggle with imposter syndrome. Sure, I seem to struggle more than the average person, but what if im accidentally making it all up?

For about as long as I can remember, I have been told to suck it up or muscle through it or to tough it out. So I did. I tried this for a long ass time. frankly a looney tunes amount of time.

As it turns out, when your shit is chronic, there’s no such thing as breaking through to the other side. You can’t get over it like a cold. I’m not trudging through a temporary rough patch of mud towards a smooth, paved sidewalk that I can see just a few feet away. The idea of a Promised Land where my one and only brain and body on this god forsaken earth just ~functions normally~ is a damn lie, a mirage on the desert horizon. It’s a beautiful trick that’s used against me to make me push myself beyond my limits.

And like a good little fool, i fucking fell for it, over and over again, for a literal decade, without anything to show for my journey. Not only am I just as far away from this Promised Land as I ever was, but years of overextending and overworking myself has yielded nothing but more injuries, more stress, and more insecurities.

So I made this colorful little piece. It has 100 bespoke layers and took me a grand total of 30 hours to complete. My meds look like candy because I love taking them. I’m in my comfy clothes even though they don’t always reflect my gender accurately. I display my wrist brace and my cane without guilt. For this one, I actively disregarded Art Rules in favor of following whatever was pleasing to my eye.

This one is for me, exactly the way I am: I am a mess, I care too much, I have no chill, I’ve got big feelings, and I’m incapable of half-assing anything no matter how much I want to. This is my way of honoring everything I’ve muscled through, regardless of how privately or publicly I did so. It’s a reminder to myself.

Anyway. tl;dr this baby contains multitudes *slaps it like the hood of a car*

[cellarspider]

I have a car and some time off work tomorrow, are there any good orgs you can recommend if I want to volunteer to drive folks to the polls tomorrow? I figure it's largely a regional issue but maybe there's some nationwide networks out there?

That's an excellent question! There may be local opportunities, you are definitely correct on that! Your local party HQ will definitely be looking for volunteers! Look them up and give them a call--local groups will definitely be most in tune with where people are needed.

While I haven't been directly involved in rideshare stuff, I do see that Rideshare2vote has a national program which might be what you're looking for. There's a 1.5 hour virtual orientation, and an app to connect drivers to people who need rides:

There may also be other kids of local volunteering opportunities listed on Mobilize, which my local party used for most volunteer sign-ups. Put in your location and the date, to see any opportunities that are listed.

And if anybody else who reads this has another good source for this sort of stuff, feel free to throw it in the comments!

[angelic-cosm]

Jadie Hla Nwe Moe 🩰

2005-2024

Cause of Death: Complications of Anorexia Nervosa

Developmental Regression Range: 4-5 years old

Support Needs: Limited Mobility, Selective Mutism, Trouble Regulating Basic Bodily Systems

Jadie was a hyper competitive gymnast and ballerina in life. She had potential to go pro in both, however was more keen on having a career in ballet.

Her family was extremely toxic. But where Rhea's parents were uninvolved, Jadie was smothered by an overbearing, enmeshed mother. She put Jadie up on a pedestal one moment, telling her how slim and beautiful and graceful and talented she was, just to tear her down the next. Jadie was never truly good enough. The pressure of trying to chase the approval of her mother, her toxic coaches, and the hypercompetitive gymnast and dance world eventually lead her to developing an eating disorder.

I won't go into detail, but I will say that Jadie tried many, many times to recover. However, she passed away shortly after her 19th birthday from chronic health complications brought on by the ED.

Jadie arrived rather unceremoniously to the hotel. Lucifer found her one evening sitting in front of the fireplace in the lobby. The poor girl was so cold that she was literally sticking her hands and face in the fire, yet wasn't burning.

Jadie is a solid piece of jade stone. She's as beautiful as a carved Greco-Roman statue. Her hair, her eyes, her lips, her hands, only move because she wills them to. As with any natural stone, she has natural variation to her skin tone; some parts are nearly pure white, while others are a deep mint green.

She is 300 lbs of densely packed rock in a petite frame. She moves slowly, but is not in pain. She often needs walking breaks, so her stroller and adapted shopping carts are a necessity. The stone of her body audibly grinds against itself with every movement; her legs walking, her eyes shifting, even her stomach digesting food.

Jadie cannot regulate her body heat, and relies on cozy clothes, heating pads, heating lamps, and snuggles to stay comfortable. When she gets too cold, she lets out a heartbreaking cry and it takes a while to get her to warm up/calm down. She cannot recognize when she needs to eat, drink, sleep, or use the bathroom. Because of this, her main caregiver Angel Dust keeps her on a strict care schedule.

Jadie's personality is calm but content. She loves the hotel. She loves the caregivers. She doesn't speak, but follows directions very well (Charlie gives her the "Best Listener Award" every week in nursery school). She doesn't attempt to communicate, although she is very bright and in tune with what's going on around her. Her favorite toys are cars, and her favorite games are Candy Land and Duck Duck Goose. She loves the Barbie movies (animated and live action). Rhea keeps trying to fight her, but Jadie always wins. Rhea will get on top of the couch to pounce on Jadie, and Jadie just throws her across the room and goes back to playing. It's weird as hell and Vaggie can't figure out 1) what Rhea's deal is, and 2) how a baby of HERS is so bad at fighting. Seriously. Rhea can't even get a hit in but keeps going back for more.

[eruherdiriel]

Pumpkin

Ficlet for the @jonsa-halloween event. 28th Oct: The Stranger - Pumpkin - Full Moon Rating: G Universe: Modern

Also on AO3.

They leave the party together. Jon tells himself it doesn’t mean anything—she just doesn’t want to walk out alone. Nevermind that they both grew up in Winterfell and could navigate the town blindfolded. Nevermind that this is a safe part of town; it’s Halloween, and people in Winterfell are enthusiastic about the holiday. Maybe too enthusiastic.

So he doesn’t just leave the house with her; Jon ends up walking Sansa to her car—which is parked in the opposite direction from his—because you never know when you might run into overzealous trick-or-treaters or occult-obsessed school girls who think they might be real witches.

“Well, this is me,” Sansa says, stopping at her grey Honda Civic.

“I remember,” Jon chuckles. She had asked him to come along when she bought it a few months back, saying she didn’t know anything about cars and it would be helpful to have him along. In the end, Jon may have pointed out issues with a few of the used cars she was considering, but it was Sansa who charmed the salesman into a discount of 300 gold dragons.

Jon waits for Sansa to take out her keys, but she merely shuffles her feet and then looks at him. Why is she looking at me like that? Now that he thinks of it, she’s been a bit off all night, clasping her hands behind her back like she does when she is uncertain but wants to appear composed, laughing too late at jokes like she wasn’t paying attention, staring—

She breaks into his thoughts with a laugh, the one she fakes when she’s nervous. Why is she nervous?

“Look at that,” she says, holding up her phone screen for him to see the time. “Midnight.”

Then she’s dropping the mobile into her purse, leaning up on her toes, and pressing her lips against his, and Jon’s brain just … goes blank.

“Wrong holiday,” he says, like an idiot, once she’s pulled back from him.

Sansa laughs, and suddenly he doesn’t care if he sounds like an idiot if it makes her laugh—her true one, a mellifluous tune emitted from her slightly parted mouth, front teeth showing and her bottom lip stretched full.

“Well, maybe I wanted one kiss before I turn back into a pumpkin.”

“Pretty sure that’d make you the carriage in this scenario.” This time, it’s on purpose. He wants to make her laugh again. When she does, it gives him the courage he needs.

Tangling one hand in her hair, the other pressed lightly on her back, he brings her back into his space and kisses her. 

The front door of the house slams shut; someone else is leaving, and they wolf whistle as they walk out, causing the kiss to end.

“Oh gods.” Sansa giggles and buries her head into Jon’s chest. It’s such a small thing, her step toward instead of away, but it makes his heart catch.

“Go on a date with me?” he asks.

She leans back to look him in the eyes before she nods.

[crimeronan]

turning off reblogs bc we were able to get the car fixed!! ty everyone!!

god okay. i wish i was NOT constantly having to keep you guys updated on various life struggles. at the very least, i’m Extremely Hopeful that this is the last post i’ll need to make to this end for a while -- my rheumatology referral is finally sorted, so i’m just waiting for them to call me to schedule me in, and then i Should finally have some control over the medical emergency i’ve been trapped inside for. months.

i’m on medicaid so i don’t need financial help with medical bills (THANK GOD). however, my car just died. it needs a new starter and my mechanic has quoted me around $870 for the cost of parts and labor. i was able to use the help you guys gave me last time to get caught up on bills and to have my engine tuned, so i’m hopeful that this fix will keep my car running properly for the next few years.

it’s very very very important that i fix my car -- i can use public transit to get to the grocery store and to my main doctor’s office without much trouble, but the bloodwork lab & specialist doctors & my partners’ doctors & other stores are further away and more difficult to access. in theory, i CAN still do it, but chronic fatigue and crippling mobility problems make long trips on public transit infeasible. and obviously lyfts/ubers are extremely expensive when i’m already below the poverty line.

i’m happy to expand more on my financial and health situations if anybody needs more info, i’m just trying to keep this post concise. i don’t want anyone to overtax themselves donating to me, i know pretty much everyone is struggling. if you DO have a couple bucks to spare, everything will go toward repairing my car. literally anything helps and i’m immeasurably grateful for the help i’ve received in the past.

i’m also spending tonight reaching out to old job clients and getting my fiverr profile set up for a better / more consistent client pool. i haven’t been able to work as much as usual because of the aforementioned health problems AND because AI articles have really eaten into my usual client base. but i promise i’m doing my best to keep my head above water. my dream is to get back to a place where i can be the one donating to my friends instead of asking them for help ;-;

thanks for reading and thank you all for the support -- not just now but over the past several years of hashtag Struggle. it means So Much, i don’t have words to express how much it means.

venmo: @Katherine-MacEachern

paypal: paypal.me/kitkatmkath

ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/elliptical

AND i just got direct tipping set up on this blog if it’s easier not to leave tumblr!

[alexbraindump]

the optimism of mundanity in sci-fi

[word count: 980]

Mundanity serves my favorite role in worldbuilding. Beyond fictional politics, cultures or races sits the - often overlooked - role of the mundane. The things we do in our day-to-day lives. Where we keep our keys, our routines before going out for the day, the junk we may leave lying around. It’s part of a tiny picture that lingers in the shadows of the vast worlds we build and stories we weave. Yet from that snapshot blossoms a viewpoint dripping with relatability, one that places you into the shoes of a character living in that world to a capacity far beyond that which anything else could even hope to achieve.

When I’m writing a character introduction, it’s about more than just the character’s current position and desires. It’s about integrating the world into their life. If space travel is a commonplace fixture of their world and they own a spaceship, what’s the role of that ship to them? Is it like a car, a mobile home, a flying armory? If it’s like a car, have they left it stock, or have they modified and tuned the way a car lover would in real life? If it’s like a home, what furniture do they deem priority, do they keep it clean, is there any decoration? If an armory, what’s the weaponry of this universe like, what kinds of weapons do they want to keep loaded, how organized is it? (check out the first chapter of my story 501-b, also on this blog, if you wanna see where that though process brought me ;3)

Opportunities for both character and worldbuilding are already pouring out from that simple hypothetical. So many things can be said right away with the mundane relationship between a character and their mode of transport. To them, that’s just how it is, nothing special. The same way you’d look at a car. To the reader, though? That’s a nuclear bomb of information you just detonated in their face and they probably didn’t even realize. If you get how a character views their ship, you already start to understand their personality and the role of space travel in that world right off the bat.

It’s always been alluring to me, an element my mind would hook its foxy paws onto right away. While the lack of it wouldn’t bug me much, I’d always start to wonder about it later. Where does this character live, what’s their home look like? By no means am I arguing that this is an absolute necessity to make a good story. Every story has its own unique needs that can be filled however the creator sees fit. But for me, what I want to see and make more of, is something more down-to-earth. And while a good chunk of that is - admittedly - just me being a neurodivergent nerd, I feel like there’s something more to it. Forgive me for getting a little pretentious from here on out, but-

Mundanity in sci-fi is optimistic. It’s this tinge of reassurance that, no matter what happens, no matter how bad things get or how far we make it away from our home planet, we’re still individuals. Whether its huge, bombastic threats like scary evil aliens, or depressingly real ones like corporate overreach and profit motives, we will persist. There’s comfort in that.

When I get to see a character doing their morning routine in a world separated from our own by anything between decades to centuries, it feels good. Like the artist/writer is patting me on the head and saying “there there, things may be shit, but life isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.” And maybe there’s a nihilistic twist on it, like propaganda on a television or corporate products lining a comfy home’s shelves, but that’s still a television or a home. They may come home from the Sub-Minimum Wage Employee Pulper 9,000™, and that will inherently be sympathetic, but when we get to see them toss their coat aside and go to the kitchen to make a lazy, unhealthy meal and slouch on their sofa and pick up a television remote to flip to their favorite channel, the connection that forms is irreplaceable.

And I feel that it’s severely underutilized. When I watched Andor for the first time (amazing show btw, check it out even if you aren’t the biggest fan of starred wars) and we got to see a character return to their mother’s apartment and eat space cereal with space milk, it was somehow one of the most jarring moments I’ve seen in a Star Wars thing. Living situations are oftentimes such an understated part of popular sci-fi media that I actually felt jarred upon seeing one. And I loved it.

That’s just how uncommon they can be. And I hate that. I hate that sci-fi loves to dismiss the mundanities of life, because those are when I feel the most at-home in a universe. I can immediately feel a character’s vibe if I see them kick their feet up in a messy impromptu living room in their spaceship. While you can put in the work to make me feel that same thing through dialogue and actions, it’s arguably even more work.

So next time you’re making a story, why not save yourself some trouble and show your audience a little snippet of day-to-day life in your world? Show us what a character’s phone looks like and how they use it, or maybe if they have a wallpaper (if applicable) or any stickers on the back of it? Or give us some tiny details about how they get from place to place. Is public transport a thing, do they own their own vehicle of some kind, or do they just walk? Hopefully these thoughts conjure the same kind of inspiration in you as the ones that run around wreaking havoc in my little fox brain.

[honeybeeloxs]

TURNER LANE

Ethan Landry x Male Reader

Thought I should write something cuter instead of, um, it being so goddamn negative all the time. If I feel like it I'll probably write a part 2 to this, if I feel like it... aka If I'm bored enough and have no ideas.

SUMMARY:

Y/N and Quinn are best friends, Ethan is too scared to ask his crush out on a date because he's afraid he'll make it awkward if you said no, then continued to hang out with Quinn.

Takes place during the events of Scream (2022)

Ethan's been into you for a while, too scared to ask you out; he would find it awkward if you said no, then continued to hang out with Quinn; you went everywhere together. He noticed the tan cargo pants that hung loosely, and you paired that with a graphic t-shirt; he finally decided to tune into their conversation. "Well, I told him that." Y/N turned her head, his eyes on the shorter friend; the redhead smiled, "Whatever, he just thinks you're pretty." she replied, looking back to Ethan, who smiled at her. "Everyone thinks I'm pretty…." Y/N mumbled as he held his books closer; Quinn scoffed and rolled her eyes before smiling at her best friend. Ethan tuned out after that, but he could hear him laugh. He loved that laugh; just as they were about to turn the street corner and go home, a car horn stopped them.

"Quinn, Ethan… Oh hey, Y/N." Wayne smiled at him, "You guys need a ride home?" he asked, and Quinn accepted the offer. "Y/N, you need a ride home?" Quinn asks curiously, fixing her argyle skirt as she gets into her father's police car, "Nah, I'll pass, not feeling like getting in the Bacon-Mobile today." he responds, which makes Wayne let out a deep laugh. "Ethan?" the redhead asks her brother, who shakes his head, not saying a word. "Alright, I'll see you, Ethan, at home," Wayne says as he drives away. 

Ethan trailed behind Y/N, still looking at him; he blushed just thinking about him. "Hey, Eth," Y/N turns around, walking backward. "You're quiet than usual," he says as he turns back around, skipping a little bit. "You could totally talk more, ya know; I like your voice," he says, which causes Ethan to perk up; he blushes a little bit; oh!?, Y/N like his voice? Maybe he does have a chance. "R-Really?" he stutters; he can admit he's a bit nervous. "Yeah, How's Richie doing? I know he's got his dick wet lately with his girlfriend; what's her name again, Sandra?" Y/N laughs out; Ethan likes how blunt and bold you are; you have no filter, I guess. "Samantha." Ethan corrects him, "Quinn told me all about her. Seems like a real nut job if you ask me." Y/N replies. You two stop in front of the Kirsch's house, "Hey, maybe we could go out, without Quinn, like a date." Y/N says, looking up at Ethan; Ethan could feel the heat go to his ears. "S-Sure! I'll love that." he finally stutters out a response. "Okay, well, maybe we could go to that roller rink on Turner Lane." Ethan looks down at you as you cock your head smiling, "O-Okay! Yea, I'm down." he responds and smiles at him. "Well, you obviously know my number, so… Ill see you later," Y/N says as he grabs Ethan's cheek to kiss it. Y/N turns around and walks across the street to his house; Ethan can't do anything. He's too shocked, so he watches Y/N walk into his home before stepping in.

He did have a chance with him.