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topguncortez · 3 months ago

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Set Up For Failure - J. Halstead

whumptober masterlist || previous day

prompt: "I Warned You"

synopsis: Life with Jay had never been easy, and you knew that being with a police officer wasn't going to be easy. But when a newly released criminal starts repeating the same patterns that got him put behind bars, Jay starts to worry about your safety.

warnings: cursing, robbery gone wrong, attempted murder, mentions of large amounts of blood, crime scenes, pregnancy, kidnapping, mentions of a non-consensual c-section.

word count: 2.9k

Being married to a cop wasn’t easy. Being married to a detective that belonged to Hank Voight’s Intelligence department wasn’t easy either. When you first met Jay, he did everything he possibly could to shield you from the life that he lived. In fact, you didn’t even know his name was Jay until about six months into your relationship. It was by accident that you had figured out his name, who he was and what he did for work.

At first, you were pissed, you didn’t talk to him for about two months, completely cutting him off. How could you be with someone who had lied to you so easily? Who didn’t think you were worthy or trustful enough to tell you what he did every single day? Jay had groveled, showing up at your apartment every day with a bouquet of flowers, begging for you to talk to him. You had got so annoyed that you left a note on the door telling him to take the flowers and donate them to the nursing home. But after the third month of him waiting outside your door, you finally decided to hear him out.

“I have an explanation,” He started. You crossed your arms over your chest, “Everyone who has been close to me ends up getting hurt or worse. I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I have been living in this darkness for so long, and you come and. . . you brought the light back,” Jay shook his head, “I was terrified of what would happen if the light went away.”

“No more lying,” You said, pointing at him.

“None, I swear,” Jay said, putting his hands, “Does this mean I am forgiven?”

“This means you are on probation.”

Four years later, you were now Mrs. Halstead, and in your final month of pregnancy. Life with Jay had been everything you dreamed of and more. He was attentive and caring, always calling you on his way home from the station, or texting you if it was going to be a late night. He did everything he possibly could to provide for you, buying a small fixer upper house near Hank’s place. Will had accepted you as his sister-in-law almost instantly, loving to have someone on his side during petty arguments with Jay. The whole squad had basically adopted you as one of their own, even though you didn’t have a single thing to do with the police force. You had been a teacher until you got pregnant, and decided to spend the first year of your baby’s life at home.

"There's been a series of break-ins in the Sunset Hills neighborhood, which has residents on alert. Channel 10 news is-"

The TV had clicked off from behind you, causing you to gasp and look over your shoulder at your husband. You smiled sheepishly before turning back to the pile of baby clothes that you were folding.

“You’re home early,” You said.

“Mhm,” Jay answered, crossing his arms over his chest, “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you know,” You lifted up a pile of folded onesies, “Kid has more clothes than me.” Jay’s eyebrow raised, “And I was just catching up on the local happenings. . . have I told you how much I love you?”

Jay huffed, shaking his head, “I told you to quit reading into that. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You sighed looking down at the pile of clothes, you had been caught yet again. Ever since the first break-in in the neighborhood, you had been on high alert, even though both Jay and Hank assured you that it was nothing to worry about, but you still felt uneasy every time you were in the house alone, which happened to be a lot. Hank told you that the thieves weren’t hurting anyone or going to houses where they knew people were home. The only thing they were guilty of was breaking in and stealing thousands worth in property.

“I have the right to know what’s going on,” You crossed your arms over your chest, “I need to know what is going on in case-“

“Nothing is going to happen,” Jay walked over towards where you sat on the couch and kneeled down in front of you, “Nothing is going to happen to you. We have the best security system money can buy. We are blocks away from the station, uniforms are doing patrols up and down this street, hell, Hank lives right next door,” You chuckled at that. Jay’s large warm hands landed on your belly, gently rubbing over the stretched skin, “You are safe, I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” He placed a kiss on your forehead, “To both of you.” He then placed a kiss on your belly, earning him a kick in response, “Chill out in there, rambo.”

“She gets excited when you’re around,” You smiled, “She can hear you.”

Watching Jay become a father has been your favorite thing in life. From the moment you stood in the door of your shared bedroom, tears running down your face as you told him, you knew he was going to be the best dad ever. The next day he went out and bought as many books as he could on parenting. You had to basically force him to keep his mouth shut from telling the squad, as he wanted to shout from the rooftops he was going to be a dad. Now it was count down mode until his little girl could be in his arms.

— — —

“It’s going to be a late night,” Jay huffed out from the other end. You could hear the faint sound of a radio, and knew he was probably sitting in his patrol truck, Hailey next to him, waiting for some movement or clue.

“This past week have all been late nights,” You sighed, letting the warmth of your bath water seep into your bones. In the past week, it seemed as though your baby was getting ready to make their move to come into this world. Your last appointment your doctor pointed out that your belly had started to drop a bit, which sent Jay into a full on panic. Your back had been killing you, and the only place that seemed to help ease the pain, was the clawfoot bathtub you made Jay put in the bathroom.

“I know, baby,” Jay sighed. He hated the late nights just as much as you did, especially being so close to your due date. He knew that Natalie and Will were right down the street, and would be over in a flash if you ever needed anything, but Jay hated the fact that he couldn’t be right there. His paternity leave wasn’t set to start until after the baby was born.

“Just tell me, you’re going to catch whatever bad guy you are after,” Although you still disliked some aspects of Jay’s job, you loved that he was part of keeping the beautiful city safe.

“Always, baby,” Jay smiled on the other side of the receiver, “I promise I’ll be home as soon as Hank cuts us loose. Tell Rambo she can’t make her appearance tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, “Quit calling her Rambo.”

Jay’s smooth laugh filled the air, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, “I love you, Y/N. I’ll be home soon.”

You spent probably another half hour, until the bath water had run cold and the candles burnt out before you climbed out of the bath. You grabbed a pair of Jay’s boxers and one of his Chicago PD shirts, which seemed to be all that fit you at this point, and some of the only things that felt comfortable enough to wear. You propped the pillows up behind your back as you climbed into bed. Most nights you would fall asleep in the recliner, sitting up nearly straight felt better than laying in a bed. But for some reason, you felt safer lying in your shared bed than being out in the living room.

Sleep didn’t come easy to you. Being almost 40 weeks pregnant, moving around trying to get comfortable wasn’t something new to you. But it wasn’t the feeling of your daughter kicking your ribs that kept you awake. You couldn’t turn your mind off, every slight howl of the wind or the creek of the old house had you jumping slightly, and looking around your dark bedroom. At some point you had drifted off to a light, fitful sleep, but were awoken by the sound of smashing glass.

You gasped, looking around the room, your hand on your pounding heart. You sat still in your bed, straining your ears to hear if maybe it was Jay. But the sound of a groan, had you climbing out of bed, going straight to the safe in the closet. You punched in the code quickly, grabbing the gun and the magazine that Jay kept in there. You had only ever loaded a gun a handful of times, and prayed that you had done it right, as you grabbed your phone, and locked the bedroom door. You dialed 9-1-1 with shaky hands as you heard footsteps and a male grumbling.

“I’m armed and calling 9-1-1!” You yelled out, hoping to scare off whoever was in your house. The trill of the line seemed to go on forever, until you were met with the sound of a dispatcher.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I think someone broke into my house,” You said, trying your best to keep your voice steady, “I-I’m Detective Halstead’s wife.”

“Alright Mrs. Halstead,” The operator said, “Can you tell me where you are at?”

“I’m in my bedroom. I locked the door and hid in the closet.”

“Are you armed?”

You looked down at the black gun on the bedroom floor, tears filling your eyes, “Y-Yes. But please hurry, I think-”

The sound of the bedroom door banging opened caused you to gasp. You clamped a hand over your mouth as the footsteps grew closer to you, and prayed to anyone listening that you were going to make it through this.

— — —

Jay felt like he was about ready to fall asleep. The unit had been tasked with trying to find out who was behind a series of break-ins. It wasn’t their normal gig, break-ins were unfortunately common in their district, but the last two break-ins resulted in two homicides. Hank was going to right off the two homicides, saying that they still didn’t catch the eye of the intelligence unit, but the last two crime scenes had similar patterns to a case that Jay had worked several years ago.

“Have you guys settled on a name?” Hailey asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Jay shook his head with a smile, “She’s still set on Ophelia. But I think Sammy is better.”

“Sammy?” Hailey asked, already guessing what Jay’s answer was going to be.

“For Sammy Sosa!”

Hailey shook her head, “Yeah, I agree with Y/N on this one.” Jay scoffed, and the silence stretched back across the cab of the truck, “Why do you think this is a revenge thing?”

“I don’t know if it is a revenge thing, but I have a feeling it is,” Jay sighed, “The pattern just fits. 13 plain home invasions, then two homicides. The writings in blood on the walls of the crime scene? That wasn’t public knowledge.”

“But why would Roger Sterling wait this long? What has it been, six years?”

Jay nodded his head. It was one of his first cases in the intelligence units, and Hank was right when he said the first one sticks with you. Jay thought he had the facts right out in front of him. Roger Sterling checked all of the boxes for the home invader turned murderer, except one. The night of the third homicide, Roger had a solid alibi that was backed by his wife. But not having an alibi for two out of three murders was good enough for the jury to convict, and sent Roger to prison for two years. That was, until the conviction was overturned on the grounds of ‘not enough solid evidence’. Roger was let go, but he held a vengeance for Jay.

“I don’t know,” Jay ran a hand down his face, “I’m guessing he was probably stewing in his anger. He was proven innocent of all the crimes, but that still doesn’t give him a clean bill. He’s probably been angry for years and is now acting out.”

“It just doesn’t make-”

“All Units, All Units, we have an active call for a home invasion and the sound of gun fire.”

Jay cursed, grabbing his radio, “This is 5021 George, what’s the address we’re in route.”

“Address is three-twelve south Cleveland street.”

Jay felt like his heart had stopped in his chest, as his radio fell from his hand. The only sound in his ears was the sound of his blood, roaring in his body. Everything had frozen, his hands began to shake and his vision went black. He couldn’t even hear or feel Hailey shaking him out of his trance, trying to get his attention. It was like Jay’s body moved on autopilot, as he pulled the truck out of park and sped towards his house.

His house.

The house his wife and child were home alone in.

The house where there were gunshots fired.

Jay barely put the truck in park as he arrived on scene, and didn’t even bother to shut the door as he jumped out and ran up the yellow police tape. The bright lights and sounds of sirens were making his head pound as he tried to push his way through to his house. He was brought out of his trance when he felt a hand on his chest, stopping him from approaching. Jay looked down, anger coursing through his bones.

“Let me fucking go,” He sneered at Hank.

“I can’t let you do that,” Hank’s gravelly voice sounded out.

“That’s my wife!”

“And this is a crime scene,” Hank barked back, “My crime scene.” Jay felt like he was going to throw up, as his knees gave out. Hank quickly wrapped an arm around him, helping him down to the curb.

“Is she-”

“She’s alive,” Hank responded, “But barely. They took her straight to Med, I called ahead and told Will to meet her there.”

Jay felt like he could breathe a little bit better, knowing that his baby brother was going to be in charge of his wife’s care. It was as if Jay’s mind went blank, a factory reset as he looked at the members of his unit jump right into working the scene.

“I need to see it,” Jay said, his voice lacking any emotion. Hailey, who stood behind him, gave Hank a look, but the older man knew Jay well enough.

“C’mon,” Hank turned and walked towards the house, Jay hot on his heels. The two of them pushed through the yellow police tape, and Jay felt his heart tick again.

The perfect house that Y/N had spent so much time on, was destroyed. Pieces of glass from the windows littered the floor, pictures on the wall had been skewed, bloody footprints left on the hardwood floors that took Jay way too long to fix up.

Jay clenched his jaw, “Where was she?”

“Perp came in through the back,” Adam explained, pointing to the open back door, “Looted around down here for a little bit, from what we can tell, nothing was taken.” Jay couldn’t even focus on seeing if anything was missing, he was more concerned on how Y/N ended up the victim. “Then he went upstairs,” Adam nodded his head towards the bloody footprints.

Hank then led him up the stairs, where more uniforms stood around taking pictures, and putting numbered yellow place cards on the blood splatters. Normally, the coppery scent of blood didn’t bother Jay, but this had him feeling sick as he approached his bedroom.

“The 9-1-1 call was dialed from in here,” Hank said, “Her phone was found in the closet along with a nine mil.” Jay felt some sense of pride that Y/N knew to get the gun from the safe. He could remember the day he had first brought it home and how much she had protested having a weapon in the house. But Jay promised it would be the only weapon they had and it was going to be under lock and key at all times.

“Did she fire it?” Jay asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hank nodded, “Bullet embedded in the wall.”

“She missed,” Jay shook his head, his blue eyes looking down at the huge blood spot on the bedroom floor. “Is th-that her. . .” Hank nodded his head again. Jay let out a shuddering breath as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was as if time had finally stopped, and Jay came to a sickening realization about the blood on the floor, “The baby. . .” His eyes widened as he looked at Hank, who had a grime expression on his face, “Where is my baby?”

Hank looked at Adam, who stood in the doorway, “We have an amber alert-”

Jay stood up from the bed immediately, but Hank put a hand on his chest, “Get your fucking hand off of me.”

“We found this next to her,” Hank handed Jay a note.

Jay took the yellow piece of notebook paper, which was folded in half and a polaroid picture was in the middle. The picture was of Y/N, and it looked to be taken not that long ago, her round pregnant belly protruding out as she stood in front of the large bay window of the living room. Written in what Jay prayed was red ink were the words:

“I warned you.”

#jay halstead #jay Halstead fan fic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n #chicago pd #chicago pd fan fic #chicago pd fan fiction #chicago pd imagine #whumptober 2024

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fordtato · 6 months ago

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Emergency commissions/donations to help me move!

Hey all! I'm in a tough financial spot with a very unexpected $1000 move-out fee, and I need some help!

So I am offering fic commissions AND background/landscape art - That's right, writing AND art, for the prices below! I also will accept donations, but I feel more comfortable offering art, etc.

Donations:

I will accept donations if you just wanna help out! If you'd like to pay for a commission, keep scrolling.

If you would just like to donate without a commission, here is my Ko-Fi!

Fanfiction commissions:

Won't write:

fandoms I know nothing about (DM me if you'd like something outside of Gravity Falls work, though I'm sure that's where most of my following is)

gore

any type of thing that would get me cancelled on twitter dot com (come on guys, im a YouTuber now)

Will write:

Just about anything else tbh. OCs, melodrama, angst, hurt-comfort, you name it.

NSFW (for adult customers only. im not writing this for teenagers. do your homework)

Rates: $25 per 1k words, with a 150 word buffer. (Meaning, if I write 1150 words, I'm not charging you extra, it'll still be $25)

Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!

Note: I will not be posting these on Ao3, due to Ao3's "no money for fics" rules.

Examples of my fics, if you want to check out my work:

Note: Jersey Boy is my oldest fic (literally 8 years old and still going). The first couple chapters are pretty rough imo. The latter chapters are more in line with my capabilities. Also, yes, this fic is still being written, it's just being written between jobs and between work on YouTube vids, and I have less available time for it than I used to. Pay me to finish more of Jersey Boy (/s)

Background art commissions:

So, 90% of the artists I know tell me that background/environment art is one of the parts of the process they dislike the most. But it's actually my favorite thing to draw!

I actually don't feel comfortable enough in my drawing of characters to feel good about charging people for those, but I think I can consistently do some background art!

Examples of my art/pricing below!

Simpler color palette/lighting, and fewer details: $20-30

More detailed digital paintings: $40-50

For anymore detail then what you see above, we'll have to work that pricing out!

Example of heavy detail that might cost more:

Send me details on what you'd like in a digital painting and we will work out a timetable!

Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!

Donate/pay here: My Ko-Fi

I appreciate you reading, and if you can't help out, please share!

#gravity falls #art commissions #open commissions #writing commissions #signal boost #help me out if you are willing and able #or just share!

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spookysteddie · 1 year ago

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Text Me The Details

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: gossip magazines, reader being horny on a live stream, cocky!Eddie, drinking, drugs mention

a/n: I kinda want this to be a series? So expect a part two at some point. But yeah this isn't an original idea so, credit to literally everyone who's done this before me. I gave reader a last name because if I have to write y/l/n one more time I'll sob. ANYWAY I hope you all enjoy and let me know if you like this!

WC: 1.2k

...

You are never drinking again. Ever.

Your management would agree after what happened last night. You didn’t mean to spill the secret you’d been keeping. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, however, you had an image to keep up. The party girl, the kind one, the one with lots of friends, the girl who had good grades in college, the one who always donated most of her fortune to various organizations.

Now, every tabloid was writing articles about your celebrity crush.

Party girl and influencer drunkenly admits she’d love to sleep with lead singer of Corroded Coffin Eddie Munson. Sources have said they’ve been together for a while but decided to keep it under wraps.

The dating portion of that article wasn’t true and you silently vow to figure out who the fuck these ‘sources’ were. However, you admitting to wanting to fuck Eddie… did happen. You have no one to blame but yourself.

Now, there are three reasons why you’re so stressed about this. First, even though you party all the time, you were good. You know, like only went out on the weekends, did every single assignment, tutored people on the side, was probably the most unproblematic influencer out there. Second, the last thing you wanted was Eddie Munsons attention. You had this thing where you didn’t want the people you were fans of to perceive you.

Theoretically you knew they did, most of them followed you on social media. But there was a difference between being a fan of someone, and them semi-knowing you vs your actual crush who you own a poster or two of? That makes you want to throw up and pass out at the same time.

But, finally, the third reason this stressed you out was because Eddie and his crew were not good. You know like, partied every single day, smoked a lot of weed and snorted coke off of his groupies and fans. It was all over the tabloids and the band has even posted about it a time or two. You didn’t do that. And if the tabloids caught you doing that, you’d lose everything you worked towards.

“So this is how we’re going to fix it,” Case, your manager, says from where she’s standing next to the fireplace in your apartment. “You’re gonna go back on live and say it was an accident.”

You look up from the article you were reading, eyes finding his. “That is the worst idea ever. I was tipsy not black out drunk. No one will ever believe that was an accident.” You huff, locking your phone, “and I have tickets to their show next week.”

You loved your team, but sometimes they made the most insane comments on how to fix the unfixable.

You stand, pacing the room, “he isn’t one to read gossip magazines. And-and I’m not on the same level as his band. They’re A listers and I’m C list at best.”

Your manager and publicist look like fish after what you said. Anna, your publicist speaks first, “I swear to god if you ever say that again I am uppin your therapy appointments. You hear me?”

You huff, sitting back down on the couch, “I’m not kidding though. I’m not giving up this ticket. It’s one of the few things I’m looking forward to.”

Case answers after rubbing her temples, “you better pray this blows over without him seeing it. You may party but his partying is a whole other level.”

…

The call came two days later, an unknown number popping up on your phone.

You knew, you knew before you even accepted the call who’d be on the other end of the line.

It felt like it started in slow motion, first came the gossip mags with the original story. Then came Eddie following you on instagram. He’d like a few photos and stories you put up. Then came his interview. The interview where he said, “of course I know who she is. I’m flattered really. I hear she’s a sweet girl.”

Now, your phone is buzzing in your hand and you can’t bring yourself to answer the phone.

“Yes just a fucking person. Just like you’re a person. Answer the phone.” You look down at the phone and are thankful it’s just you in your house. You tap the answer button, a fake smile on your face, as you put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you use your best interview voice, the one Anna has drilled into you.

You can hear him breathe in before letting it out, long and slow, it’s clear he took a drag of his cigarette. Is he nervous too? There’s no way. Eddie always seemed to be this cool and calm guy, never afraid of anything or anyone. He gets into more fights in a week than you have in your entire 25 years of existence.

“Good afternoon, Miss Asher.” You can hear the grin in his voice and it sends a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s Eddie.”

He didn’t have to introduce himself to you, you’d be able to pick out his voice in a crowded room. But only because you’ve listened to his music so often… only reason.

“Oh! Hi! I’m s-surprised to hear from you.” You cringe at the stutter that came out of you. You had more than enough practice dealing with any situation thrown at you. From the funny to the uncomfortable to the scary. You were trained for this and you were fucking it up. “How can I help you?”

“The band and I will be in town next friday, we’re playing a show.” You know where this is going and it makes your heart beat faster, so fast you’re scared it’ll burst. “I was wonderin’ if you were goin’?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

“I am, actually. Me and a few of my friends actually.” You rub your hands down your sweatpants, nerves making them sweat.

“Oh! Well that is fantastic,” his tone is chipper as hell and you know he’s high. On what, you have no idea. “I was thinkin’ that maybe ya friends and you’d wanna join us backstage. VIP area for the show? What cha think?”

All of sudden you forget how the english language works, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long. Well, in your dreams of course. But looking at it from a business perspective, it could bring his fans to your page and your fans to his page. It was kind of a win win. Well, win win lose because then Corroded coffin knows who the actual fuck you are and you arent just some fan. And that, terrified you,

“Heeeeeeello? Are you there?”

His voice breaks through your clogged mind, forcing you to respond.

“Hi, sorry. I’m here! I um I got distracted. But, yeah that sounds great, actually. We-we’d love that.”

“Good! I will have my people call your people, yeah?”

“O-or you can just send me the information,” you say it before thinking and now you really want to punch yourself.

He chuckles to himself, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll text you the information. See you next friday.”

He hangs up before you can say another fucking stupid thing. You press the phone into your hands, foot bouncing on the floor with nerves. You can think of seven different ways that conversation could’ve (and should’ve) happened. One of which was with your entire team, another being with your friends, another being with your parents. Not alone to make a fool out of yourself. Your management team was really going to kill you.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader #Rockstar!Eddie x influencer!reader

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icyg4l · 8 months ago

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PAC: How to Improve Your Relationship With Your Mother Figure

Hello beautiful people. Today is Mother’s Day and I want to wish all of the mothers out there a Happy Mother’s Day. Whether your mother is alive, dead or far away, I want to dedicate this reading to those who wish to have better relationships with their mothers. You don’t have to have a strained relationship with your mother to relate to this topic. You could simply just want to keep the bond that you have already. And lastly, I want to dedicate this Mother’s Day to the mothers in Haiti, Congo, Palestine, Sudan, Tigray and unfortunately many more. If you have any crowdfunding links that need to be boosted/donated to regarding mothers/families in these countries, please do not hesitate to direct me to them. Without further ado, please select the photo that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (Pile 1-6)

Pile One: I feel like this pile has a close relationship with their mother overall. You seem to be at peace with where you are with her, but things could get even better. I feel like something that could help you and your mother get along even more is helping her around the house. She likes for the floors to be swept and mopped, towels to be folded, dishes to be washed. Your mother may be a neat freak but it’s nothing that can’t be taken care of. I also feel like buying your mother things that she would use on a daily basis could be something that improves your relationship. For example, if your mother really likes makeup, get her a lip gloss set. If she likes flowers, buy her a vase and some flowers so that she can smell the roses. It’s the thought that counts. And lastly, I feel like making your mom look good is going to improve your relationship. Not only does being a good representation of her name make her look good, but actually adding onto her beauty will strengthen your relationship. If you’re into makeup, do your mom’s makeup. If you’re into hair, do her hair. If she wants a new pair of shoes, get her that pair of shoes. This is only if you’re able to though. Don’t break the bank trying to please your mama.

If your mother is not here on this Earth, then please go all out with her grave. She wants you to decorate her grave/headstone with flowers. Clean the headstone. Wear her necklaces, bracelets and adornments. She wants you to talk about her highly. She wants you to not forget where you came from. You are wise and positive, so please continue to do what you do. Just because she is gone does not mean anything should change. She wants you to listen to your gut. If you have a little sibling, please don’t let them do anything stupid even though they can be prideful. I feel like she’s very big on morals and discipline so don’t think she isn’t clocking you from the afterlife because she is. Lastly, please speak of yourself highly. You have half of her genes and she does not appreciate it when you disrespect the physical features that you two share. Have some respect for those who have come before you.

Cards Used: Queen of Cups, Justice, The Star, 6 of Wands, The Magician, Ace of Discs.

extras: joanne the scammer. 2016 era of youtube. mother-daughter days. only child. donuts.

Pile Two: I feel like you all have a tumultuous relationship with your mother. It feels like you’re a rebel and you do not like to follow the rules. You and your mother could never see eye-to-eye once you turned a certain age. Perhaps, it was around age 12? I feel like you and your mother need to consider counseling. It would help a lot to have a mediator with the two of you. This energy is like an episode of Maury or Steve Wilkos. I think that you may be LGBTQ+ as well. Your mother may not completely accept this part of you. Now usually, I am against the whole “They’re from a different time stance” but your mom feels out of reach to you. I am literally seeing two people on opposite sides of a grassy land. One person is reaching for the other but the other person is minding their business. She wants to understand you but her bossiness can get in the way. I say to just be patient with her. I feel like one thing that you can do is invite her to a place that you frequent often for fun just so she can get a taste of what you do everyday. I am channeling this movie called ‘The Aggressives’. One of the mascs’ mother was so convinced that she would end up with a man but that obviously wasn’t the case. By the end, she just ended up accepting her daughter for who she is. You two are definitely on opposite sides of the spectrum. I feel like another thing that you could do is play video games with her, which is weird? This can help build teamwork amongst you two, thus forming a better bond in the end.

If your mother is deceased, I feel like you should be taking more risks. Stop giving a fuck about the rules and just live your life. There is nothing wrong with changing up your routine. Your mother could have been a rebel or even someone who led a revolution. Your mother wants you to walk away from what you once knew. Deep inside, you are someone who is capable of making great changes just as she did. I feel like your mother just wants you to embrace the inner youth inside of you. You’re too rigid. It’s affecting the way that you live. You have too much couth. It’s okay to play and let loose a little bit. She will still love you just the same as she did when she was alive if you change. Overall, embrace change babe! Dye your hair a different color. Take a spontaneous trip. Go to that concert. Please just do something! Get out of freeze mode!

Cards Used: The Fool, 6 of Swords, The Hermit (RX), 5 of Swords, Queen of Swords, 7 of Discs, Wheel of Fortune, The Hierophant (RX).

extras: minor headaches. igor (2019). odd future fan. beast. the bear (2022). absent father.

Pile Three: I feel like you have this certain image of your mother in your head. You think that she is perfect but she is not, my dear. There are certain things that she has been through/experienced that she hasn’t even told you about. You do not know her the way you think you do. She has stories for days. She is not an angel. I feel like you need to get to know your mother. She is an interesting character. Ask her about her life story. Ask her about the experiences that have shaped her into the woman that she is today. You need to take her off of the pedestal that you have put her on. Take a step into reality, boo. I think that doing stuff like going out by the water or going fishing will help you guys bond to understand each other better. Yes, she used to change your diapers but if someone walked up to you and asked what your mother figure’s favorite color was, would you be able to answer it? It’s time to change that. I feel like traveling with your mother, whether it’s a road trip or by plane will help as well. I am channeling the movie Tammy (2014) with Melissa McCarthy. I recommend you watch this movie. Don’t underestimate your mother anymore!

If your mother is deceased, I feel like she wants you to know that she looks back on memories between the two of you fondly. I think she may have passed when you were too young to remember or it was before you hit puberty. You should ask the people who knew her best about what she was like, how she felt about motherhood, how she felt about you, etc. She does not regret anything in her lifetime. That says a lot about how she lived her life. If you have access to these, find any diaries, photos, old clothes, etc and put them in a place where no one can find them. If you find some old clothes, wear them and don’t let anyone else do that. Your mother wants you to be on the straight and narrow path though. Even though you may not know her like the back of your hand, she’s been watching you grow into the person that you are today from a place that you cannot see. But she will not judge if you stray away from this path, she understands what it’s like to be young and dumb. Overall, your mother just wants what is best for you.

Cards Used: 6 of Swords, Temperance, 3 of Wands, 7 of Swords (RX), King of Cups.

extras: beaver. morehouse college. air out your grievances. gummy bear song. sepia filter.

Pile Four: Stop hanging out with your significant other so much! You need to learn how to balance between familial obligations and romantic obligations. I feel like this is really the only thing that is getting in between you and your mother’s relationship. I feel like this pile listens to Jhene Aiko a lot. I am channeling Never Call Me. I think your mom would show up to your s/o’s house unannounced with a bunch of people behind her if you don’t keep in contact with her regularly. She does not play about you at all. It’s not really an overbearing thing. I think she just doesn’t want you to go down the path that she went down with your father. So speak up or face the consequences, love. I also think that you should hear her out when it comes to certain advice especially if it has something to do with a car. Maybe you let your s/o borrow your car too much or you let your car battery almost die or something? In this case, mother knows best. She’s not a chip on your shoulder. Just listen!

If your mother is deceased, I feel like she may have died around the same time as your father figure. She also could have died at the same time as your father figure. Your father could have been the reason she died. She wants you to be independent. Learn how to change your own tires. Take up some gym classes/self-defense classes. Don’t be willfully clueless. She also wants you to not be anyone’s ride or die. This may be the reason why she passed away. I feel like you’ve heard countless versions of how your mother chose to live her life, it isn’t completely true. Don’t believe the hype. One day, you will come across the full story. Definitely be single until you are ready to marry. Your mother could have been rushed to marry. She does not want to see you get taken advantage of like she was. Don’t hesitate to dedicate an altar to her. She wants to talk to you. She may have even popped up in your dreams before.

Cards Used: 6 of Discs (RX), Ace of Swords, 2 of Wands, The High Priestess, The Devil, Two of Cups, Queen of Wands.

extras: gang culture. setup. grooming. pirates. shoddy apartment. purple bandana.

Pile Five: Have you ever considered getting plastic surgery so that you would look different from your mother? I am specifically getting an eyelift, nose job, butt implants, etc. I am channeling the energy of Blac Chyna and Tokyo Toni. I think that you and your mom have a toxic relationship. One day you’re good. The next day you’re fighting to be heard by her. You two could have physically fought before. What I am hearing is “Everyone has a story”. I feel like your guides want you to take into consideration her backstory. Get a little psychological here. Why does she act the way that she acts? Was she abandoned as a child? How does this play into how she treats you now? I am seeing a therapist writing in their notebook as we speak. I feel like she operates out of a lack mindset and you have outgrown that. I think that there was some type of falling out between her and your father figure. Maybe she was the side chick? Maybe she was taken advantage of at a young age? Maybe it was both. Honestly, this pile is very different from the others. You are being asked to pour into yourself. You need to put your foot down and let her know that you will be choosing the higher road. She will respect you more if you do that. I also think that you just simply need to start taking more time for yourself. You do not exist to be your mother’s punching bag. You are a human being. This pile is very different. You need to protect your peace babe.

If your mother is deceased, I feel like you guys could have argued before she died. I think that she was warning you about a particular behavior. Maybe she was telling you not to follow in your father’s footsteps and you chose not to listen. Maybe you snuck off somewhere you weren’t supposed to? Your mother did not want to control you. She just had some feelings about the choices you were making. But you make the bed that you lay in so there’s nothing that she could have done about it. I feel like you need to forgive yourself. Free yourself of the burden of your mother’s death. You cannot control fate. You need to learn how to accept certain circumstances for what they are. You can change the present moment and make things right today! It’s all about what you choose to do. No matter what though, your mother still has love for you. She forgave you a long time ago, almost as soon as she transitioned. It’s time for you to make peace with yourself, love. Take control of your future and accountability for your actions (or lack thereof).

Cards Used: The Emperor, 9 of Cups, Prince of Discs, The Moon, 5 of Wands, Ace of Cups, 7 of Swords, Judgment, The High Priestess.

extras: living vicariously. narcissist. getting high. sobbing uncontrollably. asthma attack. ambush.

Pile Six: You are not a child anymore, Pile Six. Your mother is willing to talk to you about uncomfortable topics now. You’re an adult. Treat yourself as such. I think that drinking wine with your mother and having a conversation will help you guys get along better. Day drinking, wine tasting, etc will help you guys bond in a more mature way. I feel like you and your mom could be friends if you were not mother and child. You have to see the world through an adult’s eyes now. I feel like gossiping with your mom can be beneficial for your relationship, especially if it’s about old family tea. You can be in the know now, lol. I also think that paying for dinner/lunch could be a great way to prove your maturity. Honestly, your mom just wants you to grow up. You’re there but not quite. Be the butterfly that you’re meant to be. Lowkey, you might want to start saving to move out. She’s not going to kick you out or anything but you’re going to start feeling differently about the environment that you’re in.

If your mother is deceased, please keep her updated on the latest family/friend drama lol. I feel like your mother may have had a boyfriend before she passed. I don’t know if he moved on or not but she approves of the lady he’s with now. Your mother could have had problems with conceiving/conceived at a young age. This plays into why she treated you like gold. You guys could have acted more like siblings rather than mother and child. It’s also possible that your mother could have passed at a young age (you could actually be older than your mother right now). Whatever the case may be, I feel like she wants you to finish the path that she was set to be on. Continue to honor her legacy. She could have been on the way to pursuing a degree, you should do the same but actually complete the journey. I am channeling the energy of Whitney Houston. Your mother is very animated to be honest. She wants you to embrace that energy/side of yourself. It’s in you, lol. And lastly, don’t try to hide being your mother’s child. You don’t have to be exactly like her but you are her partially. You are your own person but you just so happen to take after her mannerisms, looks, etc lol. There is nothing wrong with that. Don’t fight it.

Cards Used: Queen of Discs, The Sun, 6 of Cups (RX), Princess of Discs (RX), 3 of Cups, The Lovers.

extras: esperanza/hope. j. cole. popeye spinach. t-boz. slow jamz. 2004-2005. senior in college.

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whereserpentswalk · 5 months ago

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The Night Hunt

I need to eat. It’s not eating anymore. It doesn’t feel like thirst or hunger. It’s not something I would have understood as a human. I feel like I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t think anyone would mind if I did. My mouth is shaped so differently than it once was, I can’t move my jaws, I feel empty, I need it to fill me, and I feel empty.

The upper west side vampiric community center was cramped, getting everything it could from limited funds and real estate. The walls were white and the lighting sterile, their deadness only broken by overly enthusiastic posters. It was strange looking at the other vampires in the building, most of them seemed to be doing much better than me. Even most of the ones that ones you could tell weren’t human at a glance usually looked more human than me. It felt like everyone I saw was doing better than me, the petite girl in a black dress talking to her parents on the phone, the bearded man with cats eyes dressed in fancy clothes he had probably owned some version of for centuries, the snake mouthed person guzzling down a can of commercially sold blood like it was soda. I could assume a lot of the vampires I saw here had supportive families, and many others were old enough to be well adjusted to their lives. It almost hurt looking at vampires who could pass better than me, or who could better mask vampiric traits, this embarrassing envy, that I was a monster even by the standards of monsters.

I could have socialized, but I was too tired, and too thirsty. I had just been denied a good behavior slip by the New York State government, and thus denied a month’s supply of donated blood, and the building stopped being somewhere I wanted to be. Most vampires can’t get a good behavior slip, A lot don’t even try just because of how humiliating and restrictive life during the audit can be. A lot of them live off of relatives’ and friend’s blood, or buy it wholesale. I don’t have the option for either of those, at least not consistently.

I walked up Broadway, when I left, below the safety of the dark sky, and the calming yellow light of the windows, past the old brick buildings of a childhood that now seems alien to me. Best to get outside time in while I can, it’s summer, giving me few hours before the sun rises. It’s strange to remember when I walked down that street as a human. That deep loss of something I can remember but will never feel once more. Remembering how easy things were. When the restaurants smelled good to my body, instead of sickly sweet. It would’ve made me cry to see myself reflected in a window, if my eyes had tears to cry. To see I was the type of vampire other even other vampires shunning, too vampiric perhaps, to close to what they all fear being, too close to what they’re all accused of. I used to think of losing my humanity was a horrible fate, and now I am the bad ending for so many other nonhumans. I wonder how many of my kind’s advocates think I’m worthy of oppression. They say not all vampires look horrifying to humans, but I look horrifying to humans. They say not all vampires think violent thoughts about humans automatically, but I find myself doing that so often. They say not all vampires are weak to sunlight, or are hurt by symbols of their prior faith, but I am, and it hurts, and if acceptance means telling people it doesn’t hurt I’ll just get hurt more.

I tried to think of something to distract myself. Tried to think of friends who still cared about me, about that show I wanted to finish, tired to think about that Lord of the Rings fanfic that I wrote in middle school that I had though about on that street, on a bright day so alien to the humid night I walked through. No matter what I thought about there was always blood in the back on my mind. Even when a vampire isn’t thinking about blood directly, when they’re low, as almost fatally low as I was, it’s always able to be felt in the background. I could feel my body’s desire for blood, feel the pain and weakness of not having it. It was strange, to know that my body hurt because it wanted like, that my body only transformed into a vampire because it would have died from being bitten by one if it hadn’t. My body wanted to live as a vampire so much more than I did. My hands shook, my gate more unbalanced, more stumbling than it usually was, my twisted and inhuman mouth, the most inhuman part of my body, salivating. The staggered and almost animalistic walk must have made me look even more like a monster. The pigeons flew away when they saw me, they must have known, or maybe that’s just what pigeons are like.

My once tan skin now so pale my organs are visible, my once fit body now skinny, my brown eyes forever white, and my mouth perfectly round and unmoving and filled with sharp tooth after sharp tooth like a lamprey. All so perfect to drink blood, all built to drain blood. It hurts to think I’ll probably be in this body for centuries. The same hoodie I’d been wearing for days still covers me a bit, as does my mess of uncut hair, I don’t really have to wash these things without human oils on my body anymore. It’s not good to think too long about that fact. There is no wonder my parents would rather consider their precious daughter basically dead, than know that she lived as this. I might do the same if I had a choice. I think about when I was turned sometimes, how I didn’t get to be turned out of love, or lust, or spite, how the bite was meant to kill me, how it would have killed me if I wasn’t rushed to the hospital, or if I hadn’t fought the attacker off. I never even knew the name of the vampire who attacked me. I didn’t know why he did at the time, I assumed it was from hate, I understand now, I would never defend attacking someone like that but I understand, he was hungry, I know how it feels to want blood like how he must have. People would have had me better in their memories if I had died, nobody admits it, but it’s true, my parents convinced themselves I had on religious grounds, saying my soul had left my body, I understand why, my reputation was not tarnished.

As I walked past stores and restaurants that had closed hours earlier, saw how little the world wanted me. I wondered how I would keep existing. I remembered that my transformation has made it so I wouldn’t age, couldn’t die a natural death at all, I realized how strange it would be for me to exist in a body like the one I did for hundreds more years, thousands if I got lucky. There was the feeling that maybe I’d be murdered, most of society didn’t even want the most human passing, most privileged vampires to live, it sucked even for people who had it so much better than me, maybe I’d just die, maybe one of those monster hunter gangs would finally due me in like they always threaten to online. But what if I didn’t, what if I had to still live. If I actually had put the work in to having positive relationships with the community maybe some vampiric elder would be able to tell me. As it was I felt lost, I didn’t know what I could be doing a hundred years from where I stood. Would things be better than, for me, for us? Would I be ok?

For a moment my eye caught a girl around my age. As a human I would have felt lust for her, she had that exact look that I used to like. Glistening hair dyed a candy colored red, a pale pink Cowboy Bebop t-shirt covering her chest. I would have felt lust, or perhaps a more noble sounding attraction, but now that part of me is gone, and seeing a young healthy body like that just makes me think about what it would be like to drink her instead of making me think about being in bed with her. I knew it was wrong, but it would feel so good, to feel my mouth punch into her neck, and drain her dry. I don’t want to feel this way, the logical part of my brain doesn’t like feeling this way, but it’s a feeling in my body. When I looked at her soft skin my teeth ever so slightly extended outwards, and the tiredness from the pain of thirst temporarily ceasing as my body filled with energy, my dreaming mind fantasizing about holding her as I drank her blood, as ashamed as I am of such thoughts, as little as I’d want to ever hurt someone like her, it felt so good in the moment just to fantasize. It was the closest I still had to feeling anything sexual or romantic, as many social media posts as there are telling you it’s a myth that all vampires lose their sexual or romantic feelings, it’s true for me, I don’t even have breasts or sex organs anymore, as horrifying as that is to even acknowledge about myself. Just another thing that makes me seem less human, and just another thing that makes drinking human blood seem to desirable. I didn’t want to hurt her, just looking at her walking, she seemed so happy, so pure.

I did nothing, yet she still crossed the street. I understood, it was late, and I was a ragged looking vampire walking near her, she had a right to feel safe. I ran, as thirsty as my body was I didn’t want to be near her, and didn’t want to cause a scene.

Best to flee uptown, Time Square is filled with Faeries, and Central Park with werewolves, and neither take kindly to my kind in the places they tend to hang out. There is a safety in being human, despite all the stories of young maidens scratched up in monster’s arms, with blood contrasting on top of their pretty white skin, most monsters with ill wills are way more likely to target other species of monster rather than humans. Humans are often well armed, and well defended by the law, and so many monsters are so eager to prove their kind’s validity through their hatred of another species of monster.

My running only stopped when I had to cross the street to avoid a church. One of those big ornate ones you’d see a vampiric villain hang out in in a thriller movie, with that shining stained glass they haven’t built in generations. They say it’s not anything divine that burns vampires that are weak to holy symbols, it’s just the memory of faith that hurts, the memory of the most human of all actions. Doesn’t change the fact that the pope still says we don’t have souls. The church ghosts all fled, they floated somewhere else just from seeing me, I wanted to yell to them “What? Are you too good even to haunt me.” I didn’t of course, I didn’t want to cause a scene. Maybe I would have if I wasn’t so weak from thirst.

I can’t get blood. The state won’t give it to me. My friends would say no if I asked. I can’t afford to buy it. I dropped out of school when I was turned, there wasn’t accommodation, and late classes were hard to get. Most of the friends I still have either treat me like a tragedy to fawn over, or like I could kill them at any time, they’re only human after all. I guess that’s why they recommend socializing with other monsters. I barely look for work anymore, even well-meaning humans are uncomfortable around me, though to be fair I’ve done nothing not to make them uncomfortable, and it’s impossible to ask them to close daytime windows, or keep silver and garlic away. I spend so much time on the internet. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be this thirsty. I don’t want to look this way, and I don’t want to need blood. I never chose any of this, never chose to be bitten, never chose to be saved.

For a moment I saw another person on the street, alone with me. Some rich kid staggering drunk and barely knowing where he is, a sweatshirt from some fancy wizarding school clinging on to his body. His rosy yet pale cheeks, so vulnerable, not so privileged that he could hurt me, just privileged enough to feel like every bad though I could have towards him was punching up. He was the exact type of asshole that I’d expect to call me a slur, to be proud that wizards like him had engaged in just enough vampire hunts in the thirties and forties to be considered another type of human. But he didn’t. He didn’t notice me at all, he just sang to himself with his earbuds in and his eyes glued to his phone as he stumbled past closed stores.

I can smell blood on his lips. I remember that there is another way to quench my thirst. I’d have to drain him dry so that nobody would know. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be that type of vampire. His body is so fresh, I’d be full for like a year. I can’t stop looking at him and remembering my life. He’ll run but I can catch up to him, and he’ll taste so good. And I would be so hard to catch if I drained him to death, he’s a stranger, the case would go cold. I need blood, and he has blood, it’s like a trolly problem, you don’t need sadism to pick yourself when you’re tied to the tracks. And I can’t think of another way I could get blood before starving to death. It feels weird to grab his wrist as he struggles, too thirsty to think too deeply. I don’t want to look at his face when he screams, but something deep within me is excited to hear a human scream. I feel sorry for him I think, he didn’t deserve this, I didn’t deserve this, if things were different… well they aren’t different. God my voice sounds demonic with this mouth. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

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thecraftydragonc · 7 months ago

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Hello everyone, I am opening up donation commissions! Specifically for these donation drawings the cause I want to focus on is the ongoing genocide and humanitarian crisis in Palestine. It is more important than ever to donate to help Palestinians as Israel's attacks only get worse by the hour. It may be easy to feel disconnected from something happening on the other side of the world, or that there’s nothing you can do to help. However, even just a small act of kindness can change someone's life. I know this small donation campaign won’t single handedly change the world, but I am hoping it can be that small act of kindness that someone needs right now.

So, how will this Donations for Drawings campaign work? It’s pretty simple, you donate to a cause that helps Palestinians and I will draw something for you! The more you donate, the better the drawing will be, but no donation is too small! This campaign will run for 2 weeks from 5/29 to 11:59pm PST on 6/12. Additionally the campaign won’t end until we reach the goal of at least $100 in donations (but we can go over the $100 goal in the 2 week timeline). I am accepting donations to family fundraisers, eSims, and donations to organizations/charities, however escape funds and eSims are a priority right now. If you need help figuring out where to donate, here are some options. This isn’t every fundraiser out there but it’s a good place to start.

Family Fundraisers (These are all vetted fundraisers): Gaza Funds (If you’re having trouble deciding on a family to donate to this site will automatically suggest a fundraiser when you open it) Operation Olive Branch Help Gaza Gaza Evacuation Relief Fund fundsforgaza | Instagram | Linktree

eSims: https://gazaesims.com/

Organizations/Charities: PCRF CareForGaza Supporting Displaced Families in Gaza https://piousprojects.org/campaign/2680 State of Palestine | World Food Programme Doctors Without Borders The National Emergency Appeal: Medical Aid for Palestinians Crips for eSims for Gaza | Chuffed | Non-profit charity and social enterprise fundraising (if you can’t donate an eSim yourself you can donate here)

Once you donate you need to send proof of your donation to me. This can be done through a direct message or this google form https://forms.gle/bUzTb4bgCefc3Wec8. Proof of donation should include a timestamp, what type of donation you made, and how much you donated. Please remove or blackout any personal identification or banking information. Also, specifically for eSim donations you must also show that you forwarded the eSim to [email protected]. I am only accepting donations made during 5/29 or later.

For the drawings themselves, I am up for drawing anything (though I’m best at drawing dragons), Oc’s or Canon characters, just nothing that is NSFW, gore, or has hateful imagery. In your message please include a link to the character's profile (like a toyhouse page or wiki for canon characters) and/or include a reference image. The more you donate the better the drawing will be! Images of Palestinian solidarity can also be included in the drawing for free if you’d like, just specify that in your message. Additionally, these drawings will likely be posted to promote this donation campaign as well as donating to Palestinian causes in general. I can either tag you in these uploads or you can remain anonymous if you wish.

Thank you for reading all of the info for the donation commission! If you have any questions feel free to ask.

Additionally, if you want to help Palestinians but unfortunately can’t donate, there are still so many ways you can help! You can participate in boycotts https://bdsmovement.net/get-involved/what-to-boycott, do your daily click https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/, call and email your representatives to demand a ceasefire, and keep yourself educated by listening to Palestinian voices and learning from resources like https://decolonizepalestine.com/.

#Donations for Drawings #donations for palestine #donations for gaza #palestine #free gaza #free palestine #donation commissions #artists for palestine #dragon #dragon art #my art #important #Sorry this one isn't described at the moment #Also just realized there's kind of a gap between the $5 and $20 price points #At $10 would probably be a chibi headshot #Any hateful messages will be ignored or blocked :)

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flecks-of-stardust · 6 months ago

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Donation Commissions for Palestine (PAUSED)

I am opening commissions in exchange for donations to any particular fundraiser I choose for any given day. I am not asking you to donate to me. Payment involves showing proof of donation to the selected channels, and we will discuss from there.

I am opening commissions primarily for writing and fiber arts patterns. If you are unfamiliar with my written work, my old pinned post has links to the work I've done in the past. Additionally, my AO3 is flecks_of_stardust. I am focusing on fanfiction for writing commissions.

The general run down of this process is as follows: You have the option to donate to either the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund or a selected fundraiser for the day. I will change the fundraiser selected for any particular day at 11 am Pacific Time. The selected fundraiser is chosen from the Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List. To commission me, you must donate to either the PCRF or the chosen fundraiser and send proof of donation to me through DMs. Please ensure that the fundraiser you donate to matches the one I have selected for today. Once I have received proof of your donation, we can discuss the commission.

More specifics on donations are under the cut.

The fundraiser for now is for the Abu Ramadan family.

General Policies

I am but one person, so there are limits to what I can do. For each donation category, there are a limited number of commission slots that can be taken up. Once those slots are filled up, I will temporarily close commissions for that category. Proof of donation is accepted based on the time you DM me. However, if all my slots are taken, even if you have sent me appropriate proof of donation, I cannot take on your commission until a slot is open. I will notify you when I've taken on your commission should this happen to you.

In the event that this happens to anyone, I will list the overflow slots next to the commission slots. Overflow slots indicate how many people have shown me proper proof of donation, but are not currently having their commission being worked on. This is an estimate of how long it may take for me to get to your commission.

Some notes and rules that apply to all the commission categories:

Donation to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund does not include the processing fee. You must donate the whole dollar to PCRF. This means that if you're donating only a dollar, your actual charge is going to be around 1.35 USD. Keep this in mind for the donation categories; if less than 1 USD goes to PCRF, I cannot accept your donation. Similarly, PCRF must receive at least 2 USD in full for me to accept your donation for the lowest writing commission category.

I will not make anything involving NSFW content, but I am okay with a certain extent of gore and violence. Discuss it with me. I have the right to refuse to create anything I'm uncomfortable with, but I am willing to negotiate.

You will not get anything extra from donating more than the commission category you're asking for, but it's very kind of you if you choose to do so.

I am extremely aromantic. Please keep that in mind if you want me to create something romantic. It is highly likely I cannot deliver, and I recommend you ask someone else.

Do not send me an ask with proof of donation. I need a reliable means to discuss with you, and an ask is not that. You have to DM me. You may request to communicate over Discord if you already know what my username is there, but primarily I will be communicating through Tumblr DMs.

Though all prices are listed in USD, I do not need you to pay in USD. This is just a relative measure of pricing. If your native currency is not USD and/or the payment doesn't display in USD, please let me know what it is so I can confirm how much you've donated.

I will refuse all offers for extensions. While the gesture is sweet, my goal is to get more donations out, not to polish every commission I do to the best I could manage. Quantity over quality, if you will. While I'll make sure to make my commission pieces as high quality as I can manage, if you're really concerned about the quality of what I create, I suggest you commission someone else.

In general, these are the media I am comfortable doing commissions for:

Hollow Knight

Rain World (Downpour included)

Bug Fables

If you'd like to request something that isn't on this list, note that I will only be accepting commission requests for fan media that I am familiar with, and where an exchange of money is allowed. One example is Team Cherry's explicit permission for small scale selling of fan merch. If I cannot confirm it and you do not show me proof that it is allowed, I will refuse your request.

If you at any point violate the rules I have stated in this post and any additional rules I may issue upon discussion of the commission, I reserve the right to refuse future requests to take your commissions even with proper proof of donation. If you do not respect my time and energy, I will not entertain you.

If you are unable to donate yourself, please spread this post around, and I welcome you to follow my lead! There's more than one way to get donations to the people that need it.

Writing (0/3)

Because I want to get through these commissions fast, I will not be spending more than 3 days or 12 total writing hours, whichever comes first, on each commission. I will be churning out these commissions as fast as possible while maintaining as satisfactory a level of writing quality as I can manage. To reflect this, the word counts and the prices for each word count are relatively low:

2 USD - approximately 500 words (hard limit 800) [must donate to PCRF due to donation limitations]

5 USD - approximately 1000 words (hard limit 1500)

10 USD - approximately 2000 words (hard limit 2500)

In the interest of time, I will not be taking original fiction requests. I will allow OCs, but you must let me know specifics on how you'd like me to write them. I am most confident working with canon characters, but please specify the type of characterization you want if you don't want me to use my own characterization.

Once the commission is complete, the completed work will be posted to a Donations for Palestine collection on AO3 unless you decline it. Additionally, you are discouraged from posting the finished commission in public spaces, but if you do so, then you must credit me without making edits to my writing. If you post it on Tumblr, please tag me in your post.

Fiber Arts Patterns (0/2)

I'm also willing to provide you with crochet or knitting amigurumi patterns. I will not send you the finished product. I will, however, send a picture of the finished product alongside the pattern. I will spend a maximum of 10 days on each pattern, and the resulting product will not be larger than 4"x4"x4"/10cmx10cmx10cm in approximate size. Pricing guidelines are as follows:

Baseline price: 12 USD

3 or more colors on the design: +3 USD (be warned that I may not have these colors)

Knitted pattern: +5 USD

I am most comfortable making little animals, and am significantly more familiar with crocheting little dolls than I am with knitting them, though I'm willing to try my hand at that too. I will also try my best to make characters from the above listed media; if you've browsed my crochet and knitting tags, you'll see that I've already made many characters from these franchises, but in much larger dimensions. If I think I'll need the doll to be bigger than my listed dimension limits for the pattern to be viable, I will refuse your request. In either case, please provide a reference picture/drawing of what you'd like me to make, and I'll match it as closely as I'm able to.

The pattern will be delivered to you through a File Garden link to a PDF; please download this PDF, as I may accidentally delete the link later on. Once you have received the pattern, you are not allowed to post it in public spaces. You may, however, post the finished product created from the pattern with credit to me. If you post it on Tumblr, please tag me in the post.

Bonus: Shitty Doodles

If you have less than 2 USD lying around but would still like to donate something, you can still show me proof of donation to PCRF of whatever amount that is for a shitty 10 minute doodle of anything you choose. I will set a timer for 10 minutes and scribble as fast as I can, and what comes out the other side is your commission piece. Do note that this will be a pencil sketch. While I have drawn in the past and consider myself a semi-decent visual artist, it is very much not my forte, hence why I'm not offering it as a serious commission. But if you're down for it, I'm willing to do this too. Just don't expect it to have any sort of quality. Be as ridiculous as you want (as long as you adhere to the above rules)! This is meant to be silly, so pretty much anything goes.

If you have any further questions or concerns, shoot me an ask or a DM. These guidelines will likely be refined as I gain more experience with this.

Major edit on July 10th: I finally noticed that the donation limit for GFM is 5 USD minimum. I have updated the guidelines to allow donation to PCRF as well.

#rain world #bug fables #hollow knight #downpour #palestine donations

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

Text

All These Years [Part 14: "Day Late Friend"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: I feel like it goes without saying that this one will probably hurt. There's like a tiny bit of comfort in here, but I think everything else vastly outweighs that. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks

Sitting on the countertop in your kitchen, you were hunched over your phone scrolling through this morning's current news articles. You were exhausted and your entire body ached from having spent last night at Karen’s place sleeping on her couch because your apartment was entirely empty now.

Most of the furniture you’d had at your apartment had been donated because you did not want to deal with the hassle of moving all of it across the country. It’s not like you couldn’t afford new things with the massive pay increase you were getting with your new position, even if your new LA apartment’s rent was a bit more expensive than your Hell’s Kitchen apartment had been. Though you’d had movers pack up a handful of your items the other day, along with whatever you had packed in boxes that you hadn’t kept in the luggage bag you were going to check with you on the plane when you left. Your things that were being transported across the country via moving truck were supposed to be at your new place by this afternoon.

Because today was the day. You had a very long flight to LA soon that you were about to catch–a little over a six hour flight to be exact. You’d ordered a car to take you to the airport just a few minutes ago and now all you were doing was waiting, trying to kill time while you ignored the sinking feeling in your gut. You were going to miss New York and the friends you had here–including Matt, even if you were still incredibly pissed at him. But you'd promised yourself repeatedly that you would make this move no matter what because you needed it.

Last night you’d spent the evening at Karen’s, though Foggy had come over for a bit while you’d been there. But you’d made it clear that you wanted neither of them to invite Matt, still not wanting to see him after what had happened at Josie’s. Foggy had tried to convince you otherwise a few times, urging you to tell Matt it was your last night here because he said Matt had been needing to talk with you. Foggy was practically begging you to give Matt a chance to say goodbye, but you just couldn’t do it. After hearing him just days ago talking about the idea of marrying Erica, and then being so cruel to you in return when you’d pointed out how little he’d thought it all out– especially after everything he’d put you through knowing you’d always been in love with him–you felt he didn’t deserve your time. Why put yourself through more heartache for his sake? You weren’t planning to see him ever again anyway. You figured it was time to look out for yourself.

The whole evening you figured Foggy was shooting Matt texts on and off with the way he’d been on his phone. You’d done your best to ignore it, though part of you felt bad for not offering Matt a chance to see you one last time. He’d probably wanted to apologize for his behavior at Josie’s the other night, but what did it matter? You always caved when it came to Matt; you knew you'd ultimately accept whatever apology he gave you. You loved him–sometimes without a care to yourself and your own feelings.

And that had to change.

With a sigh you opened another news article, your eyes briefly flicking up towards the time on your phone. It felt like time was dragging on this morning. Your ride to the airport was still another fifteen minutes away and you internally cringed. Admittedly you were getting anxious sitting here with nothing to do but wait and sit in your thoughts.

A series of frantic knocks came from your apartment door, the noise breaking through the silence in your apartment and drawing your attention from your phone. You frowned, turning and looking at your door all the way across the apartment from where you sat in the kitchen. Who would be stopping by your place right now? Unless it was your overly friendly neighbor next door, the elderly Mrs. Meyers. You’d already told her goodbye three times yesterday, but maybe she’d somehow forgotten again.

Sliding off the counter, you slipped your phone into your jean pocket and made your way over. But the moment you heard Matt’s voice desperately calling your name from the other side of it, you immediately froze on the spot.

What the hell was Matt doing here?

A mix of emotions immediately flooded you–anger, sadness, heartache, guilt. But worst of all of them was that stupid little sliver of hope. You flinched when you heard him call your name through your door again.

"Please," he begged. "I know you're in there. Just let me talk to you. Please. Give me five minutes. Just–just five minutes, please ."

This wasn't exactly the way you wanted to leave New York. That familiar ache was in your chest again and the feel of it hurt . Arms crossing over your chest, you nervously hugged yourself tight as if that would somehow help keep that ache from spreading through the rest of you.

"Matt, I don't want–"

" Please ," he pleaded.

His voice had sounded so small and weak from behind the door, the sound of it causing your eyes to close. Your hands gripped the fabric of your shirt as you fought the urge to cry. Something you'd become all too familiar with when it came to Matt.

"There's something you need to know," Matt tried again, his voice filled with emotion. "And I don't–don't want to say it to your door."

With a shuddering exhale, you opened your eyes and tried to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen. Crossing the rest of the way to the door, you gradually unlocked it before pulling it open. Matt stepped back instantly, as if he’d been pressed up against it waiting for you. You were surprised to see his glasses were hanging from the collar of his dark green tee-shirt. Matt always wore them around you lately, so it had been jarring to be immediately greeted with the open vulnerability on his face and in his eyes.

"You have five minutes," you told him, stepping aside and waving him in.

And really he did, because your car would be here in probably ten minutes.

Matt made his way inside, a pained look on his face as he stepped past you. You grit your teeth together as you shut the door behind him, turning and squaring your shoulders as you faced him. You didn’t know what to expect, but you had a strong feeling whatever it was he needed to tell you was going to leave you in tears.

Matt said your name again, that vulnerable look on his face. "I am so unbelievably sorry about the other night," he began in a rush, emotion heavy in his voice as he spoke. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, it was wrong. I was out of line. You had every reason to yell at me like that. I deserved it–I deserve worse . I had–had no idea how much you were hurting and how awful what I’d said really was. It was insensitive and stupid of me and I–"

He abruptly cut off, his brows drawing together in what looked like confusion. Your own face slowly contorted into a look of confusion itself at the words in his apology. How could he not know how much you'd been hurting? He knew you loved him, of course him saying those things had been hurtful, especially considering what he’d told you right before about Erica.

Matt's head snapped to the side and your eyes narrowed as you watched him, his curious movements interrupting your thoughts. You watched as his head darted around a few times, his eyes beginning to water as you saw them scanning your completely empty apartment.

"No," he whispered, his watery gaze returning to you. "No, don't tell me your things are gone already? You've already packed?"

"I'm moving, Matt," you stated flatly, trying to ignore the way that look on his face was affecting you. "Of course my things are gone."

"When?" he pressed. "Saturday? Sunday?"

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat at the blatant look of panic quickly crossing his features. Why did he look so scared?

"In ten minutes," you answered, tone softening. "I have a car coming to bring me to the airport soon. My flight is at eleven."

Surprise briefly flickered across his face, his dark brows rising up onto his forehead as his lips parted. But then you watched as his face completely crumpled in on itself, tears streaming out of his eyes almost instantly. You stood there in stunned silence, unsure what to make of his reaction. You knew he would be upset about you leaving, but the only time you’d seen Matt cry like this before was when Elektra had broken his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “I thought I had more time. I’m sorry.”

With the sight of Matt standing there and crying before you, you couldn’t fight the tears that had begun to slowly burn in your own eyes. You wiped a hand at them, trying to erase them before they could fall.

“Foggy said he told you I was leaving,” you pointed out. “You knew I was leaving, Matt. That I had taken a new position and was moving.”

He nodded solemnly, sniffling hard. “He did, but he never told me the day. Just told me I had to see you this morning. And now I–”

You watched in utter confusion as Matt’s sentence broke off right in the middle, his hands coming up as he rubbed the heels of them against his eyes. What sort of a goodbye apology was this?

“I was wrong all this time,” Matt began, his hands still rubbing at his eyes as if that would make the tears stop. “It’s all my fault. I have spent the past few days going back and trying to make sense of it all– everything . For years. Just–just all of it. Every moment.”

Your brows drew further together on your forehead as you stared back at him. What the hell was he talking about? Why had he come barging over to your apartment spouting nonsense? Why was he so emotional?

“I thought it was Foggy,” he said firmly, his hands lowering from his face. His sightless eyes locked on you as he continued. “I always thought it was Foggy .”

“What?” you asked him. “What’re you talking about, Matt? You thought what was Foggy?”

“The friend you were in love with,” he replied earnestly. “The one you’d told me about a few times at Columbia. The one I knew you were hurting over, that you hadn’t ever gotten over in years . Who you’d cried about that night in the alley when I’d found you drunk and hurting. I always thought it was Foggy .” He winced, shaking his head as he whispered, “I never thought that it was–that it even could be me .”

His words hit you hard and you stood there in absolute shock–Matt thought you’d loved Foggy all of this time? Your mouth fell open as you gaped at him, your brain only wondering one thing.

“ How ?” you asked in confusion. “With what you can do, how did you think I was in love with Foggy?”

Tears were still falling down his cheeks as he took another step towards you, one hand reaching up to wipe them away as his eyes never left you. You still stood frozen on the spot, your arms even further tightening around your chest in response to everything he was telling you. Because what did that mean ? Why had he come here to tell you this? Why now?

“I–I misread so much,” he told you. “When I first ran into you in the library, I picked up on your physical attraction to me–all the telltale signs. And when you gave me your number and agreed to meet up, I thought it meant you liked me. But then that night you came over and Foggy was there–you both hit it off. I tried to give it some time, hoping I was wrong somehow, but it felt like your body was reacting to him . Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me.” Matt shot you a sad, watery smile. “I was still very new to understanding women and relationships, I’ll be honest. I was fresh out of a Catholic orphanage when I went to Columbia. Besides picking up on signs of obvious physical attraction, I’ll admit, I was clueless. And I–I clearly read you very wrong the whole time.”

“But–” you began, pausing to piece together everything yourself. “But Matt, how did you not know? I tried to flirt with you that night when I first came over to your apartment with Foggy and Karen for dinner. It was a terrible attempt but I thought it was pretty fucking obvious. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you heard me at Clinton Church for weeks crying over you. You , Matt, not Foggy. How did it never suddenly click ? How did you never realize you’d gotten it wrong?”

“Because Elektra had often put it into my head that you were always staring at Foggy like you were in love with him,” Matt answered vehemently. “And it’s not like I can see otherwise. I trusted her–and I realized far too late that I shouldn’t have, but I did. Her words about you being in love with him only further proved in my mind that it was true.” His tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips before he continued on in an emotional rush. “And that night you came over more than a year ago, I wasn’t sure if you were flirting with me or not. Something had seemed off with you that day. There was a–a part of me that hoped you were, but I couldn’t be sure. I tried to reach out to you, but you’d distanced yourself from me for weeks after. I figured I’d misunderstood the situation. And…by the time everything happened with Midland Circle, I’d thought you’d already admitted to me that night you found out about my secret that you loved Foggy all this time.” He shrugged weakly, his face further falling. “After that night, I never bothered to question it again.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest so hard you swore you could feel it. Each and every sharp and thundering pound of it. So Matt hadn’t known you’d loved him all this time. Which meant he’d found out when you’d yelled at him the other night at Josie’s. Eyes immediately going wide, you sucked in a breath.

“Holy shit, so you didn’t–” you paused, taking a mortified step back from him, “–you didn’t know? And I–I blurted it out the other night?”

The sad, watery smile was still on Matt’s face as he nodded slowly in response. Something like a strangled cry fell out of you as you spun on your heel, burying your face in your hands. Embarrassment burned through your entire being. Shrinking in on yourself, you wished the floor would just swallow you whole.

“Why’re you coming here to tell me this?” you cried out, that sharp pain in your chest slamming right into you. “Fuck, this is so incredibly embarrassing , Matt. I thought you knew !”

“Sweetheart,” Matt said softly.

You stiffened at the term of endearment. He’d called you that once before, that night you’d found out about his big secret. The sound of his footsteps grew nearer but you kept your face buried in your hands.

“I came here to tell you that I have wanted you for years,” he whispered, his voice sounding like it was coming from just behind you. “The first time I stumbled across you it wasn’t at the library–I stumbled on you almost two months before that. On campus. Someone had dropped all their books and papers on the sidewalk and you’d stopped to help them. And I–I don’t know what it was about you, but I couldn’t get your voice and your scent and your kind words out of my head.”

Matt’s hand landed on your shoulder, the touch incredibly light and barely there. It felt like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. As he continued on, your heart only further beat wildly against your ribcage at his words.

“I spent weeks trying to run into you again,” Matt confessed. “Trying to just find you again–any trace of you at all. I couldn’t let you go. That day I met you in the library felt like sheer luck. I had been so stunned myself that you’d appeared to me finally that I’d accidentally ran into you.”

Your hands slowly lowered from your face, your head gradually turning over your shoulder to look at Matt just behind you. That sad smile crossed his lips again when he realized you were looking at him, tears still glistening in his eyes.

“What’s that mean, Matt?” you whispered.

“It means I’ve always wanted you,” he replied just as softly. “You’re the only one I’ve always wanted.”

Goosebumps rose along your arms at his admission. How long had you desperately hoped for him to say those words to you? How many times had you pictured this moment in your head? Wondered what it would feel like for him to want you back?

“What about Elektra?” you whispered. “And Erica? You were just telling me you wanted to marry her, Matt. How the hell do you say that and then come here and tell me this?”

“I fell hard for Elektra in college,” Matt admitted. “I thought maybe I loved her. She was the only one who knew about that other side of me. What I could do. I thought she–she got me. Understood me. But my feelings for you had never gone away, and I thought maybe I could try to make them disappear with her. But it turned out she didn’t understand me at all, and clearly she saw how much you meant to me because she fed me lies about you loving Foggy.”

“What about the second time you were with her?” you asked, cringing at the question.

Matt immediately shook his head, his sightless eyes still focused along your face. His hand gripped your shoulder a little firmer.

“I was never with her when she came back,” he assured you. “ Never .”

“And Erica?” you pressed.

Your back was still turned towards him as he spoke, but you saw the frown settle onto his face. It felt like your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to explain.

“You had been with Adam for awhile,” he began, hurt clear in his tone. “So I thought maybe you’d finally gotten over Foggy, because you seemed happy with him. And as much as it broke my heart seeing you with Adam, I was truly happy for you. He was a nice guy. He treated you well. And as much as I wished it could’ve been me in his place, I was glad that you weren’t hurting anymore–or at least, I thought you weren’t.” He sighed, his eyes dropping down to the floor as he released your shoulder, his hand running across his forehead instead. “But I knew I’d never have you and I was lonely. That’s when Marci introduced me to Erica and we–we got along. Eventually I developed feelings for her–nothing that even remotely compared to how I feel about you, but I figured I’d never find that again. And things were…admittedly convenient ,” he said with a shameful grimace. “She was often working so she had no clue about me being out most nights as Daredevil. Which meant for once, Daredevil wasn’t an issue in my love life.”

“But Matt–”

“Look, I know it was stupid to think I could continue in a relationship like that, but I was hopeful,” he confessed. “I was lonely and I was hopeful that I’d have time to make things work with a long engagement. And as much as I–I wanted you , I was positive I’d never have you. And what I had with Erica seemed like it–it wouldn’t be so bad as an alternative. So I’d been thinking about proposing and that was why I was hoping to talk to you and Fog.” He shrugged a shoulder lightly, a deep frown on his face. “I was hoping both of you would help me look at things realistically, because you’re both my best friends. You know me.”

Your eyes narrowed at Matt as you finally turned partially towards him. “Then why did you get angry at me when I told you how ridiculous it all sounded?” you asked.

“Because I could feel your anger,” he whispered. “And I didn’t understand it. I got defensive because it–it hurt hearing you say those things to me. Because I have–have loved you for so long and you were the one I wanted and couldn’t have. But I shouldn't have said those things to you in anger and I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I was hurt and I was stupid and I reacted without thinking.” His lips pressed together, the tears that had been glistening in his eyes quickly spilling forth. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so much over the years.”

You were struck speechless, still stuck on the part where he’d admitted to loving you. Matt was in love with you?

“I ended things with her, too,” he continued, the tears still falling. “The first chance I got after that night. Because I want you.”

Almost as if in slow motion you watched as Matt’s hand reached up, very carefully reaching out to gently cradle your cheek in the palm of his hand. You could feel your entire body trembling at the affectionate touch–it was so far from friendly. It reminded you of the night you’d been with him after graduation when he’d touched you so similarly. You understood now what had almost happened that night, and the fact that nothing had only added to the heartache. Because you were quickly realizing that you both had come close to admitting the truth so many times before only to end up here–with years wasted and hearts hurting.

“I want you,” he breathed out, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. His eyes were slowly scanning your face, as if somehow committing you to memory in his own way as his lips pulled into that sad smile again. "I've only ever wanted you, sweetheart."

A sob fell out of you as you turned fully towards him, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist and drawing yourself into him without a thought. Matt was quick to encircle his own arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly to the front of himself as you felt him burying his face into your hair. Your fingers clawed at his back through the thin fabric of his tee-shirt, desperately holding onto him as you cried. From the pocket of your jeans, you heard your phone alert you to a notification you'd received. No doubt it was the car you’d ordered finally arriving, ready to bring you to the airport. That thought only had you clinging tighter to Matt as you sobbed against his chest.

“Why did you wait so long?” you cried out, face buried into his chest. “Why now, Matt? Why did you have to tell me all of this when I'm leaving?”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, voice breaking on the apology. “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes snapped shut tight, tears soaking the front of his shirt. Your nails were digging into Matt’s back, clawing at him with how hopelessly you tried to hang on to him.

“I–I want to ask you to stay,” he whispered, his face still buried into your hair where his tears were dampening the strands. “I want to beg you to. Tell you I would do anything to keep you here–because I would. Happily. Ten times over. But I know I have no right to ask that of you, sweetheart.”

"You're right," you breathed out, your body molding itself to the front of him. "You don't."

You hated that you'd found out Matt had loved you all of this time at this exact moment instead of weeks ago–months or even years ago when things could have gone differently. Because you had already accepted that job and you'd already gotten that apartment. You'd repeatedly told yourself you were leaving and doing this for yourself no matter what. And Matt coming here telling you all of this right now, as much as it made you want him even more because you now knew your feelings were returned, didn't change the fact that he had just ended a relationship with a woman he had considered proposing to only days ago. That he'd let you go on believing he was dead for months not that long ago–and that hadn't stopped hurting even if you'd forgiven him for it. And it certainly didn't change the fact that you had cried over him for years.

You'd needed a change. You needed time away. You needed space to figure things out for yourself without the constant heartache.

"Matt, I–" your eyes tightened further closed, tears still coming as your fingers desperately gripped his back, "–I have to do this. I have to move to LA. For me.” Your face remained pressed to his firm chest as you spoke, pausing just long enough to breathe in that familiar clean scent of him. You hoped you’d never truly forget it. “You just ended things with Erica days ago,” you continued quietly. “This–this isn't how I would want to start things with you. It's not right."

You heard him inhale a shuddering breath, his mouth beside your ear as he did. His hands slid down to wrap firmly around your back, his palms pressing you securely to himself. You could feel his own fingers digging into you through your shirt, his own desperate need to keep you close only making your tears fall faster. In that moment, you knew he’d been hurting just as much as you always had been. Somehow you could feel it in the tears of his that fell, mingling with yours along your skin, and the sharp, ragged breaths he was clearly trying to control.

"I know," he whispered, voice strained. “You deserve better.”

Reluctantly you slowly pulled away from him, your heart twisting in your chest at the absolute broken state of Matt before you. With a loud sniffle, you pulled your phone from your pocket and saw that you did have a notification for the car you’d called. You responded to it, pressing your trembling lips firmly together as you tried to compose yourself. You needed to leave or you’d miss your flight.

“The car is here to take me to the airport,” you whispered, slipping your phone back into your pocket before glancing up at Matt. “I–I have to go, Matty.”

Matt nodded, his hands roughly wiping at his eyes. “Can I walk you out?” he asked. “Please?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I just need to grab my bag.”

Walking past Matt, you made your way towards your kitchen to the lone piece of luggage that was sitting right where you’d left it. You slid the handle of it out before turning and shuffling your way across the room and back over to Matt. He was clearly trying to take the moment to compose himself, but he didn’t seem very successful with the way his tears were still falling. When you neared him, he timidly held out a hand towards you and you paused, staring at it as your heart unsteadily beat in your chest. A second later you hesitantly reached out, slipping your hand into his. Matt’s face momentarily lit up as he tried to smile at you, his large hand reassuringly squeezing yours.

You sent him a small smile in return before you guided the pair of you out of your apartment, leaving it for the last time. The sound of the door closing behind you both was louder and harsher than usual as you led Matt down the hall and towards the elevators. Neither of you said anything as you waited for it to reach your floor, and neither of you said anything as you both stepped inside. Though as the elevator doors slid closed, Matt’s fingers entwined with yours, as if he was finding any way he could to hold onto you just a bit tighter for just a bit longer. Somehow that hurt, too.

Gradually the elevator lowered until it reached the lobby and you stepped out, your stomach roiling with nerves at the final goodbye that you could feel fast approaching. In silence you led him over towards the car that was waiting for you, politely greeting the driver who took your bag from you and stowed it in the trunk of the car. As they were getting back into the driver’s side, you finally turned and focused on Matt, your hand still enjoined with his.

The sight of him alone had your heart breaking–he still looked just as broken as that day you’d found him crying over Elektra. Except now it was because of you . Instantly the tears began streaming down your face and briefly you wondered how the hell you had a single tear left to shed after all of this time. Matt tried his best to smile at you, his other hand reaching up to wipe away your tears as they continued to fall.

“Please don’t cry, sweetheart,” Matt said gently, the calloused pad of his thumb still wiping away the wetness on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry for leaving you, Matty. For hurting you.”

Matt shook his head, that sad smile still lingering along his lips. “Don’t apologize,” he whispered. “If this is what you need, if it’ll make you happy, then I–I support you. Even if it hurts. All I want is to know you’re happy.” His thumb slid down, lightly brushing beside the corner of your lips as his sad eyes focused there. “But I’m–I’m sorry my timing with telling you how I felt was so terrible. I should have told you on graduation night like I planned to. Maybe we wouldn’t be here now.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you whispered.

Matt grimaced briefly, the corner of his mouth turning downward. “Your driver sounds irritated. I should probably uh, let you go,” he said, the last word coming out a little choked.

Stepping towards Matt, you once again wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face against the damp spot your tears had created on his tee-shirt. His own arms immediately held you to him again, his face now burying into the side of your neck. The pair of you stayed like that for a long moment, neither of you clearly wanting to let go. Your eyes closed and you relaxed into him, breathing in the scent of him. If you pushed aside what was happening right now, you could feel whatever it was you’d always felt when you hugged Matt washing over you. That warm, comforting feeling you’d told Foggy about before. The feeling you always experienced when you hugged Matt. You knew what it was now.

He felt like home.

Fresh tears welled in your eyes as Matt slowly pulled away from you, your arms once again coming to wrap tight around your chest as if that alone would keep you from shattering to pieces on the sidewalk.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you admitted weakly.

He reached a hand out, tucking some hair behind your ear as his watery gaze focused along your chin.

“Then don’t,” he replied softly. “I’ll see you again another time, sweetheart.”

His fingers lingered along your cheek, once again lightly wiping away the tears that were falling. Your heart clenched in your chest when you finally found the nerve to speak.

“I’ll miss you, Matty,” you confessed.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered, his hand falling from your face.

You stood there for a few seconds longer, trying to commit the memory of Matt to your mind. You didn’t want to forget him. Truthfully you didn’t want to leave him. Though eventually you finally turned and opened the car door, slipping into the backseat. You pulled the door shut after yourself, confirming with the driver that you were heading to the airport as you put your seatbelt on. Your attention shifted back to Matt out of the window to where he was standing on the sidewalk. His glasses were back on his face as he began unfolding the cane he’d had folded up in his back pocket.

When the car finally pulled out into traffic, your eyes remained on Matt through the back window. His face was turned towards you as the car drove away, and you swore you saw his lips moving as if he’d said something, though you couldn’t make out what. You tried to remind yourself internally why you were doing this as the sight of Matt standing on the edge of the sidewalk slowly became harder and harder to see. But when he finally was entirely out of your view, you felt something sharp hit you right in the chest. Raising a hand up, you absently rubbed at the spot just over your heart, eyes still focused out of the back window as tears filled them yet again.

[END NOTES]

End notes again, because I feel like y'all need them. Again.

Matt finally confessed!! He explained quite a bit to Reader but inevitably, she left to LA. I mean, she'd already accepted the job and had no place to stay in Hell's Kitchen for starters, but also, she did really need to take a step away from Matt and try to live her life. And it certainly wouldn't be fair to Reader to try to jump into a relationship with Matt literally days after he'd been having a discussion about possibly proposing to someone else. So Reader is leaving anyway. And there was NO KISS because honestly, I feel like kissing in that moment would just hurt both of them even more. So you're still going to be waiting on that. But I will say the beginnings of comfort will probably start after the next installment for those of you literally hanging by a thread reading this. But there will be a happy ending to this fic so things will slowly begin to turn around soon!

But now for real, I need to focus on my other fics this week. Preferably things that are less angsty like FFTD.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #matt murdock fic #daredevil

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the-masked-ram · 7 months ago

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Fics for Gaza

Here I am taking the plunge. I'm a small blog but fast writer even when it comes to my slower times. So might as well put it to good use.

Planning on joining this fundraiser run by @ficsforgaza and help make everyone happy with some content in the process. Here is my plan of action for my wip and donation costs.

To participate- please make a donation to a vetted fundraiser and send a screenshot/proof of your donation to me in a DM. PLEASE MAKES SURE TO CENSOR ALL YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION. (internet safety and all that jazz). In the message also let me know what fic you are donating to and I will adjust expected word counts. These screenshots are merely for keeping things as honest as possible and will be shared with @ficsforgaza

-I obviously will not be taking the money myself. Please send it to one of the vetted fundraisers mentioned in the link below.

$5.00 per 800 words or a full drabble series installment

Link to vetted places to donate here! More fundraisers here!

As soon as 50% of any of the fics are sponsored I will automatically start on them.

Drabble series-

Sweet and Sour- Ren Kaji x Fem Reader Drabble Series

Your the new girl in the city. You are tough, sassy, but don't know a lick about the gangs, and if your honest you couldn't care less. But something about Ren Kaji catches your eye. He may snap and bark like a feral dog, but you can see through it and he knows it too. Slowly, you become his sanctuary even though you are the one person he's most afraid won't accept him. And he thought he was past all that. (NSFW)

5.00 for full installment

Read Part One here!

False Immunity- Hiei x Fem Reader Drabble Series

Where Hiei learns the ins and out of human courtship. (NSFW)

Find Part One-Six on my masterlist here! 5.00 for full installment

Multichap Fics-

Flawed Hope- Astarion x OC (BG3)

Brit was a paralegal, someone who had a normal life and enjoyed what she did for the most part. Yet, the only true excitement she felt lately was when she played Baldur's Gate Three. A simple video game brought her more joy than her friends or fleeting romances. One night as depression crushes her she wishes to live one day in BG3. Her wish is granted, however the world of BG3 needs her far longer than her wish had originally intended. And the worst part? She does not get along with her favorite vampire in the slightest. (NSFW)

Read the first four chaps here! WC: 1961/4000

Falling for Frogs- Sebastian x Fem Reader (SDV)

You are game developer about to make their debut into the market. The world you are about to venture into isn't exactly friendly to those of the feminine persuasion and as such you have flown under the radar using a masculine alias online. After a complete mental break down at a very important convention in Zuzu you realize you need to get away from the city for a bit so you can finish your game. Your best friend who runs a farm in Stardew Valley invites you to come stay with her. However as you stay there and get to know the locals, you realize the cute boy you saw at the con is her neighbor. What's even worse is he remembers you and just to add salt to the wound, he's one of your Kickstarters. (NSFW) WC: 309/3000

Read the first three chaps here!

The Unseen and Those Forgotten- Dabi x Fem Reader (BNHA)

The age of the Greek gods is long past. Dabi is one of the few left, his name in the ancient days had been Hades. Now he skulks among the humans, as a deity at half strength. With the old gods dying, the new ones have taken control of the humans’ feeble minds. There is a storm on the horizon though, quite literally, the end of days is nipping at mortality’s heels and the key to unlocking Kronos’s resting place, the only creature strong enough to put a stop to the apocalypse, is you. Sadly you have no idea what part you will play, after all, you are just an office worker who has an affinity for plants.... WC: 0/2000

Find the first three chaps on my masterlist here!

The Hellebore Rift- Hayato Suo x Fem Reader (Wind Breaker)

The town of Makochi has changed and so have all the gangs within it. Gone are the days of allies and rival schools. Gone are the days of delinquents battling for top spots and coming home with happy smiles from good fist fights. Now the world has been ripped apart by rifts that tear the very dimensions in two, spewing forth gigantic blood-thirsty monsters. It has forced the gangs to protect only their parts of town from everyone. Even the civilians, even those they once called friends. With those rifts and monsters, humans were gifted with powers, yet everything good always comes with a fall out. You are one of those few, blessed with the ability to Guide, to save those Espers from the toxicity that their own powers created within themselves when they protect their parts of town. You live in a small section Makochi outside any of the gangs control with a scant few Espers to call your own… or well you did until the day Hayato Suo found you. WC 313/2000

(Chapter one just started)

Oneshots-

Dog Park with Megumi (no title yet)- You don't have dogs but you find yourself at the dog park everyday because you can't have pets. That's where you meet Megumi Fushiguro (NSFW)WC: 0/15000

A Bouquet of Deadly Thorns- Hanahaki Soulmate Gojo x Fem Reader

The world now is riddled with the phenomenon known as soulmates. You don't know yours but before you can even think about finding them, you must get rid of your growing feelings for Satoru Gojo, the only problem is they've grown suffocating and you've started coughing up blood and flower petals. (NSFW) WC: 3098/8000

Tetsuro Kuroo bar night (no title yet)- The first night you meet Kuroo he was celebrating with his friends who'd just won their volley ball game. You were drinking away your sorrows yet again from another shitty date. Fate had a funny way of making you forget things when he gets dared to make a move on you. (NSFW) WC: 0/10,000

My name in your mouth- Professional Poker Player!Suo Hayato x CardShark Fem!Reader Suo Hayato is well known in the gambling circuit, he strikes fear in all his opponents. Terrified that they will lose all the winnings and perhaps even worse to him. You however are a dark horse, a rising star lurking in the shadows among the tables, and you have the arrogance to back it up. You take Suo on and surprise him in more ways then one. But he's desperate to wrest back control from you and the rising sexual tension between the two of you gives him the perfect excuse. (NSFW) WC: 0/7000

Single Drabbles- 5.00 for a full drabble

Jo Togame festival day (sfw) - Link

Jo Togame the baths (NSFW) - Link

Nobara/fem! reader (jjk) (NSFW) shopping day, in the dressing room

Himuro tatsuya/male! reader (knb) (NSFW) pining, street ball rivals

Seishiro Nagi/gn!reader (blue lock) (SPICEY (not full nsfw)) comfort, lazy day, reuniting after long distance for a while

Sebastain/fem! reader (SDV) (nsfw) phone sex

Astarion/male!reader (BG3) (NSFW) dry humping, semi public sex Suo Hayato/fem!reader (wind breaker)(NSFW) overstimulation

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k-howlett · 4 months ago

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H(ear)tline Prologue | Bruce Wayne [Batman] xF!Angel:reader

TW: Possible religious insensitivity, Fallen Angel, Canon-breaking OOC, eventual smut(not in this specific installment)

Rating: Gender Specific (Female Reader), Eventual Smut (Teen+/mature), SFW (Prologue), eventual fluff

A/N:

Thank you so much for your continued patience! I am unfortunately knee deep in moving. Breaking and Entering is on Hiatus at the moment because of my inability to appeal a report (I've been too busy to check my email and missed the 24 hour deadline. Thank you so much(/s) to whoever FALSELY reported my artistry and now cost me hours of setbacks. I don't know if I can repost and change the tag but I did file a complaint with tumblr admin and am awaiting a resolution), in the mean time, please enjoy this concept I came up with half-awake whilst packing boxes!

With love and healing,

-Lark

𓂋

𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢

Bruce Wayne was not one for religion. If there was a God, the creator must’ve had a particular disdain for Gotham City and everything in it. The place was a living hell, overrun with the likes of Scarecrow, Bane, Joker, Penguin—an endless parade of villains. It felt as though God had abandoned him, leaving the city to rot.

When a group of young people stopped him on the street, offering free Bibles, Bruce briefly considered lashing out, tearing into their beliefs with the cynicism that years in Gotham had sharpened. But he held back. Despite his doubts, he couldn’t deny the comfort religion provided to those who believed. He recalled attending Sunday school as a child, his mother’s gentle voice praising the beauty of the world around them, her unshakeable faith even in the face of Gotham’s darkness. In her final moments, she had reached out to God. Who was he to strip these kids of that same hope?

Wordlessly, he accepted the leather-bound Bible. It was crafted with care, though the materials were clearly cheap—the gold lettering was already flaking. He considered tossing it when he got home, or maybe donating it to a shelter. He might not believe in God, but he knew that his own moral compass had been shaped by something greater than himself. Not everyone had that foundation; maybe some people really did need saving.

He sighed as he carried the Bible to his office. The last thing he needed was for anyone to think he’d found religion. He had a carefully curated, morally ambiguous playboy persona to maintain. What if the media thought he was turning over a new leaf? What if they took it as a sign he was ready to settle down? The thought of more women throwing themselves at him—especially devout ones—made him shudder.

He tucked the Bible under his arm, the gold lettering pressed tightly against his side. Maybe someone would mistake it for a journal. A glance at his watch made him scowl—somehow, the walk from the coffee shop to the office had eaten up more time than expected. Lucius would undoubtedly have something to say about it later; they had a meeting, and now he was going to be late—again.

Dragging a hand down his face, Bruce felt the exhaustion deep in his bones. The late nights and early mornings were catching up with him, eroding his focus, fraying the edges of his mind. For a moment, bitterness welled up—a rare flicker of resignation. Did it even make a difference? Gotham’s streets were never truly free of crime. Petty theft, gang violence, the constant churn of the underworld—it never stopped. And the ones he managed to lock up? They always found a way out. Arkham was a revolving door, a sick joke of a prison.

For a fleeting second, he entertained the idea of quitting. The notion of a full night’s sleep was almost unimaginable, but his body ached for it. Was there really no reprieve? After all these years, the despair felt like it was swallowing him whole. Gotham was a sinkhole, and he was drowning in it.

But he shook off the thought, setting his jaw with grim resolve. He would not break, and he would not allow himself the luxury of weakness. He’d let his body rot from the inside out if that’s what it took to see his mission through. It wasn’t just an obligation; it was a promise. And though no one would blame him if he walked away, though they might even understand, he wouldn’t bow down and admit defeat. He’d fought for fifteen years—he could fight for fifteen more.

𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢

Bruce tossed the Bible onto his desk and sank into his leather chair, his eyes heavy as they flicked to the desktop screen. Logging in, he was greeted by a flood of emails—requests for meetings from the legal branch, shareholders bickering over stock distributions, and the usual complaints from board members about his lack of attention to this year’s Gala preparations.

His assistant had already informed him of the missed meeting, explaining that Lucius had been pulled into another matter. The issues were piling up, and for a brief moment, his hand trembled as he reached for the mouse. Wayne Enterprises was his father’s legacy, and Batman was his—but right now, the mission would have to wait. He needed to get this under control, and fast.

Four hours of back-to-back phone calls and troubleshooting. Bruce was now lying under his desk, trying to replace a faulty cable. The entire office was down, and with IT swamped, he had no choice but to handle it himself. He needed to review the quarterly reports before the bonuses were announced, and he knew the company had been slacking—summer interns flooding in and Tim away at college had left him without the structure he relied on.

When he finally sat up from the floor, his head collided with the corner of the desk, sending a sharp pain through his skull. The Bible tumbled from the desk, hitting him squarely on the head before flopping open on the ground, a business card slipping out.

Bruce picked it up, squinting at the bold print: "1-800-ANGEL." He frowned. What kind of absurd, erotic phone service was this? The card was nearly blank, save for a single line:

"May you find your faith."

Real funny, he thought, for a number probably meant to fleece desperate souls. They probably charged by the minute. Bruce rolled his eyes, dismissing it as yet another scam targeting the gullible.

Bruce thumbed the card, skepticism tightening his grip. Surely, no one was desperate enough to actually call. He wondered about the legitimacy of the number, and after settling back into his chair, he opened a new tab. Thankfully, the replacement cable had done its job, and his screen blinked to life. He typed in the number, but nothing came up—not even a link to some sketchy website. He tried the motto next, but all he found were articles on religion and local church recommendations. He raised an eyebrow. For a scam, they were doing a remarkably poor job of marketing it.

Picking up the Bible again, he considered the possibility that the kids handing them out might have been given faulty copies. But as he inspected it, the Bible seemed legitimate enough. He cross-referenced it with an online version to be sure, but everything checked out. The only oddity was the card. Flipping through the pages, he eventually found a strange marking on the back cover, stamped with the words "ales et lux."

"Wings and light?" he muttered, dropping the Bible back onto the desk.

Curiosity gnawed at him. Without hesitation, he dialed the number. Whatever this was, he intended to get to the bottom of it. Maybe he’d caught it early enough—he could pull a few strings with the FBI and shut it down before it preyed on anyone vulnerable. But as the line connected, the voice on the other end made him stop cold.

“So you’ve received the calling card of heaven. We’re so glad you have found your faith. Please note this card is for one-time use. For inquiries about time of death, press 1. For prayers and answers, press 2. For information on Christian denominations and healing, press 3. For nondenominational options, press 4. For Native, Inuit, Norse, and Pagan beliefs, press 5. Unsure what category your beliefs fall under? Press star for a list. For all other healing-related questions, press 6.”

Bruce’s scowl deepened as he listened to the automated menu. The damn phone hadn’t even rung—this had to be some kind of twisted scam. He was about to hang up when the final option made his breath catch.

“And finally, to speak to your angel, press 0.”

His angel? A guardian angel? He doubted he had one. If he did, they’d done a piss-poor job watching over him. The loss of his parents, Jason Todd, and Alfred—the man who had been the closest thing to a father he had left—proved that. Anger flickered in his chest. He wanted to speak to this so-called angel, to confront them, to demand answers for the pain he’d endured. What kind of angel lets their charge suffer like this?

He pressed zero, the cold, rational part of him momentarily overridden by the seething anger and hurt simmering beneath the surface—the hurt little boy he’d buried deep inside threatening to unleash all that unprocessed trauma.

He wasn’t expecting such a soft voice to greet him, nor the surprising calm that washed over his mind as it did.

“Bruce? You really called.” The voice on the other end was feminine, light, almost breathless, as if she had been waiting for this moment.

“...Who the hell are you?” His voice was sharp, defensive.

“Well, my official title doesn’t really have an accurate translation in mortal language, but I’m more or less your protector.”

“Protector?!” He growled, the word scraping out like a curse. “You couldn’t even protect me from a goddamn paper cut, let alone a laundry list of loss. You didn’t protect anything—I protect this city, I protect people. You’re not even real! You’re probably just some credit card scammer, phishing for my personal data. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Data mining. Your entire operation is fraudulent at best, and—”

He cut himself off, his voice shaking with anger. It wasn’t just fury at this supposed "protector"—it was fury at the years of pain, at the endless nights spent fighting a war that never seemed to end, at the world for daring to keep spinning while he bled in the dark. How dare anyone call themselves his protector when every person he’d ever loved had been torn away from him? How dare they try to soothe him with some ethereal nonsense when he was the one in the trenches, the one facing down Gotham’s nightmares every single night?

The silence on the other end of the line was almost unbearable, but he wouldn’t back down. He’d heard enough lies in his lifetime to know when someone was trying to sell him false hope.

“…It doesn’t work like that,” the voice finally replied, a hint of sadness woven into its softness. “I can’t interfere with your life in the way you think. Those losses… they were unfortunate, and I know they fuel the anguish that haunts your mind, but my role isn’t to shield you from pain. My job is to keep you alive. Every close call, every moment when death was just a breath away—that was my divine interference. I won’t let you die, Bruce. Not until the time is right and your body is ready to rest.”

Bruce clenched his jaw, anger and disbelief warring within him. He wanted to tear into her, to lash out at the absurdity of it all. This so-called protector, claiming to watch over him, to keep him alive—where was she when his parents were murdered in front of him? Where was she when Jason died, or when he stood over Alfred’s grave, feeling the weight of yet another life lost because of him?

“Don’t patronize me,” he spat, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I need your protection? You think those near-deaths were some divine favor? I’ve survived because I’ve fought, because I’ve clawed my way out of every hellhole Gotham’s thrown me into. You had nothing to do with it.”

He could almost hear her smile through the phone, a soft, resigned sound that seemed to fill the silence between them.

“You’ve fought harder than anyone should ever have to, Bruce. You’re the purest soul I’ve ever had the privilege of encountering. No matter how much you try to front or deflect, it’s clear you care. You care more than anyone else. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have taken in those kids, or dressed up like a bat to fight crime night after night. You’re like Sisyphus, eternally pushing a boulder uphill. And while you may not want praise or acknowledgment, you need to know—despite everything, you are a good person. You’re a good man. And in many ways, you’re the closest thing to God’s image I’ve ever seen.”

Bruce’s breath caught, anger and disbelief momentarily overshadowed by the weight of her words. How could she claim to know him so well, to understand his pain and sacrifice? Yet, the very notion of being compared to something divine—despite how hollow it felt—struck a chord deep within him.

“Spare me the sermon,” he growled, trying to regain his composure. “You think you can soothe me with this celestial rhetoric? I don’t need your validation. I need results. I need to keep this city safe, and I need to know that those I care about are protected. Save your platitudes for someone who believes in them.”

There was a pause on the other end, as if she was choosing her words carefully. “I’m not here to validate you, Bruce. I’m here to remind you that even in the darkest moments, you have a purpose. And while you may see yourself as a flawed instrument of justice, remember that even in your struggle, there’s a reflection of something greater—a beacon of hope for others, whether you realize it or not.”

Bruce didn’t respond, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. The rational part of him dismissed her words as manipulative flattery, but a flicker of vulnerability, long suppressed, threatened to break through. He forced himself to focus, pushing those thoughts aside.

“Enough of this,” he said, his voice cold and final. “If you’re really here to help, then stay out of my way. I’ll handle things my way.”

He hung up the phone, the echo of her voice lingering in his mind. As he turned his attention back to the stack of paperwork and problems awaiting him, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that perhaps, in some twisted way, she had touched a part of him he had long buried.

𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢

Bruce landed another punch on the goon, watching as they crumpled to the ground. Fighting at the docks was his least favorite—slippery surfaces and treacherous footing made it harder to maintain his balance. He glanced at the wall, the dim streetlight casting an eerie glow on the dilapidated brick.

In the periphery of his vision, he thought he saw the shadow of wings, a fleeting, phantom-like presence. When he snapped around, though, all he saw were the goons he had already beaten. They lay scattered and unconscious, bloodied and bruised. A quick scan of the area revealed the familiar wreckage of a confrontation: discarded weapons and broken crates.

On the ground, a few feet away from a goon he didn’t remember hitting, lay a gun glinting in the faint light. Next to it was a single white feather. The goon in question had no visible injuries, no sign of the kind of violence Bruce had just inflicted on the others. There were no swollen bruises, no blood—nothing to suggest that they had been involved in the scuffle.

Bruce frowned, his mind racing. He hadn't hit this one, nor had he seen anything out of the ordinary during the fight. The feather seemed out of place, its presence unsettling. It wasn’t like anything he had come across before—an odd detail in an otherwise straightforward altercation.

His instincts, honed by years of vigilant observation, told him this was no mere coincidence. There was something strange here, something beyond the usual street brawls and petty crime. The feather could mean something, or someone, had intervened. And if that was the case, Bruce needed to understand why.

He crouched down to examine the feather and the gun more closely. His eyes narrowed, scanning for any other anomalies or signs that could explain the goon’s sudden unconsciousness. Whatever the cause, Bruce knew he couldn’t ignore it. Not with the pattern of oddities and divine encounters that had begun to surface recently.

He straightened up, the feather clenched in his hand, his mind already shifting gears. There was more at play here than just a fight—something, or someone, was influencing events from the shadows. And as always, it was up to him to uncover the truth.

˚₊‧𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢‧₊˚

Approx. Word Count: ~2,746

pt I: Coming Soon(?)

This is a soft-launch of this series, if you guys would like more parts, please let me know in the comments <3 It helps motivate me to write!

//Series Tag List: Available Upon Request!

Status Page 2024: Here

#bruce wayne #angst #batman #batfam #batdad #batman x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #female reader #alfred pennyworth #tim drake #dc batman #bruce wayne x reader #angst with a happy ending #eventual smut #angel reader

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cerastes · 1 year ago

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Hey. It's been a while. I think it's right to update you on stuff so tl;dr I'm probably not going to be around for some time, and if I am, it'll be in a diminished capacity, but if you're interested, do check under the cut. I'll also immediately state that I am not in any dangerous situation, it's other stuff, but I'll immediately dispel that before the cut just in case you just wanted to know that in particular.

Let's talk for a bit.

Long story short, the economy here is in shambles. The idea was for me to already have a new job, but that's not gone according to plan. I've been eating into my savings for a while now, and the people that told me that I had a job lined up for me September or at the latest October, meaning, this month, have been ghosting me. It seems to not be an option anymore, and no explanation was ever given to me. A shame, because it came from a place of relative trust.

This has eaten away at my nerves somewhat, and though it is the month of my birthday, I can't help but notice that, between the economy being this bad here, how hard it's been to land another job, and the fact that I'm eating into my savings, well, it's got me more than a bit worried. I'm not in any immediate danger of losing the roof over my head, or starving, or anything like that, but after a few months of "well, my savings take yet another hit this month with no end in sight", it's been rather rough, you'll understand, and it's compounded a bit. For just a second, and not as a primary, secondary, or even tertiary plan, more like a twenty-eighth measure if anything, I did entertain the dark idea of maybe asking for a bit of help here, and the moment that thought came up, I realized, "Ok, this is truly and well affecting me, I never want to do that", because, again, it's not like I'm in any immediate danger of homelessness or anything that grave, but it's been weighting on me enough that, even as a distant glint in the horizon of an idea, I did consider it. I don't want to sound like I'm blowing my own horn here, but for over a decade that I've had this blog, and the community/following/whatever you want to call it that has grown around it, I've never once asked for something like monetary help, because I think that can be a slippery slope. I've seen people far bigger than me, and some smaller, too, get addicted to asking for donations or help, or simply start taking it for granted when they ask for such a thing. My friends will tell you I writhe in agony when I receive a gift such as a game or something over the mail. My logic is that I don't need it, not in a proud way, but rather, in a "I wish you would spend this money on yourself instead, or on someone that truly needed it". With this in mind, I realized that, for me to even slightly consider that as an option, for the first time in my life, it meant that it was biting away at me far, far more severely than I thought. It's translated to other parts of my life as of late; I've not been depressed or anything, but I've felt this itch, this remarkably implacable feeling of "my man, you don't deserve to be taking it easy right now, something has to change, progress needs to be made".

I went out to wander for a few days, then arrived at my cousin's farm. He and his wife live a humble, hard working life, he invited me to stay for a while, I accepted, it was real nice, we hanged out, went exploring creeks and mountainsides while knocking back a few beers, the whole shebang for two guys that grew up in the middle of nowhere. Anyhow, it's true that the whole exposition that was the previous paragraph is something at play, but I also just... Haven't really wanted to be online at all. I don't want to check anything, read anything, and I feel a deep sense of alienation that I've not really felt in a long time. I suppose this is one of those good ol' Bro Is Going Through It, if we're to summarize it in a few words. It's easy for me to dispel negative thoughts and bounce back normally, because I've done a great deal of personal building and homework on knowing myself inside out, but not even this black belt in Drimobrain has helped this time around, and well, it bothers me, obviously, bwahaha. It's the first time in a few years that I really sincerely do not understand what's up with me, and while it's not really something I would consider me being rock bottom or anywhere near those depths, I do think I'm still below surface level, which is something I don't admit to easily, but have no choice to. I would love to be able to give this malaise shape and firmness through written or spoken word, but right now, it's a work in progress.

What bothers me the most is the sense of alienation I spoke of before: It makes no sense for me to feel this way, I'm treated with love and kindness every day, no one's silencing me in any way, I don't deal with barbs or hostility. So why is it that that's how I feel? Or perhaps it's something that feels similar, but I've no clue what it is, so I'm compounding it with alienation?

Regardless, it's all compounded into me just... Not wanting to be online. In the words of a friend of mine, "Dreamer has a fetish for self-development and growth", and, well, yeah, she's got that right despite the wording, I like to feel as if I'm improving every day and becoming better every day, even if slightly, and right now I feel like I'm just degenerating. Is it because my mood has been sour overall? Maybe. It might as well just be the fact that I Just Don't Want To Be Online For A While, and capricious clown that I am, if I want to do something, I do it, and if I don't want to do something, I don't do it. I'm tied to nothing and no one except my desire and drive to do or not do things. I can't change that, nor do I want to change that. And in this case, my heart's said to me, "fuck going online, go out, do things, try to get a job".

I also almost got recruited into something fucking vile that I thankfully noticed in time to avoid, but that's a story for another time.

There you have it. Am I leaving the internet/blue website forever? No, of course not, I like it here. Are things hard right now? They are, to be honest. Are they the worst it could be? Not at all. Do I have complete clarity of what's up with this fog inside of my head? No, and that bother me quite a bit. Are things going to be alright? Yeah, I think they will be.

I do regret it's in October of all months that this is going on, because it's where my shitposting power is at its apex due to my birthday, but hey, things happen, not necessarily for a reason, but they can be handled in such a way that it gives them meaning. I'm a fervent believer in that. I'm sorry this isn't the update you may have been hoping for, full of Lucina cosplayer blowjobs and other such hijinks, but hey, they can't all be Rainbow Road, haha.

So in case we don't see each other for a while, I hope you're all doing fine and dandy. I'm alive, I'm trying to be well, and most importantly, most fundamentally, most quintessentially,

I stay silly.

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phoenixyfriend · 10 months ago

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Calls for Action, Call Your Reps: 2/21/24

This is USA-specific, as that is the place I live and know.

Find your elected officials.

There are no bills scheduled to be on the floor on the House or Senate this week, though that may change. The chambers are using this time to debate and negotiate changes to the bills that were passed in the other chamber last week.

Suggested verbiage and strategies for calling your elected officials.

Both House and Senate:

Reinstate funding for UNRWA. While the claims made by Israel that employees of the relief agency were involved in Oct. 7th are troubling, THEY are not well supported, and western officials did not do their duty in investigating the claims before cutting funding. This arm of the UN is currently providing food, water, shelter, and medical care to the 2.3 million displaced peoples of Gaza. It is especially disturbing and concerning that the many children of Gaza, who are already suffering due to this conflict, are now having this support revoked. Many sources are also claiming that the evidence is flimsy at best.

UNICEF is reporting that children are dying of hunger in Gaza, as of today (2/21/24).

Urge both Senate and House to refrain from funding Israel, or to at least put some strings on it. The IDF cannot be given funding without some regulations on what they can do with it. They have proven that they are unwilling to take steps to protect civilians.

Sanctions must also be placed on Israel for its continued impediment of aid intended for Gazans, including aid from the US.

Urge for the US to stop vetoing ceasefire demands in the UN. No, the suggested replacement written by the US is not an excuse.

FOR THE SENATE: Urge your senator to put their support behind Bernie Sanders and his motion to restrict funding to Israel until a humanitarian review of the IDF’s actions in Gaza has been completed. Cite it as Senate Resolution 504 if your Senator is right-wing enough to react negatively to the mention of Sanders by name. NOTE: This resolution was TABLED by the Senate on 1/16, but it is being brought back in as conditions continue to escalate.

Passed in the House last week, so bother your senators about it, is H.R. 3016: IGO Anti-Boycott Act. Vote Nay. This appears to be intended to force US companies to do business with US allies instead of participating in boycotts. This appears, to me, to be an attack on movements like BDS. To Dem Reps, argue that this refuses the right of peaceful protest to US citizens. To Republican Reps, argue that this is a dangerous government overreach and that it is not the right of the government to force US citizens to purchase products and materials from specific foreign partners.

Not related to Gaza: It looks like they're gearing up for another push at KOSA. The canned email responses I'm getting are really proud of being FOR KOSA, which is... bad. VOTE NAY.

FOR THE HOUSE: Urge your representative to put their support behind Rep. Rashida Tlaib’s petition for the US government to recognize the IDF’s actions in Gaza as ethnic cleansing and forced displacement, and put a stop to it. ALTERNATELY: recommend that they support House Resolution 786, introduced by Rep. Cori Bush, Calling for an immediate deescalation and cease-fire in Israel and occupied Palestine.

If you wish to support my political blogging, I am accepting donations on ko-fi.

#current events #Phoenix Politics #Gaza #Palestine #united states #Israel #call your reps #kosa

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jasmine-the-fox · 9 months ago

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The bee protects the ladybug better then the cat ever could

So... this was a request made by Anon. I have been meaning to post it but now here I am doing it at long last.

I hope you all enjoy this piece!

Marinette realised she fell out of love towards Adrien once she understood she was in love with Chloe's half sister Zoe. It had been a huge shock to her but Tikki was able to calm her down enough that she was able to think over things... and understand that changes needed to be done in her life. As a result, she got rid of every single picture she had of Adrien in her room and donated all of the gifts she made for Adrien after getting rid of his schedule.

Once all of that was done. She decided to redo her room a little bit with the decor... and who better to ask for help then Zoe! It was perfect! She could ask her to come help her pick things out and then invite her over to help her redo her decor. Which is what she did, while nervous of course Mari stuttered out her request of Zoe helping her buy some new decor for her room after school... and the blonde accepted making Mari very excited to the answer. Which resulted in them having a fun time together doing some shopping.

When they were done, Mari asked Zoe if she was free to come over tomorrow... she wanted her opinion on where to place the new decor and she happily accepted "I think it would be a fun thing to do together. Then we could take a walk together" she offered which made Mari even more excited about tomorrow. She was freaking out on how things were going "What if she asks me out! Or I ask her out or even better we do it at the same time!?" She said as she flopped on her bed with a smile on her face.

Tikki found it nice that her bug and Pollen's bee were bonding so well at the moment... for in the past, some of Plagg's cats would never let it happen so Plagg had to start keeping them away so it can happen. Later that day, Mari drops off the bee miraculous in Zoe's room to make Vesperia an official member to the team... she could only hope that Cat Noir would be alright with this... last thing she wants is a temper tantrum from him, the next day. Zoe arrives and goes up to Mari's room.

The two get to work quickly since Zoe had come up with a few ideas for them to use to decorate Mari's room, it actually made things go faster than they thought... so when they finished... the two went on there walk together. Mari was of course internally screaming... but it got worst when Zoe took hold of her hand... resulting in Mari blushing like crazy... and also stuttering out both her feelings and asking Zoe out on a date. Of course, Zoe laughed and claimed she was cute and funny... but accepted both her feelings and the date request.

People watched as Mari had a slight freak out of joy in silence... while Tikki and Pollen laughed at the whole thing...

So... the two girls walked into school as a couple the following week. People found them cute and Alya began calling them 'Zoenette' which made them blush. Chloe at one point took Mari away and gave her the "If you hurt my sister's heart in any way I will hurt you and ruin your life" talk and Mari not only had a freak out... but Zoe had a fight with her sister when they got back to the hotel. Chloe to Mari's shock apologized the next day and offered to take her out shopping after school which she accepted since Sabrina was nodding to her to agree.

Adrien however... didn't like this. Even though everyone thought the two girls were cute together... he didn't think they should be together... the same went for Vesperia and Ladybug. The two started not only dating but working more together! Alya had made a poll about there ship name being either 'Ladyria' or 'Vespebug' and he hated it all to be honest. he believed they were making a mistake and that 'LadyNoir' was meant to be no matter what in the end... but no one wanted to listen to him.

So he decided to start with Zoe and Marinette... and what better way they to claim Zoe like her sister Chloe...

He was avoided like the plague. He couldn't believe it didn't work, Lila tried to help him with a few lies... but it quickly backfired when Chloe and Sabrina revealed she was a liar... scared for her life and not wanting to face her actions, she ran back to Italy to be safe... which caused everyone who gave her money for stuff or to donate... wasn't getting it back at all which caused them to be upset with her. But before she left she revealed to them the one truth she would say "Adrien and Marinette were the only ones who knew I was a liar. You all turned your backs on her when she tried to reveal me and Adrien kept quiet" this caused them all to feel betrayed by him.

He lost his friends without ever knowing why. Zoe and Mari on the other hand were very happy now that Lila was gone... this left Vesperia and Ladybug for him to stop. He found out that they were going on a date together when he was on patrol... so he planned to ruin it... but he missed it due to a photoshoot his father had for him. As a result... Mari revealed herself to Vesperia which resulted in there relationship being stronger than before... and 'Vespebug' became there ship name.

Adrien was of course pissed off at the fact he failed to allow the four to be in relationships in the end. Believing he still had a chance he stormed over to Mari's place, he went to her room "You need to leave Zoe Marinette! I'm telling you she's just like Chloe! This sweet and nice thing is an act! Once she get's what she want's from you she will leave you while laughing!" he claimed with the great hope she would believe him... but instead he was kicked out of the bakery by her angry parents while Mari screamed from her balcony to stay away from her.

He tried the same thing as Cat Noir to Vesperia... but she kept her distance every time he tried to talk to her. What he didn't know is that Mari tried calling her but ended up calling Chloe by mistake... she of course quickly told Zoe who ran to be by her girlfriend's side to comfort her. As a result, there were problems between them during akuma battles that the public noticed pretty quickly and began to worry that something was wrong... they began to ask questions which annoyed Adrien as it wasn't any of there business in the first place, but then he had enough and did an interview for Nadja.

She brought it up and he... lied, he claimed that Ladybug and Vesperia were fighting over something and to mind there own business now. This angered many as they were worried for them and wanted things to get back to normal... and claimed he was being a jerk for telling them that, but he believed he had a right to say what he said... until it backfired on him when Ladybug and Vesperia gave Alya an interview to tell the truth, they were in her living room and they spoke "Cat Noir lied about the problem... the truth is he is the problem" Ladybug explained "He tried to lie to me about Ladybug being in love with him and that I was in the way of them being together. He also claimed that she and I weren't a match and that I needed to leave the team" Vesperia explained.

They talked a bit more about the situation but in the end it caused Cat Noir to be greatly hated by the public. His merch was destroyed and the statue made in his and Ladybug's honor was destroyed and would only be remade once he was replaced, this caused Adrien to not transform as he didn't want to get thrown stuff at him anymore. Mari struggled with this but Zoe was by her side and believed it was for the best... so they reclaimed it from him when Ladybug got him to come out. He tried to fight back but venom used on him... it was over.

But it wasn't over just yet. With Zoe's support and Chloe and Sabrina by her side, Mari told the entire class what Adrien tried to tell her about Zoe so they could breakup... it infuriated the class since he was in the wrong to do something like this to Mari, Chloe even showed them how Mari called her by mistake that day which proved what he did. The class attacked him for it and he was reported to his father... who decided to send him to London to live with his aunt and cousin for the time being.

After that... things were better for the two girls. They were happy and freed from Adrien and Cat Noir... they even replaced him with Chloe who went by the name Black Panthère and she worked hard to prove she was better than Cat Noir. As a result, merch began to be designed and a new statue was in the making for the three girls... but considering the team was planning to expand... it might take awhile to make before getting revealed.

But the bee and ladybug were happy now... and no black cat would put an end to that...

#miraculous ladybug #adrien salt #miraculous salt #zoenette #marinette dupain cheng #zoe lee #cat!chloe #miraculous swap

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milkweedman · 1 year ago

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NEED TO MAKE RENT SALE

As you may have seen I'm selling some of my handspun yarn, along with some fleece, batts, rolags, and other odds and ends. I'm really short on rent this month, largely due to having so many flare up days that working was almost impossible. So, I'm selling some of my work in the hopes that I can still make rent somehow. I need over $500.

Im also linking to my kofi. If you don't wish to buy anything but still want to help me make rent--which I would appreciate so much <3

I'll be updating this post as I sell things so please make sure to click back to my original post to check if it's still available. First come first serve. Unless otherwise stated, all shipping is $5 USD to within the USA. If you're outside of the USA please let me know--shipping will likely be between $30-50 USD depending on to where, but I am happy to work with you if you're interested.

PLEASE DM ME IF YOU WANT TO BUY SOMETHING <3

YARNS (please ignore the slips of paper, ive given everything a nice label now)

A: 572 yards/ 480 meters. 5.75 oz/ 165 grams. 2 ply, approximately DK weight. Silk and merino blend assembled by myself. There are stripes of different greens which are arranged to be bigger at one end than the other, so a triangle shawl (working from the correct end of yarn) will have stripes that are more or less even instead of getting thicker near the narrow end of the shawl. I don't know how noticeable the effect will be, though. Silky soft and shines beautifully in the sun. $100 USD or best offer.

B: 175 yards/160 meters. 2 oz/ 57 grams. 2 ply, light fingering weight to sport weight. Luxury blend of alpaca, cormo, debouillet, silk, silk noil, angora, and cashmere. Very textured due to how I plied it and some noils, but also extremely soft and with lovely drape. Next to skin soft. $60 USD or best offer. SOLD

C: 176 yards/160 meters. 2.25 oz/64 grams. 2 ply, light worsted. Merino, silk, silk noil, angora, and mystery wool blend. Next to skin soft, lots of different colors, and good drape. $50 USD or best offer. SOLD

D: 152 yards/130 meters. 2 oz/57 grams. 3 ply, light worsted. Cormo, alpaca, and merino blend. This yarn was arranged into a stripey gradient--white stripes separating a light purple to dark purple gradient. 3 ply. Incredibly soft--would be perfect for a hat or cowl. $55 USD or best offer.

E: 100 yards/91 meters. 2.5 oz/71 grams. Traditional 3 ply, aran/bulky weight. Romney 3 ply. Durable, squishy, and warm, but not particularly soft. Would make a great hat or gloves. $35 USD or best offer SOLD

F: 140 yards/128 meters. 1.75 oz/50 grams. Traditional 3 ply, fingering weight. Beautiful BFL yarn in autumn colors. Due to the traditional 3 ply the colors constantly shift and change. Very soft and with good drape. $45 USD or best offer. SOLD

G: 325 yards/300 meters. 4 oz/115 grams. 2 ply, fingering weight. Wool, silk, silk noil, alpaca, and Angelina blend. Very textured but soft and drapey. $80 USD or best offer.

H: 166 yards/145 meters. 2 oz/57 grams. 2 ply worsted weight. Targhee, BFL, Angelina blend. Incredibly soft and drapey. Fuzzy and lightly underplied for maximum softness (so a little delicate). Next to skin quality. $45 USD or best offer.

(I'll accept the highest offer I get in a timely manner, so if you really want something and think other people also want to buy it, you can offer more to potentially guarantee you get it. Or offer less, and get it for cheaper if nobody else wants it. Although I wont accept very low offers, sorry.)

BATTS AND ROLAGS. These all contain several large handfuls of milkweed floss, because why not. Very fun and soft to spin.

A. 0.75 oz/21 grams. Romney, BFL, silk, bamboo, Targhee, milkweed floss. Somewhat soft, would be very soft if plied with a fine fiber. Lots of purples and blues, with small amounts of rainbow. Should yield a heathered, smooth yarn except for bumps of milkweed floss. $15 USD or best offer. SOLD

B. 0.75 ounces/21 grams. Naturally dyed Shetland combing waste (yellow), BFL, silk merino, milkweed floss. Many different colors arranged in stripes--yellow and blue primarily. Should yield a textured yarn due to the combing waste, but also lofty and colorful. Fairly soft and very squishy. $15 USD or best offer.

C: 0.5 oz/14 grams. Tussah silk, BFL, merino, merino combing waste, milkweed floss. Very soft. Majority tussah silk which is charcoal black. The other colors are dark purple, a few streaks of red, and the shining white from the milkweed floss. Should spin up to a fine and soft yarn. I am also able to make more of these, which would be the same weight and price and matching the original as closely as possible. Let me know if you want several. $12 USD or best offer. SOLD -- but i can make more, if youre interested !

D: 0.5 oz/14 grams. Merino combing waste, merino, BFL, silk, milkweed floss. Buttery soft. Mostly dark brown with purple, blue, and white streaks. I can make several identical ones if desired, for the same price each. $12 USD or best offer. SOLD -- but i can more, if you're interested !

E: 0.5 oz/14 grams. BFL merino, mystery wool and milkweed floss blend. This has stripes of purple and blue, suspended a squishy mystery combing waste. Should yield a fine but squishy yarn. $10 USD or best offer. SOLD

If I sell all or most of these I will make some more !

FLEECE. I am selling by the ounce (28 grams). I'm also willing to process these into fluffy hand carded rolags or fine hand combed top as desired, which will cost extra depending on how difficult the fiber is to process.

A. Jacob lambswool. Very soft but lots of large vm (so, easy to pick out) and nepps/noils. Those will stay in the fiber unless combed, so this tends to produce a very soft, bumpy yarn. I love this fleece but I just can't seem to use it up. Primarily dark brown, but I also have some white and mixed as well. I have about 8 ounces. Washed but still a tiny bit greasy (just to my preference). $3 an ounce.

B: Rambouillet. I have almost a pound of this stuff. Incredibly buttery soft. Like touching seafoam. But it has a ton of fine VM, so it can only be cleaned either lock by lock on hand cards or combed. I am willing to clean it for you. Takes a long time to get into a spinnable state but it is SO worth it. $2 an ounce. SOLD

C: Breed unknown. Some sections are salmon pink, others closer to hot pink. Not much vm, can be combed open lock by lock on hand cards or combed into top. Yields a silky, strong, hairy yarn. Willing to process for you (this would be one of the cheaper ones to do, it's very easy). I have 5 ounces. $2 an ounce. SOLD

D & E: These are both rya lambswool, naturally dyed with yellow onion skin (the bright yellow one with alum, the copper one with copper). Very soft and silky, spins up to a surprisingly robust yarn. Absolute treat to work with. Some vm but the nature of this fleece causes the vm to fall out pretty easily. I have about a pound total. Will process for you. Washed and dyed by myself. $5 an ounce. D IS SOLD, E IS STILL AVAILABLE

F: Sunshine Shetland. Very soft and fine. Naturally dyed, again with onion skins. The tips are somewhat felted and need to be pulled off, which is quick and easy. If combed lock by lock and then spun that way you can get a subtle gradient of orange to yellow with each lock... absolutely gorgeous. Will process for you. I have about 10 ounces. Washed and dyed by myself. $5 per ounce. SOLD

G: Red Hampshire. Not neon red like in the picture, more of a brick red. Very soft and foamy. Some vm. Easy to process on hand cards by combing lock by lock or turning into a rolag. Washed and dyed (using food coloring) by myself. I only have an ounce and a quarter--which is $6 for all of it. SOLD

COMBING WASTE GRAB BAGS

These are 1 ounce bags of primarily combing waste (so, short fibers and likely some vm) along with other interesting scrap such as mohair locks, colorful merino, and sometimes the occasional single rolag. Lots of the colors are naturally dyed by myself. Great for turning into rolags or using for batt fodder. These are $5 USD if you're buying more than one item (that could be yarn, another grab bag, some fleece, etc) or $10 USD each if you are only buying a single grab bag.

SPINDLES

Lastly, I'm also selling some spindles. A-C are whittled and decorated by myself. D is a beautiful Dealgan which I never could figure out how to use.

A. Supported spindle carved from a fruit tree. I gave it a steeple shape, which does make it slow to spin with. Really enjoyable for special spins that you want to do slowly and thoughtfully. Small spindle, about the length of my hand. $55 USD or best offer.

B. Onion dome supported spindle. Very light for its size, so it can hold a decent cop on it. Small spindle--about the length of my hand. $50 USD or best offer. SOLD ! thank you 🩵🩵🩵

C: Larch spindle. This one has lots of beautiful spalting, as well as being woodburned. Also the length of my hand. Has a very distinct feel to it, sort of in an alive way. $90 USD or best offer.

D: Lightning Dealgan. I got it for $50 and it's basically unused, so reselling for $50 USD. Very heavy and smooth.

And thats it ! If you don't want to buy anything but still wish to help me make rent, you can also donate to my kofi, which would mean the world to me <3

#destash #handspun yarn #wool fleece #natural dyeing #supported spindle #mutual aid

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