#plus I prefer to be on my laptop when I'm at home

[silvermoon424]

This is a subject that really interests me because I (28 years old) had computer classes in grade school where learning how to efficiently type was a big focus. As a result I have a very high WPM (words per minute) count and am an excellent touch typer.

However, I've heard that they started phasing out computer classes in a lot of schools because it's assumed that kids/teenagers already know how to use a computer in this day and age. But smartphones are more popular than computers now, and as result a lot of Gen Z/Gen Alpha kids are able to text very quickly but their typing skills aren't as good.

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 6 - The Butterfly Effect

Read on AO3

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Contains: No Y/N (2nd POV but Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Poorly translated Spanish, Lots of introspection

~4.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly nothing particularly bad happens this chapter.

John gives you space for the next few days, letting you settle in around the edges of his own routine. You’ve always been an early riser, and so is he, but he starts every day with a run, and you prefer a slower pace. You’ve taken to coming downstairs after you hear the front door close, and stretch on the living room floor (you wouldn’t call it yoga, but you’ve spent the last few years keeping up with the Kinsey kids, and you know how important it is to maintain flexibility), and make coffee before you go back upstairs to get dressed and ready for the day. John always showers first thing after his run, but after the second day he starts taking off his shirt before he drinks a glass of water at the sink, watching you from the corner of his eye to see if you’re looking.

And maybe sometimes you are. It would be a useless endeavour, pretending that he’s not nice to look at. He’s big, barrel-chested, with thick, muscular arms, and he’s hairy in a way that’s unbelievably attractive, and he gleams with sweat after his runs. If he didn’t look so damn smug every time he catches you looking, you’d probably gladly spend a few long minutes studying him. Something about the man makes your fingers itch to pick up a pencil.

You just orbit around each other for those first few days. He’s working on some project outside, and you putter around the house a bit and look for new jobs online. You were surprised that he didn’t confiscate your laptop to keep you from calling for a rescue, but he made no effort to stop you from using your laptop or your phone. Perhaps he’d really listened when you’d tried to set boundaries. He’s certainly given you space to adjust.

On Wednesday, you video call your Lola— It’s been routine for ages, since you always had Sundays and Wednesdays off from work— and catch up. You start the call shortly after John leaves, to give yourself some time to talk privately. It’s nice to see her familiar, wrinkled brown face, even if she’s half the world away from you.

She clocks that you’re not at home right away, and gets that sly, knowing smile when you tell her you’re staying with a friend. “¿Estás viendo a alguien?” she asks. “¿Un joven tal vez?” Are you seeing someone? A young man perhaps?

“No nada de eso. Sólo quedarme con un amigo.” No, nothing like that. Just staying with a friend. Once again, lying to make it seem like you’re not in trouble. It’s not like your Lola would be able to do anything about your situation anyway. You would just worry her.

Of course, Lola is much too observant not to see that you're hiding something-- Even if all she sees of you is a video call once a week, you're her granddaughter and she knows you. "Dalisay," she says, her tone a mocking approximation of sternness. "Eres una mujer adulta. Me gustaría saber que eres feliz, que estás saliendo con alguien agradable. No tienes que mentirme. Mientele a tu otra abuela.” You are a grown woman. I would like to know you're happy, that you’re seeing someone kind. You don't have to lie to me. Lie to your other grandmother.

You laugh. "¡Es complicado Lola! Él es—" It's complicated Lola! He's—

The door opens, and John limps back in, early. "Rolled my ankle," he explains, taking your wide-eyed look as concern. "Just need some ice."

"Muéstramelo," Lola demands, laughing. "Tiene una voz hermosa.” Show him to me. He has a handsome voice.

John turns toward you, frowning. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"I always call Lola on Wednesdays-- John, sit down, you need to ice your ankle, what are you doing?"

He's standing on one leg, in the middle of the kitchen, fishing a mug out of the cupboard rather than getting something cold and sitting right down. "I--"

You're not sure what possesses you, but you get up, and you make him sit, and you go to make him his coffee and wrap a bag of frozen peas in a tea towel. When you turn around, he's reached across the table to pull your laptop closer, smiling at the camera when Lola claps he hands together, beaming.

"Es guapo, Dalisay. Pero no joven, ¿eh?" She says, laughing. He's handsome, Dalisay. But not young, huh?

"No," he agrees, "soy demasiado viejo para ella. Todavía soy lo suficientemente egoísta como para intentarlo de todos modos.” I'm too old for her. I'm still selfish enough to try anyway. Lola laughs at his honesty, pleased with John already.

You set down the coffee and glare at him. But you gently set the ice pack on his raised ankle. He pulls you into his lap, sitting you on his other thigh. "John!" You protest.

"Oh, relájate, apo,” Lola chides, unhelpfully reading the situation just the way John wants her to. She seems impressed by John's accented Spanish, happy to not need to translate her words to English to speak with him. She speaks English perfectly well, but she prefers Spanish, calls English clunky and ungraceful. "Yo también fui joven una vez. Me preocupaba que ella nunca encontrara a alguien.” Oh lighten up, apo. I was young once too. I was worried she would never find someone.

"No es que ella no pudiera,” John says. "Ella es tan hermosa, pero mantiene la distancia." It's not that she couldn't. She's so beautiful, but she keeps her distance.

“John, stop that,” you say, and you do mean the way he’s talking, but you also mean the hand that’s firmly gripping your hip, kneading your soft flesh. It’s not hard enough to bruise, not even enough to hurt, but it’s distracting, and makes your heart flutter. The movement is also hitching your skirt up a little higher on your thighs.

The innocent, laughing look he gives you is no help. “Sorry, love.” He kisses your shoulder, his hand sliding up to your waist instead.

You glance over at the screen, wincing when you see two of your cousins crowded into the screen with Lola, all of them stifling laughter and one of them holding a chubby baby.

“He needs to buy you a ring, cuz,” Ligaya says, waving her baby’s chubby hand at you. “Say hello Berting, that’s your auntie Dalisay and her boyfriend.” She and her sister, Ceci dissolve into giggles. The baby laughs too, although he doesn’t have any idea what’s going on around him.

“He’s too old to be anyone’s boyfriend,” you grouse.

“He looks more like husband material to me,” Ceci crows. She points a threatening finger at the webcam. “You’d better be good to her! She’s our favourite cousin.”

“Y mi nieta favorita,” Lola says, And my favourite granddaughter, cupping her hand around her mouth as if that would keep Ligaya and Ceci from hearing her. They both laugh, unoffended, Ceci batting Lola’s shoulder lightly.

“I will,” John promises. “She makes it easy. She’s much too good for the likes of me.”

“And don’t you forget it, English!” Ligaya agrees. “Are you coming to see us for Christmas this year, Lisay? There’s at least four babies you haven’t met yet.”

“I’m not sure I can afford to this year. We’ll see if I can find work—”

“¿Qué pasó? ¿Perdiste tu trabajo?” Lola asks. What happened? Did you lose your job?

“You practically raised those niños!” Ligaya protests, as if that would change the facts of the matter. “They love you!”

You grimace, and haltingly explain that Mr. Kinsey had made a pass at you, and you’d been fired so that he and his wife could work out their marital issues. Apparently you’d been just too tempting to have around, despite the fact that you had less than zero interest in your former employer. By the end of your explanation, Lola looks ready to fight, and Ligaya and Ceci both look furious too. “It’s alright,” you say, trying to convince yourself as much as you are them. “I wouldn’t have been able to leave if they didn’t fire me. And I didn’t want to be raising someone else's’ kids forever.”

Ceci wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Yeah, Lisay, you want your own babies, eh?”

“You should start painting again,” Ligaya suggested, flicking Ceci with the hand not currently supporting her son. “You could sell prints online, portrait commissions. You’re as good as your mother, and she made it into that London Gallery.”

Lola notices the way your smile strains and shoos your cousins away. “El consejo es bueno aunque graznan,” she says. “Eres demasiado buena para dejar de pintar.” The advice is good, even if they quack. You’re too good to stop painting.

You change the subject, and Lola talks some about the children, about neighbourhood gossip, catching you up on everything before you end the call. You sigh, sinking into John unconsciously. He’s so big, and so solid, you wish you could do away with that undercurrent of fear ruining the little comfort his arms would provide you otherwise.

“Why’d you stop painting?” he asks.

“It’s not the same anymore.”

“Is anything ever the same?”

You twist to look at him. His eyes are too blue, piercing though you like he’s able to read the thoughts in your head. You have to remind yourself that he can’t, that he doesn’t know you well enough even to guess. You’re getting to know him pretty well though, and you recognize this earnestness, this plea to let him in, to let him help. John is a man who needs to do something all the time, that needs to focus on a task. You wonder what it is that nips at his heels so sharply— Is is inherent, genetic, something unavoidable, written in the core of his very deepest, truest self? Or is it just that he’s running from something, and must stay in motion, driving himself ever forward to keep it from catching up?

“Have you ever lost anyone, John?”

Surprise widens his eyes for a flickering second, before he hides it behind a tight smile. “Think we’re talking about you, Doll.”

“You don’t have to answer. I think it’s just easier to understand, when you have. Painting just reminds me of my mam. It’s like trying to swim with lead shoes on. It’s so hard to keep my head above the water that it’s easier just not to swim.”

“Maybe you could try takin’ off the lead shoes,” he suggested, his arms tightening around you. Levity and reassurance, like he knows exactly what you need. “Or maybe you just shouldn’t go swimmin’ alone.”

“A lifeguard,” you say, rolling the thought around in your head. Maybe that was the problem, the empty space was too apparent when there was no one around to fill it. You’d painted the flowers on the credenza with Ripley there, and that had even been nice. You’d thought it was just a fluke, but you hadn’t really thought about why it had been different. “That’s an interesting thought.”

“Did you have everything you’d need? We can look through the boxes for your supplies.”

You shake your head. “No. Yes. I have watercolours somewhere. Just no acrylics. But I could start with watercolours.”

“Yeah? We can look now, if you like.”

“Maybe in a bit. I’ll make breakfast first.”

“I can do it,” he offers quickly. “I want to take care of you.”

As much as you aren’t quite ready to admit it, he already is. “No, I think it’s my turn. Just give me a minute. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but this is kind of nice.”

He hums his agreement, picking up his coffee. You think he’s doing it so he can’t kiss you, and you’re so pleased that he’s starting to get it that you almost consider kissing him instead.

But you don’t. You just let yourself enjoy the moment.

Maybe that’s enough, for now.

You decide that having him sit and watch you painting would be awkward, so once you hunt down your watercolours and a sketchbook with heavy paper, you set up outside while he works. He’s constructing some kind of frame over a concrete pad, a covered porch, you think. You sit out of the way, facing the copse of trees that surround the house, and the overgrown, weedy garden. It looks like it had been set up early in the season with the best of intentions, but you suspect that it was too hard on his knees and back. He’d made the mistake of planting everything straight in the ground— You probably would have suggested planter boxes, if you’d been here in the spring. Then he could have sat on a stool— It would have helped keep the bunnies out too. The few tomatoes left on an abandoned vine have little bites nibbled out of them— Almost everything has little bites taken out of it.

It makes you smother a laugh. It’s easy to imagine John railing against nature— He’s so stubborn, there’s no way he gave up for a good long time— Cursing the rabbits and deer, leaning over the once-neat rows until his back ached. There’s a pair of rusting garden shears stuck out of the ground, evidence that he quit in a fit of pique some months ago.

He’s looking at you— He has a sense for when you let happiness slip through, like a hound picking up a rabbit’s trail in the woods. You can feel the burn of those bright blue eyes on you, the heavy weight of his attention. Does he make note of everything you smile at? You wonder how long the list is now. Puppies, the Stuart kids, Lola and your cousins, and now his poor attempts at gardening. You haven’t really let much else get past your careful, polite mask, knowing full well that stone-walling him is your best defence. He’s searching for an opening, and once he finds it, he’ll pop you open like a clam.

It seems inevitable. Still, he’ll have to work for it, if he wants you to let him in. He’s already set himself the first of his Herculean tasks, to get you painting again. It would be easier to face the Nemean lion. Your grief has sharp teeth, unblunted even after a decade, still dug deep into your heart.

“You aren’t painting,” John says in your ear. His hands settle on your shoulders, holding you in your seat when surprise would launch you a few centimetres into the air.

You turn your head to look at him, and he’s far too close. “You aren’t working.”

“Takin’ a break. You look like you’re thinkin’ hard about something. What’s on your mind, Doll?”

“Your garden. Must have been a storm of misfortunes to make you give up.”

“Few things get the better of me, but this was one of ‘em. Have to settle for buyin’ produce at the shops like everyone else.”

“It’s not really so hard.”

“You the expert in gardening?”

“No, I just used to help my gran with her garden. Picked up a thing or two about keeping green things alive.” You take a dry paintbrush and dust it over his fingertips idly.

“That the one we talked to today?” he asks.

“No, that’s Lola. Gran is the Scottish one.”

He hums, smooths out tension in your shoulders with his thumbs, catching the slightest touch of your skin at the collar of your sweater. "Didn't think you had family in the UK."

You tip your head back, looking up at him. He shifts, leaning his forearms on the back of the chair, hanging over you. "Just my Gran, she got remarried a bit before we moved to Manchester. She thought her husbands-- Well, I'll say kids, but they were full adults, older than my mam already-- She thought they were more respectable than my parents. Wouldn't categorize her as a real warm and fuzzy lady."

"You don't talk then?"

"No. Not since my parents died. We had a proper row at the funeral and she's never apologized, and I'm certainly not going to."

"Learnin' a lot about you today, Doll."

“That I’m stubborn and that I distance myself from the people that love me?” you ask, flicking the paintbrush at the tip of his nose. His whole face scrunches, and it’s kind of endearing. You’re already feeling soft about him from this morning, because Lola liked him, and because he didn’t ask if she spoke English, just launched right into Spanish that was a maybe a little rough around the edges, but good enough.

“That,” he agrees. “But I think it’s good that you hold your ground. You’re not stubborn for the sake of it, you say what needs to be said. I’d bet good money that you were in the right.”

“It doesn’t always matter who’s right and who’s wrong, John. Sometimes you have to set aside ego to make things right.”

“Tryin’ to teach an old dog new tricks?” he asks.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll teach yourself. Now go on, get. You’re distracting me.” You wrap your hands around one of his, and press a fleeting kiss to a spot between his thumb and his wrist before releasing him. “And be careful of your ankle. If you need to carry something heavy, let me help you.”

He laughs and withdraws, his shadow sliding over your page as he moves away. “Yes ma’am. You’re pretty cute when you’re bossy.”

“I’m always cute,” you say blithely.

You don’t look at him, so you miss the way he glances back over his shoulder, blue eyes burning. “You’re damn right about that.”

Ducking your head down to hide your smile, you pick your pencil up and look back to the garden. Something about the red-handled shears stuck in the soil speaks to you, so you lightly sketch it out on the page, humming to yourself quietly. The next things you need to hunt down are your headphones and the old mp3 player so you can listen to music while you paint.

There’s something soothing about hearing John work anyway. The whirr of his drill as he screwed framing lumber into place, or the buzz of his saw when he cuts pieces to size. He’s methodical, exacting— What makes him so good at building probably made him a poor gardener too. He can cut and fit pieces of wood together to make any shape he pleases, he can make a plan and nothing will fight back against it, beyond a warped bit of lumber here and there, but a garden grows as it will, and there’s no controlling the wind or the sun or the rain, let alone the creatures that might come looking for something tender and green.

That same struggle plays out between the two of you. He sees a map and a destination where you see a landscape. The journey, the exploration, is what matters to you, the light and shadow, the soft growing things and the hungry teeth that nip at the roots. In his mind he’s already built a house at the top of the hill, and he wants to pull you inside, lay you down, plant his seeds in a different garden, watch something new grow. It’s not simply impatience, but a need for control, for surety.

He exerts that control outwards, bending the world to the shape he likes. You’ve always turned it inwards, pulling in on yourself, turning your life into a safe little cocoon, turning deprivation and isolation into an art. Constructing masks to get you through, reliable scripts, being whomever you need to be to make things easier.

And perhaps it was easy, but it was lonely too.

Maybe they really had done you a favour. By pulling you out of your comfortable routine, they’ve forced you to face yourself, for the first time in ages, to ask yourself what it is that you want, to see who you are.

You feel like a butterfly, wings still damp and unfurling, perched in John’s hand. He could risk letting you fly away, or he could force you to stay by destroying some integral part of you. There’s no telling which path he intends to take, not yet.

You can just hope.

It might be insane— It certainly feels insane— but you really want him to be a good man. Not just out of self-preservation, although it probably weighs something in the equation, but because you want him. He’s right when he says there’s something here, something that’s been rolling around in the back of your mind since Ghost dumped you in his lap. It hasn’t even been a week, but it feels longer.

You keep half an eye on him while you put the first pale washes of colour onto paper. A few small versions first, to get a handle on light and shadow, colour values, just to remember how to mix colours the way you want to, and then start on the larger version, feeling a little more confident.

You’ve just blocked in the base colours when you notice that John’s limping again, and showing no sign of stopping his work. Sighing, you set your paintbrush down and stand. “John,” you say gently, putting yourself in the path between the saw set up and his lumber pile. “It’s time to take a break.”

“No, I’m fine, Doll. Get back to your painting.” He tries to move around you, but you side-step and block his path again. “It’s just a sprain,” he says, exasperated. “I’ve worked through worse.”

As if that was a good reason to ignore pain. “And you never considered that maybe you shouldn’t have had to?”

He frowns down at you. The difference in your heights has to be at least a foot, but he has a funny way of tucking in his chin and hanging his head when you’re standing close like this, and looking at you straight on anyway. A soft little hand settles on his stomach, unbidden— You’re not sure that you’ve instigated contact with him before, it’s always been him reaching out for you, his big hands achingly gentle. Is anyone ever gentle with him? Is he ever gentle with himself?

“The work will still be here tomorrow,” you remind him. “You have time to rest.”

A raindrop splashes on your outstretching arm. The two of you look up in tandem, at a heavy grey cloud that’s rolled over head— It hasn’t blocked out the sun yet, and neither of you had noticed it creeping up— and then at each other. “Guess the weather agrees with you,” John says.

You both scramble apart and into action. John covers the pile of lumber and the saw with tarps, weighed down with a few odd bricks so they won’t blow away, and you quickly pack up the water colours and your paintings. You don’t get there in time to stop a few splashes of rain from hitting the page, but you get everything inside before it’s completely soaked and set it on the kitchen table for the moment.

While you’re filling the kettle and looking outside, watching the rain splash against the window, John comes in too, and looks at your work. “The rain ruined it,” he says. “I should have been paying more attention to the weather.” There’s guilt in his voice, as if it’s his fault that the rain chose to fall where and when it did.

You set the kettle to boil, and join him, studying the paintings. Each of them unrefined— The smaller ones are just work-ups anyway, but the raindrops have warped the colours, creating voids with saturated edges. You wouldn’t say they’re ruined. There’s an artistry to incident, story preserved on paper in a way that your art wouldn’t do alone.

“No, I like it better this way,” you say decisively. “It underlines the theme of futility, don’t you think? How we’re at the mercy of the weather, whether we like it or not.”

“S’pose so,” he admits grudgingly.

His mouth is set so it almost disappears under his moustache. He really does hate the reminder that he has no control over some things. You dash upstairs and grab a couple of towels and tuck them under your arm, and take John’s hand, leading him out onto the front porch.

He follows you without resistance, although there’s a funny, curious look on his face. “What’re you doing?”

You let go, and put the towels down on the bench. “What does it look like I’m doing?” The rain is coming steadily now, the sky turned darker, sun all but blotted out, and it’s cold on your skin when you step out from the shelter and into the downpour. You throw your arms out and spin, laughing.

There are many things in this life that you can’t control. Things that are fixed, unchanged and immovable, laws of nature, the whims of weather, and Captain John Price. But you have choices too. You can try to move a mountain, but you’d be better climbing over it. You can choose to struggle against the current, or let it sweep you along. You can dance in the rain rather than wish it were sunny.

And you can hold out your hand, and invite John to dance with you.

Image Credits: Banner Dividers

[klausysworld]

Hey, I know your taking a break from writing and this is my first time requesting (I hope I'm doing it right).

First of all I just wanted to say I love your writing and you honestly make my day when you post. ❤️❤️

I got the idea of a soft/sub Joseph Morgan idea where he's getting hate (can be on anything eg: Instagram, twitch) and he gets upset so the reader has to comfort him?

(Gonna make it so he’s getting hate for being with a younger women)

Deserve you

I walked into the lounge looking for my fiancé, when I found him he hand his hand against his forehead as his eyes focused on the laptop on his lap. I frowned knowing what he was doing and came to sit beside him. I closed the screen and took the laptop away.

“You know you should scroll that far in the comments” I told him while moving my leg over him to straddle his lap as he sighed and leaned back, looking up at me with glossy eyes.

“I didn’t even scroll that far” he whispered

I nodded and stroked his jaw with my thumb “I’m sorry…is there any way I can help?” I ask quietly. Sometimes I worry that I hurt his career but he insists that if his ‘fans’ were really his fans they wouldn’t do this to him so he’s grateful that he knows the real ones. Plus he’s still getting offers for tv shows and such so I know there isn’t really a big hit in his life but still.

“No love, your presence is enough” he muttered with a small smile. I leaned down to kiss his lips softly making his hands move to hold my hips.

“You know that I love you” I murmur against his pink tinted lips

“I love you more” he smiled and I kissed him a little longer. His hands moved around my waist to hold me closer, pulling me up against him and pressing his oncoming hard on to me. “Maybe you can help me after all” he mused and I hummed

“Someone’s confidence just multiplied” I laughed and his mouth formed a grin

“All part of the job” he joked but the reality of it was a little upsetting and I frowned at him

“You don’t have to pretend when we’re here” I told him “you know I love you no matter what, you know that right? No more acting, you’re home”

“I really do love you” he whispered

“Well I love you more so how about…” I pushed him back gently so he was leant against the couch cushions “…you let me take care of you” I mumbled while lifting his jumper over his head revealing his bare upper body “you can just lay back…maybe have a drink hm?” I leant back and grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine, pouring it and bringing the drink to his lips that were tugged up into a smile. “You know I’ll treat you” I whispered and he let out a breath while his hips shifted in their spot.

“Love…” he trailed but his eyes only watched as I pushed up on my knees and my hands unbuttoned and zipped his jeans before shuffling them down his legs and pushing them to the ground “you’re making a mess” he mumbled and I raised my brows

“I thought you liked to be a little messy” I recollected and he blushed. I sat back down on his thighs and let my hands wonder the edge of his boxers. “Know that those people don’t deserve you” I whispered, my lips ghosting his neck as I leaned down.

“I don’t deserve you” he uttered and I shook my head

“You deserve so much more.” I corrected while slowly moving my hips to rub against his underwear making his lips part and his hands to glide up to my neck, brushing his fingers over my throat up to my face

“You mean everything to me” he whispered. I smiled and kissed his lips briefly before moving back to his neck and sucking the skin softly. “You know that I love your mouth sweetheart but…god I just want to be inside you” he muttered and I breathed out a laugh.

“I can tell” I hummed and he cleared his throat a little embarrassed before his hands worked my jeans down my ass and off of my ankles.

He let out a hot breath as he gave a gentle squeeze to my ass, “you’re not wearing any underwear” he whispered and I gave a small ‘mhm’ back

“I thought you’d prefer it that way” I almost questioned and he nodded

“Definitely…you don’t normally go without do you? This isn’t something all women are doing now right because-“ i cut him off with a laugh and shook my head

“No to both Joe, I had planned to jump you later so decided to make it easier for us both. It’s not a common occurrence, don’t worry it’s not a young person thing” I teased and he huffed

“I’m not all that much older” he grumbled and I gave him a lopsided smile

“No? You don’t think you could be my daddy?” I purred and he glared at me. “Perhaps you’d rather be my baby” I grinned and he rolled his eyes

“You know what, I don’t care what you call me as long as it has the word ‘my’ before it” he whispered and I smiled.

“My Joseph” I murmured while he leant up to kiss me softly. Our lips moved together in sync as my tongue pushed through his parted lips and caressed his. He let out a groan into my mouth, his hand held the back of my head and he opened his mouth a little more. “Take these off” I whispered muffled by his tongue while fiddling with his underwear making him grunt and nod. He rolled over on the sofa to be on top of me and kicked his boxers off.

My nails pressed against the soft skin of his ass as he finally stripped his last barrier resulting in a low moan from his lips to mine. “The condoms are upstairs” he mumbled with a sigh. His lips pressed to a mine a few more time before he went to get up

“Just stay” I whispered and he looked down confused

“But-“

“Just put a baby in my Joseph, I want one” I murmured and his jaw went slack. His body nearly fell down to mine as his mouth crashed against mine and he deepened the moment. I moaned into him as his body began to roll to mine, his now fully hard cock rubbing against my soaked cunt.

“You wanna baby?” He whispered between sloppy kisses as he groaned softly and I nodded with a hot breath of air. “Please tell me you really mean it y/n” he pleaded.

I bought my hand to his cheek and pushed him a little bit so our noses brushed each other “I wouldn’t just say something like that Joe, I promise”

“But you said you wanted to wait- love you’re only 20 and-“

“Joseph, Joseph I want to. Look at me..” I encouraged while gently switching our positions and getting on top “..I’ve thought about it okay? Let me, please?”

“If you’re certain” he whispered and I smiled.

“I’m always certain when it comes to you” I muttered while sinking down onto him with a gasp from myself and a groan from him. “Fuck” I moaned feeling him all that much better without a condom and clearly so did he as his brows knitted together in pleasure.

“Please keep moving” he breathed out with a sigh. I gripped the arm one the chair behind his head and slowly slid back and forth along him.

“Are you comfortable enough?” I asked quietly

“Never been better sweetheart” he murmured with his eyes fluttering shut. I stroked his cheek and jaw lovingly while beginning to move a bit faster. My head fell forward as his tip slid against my velvety walls. My hips abruptly quickened making his arms wrap around my waist and a loud moan to ring out from his open mouth.

“God you’re gonna kill me” he whispered and I laughed. I leaned back to bounce up and down on my knees a little faster and having him reach further inside me.

“Fuck Joe, Fuck!” I yelled and his back arched to a full curve, his hips thrust up inside me and a loud cry left my lips. My walls tightened around him and my nails dug into the sofa arm.

A gasp left my lips as I felt something hot encase my nipple, I looked down to see his eyes already on mine while his lips pulled at my left nipple with a guttural groan. His face pressed into my breast as they bounced over his face and his tongue flickered over it.

“God” I breathed as both out bodies moved to meet each others with a repetitive clapping sound. His mouth let go of my tit to release a long breath of air.

“How ~nph~ how close are you love?” He practically whimpered out and I smiled while panting my way through.

“Just- just a little bit over” I whispered trying to shift the angle of my hips to have him hit over my g-spot. My head went back as his hands grabbed my hips harshly and he bucked up into me

“There love?” He whispered and I nodded with a gasp, the corners of my mouth pulling up at the familiar sensation running through me. I leaned forward as my entire body rocked back and forth so fast my breasts were jumping and my hair was going everywhere until his hands moved to brush it back and tuck it behind my ears.

One of my hands moved to rub furiously at my clit while my other collapsed so my forehead lay against the arm of the chair and his mouth once again latched onto my tit but the other side this time.

“Joseph” I moaned as I felt something warm flooding through me. He groaned loudly against my chest and his body tensed against mine. The pure heat that filled me had my insides flipping and a long cry leaving my lips as I relaxed on top of him. I came to a stop, my eyes closed and my chest rising and falling while he kissed the swells of my breasts gently before pushing his face inbetween both of them and licking up the valley.

I let out a soft moan and leant back to sit up properly with make his mouth part with me. His hands moved up to fondle my boobs as he smiled lazily up at me. His eyes glanced down between us and gently ran his hands over my thighs.

“I love you so much” he whispered and I smiled.

“I love you too, more than you know” I uttered while lifting myself off of him. My hand stroked his now soft cock listening to the little hiss that he made from the sensitivity. “You wanna go again? Or you wanna go lay in a bath together?” I asked gently and he grinned

“We can’t do both?” He asked and I mirrored his expression

“Told you that you like to be messy” I whispered while getting up and pulling him with me to the bathroom…

[goldeneyedgirl]

12 kisses: march: scars, anathema.

Wow, it's been a hot minute since I posted anything. I'm kind of back? I've finished a semester successfully, just waiting for grades and information on next semester (I'm lowkey excited about my ofic that I'm writing for school), and just dealing with more health stuff plus I live surrounded by varying levels of Other People's Nonsense that I am involved in dealing with for an unknown reason.

But I'm back to writing fic, and thought I'd upload some stuff that's been marinating since February. First up, catching up on the 12kisses meme with something from Anathema. This looked different in my head but it's cute and it's building up Jasper's Anathema backstory, so I'm happy.

Asks will be answered, chapters will be finished,but today I'm just doing warmups and fic housekeeping.

12 kisses: march: scars, anathema

[ scars ] a gentle kiss on the partner’s scars

I’m frozen solid by the time we make it home, shivering under three layers of soaked clothing - I’m not entirely sure my puffer jacket is ever going to recover from this. It’s less ‘puff’ and more ‘soggy’ now.

“We need to get you warm and dry,” Jasper said, sounding stressed, as I fumbled with the house keys, my fingers numb. He’d been worried since he bundled me into the car; he was so protective of me. I might have been miserably cold, but there was no way I’d get sick from twenty minutes cold. But Jasper preferred to err on the side of caution - my human half - rather than risk me getting so much as a paper cut.

It was pretty cute, honestly.

“First stop, the shower.” I flipped on the lights as we went in; the entire house was dark. Freddie and Dulcie were at the conference in Seattle all weekend, and it had taken a lot of effort to convince them to let me stay home alone rather than going with them, or staying with the Clearwaters (not that I was on entirely good terms with the Clearwater since Jasper showed up. Sue was positively distant with me lately.) But I definitely needed to convince Dulcie or Freddie to let me get a cat - especially for nights when I was on my own. Not that it happened all that often. Hell, Dulcie had even offered to let me stay at her place, but I was happier here - especially since Jasper had upgraded my laptop and fixed the wifi.

Half-tripping up the stairs - my toes were numb in my boots with cold, I found the apartment was slightly more welcoming since I’d accidentally left the living room lamp on. My clothes were leaving a trail of water behind me, and my hands were shaking as I pulled out dry clothes and a towel, leaving a set for Jasper to dry off.

“Shower, Alice,” Jasper said firmly. “You’re freezing.”

“At least dry off your clothes,” I said, clenching my teeth to stop them chattering. “Use the dryer.” I could see him on the fence about that idea. “I can’t warm up and them get cold again from your wet clothing.”

“Go shower,” he said, and I knew I’d won as he gently pushed me towards the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, I was toasty warm in a giant sweater, leggings, and the socks that Dulcie had knitted me for Christmas. My hair was ridiculously frizzy and I had tried to pin it down the best I could, but it still looked childish.

I dumped my clothes in the hamper to be dealt with in the morning before I wandered back through the apartment and out onto the landing where Jasper was drying his clothing. Our ‘laundry’ was in a closet on the landing because we had nowhere else to put it until someone (most likely Dulcie) cleared out the second floor so we could use it again.

Jasper was standing there in his jeans, checking his phone as his sweatshirt dried, and I was fully intending on just enjoying the view - he was staunchly old-fashioned towards me, but I had quickly worked out it was a defence mechanism. It was easier for him to fall back into the vague social expectations of his human life right now because everything was overwhelming. I’d cheerfully bullied him into doing things like holding my hand, and curling up on my bed with me to watch a movie, but both of those things were done fully clothed and there was still a very respectful distance between us.

That is to say, I had never seen him shirtless. And I had wanted to mentally imprint the imagine on my brain for the foreseeable future (I was very doubtful that being defiled on a gurney downstairs was going to be come to pass before I turned thirty), except…

The scars.

I knew he hand them; there were some on his arms and hands that I’d see, a couple of shallow ones on his face. He’d told me about life in the south and everything that happened with Maria and Peter, but I’d always felt that he was holding something back.

Now I had proof. The scars on his back overlapped; they looked like claws had dug into his shoulder blade and travelled down to his opposite hip. There were nicks in the skin and bite marks and smaller scratches.

And when he put his phone back in his pocket, all the muscles and skin pulled tightly against the scar tissue; I inhaled sharply. I know bodies. I know how they fit together, how they move. Human bodies aren’t even the same as vampire bodies; I know that. The venom does horrific things to the tissue and the muscle and the ligaments and the joints… But all I could think of was how every time Jasper moved, the scar tissue would try to stop him.

Jasper turned around when he heard me, his eyes wide. And I got even more of an eyeful. The damage on his chest and stomach were… different to his back. Not better or worse, just different. At one point, it look like he had been torn open from clavicle down to his stomach. Scratches, gouges, bites littered his body and all I could do was stare.

It wasn’t like anything I had ever faced downstairs. Even the bear attacks or falls weren’t like this. Because no human had to go on living with the remains of those fates. Jasper did.

“Alice, I…” he began and I shook my head, already moving.

“Oh Jasper,” I managed, before I flung my arms around him. His skin was cold against my face, but it was reassuring - I had become used to the fact that he was always going to be cold, or room-temperature at best. It was comforting and familiar now.

He stood rigidly in my grasp for a moment, before I felt his hand rest gently on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend for you to see this,” he said so kindly I wanted to cry. “I just wanted to dry my clothing before you came out, I’m sorry.”

I frowned at him. There was a horrific scar where his neck joined his shoulder, and I could see the teeth marks at the edges. “Why are you sorry?”

“It’s not an easy sight,” Jasper said, and he looked away from me. “It wasn’t something I wanted you to ever have to deal with.”

Well. Apparently I grossly overestimated gurney-defilement at age thirty; Jasper had planned on it being never.

A million things raced through my head when he said that. Jokes about wedding nights, frustration that he thought I was too delicate to deal with reality, the insistence that it didn’t matter because it did, to him. He was apart of a family without blemish - some shadows from the scars that changed them but nothing even remotely close to what Jasper bore. Maybe it had been the Cullens that had taught Jasper to hide them, to cover them up, and I felt frustration rise up in me.

“I cannot stand the idea of you hurting,” I blurted out, my fingers twisting through the belt loops in his jeans. “Do they hurt now?”

He watched me, frowning, for a second. “No, they haven’t hurt in a very long time,” he said, and I felt the ghost of confusion drift over my skin. “They’re just there, they won’t ever fade.”

“But your back, I could see the muscles pulling,” I said. The idea that Carlisle, a surgeon, hadn’t done anything about Jasper’s scarring was stressing me out. I’d cut more than one scar through on the bodies downstairs, so that they could lay flat and look comfortable.

“I can feel some of them, but they don’t hurt or restrict me. Vampire skin doesn’t work that way,” Jasper said soothingly. “It simply moves with me. If there was resistance, they’d tear.”

A shudder that ran through me as I curled closer to him. “I don’t like that,” I said honestly. I’d see torn, cracked vampire flesh once, a couple of years ago when a nomad needed to be disposed of. It didn’t look real.

“We treated our wounds to make sure we didn’t lose movement, Alice.” His voice is kind and patient, and I hate that he’s comforting me. “It would be a death sentence otherwise.”

“How did they happen?” I asked, absently tracing one on his arm. “What animal did these?”

Jasper sighed; it was the kind of sigh that came from so much time and misery. “Newborns. Maria. Battles. No animals, just monsters,” he sounded tired. “I’m sorry Alice, I didn’t want you to have to see this side of us. Of me.”

I shook my head. “Sit. I want to know,” I said. Sinking to the floor, I immediately sat in his lap, curled against him. “You should have told me before.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Jasper replies smartly, grabbing my hand and stretching out my arm, to push up my sweater sleeve. Three scars along the arm that I never really thought about; they were smooth against the rest of my skin.

“That’s easy,” I said. “That one, when I broke my arm as a kid - bone tore straight through the skin, I screamed like I was on fire. Jeanie nearly had a heart attack when she found me. I only needed three weeks in a cast.

“That one was a dog bite. Mrs O’Brian, who owned the camping store before the Newtons moved to town, had this retriever. I’d never met a retriever that wasn’t super friendly. He just sunk his teeth into me and shook. I thought Freddie was going to kill the dog and Mrs O’Brian.” I shrugged. “And the last one - was getting ready to work on a body downstairs, and I had a vision when I picked up the scalpel. I fainted and stabbed myself pretty badly. Sue had to give me a bunch of stitches.”

Jasper’s fingers were cool against my arm as he traced the marks. “Any others?”

“I mean, there’s a burn scar on my stomach from when I leaned over my hair straightener,” I said. “A couple of shaving cuts around my ankles. One on my thigh from when I tripped in the forest. These are just living scars, Jas. Not like yours.”

Jasper nodded but was still focusing on the marks on my arm.

“It.. it wasn’t something we worried about,” he says, quietly. “Newborns were cannon fodder, it didn’t matter what happened to them. If they were too far gone, we’d just destroy them - we didn’t want to waste the resources to heal them up again.

“But I had to be on the frontline for us to win, to stay in control,” he continued. “I was a target; everyone knew that without me, Maria couldn’t control an army that size or hold her territory.

“Maria or… Peter would be the one to put me back together. Peter would try not to make a big deal out of it. But Maria, she’d tell me how bad it was. That I needed to fight smarter, that it didn’t have to be this bad. That I was wasting blood and time.” He shivered and looked up at me. “‘It won’t be worth keeping you around much longer’. That’s what she said to me at the end. As if I wasn't still winning, as if she didn’t have her territory.”

Jasper shook his head. “So I get to walk around like this.” The bitterness and self loathing in his voice was evident, even without the emotions boiling around him. “The Cullens, they made sure I stayed covered up for the first couple of years. Esme and Rose, they have histories with violence, and they needed to feel I was safe…”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and try to wrestle down the flare of anger I feel at the idea Jasper was made to feel like a monster, a dirty secret, because he’d been raised in a war zone.

“You deserve so much better, Alice.” The tenderness in his voice was heartbreaking. “If things were different - if I was stronger - I never would have let myself get close to you. A better version of me, in a perfect world. Someone whole and normal who isn’t like this.”

He buried his face in my hair, his arms firm around me as if he was holding on for dear life. And I am stricken. I am not an idiot, I knew that Jasper struggled. That the human facade and living this way was like wearing ill-fitting clothes for him. That I terrified him in so many ways, but especially how easily I had accepted him and invited him closer.

And his second life had taught him one lesson over and over again; that in the end, he would be alone. Cast out, broken, used up. Nettie and Lucy, Maria, Peter… the lesson had stuck. And a few months together wasn’t enough to erase those decades of misery, of bone-deep fears.

My lips press against the snarl of the scar on his neck, and I felt him shiver underneath my touch. I knew I was turning red - there was something so intimate about the gesture, even though I didn’t intend anything salacious.

“I need you to know I love you as you are,” I said, his face still tucked in my hair. “That this you is my you, and there’s not a single thing I would change about you.”

“To me, you are perfect,” I heard him murmur into my hair. I didn’t know if he was reassuring himself with words I’d told him before or telling that to me, but I didn’t get a chance to clarify; he looked up and tilted my head back, his thumb absently stroking my cheek.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, and there was something so sad yet so fierce in his gaze.

“And I’ve done nothing to deserve someone like you,” I replied. “We’re a perfect match. I adore you.”

Jasper chuckled, and there was a flicker in his eyes for moment as he seemed to lean closer… but whatever was going to be said or happen after that was lost as the dryer let out a thunk, a wheeze, and a chime to let us know that Jasper’s shirt was now dry.

“Time to go inside,” he said, the moment gone as he rose to his feet, helping me up before grabbing his sweatshirt from the dryer.

“I really was enjoying the show,” I said mournfully as he tugged his sweatshirt on. Jasper let out a surprised chuckle, and reached for me again.

“Time and patience, Alice,” he said in a funny way; all-knowing and reassuring but with a new warmth to his words. “All good things arrive eventually.”

I smiled up at him as he took my hand and lead me towards the apartment door.

For him, I would wait forever.

[wanda-little-baby]

Twin Surprises - Wanda Maximoff x romanoff!Reader

Summary (pt. 2) : The second half of a particular day, you have a party to prepare and probably perhaps you will succeed

Warnings: very light swearing, culinary messes, alcohol and what follows, maybe there's more?

A/N: There you go, it took me longer than expected, because among other things a week ago my laptop died and this moron that I am was unable to access the account, so here it is with some delay <3

Words: <6K

(⬆️*spoiler*⬆️)

Honestly, the only reason why you took today as a day off is because today is Wanda's birthday, also Pietro's, calculating that they are twins, but in any case she doesn't know that you know this vital information and until tonight you would prefer her to stay Like this.

In fact, if you hadn't seen the date on the files at the time of Ultron, and then subsequently asked Pietro for confirmation, most likely you wouldn't even know when your girlfriend and her brother was born.

The curious case of the strange family bartender never seen who probably (surely, by now a fact) could have super speed now no longer pushes the strings of your curiosity, you could ask advice from Vision later for a guess you would have made, but still Wanda's birthday is more important.

You have start with your little group of friends, Pietro would have had to keep Wanda away from the compound for at least two hours, just long enough to put the decorations, the cake and everything else, and you and Kate would have taken care of that everything else plus decorations and cake. Exceptional case you did it with Natasha, you texted her in her absence about everything you were putting together and luckily she's back just in time.

Trembling with excitement you had a hard time masking your incoherent happiness which suddenly appeared out of nowhere, especially when dealing with a telepathic girlfriend, but still you made it, finally Pietro and Wanda are officially away from home for the next two hours (hopefully). Now all you need is your team.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

You and Kate walked around the compound, abruptly interrupted everyone from what they were doing and as if nothing was there you both dragged everyone into the kitchen/lounge.

In addition to the thousand questions, which both you and the archer will rightly answer in right time, time plays his part. "So, you're all wondering why Kate and I dragged you here..." with dangling hands, you push to get to where you want them

"Nah I'm more terrified of that crazy smile Kate has"

"I might have an idea" Vision as always, try to express, an idea about everything could almost say. "No Vis trust me you don't have it" absolutely certain, Kate denies any idea, the secret information for weeks only you, Kate and Pietro knew.

"thus... we gathered you here because... it's the birthday of the twins" in the end you blurt out the fact. "and we are planning a surprise party!!!" with so much enthusiasm, much more than you, Kate almost bursts with happiness.

"We need your help, basically only you are not involved, yet" you ask very kindly, gesturing as usual in a very hurried way.

Through shared looks, brief moments of non-verbal (not even mental) communication, you could say that if these here don't accept, Kate would most likely make them accept so much that she trembles to organize this party.

"they are setting us up" silently, not quite, Sam whispers to the poor synthezoid next to him. "it's called team spirit!!!" Kate, which unfortunately overheard, exclaims indignantly.

"I think it could be a bonding activity, it wouldn't hurt to try" so as not to miss, this time in your favor (yeah <3), from its crammed corner in the kitchen, the ai in an almost indestructible body makes one of his comments. "thanks Vis" happy, you thank him.

Thank god, as a good gentleman of the 40's Steve is always available to help where possible. "so what should we do?"

Following another nod of glances between you and the archer you begin to give the tasks. "Okay. Cap, you take care of the decorations, you are a super soldier use these powers" you turn to Steve, explaining to him in detail what he has to do.

Once you're done with the super soldier, you move on to the person who at the same time knows how to be the most annoying and supportive in this huge building, better known as Sam Wilson. "Second, Birdman, you have the drinks, no booze, I don't want it to end like most of Tony's parties, it's a party birthday" you communicate passing over the grimace that comes to you at the mere sound of the word 'Birdman', obviously from the birdman himself.

And third but not third, you pass to the dear synthezoid willing to understand human emotions. "Lastly, Vis, I need some help in the kitchen, you'll be my assistant cook. All clear?" you conclude, looking for further doubts, mostly clarifications because you were very specific.

"And what is the archer up to here?" very pretentious, almost as if he wanted to insinuate something, Sam beckoned to the brunette across the room, a sigh escaped your lips. "Kate will take care of the music, in short, general entertainment, we don't want it to be a funeral home, and if you have any doubts, ask her, she's in charge while I'm in the kitchen" you reiterate, also pointing to the friend in question right next to you, a succession of looks and confirmations between you and her, while you overlook the 'little' puff you heard.

Full of charged emotions as well as tasks to do, you are ready to start this operation, or rather to finish it because it started already weeks ago. "Good. Avengers, let's start the birthday party operation in less than two hours" with folded hands you finish your speech, thrilled by the final result.

"It's terrible name" and "Shut up Sam!" it could be the phrases that followed the name of the operation, and you might even have rolled your eyes at the bickering between Kate and Sam, but surely in the end you know that everything will work out.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

"Vision, how much do you know about Sokovian cooking?" taking quite a few ingredients out of the fridge and various pantries, ask more for general knowledge, to the synthezoid in the role of assistant chef.

"In the Sokovian cuisine as in most of the Slavic peoples there is an abundant use of spices" following you like a dog with its master from one end of the kitchen to the other, it provides data that one cannot fail to notice its robotic nature.

You nod and as you get some bowls and a whisk and the eggs, you mumble. "Hmm it's useless anyway, we need the sweet side of the kitchen. Sokovian pastry that's what we'll do today" placing the objects from your clumsy hands on the island in the center of the room, you begin the plan for the next two intense hours of preparation.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

Meanwhile in evening New York

Convincing Wanda to go out on her birthday was complicated enough even for her twin. The fact that no one, or at least Wanda believed so, knew that today was in fact the birthday of the Maximoff twins, especially the girlfriend of a certain green-eyed brunette, only gave her more weight, and now it was never too late to say something like "Hey it's my birthday today, sorry I didn't tell you sooner but I didn't want to rehash all my destroyed childhood", but really Wanda wants nothing more than to be not intrusive.

The more or less complex key was getting a short loan of Lucky, the golden retriever that Kate had found on the street during a cold December night, before meeting all your merry gang. Of course, Kate loves Wanda very much but his pride put a lot of pressure on the speedster, but in the end Pietro gave in and took courage, after all she is his sister.

Having a dog running around in a billion dollar facility is (probably) not a good thing but hey at least Lucky is quiet, plus he likes pizza and that's a big plus. That's why under the guise of a walk with the literal Avengers mascot, just to de-stress, there were now twins and a dog on the loose on the streets of New York.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

There have been many attempts, really many. So many cakes and various desserts that came out wrong, it would be the fourth time you'd be trying to redo the dough.

You were throwing in the trash with a funeral face when you turned to see an atrocity in progress (yet another of the day). "No no no. Stop!" quickly you run trying to stop the massacre, yet another almost failed attempt, then you remember that you have powers and forcibly remove the spatula from the hands of the cake-killer synthezoid.

"Want to tell me what the hell you were going to do?!" taking the bowl out of your hands, and removing this still undamaged dough as far as possible, you scold Vision for the umpteenth time. "At this point the recipe called for mixing and I was doing it" he replies confused, if the recipe calls for this why are you angry? Human emotions are still a partial mystery to him.

You sigh at his statement, indeed it's true, he had to mix, only that's exactly what he did the other three wrong times, so maybe that's where the mistake is. "You're right. But what do you say if we put a little more flour and maybe this time I'll check if we put sugar instead of salt?" you propose exhausted, placing the bowl on the counter again, with your hands on your hips and already all covered in flour on your arms and bits of your face. "It is a mistake not to be repeated, perhaps adding some more flour could give the required result" comments the red robot thoughtfully, surely inside his mind full of vibranium circuits and the strange gem he has set on his forehead he will be calculating the variable billions possible from this choice, he always does.

"You flour, I sugar. Do you think you can do it?" handing him the bowl, you nod questioningly. "I can try," he replies, optimistic as a human would say, given his previous failures.

While you make sure you have taken the sugar and not the salt, not like the first cake which was practically perfect, just one small detail, it is salty to die for, you hear a thud and then a kind of poof, and when you turn around what you see is exhilarating.

Vision covered head to toe in flour, green and yellow clothes, red skin and everything else completely whitened, only the luminous gem stands out among all the rest. Such a show gives you what out of three failed attempts in the kitchen you deserve, a good laugh. The fact that Vision then looks at you curious as to why you're bursting with laughter only adds to the hilarity of the moment.

"I-if… if you're going to say 'do I have something on my face?' I swear I may never stop laughing" holding back more laughter just so I can talk, you warn him, you really may not stop laughing. Just at this moment, between laughter and another, your best archer enters the chaotic kitchen, who is also amazed by the condition of the synthezoid.

"Oh my god Vision! Did you by any chance give the body a whitewash?" jokingly, Kate makes fun of the white condition covering a Vision quite confused by your reactions. "No no it snowed a few seconds ago!" you join the line of jokes, really in need of this kind of rest. "Miss Bishop, Miss Romanoff, I don't understand the reason for these laughs" naked and raw, as only he knows how to be, in his confusion, still covered in flour to make him look like a vibranium Everest, the synthezoid observes. "It doesn't matter Vis, i-it was fun anyway" still recovering, between a few muffled giggles you wipe some flour off the robot's shoulders.

"Alright, I didn't come here to laugh but anyway... there's a problem there" Kate too with a roll of eyes tries to go on, underlining the problem. As if you felt a ghost pierce your body you turn and your eyes go wide, not ready to know what went wrong.

"I found my favorite pair of 'missing' shoes all gnawed away in the recesses of my closet" pulling the pair of shoes now only to be trashed from behind her back, she says again bewildered that she has been betrayed by her furry pizza-loving dog. "And then, and this is the worst part, from there I think Sam really didn't respect the no alcohol fact and Steve doesn't seem to understand that he has to do the exact opposite of what he's doing" with an air of just exhausted, Kate puts her hand to her forehead, this party hasn't even started and it's already a catastrophe.

You dramatically bangs her head on Vision's chest several times, desperate from the situation, the kitchen sucks, ditto over there... it would take a miracle.

"News from Clint? Tony? Someone, tell me at least something is going according to plan" you complain, continuing to bang your head on Vision's vibranium chest, some lumps of flour fall on you. Kate sighs "Clint is out, the little one is sick, and the whole family is basically in quarantine. Rhodey, as I was telling you he is still on a mission... while, yes Stark he is actually coming soon, nay he should be here considering you know 'him' " one by one she fills you with bad news, the air gets more and more depressing with everything in pieces, but at least there is still Tony left... yeah Tony, you aren't thrilled with what might happen as they're not yet in good shape relationships, but hope dies last.

"Ура! Could you please go over there and fix it, Katie?" almost pleading-eyed, amidst the mess in the kitchen, you speak to your friend. "I would have already gone to lend a hand but, anyway, if you don't mind I need Vision, could you lend it to me?" coquettishly, approaching your position, from the entrance, she puts her arm in arm with the synthezoid looking between you two and with a brief exchange of glances absolutely without even thinking about it you mutter a 'yeah, no problem at all'.

Surely it's not that he really needs Vision, she needs him to stay away from you that's all, the kitchen is an example and Vision really doesn't know how to cook, it's not his fault it's just that he's a robot and has literally never cooked nor eaten before, and then surely to keep him busy it won't hurt them to listen to human relationships, after all he wants to understand us.

As Kate literally drags Vision away from the battlefield that has become the poor kitchen, you lip a 'thanks' directed at her so she can get the message. Now with the free kitchen, you literally have to do it all over again in much less time and you probably also have to write to Pietro to keep Wanda away a little longer, even if she might get suspicious.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

With a flick of the wrist you change your clothes to some less floury ones, tie a quick knot in the apron around your waist and roll up the sleeves. Give your floury hair a good clean with a few shakes, and style it into a bun so it doesn't get in front of your face, and you're ready to go.

Not knowing literally how much or what specifically should be consumed at a birthday party, and with time running out, you improvise.

From what you have understood in recent years, anything, whatever power you have, is greatly influenced by emotions, the stronger they are and the greater the power they release, in short, you have had examples of it.

With a huge din, with a flick of the wrists, all the pots, ladles, spoons, loads of other objects come out of their closets and in an orderly dance on a reddish river they float through the kitchen. One by one, commanded by the co-pilot, they are set aside in sections, various pastries being prepared at the same time, while only the cake remains for you, the fifth one this time to be made again.

As you predicted, or as Kate had told you, Tony arrived shortly after your accelerated preparation starts and almost gave you a heart attack, causing a culinary catastrophe, so you dismissed him with a red-eyed gaze that could rival those of an angry Natasha.

Speaking of the redhead, your mother didn't fail to arrive quite later, but this time it will have been for feeling or because you are practically almost coded to hear even the smallest detail that makes you feel the presence of her you were prepared.

She'd asked you if you'd like a hand in the kitchen, seeing four different groups of reddish flying things plus you all sweaty and busy, but you literally begged her to go check the living room and how the party preparations were because you weren't going to make Natasha "I can burn even water" Romanoff cook for no one reason at all, especially not now.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

Finally, after about an hour and three quarters, according to someone *cough* Vision *cough*, you were done.

Three trays of pastries, various sweets and all particular stuff, mixed from international and Sokovian cuisine. Your greatest pride is the cake, this time it's a masterpiece, finely decorated with the symbolic colors of the celebrated, a typical Sokovia recipe was the background.

It's also true that you trashed your initial project and took something else but you still have the corpses of past havoc laid on the counter, there were four deaths on this day, all newborns died, and sooner or later you'll have to get rid of them unfortunately.

You've just finished taking everything out of the stove and you should go to the living room to see how to place the food, before coming back and plating everything, and the anxiety is a lot.

You were ready for something, definitely not what you found when you came out of the kitchen and went looking for the rest of the team. The living room is breathtaking, all lit up, streamers hang from the lights, the sofas moved to make room for some tables with paper plates and cutlery on them in a row and plastic cups next to them, there are also chips and various crap, things that absolutely they had slipped your mind, the decorations scattered throughout the room that recall a little sokovia everything is great and you are... you are simply speechless.

It didn't take long for y'all to put the finishing touches, sure, you don't know who did the magic but flush wire you did it. Throwing a party may not have been one of the skills you would have expected to have to get the job done, but when you're dealing with someone like Tony Stark, you see a lot of parties and you know what to do and what not to do to avoid inconvenience (yes, you know about that party at Malibu :-| ). As luck would have it, just shortly after you've just finished everything, the robotic female voice of FRIDAY warns you of the imminent arrival of the twins, this was the time to disappear.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

In a deep silence, the lights at least not too much "help something abnormal is going on", dimmed to preserve the surprise effect. Seven of the mightiest heroes on earth have hidden themselves in the most disparate places in one of the relax room which has officially become (under your "acute observation") the living room of the compound, shortly waiting for the speedster and his beautiful sister, the celebrated.

"- yes anyway I don't believe you, surely you're plotting something" in the lobby of the floor, just outside the lift, the two Sokovians argue. "Сестра (Sestra) I would never allow myself" with his hand on his chest, as if offended, Pietro teases his sister.

A small meteorite, wearing some rings, hits the shoulder of the speedster, apparently not too fast to dodge his sister's punches. "Глупо" she murmurs at the same time as the blow, followed by a not at all serious ouch, in practice it's always the same Pietro, with his usual behavior.

Crossing the hallway, the atmosphere absolutely still if it weren't for the few lights deliberately left on, Wanda is starting to believe that something has happened, it's never so silent in here. And most of all she misses her nocturnal koala, it was a crappy day for her and she just wants to be with her favorite person, maybe this birthday mess of hers can fix it next year.

"Wait Lucky!" Wanda exclaims suddenly when the golden retriever she was holding on her leash snaps and escapes from her hands running towards the dark living room. "Why is this room so dark..." the girl gropes into the open space, looking for the light switch, the pitch dark doesn't help with the fact that Pietro suddenly seems to have disappeared, when only a few seconds ago Wanda was sure he was behind her.

All the lights in the room come on revealing the magnificent sight. "Surprise!" all the voices of the team, even Pietro, exclaim together, surrounding Wanda.

Quickly her eyes become bright with emotion. Seeing the room decorated, this group of people, with some of her she bonded more than others, all this they organized for her and her brother's birthday, she just didn't expect it.

It's pure madness that you've somehow managed to keep someone you've been plotting for so long on the back burner, considering you literally live together, but it has to be a testament that someone up there loves you.

The disbelief she feels when she finishes looking around the room and she stops right in front of you is such that even with her mouth closed in her hands she can't concentrate and speak. "Would you like to say something, Wands?" you look into her eyes that she tries to hide with her hands. In order not to show her, seized with shame, she closes the short distance between you two and hides her face against your chest.

"How did you know that?" she mumbles against your chest, sheltered a little from the outer ears.

I may have had some tips

You look towards Pietro and Wanda also follows your gaze up to her brother, several unsaid speeches you exchange. "Happy Birthday девушка из ситкома" you kiss her hairline, the last part elicits a few giggles from a certain redheaded russian, and an awww from someone corny and a close friend of yours when your mom told her what were you saying. "Well how about we start this party? Or get a room because we don't want to see this all night" pointing between you two, Tony broke that bubble you had created. And so it was that an elbow hit the side of the genius, all for a little joke about her daughter.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

Before long, the party was in full swing. If there's anything we're good at besides saving the world, most of the time, it's rocking a party. As you predicted, the polite no-alcohol request, completely trampled upon. Did you expect it? Of course. If there is Tony Stark at a party it's impossible that there isn't alcohol.

Between various chats, light music in the background and Lucky wandering from one person to another, a good part of the evening is already passing. It's right here that between a talk about uranium decomposition (I don't have a clue how we got to this) and how fast Tony's armor can go just to keep up with Pietro that Kate brings an avalanche of board games and stuff like that.

After the umpteenth game of scrabble, interrupted because you really can't play against a living dictionary, Sam's words, you have given fruit to your improvisation skills with the game of mimes.

To say it was exhilarating is an understatement, you had to guess among other things which team member one of you was imitating. Obviously there were the classics, the robot for Vision, the slightly more creative one, the right hand to the chest as if to sing the national anthem, obviously for Steve. Couldn't miss a bird, it was hilarious, it always is when it's dealing with Sam, tying the shoes is a clear tip for the team sprinter according to Steve, yet he had to give another hint.

Sam played it hard miming Natasha, he got on his knees and stayed that way until y'all understood and burst into laughter, well at least not all of you. Then it was your turn, or at least someone had to imitate you. She took revenge, your mother took revenge for laughter by imitating when you sit down you take a book in your hand and absolutely angry you start leafing through it without even reading and lightning with deadly looks anyone who approaches you even by mistake, needless to say that among all those laughing you were a little ashamed.

Wanda had a classic from her twin, the usual hand gestures and go, Tony too did it quite well of course only people who are quite night owls remember his lightning naps. Vision's imitation of Kate in one word: "pure gold". Okay maybe there are two but this is the gist, robots don't know how to mimic people and when they do it's too funny.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

In a brief moment of pause, you went to the kitchen to get more glasses and napkins, and Wanda followed. When she saw the mess in the kitchen her heart melted, she lingered on the savory pie, you had decorated it out of depression, she was almost successful and since it was salty you just put a "who cares?" because nobody would care about the pie. Instead she put her foot down and wanted you to take a picture of her holding the cake.

"Seriously?! Do you want a photo with this cake... this cake here?" amazed you look at Wanda holding the plate of cake in her hand.

The girl sighs, she will have to fight for this maybe. "Come on, it's a very good cake even if it's salty! Take this picture come on..." with two big sweet eyes, plate held in front of her, she want to bribe you with sweetness.

You raise your eyebrows, you know too well what she's doing, and she's winning... as always. "Like always, we end up doing what you want" you raise your hands theatrically along with your eyes.

Initially she doesn't seem to react to your answer but when you pick up your early 2000s instant camera and snap the picture she raises an eyebrow and satisfied, after the shoot she sticks her tongue out.

"Thank you that you're pretty" you make a fake face, when the photo is developed you shake it and look at the result.

Cute even when you make faces, or make fun of me

As a teenager, Wanda blushes from cheeks to ears, and as you look at the photo she takes your arm. "Come on cakes girl let's go enjoy the amazing party you threw for me"

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

Head back to the party, Lucky nearly knocked you over as hard as he lunged at you. "Hey puppy, you almost showed me the stars" you scratch him behind the ear, he wags his tail happily.

Having a pet isn't something you've ever done, but since Lucky's been here you've become a dog lover in a snap of your fingers. Although the first time, he peed on Vision's leg.

"Oh girls, we've been waiting for you" sitting on one of the sofas, Steve greets us. Well yes, in the few fifteen minutes perhaps, Pietro had decided to do karaoke, he had arbitrarily taken and brought a microphone with all the rest of the equipment in a flash, and there was a discussion between him and Sam about who should start.

"OH MY GOD. Like OH MY GOD. Where did you get this from!" when you turn around and see all the equipment in plain sight and Pietro handling it, you're too excited.

"Apparently someone here is full of surprises" Tony refers to the boy, surprised you might say.

After the whole Sokovia incident, even before, he feels responsible for everything that happened to the twins, if only he had realized sooner. Relationships are almost always electric between those three, he tries, you try, but it's simply too early; they spent their whole lives hating the big bad Tony Stark for killing their parents, some things are not easy to forget forgive and move on.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

After a couple of minutes you decided who started first and unfortunately few participate.

"You can't stay there and let just humiliate the four of us..." you complain talking to the four sitting on sofas, more with the three humans, for Vision it can be enough with ridiculous acts to do. "five!" Sam corrects you, he's the only one besides the four of you who wants to sing.

"Yeah, though... that's not right!" you huff angrily, if you have to fall at least they have to fall with you. "Life isn't fair" Tony retorts loudly, now you can only glare at him.

"Well I haven't sung since 1944, I wouldn't mind trying" a little joy ignites at Steve's words, even if Kate's stifled giggle makes you think it's going to end badly, but anyway you thank him. "Thanks Steve"

In a last ditch effort, you cast a questioning glance at the billionaire, so much is the question in the air. "I pay for the house, food, water, electricity and all the technological gadgets, basically I'm more of a mother than this one, isn't that enough for you?" giving a futile future to your efforts, he liquidates you by putting your mother in the middle as well.

It's normal that you pay for everything here! Who among us is a billionaire?! Literally, I don't know which of us has income in our bank accounts! Then we've got a robot, one guy that's supposed to be old and death, and a lot of other people that I don't think people would want to hire. Paying is your job

"Ты была бы очень плохой матерью в этом случае, так как мы справляемся сами" arms crossed, you grumble sulkily, he doesn't understand you anyway, so he has no reason to hear. "Ты же знаешь, что он подумает, что мы плохо о нем говорим?" Natasha answers your words with curiosity, mostly with amusement.

"Вот почему я учу языки, мама" you smirk, and slowly knowing you've got everyone's full attention basically, you spell out. Your mother rolls her eyes, gives you a smile and slowly shakes her head, she could be your accomplice "Ах да, верно, Тони Старк - негодяй" finally she says, only to alarm the interested party's ears

During the short conversation in Russian, a matter of less than a minute, you had everyone's eyes on you. And when you're done, Tony's face is almost indecipherable.

"I have no idea what you said thus in advance I feel deeply offended, so I will stay here, enjoy this delicious cocktail and your performance" obviously finding an excuse, he settles down on the sofa and sips from the glass. You give him one last look and then roll your eyes

A cough gets your attention. "Can we start?" Pietro nods to you, and you shrug.

"Kate, the stage is yours" you sit down and Kate scrolls through the song list.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

If Kate hadn't thrown herself into sports, technically into being a superhero but sport was a means, yes, however, she could devote herself to singing. Of course, the song she chose was completely wrong, but the voice is there, at least you hope.

Running away from the stage of shame, you relieved her, and after a bit of searching you found the perfect song. You dedicated it to Wanda, after all it's her birthday, and you might have gone a little too far with the saccharine stuff because you made her cry, in fact, after your performance, complete with applause, you reached her and you probably won't move from there because Wanda has no intention of letting you go from her arms.

The performance plus, something, is that of Pietro, with his behavior you could not expect otherwise, at least he made the atmosphere even lighter.

Strangely Sam's went well, no one laughed, everything perfectly. In your nerdy searches you may have found old footage from WWII, and some may even have been on Steve (*cough*A Star Spangled Man with a Plan *cough*) , but you were definitely not expecting what you got, an excellent performance.

You: Wow this went better than I expected. Hmm... Wanda?

Wanda: Yes?

You: You know it's your turn right?

Wanda: I don't want to go... come on you know I'm shy about these things. Isn't it better if I'm here with you?

You: Come on!!! At least if you don't want to make a random song take your guitar and play something with it... please?

Wanda: Don't even talk about it! I have no intention of playing... and... and then who was it that said we always do what I want?

You: I warn you, your guitar is arriving in your hands in a few seconds

Wanda: Now I hate loving you

While your girlfriend muttered to herself, and sincerely even when she pouts you want to kiss her nose, you still announce her entrance.

"Guys, you will never believe it, but now Wanda will delight us with a sweet melody played by her" absolutely convinced you announce, Wanda would like to sink into the sofa in a while and not re-emerge so as not to do it.

Wanda: Ugh... God... please bury me now

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

In the end, between grimaces and some not very serious threats, you managed to get Wanda to stand up, the guitar in your hand, and lots of love (also teasing) in her eyes.

Well if she sings like the first time I heard her then... wow

You are walking quietly in the hallway, thought you were going to the library, or maybe you were walking down to go to training, when a sweet melody caught the attention of your ears, it was Wanda. You stood for a couple of minutes at the door jamb, enchanted by the way Wanda was singing, almost angelic.

Lying on her back, on the edge of the bed, when she looked up and saw your shape, a wave of shame and embarrassment hit her.

She almost threw a pillow at your face if you didn't dodge, and then you might have apologized for scaring her.

The fact is that in the end while Wanda was singing you were there for her. And at the end of the performance, there were whistle and applause, you basically cheered Wanda.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

There was the cake after, candles and all, and the compliments you might have gotten might have boosted your foodie ego even more, but hey if you're making the cake for your girlfriend birthday it makes sense you put all your effort into it yourself.

But now, from that precise moment on, your memories are fuzzy, it must surely have been the alcohol you ingested and it didn't help the challenge between you and Pietro to see who gets the most shots; and you already a little tipsy you overlooked the fact that his accelerated metabolism makes it literally impossible for him to get drunk, obliviously like a dumbass that you are you accepted.

For some reason you're shooting yourself a shot one moment, then you go dancing for some weird reason with *hazy mist*, but you think it's Wanda, and then you don't know how but you're watching a dance competition and your mom and Steve are dancing great, and for some reason you're rooting for them.

On top of that you believe, in the drunken haze you've blown a hole in someone's foot with Kate's arrows, and you definitely need to check that tomorrow, if you ever get over that giant hangover.

After the memory of dragging each other, perhaps in threes, with Wanda, between giggles and drunken conversations, down a hallway, you hope that of the bedrooms, you have a gigantic scary darkness, the most scary thing after a party... the day after.

ᗢ⧗── ･ ｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

The blinding light from the window, that thing so painful it hurts your ears. The head that feels like it's about to explode, and you probably don't think you can get out of bed, maybe you wouldn't even be able to raise a hand let alone all of yourself.

Too much light, too loud, too drunk

At sloth speed, you turn face down in bed, and with what little energy you have you close the curtain with a few red threads.

You don't feel like moving, or doing anything else, especially talking or seeing, you could fall into depression if you do.

Screams suffocated in the pillow, even if there is very little to suffocate, you complain.

"I will never drink again"

A bad hangover awaits you to deal with today

[hecatesbroom]

I thought you might like the fic asks! :) questions 6, 16 and 19 for you!

Haha I absolutely do! Thanks for the questions! <3

6. the word that appears the most in your current draft

My current draft is actually not a fanfic, but an original project I started the other day! (For anyone who's curious: my most used word there is "envelope"). But for some fic drafts I'm most near to finishing: it's "little", "flowers", "just", and "all" (for 4 golden girls wips respectively).

16. favourite place to write

I'm not too picky with the place I write in, but I prefer writing anywhere at home! Admittedly I don't really go anywhere else at the moment lmao but it's a lot easier to focus on what I'm writing when I'm home!

At the moment I usually sit on the couch, but I like to switch things up by moving to a table or my desk from time to time. It's mostly the couch though, because I tend to be very tired & it feels less exhausting to sit there for some reason! (Plus, it's easier on my back :)

Added bonus about the couch is that my cats tend to opt to sit on my lap instead of my laptop when I'm writing like they do at the table, haha.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

Oh dear -- I honestly don't know! Am I exposing myself too much here by saying I don't research much at all at the moment? I just wing it and usually hope for the best haha (so I mostly avoid writing about topics I'll have to research! I'm keeping a list of things to look into once I do have the time and brainpower again).

I think the one thing I looked up that hit hardest was the symbolism for ivy, for the appropriately titled Ivy. I'd written the whole thing before I figured: hey! maybe ivy works well as a symbol. And lo and behold: its meaning turned out to be even more heartbreaking than I'd hoped!

But mostly it's just a bit of fact checking :) or looking for appropriate songs, like the one for oh, my dear / our love is here to stay, for which I really wanted them to dance to a Sinatra song (because all girls mentioned they love him, so it only seemed appropriate)!

[bristishbaddiesxox]

Pretty Psycho H.S.

Mini Series!

Part : Missing Bethany

｡✧₊˚

Summary: Marlie's friend Bethany goes missing one night. She meets Harry who reveals things about Bethany that make Marlie question who Bethany really was. Together, they try to pin point where was Bethany on the night she went missing and who is responsible.

Warning: This story is entirely fictional and reccomended to mature audiences. The story contains themes of Murder, Sexual assault, adult language, some graphic scenes about murder. Please read at your own discretion .

Author's note : Harry is a character that will be introduce later ( next chapter). This will be a mini series I'll be posting while I prep my long-term series. Please give it a like and repost if you can! I'd really appreciate it <3.

Parts will be posted in order as chapters are released. ty!! enjoy :)

-> 1.1k words

Missing Bethany

⋆｡°🕯️✩.˚₊

It was random Wednesday afternoon, a week before thanksgiving where families were to meet and spend the holidays together. Elaine and her friends were out at a house party that was being hosted by Ethan Holder, the school's most popular boy and star quarterback. The girls were drunk off of the jungle juice that was made by one of Ethan's friends. 

" I feel sick," Elaine says rubbing her stomach. 

" You want to go to the bathroom?" her friend Bethany shouts through the music. 

Elaine nods while beginning to make her way out the crowd. Bethany followed behind her as they made their way to the nearest restroom. 

Elaine then began to throw up all of what was inside her, feeling the burning down her throat. She hated this feelings whenever she drank too much. It sucked even more knowing that she didn't consume that much alcohol and she was just a light weight. Once she composed herself, Bethany helped her back up and wiped her mouth with a napkin. 

" Alright I think it's time to go, I'll call you an uber," She says groaning at how she couldn't lift Elaine up when she practically was weak and put all her weight on her. 

They make their way outside and Elaine is groaning from the dizziness and nausea from the alcohol. When the uber arrived, Bethany helped her into the back seat. Once Elaine was in the back seat, Bethany began back out of car. That's when she felt a cold hand grab her. 

" You're not coming?" She whines.

" No Elaine, I think I'm gonna stay back for a little," She says comforting Elaine by squeezing her hand. 

" Okayy, I'll call you when I get home okay?" Elaine slurs. 

Bethany smiles down, " Please do, I'll see you tomorrow," She smiles before shutting the door. 

She watched the car drive off before looking back the house. She sighed to herself before making her way back up the steps of the home. She turns back at the road that was practically still empty but not silent due the music that was playing in the home. And then she continues on entering back into the party. 

Marlie sat at home on her laptop. Of course, there's a party down the street at Ethan's house, the boy she hated the most. Ethan was a jock and the most cockiest man she's ever spoke to. Him and all his friends were cocky. Her bestfriend Bethany was friends with all of them. She and Elaine were at the party while Marlie sat writing on her blog like she usually did. She was never a fan of the parties. Plus, she hated the taste of cheap alcohol, the way the loud music made her ears ring, and how everyone forgets about social cues and are constantly spilling drinks onto you or shoving you around. She preferred to be the Designated Driver. And that's who she was for Bethany. 

Her phone rang showing that Bethany Texted her. She picked it up to read the message. 

Queen Beth : Yeah Elaine is fucked. I sent her in uber just to save you a trip. 

Queen Beth: I should be ready around 2 if that's alright with you? 

Marlie rolled her eyes. She agreed to take Beth home but picking her up at 2 am? She dreaded the time but she much rather be there for her friend than not. 

She replied back : Yeah it's chill. Call me when you're ready. 

She saw that Beth read the message and then continued on to read through blogs and posts while sipping hot chocolates. She came upon an article about a mysterious death that happened a couple days ago. A girl from a high school that was near by was found stabbed the death in a corn field. She was only 16. She glances at the time again starting to grow worried at how late Elaine and Bethany had planned to stay out. She knew Bethany was responsible. She just hoped out of all things, nothing bad happens tonight. For now, she'll wait for Bethany's call. 

Elaine climbs out the uber and thanks him when she arrives back at her home. She stumbles into her house and struggled to lock the door. When she made her way upstairs she peeled her clothes off and turned on the shower. Once she was done cleaning herself, she realized she forgot to call Bethany. She walks over to her phone and see it was nearly 2 am. She called Bethany to let her know she had got home. The phone rung before it went to voicemail. Elaine furrowed her brows and clicked Bethany's phone again to dial her number. It goes to voicemail a second time. She opens her text message where she finds Marlie's text in the group chat that had her and Bethany in it. 

Marlie: Elaine, did Bethany leave after you? I can't seem to reach her and when I showed up to pick her up she never answered her phone or came out. 

Elaine starts to frantically text marlie back. 

Elaine: No, she just put me in an uber and I had no idea why she didn't just come with. 

Marlie: Where do you think she went this late at night. 

Elaine too a couple minutes to think about where Bethany might have gone after a party. She was seeing this guy who was at the party. She didn't know his name but she also knew she was hooking up with Josh who was also at the party. Maybe she left the party with him? 

Elaine: What if she went with josh since y'know they've been talking. 

Marlie: Fuck, She should have at least told me then I drove here for nothing. 

Elaine: Honestly that might be it, maybe she got drunk and left with him and forgot to tell you? 

Marlie : I'm going to kick her ass tomorrow during lunch 

Elaine: I'm slumped, I'm going to bed. 

Marlie : Gn 

Elaine : Gn 

Elaine began to bite her fingers. Where did Bethany go? Would she be the type to go to Josh's house? Elaine tried not to think too much about it. Bethany was the most responsible one in the group. She would know how to handle situations more than anyone. Besides Marlie, Bethany was the most logical one in the group. She always made sure everyone was safe at parties. She always took care of everyone. Bethany was talking to Josh but she kept it on the low. Elaine closes her eyes and lets herself fall into a deep slumber. 

Marlie was still worried about Bethany. Bethany had not returned one call. She had not answered any of her texts. It was now 4 am and Marlie laid on her bed staring at her screen. Something doesn't feel right. It was not normal for Bethany to reply. But she also could really be with Josh and Marlie was just being overly anxious. Still, she just wanted to know where her best friend was and it was killing her. 

✿ Next Part : One Tragic School Day

[blackestnight]

what's in my bag: hopeless nerd edition

by popular demand (read: like three people), have the contents of my bag when i'm playing ttrpgs in person!

in no particular order:

laptop. i use digital character sheets for most of the games i play, mainly so i don't have to do math every time i level up. pf2 (my preferred ttrpg system) also has specific restrictions for organized play, and the digital tool i use has a settings toggle for society-compliant characters, which is super handy. i can also keep tabs open for quick rules/item lookups.

case, etc. i keep my laptop in a soft sleeve that comes with a pocket for the charger, a wireless mouse, and a tablet pen. the laptop is a 2-in-1, so depending on available table space i might fold it up and keep it in my lap in tablet mode, using the pen to navigate my character sheet instead of the mouse.

power bank. a relatively new addition. outlet space is always at a premium at events, and while my laptop's battery is pretty good, my phone is old and the battery is starting to give out, so better safe than sorry. i got this power pack for like $40 at meijer and it's great.

binder. for holding chronicle sheets (basically after-session rewards handouts for organized play). i have different folders for each character. i also try to keep hard copies of character sheets in case of technological or internet failure, but uh. i usually. forget. oops.

gum. usually with me wherever i go anyway. it's good for mitigating the takeout breath after ordering dinner. also helps mitigate distracted snacking.

water bottle. hydrate or die-drate, bitch.

pens and pencils. even as a person who uses digital sheets, you need pencils. i don't care who you are. if nothing else, you may end up needing to play a pre-generated character and keep track of HP, and you don't want to be the asshole marking up someone else's sheets in pen. i prefer pens for my own note-taking and filling out chronicle sheets, but i always keep a few pencils (a nice one for me and shitty ones to loan to other people).

miniatures. not strictly necessary. not all games use physical minis and maps for tactical combat, and small things like coins, bottle caps, extra dice, or (especially for enemies) candies are all mainstays of the tradition. i don't always bring mine to regular home campaign sessions, but for society play and cons i keep them in a little plastic tacklebox. i have some fancy ~custom~ minis for long-running characters, and more generic plastic ones, plus some poker chips and bases for things like pets, mounts, and summons.

dice. clickety clackety, i roll to attackity. my dice collection is extensive and nearly all blue (gasp). "but cyan," you ask, "do you actually need to bring that many dice?" yes. the most superstitious people you will ever meet are theatre nerds and tabletop gamers. you need several sets on hand to combat the Dice Curse. (or loan to other players. or roll fireballs. et cetera.) my dice bag was handmade for me by my best friend in high school, based on my first ever d&d character, and i still use it all the time. for events where i'll be able to spread out more, or for home games, i also have a dice vault with a built-in tray.

tray. to keep my dice from running away, or getting damaged on the table (or damaging the table if we're talking metal dice). lays flat when unsnapped for easy transport. also, it's a kitty!

notebooks. i usually have a couple on me for different purposes. the skull notebook is for session notes—which i don't usually take, WHICH IS BAD, and i'm trying to get into the habit. i'll write shorthand bullet notes during the session and then tidy up/convert into better summaries in a digital notebook later. the sticker-fied (yes, i put stickers on basically all of my possessions) is for brainstorming and note-taking for my homebrew campaign, because nothing is quite as inspiring as a weekend of getting tormented by other GMs.

book. for downtime/between sessions. the nice thing about tabletop cons is that there's always a chair somewhere.

and that's basically it! i might swap a couple things out if i'm running as a GM, but as a player this is my go-to.

and if you're looking at this and going, "where are the rulebooks?" the answer is i usually don't bring them with me in a physical format when i'm traveling. for PF2, i have access to all the PDFs, but Archives of Nethys and PF2 Easy are both fantastic (and FREE) digital rules references. i prefer Easy for searching items and spells, but AoN is an unparalleled rules resource, and they work directly with paizo to update the rules with each errata release. it has every rule, item, spell, creature, and character option from every book, with no paywalls or ads. the only thing you can't get are official maps or encounter blocks from the adventure paths. check it out if you're interested in playing!

[bakedbakermom]

Hi! For the writers ask game: 👻✍🏾 😎

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

when mulder used his last wish to free the djinn in "je souhaite" she was so grateful that on her way out, she used her last bit of magic to grant his actual deepest wish, the one he would never dare voice aloud. that's how william really came to be.

✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?

HOME ALONE (anyone talking to me will rip me out of my groove). coffee or water next to me. laptop, couch, blanket. notebook, notecards, purple pen for first drafts. that plus a red pen and a hard copy of my first draft for second drafts. generally silent, though sometimes i will have very familiar music and/or tv on in the background, on the lowest volume possible, to give my brain squirrels something to distract them so they don't distract me. preferably a cat next to me for vibes. also it would be cool if i could hook a second monitor up to my laptop so i could always have my work open on one screen and any research or old drafts up on the other.

😎 What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

canon is a sandbox and baby i'm building castles. i am not really into AUs that diverge wildly from canon - mulder and scully need to still be mulder and scully, not like historical versions or something like that. that said, xf canon gets really muddy and nonsensical to the point where diverging from it in fic winds up being better than the real thing sometimes. i can handle an AU that starts canon-compliant and then diverges.

from this - keep 'em coming, this is fun!

[mysticstarlightduck]

Happy STS! What are your go-to/preferred writing tools? Favorite pen types, notebooks, keyboards, etc, but it doesn't have to be limited to just those things. Writing programs, favorite reference books, thesauruses, dictionaries, TTS software, whiteboards, corkboards, flash cards, encyclopedias, anything goes!

Happy Storyteller Saturday! Thank you for the Ask, @writernopal!

What are your go-to/preferred writing tools?

I pretty much only write on my computer/laptop. Due to my eyesight issues, it is difficult to write on my phone/tablet (too small lol) or small notebooks, plus writing on the computer helps me stay focused (and listen to my playlists while I do it)! I also have a travel journal/paper notebook which I use to write on when I'm not with my laptop, not at home or the internet isn't working, but its mostly reserved for these situations.

+ Writing Programs = I'm still using Google Docs, namely because it saves the work automatically, but I am working on moving all my WIPs and notes to Scrivener.

[smiletimeisrunningout]

🫥 Have you ever felt invisible? What was a way that the RP community made you feel better?

🪅What are holidays like for you? / from: sharmawit -> Kathani Sharma

(though any muse of mine you feel emphasis on comfortable talking to is good by me, just to let you know *finger guns*)

@sharmawit

Have you ever felt invisible? What was a way that the RP community made you feel better?

I don't really feel INVISIBLE per se because when it comes to chatting I actually rarely feel like talking to people every day, maybe one or two because we jump from topic to topic, we 'find each other' in the way we mix roleplaying things and little things about ourselves, but I can't nor want to do more than that, I'm too chronically sick to afford more talking. And when it comes to roleplaying, here's the thing: there are always a LOT of people who will not engage with me, either they don't plot ooc and threads fizzle or we simply don't hit off with threads, which happens a lot, but it's something that happens to everyone because we are wildly different poeple with an interest in common but lots of different preferences when it comes to who and what we want to write, so I don't really feel invisible because knowing this, I just keep looking for people who will write with me. Sure, maybe 80% of my followers won't, but the 20% left will and that's enough to keep me occupied, plus I always look for new followers. So I guess the good thing about RP is that it DOESN'T make me feel invisible because I will assume that if I keep looking I'll find people who will write and be interested, and because I have other hobbies too when they are busy. Plus I think it's best to learn not ot be upset if things don't work out with someone because you have different ways to write or to enjoy a hobby. I'm CASUAL about it, I don't want to put an effort unless it comes spontaneous like when I go in hyperfocus lol

This answer got so long lol It's just that I know some people feel left out and I know it sucks, but I'm lucky in that sense because I keep sneaking into new fandoms and finding new people AND I don't want to be part of groups, I don't have the time nor energy for chatting!

What are holidays like for you?

Well, we are extremely poor, so in a way they are difficult because we can't contribute with food or anything nor buy presents, but I love the concept of them, because for me it's about the entire family reuniting in someone's house and spending entire days together with little breaks, playing, eating and talking, at least when it's Christmas/New Year/Easter, though I get tired very quickly and hide home to go back to my laptop, usually! Sometimes they get a bit sadder because being super sick and unable to go out while others celebrate sucks, but I make up for it with Christmas lights and other things that cheer me up!

[shuckleberrysims]

Sims Tagged Meme

No one tagged me, but I thought it'd be fun to do anyway! :>

 1. What’s your favorite sims death? In the Sims 3, my favorite death has to be the meteor shower death (poor @faeriefrolic's Madeline cannot catch a break with that one xP) and in the Sims Medieval, my favorite one has to be the Pit Monster one! 

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Maxis Match all the way, there's just something about MM that makes it so appealing. It's so bright and colourful and I love it so much :> (Maybe alpha is just sorta...creepy to me idk?)

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? Nope, I don't! I love body diversity in my game, however I used to when I used to play the Sims 4! But now, I don't mind any and all body shapes :D 

4. Do you use move objects? I do, but only for decor items so it looks like the space is lived in. Though, one time I did use move objects on a computer and my sim used it as a table to eat her sandwich on.

5. Favorite mod? Definitely NRAAS and the Randomizer mod. NRAAS is a must to keep the game running and I like the well, randomness of the Randomizer mod! 

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? I first got into the Sims when I was given the Sims 2 by my grandmother. I think my first pack I got was Pets, but I honestly don't remember... it was a while ago lol

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? I pronounce it as aLIVE.

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? For me, my favorite sims that I've made are actually based upon two OCs that I have - Connor and Leon. They're my babies and I'll love them forever! Plus, I like how Leon's voice sounds as a simbot! If we're talking regular sims though, I have two. One is from my 'N Cheese legacy back in the Sims 4, her name was Blueberry 'N Cheese (I have her as my origin profile!). The other one is Linden, who I sadly had to retire for now as I've been away for several months. Maybe one day I'll return to his save but for right now I don't want to do any challenges. 

9. Have you made a simself? I did once and they promptly died to a vending machine. But like, mood.

10. What sim traits did you give yourself? Dog person, Night Owl, Computer Whiz, Childish, and Family-Orientated.

11. What is your favorite EA hair color? Probably the blonde preset, but other than that one, I just don't like any of them sadly - I prefer the custom ones that I make. 

12. Favorite EA hair? Idk why but I really love that Victorian era one that has a big hat. I actually used to have it as CC when I played the Sims 4 so you can imagine my surprise when I realized it was actually from the Sims 3.

13. Favorite life stage? Young adults and elders!

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? Honestly, I love both! I mainly build tiny homes, though but I'm still getting used to Sims 3's build mode. 

15. Are you a CC creator? Technically I am if you count those scuffed clay hairs I made for the Sims 4 years ago, but maybe someday I'll touch Sims 3's modding tools! 

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? I have @faeriefrolic who I met irl before, and she is the sweetest person to know! :D But other than that, I keep to myself but don't be afraid to say hi to me! I know I've been on a hiatus but hopefully sometime in July I can start again, as I've been visiting some family in  America owo

17. What’s your favorite game? TS3! Ever since I've re-visited it, it's one of my favorite Sims games! It's a tie between 3 and Medieval, honestly.

18. Do you have any Sims merch? Uhhh, I had like one Sims-related sticker on my old laptop but I don't know if I'd be able to peel it off without wrecking it.

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? I used to, but I got really self-conscious of my voice so I don't anymore. 

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? I was very minimal at first, as people usually are when you first play a game. Then I got into NSB challenges, and I loved the wild hair colors that you could put your sim in! (I got up to the yellow gen in the Sims 4). Now, I'm a mix between banilla and berry sims.

21. What’s your Origin ID? ShuckleBerry662, if you play the Sims 4 - my scuffed builds are on the gallery. :P 

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? Oh shit, uhhh I love a whole bunch of 'em! I love @chazybazzy, @poisonfireleafs for hairs. I love @sweetdevil-sims and I recently discovered @teekapoka's stuff too! (idk why it didn't link but oh well.) Also the lovely @lazyduchess for their smooth patch!

23. How long have you had a simblr? I honestly don't remember, maybe 2016-ish? It was mainly Sims 4 and I abandoned that one sooo uh...yeah. 

24. How do you edit your pictures? I don't edit my pictures at all bc I don't have the patience for Photoshop and my game can't handle reshade sometimes.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? I love Ambitions and University Life! The Ghostbuster career is one of my favorites and I get excited whenever I hear the ghost sound cue. 

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? The 64-bit expansion would be an awesome addition to the Sims 3! 😊

[shslpunkartist99]

So I tried to double-check on your curiouscat to see if you made any mentions of a bet there but I think I'll need to do this on my laptop when I get home because freaking heck CC keeps lagging on phone whenever I scroll a bit too far down before it just eventually gives up and crashes. All I can really say for certain here is that I'm certain you made a mention of this back on CC. Even then I'd take my words with a grain of salt cuz my memories aren't exactly the best ksaasjkasjk

But even if you hadn't made any about how it went down between Symbol Keith and Oreo exactly, I'd say go with that! I honestly really like the thought of that being the way how Keith keeps his kids. Plus, with what you said about Symbol Oreo so far, it'd make sense he'd test Keith like that!

That being said, I have to admit that it'd feel somewhat weird if Symbol Keith didn't go through the stages of the pregnancy. I can understand making it so that the labor part would be quick and painless for him (at least that's what I presume you meant you mentioned his pregnancy would be quick and painless in that other reply there) but that?

I mean, nothing wrong with that at all! I'm just trying to figure out, like, HOW that would even go. Just trying to think about it gives me this cursed image of Keith going through a rapid growth pregnancy thing or whatever that weird shit is called jkasasjk if you dunno what I'm talking about, think of those weird rule 34 fanarts/animations of characters from various fandoms where the characters in question go through a very quick pregnancy. Might not seem like much but often those artworks/animations tend to exaggerate stuff and make it look rather weird and asjkaska yeah nvm you get what I mean here ajkssajk

You know what? Can we make it so that Symbol Keith did go through the normal stages of pregnancy and that it was a relatively easy one aside from the occasional preggo side-effects that most preggo folks go through (i.e. weird food cravings, occasional morning sickness, random bounds of sudden horniness, etc etc etc) while not having to go through the painful part of labor? He'll still go through labor, I mean, it's just that the actual delivery part will be relatively quick and painless for him. I'd also like to say that wouldn't feel the more painful than usual cramps that usually happen whenever the body is preparing to go into labor soon, but I feel that could potentially backfire and result in him not realizing he's about to go into labor soon until it's a bit too late for him to be safely moved elsewhere. I dunno about you but I think Keith would prefer to not accidentally give birth anywhere that isn't 1) private and 2) a place where he feels safe and comfortable in.

It was definitely talked about before, for sure. I just don't remember how detailed I went into it. Definitely the bet, cuz Oreo wouldn't want a Trump Card (which is one of the most dangerous positions to be in, despite having more power than the average citizen) to have children if they weren't ready

Magic be strong too. Maybe Keith DID go thru a regular pregnancy, but he wasn't able to do his job or be part of a lot of games, as it was important for him to stay healthy. Maybe Oreo gave him 1 or 2 bodyguards that'd protect him at all times (though it might be annoying for him cuz they just stand there otherwise)

[boatswainscall]

So I have the Autism/ADHD wombo combo. And this post has honestly been a revolutionary thing in regards to me actualizing the improvement of my own mental health.

Because at the start of the month (June 2023) I flew out to visit my Aunt for two weeks while she housesat for some friends on Vancouver Island. For some context about me though, for the past ten years I've been suffering from a severely fucked sleep schedule and frequent periods of frustration and "brain stalling" as I call it (take a wild guess what that might be) so in preparation for that I packed as many of the things that I normally use to regulate these annoyances that I could feasibly fit into my carryon (which narrowed down to my Switch console and laptop)

Only to... Barely use either of them while on my trip. And from reading this post, I now know it's because of how horribly understimulated I was before I took this trip. My bedroom doesn't have a window back home, but the room I slept in while out West did. So I had a constant stream of wind and bird/bug sounds to both fall asleep and wake up to. So as a result, I quickly settled into an incredibly regular sleep schedule, and was barely affected by jet lag.

Even on days when we weren't exploring the surrounding towns and beaches I would sit in the living room next to the balcony, where the door and screen were always left open for the homeowners' cat to walk in and out whenever she pleased (it was a third story covered+separated balcony, for those concerned. She is very much an indoor cat that just gets to hang outside in a highly controlled way. Fear not for the local critters' or her life in this case!). So I'd have wind, bird and bug sounds at all times whenever I was decompressing after our days' adventures. I even welcomed the traffic noises, because the way my apartment is set up back home I don't even hear that daily.

Not to mention all of the sensory bliss I experienced while exploring those beaches or whenever my Aunt would "take the scenic route" back home from our days' outings. Plus, I regularly would leave the house and take walks down to the local coffeehouse or just straight down to the waterfront since we were so close, and just stand there and Stare Out To Sea the way I've always yearned for. No phone out, no music in my ears. Just me, the sounds of the wind and sea, and the many, many crows and bald eagles chilling down by the rocks. And also deer, on many occasions, if I went out late enough in the day. Which was absolutely thrilling for me as a person who grew up in a heavily industrialized area that has never been able to see many deer in person outside of a single trashy petting zoo when I was really young.

It's fully opened my eyes to just how much my current environment (and lifestyle/hobby preferences) is utterly destroying my brain through severe understimulation. And while since coming back I've regressed a lot in regards to the mental health highs I reached on that trip, I'm already planning on "forcing myself out on walks" as the last person that replied mentioned.

And while I may not live in an area exactly overflowing with overwhelming natural beauty as Vancouver Island, I do live within two bus line connections of one of the Great Lakes so frankly this is all mostly a Me problem and I really should be appreciating it more. So I'm going to, starting this week.

So thanks OP, you really were onto something.

My random unsubstantiated hypothesis of the day: the popularity of "stim" videos, fidget toys, and other things like that is a warning sign that something's Deeply Wrong with our world.

Don't freak out. I am autistic. These things are not bad. However, can we just...take a second to notice how weird it is that there are entire social media accounts full of 10-second videos of things making crunching noises, people squishing slime in their hands, and objects clacking together, and that enjoying them is mainstream and normal?

It seems that nowadays, almost everyone exhibits sensory-seeking behavior, when just a decade ago, the idea of anyone having "sensory needs" was mostly obscure. It is a mainstream Thing to "crave" certain textures or repetitive sounds.

What's even weirder, is that it's not just that "stim" content is mainstream; the way everything on the internet is filmed seems to look more like "stim" content. TikToks frequently have a sensory-detail-oriented style that is highly unusual in older online content, honing in on the tactile, visual and auditory characteristics of whatever it's showing, whether that's an eye shadow palette or a cabin in a forest.

When an "influencer" markets their makeup brand, they film videos that almost...highlight that it's a physical substance that can be smudged and smeared around. Online models don't just wear clothes they're advertising, they run their hands over them and make the fabric swish and ripple.

I think this can be seen as a symptom of something wrong with the physical world we live in. I think that almost everyone is chronically understimulated.

Spending time alone in the forest has convinced me of this. The sensory world of a forest is not only much richer than any indoor environment, it is abundant with the sorts of sensations that people seem to "crave" chronically, and the more I've noticed and specifically focused on this, the more I've noticed that the "modern" human's surroundings are incredibly flat in what they offer to the senses.

First of all, forests are constantly permeated with a very soft wash of background noise that is now often absent in the indoor world. The sound of wind through trees has a physiological effect you can FEEL. It's always been a Thing that people are relaxed by white noise, which leads to us being put at ease by the ambient hum of air conditioning units, refrigerators and fans. But now, technology has become much more silent, and it's not at all out of place to hypothesize that environments without "ambient" white noise are detrimental to us.

Furthermore, a forest's ambience is full of rhythmic and melodic elements, whereas "indoor" sounds are often harsh, flat and irregular.

Secondly: the crunch. This is actually one of the most notably missing aspects of the indoor sensory world. Humans, when given access to crunchable things, will crunch them. And in a forest, crunchy things are everywhere. Bark, twigs and dry leaves have crisp and brittle qualities that only a few man-made objects have, and they are different with every type of plant and tree.

Most humans aren't in a lot of contact with things that are "destroyable" either, things you can toy with and tear to little bits in your hands. I think virtually everyone has restlessly torn up a scrap of paper or split a blade of grass with their thumbnail; it's a cliche. And since fidget toys in classrooms are becoming a subject of debate, I think it pays to remember that the vast majority of your ancestors learned everything they knew with a thousand "fidget toys" within arm's reach.

And there is of course mud, and clay, and dirt, and wet sand. I'm 100% serious, squishing mud and clay is vital to the human brain. Why do you think Play-Doh is such a staple elementary school toy. Why do you think mud is the universal cliche thing kids play in for fun. It's such a common "stim" category for a reason.

I could go on and on. It's insane how unstimulating most environments humans spend time in are. And this definitely contributes to ecological illiteracy, because people aren't prepared to comprehend how detailed the natural world is. There are dozens of species of fireflies in the United States, and thousands of species of moths. If you don't put herbicides on your lawn, there are likely at least 20 species of plant in a single square meter of it. I've counted at least 15 species of grass alone in my yard.

Would it be overreach to suggest that some vital perceptive abilities are just not fully developing in today's human? Like. I had to TEACH myself to be able, literally able, to perceive details of living things that were below a certain size, even though my eyes could detect those details, because I just wasn't accustomed to paying attention to things that small. I think something...happens when almost all the objects you interact with daily are human-made.

The people that think ADHD is caused by kids' brains being exposed to "too much stuff" by Electronic Devices...do not go outside, because spending a few minutes in a natural environment has more stimuli in it than a few hours of That Damn Phone.

A patch of tree bark the size of my phone's screen has more going on than my phone can display. When you start photographing lots of living organisms, you run into the strange and brain-shifting reality that your electronic device literally cannot create and store images big enough to show everything you, in real life, may notice about that organism.

[dorefasolsido]

16.

1 - Are you interested in any reality TV shows?

No, but I like to watch videos movie commentary channels make on them.

2 - When was the last time you made plans with someone? What are you going to do with that person?

I made plans with two (potentially three?) friends to meet for the weekend. I guess we'll just have a coffee and chill, nothing that crazy.

3 - How often (if ever) do you use moisturizer?

Once in a while. I used to be more regular, but now I use SPF more often.

4 - Name five things you can touch from where you’re sitting right now:

Laptop, balcony fence, bug screen, table, chair

5 - Have you had any of your wisdom teeth removed? What was the reason? (eg. infection, impaction, lack of space).

Yup, the only wisdom tooth I actually had. It was either impaction or lack of space, can't remember exactly.

6 - What was the reason for your last hospital visit?

That was so long ago that I can't remember. Maybe some check up?

7 - Where was the last place you had an itch?

My nose just as I read this question lol. And now I'm getting itchy all over gaaah

8 - If you’re on a long car journey, would you rather drive or be the passenger?

Drive, I think.

9 - What’s the earliest time you’ve had to wake up for work? What about the latest time you’ve clocked off for the day?

I never had to wake up super early for work, but when I was just starting, I'd get up at around 9 AM. However, since I usually work at night, I sometimes clock off super late. A few times when I had deadlines close by, I worked pretty much until 7 AM.

10 - Do you use a laptop, desktop, tablet or phone to take your surveys?

Laptop, it's annoying on the phone.

11 - Are you fussy when it comes to how your surveys are formatted on your blog?

A little bit.

12 - How old were you when you first got internet access at home? Was it broadband or did you have dial-up first?

We had dial-up first, but I'm not sure how old I was. Maybe 5-6?

13 - When was the last time you painted your nails?

I think the beginning of the year. I don't bother normally, but sometimes I'll let my sister do it if she's in the mood and I'm in the mood for something different.

14 - What’s your typical order when you go to Starbucks (or wherever your favourite coffee shop is)?

I usually get hot chocolate.

15 - What’s your favourite thing to have on toast?

I don't really eat toast that way.

16 - Do you have any debt? If so, are you on top of paying it all back?

Hmm, not really.

17 - What was the last thing you purchased with a credit card?

I don't have a credit card.

18 - Have you been to college/university? If so, has your degree been useful to you or was it a bit of a waste of money?

Yup, and yes. I mean, I likely could've gotten this job without my English degree too, but I really think it's a bit of a boost. Plus, my university was free and I loved every second of it, so it definitely wasn't a waste either way.

19 - How often do you travel by public transport?

Whenever I have to go anywhere. So not every day, but a few times a a week for sure.

20 - Do you have an instagram account? If so, how often do you post on there and what kind of things do you post?

I have two, actually. One is like a fan account (though I only follow stuff there, I don't post), and the other is my personal account. On that second one I post from my trips sometimes, but I'm not very consistent at all.

21 - Are you close to your extended family? Do you wish you were closer?

With some of it, not all. I don't really wish we were closer, though. I'm close to those I want to be close with.

22 - Do you prefer to give your pets human names or not?

Hmmm, not quite, but then again, Lucifer is technically a human name?

23 - Do you like having ice in your drinks?

Sure, when it's hot.

24 - When was the last time you went to a BBQ restaurant?

I don't go to those, it works a little different here.

25 - When was the last time you re-arranged the furniture? Is this something you like to do often?

I don't remember, it's not something I normally do.

26 - Have you ever used a fire extinguisher? Would you know how to use one without reading the instructions?

I haven't, but I mean, it can't be that complicated since people are meant to use it on the spot.

27 - What’s the worst thing you’ve ever had to deal with at your job?

Lol casual calls. I'm super awkward with new people, so like, when we talk about professional stuff, no problem, but when you're supposed to be chill and funny, it's my worst nightmare. Takes me a bit to get there.

28 - What was the last thing you used your mobile phone for?

Just checking notifications. There are always SO many, I'm sick of it.

29 - Did you used to play The Sims? What version or expansion pack was your favourite one to play?

Yeees, I played all of the Simses. Sims 3 was (and still is) my shit, I'd get Generations, Seasons, Adventures, University Life and Nightlife and then fuck around for literal days.

30 - What was the last thing you used a lighter for?

I have no idea, it's been so long since I used one.

[survey--s]

594.

What's the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning? Open my eyes and check the time.

How do you usually start your day? I stay in bed and mess around on my phone until my alarm goes off, then get up and sorted for work.

What's your morning routine like? On workdays I get up at 7.30am, make the bed, sort out the animals, vacuum, have breakfast, wash up and then get ready to leave for work by about 8.30am. On weekends I tend to sleep a bit later but my general routine is the same, except I have breakfast in bed and a shower before I get ready for the day. On work days I shower when I get back home.

What's your favorite thing to do in the evening to wind down? Normally I just mess about online and watch TV or a movie.

How do you usually spend your weekends? It depends. Mostly I just hang out at home but sometimes I'll go out with friends or Mike and I will take the dog out somewhere and get lunch or something.

What's your go-to breakfast? Coffee, fruit juice and toast.

What's your favorite type of coffee or tea? Cappucino or flavoured lattes.

Do you prefer to cook your meals or eat out? I much prefer to eat out but it costs so much money nowadays that we only really do it once a month or so.

What's your favorite restaurant in your area? Probably one of the local pubs.

How often do you exercise, and what do you do? I walk dogs for a living so I normally do that for 4-5 hours a day.

What's your favorite way to stay active? Just that really, I'm not a very active person outside of work.

What's your favorite way to relax after a long day? I'll take a bath and then chill out on the sofa with snacks, my laptop and the TV lol.

What's your favorite way to socialize with friends and family? Going out for meals or walking the dogs together.

Do you prefer to stay at home or go out in your free time? For me, my ideal is about 75% stay at home and 25% go out.

What's your favorite way to spend a rainy day? Stay home with and just chill out, really. Normally I'll set myself up on the sofa with snacks and a blanket, plus my favourite movies or boxsets.

What's your favorite way to spend a sunny day? If it's not too humid then I'll go out to the beach or to explore somewhere with Mike and the dog.

Do you have any pets, and if so, what are they like? So, we have four pets. Archie is a beagle and he loves everyone. He's very noisy and definitely has an opinion on everything, lol. Then we have three cats - Purrlock is grumpy with strangers but once you get to know him he's a real softy and he loves a cuddle. Toby is very nervous of strangers and quite an aloof cat but he likes a fuss once he knows you. Simba is just your typical crazy kitten - he loves everyone and loves a cuddle.

What's your favorite thing to do with your pet? I love walking the dog and just chilling out with the cats. We do play sometimes but they're mostly quite lazy lol.

How do you usually stay organized throughout the day? I don't really do anything specific - I feel like I'm naturally quite an organised person so it just happens naturally.

What's your favorite way to keep track of your schedule? I just my phone calendar to plan my work days.

What's your favorite type of music to listen to during the day? It depends on my mood.

How do you usually handle stress? I rant to strangers online, sleep, watch TV or walk the dog.

What's your favorite way to pamper yourself? Take a bubble bath, nap, eat my favourite foods.

Do you have any hobbies or interests that you enjoy outside of work? Sure - horse riding when I get the chance, photography, serial killers/true crime stuff and the internet in general.

What's your favorite way to wind down before going to bed at night? I just randomly scroll shit on my phone - normally TikTok or Reddit.