#two sure prediction for monday special

[mycryptosuite]

Ghana Monday Special Lotto Forecaster ( 2SURE LIVE!!! )

Ghana Monday Special Lotto Forecaster ( 2SURE LIVE!!! ) Ghana Monday Special Lotto Forecaster – The goal of all lottery strategies is the prediction of winning numbers that will hit in the next draw and that is what we are going to do today. Be ready to WIN with us. Check out the list of the most, and the least, frequently drawn numbers for MSP Lotto – MSP Lotto drawings are each Monday at 7:15…

[waltwhitmansbeard]

a grow with the flow fic for your monday

Now that they have the space for it, Keyleth and Vax have a room dedicated to their podcast. There is a recording space with a comfy couch surrounded by more plants than a botanical garden, and out of view of the cameras, a pair of desks where they edit film and audio, work their socials, and do all of the other things that come with being professional podcasters. The walls are a cheery yellow, and today, the sunlight streaming in through the large window behind the camera is just as bright.

Vax sits beside Keyleth, completely unaware of what today's subscriber-only special is going to be. All she's told him is that it's going to be a game, a puzzle of sorts, and he's always down to make a fool of himself on camera.

Keyleth runs through their standard intro before asking him, "Are you ready?"

There's a mischievous twinkle in her eye that he so rarely sees there. "I have no idea."

"Perfect. Your challenge for the day is identification." She gestures to the large, covered wicker basket sitting on her lap. "We mostly deal with green plants here on the podcast and in our home, but you know that I also love flowers."

"I do know that." Vax rarely comes home from the grocery store without a small bouquet to refresh the vase in the living room.

"I'm going to test your knowledge of some common flowers. Starting with..." Ignoring his quiet, "Oh no...," she pulls out a single stem of a purple flower, its thin, curling petals stained with yellow toward the center. She hands it to him. "What is this?"

Oh, he is definitely going to look like a fool. He searches every memory he's ever had of flowers. "Is this...an iris?"

"Ding ding ding!" Vax sighs in relief. "Good job! Next one."

She pulls out a long-stemmed puff of gold, and Vax knows this one. He takes it from her with an easy, "This is a marigold."

"And you thought you'd be bad at this!"

Next up is a poppy, and followed by a rose. He's feeling confident until the flower after that, with sparse, narrow pink petals and a large center. After a good thirty seconds, he frowns. "I got nothing."

She clucks her tongue. "That is an echinacea flower. But four for five ain't bad!" She kisses his cheek, which is worth the fuck-up.

He surprises himself by recognizing the gardenia, but he's never even heard of a nemesia before, much less seen one. As the game goes on, Vax finds himself distracted by Keyleth's hands, which seem to vibrate with some kind of frenetic energy. There's something else going on here, something besides a game of identifying flowers, but he has no idea what it could be.

She tells him there are only three flowers left, and he gets aster right, but not narcissus, and when he finally correctly identifies the tulip, he has a rather large bouquet in his hands, a riot of colors and aromas. Keyleth congratulates him on a job well done—his performance was middling at best, but he did do better than he would have predicted—but she's still buzzing, and Vax knows there's more to come.

"So...there's a round two, so to speak."

"A round two?"

"Those flowers are...a code of sorts. A puzzle for you to figure out." She pulls her feet up onto the couch, settling in to watch him struggle.

A code? They're flowers. Vax knows that there's some kind of meaning system behind flowers, like lilies are for peace or something, but he's far from well-versed in it, and he's pretty sure Keyleth doesn't know much more than he does. Both of them like flowers that are pretty and smell nice; they're simple folk.

"I don't think you want me to know what these mean," he says, thinking out loud, "because I don't think you know what these mean."

"Fair enough."

"But you picked these flowers for a reason."

She nods. "I did."

"Okay." If he felt foolish before, he feels doubly so now. Keyleth and their entire audience are watching him struggle to put together pieces he can make neither heads nor tails of. "I'm going to assume you gave them to me in a specific order."

"Excellent assumption." She's sitting back comfortably in the corner of the couch, but her casual posture belies that same high-key energy he's dying to understand. Her smile isn't nearly as blasé as he knows she'd like him to think it is. This puzzle is something big.

"Okay, let's work this out." He takes the iris and lays it on top of the basket, which now sits between them. "Iris. Then...marigold." He lays it just beside the first flower. "Is it...the names?" His eyes flash to hers, and instead of an answer, the corners of her smile curl up further. He's got it. "Okay. Iris, marigold. I-M." The poppy was next, then the rose. With each letter, he lays the corresponding flower onto the basket. "I-M-P-R...oh fuck, what was next?" He fumbles through the remainder of the bouquet in his hands before finally announcing, "Echinacea, right! Then it was the gardenia...I-M-P-R-E-G—"

He cuts himself off, eyes going wide. His head snaps to face Keyleth's, who has completely lost any pretense of nonchalance. She's grinning bright, already half-laughing as the realization sinks into Vax's bones like sunlight in the winter. "No fucking way." She nods enthusiastically. "No fucking way!"

And then the flowers are everywhere, basket tosses aside as he throws himself on her, babbling incoherently as the tears come fast and hot. She catches him easily, wrapping her arms around his neck as he sobs into hers. "Breathe," she laughs, running a hand up and down his back. "You're going to pass out."

Shaking, he straightens up, wipes at his eyes. "I can't believe...how long have you known?"

"Three days. It took this long to put this together." She tucks his hair behind one ear. "I couldn't keep it from you any longer."

"Another baby." He feels like he's going crazy, like at any moment, one of the twins is going to shake him awake from this dream he's in. "We weren't even trying!"

She laughs again. "I know!"

"We're just really good at it!"

With a roll of her eyes, she warns him, "Vax'ildan, we are on camera."

Fuck, he'd forgotten. He turns to grin stupidly at the camera. "Hi everyone! We're having a baby!"

Keyleth tucks herself into his side. "Obviously, you all will be watching this many months down the line, when we're ready to announce, but..." She interlaces her fingers with his. "I wanted to have something we could share, if we wanted to."

Vax understands that the responsible thing to do is to wait to announce such incredible news, but he feels like he's physically going to burst if he doesn't climb onto their roof and shout it for all of the neighbors to hear. "This is...fuck, Kiki. This is unbelievable."

Normally she's shy about showing physical affection while on camera, but today, she takes his face and pulls it to her own, kissing him with a ferocity she so rarely displays in front of others. He smiles against her lips—what a dream, this woman, this family, this life. He hopes he never, ever wakes up.

[fractured-hq]

The most anticipated sporting event in the wizarding world is coming to Britain!

The Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have been hard at work to make this year’s Quidditch World Cup the best yet. A shining, new stadium has been constructed in the remote reaches of Connemara National Park in Ireland, and devoted fans have been camped out since mid-July in anticipation of the August 24th match. This cup has been dubbed “the Battle of the Under-Crups” by many commentators, referencing the surprising shake ups that have led to Brazil and Mali facing off, a pairing no one saw coming! The match will be commentated by James Potter of the Wizarding Wireless Network, and former Holyhead Harpies chaser, Rolanda Hooch. To celebrate the occasion, the Department of Magical Games and Sports is hosting a Team Pride contest, where the individual with the best costume will have their picture taken for the special commemorative edition of the Daily Prophet. Additionally, in an effort to discourage illegal gambling, the Wizarding Wireless Network is gathering predictions on the final score, and the winner will receive a voucher worth 93 galleons to Quality Quidditch Supplies! 

OOC Description

For this event, we will be celebrating the Quidditch World Cup! The event begins today, Saturday, August 19th, and will end on Monday, August 28th. Threads that have already been established (i.e. open starters that have been replied to and closed starters that have been posted) may continue past the end of the event, but we ask that you not post new replies to open starters after the 28th. More details about the event can be found under the cut.

As always, make sure to tag any relevant posts with ‘fracturedrpevent’, and most importantly, have fun and happy writing!

How to Participate

You can create an edit, pinterest board, or written description of your character’s team pride costume to enter the DMGS contest! A winner will be chosen from the characters who participate at random.

You can make a prediction on what the final score will be! The admins have already come up with the final score, and the player with the closest guess will win nothing but bragging rights.

You can post starters during the game, or in the days leading up to it. 

Things To Do

A variety of vendors have set up stalls around the stadium, selling souvenirs, memorabilia, and fan merchandise, as well as traditional Irish food and drink, and some Brazilian and Malian fare. 

Like in the fourth book, there is a campground near the stadium for people to stay and visit. For those unaccustomed to roughing it, and with the right social standing, Eamonn Burke has opened his nearby family home, Burke Lodge, to select guests.

The costume contest will take place on the day of the match, and predictions opened the week before, both in game. 

The match itself lasts 23hr, from 8:30 pm on Tuesday, August 24th, to 7:30 pm on Wednesday, August 25th. 

The Teams

Brazil; This is the first time in over 100 years that Brazil has made it past the quarter-finals. It was predicted that they would do middling-well in the tournament, but when a doping scandal overturned the final ruling of a game, the team grabbed their second chance with both hands and have been fighting tooth and nail to keep it. In their semi-final match, which lasted a grueling four days, three players suffered injuries. This is team Captain Beatriz Alves’ fourth time on the national team, but her first time in the finals; at 38, many expect this to be her last shot at the cup. 

Colors; green and yellow Players; Beatriz Alves—chaser and team captain, 38, female, suffered a torn rotator cuff in semi-final match. Aline Oliviera—chaser, 33, female. Tiago Martins—chaser, 24, male. João Almeida—beater, 28, male. Felipe Borges—beater, 30, male, suffered a fractured collarbone in semi-final match. Mariana dos Santos—keeper, 26, female. Bruna Carvalho—seeker, 29, female, suffered two dislocated fingers in semi-final game.

Mali; This is Mali’s first appearance in the tournament, and no one expected much from them. However the team has been steadily climbing their way to the top with a series of decisive victories. Many credit the team’s success to the talent of beaters Hawa Toure and Miriam Kieta. At only 19, Toure is the youngest player to ever make it to the finals. 

Colors; sky blue and white Players; Adama Malle—chaser, 28, male. Sekou Fane—chaser, 22, male. Sidi Bagayoko—chaser, 24, male. Hawa Toure—beater, 19, female. Miriam Kieta—beater, 27, female. Moussa Berthe—keeper and team captain, 29, male. Ibrahim Sidibe—seeker, 25, male.

[mineofilms]

Dorsey Out

In my mid-season blog on the Buffalo Bills' 2023 NFL season I expressed concerns about the team's recent performances, drawing comparisons to the struggles and resolution of the 2021 season. The issues with injuries, offensive instability, and the team's inability to adapt during games. We are now 5-5 with seven games remaining on the schedule. Where at least three of them we will at least be favored to lose in. ‘BillsMafia,’ has been feeling frustrated and emotionally drained pretty much since the Jacksonville game in London. The call for simplicity, variety and more tempo in the offensive approach, emphasizing the utilization of key players like Diggs, Davis, and Cook has not been heard or heard and not properly executed. Protecting quarterback Josh Allen and improving special teams are as crucial but again, no real improvements have been made on the field. Most still BILLieve the Bills still have a chance to turn the season around. With a very hard schedule ahead, focusing on the immediate goals getting our offense scary again, winning games and cautions against prematurely thinking about the playoffs. It’s unlikely we will be there unless we win all three of our division games and at least one or two more wins pending on what the other teams do. There’s hope that the Bills can make a playoff push despite the challenges they currently face.

There is hope but it isn’t a real expectation either.

Buffalo Bills Offensive Coordinator Ken Dorsey was fired November 6th, 2023, a morning after another crushing Bills lost on Monday Night Football to the Denver Broncos, a move that hits quarterback Josh Allen personally, given their working relationship since 2019. Dorsey, who initially served as the team's quarterbacks coach, became the offensive coordinator in January 2022 at Allen's request, with the departure of Brian Daboll to the New York Giants Head Coaching position. The Bills had a chance to win against the Broncos, but a penalty for having twelve men on the field, another situational football issue, negated a missed field goal, leading to Denver's last-minute victory. Head Coach Sean McDermott attributes the decision to part ways with Dorsey to the overall performance of the season. Quarterbacks coach Joe Brady has been named interim offensive coordinator. The Bills' offense has fallen below expectations this season, showing signs of predictability since Week 5. This is something many experts and non-experts alike have pointed out about the 2023 Buffalo Bills offense. With a 2-4 record during this stretch, the team's average points per game has dropped significantly. Turnovers per game have increased, and slow starts have been a recurring issue.

The Buffalo Bills can still spoil the division if we win our division games and get some help, but what's the point? We host any of those other teams coming up in a wild card game, the only way we can get in now as a wild card division winner, only to show we still cannot play situational football. I have a laundry list of examples of why the BUFFALO BILLS are the worst situational football team, probably in the history of the league. There are plenty from the last four seasons, now five seasons, to show that statement to be true, including this season. We learned nothing from the Houston wild card game going on four years ago now. Learned nothing from Arizona. Learned nothing at Kansas City. Learned nothing vs Minnesota, NYJ, MIA and all those other games where conventional logic would say we should win the game, leading, with moments left. Where McDermott says we are sound and has been sticking to that since the Houston wild card loss and the evidence that shows that Coach is 111% wrong with that assessment. I think if he just came clean with that the Bills might be able to move forward but I don’t know now. A lot of the comments from ‘BillMafia’ on all the platforms are not that far off. Can we regroup this year for a push? Sure, it’s possible, but a lot of things in this reality are merely possible. Are they practical? Are they probable? I seriously doubt that. We have not seen anything to give us that assessment. So I guess the Buffalo Bills will make more excuses, dodge questions that should have been answered three or four years ago and just see if we are playing for pride at this point or actual jobs are now on the line. The other response is we win the division, limp into the playoffs, mysteriously get healthy and go on a run that will be talked bout for decades to come.

McDermott did a fine job of answering questions at the Monday Night Football press conference this time but hiring/firing assistant coaches isn’t going to fix anything. There are bigger problems than it just being Dorsey or the Special Teams. Now is this a step in the right direction. We will have to tune in and find out. We are home against the New York JETS.  Terrible offensive line, but a playoff ready defense. It will be a very good test of this teams resolve. We can say that firing Dorsey is the first step of getting things right or we can also say this is the first leg in the chain of replacing personnel till only the last one accountable has to go. If the Bills completely tank out the rest of the year McDermott might be gone. I am not saying it’s right and a losing season will get him fired but having a good team and still stinking, that’s a culture problem, not a player personnel issue. We have the players. This team, last years team should have been a whole lot stiffer. Stuff did happen last year that shook a lot of football players and fans alike. Now, though, we just can’t say injuries are the problem, cause they are on the defensive side of the ball. We have fifth and sixth stringers playing on defense and they are keeping us in games. The defense is just too tired and beat up to have them be expected to close a game out at the end. We have too many weak spots for a one drive, all in or nothing, sort of thing. They have failed us a few times this year trying that under these circumstances and the Giants game was lucky, that should have been against us as well. It’s like the team’s brain shuts off at the end of these games and no one seems to know what they are supposed to do when they are supposed to do it. Another example, on Monday Night of twelve men being on the field. One guy jumping up and down instead of counting players on the field. Just stuff like that. This isn’t one instance either. We’ve been botching this stuff for nearly 4-5 seasons now. But hey... FK it... There is always next year but that window is now on the back end of time over looking forward. I still BILLieve the Bills can muster a comeback but if they do, how far can they go even hosting a wild card game? At this point it isn’t insane to feel the Bills might end the season 8-9 or worse. Even 9-8 doesn’t do anything. Another home playoff loss likely. First we gotta beat the “Goddamn JETS…”

They have had our number a little bit the last two or three seasons. We can beat them but they can also beat us and have. I like the idea of new juice calling the plays but against the JETS it’s a very stiff test. However, if we muster a win things can still happen. What if we win the game 35-3, where the defense didn’t give us points from turnovers or anything? Our offense just goes out there and puts on a “new pretty hot” show on turf, maybe not the greatest but still a good show. The media be changing their takes pretty quickly. Especially if we rip off some wins against teams right now that we probably shouldn’t beat after losing to New England and Denver. Right now, no one is now scared to play us. The JETS think we are just gonna lay the FK down and not fight. Cool… Keep thinking that. Seven games left. We win our division games and the Dolphins crash and burn again toward the end we are playing at least one home game in the Wild Card Game and then anything can happen. It has happened before and it will happen again.

I say, why not us. I say it every damn time I play a scratch off ticket. Why Not Me?

So… 2023 Buffalo Bills… Why not us… Why Not Us… WHY NOT US… Go Bills…

“Fight on my men,” says Sir Andrew Barton, “I am hurt, but I am not slain; I’ll lay me down and bleed a-while, And then I’ll rise and fight again.” ― Thomas Moore

Made famous in recent years by Hall of Fame NFL coach Marv Levy. He read this poem to the Buffalo Bills after losing their 1st Super Bowl. As history shows. The team rallied behind these words for years and three more consecutive Super Bowl appearances to come.

Dorsey Out by David-Angelo Mineo 11/15/2023 1,548 Words

[mamaemma2023]

How I Found Out

Everyone’s story is always going to be different when finding out they are pregnant. Here is mine -

I found out I was pregnant in the fall of 2022. It was the end of October, my Fitbit app had been pinging me for at least 3 Mondays in a row that my period was predicted to start. After snapping my best friend with some concern during the morning, she suggested to take a test on my lunch break. Throughout the entire morning, I attempted not to think about it because it would bring my anxiety way up. And at that point, it felt like it wasn’t even a possibility of me being pregnant.

Once my break came around, I drove myself to the local grocery store to pick up a pregnancy test and, since I was already there, a lunch. I only lived about 10 minutes away from the store, so I drove home to take the test. During that drive, I honestly couldn’t tell you exactly what was going through my mind. I was most likely mentally shoving down any feelings because I didn’t want to disappoint myself either way.

Walking into my house with that test in hand, my heart pounded as I went to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. I had gotten a box that had two test sticks in it because I wanted to be sure. The first test I took, I peed directly on the stick and waited. The second test I took, I peed into a jar and placed the stick in. Holding my breath while the time ticked by, I scrolled on my phone. After the designated time the box said to allot, I looked at my fate.

Positive. Both tests read positive.

A whole range of emotions flooded through me: excitement, joy, worry, dread. It was hard to wrap my mind around the outcome. After snapping a picture over to my best friend, she asked if I wanted to come over for a bit after our shifts ended. She knew my husband would be home late, and I appreciated her for reaching out so I wouldn’t be alone.

We ended up heading over to our local Walmart to grab another pregnancy test, just in case it was a malfunction from that other brand! I took my final pregnancy test at her apartment, and over jalapeño poppers and mochi we got the answer.

Positive.

At this point, excitement was the only emotion remaining. My husband and I were at a great point in our marriage, and it’s not like we were stopping it from happening. If anything, we were asking for it! I know most people tell their significant others a special cutesy way, which maybe I would have done had I not left the first test on my bathroom counter. My husband ended up coming home earlier than expected that night. He came home to a wonderful surprise!

[goddessofmischief]

Blue Monday, Part 1 - Loki x T.V.A.! Reader

Episode One... ‘Welcome to the T.V.A.’

Summary: Loki finds himself in an unexpected location, with a very unexpected partner.

You can read Chapter Two here and Chapter Three here! ...For the first time in his life, Loki Laufeyson was confused. Deeply confused.

All of it... it had all begun minutes ago, just minutes. But it felt like hours.

Minutes, since he had grabbed the tesseract (He’d thought himself so clever then - he was less sure now.)

And since then... he’d been launched into another dimension.

Launched into another dimension. Some thoughts feel stupid, even as if you think them. But there was no other phrase for it.

He’d been surrounded by a group of cloaked persons, then dragged to a location he could not quite place.

Now... now, he stood in an elevator.

And what an elevator it was. There was... a man, standing next to him, who he had not noticed before.

He was a hard person to sneak up on, he prided himself on that. But he couldn’t place blame with himself - this was something else. New magic.

So unlike his. So much... more colorless.

This was earthly magic, devoid of wonder or curiosity. It knew itself. It had bounds.

And he had absolutely no interest in it.

“You’re taking me somewhere to kill me?” he said to the man, who looked despairingly ordinary.

“No, I’m taking you someplace to talk.”  Loki stared straight ahead.

Everyone always wanted to talk to him - it was what he had to say that they liked less.

“Well, I don’t like to talk.”

“But you do like to lie. Which you just did - cause we both know you love to talk.”

Okay, well, that settles it - he knew not when, and he knew not how - but he would kill this man.

Until then, he would... bide his time.

Find out where the elevator was taking him.

Go deeper to the depths.

"How long have you been here?” The man shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s hard to say... y’know, time passes differently in the T.V.A.”

The T.V.A...

That was the name stamped on his prisoner’s uniform. But why? “What does that mean?” The man merely shrugged again.

“You’ll catch up.”

...

He would slowly, with time, begin to regret that he had come quietly.

When he’d called the place earthly before - well, he had been right. The building was extremely boring. But it became less so with every dropping floor. By the time they had arrived at floor 2T13, it bore almost no resemblance to the building he had first entered.

And this room...

Well, this room was something else.

It nearly resembled a church, in some ways. But there were two armed guards at the front - no, it was a courtroom.

A courtroom. Of all Midgardian things.

But this was not like any Misgardian courtroom he had ever seen. Behind the judge, who was the only person present, except for his escort and the guards, were three large faces, carved into the back of the wall. The judge herself was enough a matter of interest. She wore a cross expression and a red sash, and seemed displeased with him being there.

“Who’s this?”

“Loki Laufeyson,” answered his escort. “The Asgardian, remember?” “Of course. We’ve been expecting him. Crimes?” “Murder. Attempted murder. Attempted overtaking of New York City.” “Gracious,” said the judge. “Attempted!”

“What’re you sentencing him to, Judge?” The Judge appeared contemplative. “Life.” “What?” snapped Loki. He had almost no idea what he was being sentenced to, but he was quite sure he didn’t want to do it for life. “I agree. Judge, surely we can work it down,” his escort offered. “Very well. 2,000 years... or 200 missions. Whichever he arrives at first.” Loki swallowed.

“I’ll brief him,” promised the man, and then he was swept into another elevator and gone.

...

The interrogation room was hardly any less dismal. The ceilings were high, square shaped, and there was almost no light. What light there was made small, geometric patterns on the floor, nearly impossible to see.

“I think I can imagine what you’re thinking,” said his escort. “You’re trying to figure out how to escape. You don’t even know what we’ve brought you into, and you’re trying to escape it.”

Loki chuckled, tapping his fingernails on the small, wooden table.

“Oh, you have no idea. I’m going to burn this place to the ground.”

“You may as well hear us out,” said the man. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Mobius. Mobius M. Mobius.”

“Good name. Easy to remember.”

“And this is you,” he said, placing a hologram puck on the table. An image of himself from moments earlier, fighting in New York, appeared. “...Yes.” Mobius switched out the hologram puck, reigniting it. This time, an image of his older self appeared... longer-haired, and grinning, and shouting something about being Asgard’s savior.

“And this is also you.” “...No,” Loki uttered, shaking his head.

“Well, I’m afraid, yes, it is,” said Mobius. “Except... it’s you a little bit farther down the road from now. You saved Asgard, Loki.” “Why?” “Oh, one reason or another, but you got there. But do you know what the problem is, though?” “Do tell me.” “You die. Yeah, not long after. It’s a sad thing, really.” “No.” “Oh, yeah. It’s a shame. But... you know, I’d like to talk a little about the T.V.A. first. What we do here.”

“Go on.”

“We alter time, you see. Keep it in order. And we had to alter quite a bit of time to get you here, Loki. And do you know why?” “Enlighten me.” “Because we saved you. Like everyone else here, you were saved from a timeline that wasn’t... uh... entirely beneficial for you, let’s just say.” “You reference my untimely death. How do I die, anyhow?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that. It’d mess up the book... say, Y/N, would you mind bringing in the book?” At that moment, the strangest creature he had ever seen in his life entered the room.

You were incredibly beautiful, and he noted that. Were you on Asgard, he wouldn’t have hesitated to attempt at gaining your affections. But here, your arms were crossed, and you wore a pair of dark, denim-type pants, and a long-sleeved, grey shirt. In your arms, you clutched something - paperwork, it seemed.

"This is the book,” you said, quietly, holding it tightly.

“The book?” “He’s not ready for the book,” said Mobius. “No, I’m ready for the book. Give it to me.” “You can’t have the book,” you insist. “You can only learn from it. The book... sees that which has not yet been seen. By us, anyway.”

“So, it’s a magical, future-predicting book.” “Pretty much,” you said, at the same Mobius uttered “Think of it more as a map.”

“A map?” “It will tell you where to go. Where to be. And the tesseract... the tesseract can take you there. At the point we are at, here, in the universe, we are a gateway to every dimension. All things are happening around us, all the time. We are eternal - never changing, never aging.”

“Who placed you here?”

“She was brought here by me,” Mobius said, nodding to you. “And I was brought here by the Creator.” “The Creator?” “A supernatural being. Now that he is gone, I’m in his place. He is not capable of dying, but he is capable of fading away, as he did... scattering his atoms throughout the universe, creating something new. He will always exist, in some way, acting through us. He has been here since the beginning of time, like Ego, like the Grandmaster. We all called him the Creator - well, I just called him Stan.”

“And all that work here, are they... like me?” Loki was looking at you, specifically.

“No,” said Mobius, insistently, also looking in your direction. “We choose... humans with special talents, too.”

“What’s special about her?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you took the opportunity to leave the room.

Mobius shrugged.

“She is waiting.” “Waiting?” “Yes. She knows that she is written in the book, too, though she doesn’t know what, or... why. People cannot see the pages in the book that are written for them, it’s just me that knows. But I’m unable to change or help it... and unable to tell anyone. But she is here for a reason.”

“But she is useful?” “She is. Exceptionally clever. Terribly determined. I have mentored her, until now. Now, she mentors you.”

“Her? A human? I’d hardly find us compatible.” “Think of her less as your mentor and more of your... companion. She understands the system - the book, and its workings. You may have to do some of the heavy lifting, but I assure you, without her, you wouldn’t be able to travel more than a few feet. You - the both of you - will need each other. You’ll come to see that.”

“And what if I refuse?” Mobius shrugged. “You can spend eternity in our prisons, for all I care. That’s what we do with interferers around here, Loki. And you’re an interferer if we ever saw one. We’d just rather you worked for us, is all. And... if you sign this... 200 missions. Just two-hundred missions. Then we’ll put you back in your timeline, and you can go die, for all we care.”

Loki sighed, eyeing the contract on the table.

It would seem... he had no choice.

Tag List: gorgeourrific-nerd @suwupremeleader​

[lumberjanesweek]

Lumberjanes Week Update!

Hey, Lumberjumbies! The time has FINALLY come for us to announce the official 2021 Prompt List! Special thanks to the good folk of the Lumberjanes Discord Server for all their advice and suggestions.

Each day will have up to two themes, just like last year. You can choose which prompt you’d like to follow, or you can do both! Note that there is now an additional, optional "free choice day" afterward for any extra ideas you may want to get in.

Lumberjanes Week will take place from Monday, July 5th to Sunday, July 11th!

Day 1 (July 5th): Favorite Roanoke // First Day of Summer

Day 2 (July 6th): Magical Creatures // Greek Mythology

Day 3 (July 7th): TV Series Predictions // TV Series Designs

Day 4 (July 8th): AU Day

Day 5 (July 9th): OTP/BroTP // Rare Pairs

Day 6 (July 10th): Ghost Stories // Land of Lost Things

Day 7 (July 11th): Unresolved Lore/Mysteries // Last Day of Summer

Day 8 (July 12th): Free Choice

Not sure what to do? Here's a reminder that any and all fan creations are welcome - art, writing, analysis/theories, playlists, moodboards, cosplay, and anything else you can think of. Don't have time to make anything? Support the event by reblogging others' posts from this account, so that all creators get the attention they deserve.

Lumberjanes Week is just around the corner, so mark the dates! Remember to tag everything you create as #lumberjanes or #lumberjanes week so we can find it and reblog it here.

If you have any questions, please send in an ask. See you soon!

[multistanman]

Suncream

Fromis_9 Seoyeon x Male Reader

1930 words

-

Had a rush of ‘inspiration’ after seeing this photo. I can only apologise for my style potentially being jarring or any other issues. I think it was only an hour or so but it’s hard to know when in a ‘boner haze’

Mondays sucked, no two ways about it. Fortunately, you had managed to get the day off work thanks to the manager suddenly having to call in sick due to "unforeseen developments" the night before. So whilst everyone else was going to be stuck inside of a cramped office building on such a fine day, you decided that you were going to spend some time relaxing and taking in rays on the beach. As you had predicted, the beach was mostly empty because, well, who on earth goes to the beach on a Monday morning. There was only one other person present and they seemed quite happy to mind their own business listening to music. With the hope of preventing any unwanted confrontation or awkward interaction (the fateful last words), you put down your towel behind and just right of the other person. But, of course, your luck ran out and you dropped your water bottle straight onto your foot, immediately suppressing the outrageous string of vulgarities you were about to release. Evidently, the attempt was not good enough as the girl lying in front of you turned around, curious of the muffled bottle on human violence occurring behind her. She pulled down her sunglasses for a better view of what was going on. Her eyes were quite stunning, with subtle dark circles surrounding her hazel irises, making her look sort of like a panda. No doubt you looked quite insane in this moment. A man on a beach on a Monday morning bouncing up and down cursing underneath his breath with no apparent cause staring into this random girl's eyes all the while. The girl, however, seemed entirely disinterested, tutted at you and returned to her music and tanning. You eventually got yourself settled onto your towel, taking special care not to drop anything else in slight fear of panda eyes tutting at you again. You stared at the ocean for a wall before you saw the girl moving in your peripheral vision. She had sat up for a drink of water but seemed to be struggling to remove the lid of the bottle. As a chivalrous gentleman, you moved to offer to help. At which point, she did manage to get the bottle open but not in the way one would typically open a bottle. With all the force she was putting into removing the lid, she ended up jerking the bottle upwards when it finally came loose, dousing herself in water. You stopped in an squat halfway between standing up and kneeling, not sure quite what to say or do in the situation. Your knowledge of chivalry only extended so far. A gentleman should not interfere when a lady has gotten wet after all. You both remain still in the end until eventually the girl begins to dry herself off with the towel, looks at you in your strange half squat and tuts again. That was now two tuts you had received in the space of fifteen minutes from this same girl. In a very strange way, it was sort of refreshing to see someone with such little care. Some more time passes as you both return to your original positions until you are once again distracted by her movement. This time it seemed she was re-applying her sun cream. She sneaks a quick glance at you before shaking the bottle up and down and popping the lid up. She squeezes a sizable amount onto her free hand and begins to work it into her abs and stomach. You had become quite entranced by the sun cream-centric performance happening before you as she sensually rubbed the remaining cream into her skin. The girl then moves onto covering her thighs, seemingly not realising that you are watching the whole ordeal with your mouth agape. In order to get her thighs, the girl decides to sit on her knees, giving you a wonderful view of her ass in her denim shorts. Her ass swayed from side to side as she massaged the sun cream into her thighs. It was at this point, that she finally caught you peeking as she looked over her shoulder, clearly feeling your eyes undressing her from behind. You panicked and grabbed the book that was lying next with the goal of looking as smooth and relaxed as possible. You tried to seem as nonchalant as possible as the girl walked up to you and asked "You like what you see huh?" "Yep, I mean this book is amazing. Crazy that you've read it as well, I mean what are the chances of that?" was the best response that you could think of under pressure. She clearly called your bluff as she pulled her sunglasses down so you could see those cute panda eyes again. But, instead of tutting at you again, she hands you the bottle of sun cream and turns around, beginning to tie her hair up into pigtails so that you could properly cover her back. Given that this girl was even talking to you after you had so blatantly ogled her, encouraged you to try and use up all of your luck. You took the bottle and poured some sun cream onto both of your hands. You massaged the sun cream in between the girl's shoulder blades and worked your way up to her nape making sure you to press your palms into all of the sensitive areas. You thought you heard a slight moan but it could have been sunstroke getting to your brain. You finished up the application with some professional masseuse level karate chops and went to hand the bottle back. The girl takes the bottle and you sit back down, still wondering if that was an actual moan that you heard when rubbing it in. That question was quickly answered when the girl straddled you, once again handing you the bottle as she motioned towards her breasts and chest. "How rude to leave a girl uncovered like that" she added before leaning back slightly, inviting you in. You obliged because you were not going to pass up the opportunity to essentially feel this beautiful girl's breasts as she was sat on your lap. As you poured more sun cream onto your hands, the girl removed the mesh top she was wearing leaving her only in her vanilla bralette, shorts and a necklace hanging perfectly between her breasts. Her breasts were not the largest but they were pushed up nicely by the top and they fit her smaller frame nicely. By this point, she had also removed her sunglasses and was sat looking expectantly at you with those damned panda eyes. You tentatively began to rub the sun cream into her chest but she grabs your hands and pulls them onto her tits and starts massaging herself with your hands. She bites her lip seductively and pushes you down onto your towel. You both look into each other's eyes as you feel her hands work up underneath your shirt feeling up your chest and abs. Your lips locked as she caressed your upper body and your tongues collided in an unholy mess as she tried to assert her dominance over you. You were quite happy to take the backseat and let her do the work on top of you. She got tired of your mouth as her hands walked their way down to your shorts, unbuttoned them and pulled down both your shorts and boxers just enough that she could pull your now erect cock out. Without any hesitation or adjustment, she takes your whole cock into her mouth and looks up at you. It seemed strange to admit but the panda eyes + mouth full of your dick really was a good look for her. She twisted and jerked the base of your cock with her hand as she sucked up and down still maintaining the eye contact. You felt your toes stretch and crunch as she ran her tongue up the underside of your cock and finished by licking your urethra and you knew you were coming close to cumming. You relayed this information to the girl and she immediately stopped sucking your dick, edging and teasing you. The girl gets off your lap but only to remove her own shorts, revealing the lack of underwear underneath. She once again straddles your lap this time with her naked vagina lips lined up above your cock. She slowly lowers herself down, allowing some adjustment this time as you lustfully buck your hips upwards trying to bury your hilt further and further. She continues sinking down until your penis is fully inserted at which point she starts bouncing up and down on top of you. During this, the girl starts massaging her own breasts and adjusts her previously-formed ponytails, unsure where to put her hands. Seeing this, you push your back up slightly, grab hold of the ponytails yourself and pull her down towards you as you engage in another chaotic makeout session. This elicits a cute giggle from the girl on her way down as she continues riding you and you try to match the rhythm by bucking your own hips upwards, pushing as deep as possible. You match her tempo perfectly and she has to stop kissing you to moan right into your ear. You were already close from the edging earlier and that moan just about pushed you over the edge. You tapped the girl's back and she seemed to instantly catch on to what you meant as she got up off of you. You were expecting her to kneel down and keep jerking you but instead she rolled you off your own towel and lay down in your place and whispered two words that you could not have been happier to hear. "Paint me" You stood up and jerked your cock as the beautiful girl you had just randomly met on your day off lay below you with no bottoms on and waiting for you to cum on her. It didn't take much as you sprayed white streaks of cum, initially, on those succulent abs that you had watched her rub sun cream into earlier before working your way up to her face and neck. The girl smiled the whole way through as she sat up with your cum starting to run down her nose and lips. She thanks you as she rubs the cum into her abs as if it was sun cream. She allows the cum on her face to stay there as she redresses herself with the discarded clothes. You stand there in disbelief at whatever has just happened. The girl goes back to her bags and fiddles around with something for a bit before coming back over to you. She walks straight past before giving you a love tap on your naked ass before telling you to pull your shorts back up and then just leaves. You quickly restore your dignity, not wishing to be caught naked by some stranger. Although, thinking about what just happened with that girl, maybe it wouldn't be a such a bad interaction. As you go back to relax on your towel and gather your scrambled thoughts you feel a piece of paper in the pocket of your shorts. "Thanks for the cum, stranger. Much better than sun cream ;) Thinking about going camping soon, hmu (0XX-XXX-XXXX) Seoyeon" There was a cute little panda face scribbled at the bottom of the note and you put it back in your pocket, making a mental note to call that number later on. Mondays sucked a whole lot less now...

-

Thank you for reading, any feedback welcome. Wrote it quickly just because I had a rush of inspiration really. 

[sugarcubetikki]

Regarding the Spoilers Being Released By Gloob.

The initial spoilers that Gloob released were alright. The teasers don’t necessarily reveal that much info and at the start of the month, they were doing fine.

But now, there are too many spoilers being released by Gloob. Yes. I know. Other channels are releasing a lot of spoilers too but Gloob is just taking it a notch up...pretty much releasing new content everyday. 

It is understandable seeing how they get a lot of attention when their posts revolve around Miraculous, it’s quite the marketing move but personally, I feel like it has gone way too far.

Gloob has release two trailers last month. One was about the girls getting akumatized and the other revolved around Su-Han. 

Gloob released two other trailers in the first two weeks of the month. The Queen Bee tease and the Lukanette teaser.

All of these teasers are fine. They don’t reveal too much. But when Furious Fu comes into the equation, it gets crazy...

We’ve already had DC Germany release a teaser and a clip on Furious Fu. And I’m not amused. 

And then we have Gloob, they release new S4 images every Monday, Wednesday and Friday now. And they’ve spoiled parts of Furious Fu in them.

Not to mention, they released a teaser for Furious Fu on Tuesday, and chose to release a new plot summary and another teaser today.

At this point the spoilers are getting way too crazy  I feel like I know the entire plot for Furious Fu now.

It’s different with the spoilers for Shanghai. Even though, I’m annoyed, that’s a special episode and it’s an hour long. I thought they’d ruined the NY special because of all the spoilers, but surprisingly, I found it quite enjoyable and didn’t predict most of it even from the spoilers. Shanghai has still left some ambiguity though!

However, Furious Fu is a regular episode, only twenty minutes long, and we have dozens of spoilers revolving around it, and if we piece all of them together, it’s easy to determine the basis of the plot. 

And no...

This is not how I want to watch Miraculous. 

Gloob is releasing so much content and getting a lot of views for it and I don’t think it would stop.

Imagine this happening to every S4 episode. Sure. We’ve gotten spoilers in the past. But it was never this bad. As the show keeps on getting popular, channels want to compete and they release spoilers for attention, especially Gloob. 

It’s been said by the brand ambassadors and creators, that S4 is a really important season, and that it’s important that we get the best experience as possible.

I don’t think I’d enjoy knowing most of the plot before watching the episode all the time. It’d ruin the hype so much and it would be severely disappointing.

There is the option to avoid spoilers. But it’s a very difficult option. I know, a lot of people struggle with it, I struggle with it. ML spoilers are all over the internet. It’s very hard to avoid them.

That’s why...

Thank you @pandajjmusic for the idea!

She sent a dm to Gloob regarding the spoilers and how they should tone them down a bit.

I’m not sure if Gloob is going to notice it. That’s why we I decided to send a dm too and encourage as many people as possible to alert Gloob about their concerns on the spoilers.

If you have Instagram, please alert Gloob on why the spoilers are going too far.

And even if you don’t, but fully agree with my stance, please reblog so other people can see it. 

It’s important that we get as many people as possible to dm Gloob about the spoilers. Otherwise, we could being spoiled for the next half of the season. And I assure you, it’s going to get really tiresome soon. 

I’m not sure how they’ll react to the dms but it’s very likely that they won’t ignore a high number of dms alerting them about how they think the spoilers are going too far. 

This is better than saying nothing about it. At least, it gives us a chance for the spoilers to be toned down, because Gloob is releasing too many and they should know that we’re not thrilled about being spoiled too much. 

That’s why. Please. If you have Insta, dm Gloob about the spoilers. 

If not, reblog.

[mycryptosuite]

Two Sure For Monday Special Live For 07/02/2022

Two Sure For Monday Special Live For 07/02/2022

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[malfoymanortings]

lavender and velvet //part six

SUMMARY: she had her fathers eyes, his aristocratic looks, her grandmothers spite, her mothers heart, but the one thing she didn't have was the love of her father that her god brother received. juliet black finally meets her father who has already decided who his child is.

PAIRINGS: to be decided.

hello! i am so happy to see im nearly at 200 followers! once i hit that milestone, i have something special for you guys ;) hope you all like this chapter! also, if any of you cared to give me your opinion, how are you feeling about juliet’s relationships with everyone, romantic or otherwise? i just want to make sure im doing a good job at portraying her and that she is not coming off as a mary sue. thank you all, and as always if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Juliet had never so thoroughly misjudged a school year before in her life.

She really should have taken the summer as a forewarning towards the hell that awaited them at Hogwarts. Then again, she doubted anyone could have really predicted the horror that was Dolores Umbridge.

The wretched old toad was a horrible excuse for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She had told them they would not be doing magic of any kind, even though the entire point of them attending Hogwarts was to learn magic. To add insult to injury, she had the most disgusting personality, and for whatever reason, she absolutely fawned over Draco.

Well, not for whatever reason, she thought to herself, his father’s ministry contributions surely had a lot to do with it.

Of course, given her parentage, Umbridge absolutely despised her. Draco, because he loved being an utter twat, found it to be the funniest thing. It had caused a few genuine arguments between the two, because he didn’t understand that it truly bothered her. It wasn’t like the teacher didn’t like her because she was a bad student, because she wasn’t. Umbridge hated her because her father was the escaped alleged murderer Sirius Black.

Draco couldn’t seem to understand that, and per his usual behavior, he would beat a joke to death. 

The only thing keeping her from being over the edge was the meetings with Dumbeldore’s Army. George had told her about it, and despite the tension that had been there between her and Harry, she had to admit he was a great teacher. It was easier for her to put aside her jealousy of him while they were at Hogwarts, as the presence of her father was absent, and she found herself enjoying his company. He was much more sassy than she would have thought, and could keep up a banter with her that would have the others annoyed in no time. 

Being a Prefect wasn’t half bad, either. She enjoyed helping the younger students, finding it joyful to do so. It made her feel useful, and needed. The only thing that was annoying was trying to keep Draco in line, as he preferred bullying and intimidation rather than helping them. 

Due to Draco’s behavior, there was a growing wedge between them. She didn’t know how to fix it, and it upset her. 

“Black,” Blaise Zabini snapped his fingers, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Nott’s been trying to talk to you.”

“Oh,” Juliet cleared her throat, her eyes flicking from the fire to Theo, who looked at her with a smile on his admittedly handsome face. “Sorry, Theo. What is it?”

“I was wondering if you were going to Hogsmeade tomorrow.” Theo paused, waiting for his reply. His blue eyes stared at her, and she found herself self conscious under his gaze.

“Erm, I suppose so,” Juliet replied, lifting an eyebrow as she appraised the boy. “Are you?”

Theo nodded. “I was wondering if you would fancy grabbing a butterbeer.”

Juliet blinked. “With everyone?”

“Well, I was thinking just the two of us could,” he paused, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“No,” Juliet paused. “I would like that.”

As Theo smiled, Blaise snorted. Juliet glanced at him, her eyes narrowed.

“That was bloody awkward,” he shook his head. “Good thing the two of you’ll be on your own.”

“Aw, so sorry Blaise,” Juliet fake pouted, resting her chin on her palm. “Perhaps if you catch Parkinson when she’s not sucking Draco’s cock, you could go with her.”

Theo laughed at that, while Blaise flicked her off and turned his attention back to his Transfiguration homework. Juliet smirked, looking back at the fire with her chin in her hand. She couldn’t help but think of George.

He had begun casually seeing Alicia Spinnet, or at least that was what was heard around the castle. She almost didn’t believe it, but she had caught them snogging once. She hadn’t said anything, instead she acted like she saw nothing. It had hurt her, and she really wasn’t sure why. She should be happy for George, that he had finally gotten himself a girlfriend. She should have teased him, when she caught them kissing, yet, she had backed away slowly as her chest tightened.

“I’ll be so glad when Christmas break comes,” Draco sat down next to Juliet, lying his legs across her lap. “I’m so tired of having to help pathetic little first years.”

“You used to be a pathetic little first year at one point,” Juliet reminded him, shoving his legs off her, ignoring his protest. “Now look at you, a pathetic little fifth year.”

“Oh, shove off,” Draco rolled his eyes, ignoring the laughter from their friends. “Yeah yeah, you all are right gits.”

Crabbe and Goyle had arrived with Draco, both sitting in separate arm chairs. They had snacks, obviously having just come from the kitchen. They ate loudly, smacking their lips and chewing roughly, making Juliet’s stomach churn.

“Nott’s asked Juliet to Hogsmeade with him.” Blaise informed Draco, flicking through his book. 

“Did he now?” Draco looked from Theo to Juliet. “Shall I sound the bells?”

“Oh bugger off, Draco,” Juliet hit his arm harshly, standing up from her seat. She had felt her fake Galleon burn in her pocket, signaling a new date had been set for Dumbledore’s Army. “Just because you can’t get a friend to go to Hogsmeade with.”

“I’m going with Pansy tomorrow.” Draco responded smugly, crossing his arms.

“I said a friend, not a stalker.” Juliet called over her shoulder, smirking when the others laughed.

She checked the Galleon to see that they were set to meet tomorrow night at nine, probably their last meeting before they went home for holidays. Heading up to her room, she turned in for the night, thoughts of Theo and George swarming in her head.

“You’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t wake up soon,” Pansy woke Juliet up the next morning, swishing her curtains open. “Wouldn’t want to go to Hogsmeade with Theo on an empty stomach.”

“Blimey, word travels fast,” Juliet grumbled, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She stretched her arms over her head, her joints cracking as she did. “Draco told you.”

Pansy shook her head, her short black hair styled wavy this morning. “Theo did. He was practically grinning ear to ear. Made me positively sick.”

“Oh, little Parkinson can’t handle the thought of someone caring for someone other than herself,” Juliet mocked, making her way to the bathroom.

“Piss off, Juliet.” Pansy called after her, annoyance laced in her tone.

“Love you, Parkinson.” Juliet called back, smirking on her way to the shower.

After she had showered, she dressed nicer than usual. Instead of leggings and a sweater, her usual weekend attire, she wore a baggy cream sweater tucked into a short pleated black skirt belted at the waist with a thin green strap, and knee high socks. Her dark hair, usually tied back in a low pony, was free around her face. She put on more makeup than usual, spritzed on her perfume, and walked down to breakfast. 

“You look pretty,” Theo complimented her, pouring himself pumpkin juice. “And you smell nice.”

“Merlin, Theo,” Draco rolled his eyes, stabbing at his eggs. “We get it, you fancy her. Save your lovey dovey talk for when you’re alone.”

“I pity your future girlfriend if you think compliments are saved for when you’re alone,” Juliet shot back, fixing her tea. “Thank you, Theo. You look nice as well.”

“You know Draco, she has a point,” Pansy sniffed, pointedly looking down at her seemingly new blouse. “Compliments are what you give when you like someone and want them to feel nice.”

“I love when they do this,” Blaise muttered to Theo, a smile on his face. “Get on his case. Teach him manners. It’s brilliant.”

“Oh, do shut it Zabini.” Draco snapped, rolling his eyes for the second time. 

After breakfast, they split up, Theo and Juliet walked alone together to Hogsmeade. It was an unusually nice day, thankfully, even though snow dusted the rooftops and covered the ground with a thick layer. 

Walking with Theo was nice. He was very kind, and intelligent. They spoke about their homework due Monday, and their mutual dislike for Umbridge. The latter conversation carried them all the way to the Three Broomsticks, where Juliet told him about how she had gotten two detentions from her so far; because she had pointed out that they were at Hogwarts to actually practice magic, whereas Theo had not gotten the lovely opportunity. 

“Merlin, she’s awful,” Theo shook his head, looking down at her arm. “Is there still a mark?”

Juliet rolled up her sleeve to show him the faint scar that remained, reading, I must be respectful of authority. Theo’s fingers brushed gently over the raised lettering, his fingers soft against her skin, giving her goosebumps. 

“I suppose Dumbledore can’t do much about her,” Theo said quietly. “After all, she’s ministry appointed.”

“She sure is,” Juliet murmured, pulling her sleeve down once more. “The ministry is a fool.”

“Right on that,” Theo said darkly, taking a drink of his butterbeer. “Suppose it makes it easier on us, though.”

“How so?” Juliet questioned, taking a drink of her own.

“Well, with our parents,” Theo shrugged, noting how Juliet tensed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Theo,” Juliet paused, biting her lip. “Are you referring to Voldemort?”

“This really isn’t the place for that conversation.” Theo responded quietly, but nodded his head. 

“You started it,” Juliet pointed out, her stomach lacing with knots. “Are you.. On his side?”

Theo shrugged again. “I think he’s got the right idea on some things. It’s kind of hard not to be a supporter, anyways. Family business, and all of that.”

“It’s not my family business,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. “I don’t think he’s got the right idea.”

“Not entirely, of course,” he agreed with her. “I’m just saying, it probably would be better for the muggles if they had our help, y’know? I don’t really believe in the mudblood hatred, of course, I mean look at Granger, muggle born and still the brightest witch of our year.”

“I like you, Theo,” Juliet began, pausing again to bite her lip. “But I don’t know that we can get anywhere if you really support him overall.”

“Perhaps you’ll have to change my views then,” Theo replied lightly, reaching out his hand to brush his thumb over her knuckles. “Open my eyes.”

“I can handle that.” Juliet cocked her head at him, a smile on her face. Theo’s touch was nice. She felt butterflies in her tummy as they continued talking.

At some point during their conversation, Theo had taken her hand in his, across the table. Their butterbeers were long gone, but they kept talking. She was trying her best to change his opinion, and by the time he suggested they head to Honeydukes before returning to the castle, he had admitted that she made some rather good points.

A familiar voice caught her attention from where she sat with Theo, and she turned her head to see the twins head in, with two girls trailing behind them. Angelina Johnson was holding Fred’s hand, while Alicia Spinnet held George’s. Juliet felt her heartbeat quicken, and she was suddenly hyper aware of her surroundings. 

Theo noticed her change in energy, and clasped her hand in both of his as he asked if she was alright.

Juliet nodded, swallowing hard as Fred noticed her first. He caught sight of her holding hands with Theo, and nudged George while pointing over towards her. Juliet glanced away before she caught George’s eye, feeling her chest tighten at the thought.

“Looks like your twins are headed our way,” Theo remarked lightly, his hands tightening on hers. “Should I be nervous?”

“He-They, aren’t mine,” she corrected him, nerves tightening her tummy. “And no, you shouldn’t be.”

“Little Juliet, you look rather dashing today,” Fred greeted, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Long time no see. Out on a little date, are you?”

”Same as the both of you,” Juliet remarked, raising her eyebrows as she forced herself to look at the redheads. “Hey Fred, George.”

“Theodore Nott, hm?” George asked her, his eyes tight as they looked at each other.

“Alicia Spinnet, hm?” Juliet echoed him, raising her eyebrows and giving him a look as she dared him to say more.

“I’m with Angelina Johnson, if anyone cares to know,” Fred joked, breaking the tension. “Where are you two headed off to after this?”

“Honeydukes,” Theo replied, giving Fred a friendly smile. “I bet you lot just came from Zonkos.”

“Smart man,” Fred snapped his fingers, giving him a grin. “I like him, Jules.”

“Thank you.” Juliet murmured, looking away from George.

“Well, I suppose we’d better let the two of you be on with it then,” Fred gave Juliet a hug. “See you later.”

“Bye Freddie,” Juliet hugged him back, looking hesitantly at George, who was staring back at her with that odd look he had given her at Kings Cross, when he had said goodbye to her. “Bye, Georgie.”

George nodded, turning around with Fred as they headed back towards their dates. Juliet swallowed hard, unsure of the feeling in her tummy that had traveled to her chest and her throat.

“Shall we?”  Theo asked, standing when she nodded.

They left the three broomsticks, and Juliet didn’t dare look at the twins again. She didn’t understand why she had gotten so upset when she saw George. They were best friends, so why did it seem like they were both upset with each other?

Theo bought her two sugar quills, and a package of Droobles Best Blowing Gum. He had gotten an assortment of other things, for Christmas presents, he informed her. Which then, of course, made Juliet realize she hadn’t gotten any presents as of yet. She would have to remind Remus to take her.

He held her hand as they walked back to the castle, his warmth welcomed as the wind picked up. By the time she made it back to the castle, her thighs were red from the cold.

“I should’ve given you my robe,” Theo blushed, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Juliet looked up at him, smiling. “I should’ve probably worn jeans or something.”

“I quite liked the skirt,” Theo’s voice was low, and he eyed her up and down. “You are positively gorgeous, you know.”

They were alone in the corridor outside the Slytherin common room, and it seemed both of them were much aware of that fact. Theo cupped her cheek, tilting her head up slightly. He pressed his lips against hers, his lips still sweet from the chocolate frog he had eaten on their way back. Juliet reached a hand to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in the light brown strands that brushed his neck. His lips moved against hers, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. His hand stayed against her cheek, keeping her head tilted upwards. 

“Bloody hell, save it for somewhere other than the hallway!” 

Juliet and Theo broke apart, their cheeks red from the lingering cold and embarrassment, to see Draco rolling his eyes while Pansy glared at Juliet with odd anger.

“Sorry, mate,” Theo apologized, although there was little sincerity behind it. “To be fair, this hallway was private until you two showed up.”

Draco shook his head, and he and Pansy entered the common room. Juliet and Theo entered next, and Juliet excused herself to go get ready for the meeting with Dumbledore’s Army.

The feeling of Theo’s lips lingered on her own, and for a reason she couldn’t fathom she felt slightly upset by the thought that he had taken her first kiss.

taglist: @person1839 @big-galaxy-chaos @spooderham @iamashlynmarie 

[inkstainedfanfics]

Cinnamon Latte

Request:  Hey there! May I request something for the au trope prompt? Cedric Diggory + coffee shop!au + strangers to lovers + 23: “you know that your book is upside down, right?” I’m a hoe for both Cedric Diggory and coffee shop au’s😭

Word Count: 2,983

Pairing: Cedric x Reader

Requested by: @badass-dora-milaje

He first comes in on a Monday, frazzled, blond hair messy and stuck to his forehead from the rain outside. He’s cute, you decide, as he stands in front of your register, looking up to the menu board with a hopeless look.

“Need some help?” You ask, setting aside the dishes you’d been cleaning. You’re alone in the store, one of your first shifts by yourself since you started working here a month ago, and you’re intent on making a good impression. Alone means you get complete control of the music, and it’s not like the store ever gets super busy after the morning rush, anyway, so you have plenty of time to read between orders. And in this small town you’ve only just moved to, people’s orders are predictable, meaning you can have most of them ready to go by the time they come flying through the doors.

But this guy is new, and he sure looks like it as he looks to you with pink cheeks, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m a little lost.”

“You look like it. What do you like?” You ask as you dry your hands.

“Ummm, water?”

You laugh. “You can’t come into a coffee shop and leave with just water. Come on, there must be something you’ll like. How about a cinnamon latte?”

He shrugs, still utterly hopeless, but you take that as a yes.

“Great! That’ll be two sixty-five.”

As he counts out his change, you start making the latte. It’s one of the simpler drinks to make here, which is only half the reason you chose to recommend it. As you do, thunder rumbles outside, and you dare a glance back at the guy at the counter. He’s clad in a sweater and jeans, no jacket. Isn’t he cold? While late fall isn’t necessarily freezing here, it’s certainly not wonderfully warm, especially in a rainstorm.

“Do you,” he asks as he sets the last coin on the counter, “live around here?”

“I’m new here, actually. Just moved here a couple months back. What about you?”

“I grew up here.”

“No kidding? It’s a nice enough town. Or, what I’ve seen of it, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug. “I just haven’t really gotten out to see much of it yet.”

He leans against the counter, head cocked to the side as he watches you put the whipped cream atop the coffee. “Why not?”

“It’s so small that everyone feels…close. Like, I don’t know.” Your cheeks warm. “It’s really nothing. I’ve just been busy with work here and…” and nothing, really. The town just seems so close-knit that there’s no room for you. The drink’s done, though, so you have an excuse to trail off. “Here,” you say, setting the drink in front of him. “One of my personal favorites.”

He picks it up gingerly. You’d made it to-go, since few of the town’s residents ever lingered in the tiny lobby, with its two tables and single booth, but the man seems in no rush to leave. Because of the storm outside or your company, you’re not quite sure.

“It won’t hurt you,” you say as he carefully takes a small sip. “So?”

“Delicious,” he says, though he’s unable to hide his grimace.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s…strong?”

“I’ll put less cinnamon in next time.”

“It’s not that. It’s the coffee.”

“Espresso,” you correct.

“Espresso?” He raises his eyebrows. “Oh no.”

“It’s fine. It’s not that much. I can use coffee next time, too. That’ll be weaker.”

“No. No.” He squares his shoulders like this is some fight with the drink. “I need to get used to drinking coffee.”

“Why’s that?”

His cheeks tinge pink. “I just…it’s something all my friends like to drink,” he says, though he stares determinedly at the drink.

“Where do they get their coffee from?” Most of the people you see rushing through here are older, harried fathers and mothers rushing to work. Not many younger adults. “I haven’t seen many younger people come through.”

He rubs the back of his neck again. “Down the street?”

“There’s a coffee place down the street?” You must’ve failed to have seen it, then, because you could swear this is the only shop in the small town.

“Yeah. It’s small. Nothing, really. Do you, uh, do you like coffee?”

“Well, I do work at a coffee shop.”

He sighs and looks down to his drink. “I’ll like it. Eventually.”

You pick up a rag to wipe up the espresso that had splashed on the back counter. “Are you staying here long? Because I’d be careful sitting on those chairs if I were you. I don’t think anyone’s used them in years.”

He seems about to say something when he notices the clock above the espresso machine. “Is that the time?”

You glance at it. It’d been broken earlier, but you’d managed to dig some batteries out of the back of a drawer in the office and set it this morning. “Yep.”

“Shoot. I’m late.” He begins to back up, stepping toward the door. “Thank you,” he says, raising the cup.

“I hope you end up liking it!” You shout after him as he pushes the door open and rushes back into the rain.

Alone again, you settle down with your book, but the thought of that cute guy and his drink makes it hard to focus, until you give up and just grab the mop, cleaning the store before the post-work rush can begin.

****************************************

He doesn’t show up on Tuesday, but on Wednesday, at two forty-five, when you’re bored out of your mind, he shows up. The bells chime, alerting you to someone’s presence. Expecting Mrs. Keene to be early, you hop to your feet, but when you set your book down, you see it’s instead the cute guy from Monday. His hair’s still messy, but he’s grinning at you, and he seems a little less lost.

“Back so soon?” You tease, leaning against the counter as he makes his way to you.

“I told you, I need to get used to the taste of coffee.”

“I don’t blame you. Same thing?”

“Same thing, please.”

You smile. “Do you remember what it was called?”

He opens and closes his mouth twice, then, with a sheepish smile, shakes his head. “It was cinnamon.”

You laugh. “You’re halfway there. Cinnamon latte.”

“Cinnamon latte,” he says quietly to himself, and you have to hide your small smile. “I didn’t expect to be tested.”

“Well, you should’ve, because now you’ve failed.”

“How can you fail me if you don’t even know my name?”

You glance at him over your shoulder. His smile’s handsome, especially as he toys with a useless stack of business cards piled on the corner of the counter. “Touché.” A pause. “So?” You ask, returning to making his drink.

“Cedric,” he says. “Diggory. I would’ve introduced myself earlier, but you have the name tag and I didn’t even think…”

“That I couldn’t just read your mind?”

He bows his head, chin dipping against the warm orange of his sweater. “Sorry.”

You set his drink in front of him. “You apologize too much.”

He snorts. “I think this is the first time I’ve apologized.”

“And it’s unnecessary. Honestly, you’re one of the first people to introduce themselves to me.”

“They don’t introduce themselves?”

“Well, some of them do, but they’re in such a rush to get to work that it’s hard to place name to face. But Mrs. Keene certainly has.”

“Oh, I bet. She loves to talk.” He takes a sip of the latte. “Delicious.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” and he forces a smile after taking another sip.

“You’re one of the worst liars I’ve ever met.”

“You have no idea how happy it would make my dad to hear that.”

“He’s a stickler for rules?”

He hesitates. “No? Not really. He just…thinks a lot of me. Expects a lot of me.”

It’s your turn to hesitate now. You’ve only known Cedric a couple of days. What are you supposed to say about his family? That you’re sorry? That doesn’t seem right. Nor does pressing the issue and asking further about his family dynamics. He’s cute, but you’re not sure you want to hear about that just yet.

Thankfully, he spares you from any attempt at answering with a soft laugh. “Sorry, that’s a lot to tell you.”

“There you go apologizing again.”

“Sor—” he catches himself. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he shakes his head. “It’s a curse.”

“Apparently.”

You continue chatting, discussing your old hometown, your families, the way the weather has jumped from cold to hot in only a few days. When he finally takes his leave, citing a meeting with a friend, you’re surprised to see a full hour has passed, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the evening.

****************************************

You have the cinnamon latte ready when he walks in on Friday, sitting and steaming on the edge of the counter when the bells chime. He’s smiling already as he brushes his hair from his eyes. He has something under his arm, pressed against his yellow sweater.

“One cinnamon latte,” you say, returning his smile and nodding at the mug. “Ready to go.”

“I’m getting too predictable.”

“Makes my job easier.”

“Hmm.” He grabs the drink. “No pop quiz today?” He asks before taking a sip.

“Not today,” you say, humming as you start on a latte for yourself.

“That’s too bad. I’d actually studied.”

“Oh?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you pour some coffee into a small cup.

It’s a book tucked under his arm, and now he holds it up for you. “Yeah. Rented a book from the library and everything.”

You bark out a laugh when you see what he’s holding. Gourmet Coffee Drinks and How to Make Them. “You actually did study. Wow.”

His cheeks turn a light pink, but he’s smiling. “I wanted to pass.”

“Okay. So, I guess I can make a quiz special for you. Let’s start easy. What’s in a latte?”

“Espresso and steamed milk.” He rattles the answer off quickly. He saw this one coming.

“For most people, yes. You get coffee and steamed milk. How about a cappuccino?”

“Espresso and…milk foam.”

“Mmhmm.” You grab the cinnamon shaker. “Now…what about an americano?”

“That’s…”

“No cheating!” You say over your shoulder when you hear the flip of pages.

He flips the book closed. “It’s espresso and cold milk?” He asks, wincing, knowing already he’s wrong.

“Close.”

“Really?”

“Espresso and hot water. And not,” you say, setting your drink on the counter and raising an eyebrow, “anything for you.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Doesn’t sound like it. Thank the heavens for your expertise in cinnamon lattes.”

“It’s my job. Oh, and that’ll be two sixty-five again.”

He pulls out two bills and digs in his pocket, counting out exact change. What a thoughtful customer, not forcing you to do math today. “Don’t you ever get bored in here?” He asks.

You shrug, watching as he holds out a handful of coins. You hold out your hand, and he drops the coin in it, the tips of his fingers brushing your palm lightly as he does so. Your own cheeks warm in response, and you internally scold yourself. It was an accident. “Sometimes, but I can read while I’m here.”

“What are you reading?”

“Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” At his surprised look, you roll your eyes and lean against the counter, chin in hand. “I didn’t choose it, really. It was a gift that happened to be on the top of one of my moving boxes. I’ve been too lazy to unpack everything so far.”

“How is it?”

“It’s all right. I’ve read better; I’ve read worse.”

He laughs softly and leans forward, elbows catching the edge of the counter. “A stunning recommendation.”

“Hey, I didn’t recommend it. I just said I’m reading it. My recommendations, as you see,” you say, gesturing to his latte, “are always top notch.”

“Well,” he says, swirling the cup, “you were right about this.”

“I told you. I’m great at recommending things.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

A silence falls in the coffee shop, broken only by the soft acoustic music you have playing over the stereo. He’s leaning against the counter, elbows on the edge, grey eyes crinkling with his smile. The slightest hint of stubble lines his jaw, you notice. When you meet his gaze again, he seems more serious, the easy smile replaced by a searching look, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe, and you realize just how near you are, both leaning against the counter. The smell of his cinnamon latte wafts up to you, and you can’t swallow the knot in your throat. You’re close to him, you realize with a start, very close.

Clearing your throat, you shove away from the countertop, cheeks burning, heart suddenly pounding. Why? He’s just a guy. A cute guy. A cute, funny, charming guy, but just a guy. He leans away, too, clearing his throat and gathering up his coffee book, tucking it under one arm. You know, as he sets his coffee down so he can run a hand through his hair, that you actually just might be a goner for Cedric.

Great.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asks, gesturing to the small booth.

You shrug, turning your back to him to hide your own nervousness. “All yours.”

The booth creaks as he settles into it. Though you take a rag and cleaner to it everyday per store regulations, it’s rarely ever used. In your short time working here, nobody’s used it for anything but waiting for their coffee.

Soft music fills the small shop, and you quietly hum along as you set to cleaning the store again. There’s no need for it, but it keeps you busy, and keeps you from looking at Cedric. Occasionally, he flips a page, but you’re very aware of his gaze and how often it seems to stray to you.

Finally, having rewashed all of the dishes, counted the register’s cash twice, and checked the supplies in the back room, you have no other excuses, and you return to the stool behind the counter and pick up your book. You’re about to sit down, hesitate, then head back to the machines and whip up another cinnamon latte.

“Here,” you say, stepping around the counter and to the booth’s small table. “On the house.”

“For me?”

“I don’t see anyone else here,” you say, setting your own drink and book down. “Mind if I sit with you?”

“Please,” he says, half standing as you go to sit. Some old gesture of chivalry or something. His cheeks redden, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep your nervous laugh from escaping. He settles back into his side and picks up his book. A minute passes, the both of you sipping your drinks, reading, and pretending not to be sneaking glances at one another. He’s virtually a stranger, for heaven’s sake, but you can’t help yourself. He’s cute and charming, and it’s not like you know anyone else in this town. At the very least, you’ve found someone that could be your friend.

You take a deep breath, working up the nerve to finally say, “good book, then?”

“Hmm?” He looks over it at you, then nods. “Yeah. Very good. Riveting stuff.”

“Must be,” you say, fighting a laugh, “if you haven’t even noticed you’ve got it upside down.”

He opens his mouth, then looks to his book. Cheeks red, he laughs at himself. “I do, don’t I? Merlin’s beard.”

“What?”

He shakes his head in exasperation. “I’m sorry. And no,” he says, holding up a finger when you try to interrupt him, “I’m not unnecessarily apologizing. You deserve it this time.”

You set your own book down and lean back in the booth. “Do I?”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to read, but I keep getting distracted and I just—I think I need to ask you on a date. I’m sorry if this is too forward, or if you’re uncomfortable. I know we haven’t known each other long, and I keep coming to your work, and maybe that’s weird, but you seem nice, and you’re funny, and I really enjoy talking to you. But if you’re uncomf—”

“I’m free at five,” you say, biting your lip in a failing attempt not to laugh at his rambling worry. As if you aren’t interested in him as well. “And I could still use a tour of the town.”

He takes a deep breath, then releases it in a half-sigh, half-laugh of sorts. “You’re not creeped out?”

“Me? No. Why would I be?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing. Just, my friend, Fred, he said I’d be making your nervous, coming in here every day. And getting the book. He and his brother actually have money on whether you’d kick me out or not.”

You shrug. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I need a tour guide, and I don’t really want to hear about every single memory Mrs. Keene has of this place.”

“No, I can’t imagine you do. So, it’s a date, then?”

“Sounds like it.” You smile at him, and just then, the bell rings, and Mrs. Keene and her husband enter. Three o’clock, then. “I should…” you say, gesturing to them, and Cedric nods. His cheeks are a bright red, but he can’t stop smiling.

“Yeah. I’ll be here. Reading, hopefully.”

“Book right-side-up?”

He grins and flips it around. “This time, yes.”

As you round the counter, Mrs. Keene is already talking, rattling off the order you know by heart, and you find you don’t really hear anything she’s saying, heart thudding, glancing at Cedric as often as he glances at you. Five o’clock can’t come soon enough.

[whump-town]

The Gift

Here’s my Monday submission for morehotchcontent2020 @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety

Monday: Dad Hotch!

Being a single father is full of ups and downs. Of which, are unpredictable.

He has an explicit memory of walking around Walmart at 12:30 at night, Jack clinging to his chest like a koala, and trying desperately not to have a break down right there in the aisle because he couldn’t remember if Jack would drink the red Pedialyte or not.

He has also been woken up to his son carefully crawling into his bed. A gentle hand softly rubbing his cheek to feel the coarse facial hair growing on his cheeks. The little boy humming and sitting there content for two hours, just tucked up under Hotch’s chin.

The predictability doesn’t get easier just because Jack gets older.

They went through a six month period when Jack was eight, where he would only wear a pair of oversized neon green rain boots.

When he was nine he decided he loved green beans and wanted them with every meal. That’s also the year he would only drink cranberry juice. Not grape. Not apple. Just cranberry.

Then came the teenage angst.

Music playing at all hours of the day and night. His wardrobe shifting constantly and not to mention the clothes he always wanted a size too big. From eleven to fourteen, Hotch wasn’t allowed to offer physical comfort. Hugs came with mighty protest and he was given the bare minimum with “I love you”s as they rushed out the door.

But fifteen came and the hormones took a different shift.

Jack clung to hugs. He was unabashed in his love and Hotch felt a little bit of pride in knowing that he’d nurtured that. He’d raised a son capable of asking for help.

And, then, he’d blinked and gone is the never-ending music from down the hall. Jack doesn’t steal shirts or invade every second of Hotch’s privacy. There are no soft knocks of the little boy who had once only stood to his knees. No wobbling lower lips because Hotch won’t let him stay up until 11:30 at night watching some rerun of a Spider-Man cartoon.

The house is… empty.

At least, he sleeps more…

Hotch answers his phone with a yawn. It’s six in the morning and he’s finding that even if his mind acknowledges he’s retired his body has had its alarm system at six for so long he’s virtually incapable of sleeping in. But that’s okay, he’ll catch a nap around lunchtime between History channel specials.

“You’re not actually supposed to be up,” the voice on the other line says.

Hotch frowns but continues on his way down the hall. “Jack,” he admonishes. It’s far too early to play mind games with his son. He loves the boy but six in the morning is no time to play-- “are sleeping enough? When was the last time you left the house? Please, tell me you’re not a decrepit old hermit? I can call Emily. She promised to take you out to get wine drunk.”

Besides, isn’t he supposed to be the one doing the worrying here?

Jack sighs, “right.”

Hotch isn’t sure if he’s relieved he’s been spared from their little game or if he should be worried something else is weighing that heavily on his son. “How are you doing,” he asks. The tension in his tone is dropped almost immediately. Going from a premeditated aggravation to just plain worry.

Jack sighs, “I got you a gift.”

Hotch stops, frowning. “A gift,” he repeats. He tucks his phone under his chin as he sets about making coffee. “What kind of gift?”

Jack laughs, “come find out.”

Hotch frowns, shaking his head, and then he hears a key hit the lock at the front door. “Jack,” he says, his heart thudding in his chest. “I’m too old for this kind of stuff,” he says, trying desperately to sound disapproving but he just sounds broken.

The door opens and right there he is.

He’s been gone for four months but he looks so different already. They’re the same height, have been for the last year, but now Jack’s really grown into it. His clothes are unique, trousers that make him look like a man, not the boy Hotch dropped off at his dorm. He’s got a sweater on, one that Hotch is actually pretty is his own but he’s here. He’s right here.

“Don’t cry,” Jack says, stepping in and dropping his bags at the door. He’s got tears in his own eyes and collides into his father’s chest with a huff. “I didn’t come all this way to make you cry, dad.”

Hotch grunts but there are tears coming down regardless. He holds Jack tight to his chest and squeezes. Thickly he asks, “are you wearing my sweater?”

Jack chuckles, pulling back from the hug to shake his head. “I can’t believe I came here to surprise you and all you care about is the fact that I stole your sweater.”

Hotch sniffles, avoiding the accusation, and the fact that he’s blubbering like a baby. He just… he’d missed having Jack around. Even just simple things. None of Jack’s shoes spread from the hall of his room to the front door. A random pair of boxers on the stairs. No shouting. No requests for pizza nights or Poptarts added to the shopping list. “So you admit you stole my sweater.”

Jack shrugs, “it’s not stealing if you would have given it to me anyway.” Which is true but that’s not what’s important. “Will you make me pancakes?”

Hotch smiles. It’s been months since he made pancakes but he’s certain he still has mix for it in the cabinet. “Of course,” he replies. They head to the kitchen. Jack heading back to the door to kick his shoes off. He wastes no time in joining his father by the stove.

“Do not sit on my--”

And up he goes. Jack sits on the counter with a sly grin and chuckles when Hotch shakes his head. It’s strange. This place used to feel different. Now, sitting here on the counter watching his father cook pancakes in his pajamas… it feels like a memory. He’d missed this place in his bones. And he’d missed his dad.

Hotch flips a pancake and glances at Jack. “You can keep the sweater,” he mumbles.

Jack grins down at his sweater. It’s grey and old, probably older than Jack. There’s a spot worn through the wrist and it’s faded. Well-loved. “Dad?”

Hotch grunts.

“I love you too.”

[aerinsfables]

Flower Shop AU, part 3

See part 2 here.

——

Monday morning found Bracken back at the shop again. He normally had Sundays and Mondays off, but the sister who worked with him and their mother had had a conflict that day and asked him to cover her shift. “Besides,” she’d reasoned, “You’re always there, anyway.”

He’d made to protest that, despite her comments, he did in fact have a social life (not an entirely truthful statement), but then he saw her excited face and remembered that she was planning to surprise her girlfriend with a lunchtime marriage proposal, so he ultimately smiled and told her he’d be happy to take her shift if she promised to bring his soon-to-be sister-in-law over that night for dinner.

Today’s list of tasks included signing for a delivery of several different types of lilies, making some general “have a good day” and “I love you” bouquets for passersby who might wish to stop inside and pick up some flowers for their friend or significant other during the day, put together a special birthday order to be delivered tomorrow, purchase more flowers which would be needed for a couple of large arrangements that had been ordered for an upcoming funeral, call a few customers to let them know their orders were ready to pick up, and of course, more corsages and boutonnières for the coming weekend. His father would be arriving later that morning to assist, but Bracken always opened the shop, so he’d be on his own for another two or three hours.

Bracken took a peek into one of the refrigeration units inside the shop and pulled out two vases with arranged flowers and colorful ribbons. He placed those on top of the front counter and returned twice more to pull out a total of four additional vases, all of which he placed on the countertop. His trained and careful eye examined each of the arrangements to check for droopy buds, wilting leaves or other problems, but he found none; his mother had assembled these particular arrangements, and her work was flawless as usual. He called the first customer to let them know their order was ready to be picked up, and was midway through dialing the second customer’s phone number when a flurry of motion caught his eye and caused him to turn his attention to the street outside. The shop itself was located alongside a relatively busy street which usually experienced a lot of pedestrian, bicycle and vehicle traffic, but Bracken’s jaw dropped when he saw what had managed to pull him out of his work mindset.

Kendra. She was being pulled by a taller man - a bit roughly, Bracken noted, and also very obviously against her will - from the cafe across the street toward a car which had been parked not far from the very flower shop where Bracken was located.

Well. That wasn’t going to stand.

He was out the door in a flash, without bothering to lock up. Kendra looked like she was in trouble, and although he still didn’t really know her, he’d be damned if he sat back and witnessed anyone being forced to go anywhere or do anything against their will.

“You think that was funny?!” Bracken heard the man yell at her. “You leave those crazy ass flowers on my doorstep, then ghost me all weekend?! What the hell is your problem?!”

“Leave me alone!” she cried as she struggled to break free of his hold on her. “Stop!”

Run faster.

“Hey! Kendra!” Bracken called as he ran. His hail grabbed the attention of both parties, and he managed to intercept them before they made it all the way to what Bracken figured was the man’s car.

“Get lost,” the man told him.

“Let me go!” Kendra shouted, tears streaming down her face.

Bracken placed his hands on top of Kendra’s arm, then pried the man’s hand off of her and set her free. “The lady wishes for you to leave her alone,” he said simply. The man, who had dark, curly hair and what would probably have been handsome features if his face weren’t contorted in rage, yanked his hand out of Bracken’s grasp and moved to take hold of Kendra again. Bracken stepped between them, effectively blocking the man’s access to Kendra with his own body. “Excuse me,” he said. “I don’t know who you are, but it’s time for you to leave.”

“I told you to get lost,” the man positively seethed. He looked like he was going to hit Bracken, who was prepared to defend himself, when another man suddenly dashed in front of Bracken and knocked Kendra’s assailant to the ground. Bracken knew the newcomer - his name was Warren, and he and his brother owned the cafe across the street.

“Who the hell do you think you are, dragging Kendra around like a ragdoll?!” Warren yelled. “I warned you. I straight up warned you. Get out of here. If you know what’s good for you, you will never come around here again. Got it?!”

The man on the ground held a hand to his cheek. Bracken could see a bruise already forming below his eye. “You’re psychotic,” he said to Warren.

“And you’re an astounding piece of trash. If I hear about you hurting Kendra ever again, you’ll be buried trash. Have I made myself clear?” Warren’s face was flushed, and his fists quivered with what Bracken recognized as barely-concealed rage.

Bracken turned toward Kendra, whose cheeks were wet from continued tears and who also cradled her arm - the one the man had grabbed - in front of her. “Are you injured?” he asked as gently as he could.

She shook her head no.

“Do me a favor and get her out of here, Bracken,” Warren said, his eyes trained on the guy who was still lying on the ground. “I’m going to stand here and make sure this loser leaves.”

A small crowd of people were gathering to watch the show, and Bracken agreed that it would be best to remove Kendra from the situation. With a careful hand, he lightly touched her back and gestured toward the flower shop. “Would you like to come inside for a moment?” he asked.

Kendra didn’t verbally respond, but she let him guide her away from the scene and into the store. Bracken led her into the back room, the one he and his family primarily used to store their tools and miscellaneous supplies (vases, plastic wrappings, ribbons, the die-cut machine and materials, shears and scissors, etc.) and pulled out a chair for her to sit on. He then retrieved a couple of water bottles from the refrigerator in that room and passed one to her. She accepted it, but didn’t say anything, and continued to weep.

Concern flooded Bracken’s brain. He didn’t know who that guy had been, but after witnessing the altercation outside, he could understand why Kendra wasn’t in a condition to speak at the moment. “May I see your arm?” he asked.

Kendra hesitated, then stretched her arm out in front of her. It was red around her wrist, and looked tender. He wouldn’t be surprised if bruises started to form later. “It looks alright,” he stated. “I don’t have any ice, unfortunately, but I do have another chilled water bottle I can offer you, if you’d like to use it as a cold compress for now.”

“Th-th-thank y-you,” she gasped as she tried to control her sobs.

His heart went out to her. Was it inappropriate for him to hug her? Probably. She didn’t know him! And he was positive that he was making her feel awkward while he just stood there and watched her cry. He placed a tentative hand on her upper arm. “Would you like to have some time by yourself?”

She gave an emphatic nod at that question.

Bracken withdrew his hand and said, “You’re safe here. Stay as long as you need to. I can order in lunch for the both of us, later, if you’d like. My father will be here in a couple of hours, but I can tell him to leave you alone.” He cast his gaze around the room and found a few boxes of tissues, opened one, and set it down on a countertop near Kendra. “For you,” he said. “I’ll be right outside this door, making phone calls and otherwise managing the front. Feel free to call for me if you need anything.”

A shaky “thank you” was received, and he pulled the door shut as he exited. Later, when she’d calmed down, perhaps he’d ask her some of the questions which were bouncing around in his mind. Who was that guy? Did she want to press charges? Get a restraining order? Was her house safe from him? What had she been doing around this area?

Not that he was upset she’d been right outside - he was actually glad for that. He had no idea how she knew Warren, and couldn’t have predicted his involvement, but at the very least, Bracken was glad to have been able to help in some way.

Speaking of Warren. His entrance into the store caused the little bells at the front to ring. Bracken greeted him and said, “She’s safe, she’s in the back room here,” and pointed to the door behind him. “She wanted some privacy.”

“Thanks for your help out there,” Warren said. “That piece of shit finally fled the scene after he screamed some more. Dumbass thinks he can hurt Kendra. She’ll be staying with me, at least until he’s no longer a threat. Idiot.”

“I’m glad she has someone like you to help her,” Bracken replied. “Her wrist, where she was being pulled around, may start to bruise later. I didn’t notice any other injuries, thankfully.”

Warren placed a hand on Bracken’s shoulder. “Seriously,” he reiterated. “Thank you for your help. If you hadn’t intervened…” he trailed off. “You gave me the extra few seconds I needed in order to jump over some customers and get out there. Thanks again.”

“It was no trouble,” Bracken said. “I couldn’t watch that happen and not do something about it. Kendra doesn’t deserve that treatment. No one does.”

“It was trouble, but I’m grateful you were there.” Warren removed his hand. “Is it okay if I go see her?”

“Be my guest,” Bracken replied. “If you know her well, I really think she could use a hug.”

“That girl is my honorary baby sister,” he said. “She’ll get as many hugs as she wants, and then I’m taking her to my house where she’ll get all the comfort food she could ever need, along with the TV remote. I’ll give her the rest of the week off, if she wants.”

“She works for you?” Bracken asked, unprepared for that particular realization. She worked across the street?

“Yeah,” Warren said. “That douchebag showed up and took hold of her right when she was walking in for her shift. Busiest time of the day. She didn’t even make it to the front door.” He looked at the door behind Bracken again, who caught his cue.

“Go right inside,” Bracken told him. “Stay as long as you’d like.”

“Thanks again,” Warren repeated. “Seriously. Thank you.”

It wasn’t much longer before Warren and Kendra exited the flower shop, with the former shielding the latter from view. Bracken bid them both farewell, and best wishes, then resumed making phone calls to his customers.

Later that afternoon, shortly before Bracken left for the day, an email popped into the store’s mailbox. He recognized it as an answer to one of the surveys they always sent out after someone picked up their order. This one was from Kendra.

A five-star ranking, accompanied by the simple words, Thank you.

He broke protocol and responded back to her. You’re welcome. Please be safe.

—————

Read part 4 here!

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter Four

Happy Sunday all, back to the usually scheduling this week. I hope you enjoy the next week of lockdown with Jamie and Claire <3 Mod MBD.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: 

It does not matter what you bear, but how you bear it. [Seneca]

CHAPTER FOUR: WEEK TWO - Home and Away.

As Monday rolled around again, the weekend having passed by in a blur, Claire sat at the breakfast table with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. Having ventured down during the day on both Saturday and Sunday, she had hoped to bump into Jamie and pass on her thanks to his generosity but he had been out before sunrise each day and she had been asleep before he’d returned home.

Resolute, however, she chose to spend her day downstairs and hopefully get something on for dinner before he came back so she could at least start the week off right.

Fate, however, wasn’t on her side. By 10pm, with the lasagne tucked away, wrapped in foil, in the fridge, she covered her mouth with a yawn and pulled herself up the stairs to bed.

The crash and smashing of a glass bought her out of her sleep as the clock beside her bed clicked over to 3am. Pulling herself from beneath the sheets, she crept downstairs, eager not to scare him as she approached the kitchen.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asked, knowing full well he had only just returned home.

He was stood by the sink, cold lasagna on the countertop and his mucky boots still on his feet. With the fork held to his mouth, he smiled as he took another bite of the pasta, chewed and then shook his head. “I havena ever been the best sleeper but it’s lambing season, aye? One of them got into bother and I couldna leave her until I knew she was safe.”

“And she made it?”

“Aye. I was luckier tonight than I was at the weekend.”

“Oh, dear...that doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s the job, I’m afraid. If I didna lose at least a handful a year I’d be shocked.”

It was the first real (and longest) conversation they’d had since she’d arrived and she was suddenly grateful for the company. He was calm, grounded and relaxed in the way a lot of city dwellers weren’t. She could tell in the slump of his shoulders that it didn’t matter how long and awkward his day was, how messy or how little sleep he had gotten the night before, he was still weightless almost, free of the constraint modern living brought to most.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she broke in, remembering the reason she’d half-blindly stumbled down in the middle of the night, “you’ve been so amazing - to get me materials for a garden, that’s...above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Ach,” shaking his head, he finished the last of his supper, balled the tin foil up and placed it in the bin, “dinna fash yersel’ about that. It’s no’ a problem.”

He was embarrassed, she could tell. Abashed, his accent had become incredibly thick and almost impossible to understand. But it was quiet enough here that there was no background noise to blot out his sentence and luckily she didn’t have to ask him to repeat himself.

“Well, nonetheless,” ignoring the slight reddening of his cheeks she continued, “I am very grateful to you. For everything.”

With nothing more to say between them, she waved, smiled and backed off, feeling strangely pleased with herself for breaking the silence between them. Hopefully, she thought as she climbed the stairs back to her room, there would be some evenings in the future when they could eat together and she could show her appreciation by making him something warm and fresh.

-- --

By mid-week, she had yet to see Jamie again. His work was intense, and yet, despite that, he had still managed to begin construction of her tiny garden.

In her haste she had forgotten that she wasn’t allowed outside the house and, as she’d watched the greenhouse foundations being laid, she had become almost inconsolable about the fact that she probably wouldn’t get the chance to tend to any of the produce grown in it.

She knew, however, that safety was more important than new hobbies and she chose, instead, to make detailed lists of the daily needs of each of the seeds and plants Jamie had procured for her.

She started with the tomatoes and grapes, which needed to be contained within the glass walls in order to collect enough light and heat to survive. She noted water levels, soil PH and balance and daily rituals which would need to be abided by in order for the best crop to be formed. It filled most of her days and when the sun went down, she’d swap her notepad for the computer as she researched all the differences she might see in her fruit and veg determined all by the way they were treated as they grew.

Though she had never been an artist, she started to search for youtube videos on how botanical art could be created. Having no coloured pencil crayons or watercolours, she stuck to pencil sketches and began to leave more post-it’s, this time with future predictions on what the garden might produce for the household.

Once again Jamie enjoyed coming home. There had only been a few days lapse in her communications but when he didn’t see her for days, it was the one thing he could rely on to buoy his spirits.

They were different, in so many ways, but on a subconscious level, he pondered to himself at night as he held the drawing of some rare cabbage in his hands, Jamie felt as if they had very many similar quirks. He’d been pleased that his idea to leave her be for as long as she needed had been a success and was grateful she felt at home enough to reform her life around his. Her asking for the garden made him realise how easy it might be for someone else to fit into his own life without causing him much grief.

It was only a small thing, but to him it had made a huge difference. Having lived alone for so long, he had almost forgotten how malleable people could be. Though, he thought as he rifled around in the fridge for more pre-made meals, he had probably just gotten lucky with Claire.

The thought also occurred to him that she had been inadvertently raised more suited to this life than her old one, but he didn’t know enough about her to advance on the notion.

It wasn’t until late on Thursday when they came face to face together. After another heavy day and late night, Jamie finally toe-ed off his work boots at nearly midnight and made his way, quietly, through to the kitchen.

He had not expected to nearly bump straight into Claire has she dished up what looked like a very tasty stir fry.

“I thought you might be sick of reheating pasta dishes, so I thought I’d try and wait for you this time.”

“Ye didna have to, it’s very late.” He scratched the back of his neck bashfully, even she couldn;t find the truth in his words and she smiled as she placed a fresh bottle of soy sauce in the centre of the table. “But this does smell delicious.”

“It’s taken me a few attempts to hone it, but I’ve been practicing most evenings this week to try and get it perfect, flavour as well as how long I need to cook the veg for.”

“What’s the meat?” He asked, watching as his stomach rumbled audibly.”

“I used the duck, I hope you don’t mind. I used chicken earlier in the week but I couldn’t seem to get it as tender as I wanted it and a few forums online suggested that duck might be a better substitute if I wanted meat with a bit more moisture.”

“Perfect. Use any meat you want from the freeze, for anything. Honestly, I forget most of the time what I’ve got in there.”

Placing several bowls filled with various meats, vegetables and sides, she went back to the sink to wash the remaining stickiness of her hands before beckoning him to start without her. “I had hoped you weren’t saving anything for a special occasion.”

“Ach, I think the virus has put pay to anything like that for a while,” he began, filling his plate with noodles, duck and beansprouts, “my sister - she lives in Canada now - had planned a summer visit, but we’re no’ sure of anything at the moment.”

“Is she the one in the photo,” Claire enquired, taking a mouthful of her own concoction and swallowing back the relief when it tasted nice - a mixture of sweet and savory that wasn’t as overpowering or as dry as it had been earlier on in the day when she’d made the first of the final tests. “The one with brown hair?”

“Aye, she is. Her partner, Ian, got a job out there a few years ago and they emigrated. We talk as often as we can on Skype and FaceTime but it’s become sporadic recently wi’ my erratic work hours. She’s a nurse, ya see, and works odd shift patterns too. But we try and keep in touch at least once a month.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I didna really think about it, we were close....until we werena. Then they moved away and I fell into a new routine.”

He had begun to speak without thinking, filling up the silence with answers to her questions as they ate in between conversation. He had, though, had the forethought to stop before giving too much away. The thought hurt his heart and he had to inhale between a bite of his dinner to gather himself back up. He knew, given time, that he would be alright with sharing his past (as he hoped she would be with hers) but tonight wasn’t the night for revelations.

Sensing his reluctance to continue, she moved on, understanding that she herself wasn’t in a place to open up about her own family life.

“I can imagine Skype is about the only way most are communicating at the moment.” Sighing, she started to collect the empty dishes and load the dishwasher. “I’m quite grateful, actually, that I don’t have anyone to keep in touch with. It’s all...quite scary.”

It was the first time Jamie had consciously thought about the pandemic, being cut off from the outside world had its benefits and he felt relieved that he could separate himself from the constant barrage of news that he supposed others would be exposed to. He realised that both he and Claire were unique now, part of a smaller section of society where being remote was almost a blessing rather than a curse.

“If you ever need to talk, lass,” standing, he helped to clean up the remaining mess from dinner, his hand almost brushing against hers as he wiped the countertop down, breaking only to hover for a second before returning to his job, “ye know where I am. Please dinna think you have nobody...if yer concerned, aye?”

“Thank you Jamie.” Pulling her fleece cardigan across her chest she walked slowly to the kitchen door, pausing for a second in the doorway just to make sure she’d left nothing out to go cold and mouldy overnight. “The same to you. I’m a good listener, I promise, if you ever need to talk, or if you need any help.”

She’d been thinking about his life on the farm for a few days now, watching the rolling hills out of her window, seeing the sheep and cattle on the horizon and -very occasionally- seeing the silhouette of him roaming his land. There was little she could do from indoors, she knew, but there had been chores around the house that she could potentially complete. Putting herself to task, she had learned new basic kitchen skills but only this morning she’d noticed the beginnings of a hole on the seam of his trousers as they dried on the rail in the courtyard and she thought it might be something she could tend to...should he be alright with it.

Leaving with the quiet settling calmly between them, she noted the relaxing of the muscles in his face as he smiled and nodded as she turned and carried herself to bed.

Resting against the faux-marble worktop, Jamie closed his eyes as he waited for the soft slam of her bedroom door before he followed her up. She just might, he thought to himself as he undressed himself, taking a towel from his radiator and making his way to the shower, be better equipped for this life than I am.

[dansnaturepictures]

3/5/21-Bank holiday Monday of spring birds and more at Stockbridge Common Marsh

We ended another packed and brilliant bank holiday weekend of bird, other wildlife watching, walks and photos at this location where we hadn’t been since last spring in more welcome dry weather for the walk with touches of sunshine whilst very windy before the evening showers came, in a weekend that has been unpredictable for weather. I took the first picture in this photoset on arrival looking down the Marshcourt River. We were thrust straight into the spring action as we headed towards the stretch of river, seeing a Swift dart gloriously over head my second of the year after last week, and we went on to see a great few more as the walk went on really getting exceptional views of this slinky and fast dark bird. We also saw the navy blue Swallows darting over the water and beside on the walk as well and some House Martins further up which was also exciting. Nettles and marsh marigold were great flower sightings fitting coming this week when the theme on one of the photography groups I am in on Facebook is flowers in May. Then as we looked at as predicted because I have learnt they adorn river banks in recent weeks at this time of year lots of lovely pink cuckooflower on the ground like the ones in the second picture I took today in this photoset we heard a Cuckoo calling beautifully, on a third occasion for me this year which was great.

It was warblers we hoped for in the reedbeds and I heard Chiffchaff early on and Cetti’s Warbler on the walk too. Early on we heard a scratchy calling warbler in a vast area of reedbed where we had seen a target of ours Sedge Warbler and Reed Warblers before both can sound similar. First of all we saw a couple of delightful brown with a slight white throat Reed Warblers on the edge of the reeds. It was really nice views of these birds which can symbolise this wonderful habitat and springtime so well. I liked taking some photos like the fourth in this photoset, apart from at the BTO ringing demonstration at the Bird Fair I’m not sure I’d ever photographed Reed Warbler to be honest quite something for a common bird but they are obviously elusive too. Its nice photographing a bird you haven’t often before I always find. Then in a flash we spotted a glorious Sedge Warbler with its striking supercilium and yellowish hint of copper plumage. We got a stunning view of this special bird and for a while too I managed the third picture in this photoset of it. The second year running I’ve seen my first Sedge Warbler of the year at this location and third time in five years underlining what an amazing area for Sedge Warblers this richly wild area beside and in the river is. It was one of my earlier sightings of this species in a year. The other two years in the five was beside the River Itchen its been a year tick at coastal marshes too in years so its nice that they can be seen at a variety of habitats that have reedbeds.

We saw it fly along the base of the reedbed well and it settled a bit in a tree. At this stage whilst looking at one of my favourite birds the Sedge Warbler a 23rd of my list of 31 favourite birds I’ve seen this year the Tawny Owl and Lesser Spotted Woodpecker sightings two I don’t always see year to year have given me a shot of seeing more of my favourite birds this year than I have in a year for a while with that list growing quite a bit as well, we heard another of my favourites the Cuckoo calling which is a true moment to treasure for me. I often mention these together when reciting my list of favourite birds as I categorise them together due to the similarity in these habitats but also I added these two species to my list of favourite birds at the same time in 2012. So today was a special moment for like the lesser and tawny and lesser and cuckoo too as I’ve said before these two linked favourite species for me.

And it was so good to really hear this Cuckoo in context today. I’d never seen or heard one here before, but of course they are here because Reed Warbler is one of their host species who’s nest they lay their egg in and adults of that species raise the Cuckoo chick. It was fascinating to think the very birds we were watching could end up raising the Cuckoo chicks which is quite a thought.

We walked on looking at great water birds that I don’t often see on rivers here such as Tufted Duck and Little Grebe usual stars here and taking in really nice views. I took the fifth, seventh and eighth pictures in this photoset of nice views, and the sixth of one of the little Little Grebes. It was such a fine day for spring time birds that I rather joked I wouldn’t be surprised if (another target of ours) a Hobby flew over. We then remarked about how with us seeing so many birds lately this was one of a small list of targets for coming weeks. I had never seen one here before and I didn’t expect this to happen at all. 

But on the way back after watching Woodpigeons and checking in the binoculars just in case I caught sight of a falcon over the river the other side and as it flew over us and paraded right over the common and we lost it by the trees at the back of the scene we were thrilled to see the distinctive “brown shorts” and after defining markings of a wonderful Hobby! Like with the tawny/lesser experience in the woods just over six weeks ago I had predicted this and it felt amazing. I was so happy to see this wonderful bird getting a cracking view of it, a B list favourite bird of mine (I’ve seen 23 of my list of 35 of those this year too and I’ve seen a huge amount of them this weekend year ticks and otherwise actually) its one of my birds of the year always one I love looking forward to and seeing when I can. This breaks a three year stint of seeing our first of the year at Martin Down which was interesting, it was so great to know they are here. Its my milestone 150th bird of the year which I am so happy with what a fitting brilliant bird to be this milestone for me. And I’m so happy to reach 150, after the week off to start the year over the lockdown weekends I was a far cry from this really with my year list understandably a bit lower than where my others were obviously lockdown was needed and was right at that time but as March went on, through April and now into May I’ve had this unprecedented run really for seeing so many birds for the first time in the year going into spring. I always say if I can get my year lists with my life right now to between 130-150 birds in a year I’m very happy and I would have been forgiven for not really feeling I was strolling towards that at times earlier in the year whilst I knew like last year there would likely be a lockdown lifting surge, but I got to 130 fairly quickly achieving it in Easter I forgot about the target zone thing and these last 20 year ticks have flown by for me this spring that I’ve reached the upper part of my target zone without really realising or reflecting on it. Its my third earliest date I’ve reached 150 birds in a year on after April dates in my two highest ever year lists 2019 and 2018. I took the ninth picture in this photoset one of two record shots of the Hobby, it was my earliest ever sighting of a Hobby in a year as well.

As we walked back to the car we saw another Sedge Warbler flitting close to the bottom of reeds and a few of the water birds again and I also saw another of my favourite birds I had hoped to here based on past visits fleetingly, a Kingfisher. 

This evening I took the tenth and final pictures in this photoset of raindrops on the window with the weather changed this evening, this was downstairs I’d not tried one here before but had taken these types of pictures before but not for a while so it was great to try it again I do enjoy doing these. Well as I said following on from my Easter weekend and week off in April so well its been a brilliant bank holiday weekend with brilliant birds, beautiful butterflies, fantastic flowers, marvelous mammals, top views, stunning wildlife moments, great walks, lots of photos and wildlife seen at home very notably and many great relaxing moments with different things posted on my social media like my calendar reveals for next year on Twitter and Facebook too. The Tumblr reveals of those will be on the mornings of the next bank holiday at the end of the month. Year list wise it felt like a very efficient long weekend with in the patches of weather that were good for seeing things with four bird year ticks for me, one butterfly year tick and also a new beetle for me. The year ticks putting me in strong positions for both my bird and butterfly years too. I hope you have all had a great weekend and have a safe and good week.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Sedge Warbler and Hobby of the year, another of my favourite birds the Kingfisher, Reed Warbler, Great Tit, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Gadwall, Greylag Goose, Little Grebe and Mute Swan the two of them together at one point seeing how small a swan makes one look reminding of an image someone we spoke to described at Titchfield Haven in our early birdwatching days which was nice, Swift, Swallow, House Martin, Woodpigeon, Magpie, Rook with something in its mouth which was interesting, cuckoo flower, marsh marigold, nettles, dandelions and I heard Cetti’s Warbler, Chiffchaff and another of my favourite birds the Cuckoo. Nice to see another of my favourite birds the Red Kite on the way home too.