#which we’ve all agreed I can do both as long as I’m comfortable

[just-a-cinnamon-bun]

I just got a new job and I’m relieved by how much I like it so far.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Prisoner

Summary-> (Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)

Warnings-> 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, established relationship, mentions of arrest and imprisonment, swearing

daryl dixon // norman reedus works masterlist

It was an adjustment, that much was clear. After having been locked up in a prison for a few years, the last place you had wanted to be was in one, but here you and your group were, in a cell block after having cleared it out.

Your knee bounced as you sat upon the steps, gnawing upon lip, staring at the familiar grey walls that brought bad memories back into your mind. It wasn’t something you wanted to voice as a problem, you’d spent all winter out on the road, enduring the cold nights, you should have been grateful like everyone else was.

“Y’ okay?” Daryl asked as he took a seat beside you, brushing his shoulders with your own with a comforting manner, reading with no doubt that something was bothering you. Most of the day you preferred to be outside, killing the walkers that clawed at the fences, and you jumped at the chance to go out on a run for supplies just to get out of this pit of misery.

“I’m fine. Just need a distraction from all of this.” You gestured around you, sending him a small smile, feeling far too conscious to even think about falling asleep. “I know it should be good that we’ve found somewhere, and it is, don’t get me wrong, but-“

“I know.” He told you, nodding in understanding, before he put his large hand over your smaller one, clasping it in his grip and bringing it up to his lips. “Don’t have to like it, none of us do, but we woulda died if we hadn’t found this place. And that’s the last thing that I wan’ to happen to ya. I’m grateful for everything you did, ya know.”

“I know Dare.” You decided to look at him rather than the tin you were sat in, meeting his softened blue eyes. “Think if I saw Merle again I’d kick his ass for abandoning me on that night which cost me months in the normal world with you.” He grunted in agreement, smiling when remembering that you had found their camp, and you’d done just that to his older brother.

“Ya got out, that’s all that matters. Especially before all this and the world goin to shit.” The thought of you trapped in somewhere like this and most likely being turned into walker chow or one of them had his heart bursting at the seams. It was a vulgar thought, and the last thing that he ever wanted to happen to you. He wanted to protect you, and he should have done that before, but he was petrified, and you were too stubborn and claimed that you had to pay for your mistakes.

He’d come to see you a few times when you were locked away, he hated that a panel of glass separated the both of you, all he had wanted to do was run his fingers through your hair and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t, so instead he counted the days and hours until your release, he had this whole idea of collecting you from that place and driving you far away.

But your release day had been the same day that the entire planet was engulfed with the spreading news of a disease that turned people into monsters, and Merle wouldn’t let him go to see if you had made your sanctioned escape. He had no idea whether you were still alive until he saw Shane carrying you into the camp, exhausted from the lack of both food and fluids and running god knows how many miles just to survive.

“Guess you’re right.” He always was, even if he was too selfless to admit it. “Do you maybe want to try sleeping in a cell? I know we’ve got this whole thing of liking the floor, but I guess it’s worth a try.” Daryl surprising agreed, pulling you to your feet after he had stood, the two of you walking to an empty cell, passing by the other members of your group that were either asleep or lying down in isolation.

It was a big step for you to enter a cell after the months you had been holed up in one by the law, but Daryl kept his hand on your elbow, reminding you that he was there. And always would be. And so unsurely, despite it being your idea, you stepped within the cell, it was devoid of any personality, just a bunk and the normal silver basin and toilet, which all reminded you that this wasn’t home. You hoped that one day you’d find somewhere that felt less suffocating, there had to be a place out there, beyond the chain fence, where it was safe to breathe without the risk of walkers eating you in your sleep.

As you entered the room, you were strangely comforted by the sound of Glenn’s snoring from the cell over, he was no doubt laying beside Maggie, then both lulling in the chance to rest. “It’s not so bad.” You muttered, kicking off your mud accented boots, as Daryl remained close to the door, blocking the view from anyone that could pass as you shrugged out of your jeans, and lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. It was something that you hadn’t been able to do in prison without the harassment of officers or other people fulfilling their sentences.

Daryl said nothing as you stood still for a moment, closing your eyes, before you reached back, unclipping your bra, his eyes danced over the expanse of your back, every scar traced by his pupils and every mole a target that he planned to pelt with gentle kisses. You turned around to face him, like a vixen testing his limits, tilting your head as you padded along the floor towards him, your fingers brushing against his sleeve butchered flannel. “I want your shirt.”

There was no resistance on his part as he helped you unbutton each button on it, shrugging it off of his broad shoulders as he handed it to you, watching you slip it on. You inhaled his scent as you did only a couple of the buttons on it, before testing the mattress with your hand on the bottom bunk, before sliding upon it and closing your eyes. “Aren’t you going to join me?” He said nothing as he silently kicked off his own boots, tossing the knives he carried out from his pockets onto the floor, them deliciously clattering upon the cement, as he readied himself to lay beside you.

“It’s been a long time since we had a bed.” Daryl spoke in hushed volume, not counting the time on Herschel’s farm after he had been scathed by a bullet in the left side of his head, no thanks to Andrea. He shuffled as he tried to get comfortable, deciding on laying on his side and facing you, trapping you in his arms as his nose brushed against your own. “At least it’s better than that one you had in your shitty old trailer.” He smirked, watching as you tapped his shoulder with your screwed up fist, rolling your eyes when you remembered why it hadn’t been so comfortable.

“It was perfect, we broke it in. Not my fault that the springs couldn’t hold up.” He shook his head at your words, clearly that sale you had got it from had been a scam, but you had insisted that it was better than sleeping on the floor. Truth be told, Daryl didn’t care where he slept, as long as he had you securely beside him, he never wanted you to be taken away from him again, and he was insistent that he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“I think you’re the one tha’ couldn’t hold up. Or be quiet.” He remarked, causing a scoff to pass from your lips, as you attempted to turn away from him but he wouldn’t allow you. Instead his grip on you got tighter, as he raised a brow at your actions. “But if yar blamin’ it on the damn mattress, we migh’ as well see if this one is any better.” It wasn’t very often that Daryl would smirk, but when he did, you practically melted in a puddle in front of him and forgot where you were, which in this instance, was a blessing. His hand trailed down your sternum that was exposed by your lousy buttoning of his shirt that you wore, descending dangerously lower, so that his fingertip hit the top band of your panties.

Your breath hitched, as your body became almost immobile, frozen from his more that welcomed touch. He teased you, running his hand hand back to your stomach only to trail it back down to where his destination had been. “Damn it Daryl, do something.” You hissed, careful to keep your voice down. “I swear to- oh.” His hand had slipped into your underwear, rubbing against the outside of your cunt, causing your hips to jut up into his touch. He always knew how to make you sufficiently aggravated, you’d have cursed out from the bubbling annoyance in your chest if you had no worries that anybody could hear the two of you.

With that he slipped a finger into your walls, it felt like it had been a long time since the two of you had an opportunity to be physical. All through winter, after losing the farm to the mass of endless walkers, you’d had sex once out in the woods, when you were supposed to be hunting, and because of your lack of action you felt touch starved. Even despite Daryl proceeding to hold your hand when the pair of you rarely walked at the back of the group, and sleeping side by side with him. It just hadn’t been enough, but for now these taunting walls allowed you some release, ironically enough.

“Yer so fuckin’ tight.” Daryl muttered, kissing up your stomach all the way up to your lips, ushering and drinking your whimpers that threatened to escape. “Woulda fucked ya more if I’d had the chance baby, now I’m really gonna have to stretch ya out before I can put my cock in ya.” You could only moan into his mouth, hands clasping around his wrist as you ground yourself down on his hand, you let out a squeal as he unexpectedly entered another finger, alarmed by the welcomed intrusion, however Daryl stopped all movements. He spoke quietly to himself, eyes dancing around with a scheming glimmer in his eyes, as an idea revelled in his mind.

He yanked a pillow out from beneath your head, causing you to pant as you clenched desperately around his fingers, trying to allure him into continuing. Daryl raised your hips, fingers still in you, as he placed the pillow beneath them, your mouth making an O shape as he hit a new angle inside of you. If you hadn’t been in a prison, knowing that it was your worst nightmare, he would have calmed your sounds by placing the pillow over your head, but he knew where the line was drawn and he was never one to cross it if he was aware of your discomfort. “Good girl.” He drawled out, deciding to fasten the pace of his fingers as a wet spot began to leak onto your panties, he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched you. You were close, and it had come faster than expected, given how many months it had been.

“More.” You pleaded, wanting his cock, no matter how much it hurt when he stretched you out, but instead you were given another finger, and Daryl grunted as he rutted into the bed. “Dare, need you.” You huffed, feeling empty when he removed his fingers. The time dragged as he unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans, and finally he clambered on top of you, his naked form teasing every nerve in your entire body. “If you need me so bad, why don’ ya ride me?” He whispered, rolling the both of you over so that you were atop of him. You leant down, your hair falling in a cascade around both of your faces as you pressed your lips against his, sliding your cunt over his cock.

He was frighteningly hard, it had been months since the both of you had gotten this far, and there were no interceptions that could stop you this time, or so you hoped. Your slick coated his length as you ground yourself on him to fulfil your own insatiable drive of hunger, his hands bruising your hips as he attempted to keep you still so he could slip inside of you from beneath your trembling form. His tip grazed your clit, sending you into a frenzy, you couldn’t wait a second longer you mindlessly decided, grasping his erect cock in your hand to hold it still, as you slid him inside of you. It was an ethereal feeling, the two of you relished in the sensation of being so close, and not just emotionally.

Daryl’s head reached up, pulling you down flush on top of him, as he spread an array of butterfly kisses over your collarbones and the middle of your throat. “I love ya girl, you drive me absolutely crazy, but yar my kinda crazy.” He stroked your hair lovingly out of your face, distracting you from how he raised both of the weights of the lower halves of your bodies up, and before you could respond with your own spoken words of love to him, he began to thrust up into you, making the world around you drown into nothing more than a distant memory. Your breathing was messy as it mixed with your partner’s, you sturdied one hand on the pillow beneath his head, the other long discarded to the floor, as your opposite braced itself on the wall, clawing at the impenetrable surface.

“Fuck Dare.” Tears were glazing your eyes as you felt each vein of his cock within your cunt, and you began to move with his own thrusts, finding a rhythm that suited the position that you were in. You were careful not to raise your head too high so that you didn’t hit it on the bottom of the bunk above you, Daryl’s right hand left your hip and rested forcefully on your ass, squeezing the flesh as he tried and failed to hold in his grunts. Surely by morning, there was no doubt that someone would make a commotion about hearing you through the screen-less doors, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not after how long it had been since you had evoked such passion with the man below you.

Sweat began to bead upon his forehead, slicking the growing locks onto his face, as you brushed them away. A heavy creak rattled from the bed as Daryl once again turned you over, and pounded in you from above, without allowing his cock to slip out from your sweet and wet pussy. From the red tint that had appeared on his face, and how he frowned as though he was on a mission, it was clear that he was getting close, which wasn’t a surprise considering the amount of time that had passed since your bodies had moulded together in such a way. You grasped him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to entrap him in a fiery kiss, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you approached your own high.

And there it was, the destination that you had been caving for, your own release. After all of those months that you had served as a resident in a prison, you’d missed his touch, and as soon as the two of you had reunited in Atlanta, you’d made the most of the time you could get together. Daryl’s thrusts began to get sloppy as he struggled to keep up his pace after feeling you clench around his cock and cum all over it, sending him into a delirium to chase his own high. He could feel his balls straining to be emptied, and when he was almost there, he pulled out, not wanting to further the risk anymore of getting you pregnant given the state of the world, and began thrusting himself in the apex of your thighs, until finally he allowed his seed to spill over your flesh.

He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning down to press a kiss against your sweaty hairline, before reaching down and grabbing your discarded shirt, wiping your upper legs clean. He wasted no more time to curl up next to you and bring you into his large arms, staring at your face, letting you know without words that you were the most important thing to him. He’d do anything for you and to keep you safe, nobody was going to separate the two of you again, he was stern on that. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad.” You muttered lovingly into his chest, brushing your nose against where his heart lay, and Daryl releases a small but real smile as he tugged the blanket out from tour forms, awkward as his manner was, and wrapped it around the two of you, so that you could drift off to sleep in his arms and pretend for a moment in your dreams that the world wasn’t as it was.

[angel-in-your-basement]

Hi, i Hope to not disturb you, but I'm discovering new things about me with your blog, the problem is that I always feel guilty, and disgusted by myself even if i find It okay or attractive when other Person share It.

Any advice on how to deal with this senseless emotion? 🤡

Thanks to you in advance even if you don't answer, love your writing and your blog, big hug if you are comfortable with them <3

Hi!

Sorry I wasn’t able to get to this sooner! This is gonna be a long one, so I’m gonna put it under the cut. Let’s talk about one of my favourite topics: kinks & shame/guilt/disgust 🥰

So in my experience, over time your brain will get used to the ideas, and the disgust level will go down naturally - especially if you talk about it with other people who are into it, because that helps to normalize it.

But that’s not an 100% fix, so let’s talk about some things you can do to actively manage the icky feelings.

First of all, guilt + shame + disgust are all feelings that are intended to protect us from doing bad things & being bad people. When you start doing or wanting to do something that you’ve been told is “bad”, it’s normal to feel bad! It makes a lot of sense, actually - it’s our brains trying to keep us on track with our values & maintain our relationships.

But, of course, what we’ve been told is bad is generally not objectively bad, it’s heavily influenced by opinion, unprocessed emotion, politics and a whole bunch of other shit. So what we want to do is identify what we’ve internalized, and whether that actually fits for us.

The single best thing you can do is to get curious & (gently & non-judgementally) question those thoughts.

So here’s some questions to get you going & explanations to go with them:

Why is this kink “bad”? Where is that idea coming from? Do you 100% agree with this? Why or why not?

Often, it’s something very black & white like “hurting people = bad”, but when we actually unpack it, there’s a LOT of nuance to it. Like, what counts as hurting? Emotional? Physical? Is someone being hurt always a bad thing, or is it sometimes necessary in order for us to learn/hold boundaries/etc.? What if someone wants to be hurt? Is there any situations hurting someone might be okay in?

What do you feel like it says about you that you’re into it?

Generally, this comes down to something like “if I am into this, I am a bad person”. So I would question again: what’s a bad person? How do you know if someone is one? What is the exact criteria and cut off point for being “bad”?

One particular point to mention here is that it is my very strong belief (guided by research + my job + personal experience) that thoughts, feelings, urges etc. are not “you”, and they are not bad. Where we get into “bad” territory is in how you deal with them. I am a big supporter of identifying the core needs behind your thoughts & urges, and meeting them in healthy ways, like kink! Which leads us to…

What are you getting out of this kink?

For instance, a lot of my kinks, both sub and dom, come from my need to be wanted, and exploring the extremes of that (what if someone wanted me so bad they would do anything to have me? What if someone wanted me so bad they would do anything I tell them?). Other common themes are control, exploration of insecurities, exploration of shame/taboo, and so on.

Do you want to be okay with this kink? If yes, what boundaries do you need in place to help you feel better about exploring it? If no, why not?

This one is important because you don’t HAVE to be okay with a kink. You don’t have to engage with it, even if your horny brain thinks it’s a good idea. If you don’t want to engage with it, set out a plan outside of horny time for how you will hold that boundary. If you do want to engage with it, what parts are most uncomfortable? Do you need to engage with them in order to engage with this kink? Again, if you DO want to be okay with stuff, ease yourself into it. Go slow.

And most importantly: connection

Nothing helps more with shame than to talk about what you’re ashamed of with someone who you know will be kind, non-judgmental and can relate to you. That’s what kinky friends are for!

One final note:

If you are worried that you are a bad person, it’s extremely unlikely that you are. Bad people don’t sit around worrying that they are bad.

[ninyard]

From the banter fic prompts #14 "who does this belong to" pretty please

short silly fluffy domestic andreil for you my friend! thank you for the ask <3

“Who does this belong to?” Aka the disagreement over sharing clothes sometime in the distant future.

-

“You are long past the days of being a liar,” Andrew was lazily folding laundry at the end of the bed as he insisted on continuing the meaningless play argument they’d started earlier. One pile next to him was freshly dried clothes Neil had washed earlier, the other side haphazardly folded clothes Andrew simply refused to fold neatly. “Admitting it to yourself is the first step.”

“I have nothing to admit.” Neil held his hands up as he sat with his back to the headboard of their bed. It was one of those days full of nothing but chores, the day of the week in which they had to force each other to complete the menial domestic tasks that kept their home running smoothly. He was trapped by the cat on his lap, of course, his excuse as to why he wasn’t helping Andrew with the folding. Both of them were comfortable in their sweatpants and pyjamas, and a record played softly from the living room. “We’ve been sharing clothes since my sophomore year. I’m telling you this argument is invalid.”

Andrew paused and pointed at the hoodie Neil was hearing. Neil took the strings in his hands and smiled, his head cocked to accompany the cheeky grin. “That is mine.”

“This is ours,” Neil corrected him, and Andrew shook his head as he placed down the T-shirt in his hands. “Not yours.”

“I specifically remember buying that before a game in New York because all the clothes I’d packed were too thin, and it was cold.” Andrew said, then re-corrected Neil. “It is mine.”

“So, whose t-shirt are you wearing right now?” Neil nodded towards the beige top Andrew had pulled off the floor that morning.

“My own.” Andrew said, nonchalant, knowing Neil hadn’t succeeded in proving his point. “Because I bought it without explicit intent for it to belong to the both of us. I bought it for me. You can wear it if you want, but it’s still mine.”

“Bad example, then, because I’ve never worn it.” Neil leaned forward and pulled a sweater out of the pile of clean clothes that he knew both of them adorned pretty often. “Who’s is this?”

“Yours.” Neil tutted in disagreement, and Andrew waved the reaction off. “Just because we are living this domestic nightmare doesn’t mean we have to become the same person, you know. You can just settle for saying you like wearing my clothes.”

“But I’m not wearing your clothes.” He folded up the sweater to help out, throwing it onto the already-folded pile. “That’s our sweater.”

“If you say so.” Andrew shrugged and threw a T-shirt at him. It disturbed the sleeping cat, who jumped off the bed and skittered away on the hardwood floors. “Who does that belong to?”

Neil held it up and looked at it. “Both of us.”

“That’s yours.” Before Neil could put the tee down, Andrew threw another, causing him to drop it anyway as the second article of clothing hit him in the face. “And who does that belong to?”

Neil recognised it without having to look. “That one is mine. I’ve never seen you wear it.”

“You are so close to getting it.” Andrew threw two more at him in quick succession, and Neil laughed as he struggled to catch them both. “Rapid fire. Tell me, Neil, who do they belong to?”

“This one is yours because it’s too big for me.” Neil held them both up, dodging another one being thrown his way. “This one is ours, and that one,” he nodded at the third one that had gotten caught on their headboard. “That one we both wear, so it’s both of ours too.”

“Yes, no, no.” Andrew caught them with a soft, barely there smile, as Neil hurled them back his way. “You bought the second two, so they’re yours.”

“But you love that one.” Neil gestures towards the one his boyfriend was currently folding. Andrew pouted, neither agreeing or disagreeing, even though he knew the statement was true. “You always wear it. Is it too romantic to just admit that there are some things in this life that belong to the both of us, together?”

“Our home does.” Andrew tilted his head back and forth. “Our cats do. There are things we bought as equals that belong to both of us. There are pieces of clothing,” he held up a hoodie as an example. “That we bought together. Although it may come as a surprise to you, the things you buy these days do actually belong to you.”

“Sure,” Neil leaned forward to pair together some of the socks that sat with the pile. “But normal couples share things.”

“And we do share things,” Andrew nodded. “My point is that if we ever had to go our separate ways again, there’s things you would take, that if I asked you right now who they belonged to, you would say both of us. That’s all.”

“Oh, so it’s like, you’re just covering your ass for when we break up, is that it?”

“I meant if you transferred teams, dumbass. But if that’s where your mind takes you, then maybe you and I should have a conversation.” Andrew said. Neil didn’t bother to argue and just shook his head at the suggestion, still smiling as he tucked one sock into the other. “I just don’t agree that everything we share has to belong to the both of us.”

“That’s your opinion. I just don’t have to agree with it, either.” Andrew placed the empty laundry basket on the floor and picked up the pile of folded clothes to put them away as Neil spoke. “But truthfully, you only think that because it means you can still say that you like how your clothes looks on me. I know that’s it.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Andrew tucked the t-shirts into a drawer. “Maybe you’re wrong. Usually wrong.”

Andrew knew there was some semblance of truth to what Neil had said, and Neil knew it too. They would argue about it again, at some point. For now, they agreed to disagree, and Andrew tucked away his own hoodies.

Neil put away their socks.

[frogs00]

And they were roommates! Chapter. 1

Summary: Basically, an post-canon AU when the whole Mean Girls (2024) rent a house and live together, what funny antics will they get into?

“Why are you looking at all these expensive ass houses for rent?” Janis said, peeking over her friend's shoulder. “A boy can dream can’t he?” He said, nudging her playfully, she rolled her eyes playfully and offered a small smile. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, pretending to look at her phone. The friend group was going to stay close, considering that they were all going to college locally. This was comforting to her considering how much she adored her friends, most of them, but she still had mixed feelings for Regina. She cared so much for her but also found her unbearably annoying and arrogant.  (She had made appends. She had, she really had. She was proud of herself and Regina.) Suddenly something caught her eyes, “Scroll back, scroll back!” She said, rather loudly. Damian did as he was asked, and Janis pulled the laptop into her lap. Eyes scanning the screen. “What is it?” He asked, his tone slightly annoyed, trying to look over her shoulder. “We could afford this. The rent is not bad,” She said, returning it to him. Her eyes were wide with surprise, “All of us together.” Damian’s eyes scanned the screen, “Bitch, this is a five-bedroom,” He looked up at her doubtfully. “All of us,” She repeated, counting people off on her fingers, “Me and you, obviously,” She said matter-of-fact, “Cady, Aaron, Gretchen, Karen,” she hesitated, “And Regina.” “That’s ridiculous,” He said with a laugh. He studied her face, and she raised an eyebrow, giving him a face that said ‘seriously.’ “Are you serious?” He asked after a moment. “We’re looking for a place to go, and it’s close enough to all our colleges.” She argued. Luckily, they all decided to go to college locally. “We’d have to talk to everyone about it,” Damian mused, “but, I can’t say I wouldn’t be down, but doesn’t this seem unrealistic?” he started typing something out. Janis shrugged, maybe a little, but she loved this idea, “All the couples could share a room, and me and you. Regina rich-ass could have her own.” She said, considering the blonde was also looking for a place for rent, and talked about renting a penthouse. (Which was ridiculous for an almost 19-year-old, and Janis talked her out of it.) Damian snorted at that, “Valid.” “We should call everyone up, this is too good of a chance to pass up.” Janis bounced. Something she only really did when she was very excited (and around Damian, she’d never do something like that around anyone else). She texted their group chat, giggling like it was the funniest thing ever. Which it wasn’t, she was just nervous, or excited. Both. Are we seriously doing this? Janis glanced up from her phone before sending the ridiculously long paragraph text, Damian seemed to read her thoughts and nodded. She clicked send.

- “So I and Cady did the math, we can afford it,” Damian concluded, the group nodded along, murmuring amongst themselves. The only one not nodding or talking was Regina, who was sitting with her legs crossed, seeming to be deep in thought. “So, we can all live together, but can we live together?” She asked, and everyone turned to her. Janis noticed how confused everyone looked, and rolled her eyes, it was perfectly clear what she meant. She knew Regina— She stopped that thought, she didn’t know Regina that well. She knew her thought process very well. “We will all do fine, and I’m sure we,” Janis gestured in between her and Regina specifically, “Will tolerate each other, I mean, we’ve been around each other all summer, no issues…” She trailed off when Damian raised his eyebrow, “Little issues.” She corrected. Regina seemed to contemplate this, before nodding, “I never thought I’d agree to live with you, of all people, but solid plan,” She paused,  “I’m in, I’ll just have to discuss it with my mom.” Janis was surprised that she agreed to this so, She thought that the blonde would be the hardest to convince. “Great,” Damian said and turned to the other four people, “What do you guys say?” Seven people in one house, is this going to work? She worried, biting her lower lip, scanning the four. Cady was whispering to Aaron, while Gretchen was deep in thought, holding Karen's hand. Karen spoke up, “I’m in,” Gretchen’s eyes widened, and Karen noticed, “The money I have from working at the volunteer shelter is more than enough to pay my half, plus I’m taking a gap year.” she explained with that signature smile of hers. “Well, I guess that means I’m in too,” Gretchen said softly, sounding nervous but sure, “I already had money saved up, so it’d work.” She didn’t elaborate on it though. She knew she was well off, and had gotten a scholarship. Janis herself had gotten a scholarship, which she was so very proud of, she worked her ass off for it, and she was going to major in visual arts. The money was a struggle, she wasn’t exactly poor, but was by no means rich. Her mom was no help at all and had kicked her out as soon as she could, she had lived with Damian, which was fine, she was hardly there. She had a night job over the summer and had worked weekends at a children's center, teaching them music. She pulled herself from her thoughts and looked around at the chattering group. That’s everyone! She beamed as she realized, that Cady and Aaron already agreed. 

Regina was still very quiet, she was staring at Janis. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes were bright as if she was smiling. She met her gaze and they held it for a while before Regina mouthed ‘Good job, idiot’. It made her grin and roll her eyes. This is going to be great. -

This was not going great, they finalized the rental agreement, which was great.  But, now Janis was stuck emptying her and Damian’s shared storage locker, with Damian himself of course, but also Regina, who had tagged along because she had some furniture stored in the same place that she wanted for their house. “It is burning hot, couldn’t we have waited?” Janis groaned, carrying a box to a van. “No, actually, we couldn’t because you are the one who is too cheap to pay for another month.” Damian snapped, while Regina just hung back, leaning on her car, relishing in the shade that her Jeep provided. “Okay, yeah, you’re right.” She snorted, and Damian rolled his eyes dramatically. She pointed to Regina, “And what are you doing?” She asked, sassing her. “Waiting for Shane and his friend to get here,” She said and shrugged, picking at her nail. It wasn’t like Janis had that much stuff anyway, only about 6 boxes, collectively, they had a Van full of stuff. Frankly, we need to go through this stuff, what even is that? A Boa? She picked up a pink death boa and draped it around her neck. “Who’s even is this?” She asked, holding the edge of it in her hand, making Damian snort. “Who do you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Regina watched her with amusement that Janis barely caught. “Mine, for sure,” She said, putting on a posh accent, “I just look gorgeous, don’t you think darling?” She puckered her lips and threw the boa over her shoulder. Damian rolled his eyes and snorted. “You better put that back when you’re done.” He said, and turned around, picking up a box of plates. Janis laughed and caught Regina staring, looking amused. “You’re such a dork.” She said, no malice in her tone, almost sounding…affectionate?Janis took a bow, “Why thank you, I try.” Regina laughed, a sound that made butterflies rise in her stomach, for reasons she’ll unpack later. She took it off and stuffed it back in the box of Damian's stuff, picked it up, “Bye sucker!” she stuck out her tongue and dashed past him towards the van. He called after her, something she couldn’t catch.  She placed it in the nearby van, and dusted off her hands, “That’s the last of the moveable stuff, now we just have to wait.” Damian nodded, putting the box he had in there and then reaching up and shutting it. They rejoined Regina who was just chilling, she couldn’t do much because of her back, but she didn’t have to. Janis wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “Glad that’s done, when are the guys getting here?”

Regina checked the time, but as soon as she opened her mouth to speak,  a loud honk interrupted them. “Hey!” Called a booming voice from the car window, it was Shane, and Regina rolled her eyes. “Speaking of the devil.” She muttered softly, “Hey, Shane.” She added louder, smiling nonetheless. Janis rolled her eyes, not sure completely why. Janis didn’t hate Shane or anything. Regina and he were just friends, Regina made sure of that for god knows why (unreturned feelings or something Janis didn’t follow their falling out), but he was a cool dude. The two guys parked, and filed out of the car, he jogged up to them, “Hey Regina! Hey shortstack!” She greeted them both, and Janis rolled her eyes again, “This is my friend, Kyle.” “First of all, nice to meet you.” She said nodding at Kyle awkwardly, (Just because she was a lesbian, didn’t mean she hated dude, she just found them sticky, loud, and annoying, but they were fine), “And don’t call me that, I am not that short.” She added. “Agree to disagree.” Regina butt in making Shane laugh, Janis went to snap back when Damian poked his head out of the storage locker. “Yeah, Regina right, but moving on,” He said, giving them both a warning look, “let’s move this couch and table, then get going already, it’s hot.” He pulled out a fan from who-knows-where and fanned himself. This made action Regina snort, and Janis roll his eyes, but the two guys seemed pumped to help. Janis just stood to the side and watched the three move it. Janis would offer to help, but she wasn’t exactly the most physically strong. Once they loaded everything in, she bid the two goodbye and thanked them for their help. Regina climbed into her car, after supervising for about an hour (Or maybe just watching Janis out of the corner of her eyes, who knows?). Damian hopped into the driver's seat of the rental van while Janis hopped in the passenger. “To our new place!” He said rather dramatically, making Janis smile. “Away we go!” She added, and he put the car into drive, and they were off.

[concentrateandpush]

Request/idea fiction: an intimate scene of only the couple homebirth, where pushing is long? Thanks

We met around a year and a half ago and as a lesbian couple, nobody expected us to announce our pregnancy at our wedding which happened a year after we met. I guess we just both knew what we wanted and figured waiting would be pointless.

My wife is carrying, I’m desperate to carry too, but she’s slightly older and so, we compromised. What we didn’t compromise on was the delivery. Blair wanted a very intimate delivery, just her and I. I’ve given birth before, a long time ago, back when I was young and stupid but rest assured, my son went to a perfect home.

It’s 1am and we’ve just eaten our weight in pizza and spicy noodles, we’re watching TikTok in bed and Blair turns to me with a look of concern. “Lena, how much pain is too much pain for just a twinge?” she asks and I look back with curiosity. “I guess.. I mean-“ I stop and laugh “Baby, has it started?” I ask. “I think.. I think I’m having labour pains” she says nervously.

We didn’t want anything fancy, just the bath for water, the bed with a towel and the coziness of our cottage.

“Okay, you’re okay” I nod “let me get you a hot water bottle and I’ll get you comfortable” I smile reassuringly. “Don’t you dare leave me” she says stubbornly and I roll my eyes “come here” I whisper as she rests her head on my chest, whimpering quietly. “Shh, shh, shh” I whisper “you’re okay, everything is going smoothly” I add.

The contractions are dull and achy but I see the struggle she’s having, so at around 4am, I suggest us both sleeping, which at first, she absolutely refuses to try, but after a few back and foot rubbies, she agrees.

It’s not until 10.30am that I wake to her rubbing her belly in her sleep, moaning relatively loudly, but not even waking herself up. “Okay, okay sweetheart..” I nod and take over the rubbing as she opens her eyes slowly. “You’re doing great mamma” I smile reassuringly. “Mmm, baby” she moans “it hurts, it’s hurting me” she grumbles as she reaches down to touch herself. “I’m not wet, so my waters are still intact” she says almost trying to convince herself she’s got ages to go.

I sit up slowly and kiss her forehead before throwing my hair up and I climb between her legs, resting my head on her thigh. “You look sore” I sigh, looking at her tummy. She just nods before reaching for my hand “it’s coming” she whispers and I nod, stroking her thigh gently. She paces her breaths perfectly as she takes the contraction in her stride. “That’s right, in and out, slowly and gently” I nod. I can tell it’s intensifying because she’s moaning with out even realising on an out breath.

“Baby I need..” she mutters “I need to get in water” she says quickly and I nod reassuringly before heading out to run a bath. I know it won’t be long now, I can just feel her getting closer.

As the bath finishes filling, I go in and take both of her hands, steadying her before guiding her into the bathroom and lowering her into the bath. I take a cup and pour it on her bump, taking it all in because it’ll be the last time. “I want him out so badly, but I’ll miss this” she sighs and I laugh “you’ll miss the sickness? And the heartburn? And the fact I’ve not been able to touch your boobs for 9 months?!”. “Oh baby, you know what I mean” she laughs, knowing I’m teasing.

“Mmmm” she moans, going ridged “I..” she starts before humming a low pitched tone, cradling her perfect bump. “Let it out, good job” I whisper. “Ba-baby!” She screams as I see the water turn cloudy. “Was that-“ she starts and I nod “yep”. “So, my waters have gone?” She asks to clarify and I rub her leg, excitedly “mhm, baby’s coming”.

I find my hand between her legs and resting on her opening before sliding a finger in and grinning “sweetheart, you’re almost ready to push” I say, surprised. “N-no” she shakes her head but I chuckle “I’m here, I won’t leave your side” I say calmly. “You’re doing it, you’re bringing him into the world” I smile.

As she feels a contraction, I see her grip the handles of the bath ready to push and I rub her back gently. “You ready?” I ask and she nods before taking a deep breath and pushing her chin to her chest. She’s silent, completely silent, but focused and with every second that goes by, her face gets redder. I can tell she’s stopped pushing because she lets out an exhausted release of her breath. “Ngah.. I.. I can’t” she shakes her head and I reassure her “you can, you’re doing it”.

“N-no water” she shakes her head and I get up, slowly helping her out of the bath and back to the bedroom. Every step gets harder and as we get to the foot of the bed she stops “again” she mutters and I get down, letting her lean on my shoulders. Her legs shake as she gives a big, long push, letting her inhibitions go as she squeals at the end. “Good job baby, let’s get you comfortable” I say calmly as I lay her down.

“Okay, you’re doing well, we’re going to stay here and just work baby out together okay” I say softly as she opens her legs and I sit cross legged between them. “What if I can’t?” She asks and I give her a cheeky wink “if anyone can, it’s you”.

A few minutes go by and she looks up, her eyes begging for me to help as she grips the back of one leg. “Pull this back and push down for me” I say softly as I watch her begin to birth. She nods and grits her teeth as she bears down, her stomach tightening and her legs spreading further. “That’s it” I smile as the head slowly peaks, until she stops, spluttering and trying to get herself together.

I think it hits her here, because she starts to pant and breathe faster, trying to get rid of the pain. It doesn’t take long until she’s hard at work again, pulling both legs this time and scrunching her face up as she gets frustrated, pushing with all her might. “Why isn’t he coming?!” She cries out. “He’s coming, it’s just the staying that’s hard” I explain.

“Pillows” she says bluntly and I prop her up so that she’s almost sat with her legs opened up in front of her. She’s beautiful. She takes sips of water as she rubs her bump gently. “Ready to go again?” I ask and she nods, taking my hands and pulling as leverage. “Gaaah” she grunts before panting and going straight in again, trying everything she can to get the strength to push. “C-come out” she grunts through gritted teeth, pushing and pushing the hardest she can muster.

“Okay, we’ve got a bit of head” I smile “but I think we need to get some rope, you can pull on that” I say before getting a dressing gown tie and looping it around the headboard. “Here we go, pull, as hard as you need as you push” I say with a reassuring smile.

She holds on and waits until the next contraction before taking a deep breath and this time, letting it all out. It’s almost a growl more than a grunt, there are fluids pouring around the head as she edges our baby closer and closer, her lips going white with the stretching. “Keep that coming mamma” I coach. She takes a deep breath and screams as she pushes again, this time bringing herself to a full crown.

“Baby you’re doing it” I cry “you’re crowning” I mutter. She’s panting, wriggling in pain as she holds this giant head between her legs. “You see him?” She checks and I nod, bringing her hand down, letting her feel him as he enters the world.

She starts to get up and I know by her movements she’s getting on her hands and knees. “Easy” I remind her before she gets into position.

“Get ready” she mumbles into the pillow as I see her hand reaching up between her legs to keep contact with baby. The scream she lets into the pillow is so loud and I can feel the strength she’s pouring in but the head doesn’t budge. “Harder baby” I tell her and she cries “I can’t” she whispers. “Of course you can, try for me” I say with a little reassuring stroke of the leg.

She lets out a low, grunt that last forever and during that forever, the head pops out with what seems like litres of water. The panic and change in Blair’s breathing shows the effort she made and I just climb up to hold her into me. “You’ve done the hardest, baby, you’ve done the hardest bit” I say with excitement but equal amounts of compassion.

“Ready to meet him?” She asks me and I nod, watching her reach behind her legs and pull them back with a grunt like moan. “Work with mama” she mutters as she pushes. “Come on, puush baby” I whisper as I see movement. “Gaahhhh!” She cries out. “Baby, you.. you did it” I sob as I pick up our newborn, bringing him straight to her chest.

“You did it” I cry, just taking it all in as I nuzzle into them both. “I did.. but you’re doing it next time” she says with a laugh

[jammingjaem]

choose 5 moots! what do you think of when you see their usernames or when you talk to them? (i.e: the ocean, because—)

AAAAAAA WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE?? crying sobbing and squealing bc i got a lot to say?? i’m adding a song that also gives off the same vibes (imo):

@suzayaaa: the smell of a library. suza reminds me of the smell of a library because she feels both familiar and wise??, like the stories and knowledge stored in old books. i don’t know, to me, suza has a nostalgic aura that brings back memories of exploring shelves filled with adventure and learning. but at the same time, she also has a fresh energy that makes her vibrant and exciting, like the anticipation of discovering a new book. suza embodies the mix of old and new, just like the atmosphere of a library where tradition meets innovation? does that make any sense? so, when i think of suza, i’m like… reminded of the comforting scent of a library, full of experience and adventure. a song that gives me the same feeling is lovelovelove by yerin baek.

@polarisjisung: a getaway car. mei reminds me of a getaway car because she's comforting, like a safe escape when i feel out of place. her feed, profile, and pieces offer comfort, just like slipping into the driver’s seat of a getaway car. you would go to her profile and think that it’s like?? mysterious? but, mei is far from being enigmatic. instead, i think she radiates warmth and understanding. when i visit her profile, it's like going on to find peace and reassurance— not to be corny, but have you even read ‘bittersweet’ and ‘silent treatment’? get back to me on that one! anyway, mei’s presence is like a reliable escape route, always there when i need to find my way back to center?? a song that gives me the same vibe is disconnected by 5sos.

@lotties-readings: the beach. she definitely reminds me of the beach because her reactions and recommendations on my feed are refreshing and fun to see. i enjoy checking her profile to see what she recommends because she absolutely never misses. idk if it makes any sense? but it’s like soaking up the warmth and brightness at the beach whenever i come across her posts. i’ve never had a conversation with her, but lottie’s presence brings joy and energy, just like the feeling of an afternoon at the beach. a song that gives me a similar vibe is ocean by dept.

@00127am: falling in love for the first time. titi reminds me of falling in love for the first time because reading her works, especially ‘letters of my love’, gives me butterflies. an anon said that her writing is artistic and poetic (which i totally agree with). to be honest, it makes me squeal like a school girl with excitement. each word feels like a romantic dance, sweeping me off my feet. titi’s stories bring up feelings of passion and longing, just like experiencing love for the first time. with every word, i feel like i’m reminded of the enchanting magic of falling head over heels in love. a song that reminds me of that feeling is caught in your love by boys world.

@ghostofhyuck: a childhood friendship. cj reminds me of a childhood friendship because even though we may not be close, i feel comfortable around her as if we’ve known each other since childhood. it feels like being with her can allow you to joke around without feeling judged, creating a sense of ease and familiarity. the connection with cj brings back memories of carefree times and playful banter from childhood friendships. despite any distance or time apart, the bond with cj feels timeless and effortless, like picking up where you left off. with cj, it's like rediscovering the joy and comfort of childhood friendships all over again. a song that reminds me of that feeling is let’s get together by ateez.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

You don’t have to answer if this is too personal of a question!!! But i was wondering how you felt about pregnancy before you got pregnant??? I’m someone who is so deeply terrified of anything to do with pregnancy but I do want kids eventually. Like how have you been going about it??? Was it planned was it not planned , what are the changes like , how do you even prepare for it all im-. I’m very intrigued but also very scared

baby chat under the cut 🧡 happy to answer! honestly going into my twenties and then hurtling towards turning thirty, I really went back and forth a lot.

there was a lot of “do I actually want kids or is societal pressure gaslighting me into believing I do?” which, I found a lot of my friends at 29/30 agreed with. it’s hard babe! it’s a huge decision and shouldn’t be taken lightly and I can promise you right now, it’s absolutely okay and normal to be terrified, I am!

we realised that we wanted kids and at the age of 30, we were both in a comfortable position with our careers, our home, finances etc to do so. there’s never a perfect time to pop out a kid but we definitely felt more ready than we had a few years ago. so we planned it and it didn’t take as long as we thought, which was the biggest surprise haha.

there’s been a lot of adjusting, talking about the future, childcare, money, work, how we want to raise our baby, organising the house etc. but it’s also been amazing to think about our first christmas as a family of 3, first holiday etc.

it’s been a huge adjustment for me being pregnant, especially with a physical job but my partner is incredibly supportive and we’ve been doing hypnobirthing classes together which have really settled the major anxieties i’ve had about labour and birth - i’d recommend to anyone!

but long story short, I wanna say that everything you feel is so much more normal than you realise. it’s so, so understandable to be scared and anxious, but I can say the biggest reassurance i’ve been told throughout this pregnancy is “you were literally made for this” and that’s pretty fucking incredible, isn’t it?

[imclimbingthestairsoforthanc]

High Tide - Erestor x Reader (Prologue)

You are not as eager for some things as are others.

A/N: There is all of zero Erestor interaction in this chapter, but I'm sort of setting the scene for the story and character building. Stay on the look out for chapter one, and thank you for your patience :)

Taglist: @batsyforyou

Panic surges through your blood and adrenaline tilts your chin back, but you are not sure if it was to any avail. You gasp for air and struggle amongst the water, but you cannot keep fighting for long. Sooner or later, fatigue will take over and you will be forced to float until the water is so deep you have reached the limits of the sky and there is no air above the water for you to breathe and no room even to float. Then, the burning starts. You cry out for your mother, but she is already gone. You cannot see her through the thick waves. You try to find air, but you don’t know why. There is none to be found. There is that empty feeling in your chest that you get when you wake up from a bad dream and you feel like you have to remind yourself to breathe. Then, euphoria.

There is no sound, except for the chirping of the birds and the sound of your brother’s voice as you hear him tell your mother about the worm he found. You are not even one year old. You’re not sure what a worm is, but it sounds cool. The water is not as monstrous or as evil or as threatening. You do not have a care in the world. A knock sounds at your door. Your heartbeat hearkens to the sound of a rich voice.

“Are you awake?”

Just the usual sensations of your morning shower. 

“Yes, Glorfindel,” you reply, tying your robe and pinning your hair up quickly, “Give me a moment, for pity’s sake! You know we’ve got all of them we need.” 

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he says. You can hear his smirk, but given the gravity of what he said, you cannot tell if he is joking or not. 

“I’m ready,” you say, hopping out the door on one foot as you slip the other into your boot, “Which route are we taking today? East or North?”

Glorfindel takes a sharp right down the corridor, “First, the breakfast route.” 

“Y/N!” comes Elrohir’s voice as soon as you reach the dining hall, “I have another letter for you! It is a suitor from Lothlorien.”

“I hear there have been trolls coming far south–from the Ettenmoors even.” You leaned over Elrohir and snatched an apple, “I think we should take the North route today.”

“Agreed,” came Elladan’s voice. He began to speak again, but his brother cut him off.

“Will you not even read the letter?”

“Come on, Elrohir,” you replied, “We need to leave. The trolls are having us for lunch–having us over, I mean. You don’t want to be late!” 

Your horses had already been prepared by Elladan, who on any other morning would have been still in bed. Bathor stamped excitedly to greet you and reared his head once you were safely mounted. Asfoloth took the lead, as usual, until you were safely out of the house of Imladris. After that, each steed took to his own pace and direction, but none of you ever lost sight of the other. 

The ride to your destination was a long one, and after a day's worth of travel through thick forests and what felt like a neverending plain of land (even after Glorfindel assured you it was only a quick stretch of land), you decided to rest. It would do none of you any good to fight trolls half-asleep. It was a quick rest, no more than six hours, and before you knew it, you had reached the Last Bridge over the Hoarwell–or, what was supposed to be the last bridge. 

The air was quiet, but it was not a comfortable silence. The silence was filled with the whispers of evil, and the wind was no more than the hot breath of danger on the back of your neck. Above the trickling waterfalls and staggered stones, crumpled and ruined sat the once mighty stone bridge, forming a dam-like structure in the midst of the river. Glorfindel stared for a moment before running a hand through his golden hair and turning to the rest of you.

“It looks like we’ll have to find another way to cross,” he said as he dismounted. 

The rest of you did the same. 

“We could try to traverse over the ruins of the bridge,” suggested Elrohir, “If we send the horses home. There may yet be some good footholds.”

Glorfindel shook his head. “That’s too risky. We may lose our footing. We should swim across.” 

His words carried a weight that he had forgotten to account for. 

“We could travel west,” you said, “There is a bridge at the mouth of the Swanfleet we could cross over. That is a safe pass.”

“That is nearly two-hundred miles,” said Elladan, “It would take another three days for us to get there. We do not have the supplies.”

“East, then. We can go around by the falls.”

“But the terrain there is dangerous, I hear,” remarked Elrohir, “Even more so than crossing the ruins. Besides, it would take a force greater than the four of us to combat the evil that lurks in the coldfells.” 

“Are you sure it would be too dangerous to cross at the ruins? We are elves, after all. I am sure footed. I can cross first, and then I will tell you it is safe.”

Safe–what a word–carrying one meaning with many tails. Safe can be anywhere–in the comfort of your home or on the road with a troll-camp up ahead of you, if you are so lucky in your companions to have a mighty warrior, such as Glorfindel, at your side. But the truth is few care for safety; it is security that even the mightiest of elven lords chase like a babe after his mother. Security is the silence in the midst of war that closes the soldier's eyes and draws his lips into a smile as he breathes his last breath. Security is what the crying girl chases as she reaches for the surface of the water, but even as she finds a foothold on her mothers dresser and breathes the free air, she finds that it is not security that will keep the water from rising to the ceiling and drowning her all the same. 

“You can come next time,” Glorfindel said, grabbing onto your fidgety hands and staying them from twisting the ring around your finger, “When there is a safe way to cross. Besides, even if you’d make it, I’ll not have you fighting mountain trolls distressed at the prospect of…”

He trailed off. You said it for him. 

How dare he call you out on your insecurity.

“I’m not afraid.” 

Glorfindel looked you up and down like he didn’t believe you, but he nodded nonetheless. 

Elladan and Elrohir waded into the shallows of the water. Glorfindel followed suit. Your eyes darted between the pretty blue of his eyes gazing back at you and the same sapphire blue of the menace that lapped at your feet. The other three awaited your response as the water came up around your thighs–probably the deepest you had been in a long time–and they flinched with you when a clear mist splashed your face.

You looked down to your hips where the surface of the water teased you. It would have been up to your bed frame. The roaring waterfall you heard off in the distance was not the neglected running kitchen faucet in your nightmarish-memories, but you couldn’t tell the difference, and they were equally as menacing. Another mist wetted your forehead.

You paled. Nausea welled up in your gut as your heart raced and you legs raced to carry you to the dry and your mind raced with a panic that you’d hoped you’d forgotten and your six year old arms raced to pull you above the water.

How foolish of you to think it could have been.

[lumiereandcogsworth]

oooooooo wait that bit about the curse skewing time and how it was only 5 days 👀 I’d love to hear about that

OKAY. LET’S DO THIS.

so, my theory is that the curse does in fact skew time. in the movie, gaston says “maurice! i’ve spent the last five days trying to find you!” and this is the same night that the curse will be broken. implying that it’s been Only Five Days since gaston left maurice to the wolves in the forest. this, in turns, implies that it’s only been five days since adam and belle met. and while i am happy to play the Disney Soulmates card, and maybe it was five days, i have some ideas as to why it maybe felt longer than that.

firstly, and for some inexplicable reason this needs to be readdressed every now and then, let’s discuss how long the curse has been happening. in batb 1991, lumiere says it’s been ten years in his song be our guest. this, along with the ‘91 narration saying the last petal would fall on adam’s 21st birthday, has unfortunately led to far too many people thinking that adam was cursed as an 11 year old child. this just isn’t true! not only is it positively insane to think that an enchantress would punish a child that way, you really need not look further than our beloved boy chip.

regardless of how old you think he is, i would bet that majority of us agree he’s younger than 10. the batb 2017 script says that he’s 8, which sounds about right. but regardless, he’s very most likely younger than 10. now, if you truly think the curse is Ten Real Years Long, i want you to look me in the eye and try to convince me that a teapot gave birth to a teacup. CLEARLY, chip was not born a teacup. chip longs to be a real boy again. i don’t recall if he says anything specifically in batb 1991, but in batb 2017 he asks his mother if he’ll ever be a boy again! he knows what it is to be a real boy! implying he was cursed, and is trapped, as a child; completely destroying the idea that the curse is legitimately ten years long. much more plausibly, lumiere was singing hyperbolically, because he’s a very dramatic man!

now, i’m not going to make this a competitive thing, but batb 2017 DOES do a lot to fix this problem up. number one, the beginning narration gives no indication to adam’s age, or when the rose petals will finish falling. number two, the prologue actually shows chip sneaking into adam’s ball amidst the chaos, highlighting both that he WAS the same boy that you see at the end, and that he was in the room when the enchantress put her curse on everyone. and number three, lumiere’s line in be our guest changes from “ten years” to “too long” - further confirming my theory that he’s just lamenting the agony of their experience. he may not truly know the length of time it’s been, just that it has been too long for anyone’s comfort.

so now that we’ve gathered that time is already a bit funky, let’s look at this curse. the enchantress is one powerful lady. i personally think she’s some kind of trickster goddess of justice or something, who just goes around the world teaching awful, cruel people in power lessons. regardless of who or what agathe is, she is incredibly powerful. the beginning narration states:

“The prince begged for forgiveness, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there.”

she placed a powerful spell on the CASTLE ! as well as adam and the servants! i think that’s so significant. and it’s very clear that she DID curse the castle! it’s trapped in a perpetual winter, despite the fact that it’s june for the rest of the country. not only that, but you can see the way the curse affects the castle. every time a petal falls, the castle rumbles and parts of the structure crumble and break. the place is slowly deteriorating, the curse is eating it alive. given what we know about their perception of time, and that the castle was individually cursed, it doesn’t seem too much of a stretch to think that the castle is not only frozen in terms of weather, but frozen in time as well.

looking at this next part of the narration:

“As days bled into years, the prince and his servants were forgotten by the world, for the enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved… …As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?”

she’s so powerful she genuinely affected the entire world. or at least, all of europe. like, nobody is asking or wondering about the french prince?? no one is stopping by?? no one is sending letters?? nope! their minds have literally been erased. not a soul in france is wondering what their monarchy is up to. adam has been entirely forgotten. i also think it’s important to note the usage of the word “years” which she says twice. sure, you could argue that it is real years! because it says so! but honestly i think she’s speaking from the perspective of the cursed individuals, particularly adam. in both instances, adam’s experience is stated immediately after she says “years” — first, being forgotten, second, falling into despair. i would argue, then, that to adam (and the servants) it had simply FELT like years. not real years that the rest of the world would experience, but a terrible weight on their shoulders, a hopeless longing for rescue from this awful state, dragging on seemingly endlessly, too long, feeling like years.

my conclusion: i believe that the castle time and real time are not the same. based on everything i’ve laid out, it seems as though the castle is very especially cursed, and while it has felt like years (i honestly don’t think it’s felt like more than three or four. i feel like if you go any further you have to start accounting for mental age, particularly chip. but i may be getting too deep about it.) in reality, it may have only been a matter of months. what if that awful storm that led the enchantress to come “seek shelter” happened in january or february, and now it’s june. perhaps it’s been around six months in real time. but to the castle’s inhabitants? it’s felt like years. so then, if we can use this theory for a moment, perhaps belle’s “five days” at the castle felt a lot more like a handful of weeks, maybe even a month or two.

i also think this because the sort of rapport that adam and belle have just seems like they’ve known each other longer than five days. and don’t get me wrong, sometimes people have those instant connections. like i said, im happy to play the Disney Soulmates card. but humor me for a minute! they have their little inside jokes about romance novels and belle teases him in such a way that just exudes the comfortability between friends, not new acquaintances. not only this, but when they’re in paris, adam simply asks “what happened to your mother?” when belle explains where they are. this, to me, implies that he already knew her mother died when she was a baby. and, personally, i don’t think that’s something i’d mention to someone i’d only known less than a week. but it seems like she’s already had That conversation with him, and further, it seems he’s comfortable about the topic, and feels close enough with her to ask about it further! to me, the way their relationship is depicted, it seems as though they’ve really developed a friendship over more than a bit of time, and have definitely very naturally fallen in love within said friendship.

anything is possible, and this is all my own little speculations and ideas. whether it really was five days or perhaps more, it’s quite clear that their love is something quite spectacular.

[breaniebree]

SNEAK PEEK! Chapter 22 - The One with Rampara

When they arrived in the dungeons, Slughorn beamed at them.  “Ah, my favourite Aurors!  Come in, come in!”

Higgins closed the door of the potions room behind him and nodded at Borage.  Libatious Borage and his wife, Lara, had rented a small cottage in Hogsmeade while they were staying to work with Slughorn.  Borage and Slughorn had both agreed that rediscovering such an important potion meant that they had a lot of work to do and were writing a paper together on both how the potion worked and its historical use, as well as using it in a modern way.  Borage had no plans of returning to Brazil until everything was wrapped up and Harry was grateful for the old man’s help.

“Good afternoon, Mr Borage, Professor,” Harry said.

“Ah, Horace is fine, Harry!  I’m no longer a professor after all.  I’m retired!”  Slughorn exclaimed.

Harry only pursed his lips.  He wasn’t quite sure he would be comfortable calling the man, Horace.  “How are you two coming along with the potion?”

Borage rolled his shoulders back.  “It has been a real challenge.  I regret having to ask you for an audience with Fleamont, but rather unfortunately it turned out to be useful.”

Harry bit back a chuckle.  Borage had sent him an owl asking if he could stop by to speak to his grandfather’s portrait, surprising Harry as he knew that the two men held a continued animosity towards each other.  Borage and Fleamont had originally met over seventy years ago when his grandfather had invented Sleekeazy’s hair potion.  A few months later, Borage published a book called “Have Yourself a Fiesta in a Bottle” which boasted its own haircare potion recipe.  The potion wasn’t even remotely the same, but it started off a lifelong feud of friendship and animosity between the two men.  They exchanged letters arguing over everything and almost never agreed on anything.  Lara and Euphemia however did become close friends and often mocked their husbands both behind their backs and to their faces.  Whenever Borage would publish a new book, Fleamont Potter would immediately read it cover to cover and then edit it, intentionally pointing out mistakes and different ways to brew potions and send it back to Borage.

Borage was well into his nineties now and still as sharp as ever.  Harry knew that calling him in to help Slughorn with this had been the best decision he could have made.  When he’d brought Borage and Slughorn over to Clevedon Court the other night to speak with Fleamont’s portrait, the two old men had been as amusing as ever.

“Hey, Pop,” Harry said, waking up the portrait hanging on the wall.  “I brought some guests over who would like to speak with you about this potion that they’re working on.”

“Guests?”  Fleamont demanded, his eyes wide.  “I’m always willing to talk to guests about potions.  As long as it’s not that damned — bloody hell!”

Borage smirked.  “Good evening, Monty.”

“Lib.”

Slughorn chuckled.  “Well, I for one am absolutely tickled, Mr Potter.  Big fan of your work.”

“He’s a two-bit hack,” Borage spat. 

Slughorn frowned.  “Well, that’s not true at all, Libatious!  After all, we’re coming to see him for advice.”

“Ha!”  Fleamont exclaimed.  “You need advice from a real Potioneer, do you?  What did I tell you, Fee?  Not as good as me, is he?”

Borage rolled his eyes.  “Well, since you’re so good, Monty, perhaps you can help us with this.  Horace and I have been working on a potion that’s come up in one of Harry’s cases as an Auror.  It’s the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion that was lost centuries ago.”

Fleamont’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Blimey!  Are you sure?”

“Oh, quite sure, Mr Potter!”  Slughorn said eagerly.  “We brewed it ourselves and did every test possible to confirm it.”

Fleamont looked pensive.  “What’s the concern then?”

“The time process,” Borage said.  “Now that we’ve worked on the woman who was given the potion, we estimated roughly three months before the potion would officially wear off.”

Slughorn and Borage took turns to explain the potion to Fleamont from ingredients, down to brewing options, down to the steps they took to reach their conclusions.  Harry got lost somewhere among the different variations of fish scales and freshness before he tuned in again when his grandfather spoke.

“Sounds to me like everything is right, Lib.  But you’re forgetting one thing.  If you really did all of that and got her heart beating once more, it’s not the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion that’s the problem.  You need to break down the resurrection potion in more detail and compare it to the makings of the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion and see how it all interconnects.  There could be side effects or things that clash between them.  When you add in the use of runes, well… blood sacrifice is a tricky thing when it’s used in magic.”

“How so?”  Harry asked, making Fleamont turn his attention onto him.

“Runes used in dark magic are different from regular runes and if they were built into an existing resurrection potion where a blood sacrifice was used and added to the use of the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion… it’s not so much the potions themselves that will be the problem as much as the blood sacrifice.”

Harry frowned.  “What does that mean exactly?”

Borage ran a hand over his wrinkled face.  “It means that we might have to start looking at potions connected to a blood ritual… there could be more we don’t understand there.”

“Wait, are you saying that there could be a potion that could help counter the sacrifice aspect of Zee’s condition?”  Harry asked.

Fleamont shook his head.  “Perhaps something that could help, but counter it… I wouldn’t bet on it, no.”

Slughorn, Borage, and Fleamont began to discuss the potions in more detail again.  They spoke for more than hour, half of which involved Borage and Fleamont arguing as Slughorn watched in amazement.  When Harry said goodnight to them he wasn’t sure the visit had really done much to help.  Getting an owl from them the next day asking for a visit was definitely a hopeful sign.

“So, what do you have to share with us?”  Higgins asked, bringing Harry out of his memory of the evening before.

[reyesstrand]

weekend wip game

thanks for the tag @welcometololaland (and thanks for thinking up this game lola!) @alrightbuckaroo @strandnreyes @theghostofashton <333

rules: list your wips below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future wips/ideas!) then answer the following questions. then, tag as many people as you have wips (or more).

1. wip list:

active wips: food fic

future wips: pottery au; aftermath of the solving of gabriel’s murder

2. which of your wips is currently the longest?

food fic, mainly because it’s all i’m working on ajdnskdn

3. which wip do you expect will end up the longest?

food fic will span from 1x05 to tarlos’ honeymoon, so likely this one

4. which wip is your favourite/the most enjoyable to write? why?

when it isn’t giving me a headache, definitely food fic. i love getting to look back at canon and extrapolate on moments we’ve seen (and include scenes we didn’t) focused on the idea of food as a love language. however the pottery au probably has the most little random snippets i’ve deposited into my notes app that bring some serious joy

5. which wip do you find the most intimidating to write? why?

pottery au, simply because full-on alternate universe fics are kind of out of my wheelhouse, even though i love reading them

6. which wip do you experience the most self-doubt about? why?

probably the gabriel murder aftermath fic, because i have a very clear idea of the sort of tone i want to develop through the story and worry about perfecting it

7. which of your wips will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? why?

food fic will have a beta (if they still want to even though they offered truly six months ago 😭😭😭😭😭😭) and i’m grateful because this i’m pretty sure the fic will be 20k+ and having a pair of skilled eyes look it over will be so helpful.

8. have any of your wips been struck by the curse of writer’s block?

…….have i mentioned i started food fic six months ago 🧍‍♂️

9. which wip has your favourite oc? tell us about them?

i’m very boring and unfortunately don’t have any at the moment!! hopefully some will come to fruition with pottery au once i actually try tackling it

10. which wip is the sexiest?

food fic, because cooking is sexy and tk and carlos agree and also because it has the only real “explicit” sex i’ve written. HOWEVER….i would be amiss not to mention pottery au, where the moodboard centred around this photo:

11. which wip is the angstiest?

probably will be the gabriel murder aftermath fic….shes gonna be moody!!! but also food fic has a lot of the boys and their unhealthy coping mechanisms. so both?

12. which wip has the best characterization (in your humble opinion)?

i’m going to say food fic only because i’m writing from a place of knowing the entirety of canon so far, and can use that to go back and write them as their baby season one selves. also, since it’s fairly introspective for both of them, i think this is my clear answer

13. which wip has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

i’m….going to say all three, in their varying states of completion. it’s something i feel most comfortable with as a writer and i think it’s something i tap into easily, and i think each has examples of this

14. which wip have you worked the hardest on?

food fic. it’s kind of become my baby

15. which wip do you have the highest expectations for? why?

….food fic, only because i’ve been working on it for so long and it’ll be the first thing i post since may. so. i feel a lot of pressure to make it “right”

16. do you dream about any of your wips?

only if i’ve been writing/plotting right before bed

17. do any of your wips have particular complexities that your other fics don’t?

hm….i guess food fic only since it’s truly following the whole development of a relationship, and trying to capture where they’d be emotionally at a certain moment in the grand scheme of things is complex. pottery au also fits here, though, since i know it’ll need some planning that i don’t always think about, since i tend to write canon compliant as opposed to au fics

18. which wip is the funniest or has the most humour?

i don’t think i’m very good at humour 😭😭😭 but i think most light-hearted, maybe, would be pottery au? food fic has some bright spots too, though

19. do any of your wips contain outside povs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? how are you finding that process?

ooh okay, so there’s at least one instance of this in food fic where we see owen observing the boys, and it’s something i love tapping into because thinking about owen with his boys always makes me 🥺🥺🥺 like he’s just so happy for them and sees their love for what it is and i enjoy whenever i can explore that, even if only for a few paragraphs. i think gabriel aftermath will explore more of gabriel/his relationship with carlos in SOME capacity, though i truly haven’t even explored it yet. it makes me excited though!! introspection is my favourite <3

20. tell us one thing we don’t know about one or more of your wips.

hmmmmmm i’d say that food fic was originally a 5+1, then a 7+1, but i couldn’t figure out what the “+1” would be/how i would phrase it, and i decided i liked connected vignettes following the trajectory of their relationship better. also that seeing a singular photo of ceramics on pinterest inspired the pottery au….tarlos brainrot will always take over at the most random times!

((sorry for not following the rules here)) i’m no pressure tagging @carlos-in-glasses @birdclowns @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @heartstringsduet @rmd-writes @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-tk @redshirt2 @tailoredshirt @beautifulhigh and open tagging whoever would like to play <333

[xjoonchildx]

hello miss ana!

so idk if you remember me, but i was the anon who sent you that ask about her roommate. the one that told you about her roommate picking her up at the airport?

well… we’re getting married and i’m pregnant with our first baby ☺️🥰

a lot has happened since that night he picked me up! but to keep the story short: the next morning he knocked on my bedroom door and there was a lot of tears (on my part 😂) involved but we essentially just laid everything out on the table. turns out he’d been in love with me for a year and a half but i had just had a nasty breakup at the time he’d started falling for me so he just didn’t do anything about it, and plus he didn’t want to be a rebound. but it all worked out in the end because i started falling in love with him too. also, isn’t it funny that the mutual friend who introduced us to each other 3 and a half years ago told him offhandedly that he was going to ‘love me’ and look where we are now 😂

so… yeah. then you know what happens after that ☺️

i saw the Hug™ anon hashtag too and i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who was rooting for us! but i decided not to respond because things were still new between me and him a few months back so i apologize for that… but now that i’m engaged to him and i just found out i’m pregnant with our first baby (that we both might or might not have let happen), i decided to share this with you all ☺️ he proposed a week before we found out i was pregnant, so please don’t worry about him proposing to me out of obligation! we have been making plans for our future, and we’ve started looking at houses around the school district area because we plan to move out of our shared apartment when our baby is a bit older. we had a brief moment where we wondered if we were moving too fast (and it caused our first big couple fight and more tears on my part 😂), but our families and friends were like, “you guys are stupid” because apparently we were so obvious to everyone but ourselves before we even got together. it was a bit embarrassing tbh… but yeah. this feels right for us. we’ve been living together for more than 3 years now, i know what he’s like inside and out and vice versa.

i wish i could invite you all to our wedding (which will not be for another 3-4 years at least). maybe we will get married when bts come back as a group again after their enlistment, but for now my fiancé and i have agreed to not put me through unnecessary stress because the next few years will be tough on us with the baby and moving out. when we’re truly settled in our new house and our baby is a bit older, we can focus on planning a wedding!

again, thank you so much everyone for the support. i’m just a faceless stranger after all 🥹 you were all so kind 😭

am i ... am i crying? yes. yes, i am.

my GOD the Hug™ anon i cannot put into words how incredibly fucking satisfying this was to read. top to bottom, 5/5 stars, no notes. just the giddiest, happiest ride i've been on in a long time.

let's talk about all the romance tropes you've hit on the pinball board of life, shall we?

roommates to lovers

mutual pining

teary confession

hurt/comfort

happily ever after

and the BABY? swear to god the noise i just made at this starbucks made people look at me. i think it was a scream that mutated into a squeal?

live your absolute best life, the Hug™ anon. you are with the man of your dreams, moving towards your future, ready to be a mom, thinking about a new place, just -- so? many? exciting things?

and even though i can't come to your wedding, please allow me to do what i do and suggest two wedding day scents. one is exorbitant and the other more affordable.

for the regular budget: philosophy fresh cream warm cashmere

for the HOT DAMN budget: dama bianca by xerjoff

 💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕 

[winstonhenderson]

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟒.

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓮 𝓘𝓼 𝓢𝓮𝓽!

𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎

John’s Letters To Aunt Mimi

Dear Mimi,

We are in the bougie part of London, and we had such a lovely sunny March day (which is a lovely yet rare occurrence during springtime!) and we are making a motion picture. Can you believe it?! Yeah, I can’t either.

It’s fab as now people say because of us four! Gosh, I am so proud of them and me of course! Can’t forget about me!

Today was a long long day for shooting. We ultimately got nothing done… It was just a long train scene. We were all nervous. Imagine, even I, who is used to acting, got nervous. It’s a hard task to pull off a role taking upon another role. But it was fun. We had a great dinner afterwards. Georgie met this girl, and I think they will get together. You may very well have already seen the gal in a mag, Pattie Boyd, the model. She is cute, but not as beautiful as Twiggy or Doris Day or Grace Kelly. After the dinner I was a bit sad we didn’t get stuff done, but “my little friend” told me we will do better tomorrow, though I knew he was even more unsure than me. I told him “Paul if we fuck up, it’s fine, we still have each other.” Great words that. He lit up. And yeah, now I’m writing to ya… Aunt Mimi, I promise I’ll make ya proud, and make this film amazing!

Love ya lots,

John 

Dear Mimi,

we’ve finally filmed the train scene. I got comfortable with the camera and was acting like never before. Even more macho, even more humorous, even more witty. Wish you could’ve seen me, oh YEAH ya will! They say that if we continue at this pace the movie will be released in early July! I can’t wait for you to see all of our lines and our playing and so much stuff! 

To answer your questions. My boys and I are doing great and we are safe. They are not making us do stuff against our own will. We have a contract that prohibits tampering, at least that’s what Brian says. For the stores, I’ll promise I’ll go and check out some when I get the chance. I know how much you like it when I get new clothes and accessories… You just want me to enjoy things now and to spend the money I earn on fun things… Oh, Auntie. And to solve the next problem, I will take Paul with me. He has an eye for what fits me… He is my partner. I will take care of meself, I don’t always need the others or Paulie who you like to single out. Wish you could see how great the flats are!

Love ya lots,

John 

Dear Mimi,

we got a free day! So I decided to go shopping like you told me! I found some great clothes and shoes and I can't wait for you to see ‘em. One of the clothes is a yellow checkered puffy dress with a rose emblem on it, then there is a cute red dress and the combination of a white shirt with black dots and a pencil skirt. I got red pumps and black heels too! That’s done. Paul helped me choose them, he is so stylish… He and the lads greeted you!

I’m glad you are doing well, I cannot believe I forgot to ask you! John’s doing!  I’m so happy you have gone back to your hobby. I miss your hats. Can’t wait to get a new one. How are the other ladies? I hope you are talking to them, don’t get too lonely without me. Did you visit Mum? I hope you brought flowers for me too… It’s so unfair to both of us. I promise, when I come back I’ll keep ya company. I promise and you have this letter as proof I promised. I promise you as me, not my facade.

Love you,

your niece John

Dear Mimi,

everything is so bad. We are done “filming” all the scenes. Yay, I thought. But… Some scenes need to be redone. We have to “redub” some of our live singing. Why? I like it live! I love the studio but it is so stupid to dub live recordings… God, I am so frustrated. Brian and Paul don’t agree with George and me. Everyone thinks Brian is always right, well maybe he is, but this is a musical sin! They wanted to use our album recordings for it. The microphones were so bad they didn’t catch the “nuance of the Beatles playing”. What the hell are they talking about? We just strum. Still, I’m happy with the result we have currently though I am in a fight with Paul because of the stupid dubbing. Paul is so staunch on keeping his opinion, so stubborn! Well, John Winston Lennon is more stubborn than him!  I’ll show him… 

I am very glad the ladies are fine. You think of everything when you do something, Mimi. You even brought my favourite flower to bring her… You really are the greatest aunt. At these scumbags you would for sure scoff. They are so mean sometimes. And they smell bad. Money grubbing idiots. Not fit for a lady like you and Jules, but fit for me… Maybe I am filthy like them, John collects their filth… Julia remains clean. I wonder how clean can a person here be?

Love ya lots, 

John

Dear Mimi,

I’m barely able to write this letter, my rock and roll finger is hurting! Jokes aside, I listened to your solution for my fight with Paul, much to my dismay. Before that I was always on edge to beat him up and to pout at Brian. I formulated to him that what I meant was for us four to ask the film director to film all the scenes with us playing again with more cameras and better sound proofing so that the music would be live and prove to Brian that me and Geo were right. He was intrigued to say the least and gave in, after me bothering him more and more. We went to the film director and as it turns out, he doesn’t have the budget! The goddamn Beatles motion picture doesn’t have the budget! I was fuming! Paul looked like he was expecting such a response. He got on my nerves again. Though, I won’t forget he supported me then, when I argued with the film director about the footage. “No, we don’t have enough film for that.” or “Sound proofing for our sets is quite expensive, and besides that clunky.” would be heard a dozen times. Then I would say, “But isn’t a studio supposed to be acoustic?”, and he would say, “But this is a movie, mister Lennon.”. That’s a new level of dumb. So I had my little revenge. I wouldn’t want our band to waste away, so I told them that we will play everything all over again to make a unique dub for the movie as a fuck you. Weirdly enough, Brian supported me. Even if the film director felt that that was unnecessary, how could you say no to the stars of the film who could pull out any moment? That is the reason my hand has cramps. Paul is annoyed with me because of this choice but he can’t say he didn’t enjoy making a different version. I plan, during the editing phase of the movie, for us four to go explore the place some more and relax. I owe them that much for putting them up to more work.

Lots of love,

John

Dear Mimi,

London is such a big place. Me and the lads went through the entire Hyde Park. I can’t believe I didn’t take the time to explore the city before this. The nature in the parks is wonderful and diverse. The architecture is beautiful and elegant. The Rose Garden in Hyde Park is my favourite place, maybe Paul and I could write some songs there. It’s quiet and romantic, perfect for a working atmosphere. Maybe I get too caught up in music making. Exactly why I don’t explore as much as I did before. I would love to do this with Cyn someday. Maybe Paul and I should take Julian out to play... You asked if I knew how Cyn and Jules were, and I write to tell you they are fine. Cynthia is taking up some art courses and teaching Julian how to count, he is so smart! He knows how to count to five already. Of course he is my kid. He is a bundle of sunshine, really brightens up Cyn’s day, she won’t shut up about him in her letters (and who can blame her, he is very cute and funny). I envy her sometimes, she doesn’t let art consume her so much. But what is an artist if not a complicated person with layers and addictions towards their work? 

You made a hat for me! You spoiled the surprise. You know I love them! Well, I’ll try and forget it. Still, I wanted to ask if there is anything else that you wanted me to bring home? If not for you then for others? Wait, I am not falling into that hole. Gifts for others, not their requests, they are not my aunt. 

Lots of love,

John

Dear Mary,

I don’t know how to feel about your last letter. I am making a difference out here and you still bother me about that small thing! Also, you really think I’m doing this for money? No. I’m doing this because there is no other way… Even if there is, that “sham” you are talking about is giving me a way to distance myself from my feelings and write something quite logical. Even though I think we are still subpar and I tell my band that all the time, I think we are on the right track to improve ourselves. The person you call “shameful” and “selfish” has helped create great bands and improved the lives of the other members. It hurts me you think that way about me and my ideas. You don’t even want me to bring stuff if I don’t let go of my ideas. Silly Mary. I’m not seventeen anymore. I am my own man person and I decide if I will or will not do. But your angry response has led me to question what I did, so thank you very much Mary. Do you wonder if I had waited just a little bit and enrolled somewhere else I could’ve been able to achieve the same thing without my idea? If I had… I dunno, enrolled into art school like Cyn and found some friends there? More similar to me… Well, like Paul but you know how. But, I don’t think it would’ve had the same impact as the Beatles. First it was all about fun, and it still is fun, but I would’ve had fun that way too. But now. Now, it’s about impact too. The movie is edited and ready to go. With it, we have reached the big screen. The influence is a burden but we could use it! We could do something with it! I could help people, Mary! All four of us can! We could be the mirror of the society, we could embody the opinion of our demographic! And we already do! We are the demographic! Maybe I sound powerhungry, but I think we don’t need to educate people, we need to make more people aware about the faults and struggles of society! Maybe I am on a high horse but you can’t deny the facts I have brought up. The Beatles CAN change something. They CAN do it. Just believe in me, Mary. Please, Mimi.

Love ya lots,

John

Jules

Julia

Yours truly,

J. V. L.

Rest of Sacrifame

[mandana-the-service-pup]

We made it :)

I was definitely asking a lot from Mandana with this spontaneous trip but she rose to the challenge and handled it with grace. She had her first bus ride. Her first plane ride. Her first long distance road trip and her first night away from home. I’m not sure she could have done it a year ago but she was ready and she was brilliant.

The bus ride was honestly the hardest part, but that wasn’t her fault. The driver was a bit zealous and it was the worst bus ride I’ve ever had. The handicap area was practically nonexistent so she had to sit in the middle of the isle. I had my arms wrapped around her while Hubbins held on to me to keep us all from falling every 5 seconds. She whined a little bit but not much and as soon as we stepped off the bus she was back to her happy self. As you can see in the video we took outside the airport. I’m not asking for a strict heel. I’m just letting her get comfortable before going in because I know we would be there for a while.

We were at the airport for about two hours. She was very attentive and made some great alerts including this 144 bpm while I was sitting down. I was able to recline for a bit to get my heart rate down before boarding and I’m really grateful for that.

We drew the SD short straw unfortunately. There was an older woman and her husband who had a little black dog. I never heard them claim she was a service dog. On the contrary, they were very open about her “attitude” and “growling” with us and the other passengers but instead of having the pet in a crate they went the service dog route which gave them priority. The woman was more aggressive than the dog tbh and was very loud about her needs to board first bc they’re disabled and her dog “has an attitude”. For some reason she acted surprised to find out I was also disabled and that Mandana is a legitimate service dog (she wasn’t blind so idk how she missed the SD gear) I probably could have asked to have them kicked off the flight before we boarded but I was having a medical episode and was more concerned about keeping the peace for Hubbins and Mandana. The airport personnel were very aware of the situation and did an amazing job observing both dogs behavior. They hovered over both of us for an hour and even introduced us to the flight crew as “the real service dog and the other thing” but the woman was very good about blocking her dog from us so no behaviors that would have prevented her flying were observed.

We were under the impression that there were two bulkhead areas. One in the front and one towards the back so we agreed to take the back one but the airport personnel were misinformed. The bulkheads were right next to each other. There wasn’t another area in the back but I wasn’t about to spend two hours next to this agitated woman. It was a tight squeeze but we’ve spent years preparing for this exact situation so I knew Mandana could handle it. The flight attendant understood our predicament and was very accommodating. We all agreed that Hubbins and I would get a row to ourselves. If there were too many people for that then we would move up to the front and the woman could deal with it or be kicked off. Mandana was a bit sketched out about the take off (I think she would have been fine if she had more space) but she was able to get through it with little to no whining and then settled down and slept for the two hour flight. She watched out the window for our landing without issue and then it was over. The pictures look spacious but when standing she is the length of two seats and takes up the entire area.

I knew the flight was asking a lot but we decided to do it anyways because we are actually picking up a second car and driving it back home. Our car is going to have to go into the shop for a bit and Mandana outgrew her Ruffland Kennel so we flew in to visit family, snag an XL Ruffland and take back a gifted car. Our circumstances have changed drastically over the last couple months and we became housebound despite my improving health. Now we’re able to go out on adventures again. It is such a privilege. My heart breaks for my fellow spoonies who are struggling with resources without this kind of aid and I couldn’t be more grateful to everyone involved.

Family picked us up and we had another two hours to get to our hometown. Mandana was very grateful for the mattress and pillows and promptly fell asleep. We decided to stay in an Airbnb instead of with family. It’s Mandanas first overnight trip and I wanted to make sure we were all well rested for the 9 hour drive home. We will visit with family for a day and then drive half way back on Friday, stop for a night and arrive home on Saturday so Hubbins has time to recover before going back to work on Monday.

I’m so proud of Mandana. We’ve had a lot holding us back over the past year. We never achieved the training sessions we wanted to that would have prepared us for this kind of travel. Even so she was able to take every thing in stride. Our success was half foundational skills and half trust in our relationship (and a sprinkle of the morbid curiosity that fuels her love for adventure despite uncertainty lol)

[tsuki-chibi]

Ladynoir July 2023 Day 22: Entangled

Read all the entries on AO3

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“This is the best day of my life. Nothing will ever top this.”

Looking somewhat offended, Chat Vert folded his arms over his chest. “I’m beginning to think this is a bad idea,” he muttered. “Our wedding day isn’t even going to compare to this moment.”

“Yeah, I’d say you’ve effectively screwed yourself, my dude. Sorry.” Turtle Noir patted him consolingly on the shoulder. “On the plus side, you can tell your kids someday that their birth didn’t even measure up to this moment. Start up a complex nice and early.”

Chat Vert groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “That is not comforting.”

“Seriously… doesn’t this just fit me perfectly?” A smile stretching from ear to ear, Coccinelle spun around to face them with her hands spread wide. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement, and she was practically bouncing on her heels, like she was so happy that she couldn’t stand still.

“You look amazing, Babe,” Chat Vert said, apparently giving in.

“Not as good as My Lady, but great,” Turtle Noir said.

“You’re just biased,” Coccinelle said to him.

“Well duh,” Turtle Noir said, shrugging. He turned towards the last member of their group, who had also been looking at herself in the mirror – though with considerably less enthusiasm than Coccinelle, and more wonderment for what she looked transformed with the Fox miraculous.

This whole thing had been Alya’s idea. Turtle Noir suspected she’d been thinking about it for a long time, but just hadn’t been sure how to bring it up in a casual way. Finally, she’d just blurted it out during their last patrol. It had taken a little time for Marinette to get on board, but at last she’d agreed. And that’s why, on this sunny Saturday morning, Adrien and Nino had swapped miraculous, and so had Marinette and Alya.

“What do you think?” Coccinelle asked, somewhat nervously.

Lady Fox smiled. “I think you look wonderful,” she said sincerely. “You’re right. It does fit you perfectly.”

Coccinelle let out a squeal at a volume that had both Turtle Noir and Chat Vert wincing. She bounded across the room and threw her arms around Lady Fox in a bone-breaking hug. Lady Fox squeaked in alarm as she lost the ability to breathe.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Coccinelle shouted. “Okay, I gotta try out this yoyo!”

“Wait,” Lady Fox wheezed, but Coccinelle was already up the steps to Marinette’s bed and hauling herself outside. Chat Vert went after her.

“Are you okay?” Turtle Noir asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Lady Fox said, taking a deep breath. “Whew. Alya’s really enthusiastic.” She gently rubbed her midsection.

“I think it’s cute that she idolizes Ladybug so much,” Turtle Noir said, smiling. “Now come on. We only have a few minutes to test these babies out. I wanna see what the Turtle miraculous is made of!”

“Me too,” Lady Fox admitted. “Let’s go!”

They clambered up onto Marinette’s balcony only to find that Coccinelle and Chat Vert were gone. They exchanged a look and then shrugged, figuring they would catch up with their teammates shortly. In the meantime, they wanted to do some experimenting of their own.

And in the end, they did run into their teammates…

“Oh my god,” Turtle Noir said before cracking up.

“Shut up and help us!” Coccinelle hissed. “We’ve been this way for fifteen minutes.”

“This takes me back,” Lady Fox said, making an effort not to laugh. Somehow, Coccinelle and Chat Vert had become completely entangled within the string of the yoyo. They were at least on the ground, which she thought was a step up from when it had happened to her and Chat Noir, but there was no way they were getting free without help.

“Some things never changed,” Turtle Noir said fondly, giving her a little wink.

“Stop flirting and do something!” Coccinelle practically wailed.

Laughing, Lady Fox went to do just that.