#cv: Contemplation

[brain-in-a-skin-suit]

i just wanted them to not waste paper but i’m kinda beyond caring at this point

[disconnectedkid]

big fan of the idea that the original Elias was trans, and Jonah doesn’t realize this until he’s already possessing Elias, and now he has to deal with being trans and because he has to live through the experience (og Elias’s parents seem like they could be transphobic) he becomes super supportive and defensive of them. He has to go pick up hrt prescriptions from cvs. He gets one (1) period cramp and contemplates if the ritual is even worth it. Etc etc you see the vision

[demigoddessqueens]

Can I request rose quartz (love) - "i have so much love for you.” from crystal prompts ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱ list with Marvel Gambit, Nightcrawler, Deadpool, Wolverine, and poly Deadpool and Wolverine reacting to their gn s/o telling them this please?

-CV-Non

You got it 😁

Masterlist 12

Nightcrawler

Being used to so many who are afraid of/hate him as a “demon”, it means the world to the young mutant that you care for him in such a way. You, his fraulein, who cherishes him wholeheartedly

Wolverine

Angsty AF for him

He’s felt so close to those from before he could have sworn he could grow to love them before life always ripped them away. So here you are now, selflessly telling him this like he’s worth all the efforts and heartbreak.

Gambit

The card dealing rogue is so used to leaving a trail of broken hearts, genuine love can sometimes feel like a foreign concept to him. He commends you for being one able to catch him off guard but he loves you, his cherie, all the same

Deadpool

For a rare moment, he is silent as he contemplates your heartfelt words before trying to save face (and failing)

“Damn peanut….you always know what to say”

Poolverine

Your boys always yearn for the tiniest bit of attention from you, placating the nerves and creeping insecurities with your loving affirmations. Cue to a pile of mutant and mercenary that keep you in an iron grip

[faerygrant]

having a family with carmy thoughts and headcanons pt.1

summary: engagement, wedding, honeymoon, baby!

౨ৎ Carmen doesn’t propose until 5 years into the relationship! Which although felt like a longtime ended up being worth it, as he had been through extensive therapy and had learned to deal with his anxiety and family traumas.

౨ৎ The wedding is simple and spontaneous, early morning, family heirloom rings at the courthouse. With Nat and Pete being the witnesses. Carmen’s on edge most of that morning until Pete talks him down, which you’re thankful for.

౨ৎ The reception likewise is a simple affair held in Nat and Pete’s spacious backyard. Bright fairy lights are strewn about the garden, long tables laid out for family, friends and staff from the bear. You’d insisted on having a champagne tower, which Carmy had kindly instructed Richie and Fak to put together, to your surprise it had gone well, leaving guests in awe.

౨ৎ The cake was Millefeuille, a classic for Italian weddings, it was the only thing that Carmen had explicitly asked for during the wedding prep and you were happy to oblige. The catering was courtesy of Sydney and Tina and by the looks of the satisfied guests it was a hit. Carmen’s family sat across one large table, so did your family and friends, meanwhile the staff of the Bear had their own.

౨ৎ After your first dance, which Carmen had been apprehensive about from the beginning had actually gone well, the two of you made your way over to greet the guests. The staff were all smiles as they conversate amongst each other, Richie cracking jokes with them as he went back and forth between their table and the family one, Tina and Sydney chatting lightly and Fak and Ebra rating the desserts for Marcus, who was kind enough to prepare an array of treats for the occasion.

౨ৎ By the end of the night you’d ended up in Sydney’s arms, blackout drunk, while Carmen who didn’t drink much, save for a few flutes of champagne, bid the guests goodbye on your behalf. You didn’t remember much except Sugar and Syd helping you out of your dress and getting your settled into the car with Carmy.

౨ৎ The honeymoon is short but memorable, due to yours and Carmen’s hectic work schedules. Spent in the South of France, the two of you bond over food, wine and ofcourse the art. It’s so calming for you to see him so at ease, not on edge and genuinely relaxed, being surrounded by the two things he loved most, food and art, he really was in his element.

౨ৎ The conversation of kids is never brought up, but you see the longing glances Carmen gives his niece and nephew, or the genuine smiles he gives when Richie shows him one of Eva’s many accomplishments. Giving you hope, that maybe someday he’d be open to having some of his own.

౨ৎ Your world is turned upside down when during an early summer morning you’re awoken by violent fits of illness. Throwing up into the toilet bowl while experiencing the most painful acid reflux in your life. You’re tired and upset and Carmen’s freaking out, opting to call in for the day incase you’d come down with a bug, as to not get the rest of the staff sick. When the sickness persists however and Carmen doesn’t seem to be getting sick, he goes back to work and that’s when you notice something strange.

౨ৎ A little red punctuation mark had been missing for a month now and that’s when you knew you’d have to take a test, for better or for worse. So once Carmy had left for the restaurant you’d scrambled to CVS for the test and taken it in the bathroom because you couldn’t wait for the results.

౨ৎ Explaining that you were 3+ weeks pregnant to your husband with commitment issues, anxiety, ptsd and familial trauma was nerve wracking. You didn’t know how to do it, when to do it and honestly you’d contemplated just placing the test on his side table and hiding in the attic of your new home, but alas you couldn’t.

౨ৎ Carmen’s day off was the day you’d deicided to come clean, he could tell you were still feeling well but thankfully hadn’t put two and two together. So early in the morning after making him breakfast you’d sat him down and cut to the chase. It’s safe to say that tears were shed, good and bad and after guiding him through breathing exercises his therapist had taught the both of you, you were able to get him to calm down.

౨ৎ He admitted that he was scared and you were so glad he was able to be so vulnerable with you, in sharing his fears and doubts. You assured him, held each other and made promises you’d hope the other could keep. As the months of your pregnancy passed you saw growth in Carmy, he lit up at the ultrasounds, cried from joy during the first scan, went above and beyond for your private gender reveal and was so hands on when it came to nursery duty.

౨ৎ Valentina Berzatto’s arrival took place during the early hours of the 14th of February, Valentine’s Day. Hence the name Valentina. (Also to stick to his Italian roots) you were exhausted, carmen was in tears as he laid his daughter against his bare chest as you watched the two of them, feeling so thankful for your family.

౨ৎ Your parents had come in about the same time as Sugar, Pete and their kids, all of whom were all smiles carrying with them; gifts and flowers in tow. The cousins were so excited to meet the baby, squealing and giggling as their parents assisted them in taking turns to hold her. Your parents were equally as excited, snapping photos of the ordeal, congratulating both you and Carmy.

౨ৎ Valentina hadn’t met the staff of the bear till her 3rd day on earth, as the two of you had been so exhausted and all you both seemed to do was sleep. So Carmy had offered for his staff to come visit the hospital around afternoon before the two of you fell asleep. Tina was the first to come say hi, happily taking her namesake into her arms and cooing in delight. Before she had passed the baby back to Carmen to fuss over you and ensure you were feeling okay. Sydney was as expected, frightened but excited for the both of you, she was scared to hold Val at first, but Carmen insisted she wouldn’t harm her so she did, smiling at you when your baby had opened her eyes and stretched while in Syds arms.

౨ৎ The boys from the bear were as expected, obnoxious in their introduction to Valentina. Richie and Fak insisted on showing up in suits to make a good first impression on their “niece” to which Carmy had just rolled his eyes and smiled. Richie however was dead serious and you were pretty sure you’d seen a stray tear fall from his eyes, when he first held the baby (which he was quick to cover up). You smiled in joy however when you witnessed him take Carmy aside, hugging him tightly and letting him know that Mikey would’ve been “fuckin’ proud.”

౨ৎ The first few months of parenthood aren’t easy on the two of you, at all. Carmen is caught up at work, while you’re left with Valentina for hours on end most days. Carmen tries, he really does, to keep you happy, taken care of and make you feel supported but he gets consumed by his work too often. The fourth month in particular is hardest on you, Val suffers bouts of colic daily, Carmen is nonstop at the bear and getting his attention is near impossible and you’re just utterly exhausted. That’s when Carmen and Nat find you curled up in a ball beside Val’s bassinet one day after work. You’re distraught, disheveled and inconsolable, while your daughter sleeps soundly.

౨ৎ Carmen genuinely feels like he’d failed in life, the sight had him so fucking scared that he thought you would do something tragic. He immediately takes time off work, spending most his mornings and nights feeding, burping and soothing your baby. He stays by your side throughout the day, ensuring you’ve eaten, bathed and had some alone time away from the baby. After the heartbreaking scene from that evening, Nat had sat him down after he’d had a full blown panic attack and warned him of the consequences of postpartum, and gave him tips on ways he support you through it.

౨ৎ As Valentina approached ten months it was clear to the both of you that your girl had quite the personality. The two of you spent most of your days together, seeing daddy off to work in the early mornings before a feed, followed by a diaper change. Tummy time was Val’s favourite and you always snapped photos of her gummy smile to send to her dad. Nap time was your personal favourite due to the few hours of baby free peace you got, it was made even better when Carmen’s lunch would fall under this time, giving the two of you some time to be together.

౨ৎ Both you and Carmen did bath time together, Valentina splashing around happily as the two of you happily allowed her to soak you, every time. After lots of water, bubbles and smooches, you have Carmen sit in and quietly read to your girl as you feed her before bed in her cozy rocking chair, courtesy of Donna (one of many things she’d spontaneously brought over for the baby during a fit of hysteria)

let me know if you’d like a part 2!

[astriiformes]

Immensely grateful so many people have offered to take a look at my grad school application materials (several friends who have done it themselves, two supervisors from my archive jobs with PhDs of their own, a person from the career center at school, even a professor writing a letter of rec for me who gave me some advice) but also every time I send my statements and CV to another person to look over, I contemplate giving up and never looking at my email inbox ever again. The mortifying ordeal of receiving feedback on some of the highest-pressure documents I will ever write in my entire life.

[simonsrosebud]

“It becomes kind of a lost and found situation” MY GOD. I WANT TO KNOW MORE PRETTY PLEASE

AHHH my wish is ur command, this is the full rundown on how Andrew stumbled upon Blake and brought her and Elliot into his and Neil’s family

So Andrew waits in the shed and catches her when she opens it. Mans is bored okay let him live.

Blake drops the bike and tries to run, and promptly trips in the still wet grass from when it rained an hour before. She kinda twists her ankle and tries to run again but can’t, and Andrew tells her to get up. She’s the same height as him and all fight, yet quickly folds when reality sinks. She begs him with mud on her arms and side of the face not to call the police or her dad “I-I was just- the 24 hour pharmacy is six miles away and I can’t drive and I just needed-” she’s close to hyperventilating and starts trying to back away. And Andrew tells her to knock it off. “You do this three times a week” boom got her. “I… I work there.” “At the pharmacy” “At the checkout counter,” she scowls. “At midnight” “I have school” “Not at 4pm” “I- look, are you going to get me in trouble or not?” “Contemplating it. Tell me the truth first.”

Blake works at the 24 hour CVS at 12-4am bc she doesn’t trust leaving her brother at home when she’s not there. Night time is safe bc everyone is asleep and safe. When she tells Andrew her brother is 14 and not like 3 he tries not to assume the worst. Because of this, he gives her Neil’s ratty old bike that’s been sitting for years, pumps the tires, and drops it on the grass for her. “Petal with one foot”

I should mention that he does this not bc he feels bad about her working at 15 years old but because he can’t won’t afford to get involved. She’s not his kid, she doesn’t know him, he has no ties or responsibility to her. He doesn’t know her situation, she never says anything about abuse and not every situation is like his own past, but he just has this sick feeling anyway.

That should’ve been the end of it, but two weeks later the bike shows up back in the shed looking like it’s been run over. A note attached reads “i’m sorry”. Andrew leaves $20 by the electric bike and writes “take the fucking bus” under her handwriting. 4 days later the money is gone.

Blake is gone for another 4 weeks, and then when Andrew can’t sleep one night he sits outside smoking a tiny bit of weed (bc Neil made him give up cigarettes long ago) and he catches her walking down the sidewalk. She freezes bc she was definitely about to borrow the electric bike again. This time he allows it. Neil hasn’t used the thing consistently since he was 38 (4 yrs ago) anyway.

2 weeks later he catches her outside again, this time texting Renee who is on the other side of the world for something he doesn’t care enough about, and Blake has a bruise on her jaw and a cut on her cheek, bandages around her one wrist/hand. “Bicycle accident” is what she says. “Funny. The bicycle is scuff free” He sees the brief panic in her face. “Who is hurting you?” bigger panic “No one, you’re crazy” “Maybe once. I know abuse when I see it” “fuck you, you don’t know me” he scares her off. No trace of Blake for 2 months, bike untouched.

2 months later, Andrew goes to the 24 hour CVS to get smth idk, not thinking ab it being Blake’s workplace, but what do u know? Blake is at the counter wearing a turtleneck in summer. She doesn’t notice him w her headphones in, and smth in Andrew cracks when she lifts a scratched up a bruised hand to lightly pull the neck down and itch, revealing the bruises. Her eyes are hollow when she sees him, recognition insignificant, but as soon as she realizes what he’s rlly looking at she silently shakes her head as if saying “no, not here, not now, not in front of others pls don’t say anything”.

Andrew leaves without purchasing anything.

However, when she steps outside 20 minutes later post-shift Andrew is waiting on the hood of his car. “If you lie to me, I will call the police and you can let them find out who choked you.”

Scratchy voiced, like she screamed too hard at a concert, she says “No-No please don’t, I can’t- you can’t call the police” “Give me one good reason not to” “He’ll- I’m only 15, they’ll make me quit my job and we can’t to afford- and they’ll split us up, and he- Elliot won’t- he can’t- oh my god” she starts breathing heavily and raggedly and trips over herself into the brick wall of the CVS. She’s never had a panic attack before and she can’t catch her breath and is she allergic to something? Is she dying? Andrew makes her sit without touching her, and waits her out patiently until she’s breathing normally.

“Please don’t call anyone” “Then show me” “Why? What the hell do you even want?” Andrew wishes he had an answer to that but he doesn’t. What does he want? For this kid to not die at the hands of someone else? To get off better than he had? Andrew’s been retired from exy for 6 years now, and sure, he got bored sometimes, but aiding a teenager he didn’t know out of abuse or through the foster system wasn’t something he was really looking to add to his plate.

To be honest, he’d been hoping that the bruises were from a boyfriend that she could just break up with. But Andrew knew better.

He wouldn’t know without seeing her wounds, though, and he’d done the trade game once to know that sometimes it worked. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt up and showed her his scars. She didn’t know who he was, there was no one for her to tell. He didn’t care anymore as it was.

“I gave myself these when I was younger than you. When things got worse, I got myself sent to juvie just to get away from it. I will make you a deal. You tell me the truth about what is going on, and I will get you away from it.”

“Not to juvie, I hope” she jokes meekly. He shakes his head and she just deflates. “It’s our dad” she whispers like he can hear her “He was always rough handed, but then our mom died two years ago and he just started getting really bad. Like, slaps me or spanks me for talking back, or-or throws shit all the time. I had- my hands were all wrapped up cause he threw a vase and it shattered, and I had to clean it up cause he won’t and he just- he just shoved me down into all the broken pieces and it cut me all up” she was crying again, shaking hands pressed to her eyes “and he almost drowned Elliot cause he thought throwing him in the lake over and over again would teach him to swim,” and oh that was an ugly sob “so now I make Elliot st-stay after school for sports and go right to his room after. I’ve been cooking our meals since mom died but dad doesn’t go to the grocery store and sometimes he barely gives me enough money to get food, so I’ve been working-” Blake cuts herself off bc she is trying not to panic again, and when she opens her puffy eyes she’s met with Andrew’s calm but blank stare.

Andrew doesn’t have the luxury of staging a car accident anymore, though. “And the neck?” “I told him I wish he died instead of mom” “Good”. Andrew stands and unlocks the car “We are going to get your brother, and then I am getting you out of the house. How long will it take for him to notice that you’re gone?” Blake looks scared again “I-I don’t know, he’ll notice, but he probably won’t do anything about it until night time. But he-he has my location on my phone”

Easy fix, she turns the location feature off and Andrew drives her to him and Neil’s house first bc he wants Neil as extra help just in case. “The girl that broke into the shed” “Oh, uh, hi? Why is she outside our bedroom?” Andrew switches to German “Her father beats her and favors drowning her brother.” Neil sits up bc okay that’s got his attention, and the first thing he says, albeit cautiously, is, “Does he… do I need to call-” “No” and phew thank god. Neil doesn’t need two confirmed hits on his hands. It’s been 23 years since he got rid of Grayson for Jean.

“We need to go get him out of the house, and in the morning we need to call our lawyer. For them” “Why not the police?” “She said no.” it’s so telling that that’s enough for Neil to get on board “Well, alright. Not forever, but definitely for the night”

Blake is kinda taken back by all of Neil’s scars bc he was sleeping shirtless after all, but then they’re leaving the house again and Blake is on the phone with Elliot that only gives Andriel a one sided convo about “we’re getting out of there for good, pack what you absolutely need, the rest we’ll… i don’t know, we’ll get another time, maybe…. yes, i’ll be there soon. don’t leave your room, i’m gonna go in and pack and then we’re out. quick and quiet, hear me?”

Anyway, luckily their dad isn’t even home they don’t know why. Neil sees Elliot looking through the window as they pull in, and when they follow Blake up the stairs Elliot trips backwards away from them “Who the fuck are they?” “We’re neighbors, kind of. We’re getting you out of here, take it or leave it” “El, it’s fine, please, I promise”

Neil goes with Elliot, who has a black eye and bruises from rough fingers on his forearm. “Dad left in a rampage when he saw you were gone, i told you that job wasn’t fucking worth it”

But then all four of them are safe in Andrew and Neil’s house, and King immediately goes over to Elliot who promptly collapses into a panic attack against the front door. He and Blake sleep in the guest bedroom except they really don’t sleep bc Andrew and Neil can hear the hushed whispers and questions and crying, because they might be in a strangers house and they might not know what comes next but they’re out and they’re safe and they’re going to be okay.

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

Is Wakamiya lying/hiding something?

He replied that he set his sights on Yukiya over a year ago.

A year ago????

The whole time Yukiya was with Atsufusa, the wind around Wakamiya was rattling, unsettling. One could see the trees were swaying heavily. He was looking at the horizon—at the moon, which was playing hide and seek with the clouds—contemplating, ruminating. One time he was looking at his reflection on the body of water.

So, how can he explain this?

Also, if this is written on Yukiya’s character profile :

North house

Yukiya (CV: Mutsumi Tamura)

The “untalented” second son of the governor of Taruhi Village in the North Region. He is unexpectedly chosen to work at the Imperial Court as Wakamiya’s personal attendant. He was saved by a mysterious crow when he was lost in the woods as a young boy.

I presume Yukiya was younger than 11 when a mysterious raven found him and his brother Yukichi. The voice was undoubtedly Wakamiya’s.

Between Yukichi and Yukiya there’s a five-year difference. Yukichi was much smaller when it happened.

I am expecting that they will go back to this in the narrative as they made it the premise in the beginning of the series.

[synths-and-sensibility]

Thinking about quantizers and microtonality and I'm contemplating how elaborate I want it to be. Like, does it just process analog signals or can it also do sequencing? Does it replace my midi to cv converter? How far does this scope creep??

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Leave it by Degrees #5

The unhinged love story loosely based on Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost that I can't get out of my head.

Synopsis: "Have we ever met?"

AO3 post from here!

Previous Chapter from Here!

So, so, odd. He thought to himself as he seated himself in the corner. After spending five hours staring into the white canvas, he had dragged himself into the bar. With Anthony’s oath in the head, he sipped on sparkling water as he took out the sketchbook on the table. It was getting late, at 11:00 in the night, and the bar was mostly elderly couples enjoying a nighttime drink, everyone dressed in tropical-colored shirts and dresses. Benedict smiled softly seeing an elderly couple slowly dancing to John Mayer's Gravity. It was a jazz version cover of the song, the piano softly following the melancholic tune. Benedict's hands worked expertly, sketching the old couple, but just in the corner of his eye, Benedict saw an odd figure, a woman wearing a navy suit, contemplating with a glass of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. Her soft brown curls cast over her eyes, she looked more like a tired corporate official, not a young woman on holiday. Everything about her was out of place, the suit, the whiskey, the cigarette, everything looked so off-putting. Yet, he could not take her eyes off her, his hands unconsciously working on the paper, trying to capture her in his sketchbook. First, her back, then her hands…

But just as Benedict raised his eyes to observe her again, he noticed that she was no longer alone, a man sliding into her side. The bulky guy in a purple open-collar shirt seemed to be flirting with her, yet the girl didn’t seem interested, not dropping the cigarette or the glass from her fingers. Way out of his league. Benedict thought quietly to himself, catching her green almond eyes and long eyelashes under her fringes. He continued to sketch away, keeping a distance from the two, but he knew he had to intervene when he saw the man chip something into her glass. He quickly stumbled himself from the chair, but he couldn’t quite stop the girl from taking another sip. 

“Hey, stop right there, mate.”

“Bridgerton!”

“...Cavender?”

Damn, he cursed under his breath. Phillip Cavender. He had been a schoolmate from Eaton, notorious for his wild parties outside the campus, and he was quite ashamed to have attended some of his parties. The brat put his arms around his neck, almost as if nothing had happened. 

“It’s been ages, lad! How have you been? Heard you became an artist…”

“What did you put in her drink?” 

“…Nothing.”

“And suddenly she’s dozing off?”

Her shoulders hunched into a curve, the girl was slowly nodding off, Benedict quickly took the cigarette from her hand, disposing of it on the ashtray.

“Come on, Bridgerton,” Cavender gave him a nasty grin, lowering his voice in a hushed tone, eyeing the girl now snoring softly in her arms, “She’s pretty enough. How about we have some fun, you and I?”

“I don’t consider rape an entertainment, Cavender,” Benedict said coolly, removing his arm around his shoulder, he quickly eyed the Bartender, explaining to her the situation. “There’s a CV right there, there should be footage.”

Cavender was swiftly escorted from the bar, (“Don’t ever expect an invitation to my parties!” Cavender cursed but Benedict only rolled his eyes,) He gently tapped the girl on the shoulder, wanting to wake her up but he began to realize the effect of the drug that she had choked down. 

“Ms? Are you all right?”

“Mmmmmmmmm.”

“Let me take you to your room. Which room are you…”

“Five minutes, please? I just need to sleep a bit more…”

“Apparently some scumbag had given you some kind of medication…”

“Hi.”

Benedict jerked, seeing the girl suddenly pop up her head from her arms, staring at him with her evergreen eyes. 

“Hi?”

“...Benedict Bridgerton?”

“You know me?”

“How would I not know you?”

She broke out in a lazy grin, a childish smile that was so different from the women he had seen smoking and drinking a few minutes ago, and he somehow knew that that was the smile he wanted to see on her face. Her almond eyes, her light, singalong voice, it was so familiar, but he just couldn’t put a finger to it. 

“You’re much more attractive than I saw you in the pictures.”

“I would very much like to know the name to whom I’m receiving such compliments.”

“Five minutes.” she purred, nuzzling her head onto the counter. “Let me sleep for five minutes and I’ll tell you my name.” 

And for the next hour, Benedict decided to stay by her side, as she snored happily on the bar stools. To protect her, he justified himself, but he took the chance to sketch her, just catching the delicate eyelashes and her beautifully shaped eyebrows. But as the clock struck midnight, he knew that they had to start leaving soon. 

“Ms, can you tell me your room number?” Benedict tried again, but his attempts were quite useless. Just when Benedict was about to call the staff, he was suddenly caught by the wrist, her delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Don’t leave me here.”

“Pardon?”

“Take me to your room.”

“What?”

“...Take me to your room?”

“Aren’t we moving too fast?”

“I rather think it’s an appropriate pace.”

“But, we’ve just met.”

“Do you honestly care?”

“Well…” he gulped. “Perhaps not.”

“…I need you right now.” Her burning eyes met his, and Benedict hitched his breath. Her voice was dripping with sweetness, a breathless whisper. “I need you right now, right here.”

Millions of thoughts went through his head in three seconds. His first instinct was to kiss her hard and take her down right there, but god they were in a public place. Taking advantage of the intoxicated was out of the question, but the almond eyes and rosy cheeks, well developed in the places…she was the sort of girl he would like to bed with. And he was given a chance right now.

He took a deep breath. Think Rationally, Benedict. 

“I’ll take you to my room.”

“How are you going to take me?” She smiled cheekily, and Benedict almost laughed out loud, knowing that the drugs were working too effectively on her. 

“I’m going to take you to bed, and tuck you in.” Benedict gently put his arms behind her knees and her neck, gently carrying her in his arms. She was fearfully light, almost like a feather.. 

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’d love to,” Benedict chuckled softly, as he walked out of the bar, feeling the night air. “But I don’t think you can handle me tonight.” 

“Why so? I’m perfectly capable.” She tutted, pouting her lips slightly.   

“I’m sure you are.” Benedict laughed, “But I like to start with introductions.” 

----------------------------------------------

“I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU BROKE THE OATH! IT’S ONLY BEEN A WEEK BENEDICT!”

Sophie woke up to the sound of an angry roar. Instant panic rose inside her, seeing that she was not on her bed, not her Villa, and the voices she heard over the door were not of Posy nor Kate. Although she was relieved that she was still in her navy suit, she quickly stripped herself away from the sheets. Taking a deep breath, she slowly cracked open the door, and her stomach flipped seeing Benedict Bridgerton and Anthony Bridgerton screaming at each other, the elder dressed in running gear and the younger just in a pair of gray sweatpants. Completely bare on the top. She suddenly felt heated, Sophie quickly averted her gaze, seeing his muscular arms strangling his brother's neck. 

“BROTHER I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT”

“TRYING TO TELL ME WHY THERE IS A GIRL IN THE BED? BENEDICT YOU ARE A COMPLETE MORON…”

“Um, good morning?”

The two brothers quickly broke off, Anthony giving an angry huff and sitting back on the couch with his arms crossed, while Benedict gave her a charming smile, his eyes twinkling with glee. Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. Keep it together, Sophia. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

The girl looked radiant as ever. Without a drink or a cigarette in her hand, she was almost angelic, little and petite, her brown curls flying everywhere. Her blond curls almost looked blond in the morning light, and he quickly moved to her side, leaning against the side of the door.  

“Did you sleep well?”

“Um, yes.”

“Benedict, Benedict Bridgerton. Nice to meet you.” Taking his hand out, he shook her hand, again feeling a peculiar feeling of familiarity. 

“Sophia. Sophie. Sophie Beckett.”

She did feel a rush of relief; knowing that he had not noticed her. She had expected that part, but she still couldn’t understand why she was in his Villa. Did I sleep with him again? Sophie could feel herself becoming smaller and smaller as Benedict gave her a knowing grin, a teasing spark in his ocean-blue eyes. 

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN NO EACH OTHER NAMES? THIS IS THE EXACT BEHAVIOR I WAS TALKING ABOUT…”

“Brother, Ms. Beckett was drugged in the bar by Phillip Cavender, and was almost sexually assaulted by that very man.”

“Oh.”

“I happened to stop him just before she was taken into his room, and I was going to take her back to her room, but she was too befuddled to talk, so I took her here. For her safely.”

“I see.” Sophie could almost see Anthony’s broad body shrinking into a pebble. “I hope you are all right, Ms. Beckett.”

“I’m all right.” Sophie softly nodded, “I owe much thanks to your brother. Please do not blame him. I can promise that he has kept his celibacy, He broke your oath only to save me…” 

“How do you know about Mr. Bridgertons Oath?”

The three jumped at the sharp voice behind them, but it was only Hugh Woodson at the door, with a laptop in his arms. “I, I’m sorry to interrupt your conversion, Mr. Bridgerton. I was waiting in the lobby for the morning briefing..”

“No worries, Woodson.” Anthony gave a soft nod to Woodson, but the gaze he returned to Sophie was quite sharp. “Ms. Beckett, might I ask how you knew of My brother’s celibacy?”   

“There was a post in the Lady Whistledown…”

The two brothers groaned. “How does she know about everything?” Benedict rolled his eyes, sinking into the white sofa. “I’ve told nobody about this anyone except you and Colin!”

“Must have been caught in the bar.” Anthony sighed, taking off his running shoes, “That woman has ears on every wall of London.”

“But you also knew my name, last night.” Benedict’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, a look of confusion on his face. “I understand you would know my brother, but how did you recognize me?” 

Here we go. Sophie softly ran her hands in her hair and soothed out the scratches in her navy suit with her hands. Finding her bag on the floor, she took her card, handing it over to Benedict with two hands. 

“Mr. Bridgerton. I haven’t introduced myself yet, I’m from the Gunningworth Foundation…”

As Benedict's mouth hung open in shock, Anthony tried to hide his smirk. Yes, he was angry that his brother had tried to break the oath, it was amusing to see it backfire on him splendidly. Running away from the contact, only to catch the contractor in his arms. Ironic. 

“I’m here to negotiate the deal, on behalf of Araminta Gunningworth….”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Benedict jumped up from the sofa, tripping at least three feet away from Sophie. “I’ve already said no!”

“Yes, but I believe we can reach an agreement...”

“I’m not interested in your offer.”

“But Mr. Bridgerton…”

“Ms. Beckett.” Woodson’s voice was rather quiet, but Sophie noticed his dangerous tone. “This is a private space, Ms. Beckett. Do you not understand that you are invading their privacy?”

“I’m aware of that, Mr. Woodson.”

“May I show you the way out?”

In complete silence, Sophie followed Woodson’s lead, taking her bag and her jacket in her hands. At the last moment, she stopped, turning her head and looking straight into Benedict’s eyes. Benedict suddenly stopped breathing, her moss green gaze somehow grasping his throat from three feet away.  

“May I invite you to dinner at Out of the Blue tonight, Mr. Bridgeton?”

“A dinner?”

“Yes.” Sophie quietly continued. “To show my gratitude. It was a very heroic thing you did last night.”

Benedict could only grunt. 

“It would be lovely if I could have an opportunity to show my thanks. This is not about the foundation or the deal.”

“So, you are personally asking me to go to dinner with you?”

“Yes.”

“All right then.”

Anthony could hear Woodson growl in the back of his throat, he quickly put one hand on his shoulder. Woodson was incredibly protective of the two, he was almost about to bite Sophie Beckett in the arms. “Would it be trouble if I joined you, Ms. Beckett? And also Woodson?”

“I see no problem Mr. Bridgerton. Would 19:00 be convenient for you?”

The three nodded in agreement, and Sophie slightly curled her lips in satisfaction. Bring him on the table, and the job is half done. 

As Sophie quietly left the room, Woodson’s deep sigh filled the room. 

“You could have rejected her offer, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Well, yes, but.”

“I thought it peculiar as well, dear brother,” Anthony chipped in, opening up a newspaper on the table, “She’s not exactly your type is she? Normally you would go for slightly older…”

“Oi!”

Anthony chuckled seeing his brother turn slightly red.

“Did you invite yourself to the table so I won’t fall into her honey trap?”

“I invited myself to make sure you won’t break the oath.”

“Very compassionate, brother.” 

“Well, thank me later, dear Brother.”

------------------------------------

“Walk of shame, walk of shame.” As Sophie sneaked back into her Villa, she was welcomed by Kate, grinning ear to ear in her Adidas running shorts and shoes. “I knew you were going to get shagged.”

“I’m sorry to betray your expectations, but I haven’t had a single kiss,” 

“Then why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”

“Apparently I was drugged in the bar and passed out.”

“WHAT?” The color drained from Kate, “Sophie, are you all right?”

“I’m all right. A guy happened to catch the scene of the crime, and he called the staff just in time.”

Kate’s eyes were cast down, her right hand rubbing the other arm.  

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you in the bar last night…”

“No, don’t apologize. I was the one who was being careless.”

“Oh, Sophs,” Kate took Sophie in her arms, embracing her in a hug. “I’m so sorry you had to experience this,”

“Katie,”

“Mmm?”

“Do you know who came to help me?”

“Who?”

“...Benedict Bridgerton.”

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

As Kate’s mouth hung open in shock and surprise, Sophie told her the whole story, including the dinner she had planned. She was hoping Kate would attend the dinner as well, to make the meeting more casual, and Kate happily had agreed to go with her. 

“Want to go to the spa with me this morning? I booked a session at 9:30.” 

“I’d love to, but I just want to review my material for tonight.”

“All right then.” Kate gave a long stretch, “Break a leg, Sophs.”

“I’m going to,” Sophie grinned back, “By the way, how was the morning run?”

“Oh, it was absolutely beautiful. The gardens? Magnificent. But you won’t believe the man I met on the course, he was absolutely aggravating, Sophs…”

[grison-in-space]

I'm still thinking about the dopamine post but I coded for four straight hours and worked out an enraging amount of contour analysis today and my writing ability has been nil for a couple of days which means no researching so far >:( dammit.

I am also contemplating whether I should apply for the underrepresented groups K99 or the K01 for this grant, because if I'm going in as underrepresented I'm going in as disabled and AuDHD—queer doesn't count for diversity points in the NIH and I'm of several minds about that. The K99 would help me transition to having my own lab as a tenure track faculty member over five years, but it's also more competitive, and like... can I demonstrate that shit with my publication track record? I'm a two time GRFP honorable mention who has never actually gotten a grant I applied for, after all.

And I mean, a huge part of the reason I'm feeling underqualified is because my academic record is pretty spotty. My diss left me with enough PTSD that I haven't had the ability to breathe long enough to get the thesis submitted, so my CV has three peer reviewed papers on it in wildly different fields: one from my undergraduate thesis, one very interdisciplinary paper combining queer theory with evolution, one paper about the main topic of my dissertation. I've done a lot of things, but not necessarily in a way that is productive in the narrow sense.

Technically my thesis, I guess, which has two otherwise unpublished chapters that could be two or three more papers, but which I can't really bear to touch: my thesis advisor threw me out as a broken shell during the course of the COVID pandemic as our working relationship deteriorated, and then I scrabbled into an entirely different field from my grad work so I had to absorb a lot of information very fast.

(Yeah, remember when I said I didn't care about being doxxed because I already operate under the assumption that it's happened? That's what I'm working with here.)

I have two papers coming out from my postdoc so far, both of which I'm trying to get submitted by fall. If I'm very lucky and very fast I might swing a third. I just feel very very slow—my phd was eight years long and characterized by being encouraged to go off in weird directions without much support—and not competitive. But on the other hand—well, hell, mine is certainly a perspective you won't see tomorrow if it drops out today, so. Why not?

[loose-cannon-wrestler]

FTM PERIOD RANT

On my period and don't have other ftm folks to talk to about it, so strangers on the internet it is! *screams into the void*

I'm in so much pain from my period. The physical pain is one thing, but the emotional pain is so much greater than the debilitating cramps. The dysphoria is so bad I contemplate giving myself bottom surgery in the bathroom with CVS rubbing alcohol for antiseptic. The other thing that sucks is my sensory issues from being on the spectrum. It makes me sick. Can we make sound cancelling headphones for skin? Oh wait. That's called novocaine and its worse. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Even the advil isn't alleviating my cramps. I think a sword to the stomach would be less painful. I'm sticky, bleeding from my core, and I can't escape the torment that is my body rebelling against itself. Pads are a sensory nightmare, and tampons are dysphoric and uncomfortable. I'm going to go curl up with my heated blanket and cry myself to sleep.

[editorialsonlife]

Merp!

3 days into the week, and I've been to the gym three times. Seizing the motivation (and good part of the hormonal cycle) while it's here to try and get more into it. It's actually quite fun? Something I've never really thought about the gym before. The new PT is great, and she's like, let's try this stuff and see what you like and what you don't and build it around what you do like so it's sensible and you actually want to turn up? And everyone is so chatty and welcoming and I'm not used to it! Multiple people have said hello and had a chat while I'm there and it's so weird but so lovely. So yay for that.

I was panicking about money yesterday (it was just a bad grumpy in my head day) and the money side of things is rough, especially if I take a significant pay cut to work locally but anyway. This is the problem with earning double what the husband does. And he could go out and get a different job but he actually loves what he does soooooo who knows. It might have to happen if I get pregnant though but anyway.

I also do like to make it hard for myself because I do wanna be mortgage free by the time I'm 45 but actually we could spread that out a bit further and not have it be such a drama and I know it's only because I don't have income at the moment but it's ok. I'll figure it out and see where I land early next year. All this money talk and budgeting and forecasting has still not yet inspired me to get my CV out and update it or talk to any recruiters though.

One recruitment company has called me though so I have a catch up with them next week when I'm down in Wellington so it'll be interesting to hear what they have to say about the market and everything as yet another govt agency announces a likely 1500 role redundancy for next year. Yikes. Coz the health system can totally afford to do that. Anyway, we'll see. I honestly don't have a clue what I want to do next in terms of a role so I dunno! Could be fun to mix it up a wee bit as well.

At least mortgage rates are coming down? won't hit us until March next year anyway (happy birthday to me).

Got my posters up upstairs, need to sort my gallery wall downstairs as well and then go from there!

Dave and I are officially gunna join all our finances together next year which should be interesting lol. 12.5 years together and we still haven't done it but there's been good reasons. I am definitely significantly better with money than when we first got together which is good. The impending lifestyle crash though... Oof. It's definitely not normal to go on three international holidays in a year though, it's just been a really good year for it.

It's also nice to have the space to be contemplative about the last year, and what's coming next. But maybe I'll do that next time. I'm still sorting it out in my head a bit I think.

[unholiestverse]

contemplating armed robbery as new career path.

pro: don't need a cv or references

con: I'm unarmed 😢

[autobahnmp3]

i have showered and i am contemplating whether or not i wanna send my cv to a startup.....

[iamacolor]

funnily enough I have an opening for a job at another fabric/yarn store through a friend of my mother and I was still contemplating wether or not I should send my cv this weekend

[mrtryingtowrite]

Bro, who even are you?

You know I actually have no idea. But does anyone? Anyway I made this tumblr because I wanna talk to somebody about how annoyingly hard writing is and how I literally just came up with the loose idea for a novel in about the span of an hour tonight and now I'm contemplating how tf I'm supposed to find either: A: The time to do something with the idea, and the time that it'll take to find the time to figure it out, which then eats into the time that I'm supposed to be making a CV and Biography and APPLYING FOR ACTUAL JOBS

or

B: The emotional literacy to explain to myself that I do not infact have the time I have a feeling due to my innate inabiliity to help myself as I manage to help others. I feel A will infact be the winning option. That said... I'm also pretty sure A is going to lead to the most pain down the line when I realise that the story isn't actually worth reading. HOWEVER, there is always the possibility that the writing brilliance that my year 7 english teacher discovered 10 years ago may finally be put to good use. ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!