#I also wish I could justify vinyl

[damondays]

I want to buy the deluxe CD.. but I don't even have a CD player... buut I mean of course - a collectible, but I try not to buy things just to have things... But I also want to get back a little to physical media because like, one of my favorite movies is impossible to find legally here, and there's also an album that made me so happy but the artist removed it from spotify like a week after I found it - which is just... not a problem with physical media.... Also supporting the artists...

I'm just trying to convince myself at this point

[elliespeach]

tear you apart part three | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"you're a charmer, aren't you?" ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. wordcount: 3.1k warnings: murder 😱 and stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! an: i cannot express enough how thankful i am for all the love for this story really it means so much. obsessive ellie nation rise once again, i come before you with this part and i hope it was worth the wait :) xoxo

watching you cry yourself to sleep on your couch made ellie’s heart throb. she wanted to be there for you, to hold you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, that she was going to make it all okay. but she knew better than to expect that you’d let her, after all, you still barely knew her. so how is it that she could lead you straight into her arms, where you belong? 

it was the next day, and although your state of mind was completely shattered by the events of the previous night, ellie was wide awake, ecstatic at her new idea on how to make you all better. she would hope that your encounter with her helped you, as much as it could but she couldn’t just rely on that, ellie had to take action. she never wanted to see you in tears over someone like that again. 

starting her day in the shop as normal, she filled orders, fixed a few finicky records and sold boring albums to boring souls who she wished was you. she spent the better part of the morning fantazizing about you wandering into her store yet again. needing help finding an album, or better yet just to talk to her. it hasnt even been more than twelve hours and she missed your voice already, replaying your conversation over and over in her head like her favorite movie. 

while the traffic in the store died down, ellie did more research on the newly found suzanna mavis. formally known as suzanna hardwick, she grew up in a cushy home, with preppy parents who supported every endenvour she seemed to possess. her facebook was littered with photos of shuana in every aspect of her life, along with her prized possession; a baby blue mercedes benz. but, there seemed to be someone missing, her husband of twenty five years was seemingly no where to be found on her social media. when ellie searched his name alone, mr. mavis seemed to have no social media at all. 

thats fine, ellie only needed suzanna. 

finding out where she worked required no effort at all as it was displayed clearly on her facebook profile. she was the assistant to some shareholder, blah blah boring. but the company name was one she recongized, their office building was just a few blocks down from her store. she passed it nearly everyday on her commute to see you. 

for ellie’s plan to work, she had to close the store early. it was barely noon when she found herself in the parking garage to suzanna’s building. there was a guard booth, but no guards and the garage itself was a ghost town of rich people cars. she spotted the blue mercedes, and her plan was in motion.. 

thanks to you so graciously and unknowingly, giving her suzanna’s personal cell phone number, she dialed and it only rang once, her preppy voice ringing in ellie’s ears. she almost felt her stomach whirling in anticipation, but the sensation quickly washed away into something more sinister. no. protective

“suzanna mavis speaking,” 

ellie paced back and forth near the elevator in the garage, “hey, mrs. mavis,” she rolled her eyes at her own voice, trying to sound not like herself, “i’m one of the guards down in the parking garage, looks like someone keyed your benz this morning.” 

ellie heard a loud sigh, then the distant sounds of heels clicking on the ground. “are you kidding me? you didn’t stop them?” 

ellie suppressed a sigh, “i was on lunch–” 

“your job is to guard our cars, if you can’t even do that–” her voice was shrill, and ellie’s patience was running low.

“ma’am, just come downstairs, the police need a statement.” 

ellie heard a few curses string from the phone before the call ended, she chuckled to herself before sliding her phone into her pocket. ellie slowly walked over to the blue mercedes, examining it up close. she crouched down, removing her small switchblade and flinging it open. she almost didn’t do it, it was unnecessary really. but the image of you so broken by her made ellie’s mouth twitch. how she had smiled at you while speaking about her husband, ignoring you, leading you on, preying on you. the switchblade moved as if it had it’s own mind, scratching the car from back to front in one swift movement. 

breathing out in relief, ellie heard the ding of the elevator behind her. 

she watched from behind a nearby car as suzanna stepped out of the elevator, a sour puss on her face as she made her way towards her car. she groaned when she saw the long, deep slice into the side of the car. ellie pulled up her handkerchief over her nose and while suzanna was busy inspecting her car, ellie pounced. 

she had a hand covering suzanna’s mouth, her switchblade pressed against her neck with the other. suzanna thrashed in her arms but ellie held her ground, “shh, shh!” ellie hissed in her ear, whisking her around and pinning her to her own car. “i’m not going to kill you, shut up–” 

ellie kept the switchblade at her throat, quickly looking around. with the coast clear, she slowly removed her hand from suzanna’s mouth. “take my money, please i don’t–” 

“i don’t want that either,” ellie looked suzanna up and down. her? you’re losing your mind over her? “i want you to speed up your big family move to california. leave tomorrow.” 

suzanna’s eye furrowed as if she was confused, “w-what?” 

“you’re moving to california at the end of the summer, are you not?” ellie’s paitence was growing thinner by the second, and the switchblade was pressed into her neck so deep any movement would draw blood. 

suzanna was shaking underneath ellie, and as she spoke her voice was weak, “what? my family was never moving to california, please i’ll give you anything!” 

shauna lied? why the hell would she lie about that?

“go anyway. leave the city.” leave you alone.

“i can’t just pick up my whole family and move to another state, we-we have a life here.” suzanna was trembling now, her voice shaking just as much as her legs.

well, if you won’t leave on your own. “i really didn’t want to have to kill you,” ellie said casually, almost annoyed. she moved quickly, snatching a clump of suzanna’s hair in her hand and whipping her around. ellie barely blinked as she slammed suzanna’s face into the baby blue mersedes. once. harder. twice. harder. three times. even harder. four times. as hard as physically possible. blood stained the blue on the car, and suzanna’s body fell to the ground as ellie let go. limp. dead. 

out of your life. 

– later that day 

ellie realized she had fucked up big time when she got back to the store.

the night she saved you, she shouldve given you her number. she had no way to check up on you, to make sure you were okay with the news to come. she would have to go back to her tried and true; “accidentally” running into you. before she could see online which bar you and your friends would overdrink at tonight, ellie found you standing outside her store. you came all this way to see me. 

“hi ellie,” you smiled brightly, illuminated by neon red sign on her store. you must not know yet. poor baby. 

“hey stranger,” ellie kept her voice calm, but she hoped that her bodys reaction to seeing you wasn’t visible. she could feel her face grow hot, and she did her best to hide it by keeping her back to you as she locked the stores door. she could smell your sweet perfume from here, and she cleared her throat before speaking again, turning to face you now that the redness in her face had diminished, “if you’re here for a vinyl, i’ll ring you up still–” 

“no, no, i came to see you.” you replied shyly, quickly glancing at your feet before meeting her gaze again with your soft eyes. while you had glanced away, ellie took you all in. she admired the dedication you put into your outfits, and she liked to believe you picked this one out just for her.

“oh?” was all ellie could say. she was busy imagining you standing in front of your mirror, trying on a thousand different outfits. ellie would’ve loved every single one of them regardless, as long as they are on you. she thought about you doing your makeup all pretty, how long that must take. detailing your face for hours, just for me. 

“yeah. i wanted to see if you’d like to get drinks with me tonight?” 

oh.

her eyes widened, never did she think that you’d ask her out. she wanted to be the one to wisk you away for a perfect date that you deserved. but ellie would settle for drinks for now, until she finally could take you on a real date. she composed herself, remaining casual. as casual as she could be. “yeah, i’d love that. we could go now, i’m done with the store for today.” 

“yeah, let’s go,” you flashed another smile at ellie, which she returned. it was like the universe was rewarding her for her good deed. you coming to see her, to ask her out. it seemed like everything was falling perfectly into place. now that suzanna was gone. 

ellie had been racking her brain all day about what suzanna had told her. that there was never any intention to move at all. that shauna had lied, for what? a reaction? why would she even want that kind of reaction out of you in the first place? 

what was shauna hiding?

“so, why’re you in new york? are you from here?” ellie inquired, for no other reason that to hear you talk. you’re here for your art.

“not from here, i moved here to hopefully make a name for myself as an artist. what about you?” ellie didn’t want to talk about herself, not when you were so lovely. but you were asking about her, and she couldn’t say no to you if she tried. 

“i moved here a few years ago,” ellie revealed, but immediately diverted the conversation back to you. “you’re an artist? well, now i have to see a piece of yours.” ellie’s looked through your instagram enough, she’s seen every one a million times already.

you laughed, looking away sheepishly. “i’m no picasso,” 

“no, but you’re you. so, they can’t be that bad, can they?” 

again, you blushed, giving ellie a shy smile. “you’re a charmer, aren’t you?” 

“i try, what can i say.” ellie shrugged, and you pointed out the bar to her.

she held the door open for you, the music already defenening her ears. it wasn’t a regular bar where you could sit and talk, it was a dancing bar. the bass in the speakers rumbled at her feet, sending shock waves up her spine. this wasn’t ellie’s crowd by a mile, but you looked back at her with the face of an angel and grabbed her hand softly to lead her towards the bar. ellie wasn’t going anywhere, not as long as you were here. 

reaching the bar, you asked for four green tea shots, two each. “yuck, green tea shots?” ellie teased, basically yelling over the music. this time ellie wasn’t worried if you wanted to over indulge, this time she could watch over you for real. and she wasn’t about to make the same mistake your friends made. 

you leaned into her so that you could speak into her ear, and ellie’s heart fluttered in her chest. you were close, very close. the top you were wearing exposed the entirety of your upper torso and she found it hard not to stare. “yes, green tea shots! keep up, ellie.” you laughed, pushing two of the shots to her that bartender left on the counter. 

ellie picked one of them up, holding it out for you to cheer to with your own, “i’ll do my best,” she responded, looking into your shimmering eyes. the things i do for you. you tapped her shot glass, and you both took down the shot with ease, although ellie’s grimaced face told you that she did not like shots, but she picked up the second one before you. 

her grimace didn’t go away with the second one, it actually went down worse for ellie. but it seemed her reaction made you laugh, and ellie was okay with the burning in her throat. before she could recover from the back to back shots, you took her hand again. the same electricity as before stirred inside of her at your touch and she barely noticed you brought her out to the middle of the dance floor, people on all sides dancing to the beat of the very loud music, that seemed to only get louder. 

but you started to sway your hips to the beat. 

and ellie’s breath caught in her throat. 

she realized way too late that she hadn’t eaten today, and those shots were already starting to make her head feel fuzzy. and now here you were in front of her, moving your body in ways that ellie had only dreamed of witnessing firsthand. literally. 

with the alcohol swiftly entering her system with every second that went by, she started to move to the music with you. only a minute went by before her hands were planted on your hips, unable to stop herself before doing so. though, you didn’t seem to mind, if anything it looked like you had closed the remaining gap between the two of you. not ellie.

with your bodies touching with every movement, and ellie’s hands on your hips, it became very intimate. very fast. ellie’s mind was no longer racing at the thought of you being this close to her, instead, it felt like it ignited something inside of her. between the sensual music blaring, the alcohol and most imporantly your chest brushing against ellie’s own every chance it got, she was losing control over herself. 

finally, ellie removed a hand from your hip, bringing it up to your cheek. she held it there for a second, looking into your eyes as she did. you stared back with the same intensity and ellie knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop herself. she watched as you glanced down to her lips, you saw the makings of a smirk before her lips were on yours. 

for a second, ellie thought she was going to wake up. that this had been a dream somehow, she’s had a similar one before with you in it, but when she felt your hands lightly tugging on her hair she knew she couldn’t be fake. ellie pulled you closer, the people around you both be damned, she just wanted more of you. her hands were now wrapped around you, resting on your lower back while your tongue slipped into her mouth. 

ellie groaned. which you shouldn’t have been able to hear, but you felt the vibration on your lips. ellie didn’t care anyway, not when your body was pressed against hers and she could feel very inch of you. 

ellie was no where near finished, but you had pulled away. the music was no longer muffled in her ears, and she was desperately clinging to the sensation you left on her lips. but your attention had been moved to your phone. 

“sorry, i could feel it buzzing non-stop in my pocket. my friend’s calling me, can we go outside?”

shit. shit. shit. shit. “yeah, no problem,” big problem. big big problem. 

ellie followed you outside, preparing herself for the worst. as the night air slapped ellie in the face, her thoughts became more clear. i kissed you. you kissed me back. 

you put the phone to your ear, and ellie made herself busy by pretending to look at her own phone, scrolling through her settings. 

“hey shauna, sorry i didn’t see your calls, i’m on a da– what?” your voice, that had been caring a rather happy tone turned cold, and undeniably shocked. 

“do they know who did it?” you asked, turning away from ellie and slowly pacing as you listened to whatever shuana was saying. you nodded your head a few times before speaking again, “do you want me to come over?” your voice started to shake, and for a second ellie regretted her decision. this will be good for you. in time you’ll realize she was no good for you. 

“okay…if you need anything, i mean anything shuana, please call me.” 

ellie looked up from her phone, an eyebrow raised slightly. “everything okay?” she chirped, sliding her phone into her pocket. you turned around, those beautiful shimmering eyes glistening with tears. “hey, whats wrong?” ellie moved closer, her tone soft and welcoming. 

“my best friends mom was just murdered,” you managed to choke out, and before you could say more, ellie’s arms were wrapped around you tightly. she knew you’d hurt for a while, and that was okay. she would be kind of weirded out if you weren’t, but with time she knew you’d be better. you’d both be better with each other. your face was buried in ellie’s neck with tears marking her shirt while she rubbed your back slowly. 

ellie was calming you the best she could, whispering a soft ‘it’ll be okay’ every few seconds that you remained in the crook of her neck. 

you spoke against her skin softly, your voice sounding weak and defeated, “can you walk me home, ellie? please?” 

“of course,” she kissed the top of your head, not letting you out of the hug until you pulled back. you locked your arms around hers, using her for support as she walked you home. 

ellie had to remind herself to ask you how to get there, after already taking one right turn by accident she was scared you’d question why. but obviously your mind was elsewhere. 

ellie knew her night with you was over, that she would remeince on your shared kiss for days to come until you felt well enough to see her again. to kiss me again. the walk was silent, not an uncomfortable silent but a shared understanding that the mood was low, and ellie was content just being with you, she didn’t need to talk. she was prepared to walk you all the way up to your door, and tell you to call her if you needed anything but when she stopped at the main door to your apartment, you looked back at her with doefully sad eyes. 

“can you stay with me?” 

can you stay with me. rang in her ears like a song. don’t smile. dont fucking smile.

“yeah, i’ll stay with you.” 

you brought her inside, and ellie looked around like she had never been here before. the apartment was dark, and you didn’t go to turn on any of the lights. instead, ellie followed you into your room, choosing to ignore the mess that was your apartment. she decided to focus on you, and when you sunk into your bed, ellie was next to you in a heart beat. 

she didn’t move to cuddle you, fearing she would be over stepping. im in your bed. and youre in it too. like a kid on christmas morning, but your soft crying brought her back down to reality. you shifted, bringing your body up against ellie’s for the second time tonight, resting your head on her shoulder with an arm draped over her. ellie wanted to hold her breath, scared you’d move at the slightest movement from her but you were leaning on her for comfort. her whole plan was to comfort you back to normal. 

her hand moved to your back, and the slow circles she rubbed lulled you to sleep. but ellie was still wide awake. 

————

tags <3 @aouiaa @kissmxcheek @spaceshipellie @strgrlxox @machetegirl109 @uraesthete @mousymaven @ucannotcompare @imahallucination11 @thatgiraffefromtlou @cjrights @sc0ttstre3ted @nicolicht @p1llowthoughtss @ellabsmasc

((sorry if you’ve seen this already and are getting tagged i totally forgot when i posted!!))

[pixiestickers]

Tagged by @mydoctor Thanks

Rules: list your ten favorite albums of all time and tag ten people to list theirs!

When it comes to music I would usually see a meme like this and start thinking of all the ways I could wax eloquently abt my favorite albums, but I am currently depleted of my ability to write atm bc i am mentally maxed out due to school, so here have the short version in no particular order.

The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. Fell in love with mcr the first time I saw them singing 'I'm not okay' on mtv2, but it wasn't really until Black Parade that I loved every song on one of their albums. I don't skip a single one when I listen to this.

The Archandroid by Janelle Monae. Love Janelle's older stuff more than her newer music with this album at the top. It's just a mixture of exactly what I like. Weird, quirky, and profound all at the same time.

Figure 8 by Elliott Smith. This album has always been great writing inspiration for me. His music, but this album in particular, appears on many of my mental and also actual playlists for my blorbos.

Little Plastic Castle by Ani DiFranco. When I was 18, I saw this album ranked as one to buy by some music magazine and so when I saw it a few months later at a CD store in the mall (remember those? or maybe you don't, you're all probably younger than me) I bought it on a whim. It was a good buy from my many MANY impulsive music buys over the years, bc it started my love for Ani's music. It was also my first foray into music that was somewhat against my upbringing ie conservative evangelical christian. Since then, I've seen Ani 6 times in concert and it's always been a good show.

Feel Good by The Internet. This is just the type of R&B that I love. Like Janelle Monae, it's a little strange with 8-minute-long songs that take twists and turns until they eventually morph into a completely different song, but it's an album I can play from start to finish.

When the Pawn ... by Fiona Apple. One of the few albums I wish I could get on vinyl but it's just way too expensive to justify spending on something i could easily listen to on the CD I bought ages ago (or more likely listening to on spotify). This album has been there for me at my lowest. Sometimes hearing someone else sing about bad breakups and being angry and sad over someone who hurt you, helps you cope with all the times you've had a fight with your SO or had a friend who ghosted you.

The Suburbs by Arcade Fire. Really sad that Win Butler turned out to be a garbage human bc I love this album, but find it hard to listen to now, knowing the band's lead singer is awful. There were other ppl in the band tho (a lot actually, it's a big band) so I figure I'll still add this album to my list for them and to be honest to myself.

Apollo 18 by They Might Be Giants. Flood was the first album I bought by tmbg, but Apollo 18 is the album I can listen to all the way through with the song Narrow Your Eyes being my fav. Considering how weird their music can get, Narrow Your Eyes is a pretty straightforward break-up song on an album that also contains songs like The Statue Got Me High and Hall of Heads.

The Con by Tegan and Sara. Call It Off is one of my most played songs ever, but this whole album is good and was my introduction to them. This was one of the last CDs I actually bought before I started just downloading everything with iTunes and then eventually moving on over to Spotify and buying vinyl.

Blackout by Britney Spears. Good for working out to when I used to work out and I just really love the song Heaven on Earth.

Honorable Mentions: Exile in Guyville by Liz Phair, Bionic by Christina Aguilera, Absolution by Muse, OK Computer by Radiohead, Same Trailer Different Park by Kacey Musgraves, Hounds of Love by Kate Bush, Titanic Rising by Weyes Blood, and Actor by St. Vincent

I tag: @trashangel-dee @alphamano @bethanyactually @ladybender @selkiestorytelleracademia @theangrypomeranian @vanessarama @leaving-a-comment and @dj-osha

And anyone else who would like to do this. Even if we're not mutuals go ahead and tag me. I'm always interested in seeing others' musical tastes.

[chimeracowgirl]

Floral Arrangements

Summary // Flowers the AOT characters would give you & what they represent

Characters: Armin, Eren, Connie, Jean, Levi, Zeke

Warnings: Slight mention of Daddy Kink

Armin

Tulips | Deep Connection, Appreciation

Armin gifts you tulips because they’re a flower you can plant and continue to grow, just like your relationship. They express how he feels one with you and the empathic nature you have for one another.

Evenings spent at the beach watching the sunset with Armin were pretty common. At this point, it was close to being a tradition. While he always kept a pastel yellow blanket in the back of his car and you always made sure to bring along snacks, you were a bit confused when Armin advised you to not worry about it this time. He had already stuffed a woven basket with all your favorite items and made note of the flowers you had eyed last time you both visited your sacred spot. So as the both of you make your way closer to the shore, cool sand beneath your feet, you help Armin spread out the blanket and weigh it down with your shoes. As you claim your spot on the soft fabric, he begins to pull out the snacks along with the orange tulips.

“I hope you like them”  he sheepishly says, a small smile forming to conceal his nerves. 

Eren

Roses | Undying Love, Affection

Eren gifts you roses because they convey his passion for you. You see red roses, you think love. And Eren is determined to make everything he feels for you known. Whether that’s to the world or you or both. He’s a spontaneous lover.

As you both are heading home from running errands, sitting in the 5 o’clock traffic, you distract yourself by aimlessly scrolling on social media. Small conversation being exchanged between you and Eren as he keeps his focus on the stagnant cars in front of him. He notices a group of people walking down the street, vibrant flowers in hand. The closer they get he can hear them yelling out “ Five dollars a bouquet!” Signs accompanying them asking to help support  worker’s rights. You lift your head up from your phone and before you can realize what’s going on, you see Eren lowering his window, waving the man over.  

“I’ll take them all please” He says as he pulls out two twenties.

The vendor thanks him repeteadly with a nod of his head and hands over every bouquet in hand, to which Eren places into your lap.

Your confusion now amplified even more so, but not as severe as the swelling of your heart for the loving gesture, you let out a breathy laugh.

“Eren, what in the world?”

“What? I’m supporting a cause” he justifies with a toothy grin, knowing that wasn’t his only motive in doing so

Connie

Gerbera Daises | Playful, Innocent Love

Connie gifts Gerbera Daises because of how colorful they are. Night adventures are pretty common and being around you heightens his playful personality. It’s nothing but laughing fits and genuine comfort when in the presence of one another.

Neon signs and city lights illuminate the streets as you and Connie make your way towards the subway. Returning from your late night pizza run, you walk hand in hand listening to his corny jokes. Giggles filling the air as you lean into his side, Connie tightens his grip on your hand, forcing you to run with him to God knows where. He had noticed the bright red sign reading “FLOWERS” down the street, past the subway stop you both were supposed to get on. 

“What are you doing?” you ask while continuing to laugh at his shenanigans. 

“Getting you flowers, duh” he says while turning to face you and pointing upwards to the sign above him.

You both wander the shop, admiring the variety of flowers among you. Connie begins to pick out radiant daises, ranging from pink, yellow, and orange. 

“Do you like these?” he asks, looking for your approval

You reply with a nod of your head and beaming smile.

“Perfect. Help me pick out some more”

Jean

Lillies | Purity, Virtue 

Jean gifts Lillies because they’re pure, just like his intentions for you. All he ever wants is to be the reason you smile. He’s supportive in everything you do and you’re the same for him. He shows his appreciation for you often and while it appears in various forms, he likes to make sure you know how much you’re on his mind with tangible gifts.

After hearing your sobs over the phone from the previous night and the strain in your voice the following morning due to the stress you’ve been under from school/work, Jean decides to head over to your apartment. He figures you could use a break and since you’re not giving yourself it, he will. So as he makes his way over to you, he stops at a local florist and grabs a bouquet of Lillies, making sure to also snag a coffee from the cafe next door, before continuing his venture to you. 

As you lay in bed, engulfed by the warmth of your comforter, you hear a knock at your door. You make your way over, still swaddled in your blankets and open it to find Jean staring back at you, stifling a laugh at the sight of you as little burrito. Only then do you realize the gifts in his hands, and look up at him with thankful eyes. 

“Seemed like you could use some company” he says while entering and handing over your coffee. He had your order memorized just like very other little detail about you. 

Settling into his presence, you grab a vase for the flowers and fill it with water. Placing them in, you notice the little card accompanying the white lilies. Written on it is “Be kind to yourself, my love” and as Jean watches you read it, he walks over the other side of the island to where you are

“Please” he mumbles before planting a kiss on your forehead.

Levi

Peonies | Prosperity, Compassion

Levi gifts peonies, accompanied by eucalyptus because he cares deeply although it may be hard to express sometimes. It’s very subtle but with these flowers he’s able to root himself deeply into you the way you did him. The eucalyptus helps ease the everyday stress you (and him) face.

The sunlight shines through the blinds, awakening you as you lay in bed turning over to find your lover missing. 

Levi always woke up earlier than you, but usually on weekends he’d stay in bed with you a little longer until you woke up. This morning though, he decided to occupy himself by visiting the plant nursery you both had spotted driving home one evening. He remembered your comment on wanting to get a bouquet for your shared apartment, something to make it more lively. So as a way to let you know he was listening, he purchased flowers and decided to construct an assortment for you. Peach peonies for the pop of color and eucalyptus as aromatherapy. Sure, he could have bought a pre-made bouquet, but he knew it wouldn't be as perfect as he wanted unless he assembled it. 

So as you crawl out of bed to find him standing over the kitchen sink, trimming stems and placing the flowers into a glass vase, you can’t help but tease him a bit.

“Didn’t know you were a florist” you playfully poke

“Tch, shut it” he jabs with the tiniest grin.

Zeke

Baby’s Breath & Roses | Purity, Everlasting Love

Zeke gifts you baby’s breath and roses to represent the two extremes in your relationship. It feeds into his Daddy kink, as you’re so pure and perfect for him. The roses are his way of “tainting” you while conveying his feelings of loving you intensely yet delicately. 

Zeke’s always been into the more vintage things. He claims they have more soul, real significance. So as he picks you up to drag you to a new Vinyl Record shop he’s discovered, you’re a bit taken aback when you see flowers resting on his back windshield of his car. Opening the passenger side of the door, you can’t help the curious smile plastered on your face as you begin to ask him what they’re for and why they’re propped there out of all places.

“They add to your aesthetic” He defends while reaching behind your seat to hand you a seperate bouquet of roses decorated with dainty baby’s breath flowers.

“My aesthetic?” you question, quirking an eyebrow to express your confusion as you analyze the bouquet with a smile beginning to tug at the corner of your lips

Lighting a cigarette before pulling out of the driveway, he turns to you with a smirk

“Timeless”

I literally spent 8 hours looking at photos of flowers to make this. I wish I could say I was joking but I can't. It’s okay though *eye twitch* Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this, please let me know what you think!

[firewoodfigs]

Hi!! Could you do "It was a hospital bed, and A slipped in carefully to lie beside B all night" for a Royai fic from that prompt list? Thank you!! ❤️❤️

hello anon!! thanks for the prompt aaaah I had a lot of fun toying with it in between work and the other shenanigans that have been cropping up this week <3 I hope you don't mind the somewhat unusual ending ahaha I dimly recall writing a few other fics indirectly responding to this prompt (here and here!) so I wanted to try something slightly different from my usual fare 👉🏻👈🏻 part of this was also originally from a two-shot I'm working on, tweaked to fit the prompt hehe. I hope you enjoy!!! 🥰

                                       +++++

Riza can think of a million reasons why hospitals are awful.

First, the food. She’s not sure if it’s as nutritious as they make it out to be; there are times when she wonders if it’s even edible. She’s had worse, of course - hospital food isn’t as bad as ration bars - but she’s quickly getting tired of eating plain yoghurt and bland porridge every day, for every single meal.

Second, the stench. Riza hates that every inch of the place smells like a victim of obsessive cleanliness; she has to resist the urge to upchuck every time the door opens and the smell of chemicals and antiseptic filters in like an unwanted guest.

Third, the fact that she’s sharing a room with a man who, at this point, is behaving more like a cat on hot bricks than a disciplined soldier is quickly driving her insane. She’d readily agreed to be his caretaker, of course; Riza doubts there’s anyone else capable of dealing with his antics and ever-growing anxiety. But after hearing him sigh and toss and turn in his bed for the fifty-eighth time that night (she’d counted, because she was bored out of her wits, and there was nothing else she could do other than sleep or stare at the ceiling, per doctor’s orders), Riza decides she’s just about had enough.

She looks at him from her bed. He’s presently engaged with twiddling his thumbs, thinking out loud.

Riza sighs and rises from her bed quietly. She brings the IV stand along with her - an unnecessary inconvenience - and carefully slips into his bed once she’s made sure that the tubes and wires connected to them are tangle-free.

“I never pegged you as an opportunist, Lieutenant,” he murmurs, despite her best efforts to be discreet. “Sleeping with your commanding officer while he’s blind?”

“You could always court martial me later, sir,” Riza deadpans. “Now scoot over.”

Luckily, he obliges without much retort. 

“Your wish is my command.”

Riza huffs. She adjusts the thin, scraggly piece of linen that the hospital justifies as a blanket - another downside of this shitty place - and makes sure he’s probably covered, warm.

“Three words,” she mutters.

“Eight letters?”

“Twelve, actually.”

Roy raises a brow. “What could it be?”

“Would you like to wager a guess, sir?”

“Not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says. Roy laughs, and it’s a tiny little sound that is so discordant with his current mood, but it’s at least genuine. “Now go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright.”

He stops fidgeting, for a while. Riza closes her eyes and attempts to fall asleep - and she actually does, for a while - at least until she hears the sheets rustling again, the movement and tension coming from beside her. She groans softly.

“You should sleep, sir.”

She feels him stiffen. Roy smiles sheepishly, looking right through her like she’s not there. It still unnerves her how this is probably going to be their new normal: him without his sight. Her as his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Riza frowns. An apology is not the answer she wants. What she wants is for him - or them both, actually - to sleep and rest and properly recuperate so that they can have a speedy recovery, so that they can get out of here as soon as possible.

“Bad dreams?” she asks, because it’s the exact same thing that’s been haunting her. (She’s lucky her throat makes it impossible for her to scream or kick up a fuss; she’d hate for Roy to stumble blindly through the room in what he probably thinks is an act of chivalry and/or heroism.)

He shrugs.

“Then and now,” he offers. His smile fades, and he lapses into an unexpected moment of vulnerability. “Hard to differentiate between day and night nowadays, too.”

And because Riza doesn’t know what to say, she simply brushes her knuckles against his.

Roy returns the gesture, drawing indiscernible patterns on the back of her hand with his bandaged one.

“Well, it’s almost midnight now, sir.”

He lets out a small laugh, but it’s painfully hollow.

Riza shifts slightly. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze - hospital beds are clearly not meant for two persons (or anything inappropriate) - but it doesn’t bother her all that much. She just wishes there’s more she can do, to comfort him. Make him feel a little less gloomy.

“It feels like I’ve been sleeping for years.”

“If it helps reduce the incidents of you falling asleep during office hours, then you should get more sleep now, while you can.”

Roy turns, like he’s searching for her, even though there’s not much closer she can be at this point. He exhales shakily. She feels his hand trembling against hers, and responds with a gentle caress. (She knows he’s still feeling guilty, probably berating himself internally about their predicament, about what transpired beforehand. And to be fair, there’s a part of her that’s still angry about all that's happened underground. They’ll probably have to talk about it, at some point, but probably not now — not when they’re both still drugged up and only half-lucid.)

“Humour me, Lieutenant.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep,” he confesses. Dimly, Riza notes that his voice has taken on a somewhat petulant edge — like a child complaining about their bedtime, but she doesn’t comment on it. Being nearly bedridden for a week is enough to drive her nuts, too. “I’ve tried counting sheep and all that shit, and it’s just — it’s not working.”

Riza sighs. She’s tired, yes, but she’s also aware that she’s probably not going to get any sleep at this rate. She tries to think of ways to stave off his restlessness. Reading is one — she can probably bore him into sleep with a Xingese recitation (she’s gotten pretty good at that lately), but she’s technically not supposed to be talking much. Alcohol is another, but neither of them are supposed to be drinking (and besides, the only form of alcohol available in hospitals isn’t meant for human consumption). Maybe chess, then. She’s not particularly keen on playing a game of chess, now (because she just wants to sleep), but she thinks it’ll help exhaust some of his boundless energy.

“We could play a game of chess, if you want. Breda was kind enough to drop a vinyl board here in the afternoon.”

“I can’t see —“

“I’ll tell you where I move my pieces.”

He frowns, clearly not liking the idea. “You’re not supposed to be talking much, Lieutenant.”

“I’m fine,” she insists, turning to pour a cup of water for herself before continuing. “I won’t have to speak much — unless you’re being a nuisance or a cheat or a fraud.”

He laughs. “I’ll be none of those things, Lieutenant.”

“Good.”

She sets up the board on his bed and helps him sit up. Riza lets him play white.

“It’s your move, sir.”

“You’ve made yours?”

“No. You’re playing white.”

“Tough. It’ll be more embarrassing if I end up losing.”

Riza smiles. “Well, we don’t know that yet, sir.”

He opens with pawn to e4. She helps him move his pieces and parrots her movements back to him. Pawn to e4, too. Pawn to d4. Same here. A closed game, not quite like his usual aggressive style of playing.

Riza watches as he frowns with intensity. It’s probably more a test of memory than strategy for him at this point. She wonders if there’s a way he can adapt to chess, to the military’s utilitarian (and frankly unsympathetic) demands now that his sight’s impaired.

(Life is so unlike chess, Riza thinks, in spite of Roy’s silly metaphors that postulate otherwise. The rules are never fixed, and the universe is always rife with uncertainty. It’s not like chess, where you can predict your opponents’ moves if you get good enough. Neither of them had expected that he’d be here right now, losing sleep and contemplating life over a chessboard while blind.)

He clucks his tongue, reciting a series of movements from memory. The Blackmar-Diemer. Riza smiles indulgently.

Still as aggressive as ever, sir.

Of course.

The game quickly becomes a round of blitz, and though he manages to open his lines and mount a rather decent attack, it’s clear that he has trouble recalling after the eighteenth move. It's still an impressive feat, though. Better than the average layperson.

“Check,” Riza announces, conversationally. Technically, she’d had the advantage, both on the board (and in real life). It shouldn’t really count, and besides, checkmate isn’t her objective — it’s to get her commanding office to sleep.

“Well-played,” Roy hums. He’s strangely still in his bed as he closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples — presumably to ease off an oncoming migraine. It happens a lot, when he’s in deep thought, when he’s over thinking. Thinking too much for his own good. “I need to work on my recall, I think.”

“I think so too, sir.”

He laughs, but the sound is again empty, foreign. It is so at odds with his usual smirks and unbridled laughter (when he’s laughing at someone else, or a joke made at somebody’s expense), like there’s an ache beneath the surface that she cannot reach.

Roy turns slightly, bumping into his dethroned king as he adjusts himself on the bed.

She blames the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to cry on her drugged-up system.

(Riza doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to how uncommunicative his eyes are. He’s always regarded each and every one of his subordinates with respect and meaning and gratitude, but he’d simply looked over the unit as if taking inventory when they had come by earlier.

But she’ll make do, Riza thinks. She has to. She’s always known him in a way nobody else has, in a deeply intimate way, like a book she’s memorised by heart.)

They fall silent for a few minutes. His lips part a little - she knows  he’s about to say something - but it snaps shut again, like he can’t bring himself to say the words.

Riza simply waits for him, like she always has; holding onto his held breath like it's the last thread of hope. She leans into his touch a little closer than necessary.

I’m right here, even if you can’t see me.

Roy smiles.

“I hope I won’t forget your face, Riza.”

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 2)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 2: portrait of a dinner

A/N:  the characters in no way portray how these ppl are in real life. i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like this chapter!! i would love to know how you guys feel about the story. feedback is always appreciated.

warnings: drinking, smoking, cursing

word count: 1.6k

important: the whole chapter is a flashback, character thoughts are in bold italics

masterlist   series masterlist   chapter 1   chapter 3

“I rent a place on Cornelia street”, Tom said casually in the car. They were sitting in the backseat of a black town car, going for their shoot. Y/N had suggested that they travel together, in an attempt to get to know each other better. She said, “It would help with the on screen chemistry”, the whole production team agreed. But that did not become a norm for them, mostly because of their different call times.

Both of them had hectic filming schedules and only saw each other when they had scenes together. Sometimes they would bump into each other at the craft service, but otherwise, they were on their own.

During the last few weeks of filming, Tom had started getting her coffee. He had noticed how she took her coffee during the shooting. Black with one sugar.

“There you go”, Tom handed her the coffee. “Thanks Tom.” He gave her a smile. She was walking towards the door, and Tom started following her behind.

“I’m going to hair and makeup, do you wanna tag along?” she asked him.

“Sure, I have a 15 minute break anyway”

“Have you seen Hot Rod? I watched it last night” she didn’t know why she asked that silly question. She found it embarrassing.

“That Andy Samberg movie, right?” Tom nodded, “Yeah I watched it a long time ago, it’s a classic”

“I totally watched it for Bill Hader” She found herself easing up to him.

“Valid reason. Loved him on SNL. Do you know Stefon? from SNL?” She reached for the door handle, a gush of cold air was felt by both of them.

“Don’t even get me started on Stefon. I used to watch Stefon compilations on YouTube all the time. It became a problem” she chuckled, remembering how Haz used to get pissed off whenever she’d talk in a ‘Stefon’ tone.

Oh, I love it when she chuckles like that. I wish I could kiss her. NO. She is fucking married, Tom.

“Yes yes yes, New York’s hottest club is…” Tom tried to imitate Bill Hader as Stefon. He looked around a bit and pointed towards the paparazzi, who were trying to take pictures of anything worth money. “New York’s hottest club is paparazzi” he continued.

“If paparazzi is the hottest club, then I’m fine staying at home” Y/N was laughing so hard that she couldn’t breathe. She clutched Tom’s arm to avoid falling down while trying to contain her laughter. She hadn’t had a good laugh with Haz in a long time.

--

Tom found himself at Y/N’s doorsteps with cheap wine he bought from the convenience store last minute. Y/N had invited Tom and his partner for dinner during the last week of shooting.

“Oh, I’m not seeing anyone actually, but my lonely heart and I will be there”, Tom replied to Y/N’s invitation.

He rang the bell and waited for someone to open the door. Tom was met by Haz’ charming smile, as he opened the door. Tom could see right through his fake smile. Clueless to Y/N and Haz’ fight prior, he entered the two story building.

“Why did you invite him without asking me?” Haz screamed, slamming the plates on the table.

“I didn’t think you’d be home tonight, you never are” Y/N replied in the same tone as Haz

“So you were going to have dinner with him, alone?”

“Yes” she said in a crude way.

“Are you fucking him?” Just as Haz asked her, the doorbell rang.

It would be better fucking him than fucking you. At least he’ll be home.

Y/N entered the kitchen leaving Haz to open the door. “You must be Tom” said Haz, in his most likeable voice.

“Yeah and you must be Haz. I got this for you guys”, Tom handed him the wine bottle.

He’s a bloody hotshot and brought us cheap wine.

“Hey Tom, I’m so glad you could make it”, Y/N said, taking Tom in for a hug. She could feel Haz burning a hole behind her head with his gaze.

She pulled out of the hug, “do you want red or white wine?”

“Red”, Harrison and Tom said in unison. Y/N let out a little chuckle and went into the kitchen. Tom started noticing the little things in their house, like how there were film and Polaroid cameras scattered everywhere. There was a vinyl shelf right above an old golden gramophone, adjacent to their brown leather couch.

He noticed a collage of pictures and recognised some of the photos from the time they were taken on set. There was one with him and Y/N. He felt a sense of pride knowing that their picture hung on Y/N’s wall and the possibility of her looking at it every day.

“So, what do you wanna hear?” Harrison was standing next to their vinyl collection. “Since Y/N lives here, we have everything Taylor Swift, I don’t suppose you’re into that pop shit, are you?”

“Actually I do like pop but more like alt-pop”

Harrison wasn’t surprised. He seemed like a ‘Beach House’ kinda guy anyway, to him.

“So you like alt-pop?” Y/N walked towards the boys with two glasses of red wine in her hands. “Have you heard of ‘peter cat recording co.’?” she asked Tom

“Yes I have! Oh, I thought nobody knew about them. I’m glad I found you”, Tom was filled with giddy excitement.

“PCRC it is, then”, Haz said in an annoyed tone. He grabbed the vinyl of ‘portrait of a time’, their first album, and placed it on the gramophone.

“Babe, where is your glass?” Haz asked Y/N.

“Oh I, shit I left it in the kitchen”

“No worries I’ll get it”, Haz kissed her cheek and left the living room.

Even though Y/N knew it was fake niceties, she still craved it. It felt nice, behaving like a normal couple instead of fighting over every damn thing, and him storming out of the house almost every night. Sometimes she felt that Harrison was a hypocrite. He would accuse her of cheating with every guy in her life, but wouldn’t be home nine out of ten times.

They were now seated on their wooden dining table, with dried flowers in the middle. Haz and Y/N were sitting opposite to Tom. There was Chinese takeout in their fancy china.

“Sorry about the take out, neither of us are good at cooking and we didn’t want you getting sick”, Y/N tried to justify the absence of a home cooked meal.

“It’s fine as long as I’m getting fed”, Tom chuckled.

“No actually all this food is only for Y/N and me”, Haz said, trying to sound serious.

That was a bad joke, all of them thought.

There was an awkward silence. Haz cleared his throat, “So Y/N, are you seeing someone?”

“Haz, you can’t just ask someone that!”

“It’s okay Y/N. No Haz, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” Tom said, blushing at the personal question.

“So you are single”, Haz said looking at Y/N, in an attempt to imply that she might be having an affair with him.

Trying to hide her annoyance, Y/N started serving the food. The rest of the dinner was normal. They talked about the movie and Haz did not spontaneously combust. In Y/N’s mind, it was near to a success. When Tom started to leave, Y/N offered to drop him to his apartment building, but he settled on walking him one block.

Y/N grabbed her jacket as they left the house. She pulled out a box of cigarettes from her pocket and offered Tom.

“Oh, I don’t smoke”

Y/N scuffed with a cigarette between her teeth.

“What kind of an English man are you?” she said, lighting her cigarette.

“Well you know it’s a common misconception, we don’t all smoke”

“That’s good to know”, she took a long drag.

“Also you might not like the wine I brought you. I realised pretty late that I should be getting you something because I was visiting your house for the first time, so I bought the best wine I could find in that convenience store”, he pointed towards the store a few metres away from them.

“Its fine, it’ll remind me of my youth”, they both laughed.

“I guess this is one block, you should go back home now”, Tom said while trying hail a cab by waving his right hand frantically, at the edge of the curb. He looked ridiculous.

“You clearly have never done this before” she laughed at him, turning Tom’s face red.

She stepped off the curb, to be seen clearly by the oncoming traffic, put out her arm and a cab was there in seconds.

“So I guess I’ll see you around” he said while pulling Y/N into a hug.

His touch made her hyper aware and same could be said for Tom. Y/N started to pull out but stopped half way. It felt like they were both looking inside each other’s soul through their eyes.

“Ay, lovebirds, you comin or not”, the cab driver screamed making them break away. He got in and Y/N closed the door for him. That’s when her phone pinged.

Haz: where are you, I’m going out.

[sangennaro]

Around 2008, the year I started tweeting, I was obsessed with Gitmo. I read every book about it, including ones that were obviously pro-military damage-control airport pablum, because 1) there weren't really that many books about Gitmo in 2008, and 2) I thought even the most shallow ones might have some important little poetic detail that would slip by everybody else. By "Gitmo" I mean Gitmo but also the Extraordinary Rendition program and the "black sites" and the outsourced torture and the prisoners in Diego Garcia, and the whole history of the Chagos Archipelago.

Same year as the last real US Cex tour, too. Between that tour and what was happening in Baltimore-- a lot of folks older than me here called it "the Neons"-- I felt alienated and out of place at shows. Which had been, since a few years before I ever even kissed anybody, the only place I didn't feel out of place. I didn't use words like "sleepers" or "wake up" but that type binary thinking was definitely at play: I couldn't stop thinking about how fucked up America was, and I was certain that if the giddy, sweaty kids around me stopped to think about it, they would realize that having a government that openly tortures was significant and urgent, and that we would all be angry together and our collective power would Change The World. "Politicians can't ever save us from our fucked up government, it's up to us Artists," I thought. "We've got a literal stage, we've got an audience. But everybody is too scared to think beyond approval and reviews and vinyl releases and never having to work in food service ever again. Oh, alas! If only they admitted things are disturbingly, demonically fucked up-- then we'd be on the right path! The path that goes away from this wrong world, towards the right one, a humane one."

I stopped touring. I got a job as a dishwasher. I dubbed cassette tapes at home and sold them on brainwashed.com. I still played shows in Baltimore and occasionally one-offs out of town, when somebody out of town really leaned on me/paid travel expenses plus guarantee, but I injected as much cynical gallows humor and mockery into all those performances as I could manage.

My culture was corrupt, and I couldn't muster any desire to strive for its approval or its rewards. It was a clear moral issue and compromise meant surrender. Everyone selfishly pursuing their own individual happiness was the scourge of the earth-- it did not occur to me that there was a greater (even if still laughably slim) chance I could contribute more to the cause of a more humane society if I consciously addressed the immediate obstacle in the way of my own happiness-- Ie, by accepting that other people didnt see it all the way I did, instead of just making fun of them in the corner while I waited for the torturers to work their way down to our milieu.

As far as my ego was concerned, I could never be justifiably happy while the world was broken in such an intolerably repulsive way. And as they love to do, the feelings of Powerlessness possessed me as often as they could and tried to balance the account by controlling situations and people who had never kidnapped or tortured anyone, or approved of it or defended it or wished it on their enemies-- people whose only relevant crime was being near me and willing to care about what I said and did. Being more aggressive than happy people was understandable, if not justified, by our intolerably fucked-up culture, that everybody was too chickenshit to think about.

It took about as many years as it took me to do my first kiss to truly admit that I used the torture to launder my feelings of Powerlessness. Surely, I deserve as many more years of unhappiness minimum for being such a stubborn, self-indulgent dick. It's not hard to imagine a jury of my peers handing down such a sentence, were they for some weird reason interested in reviewing all the evidence.

This universe, though, seems to have a very different sensibility. (Which tracks, given how surprised and baffled everyone is with her reactions to our plans.) Picture, if you can, a vaguely Jesus-ish silhouette filled with stars and galaxies, with a crown of large thorns or tiny horns, sneaking up behind me and saying, "Sorry it took so long-- but what do you think? You wanted everybody else to be angry about how fucked up things are, right?--For everybody to put down their everything else and gnash their teeth? I could have swore you were thinking that this was what the path toward a humane world would look like..."

And as soon as i turn away from whichever screen I'm looking at to furrow my brows and call that jackass a jackass, she's silent and invisible again, although I can tell she's laughing without hearing the laughter, the way you can usually tell if someone on the phone is trying not to laugh.

And then I'm grinning, the way you do when your friend tells you they just heard a great joke, and you can see how much pleasure the thought of this joke is giving them, even though you haven't heard any of it yet.

I might be wrong (I'm an old pro at being wrong) but I think I'm grinning because I know that if it wasn't funny-- the situation with my old wish for an angrier everybody--- then I wouldnt realize it was a gift. And if I didn't realize it was a gift, I wouldn't see I didn't really have shit to contribute to the cause of a more humane world before I went though the process that resulted in me learning how to acknowledge the power of feelings of Powerlessness, and how to accommodate them. And that accommodating them (bargaining with them is maybe what I really mean) is an option-- an option that is more helpful than attempts to overpower them. It's not a huge thing, but it certainly seems to have more potential to mitigate suffering than my being angry ever did.

Anyways.

[expectedbehavior]

I was raised by someone who grew up poor (4 kids in rural Louisiana with homemade clothes levels of poor) and who kept that mindset even after they were no longer financially insecure. It heavily influenced how I conceptualize money and purchases, even tho I am also financially secure. (Yes, even despite my objectively ridiculous “collect all the shit” hobbies lol)

INTELLECTUALLY I know that I can afford to purchase things at prices that seem extravagant to my mind. But I can’t get rid of the feeling that I SHOULDN’T do that, because of many interconnecting associations from my childhood — and also due to How Life Be (TM) in the US.

What if The Thing isn’t really worth that amount? (It probably isn’t but how will I know that until I have it?)

Maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough to find it at a better price. (I mean, maybe, but how long do you “look hard enough” before saying “nope this is it.”?)

What if I get in a medical situation after buying it and now I’m in medical debt up to my ears but if I hadn’t bought The Thing I could have avoided it? (Jesus, I hate private healthcare…)

In the end my mind always runs in circles and I end up settling for something cheaper or I hunt for “bargains” secondhand. But sometimes I wish I could get my brain to understand that buying something used for $100 that looked great but probably has hidden issues and needs copious amounts of work is not necessarily “better” than just buying the thing I need new IF I CAN AFFORD TO DO SO.

I 100% recognize that 1) this is completely a First World Problem, 2) something that is not life threatening in any way, and 3) probably going to make people say I’m a whiny privileged kid and to stfu. I am not writing this post to flaunt things. I am writing it to try and force myself to internalize these thoughts that IT’S OK TO BUY THE THINGS I NEED/WANT EVEN IF THEY ARE “EXPENSIVE”. If I can afford to buy the thing at the price it’s listed at, then I should! I don’t HAVE to find a “better deal”, I don’t HAVE to buy secondhand, I don’t HAVE to justify the price. If I need a cabinet I don’t HAVE to go find a $50 one on Craigslist, I can go into a store or buy one online from a retailer. Right?

It’s just that this is how my concept of money and finances and what is “allowed” has worked my entire life. It started with my mother and the fact that literally every piece of clothing I owned was from the clearance rack. Purchasing a shirt at full price? HAH fuck no, go look at the sale rack.

It’s why I feel guilty when I buy a poster or a Hot Toys figure or something completely frivolous EVEN WHEN I HAVE BUDGETED FOR IT because I know they’re expensive, and my brain tells me I am not allowed to buy things that 1) aren’t necessities and 2) aren’t on “sale” or cheap. It doesn’t stop me from spending money on limited edition things — because I know they won’t come around again. But it does stop me from buying expensive yet “common” items like furniture, house items, other necessities like that. It’s why I think of everything I own in bartering terms: how many posters will I need to sell to buy that bookshelf, how many vinyl albums is that couch worth, I just need to sell 2 more things at $X amount to buy the lamp I wanted… 99% of the time I don’t NEED to sell anything to buy the damn lamp, but that’s not how my mind frames it.

I didn’t grow up financially insecure but I was raised as if I was in many ways, and I don’t know to break out of that mindset. Anyone else here know what I’m talking about?

[taestrawberrie]

Louder than bombs 2

Pairing: yoongi x reader x taehyung

Synopsis: When taehyung appears at your front door unannounced everything in your relationship goes to shit.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut (eventually)

I’ll try and do songs for each part hopefully until I can come up with a playlist good enough for it.

I can’t move, I wish I could but I’m terrified to look into Yoongi’s eyes, instead my eyes meet Tae’s. He has a smug look on his face, eyes burning a hole into my soul. I should look away but I can’t bring myself to divert my eyes anywhere else. 

Looking at him brings back a mixture of emotions. I can still remember when I first saw him. His hair was caught my attention first, black with light waves, his bangs slightly covering his eyes while the back was longer. He walked with such confidence it was almost intimidating but when my eyes scanned over his features he looked so innocent and harmless.   

“You seem very intrigued by this piece?” I was taken aback by the deepness of his voice. “Yeah” I said my eyes still transfixed by Yoko Ono’s cut piece “She’s one of my favorite photographers, artist and singers. She gets a lot of unnecessary hate” I take a sip of my drink trying to relieve the dryness in my throat. “I had no clue she did any thing else besides music and I’m sorry for what I’m about to say but her music isn’t that good...that is if you consider whale noises music.”

At that statement I pull my eyes away from the piece and face the stranger who’s already starring at me with his deep eyes. “Ha! I knew that would catch your attention, I’m Taehyung” a smirk can’t help but appear on my face when I catch a glimpse of his smile, it’s beautiful and infectious “Y/N” 

   We spoke endlessly that night about Van Gogh, Salvador Dali and a bunch of other painters. I found out that night that Tae was also a painter but his first love was photography, that fact attracting me to him even more.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. Yes I was unsure of my feelings when I was with him but I felt so comforted and at the time maybe that’s what I needed but, I knew I need to end things. I  couldn’t keep hurting Yoongi (even if he was obvious to what was going on) just to spite him and I couldn’t selfishly keep Tae behind me like a lost puppy waiting for me to only be his.

“y/n who is he?” I can tell by the tone in his voice that Yoongi is getting annoyed, perhaps even irradiated just waiting for me to give him an answer. I spin on my heels, taking  a deep breathI face my boyfriend who’s standing arms crossed just a few feet from me. His face is blank but I can tell by just looking at his eyes that he knows something is up, they look hurt and I immediately hate myself for knowing that I’m the cause for that. I want to come up with an excuse, I want to tell him Tae is just a friend but I know deep I have to tell him I just can’t keep doing this to him, I love him.

“T-This is Taehyung...we...Um kinda had a thing when you and I were on bad terms. It didn’t last long...I didn’t have any feelings for him I-I promise” I start to walk over towards Yoongi who’s expression is still the same but I can tell by the way he’s clenching his jaw that he’s angry. “You cheated on me?” the words stumble out his mouth “I-I’m sorry, he didn’t mea-” a chuckle cuts me off “I didn’t mean anything to you? How about all those times you said you loved me? That you would leave him for me? Or when I was eating you out and you said he could never compa-” “GET OUT! DON’T TALK ABOUT MY GIRLFRIEND LIKE THAT” I’m startled by Yoongi. He has never once raised his voice at anyone even when he’s been really angry, he always said he wasn’t the type that it just wasn’t in him.

Tae and I lock eyes, there’s sadness in his eyes and I can see that there’s still love in them, even after what I said. My heart beats when I notice the way he looks at me a part of me wants to go and hug him give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him I’m sorry but the other part of me never wants to see him again. “I’ll talk to you later Y/N...maybe this time you’ll finally answer me”he walks out shutting the door behind him leaving just Yoongi and I in silence. 

I reach over to cup his face but he jerks it away, looking into his eyes they’re watery and my heart shatters. Yoongi has always been a composed person, hiding his emotions or not being able to express them properly and over the years I’ve learned to adapt to it, I almost thought he was unbreakable maybe not even human until now. 

He looks deeply into your eyes arms still crossed. He doesn’t know how to react to what he just heard. To say it crushed his ego would be an understatement, now he’s second guessing all the times you’ve been intimate together. Were you just faking it to make him feel better? Did you really mean all those I love yous? But then again why would you end it with him just come back? By the looks of it that Taehyung guy was attractive more then he was, he was more manly unlike him but yet you came back, why?

“Baby I’m sorry it really meant nothing to me. All those things I said to him were meaningless, I only love you Yoongi...I only want to spend my life with you baby” he searches your eyes looking for the truth. His brown eyes penetrate your hazel eyes where they sat for a few seconds. He reaches out to cup your face with his hands, he still loves you even after finding out he always will. 

“I’m sorry Yoongs-” he cuts you off with a passionate kiss, it’s short but it still causes your heart to swell a bit. His hand remains on your face, his thumb slowly caressing your cheekbone “I don’t want to talk about this right now...can we just go to bed and listen to one of your vinyls until we fall asleep?” you nod a bit disappointment that he didn’t want to discuss it but also not wanting to push it. His fingers interlock with yours as he leads you to the bedroom, that night he holds you tight as if he’s afraid to let you go, afraid of you slipping from his fingers once again.

It’s been 2 weeks since you last saw Yoongi, you both still spoke and text daily but he’s been distance which is understandable. You’re confused as to what your relationship is as of right now as he has avoid the topic every time you attempt to bring it up answering that he has to go. You’re a little sadden about not seeing him and it only stings more than whenever you say I love you he stays silent and changes the topic. Again you can’t blame him you understand that it’s not something easy to deal with and he’s coping with it in his own way, you just wish he would let you in more but you’re allowing him the distance he needs.

After work you decided to go to the cafe down the street for a coffee feeling so drained from running around with the kids. You’re an elementary school art teacher and while sometimes you get tried from constantly being on high alter you wouldn’t change it for the world. You greet the cashier and order your regular, an Iced Americano, Yoongi turned you onto it and ever since then you’ve been addicted. Once your coffee is ready you take a seat at one of the near by tables to unwind a bit before going home, taking a sip from your coffee you instantly feel relaxed closing your eyes just enjoying the quietness of the cafe.

Your mind starts to wonder you don’t want to assume the worse but you know that you have to be realistic...your relationship with Yoongi is ruined and it’s all your fault. You were a dumbass to even think no to even go through with the idea of cheating on him. Yes when it all happened you were going through a rough patch, him moving away to another town for 5 months while you stayed home but that doesn’t justify any of it. It was easy at first with both of you talking constantly making the distance between the  2 of you seem almost non-exist but that only lasted a minute. After the first month and a half passed the problems and silly arguments began to make their presence. One night you had had enough when you found heard a women’s voice on the other line calling him baby, he tried to deny it saying it was just the tv but you knew better it also didn’t help he had began distancing himself and missing your calls.

He kept calling you after that day trying to example the situation to clear it up for you but every time his story kept changing. Around this time is when you met Taehyung at the museum, he gave you the attention that you were craving and both you were equally passionate about art, him always praising your work with kids, saying you were molding their minds from an early age. You have to admit to yourself that you did care about Taehyung maybe you even liked him but not the same way as Yoongi. 

He distracted you from the pain that you felt being apart from Yoongi and in a way he you felt like you had found your soulmate in him but in a non-loving way. Both of you would talk endlessly about movies, jazz, art and photography even going on dates to the park at night to capture the sincere. He was well aware of your relationship but he couldn’t help himself from falling for you. In all his 24 years of life he had never met anyone like you, he admired what you did the way you were so caring and passionate about your art work and music equally. You’re hippie-like mentality and your way of speaking causing him to blush any time you spoke. 

“Hey, can we talk?” loosing your train of thought your eyes shoot up to the handsome man in front of you, a man you know too well.

[andysawesometoybox]

Batman 1966 TV Show. Figures and Batmobile. Funko. 2017

Ok, so, full disclosure.

This will not be the last blog post about Batman or Batmobile’s. Not by a long shot. To say that I have a lot of Batman toys is like saying that we English kind of like football, so believe me, this is just the first of many.

Back in 2017, Funko, known for their vast array of vinyl Pop figures, begun releasing their line of toys based upon the iconic 1966 Batman TV show, starring Adam West and Burt Ward. Anyone who has seen the documentary, Making Fun: The Story of Funko, would not be surprised by this move. Funko CEO, Brian Mariotti, has multiple life sized versions of the Adam West/Batman figure in his office! So, it’s safe to say that this version of the Bat is pretty sacred at the company and it shows.

The line is mainly made up of a variety of 3.75 inch figures depicting the various characters from the show. From the Dynamic duo themselves, to Batgirl, Catwoman and so on. The real giant notable exceptions are the Riddler and the clown price of crime himself, the Joker. Could be to do with likeness rights? I don’t know, but their absence is certainly hard to ignore. Rumour has it that they are to appear in the next wave of figures, but those rumours have been about for a couple of years now.

The figures I have here are of the Dynamic Duo themselves, Batman and Robin.

The 3.75 scale is a classic choice. It echo’s Kenner’s Star Wars line but it also really works well. These figures each have 9 points of articulation and are pretty solid. The likeness of the sculpts for both figures are pretty good too. I often give figures of this size a lot of leeway on likeness, especially if the goal of the figure is to create something a kid would play with. Let’s be honest, as kids, we don’t massively care if the figures aren’t photo realistic to the actor that plays the character, as long as we can see enough of them, we’re cool with it. These two figures come part of a set and as such don’t come with any accessories, however, if you buy Batman separately on his own, he does come with a Bat-radio. Robin, on the other hand, you cannot buy separately.

One major drawback, for me personally, are the capes. They’ve gone for moulded soft plastic and although it does have a lot of give it in, it’s never going to match up to the awesomeness of a good fabric cape. That’s just my opinion, but I’m sticking to it. Overall though, I’d say these figures are pretty darn good and a lot of fun.

Note: There is an awesome Variant Batman figure from this line that depicts Batman in the costume Adam West wore for the screen tests, it’s pretty cool and rare!

Of course, no Batman is complete without his iconic mode of transport and to many, this is the most iconic version of all.

The 1966 Batmoblie.

The Funko Batmobile comes complete with two figures, Batman and Robin. As I stated earlier, you can only get Robin as part of a set and this is that set. 

I have to say, I LOVE this Batmobile, it’s freaking amazing, but is it perfect? No, but it’s still pretty darn rad. They’ve taken some liberties with the size. The backend for example is a fair bit shorter than the actual ’66 Batmobile, but I don’t take points off for that because it’s clear that choice was made for the practicality of the toy. The detail is pretty cool too, from the steering wheel, to the Batphone inside the cockpit. It’s clear that a lot of love and care has gone into recreating this piece. It certainly feels like it balances on the line between show piece and actual practical kids too. It’s clear the goal was to great the toy that they all wished was out while the show was on air and I love that.

I do have a couple of issues with it though.

Firstly, the doors don’t open. That just sort of annoys me. I’m not a toymaker, I get that but I don’t really think it would’ve been too much of a stretch for them to make the doors open. Getting the figures into the seats with their soft plastic capes isn’t the easiest and being able to open the doors would’ve helped…a lot. Which leads me onto my second issue. Without the doors opening, this car is essentially one big piece of moulded painted plastic. It’s beautiful yes, but that’s it. It doesn’t fire anything; it doesn’t have any cool fire effect coming out of the afterburner. As a toy of the Batmobile, it’s pretty limited in what it can do. Taking that into consideration, the price feels a little bit overpriced, even for what I paid for it, which was about £30, which is a freaking steal compared to what it goes for now online. Now, of course, I get that this is a pretty rare desirable piece, which comes with an exclusive Robin figure, which then brings a higher price tag, but still, for what it is, I don’t think it justifies that price tag. To me, it’s pretty clear that’s why they linked Robin to the car.

And I’m just talking about the standard version, there are others. Go online and you’ll find the even more limited and expensive versions that come in different colours to reflect the Japanese craze with the show. Those versions though, only come with a variant Batman. No Robin.

Overall, I do love this line and I do love this Batmobile. It’s impossible to love Batman and not get excited at this toy line, even if the ’66 show isn’t your personal favourite version of the character. If the goal of this line was to honour the legacy of the ’66 TV show, then mission well and truly accomplished. Don’t take my issues with it as a sign that I don’t appreciate the work that’s gone into it. I’m glad that I have it in my collection, but I am also glad that I paid what I did for it, because I would not pay the going rate for it now. You can still get pretty much all of this line online pretty easily, bit it a various prices.

Toy line Score: 7.5/10

Highlight: The Batman and Robin figures IN the Batmobile.  

After note: It’s worth noting that because the Batmobile has been designed to carry 3.75 inch figures, it gives us the opportunity for, shall we say, crossovers.

[honeydrippingbeehives]

I was tagged by @cutefuntime for this makeup questionnaire!

What foundation/concealer do you use? I alternate between a Clinique foundation gifted to me by @neverknewandneverwill, the BB cream from Covergirl, and absolutely nothing because I’ve been breaking around my chin lately and I don’t want to bother it.

What do you think of fake eyelashes? Any time I try to apply them they get so gummy with the glue. I wish I could apply them properly because I think I’d like them otherwise! One year I’d like to be Lisa Simpson for Halloween and use those individual Electra Heart-style ones for more of a cartoonish look.

What makeup tools do you use in makeup application? I get almost all of my brushes and knockoff beauty blenders at Daiso whenever I visit California and I get some of my eyeshadow brushes through my Ipsy bags.

What makeup do you currently wear every day? I wear the Benefit Gimme Brow+ in warm golden blondie, Kiko Milano’s Velvet Passion Matte Lipstick and Everlasting Colour Precision Lip Liner in Cherry, Urban Decay’s Eyeshadow Primer Potion, Pop Beauty’s Bright Up Your Life eyeshadow palette in Naturally Bare, Too Faced’s Love Flush in Justify My Love, various highlighters from my Ipsy bags, Too Faced’s Damn Girl! mascara (a sample because I would never personally buy expensive mascara), NYX Vinyl Liquid Liner, and MAC ‘s Prep + Prime Fix+ setting spray (also a gift! My go-to is normally the L’Oreal Infallible Pro-Spray & Set in a travel size). When I want a more nudeish pink than red I like NYX’s Soft Matte Lip Cream in Sao Paulo.

What do you think of makeup? I agree with @cutefuntime‘s comments about makeup being a tool of patriarchal capitalism. I started a high-stress management job this year, and I already know that during our busy season I’m going to have to use the little time and energy I’ll have to put on makeup before work to be taken seriously by customers. I’ve also started dating someone pretty recently, and I’m secretly so scared of him seeing me with zero makeup on (that might be an anxiety thing also).

What cosmetic products have you always wanted to try but still haven’t? I believe it’s Tarte that has a storefront in San Francisco where you can design your own lipstick shade. I would love to do something personalized like that!

How often do you shop for makeup? Aside from getting an Ipsy glam bag every other month, only when I need to refill/replace things I like. Every once in a while I’ll treat myself to something from Sephora. My last major splurge was at the beginning of this year, I got the Fenty Beauty Stunna lip paint in Uncensored and the travel duo of Flowerbomb by Viktor & Rolf. I also stopped by the Kiko storefront when I was in NYC in June because I loved their makeup when I was in Italy a few years back.

Who are your favorite bloggers/vloggers? I used to watch Kim Chi and Naomi Smalls’ MUG series on but other than that YouTube is for Bill Hader interviews and NOTHING ELSE.

Do you like multifunctional products like lip and cheek stains? I do! I actually used lipstick as blush for a short while before falling in love with my Too Faced one and sometimes I’ll apply a little pink/nude highlighter onto my eyelids with a pinky instead of eyeshadow if I’m in a rush.

Do you subscribe to any beauty boxes? I get the Glam Bag from Ipsy every other month.

Favorite recent beauty buy? A fuckton of brushes at Daiso last time I was in California!

All-time favorite beauty item? I love the Besame Victory Red lipstick. I’m not sure if it’s my no. 1 favorite of all time but it’s high up there, a classic red lip has been my signature for about 6 years to the point where people don’t recognize me without it, and that’s one of the best shades IMHO. I also love the Urban Decay Mrs. Mia Wallace lipstick because it would look cooler/warmer on you depending on your skin tone!

Any beauty brands you won’t support? I’m copying @cutefuntime and sayingJeffree*, Kat Von D, and any Kardashian makeup brand. I also stopped supporting LimeCrime after learning more about Doe Deere.

I’m tagging @oh-its-way-past-my-bedtime, @neverknewandneverwill, and @cacupid because you all serve up some great looks! Anyone else who’s interested in being tagged LMK!

[artificialqueens]

What Happens At DragCon... (Biadore) - Miss Alyssa Secret

Biadore shenanigans at DragCon, involving Roy hiding in plain sight (and fishnets and a thong) and Raja’s terrible timing.  

Technically Roy is 150% busy with Jamie in London, but let’s pretend he managed to sneak away ;).  Standalone from the Not Casual At All series, parallel but not strictly a part of it.

Anonymous prompts: 1) Roy dresses up in bad drag (so he can avoid being noticed) and visit’s Adore’s dragcon booth - up to you if she recognizes him immediately and what shennanigans they try to get up to without the fans knowing.  2) Biadore enjoy the fact attention’s off them at dragcon because everyone’s watching Branjie & take the opportunity to get frisky behind the scenes..

I’ve had a couple of requests on AO3 for a second part, and am trying to decide if it should be a backstage quickie before/after Adore’s runway performance, or full on hotel room smut.  Let me know your opinions! -MAS

********

Getting through LAX incognito was easier said (texted? tweeted?) than done, particularly on this specific weekend.

Roy felt justifiably paranoid, peering around corners and keeping carefully non-descript, hiding in plain sight amongst the countless number of other men in slim fit suits with sleek carryons and garment bags.  Instead of his usual baggy all-black ensemble, he’d traded the oversized hoody and skinny black camo pants for a blue button down and fitted dove grey blazer with dark wash jeans.    Ditching the black-framed glasses was more difficult, but if contacts and hair gel were all it took to move through the crowds of eagle-eyed fans on the lookout for queens arriving…

Slipping on a pair of less conspicuous sleek Ray Bans, he hailed a taxi and directed it to his hotel for the weekend.

********

Groups of people wearing Alaska Thunderfuck t-shirts and bearing strings of Katya’s doll hands were all over the lobby, and avoiding being caught in the background of their numerous Instagram posts was exhausting.  

There had been a dicey moment at the front desk, trying to complete check in as quickly and quietly as possible.  Thankfully, the oblivious staff member’s cheerful, “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Haylock!” was lost in a fan’s excited scream on spotting Plastique on the sidewalk outside.  Smiling tightly, he palmed the keycard and walked briskly towards the bank of elevators.

Traveling with one roll-on suitcase was itself a luxury.  Roy so rarely went anywhere without having to bring Bianca’s bags or needing help loading luggage.  Propping the suitcase on the coffee table, he checked his phone for missed notifications.  There were the usual Instagram tags, but below he tapped on the message from “Pussyface”.

Miss you Willow.  Wish you were here this weekend.

Smiling, he sent a string of lipstick kisses and a selfie strategically engineered to conceal any traces of his actual location.

Thirty seconds later, he added a very unsubtle shot of him cradling his half-hard dick, licking his lips when Adore sent back a row of middle fingers.

Roy cracked his knuckles, shucked off the blazer, and opened his suitcase.  

He loaded a YouTube video just to check that his envisioned plan of attack was more or less accurate, comparing it with memories of what he’d observed in dressing rooms over the years.

Chuckling evilly, he sat in front of the mirror and set to work.

********

Roy blocked the outer half of his brows, waiting impatiently for them to dry.  They felt odd that way, but doing a complete block and drawing them in their habitual position halfway up his forehead wouldn’t look right.

Concealing the shadow along his jaw took a bit longer, covered under a thick layer of foundation a few shades lighter than normal.  He didn’t bother with any contouring on forehead and cheeks, instead concentrating on shrinking his nose down, changing its shape into something less narrow.  

Frowning, he skipped over the well-used primary colors in his palette before setting it aside and digging back into the bag for a rarely-used case.  The shimmering teal he applied around his eyes was as far from Bianca’s white and red-shaded smoke as possible.  A little white went into the corners, closer to the scale a woman might actually use to highlight her eyes.  

He reached into the box marked “eye pencils” for a mostly used up one, heating it with a hairdryer before smearing it thickly along upper and lower lids.  Satisfied with the effect, liquid liner was next, drawing thick wings where Bianca’s raccoon shadow would normally be smudged.  A single pair of lashes completed the eyes, and he practiced winking flirtatiously.

Nude lips were next.  He studied the effect critically in the mirror (it called too much attention to his damnably distinguishing dimples) before reaching for a bright red.  The lipstick was Adore’s, swept into his cases in a dressing room somewhere over the years and never quite returned.  Exaggerating a pout, he skipped Bianca’s pronounced Cupid’s bow for a rounder shape.

Setting the makeup cases aside, he peered into the bottom half of the suitcase with a wicked grin.  

Inside were items that would never be found in his or Bianca’s closet…but were awfully common among the fans descending on DragCon. 

Bianca’s bottom half always started with tucking his exceedingly masculine bulge (“fucking huge dick”, according to Adore) followed by generous hip padding that extended well down Roy’s thighs to create curves and four pairs of tights.  

Today, he didn’t bother tucking at all.  Tossing the snug briefs aside, he unrolled a small bundle of fabric and pulled it on.  The elastic bands hooked themselves over his hips and he adjusted himself, wiggling a few times until he was sure that there wouldn’t be any accidents.  A pair of fishnets were next, unshaven legs on full display.

Simultaneously self-conscious and excited to step so far outside his usual comfort zone, Roy buttoned on a shredded pair of cutoff denim shorts (‘borrowed’ from Adore’s wardrobe a few weeks ago and apparently not missed either).  The top rode well below the waistband of the tights, thong straps completely visible.

Biting his lip, he slipped on a crop top (also nabbed from Danny’s dresser) over his unpadded torso and a torn up Misfits t-shirt over it all.  The holes showed off both the dusting of hair starting to grow back on his conspicuously flat chest, and the fact that he hadn’t bothered to shave under his arms - and wasn’t that an indulgence during Jamie.  

Stepping up into shiny vinyl platform boots, he zipped them and examined himself in the mirror with a critical eye as the wig went on.  Without Bianca’s usual base, the dark-rooted mermaid green hair settled into place slightly askew.  He secured it with a handful of bobby pins, resisting the urge to detangle and blasting it with hairspray.

A spiked leather choker and enormous hoop earrings completed the look.  Concentrating on softening his voice, he made eye contact with his reflection.  A passable Adore cosplay stared back, and he grinned.

”Party.”

********

The DragCon floor felt vastly different amongst the crowds, not being escorted from place to place and no roar as a recognized queen.  Instead, Roy melted into the sea of pink wigs, frilly crinolines, and ridiculous heels.  There were dozens of others dressed as Adore, Trixie, Katya, and even a few Biancas that he had to give credit to for managing her face half-decently.

Most of the attention seemed to be focused on Brooke Lynn and Vanjie’s booths.  He steered well clear, unsure whether Brooke Lynn’s sharp attention to detail would blow his surprisingly effective cover.

Adore’s line was one of the longer ones, and he could hear her laughter long before the pizza-printed backdrop came into view. Spinning a VIP badge, he slipped into line and kept his face nonchalantly turned towards the floor.  He’d been complimented several times already on his “sick makeup”, which hadn’t required more than a smile in thanks, carefully controlled to avoid the dimples surfacing.  The makeup changed the shape of his face, but there was no concealing his voice.

He reached the front of the line, maneuvering so that the gaggle of blushing young women ahead of him blocked Adore’s view as they approached her.  The giggling and tears were simultaneously endearing and a little odd from this side of the table.  After sharing hugs, one of them presented Adore with a gift bag that proved to contain a sketch of Adore and Bianca from one of their many drag selfies.

”Oh wow, did you draw this?  It’s so good!” Adore kissed her cheek and beamed at her.  “I love it, I can’t wait to show it to Bianca!”

“Ohmigod really?” The girl’s voice was quivering with what Bianca assumed to be excitement, face flushed pink. 

“Yeah!  She’s gonna love it too.”

”We were sad she isn’t here,” one of the others chimed in, sporting a passable rendition of Shangela’s spiky red outfit.  

Adore paused in signing a photo, nodding.  “I miss her, but she’s busy being rich and all that in London.”

”We really like her too!  What’s she like for real?” 

Gesturing for them to join her in front of the photo backdrop, Adore’s smile softened a bit as they moved to either side.  “She’s the love of my life, like the most super amazing person ever.”

Roy lost the rest of what she said as the girls arranged themselves around her and several flashes went off.  Adore’s seemingly offhand comment filled his chest with a peculiar warmth, and it took squeezing the edge of the table to bring his smile under control.

”Hi baby!” Adore’s voice came from his right.

He kept his chin ducked down, messy curls obscuring most of his face.  

”I love your outfit,” she continued, voice gentle as he kept up the shy fan pretense.  “Wanna hug?”

She stepped forward with her arms held out, and he let her fold him into an embrace that was 100% Adore but lacking their usual full-body contact.  Unable to resist, Roy leaned in until his painted lips brushed her ear.

”Wanna fuck?”

Adore whipped her head around so fast that their noses barely missed colliding.  Under the cover of both of their wigs, her mouth fell open and she blinked rapidly.

”What-“

”Shhhhh!”

For once, Adore actually listened and pasted on a wide smile while talking through her teeth.

”What.  The fuck.  Willow?”

”Surprise, pussyface.”  As reluctant as he was to let go, they needed to separate before the length of their hug resulted in unwanted attention.

Holding onto his shoulders, she pushed him back to arms length.  

“Oh my gosh, I love you too!” she added a bit too loudly before firmly pulling him back in and pressing his face against her shoulder.  “Oh sweetie, don’t cry…”

Sure that he was leaving foundation on her bare skin, Roy nonetheless had to give her credit for fast thinking as she called out a “be right back!” to her staffer and maneuvered him behind the curtain at the back of the booth.  On the way, he caught a glimpse of the fans in line behind him, a mixture of envy and hero worship written over their expressions.

********

”What the fuck, Willow?” Adore repeated once they were alone in the narrow canvas-lined corridor between her booth and the one on the other side.  “You’re supposed to be in London!”

”You mean I can’t make a trip out to see my best girl?” He grinned, reveling in the shock.

”You…you’re…fuck!” she sputtered.

”That’s me.  In fact-“

Whatever he meant to say next was cut off as Adore crushed her lips against his, hands curved around his jaw.  He melted into the kiss for a moment before returning it with equal ferocity.  Their tongues met in a series of sloppy open-mouthed kisses, lipstick smearing as Roy bit at Adore’s full lower lip.  

“-fuck me,” she moaned into his mouth when they separated for air, eyes glazed over with passion.  “Missed you so much.”

”Missed you too.  You have no idea.”

Her gaze focused again as it traveled the length of his body.

”You look fucking hot as hell as me.”  Her hands caressed his exposed midsection, gliding down over his abs and the waistband of the fishnets.  “Holy fuck,” Adore groaned when she cupped him through the denim, “I can’t believe you’re wearing this.”

“They’re your shorts.”  It was the only thing his rapidly short-circuiting brain could think of, losing the ability to think as her fingers popped all three buttons with one pull and she stared hungrily at the thong barely containing his erection.

”I’m going to-“

”Adore?” The staffer’s head peeked around the curtain.  By some miraculous stroke of luck, her back was turned and body angled just so, concealing both her lustful stare and Roy’s open fly as she shoved his face back down onto her shoulder.  “Everything okay?”

”Yeah.” Her voice was shaky but firm.  “Give me a few?  We’re a little uhhh emotional right now…”

”Oh!  Of course.  Why don’t you take a break for a little while?  I can put the sign up for fifteen.”

Turning just enough to wink at the oblivious DragCon volunteer, Adore waved her thanks and waited until the curtain fell closed again before dragging Roy by the hand through the maze of metal supports and backdrops.  She didn’t stop until they were both safely behind a door marked Queens Only.  Glancing around quickly as she steered him into a corner, Roy realized that the much larger room had been partitioned into individual dressing room spaces.  He stumbled a little as she pushed him into one of the spaces, recognizing her beat up makeup cases.

The curtain closed with a snap behind her, and then she was backing him against the wall with a predatory expression.

”We’ve got ten minutes,” she murmured, the husky tone sending a bolt of lust straight to his balls.  “Which sucks, because I need to fuck you so bad right now.”

Roy’s head jerked to the side as the sound of rattling hangers came from the other side of one of the partitions.  “Adore-“

”Shut.  Up.”  Her mouth covered his again, fingers delving underneath fishnet and black elastic to grope his ass and squeeze his still-hard cock.  His own hands roamed over her in return, pinching a nipple through the gold star pasties and tugging the straps of her own thong.

“You know,” he tore himself free to whisper, “I can’t decide if the string up my ass is making me horny or if it’s the worst self-inflicted wedgie ever.”

”Fucking…B, if you don’t suck my cock now I’m going to bend you over this table.”

Adore looked every bit as serious as her threat sounded, and Roy sank to his knees, taking her pants down with him.  Mouthing the fabric straining over the head, he froze when a very familiar voice came through the curtain.

”Adore?  You in there?”  Raja sounded mellow as always, and a long-fingered hand pulled the curtain aside.  “I was wondering if you wanted to go have a- Oh, sorry!”

“Sort of busy right now.”

”I can see that,” Raja muttered.  “I’ll umm, why don’t I come by your booth later?”

”Yeah.” Adore’s hands kept his face pressed to her crotch, preventing Raja from glimpsing more than the top of his head.  

”…Danny.”  She turned to leave, but paused halfway.  Her voice was unexpectedly serious.

”…what?  I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

”Is he okay with this?”  Roy froze at the admonishing whisper.  While he was trying to be incognito, it wasn’t fair to let someone as perceptive as Raja worry about Adore’s behavior.  Tugging free from her restraining grip, he leaned around Adore’s hip.  

“He’s absolutely okay with this.” He smirked, watching Raja’s eyebrows fly up towards her hairline.  “But don’t tell anyone that.”

”Ahhh.  Good to see you, even if you’re not supposed to be here.”  Raja let the curtain slip back closed.  “You two better be careful,” she advised, “or else you know the rumors.  Carry on.”

In the silence as her footsteps receded, Roy sat back on his heels and met Adore’s crestfallen eyes.

”Well shit.  She’s right, you know, we probably shouldn’t be doing this here.”

”But-“

Roy hauled himself to his feet, brushing his fingers over her cheek.  

“Shh.  I want you just as bad, but I’m not going to start what we don’t have time to finish right now.”

Adore’s frustrated growl vibrated against his hand.  

“Fuck, I know.”

Reaching into the front pocket of his shorts, Roy pulled out a keycard and pressed it into her hand.

”Three ninety-six.  I’ll be there when you’re off the floor.”

”I’ve still got the runway show after.  Come see me?”  

“Wouldn’t miss it.  Now get out of here before someone else finds us.”

Adore pulled him into one last lingering kiss.

” ‘Kay.”

Tracing her lips with a finger, he cleared away the remnants of his lipstick on her mouth as best he could.  

“I’ll be waiting.”

TO BE CONTINUED?

[blouisparadise]

There were so many amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) When Boys Become Drugs | Not Rated | 274 words

Louis' always been a wild child.

2) Imagine | Not Rated | 1203 words

"...Imagine a world like that."

Where Harry and Louis talk about what life would have been like if they did not decide to join the band and ran away together, but they quickly realize they would not be as strong and as in love as they are here in this moment in time if they would not have taken the risk. And no matter what they came face to face with, they both knew that in their hearts that they would be the definite endgame for one another and nothing could tear them apart.

Inspired by Ariana Grande's single, 'Imagine.'

3) You Make My Heart Race | Explicit | 1333 words

Louis just wants to have it rough, Harry gives him rough.

4) Scars Don't Make You Ugly | Mature | 1604 words

Sometimes Louis needs to be reminded that hes beautiful

5) Falling Too Deep | Explicit | 2895 words

Niall helps Harry find someone spend his rut with.

Louis can make alphas drop.

6) No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way | Explicit | 3787 words

The one where Harry has a particular desire that only Louis can fulfil.

7) One Touch Is Never Enough | Explicit | 3854 words

It’s been a rough year for Louis. First, he was turned into a werewolf, which hasn't been so bad, except that he didn't anticipate how it would affect his love life. Maybe it’d be easier to ignore if he wasn’t constantly bombarded by the sound of his two werewolf best friends getting it on in the next room.

At least they were nice enough to give him a gift certificate for a massage.

8) I Don't Want A Taste (I Want It All) | Explicit | 3865 words

AU where Harry tells Louis to go fuck himself, Louis tells Harry to fuck him himself, and Harry follows through.

9) In This Light (I Fell For You) | Mature | 5334 words

Christmas AU where Harry is going to perform his very first concert and Louis is his mute (and very supportive) boyfriend. Also lots of kittens, bad puns and boyfriends being cute.

10) Azaleas Where Your Face Should Be | Explicit | 5626 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Harry and Louis having some sexy time and some sappy time and sometimes both at the same time.

11) Searching For A Sweet Surrender | Explicit | 7250 words

The one where Louis is acting extra bratty at Ed's wedding and Harry gives him exactly what he needs.

12) Beautifully Broken | Mature | 7827 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Louis's a little broken, but that's okay. Harry's studying to be a psychologist. They bond over thrift shop trinkets and vinyls. They make it okay.

13) Into It | Explicit | 9197 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Louis meets Harry. They hit it off.

14) The Heist | Explicit | 9423 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

“If you sabotage us, I get a bullet in my head. You’re willing to let me die just so you can avenge your-“ Harry pauses, glancing over Louis’ shoulder to see Liam and Zayn watching them carefully. Their eyes are squinted, arms crossed and ready to step in if need be. “Just so you can take care of some unfinished business?” Harry questions uneasily. Without hesitation, Louis replies, “Yes.” Harry grits his teeth together in frustration before stepping back, pinching the bridge of his nose as he feels a headache creep into his temples.

15) If Walls Could Talk | Explicit | 10028 words

Harry is in love with his straight best friend. He thinks he doesn't have a chance, until Louis presents him with a challenge he can't refuse.

16) Tattooed Heart | Explicit | 10035 words

Note: This is a sequel to this fic.

“Is that fucking real?”

Harry grins. “Feel for yourself.”

A curious hand comes to trace over Harry’s chest, sighing in awe. “Harry.”

He watches him as he does it and wishes he had a camera on him, because the sight of Louis’ dainty hand caressing the beautiful L written in intricate cursive right over Harry’s heart has to be the single greatest thing he’s ever seen.

“Like it?” he asks.

“Harry,” Louis repeats, suddenly digging his thumb into the skin as if it was going to disappear at any second—it wasn’t, something Harry’s tattoo artist made sure of. “That’s—that’s permanent.”

“You’re permanent,” Harry replies, simple as can be.

17) Holding Back the Flood | Not Rated | 11454 words

Louis Tomlinson has always been the star of the Manchester Megalodons, beloved by his coach and looked up to by his teammates. He won’t stand for anyone stealing his limelight, especially Harry fucking Styles...

18) Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies | Explicit | 14860 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

“Of course you’d use your free time to go to the gym.”

“Your idea of the best way to spend your free time is annoying your neighbors,” he laughs, dimples carved into his cheeks like marble.

No, Louis likes to annoy Harry. Everyone else on this floor is just an unfortunate casualty.

“No one has complained except for you,” Louis informs him smartly. Which is actually a good thing. If someone other than Harry had complained to him long ago, he would have unfortunately had to stop.

19) Pleasure Over Matter | Explicit | 15204 words

Harry is a bit out of his element, and an unsuspecting stranger provides him temporary relief.

20) I Been Feeling High When I Touch Your Body | Not Rated | 16946 words

Harry is a boxer, Louis is an architect and Liam is the worst cupid that could ever exist.

21) The Dream That You Wish | Explicit | 21543 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Disneyland!AU where the park's Peter Pan is rumoured to be fooling around with Prince Charming in the castle. There's also Baymax desperately trying to capture the heart of Pooh Bear while shift manager boyfriends Niall and Shawn are tired of watching it all go down in the happiest place on Earth.

22) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

It’s like all week, Harry is a normal person. Him and Louis don’t know each other, don’t acknowledge each other but if they did, it would be with disdain. Then on Sundays, they gravitate towards each other without fail.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

23) Etched in Salt (Is a Cathedral of the World) | Explicit | 24416 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

24) Sweet Dreams Are Made of This | Mature | 30004 words

Loosely based on The Wedding Date. Inspired by 27 Dresses. Basically, Fake Boyfriend AU with a twist. Louis' sister is unknowingly getting married to the ex who broke his heart. When faced with the prospect of turning up alone, Louis panics and hires a corporate escort named Harry. General chaos and epic jealousy ensues.

25) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

26) Long Road To Ruin | Explicit | 38655 words

Note: This BL Exchange fic was posted in December, but it wasn’t made public until January. That’s why we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

"I remember thinking I would have done anything you ever asked me to do, without reserve. I was a fool to think that maybe you’d grow to do the same for me." Or the one where two people can be in love but not belong to each other.

27) I Just Wanna Get Back to Us | Mature | 62131 words

Where Harry and Louis are divorced soulmates who are seeing each other for the first time in two years.

28) Non-Disclosure | Mature | 170219 words

Being a world class Director, producing some of the best rated Romance movies to date, Louis was easily a sucker for the ‘Happy Ever After’.

Except, in a world where he pretends and imagines true love. He was stuck inbetween what he thought was the love of his life and everything trying to stop them.

"I did a lot of thinking when I was gone and every scenario I came up with ended with you. I'm fucking scared and I have no idea what will happen from now but I'd risk it all, if you could promise me a lifetime"

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[bomberqueen17]

weak end

It’s always sort of notable for me to have a weekend that isn’t spent driving, so I was a bit glad of that. But I had a lot to get done this weekend.

The thing is, sometimes I can still kind of skate along on my sister’s household’s executive function when I’m not there. I hit a bump when I first got home and discovered the myriad... science experiments, where I had left a functional kitchen, but I was buoyed up later by discovering he’d cleaned out the fridge, and had done all kinds of other important things, like make his first dental appointment in this millennium (I might be exaggerating but not by much) (I am not in any better shape) and flush the new water heater, and get himself a physical, and all that. I wish he could help me do some of those things, but that’s kind of. It was hard enough for him to do it, so whatever. Also make the cat a vet appointment... for this morning at 8 am... boy oh boy. Oh well, it’s fine.

what i did this weekend, mostly so I recall:

Saturday I did All Of The Laundry except one load. We’re to the time of year where it’s cool enough that some things don’t get dry in a day on the line-- a heavy sweatshirt and some other long-sleeved garments were still quite damp when I took them in after nine hours outdoors, but they finished drying on hangers just fine.

I also had said, look, you’re working at the table on the back porch which is not heated, that seems silly, let’s focus on cleaning off the kitchen table. So I started, half-heartedly, and then Dude sat down and actually sorted through all the rest of it. And then when he was done I used a scrub brush on the vinyl tablecloth, and then used a sponge, and then used a towel, and then rotated the tablecloth to use a different part of it, because. Well. The table gets silted in and somebody among us doesn’t believe in wiping stuff down ever, and that somebody lives in this house every day while the one of us who knows how a sponge works doesn’t, so.

So now he can work at the kitchen table, and we can eat there.

I also made him go through the box of shoes I’d pulled out to ask if he wore anymore. He’d said no, but then I was like, okay, so which of them did you never wear, so they can be donated, and which of them are garbage? 

His response to that was to put the still-okay shoes in the donation box, and then give me the box that was garbage. Which is not throwing it away, but ok. I walked it out to the garbage, and then I guess to make it worth my while I stole the shoelaces out that were still in good shape. The rest of them, though-- you can’t recycle mixed rubber and fabric, there’s nothing to do but throw them out. It’s fine, that’s what a landfill or incinerator is actually intended to handle. 

I have been making my way through my own shoes-- I have a lot of sneakers from over the years, and many of them I wore as a waitress, so the vast majority of use was indoors, which means it’s subtle-- they’re not torn, or visibly dirty, and some of them look quite new, and if you put them on they seem fine, until you walk a little and realize the tread is quite worn and all the internal padding is crushed. So I’ve had to wear those around a little bit to determine it, but little by little I’m realizing, yes, all my sneakers are worn out and I’d be justified to buy some new ones, since I’m having orthopedic problems stemming from my feet. 

Anyway-- that evening we went out to a restaurant and had a lovely dinner, somewhat notable for being in a neighborhood slightly beyond an invisible line of where we normally go and so at one point we were the only white people in the restaurant, which is really notable because like many Northern cities, Buffalo is really really racially segregated and it took me working in a photography store (photography is one of those hobbies that on the level of like, the proletariat, is universal and not confined to any racial or ethnic groups-- everybody takes photos) to finally realize how many Black people live here and I just never saw any. I think it’s improving-- you see more different kinds of people all around, I think?-- but then, I don’t know that, it just seems like it. (We did used to have Black neighbors and don’t anymore, but that’s such anecdata it’s hard to nail down. We’re the kind of white where we don’t talk to our neighbors, so we wouldn’t know. Listen my neighbors used to verbally abuse me over the fence when we first moved in [not the Black ones!] and so that taught me not to be friendly.]) Anyway, it was startling to me, to look around and realize that. (Ironically enough, we had nearly not gone to the restaurant, because the name contained the word G*psy and I know that’s a racial slur. I guess these things are complicated. I’ll rec it to people but not by name!)

Sunday morning we got up early and went grocery shopping. Groceries have become Dude’s job, largely because he spent a while waiting until I arrived home exhausted from the farm and then springing on me that there was literally nothing in the house, and to his credit it only took me bursting into tears like twice for him to notice that this bothered me. Anyway-- the problem/benefit of this is that while I grew up making very infrequent Supply Runs Into The City and thus have this mentality of Buy Everything You Might Need In The Next Month when you go out to the Stores, Dude shops with a list and buys only what’s on that list with no thought processes of things like, hmm, that recipe called for two sticks of butter and I know we only buy it in sets of four and I bet there’s not that much really left, butter’s not on this list but it also doesn’t go bad fast, maybe I’ll just grab a package of it on speculation, and it took some training for him to be like, sometimes we like to have a little something in the house to eat before dinner’s ready, maybe i should buy some potato chips or something and even that, the result is always i will buy one bag of Tostitos and never couldn’t hurt to get some pretzels too so we often run out on like, Wednesday.

Anyway, I’d had the thought that maybe I should get some frozen burritos or Hot Pockets or something (ok i’ve never eaten a pocket in my life, hot or otherwise, and don’t think i’m ready to start now) so I could have something on hand for days when there’s nothing else to bring for lunch, and so he said well I’m not going to just find you something, you gotta come poke through the offerings at least this first time. 

So we went together to the grocery store, and I made the condition that I’d go but I absolutely would not do what he does, which is always laze around until exactly two hours before the Bills game starts, and then go in a manner that seems calculated to align with the grocery store’s maximum occupancy for the week. No-- I will only go before 9 am, or after 2 pm. (the game started at 1.)

So we got out of the house at 8:45 and sure enough, there was parking, the crowds were manageable, and we left as the parking lot was filling up. 

And I thought to buy butter, which was good because the one recipe I was making called for two and a half sticks, and the other called for a stick, and we only had two sticks in the whole house. 

In the early afternoon I went into work, as I think I detailed on here already, or maybe over on DW. Lots of things, I just wanted to get some stuff done. Weirdly, the store manager, who does not have any kind of supervisory capacity over me, was like, psyched I was there and complimented my work ethic. I was like... I’m hourly, and I’m punched in, and I’m actually a little worried my own supervisor will frown on this, but I wanted to get it done so I wouldn’t worry Monday morning. Shrug. As it happened, the vet appointment for the cat was literally ten minutes and I arrived to work my customary 20 minutes early this morning, so I needn’t have worried, but I know if I hadn’t I’d’ve gotten here late and been frazzled to all hell. 

The pleasant reward for going in on Sunday is that I was able to walk to work on what was a beautiful day, and halfway there realize that no, these sneakers aren’t any good either. Then I walked up to the nicest ice cream parlor in town, and Dude walked from home to meet me there-- we arrived, despite my inability to time things, at precisely the same moment. We had wonderful sundaes, and then walked home together. (Dude had brought me my other sneakers, and I realized those were no good either, but that was two pairs of shoes in a single outing that I managed to pare down, so like. I guess that was good.) 

I’m not even screwing around at work as I write this, Windows Update is being a turd and I’m sitting here watching it. Yikes. 

So in the evening, I did a bunch of cooking. I was going to make a tourtiere, which is a French Canadian kind of meat pie I’d read about on maybe Twitter? recently? and it sounded so good I had to try it out. I found this recipe and was like ok, probably that’s fine: [https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/261983/tourtiere-french-canadian-meat-pie/]

and I realized it was going to take hours, so I decided to make it for Monday’s dinner, and do the Instant Pot Butter Chicken for Sunday’s. Cooking two things at once is fine, especially when you manage to involve your partner.

It would have been flawless but for two things. 1) the recipe, linked above, has an absolute jackshit crust. Like... seven tablespoons of water? No. No. 7 Tbsp in 3 cups of flour gives you fucking flour. You can’t roll out fucking flour. I had to double the water, and even then it still was a crumbly mess of bullshit. So that was annoying. It’s not like I’ve never made a pie crust; I should have just made a pie crust from my mom’s or Dude’s grandma’s recipe, and I’d’ve been fine. But I thought maybe their method is important to the pie, y’know? No, it was horse shit. Fuck that recipe. It was a huge pain in my ass and had no reason to be; the rest of the recipe is wonderful. I even realized, I own a beautiful, Longaburger pottery deep-dish pie plate, which is now vintage I guess, I’ve just discovered the company’s gone. Alas! It’s lovely, and has been tucked away in a cupboard, and I’m positive my mother bought it for me new sometime around when I first moved into this house, and I’ve quite possibly never used it. I’m so glad I remembered to look and see if I had anything like it. 

Anyway.

The other big flaw?

My fucking Instant Pot died. It worked fine on sauté, I got the aromatics in there, and meanwhile seared the chicken in a frying pan (I adapted the Famous IP Keto Butter Chicken recipe to have some vegetables in it, which is probably heresy, but I like vegetables and it seems dumb to make the recipe as written when you have the chance to not do that), and got it all dumped in there together-- everything but the spices was from the farm, that was kind of exciting actually-- and it came up to pressure and went, and then I wasn’t really paying attention, it beeped that it was done, and then when I went to release the pressure it had already cooled off enough to release itself, which I thought was weird. 

And I pulled the chicken out-- I’d just used an entire half-chicken, instead of thighs like it calls for, because I have that, and went to carve it, and-- it was raw in the middle. 

Part of me thought, well, this has happened before-- a half chicken takes a lot longer to cook than I expect it should, and I should’ve given it more time probably, this is my fault. But part of me was like, how is half a chicken still partly raw after fifteen minutes on high pressure, I can do a whole one in twenty every time.

So I cut it up and threw it back in and programmed it to do five more minutes on high, and it accepted the program, and then instead of displaying a time countdown, it just said “ON”. I let it go, because I was finishing the pie, but when I was done it had been twenty minutes and it still just said “ON”. Given that the thing was pretty much at a boil when it started, it should have come up to pressure in no time? 

I tried several different settings, and each of them just said “ON”, and even the saute function would not heat up at all.

So I dumped the entire mess into the frying pan I’d just finished making the pie filling in, and just simmered it there for a further 35 minutes while I finished up with the top pie crust and dealing with the jackshit pie recipe and so on.

So we ate pretty late, and I’m upset about the Instant Pot-- I got it last Christmas, but is it under warranty? It’s clear I didn’t do anything to it, it quit mid-meal. I don’t know what to do about it. It was a gift, so. 

Anyhow, I persevered, and now there’s a cold tourtiere in the fridge for tonight, and enough Pseudo Butter Chicken (Stovetop Version) in the fridge/freezer for leftovers for a million years. 

It was a lot. It was a stressful afternoon. But I overcame it. I guess Windows Update is done so I ought to go do my actual office job now. Christ, Win 10, you are a pile.

[rhodesmystery]

Thanks for reblogging my new Ask! 😊 2, 8, 14, 15, 25

noooo thank you so much for making them up!!

2. How did you come up with your MC and Jacob’s backstory (family, where they’re from, their relationship with each other, etc.)?

Mostly when I realised that the borders are fake and nothing is real anymore since JKR has a twitter account. I was like BAM! their father could pass as a character on Mad Men, maybe has gang ties who knows we don’t talk about him much he’s just doing very well in America as a perfectly legal businessman. BAM! Jacob was born before the statute technically got overturned and his mother very nearly got into a lot of political drama because of it. BAM! Look at that, one conveniently burned off family tree member who now stole from his family and sunk the fortune into a grand amount of land. BAM! Second sight? Legilimency (which came later admittedly)?? We’re gonna connect some witches and wizards to each other to like nudge it in the direction. 

Literally just as HPHM started opening up more and more avenues, I took some artistic liberty with stuff and hunted through the wiki/pottermore for just. Stuff. I think it also helps that I don’t feel like I have to justify having some “OP” character/Mary Sue anymore because like??? So???? I don’t have anything to prove with Natasha. Bless her dumb ass. But the one thing I really relied on heavily as far as Natasha and Jacob goes is the age difference. For my Jacob, he’s born 1963, and Natasha isn’t born until 1972. So like they have the different wave interests, and like a lot of their relationship is kind of what they barely remember of each other. Natasha doesn’t know if she’s confusing the good and bad times with wishful thinking half the time, and Jacob (later) struggles to distinguish between the baby sister he left behind and the sure and confident girl he meets again.

I just dug my fingers into whatever I could find, said seeya later to anxiety over what I’ve created, and honestly enjoyed it far more than I potentially might’ve. 

8. Does your MC have any sentimental items?

Natasha is a very sentimental person, at the end of the day. Doesn’t like to admit it, but her room at the family manor in Scotland is chock full of random and mostly useless items that serve no purpose other than making the heart a little fonder. 

Highlights of the collection include a snitch that was given to Jacob by a fellow student after Slytherin’s biggest Cup win, one singular earring that was gifted by her uncle, Aquila, in the shape of a little star (she lost the other one; it caused much distress), and a very old and well loved record player that was given to Jacob by their father, that doesn’t work properly because of all the magic of course, but Natasha hauled it back over from America once they moved out to the manor full time. 

14. What is your MC’s fashion style?

Think Sharon Tate. Literally, Natasha’s honest style icon and pretty much the sole person I refer to most times. The open shirts and cut pants and plaid and silk and thin jewellery? Perfection. Literally I can’t even describe it just google her. 

15. What is your Jacob’s fashion style?

Look, men’s fashion is fantastic for the 70s and 80s in a sense it was great for that time but you look back and you’re like. Man. What the hell was going on? So whilst I do believe Jacob had some kind of passing phase of neon and tennis shoes, he probably ending up emulating his father a lot in terms of the neat suits and pull overs and cardigans and ties. Permanent business casual. Jacob is very prim and proper about his appearance and would like to forget just what he was wearing as a young teen, unaware of the ways of the world.

25. A song for your MC and Jacob?

Jacob grew up in America with the 70s as the song of his life. We’ve got him dancing with a tiny Natasha to Dancing Queen, belting out Grease in the middle of the hallway, a very dramatic rendition of Jolene to boot… Queen probably resonates very well with that era. Something like Somebody to Love or I Want To Break Free or even lmfao Bohemian Rhapsody just to really like encompass that late 70s kind of vibe yknow? Jacob’s Hogwarts run is from like 74-81. Track music from that timeline and it’ll probably be a gradual explanation of him.

Early 80s kind of vibe for when their relationship really just. Disappears in a way? Jacob goes missing, Natasha gets all his vinyls. They don’t know how to explain it to their muggle/no-maj family. A bit of Tiny Dancer, a bit of London Calling. Blondie really probably resonated (especially Call Me), maybe some Joan Jett lmfao. Whilst Natasha didn’t spend her teens in Manhattan, London was her best friend. 

And I have to give an absolute mention to Don’t You (Forget About Me) because what is childhood/teenage life without the crippling fear of being forgotten and left behind, set to a catchy track that featured in just about everything during that pinpoint of your life.

Honestly Spotify playlists like all out 70′s/80′s are the discography to both Jacob and Natasha’s own lives just about lmfao I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried I just kept clicking through like wow! WOW!

[1833outboy]

A question from each album! Moving Pictures, Homesick at Space Camp, A Little Less Sixteen Candles, Golden, 27, Young Volcanoes, Favorite Record, Wilson!

moving pictures: what’s your favourite art form?

idk, i honestly admire anyone who can make any kind of art tbh, considering how much i suck at it

homesick at space camp: what do you blast when you’re angry?

tttyg, futct. certain muse songs. 

a little less sixteen candles, a little more “touch me”: favourite fall out boy mv? 

the youngblood chronicles (uncut longform). or if that’s not allowed, this ain’t a scene

golden: do you prefer fall out boy’s upbeat songs or the more emotional ones?

uhhh both? like i love the (after) life of the party, Xo and disloyal order, which are very emo - but also kinda upbeat? they’re songs i wanna shout and dance too simultaneously idk. probably the more emotional tho, i guess

27: favourite instrument?

i’ve always wanted to learn piano. i had a trumpet as a kid and took lessons, but always kinda hated it. but then as a teenager i had a keyboard and taught myself songs on it and loved that. i wish i’d actually took up piano lessons or something

young volcanoes: acoustics or a cappella?

acoustic, i guess

favourite record: do you collect vinyls or cds? 

i started to collect muse cds as a teenager since i was obsessed with them from 2006 through to like, 2014. i have cds of their more recent albums just for the collection, even tho i obviously do not need them anymore. other than that, no. never been too interested. i don’t have much money and can’t justify the cost tbh.

wilson (expensive mistakes): if you could purchase one thing being advertised in the wilson video, what would it be?

the fallout boys, of course. (i swear i’ll feed and walk them everyday. :D)

(also considering recent events, that ‘patent pending’ in the top centre is making me laugh)

thank you for the ask!

( fob asks )