#I'd love to learn cross stitch

[tinydiorama]

love love love your style! Would it be okay for me to convert a piece into a cross stitch pattern? took(for personal use only and with credit to you in any public posting)

hello! sorry for the late reply, I've been traveling. but yes, this is definitely ok! if you end up doing it, please send me a picture of the result, I'd love to see it!

[rosesradio]

complete moment of vulnerability rn but people freak out too much when ao3 is down and it gives off incredibly annoying entitled as fuck vibes i'm sorry

[factual-fantasy]

*Pulles out the Welcome Home Wiki and clears throat*

So, to start with, are there any elements of the Welcome home crew being a tv show? Any "neighbor" that Wally talks too?

Who would be the most likely to figure out Wally's house is alive? Can Home speak or are they limited to onomatopoeias?

Canonically, Wally can only do the Mash Potato, is your version of him a better or worse dancer? Is anyone particularly skilled at something you wouldn't think they'd be? (eg: Frank having mad crochet skills)

Who feels the most comfortable around Wally? Are any of the neighbors unerved by his sleep depreived behaviors at times?

If Poppy found Sally as a youngin, how did that happen on a scale of Thumbalina to Stitch?

How much of a jokster is Barnaby, has he ever gone too far with his jokes? What's his go to for lifting the spirits of his neighbors?

Does Julie love games just as much here? If so, how strict is she with the rules of them? Especially safety rules. Does she create new games often or stick with the same couple and occasionally introduce new ones as the current ones become less fun?

How much of a bug lover is Frank? Does it ever bother him that all his friends names end with -ly/ie and his last name does that instead of his first?

What is your current idea for Sally? More gremlin or fancy? Maybe a bit of both, reserving all her self-control for the stage?

Is Howdy's bugdega his most prized possession, or no more then it would be for a normal person? How receptive is he to jokes?

Would the town of Welcome Home still use Jokes are currency, or would you switch it to a more standard kind of money?

Hope that's enough for ya XD

XD I couldn't help myself, I interpreted that question about Franks name as a funny drawing prompt! XDD Now onto your other questions..

1: Are there any elements of the Welcome home crew being a tv show? Any "neighbor" that Wally talks too?

Nahh, there aren't any elements of their world being a show or a Y/N and/or neighbor that Wally talks too. Its just the neighbors and their world is very real to them! :0

2: Who would be the most likely to figure out Wally's house is alive? Can Home speak or are they limited to onomatopoeias?

I don't have any plans for anyone to find out Home is alive.. but if anyone ever did, Wally, Eddie and Barnaby would be good candidates. Wally because he lives there and is pretty sensitive to Home's energy. Eddie because he is very sensitive to homes energy.. and Barnaby, because he's really close to Wally and is looking in on this situation with a clear and level head. Perhaps he would notice things that Eddie and Wally are too scatterbrained to notice..

Also yes! :0 Home cannot speak and is limited to onomatopoeias!

3: Canonically, Wally can only do the Mash Potato, is your version of him a better or worse dancer?

I'd like to think my Wally is capable of learning new dances, but he's just not particularly interested.. <XD so yeah! Only the mashed potato for my Wally too XDD

4: Is anyone particularly skilled at something you wouldn't think they'd be?

I have a few in mind for surprising skills! My Barnaby is surprisingly good at sewing! He learned it from his mama 🥺💞💞 Julie is- well, to the surprise of the neighbors at least- really good at making campfires from scratch and other outdoorsy things! :0 And lastly, Eddie is known for being clumsy and forgetful.. but surprisingly he has fantastic handwriting. Beautiful cursive, perfectly spaced out, perfect punctuation, never smudges, all the "I"s are dotted and every "T" is crossed. He never has to erase and never spells anything wrong! Eddie doesn't know how he got so good at it.. Its just always been like that he says. hmm..

Technically Barnaby would feel the most comfortable around Wally, since they're best friends an all.. :0 But no one is uncomfortable around Wally due to his sleepy behaviors! The neighbors mostly feel pity for the poor guy.. it cant be fun to never get a good nights sleep..

5: Who feels the most comfortable around Wally? Are any of the neighbors unnerved by his sleep deprived behaviors at times?

6: If Poppy found Sally as a youngin, how did that happen on a scale of Thumbalina to Stitch?

I cant really remember the stories of Stitch and Thumbalina that well... but I'd say it might be more like Stitch..? <XD Sally was super excited to explore everything and go everywhere. So she was quite the handful! Like I think Stitch was..?

7: How much of a jokester is Barnaby, has he ever gone too far with his jokes? What's his go to for lifting the spirits of his neighbors?

Barnaby is a Sans level jokester XDD Fitting puns and jokes into almost every other sentence! But thankfully he's rather observant and doesn't ever go too far. He knows what jokes are and are not appropriate to say around certain neighbors. He also can tell if its a good or bad time to crack a joke.. when it comes to lifting the spirits of his neighbors.. his go-to will depend on the neighbor. For Howdy, Julie or Eddie, he just needs a few good jokes with maybe a sprinkle of life advice in there to get them smiling again.

For Poppy or Wally, his go-to is usually to talk to them rather seriously and figure out what's wrong..

If Poppy is upset, it usually because she's anxious about something. So Barnaby will try to figure out what's wrong so he can help her fix the problem or maybe comfort her if its worry over nothing..

If Wally is visibly upset, usually that means something is really wrong.. Barnaby probably wont let up in until he figures out what happened and is able to help his poor buddy..

8: Does Julie love games just as much here? If so, how strict is she with the rules of them? Especially safety rules. Does she create new games often or stick with the same couple and occasionally introduce new ones as the current ones become less fun?

I'd like to think that my Julie loves games too! :)) She is lenient on any and all rules if all the other players agree to it. In a way changing the rules creates a whole new game! But safety rules are no breakers! Gotta keep her friends safe after all! And I think Julie only switches it up and tries new games once her neighbors are bored with the current selection :00

9: How much of a bug lover is Frank?

Well considering my Frank moved to this neighborhood specifically so he could study and live alongside all the creepy crawlies there.. I'd says he loves them with all his heart! XDDD (Also never call them creepy crawlies around Frank, he hates that!)

10: What is your current idea for Sally? More gremlin or fancy? Maybe a bit of both, reserving all her self-control for the stage?

Right now I'm resisting the urge to make her a 100% chaotic gremlin <XDD Since I don't know if that fits her canon character very well.. I'm leaning more towards a passionate and sassy theater kid atm 🤣🤣🤣

11: Is Howdy's bugdega his most prized possession, or no more then it would be for a normal person? How receptive is he to jokes?

(AOIJASJFF I JUST GOT IT-- BUGDEGA XDD) Its his most prized possession! He treats it better than he does himself to be honest! <XDD And he has a great passion for the quality of the products he sells too!

As for jokes, my Howdy loves a good joke. There's a rumor if you make him laugh, he'll give you a discount! 👀👀

12: Would the town of Welcome Home still use Jokes are currency, or would you switch it to a more standard kind of money?

The canon uses jokes as currency?? :0 Huh.. I didn't know that, I intended to make my neighbors all have jobs. But I guess that begs the question, what jobs do they have.. I guess that's still a work in progress <XD

Anyways- thank you for all the questions! :DD These were a blast to answer, and I hope you had fun reading them! XDD

[zablife]

Being Benny's Girl Would Include

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: After creating a similar list for Johnny, I now have one for Benny. Ty to a lovely anon for requesting it!

Warnings: slightly nsfw, drinking, mention of injury, mention of a weapon

♡ There are many sleepless nights, worrying about him out on the open road. And you have good cause bc he's constantly returning to you bruised and bloodied.

♡ You learn how to dress wounds, even sew a few stitches, bc he's too stubborn to go to a hospital, preferring your gentle touch instead. "You're better than any damn doctor, sweetheart."

♡ If you pout when he returns, he'll try to make you forget how upset you've been with a bit of teasing that cleverly puts something else in the forefront of your mind. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

♡ When you're feeling clingy, he'll take you down to the bar with him, not giving a shit what the guys think when you leave lipstick on him or pluck the cigarette from his lips for a drag instead of lighting your own. In fact, he encourages your behavior, flipping his chair around in hopes your small hand will nestle into the back pocket of his Levi's.

♡ Benny's not much of a talker, but he opens up to you bc you're the first person who's ever really cared enough to ask the right questions. That makes him want to tell you things he's never said out loud. He confides the ring on his pinkie came from his granddaddy, the only real father figure he ever knew.

♡ He gifts the important possession to you as a sign of his devotion and his heart skips a beat when he thinks about how you wear it on a chain bc it would slip off your delicate finger too easily otherwise.

♡ You're his sweet girl, an angel so precious he has restless nights worrying about you amongst all the burly men in the rough bars and pool halls he frequents. His concerns over keeping you safe giving him full blown insomnia after Kathy is attacked at a house party.

♡ You'll prob find yourself in an empty field the next morning, caged in by Benny's muscular arms, holding his .38 in your trembling hands. Nodding toward the line of beer bottles in the distance as he softly instructs, "squeeze the trigger real slow as you exhale. You can do it, darlin'."

♡ You didn't see the need considering the protective way he drapes his arm over you, eyes cautiously scanning the room with a feral look in his eye. Everyone knows what it means. Touch her and you're a dead man.

♡ He's been known to take things too far, esp when he's drinking. Once a guy collided with you at the bar, spilling beer down your white dress and turning it sheer. The unlucky son of a bitch found himself on the street seconds later facing the broken end of the bottle inches from his throat.

♡ The novelty of having your honor defended loses its appeal with every trip to county. Benny senses it in your anguished sigh and furrowed brow when you come to bail him out, hanging his head shamefully the moment he catches sight of you.

♡ Since there's nothing he hates more than disappointing you, he tries to keep his impulses in check and focus on your needs. "You know I'd do anything for you, angel."

♡ Nothing made your heart race with excitement quite like the day he stole you away for a winding ride that ended under a magnificent orange sunset. When he removed his shirt to make love to you in the tall grass, you glimpsed your name freshly inked over his heart.

[writelikethrollope]

✨ writeblr intro ✨

It's been two minutes since I last did something like this, but here we go I guess. Hi! Welcome!

Personal Stuff

I'm Blue (but you can call me Gwen, if you prefer a "real" name). I'm 31 and your most normalest 9-5 office worker. I learned to read and write at 5 and, since then, never stopped doing either. Which is normal, I think. In middle school I used to write a lot of fanfiction, in high school started with personal stories that I never finished but kept alive throughout university. Eventually, I started working and my job fries my brain and I lost the habit. But if I don't write, the thoughts will inevitably remain trapped in my brain and rot there, which is not good. So, here I am.

Writing Stuff

In the past I used to write a lot of fantasy, some fanfictions (mostly about Fallout and Pillars of Eternity) and romance (I don't like to read it, but I like to write about people holding hands which I've always found weird). I've also tried my hand at writing fairy tales and children's stories - which is something that I actually enjoy a lot doing! But I currently have no idea what I'll be writing next. Exciting! :D

Media I like

The Mummy (1999), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Gravity Falls, Hazbin Hotel, Mass Effect, Stardew Valley, Scarlet Hollow, Portal & Portal 2, A Boy and His Dog, The Lord of the Rings, Stardust, Coraline, Jane Austen is probably my favourite author.

Other Stuff (in handy bullet points)

Blue is my favourite colour!

I love cross stitching and knitting

My native language is Italian

I enjoy gardening on my super small balcony (the basil is thriving though)

I like parenthesis (if you didn't notice)

Dragon enthusiast, but since they don't exist I choose cats as my favourite animal

Feel free to interact and message/comment under posts! :) I'd love to find people to discuss the whole ordeal of writing with (and I gladly listen to OCs rambles!).

[yesbutmakeitgay]

The Anesthetic Never Set In

GIF by femaledaily

Carol Danvers x Reader

We’ve Loved A Thousand Lives

Same beginning, different story every time.

Part 5

Angst with a happy ending, Injuries, Exes. Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling 💜

Word count: 1.6k

Masterlist | This collection | AO3

Captain Marvel walks back into her ship after another successful mission wanting for nothing more than to relax and rest until she senses someone else’s presence in her space home.

She walks slowly, pointing one of her lit up fists in a general forward direction, "I know you’re in here, who are you? Who sent you?" she warns the intruder.

She turns the lights on to find you, supporting all your weight on the kitchen counter. Her brows furrow in confusion, "You?" Her tone is displeased, but not quite angry.

"I didn't know where else to go," you mumble back, she feels a little embarrassed she felt threatened by her ex, "trust me, I would rather die than ask for help," you say through gritted teeth, trying to keep the pain from taking over you.

She remains standing by the doorway as she takes in your state, your whole body is scattered with bruises and cuts, and you are clearly bleeding out of somewhere, "So you came to me?"

"Thought I'd let you kill me instead, I know you've been waiting a long time to do that," you joke.

"That's a lot of blood." She quickly walks over to help you.

"I was thinking the same thing, but then, I wasn't sure if it's mine," you slur in your loopy state, suddenly feeling lightheaded, and letting your body fall onto Carol.

"It is definitely yours, come on," she assures as she takes you to the small medical room Fury forced her to set up if she ever wanted to have Kamala on board again.

She lays you down on the bed and begins patching you up, "What happened to you?"

"Nothing, I’m fine," you quickly bite back.

 "Wanna try that again?" she coaxes as she wraps up a deep cut in your forearm.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Later, then." The atmosphere isn't awkward or bitter, she's just trying to help you like she would any of her teammates.

She finally lifts your shirt to address the source of your heavy bleeding, after disinfecting it, she realizes you're gonna need stitches, "I don't have any anesthesia, sorry." She does the job as fast and careful as she can to minimize your discomfort, but maybe she enjoys inflicting pain on you a little, if only because it's necessary.

She finishes cleaning up the rest of your wounds and lets you rest for the night, though you find it difficult to sleep in the dismal room.

The next morning, she comes to you at 6:30, and you're already awake, "Missed me?" you snark, feeling slightly better.

Carol gives you an eye roll, it seems her kind energy was all spent the day before and she has no more left, "I need to know where to drop you off."

To be honest, you hadn't thought this far ahead, "I don't know, where are you going?"

"On my way to New Asgard."

"I'll come with," you respond without even considering it.

She crosses her arms, "Aren't you banned from entering?"

You had forgotten about that small detail, "That's none of your business." Turns out if you ghost a King, they don't like it when you try to visit their land again, you learned that the hard way.

She puts her arms up in fake surrender, "Fine, we land in 10 hours, you'd better be able to walk by then." This isn't how she imagined reuniting with you would be, but alas, she begins to leave.

"Hey," you blurt out making her turn on her feet, there's a sparkle in her eyes that you're too drowsy to notice, "do you have, like, food?"

She sighs, "Sure, I'll bring something down for you."

After a few minutes she brings your favorite, you don't know if it was on purpose, or if she even remembers, but it makes you all fuzzy inside.

Hours later you hear the ship's voice announce the prompt arrival to New Asgard, so you make your way to the entrance, groaning and limping with every step. Carol is already there, all suited up and ready to go.

She gives you a once over, you're bleeding through your bandages, and her dubious stitch work is showing under your shirt, "You don't have to come, I can take you to the Avengers compound later, I’m sure Fury will let you back in," she hesitates, feeling somewhat responsible for you now.

"I would rather die twice than go to the Avengers," you groan.

"Yeah, well, Valkyrie is not gonna let you set foot in New Asgard, and I’m not letting you die on my ship, so just wait a few hours, then you can be Fury's problem." You deflate slightly, accepting defeat, "There’s more food in the fridge if you can make it to the kitchen," she snarks.

"Thanks." It's not just about the food, she's gone out of her way to help you, to care for you, you didn't expect even a fraction of what she's doing when you first arrived.

You watch Carol exit and wait for the door to close before dropping on the couch, succumbing to the pain, eventually drifting off to sleep.

You wake up to Carol cursing from the control panel, "Keep it down," you mumble instinctively.

She comes out to stand in front of you, "The engine isn't starting, we're stranded."

"We're not stranded, this is basically your second home."

"You're right, I’m not stranded, you are," she asserts with a cocky smirk, you look up at her with exhausted eyes.

She takes some pity on you, knowing you aren't in a position to be of use. She goes back down to get help, and re enters with The King of New Asgard following her closely while you remain rotting on the couch.

Valkyrie glances at you from the corner of her eye, and her features immediately turn to disgust as she tries her best to ignore you. She tails Carol down to the engine to see what the problem is.

The next time you wake up, you're cruising somewhere in space, it looks like they fixed the ship, and you didn't have to piss Valkyrie off by existing near her any longer.

Your body feels different, so you try to figure out why. All of your bandages are a lot cleaner than you remember, seems Carol took advantage of your nap to change them.

Upon noticing you're awake, The Captain brings breakfast to the couch, she sets a tray on the coffee table as you fight for your life to sit up.

"Didn't you also date Valkyrie?" you ask, breaking the silence.

Carol chuckles, "I wouldn't call what you did 'dating,' but yes, briefly."

"Twinsiesss," you exclaim out of nowhere, making Carol scrunch up her nose.

"Don't use that word, only Kamala can speak to me like that."

"When did you become such a hard ass?"

"That's not it, I just don't like young people lingo."

"How old do you think I am?"

"I know how old you are!" The playful banter helps you both feel a lot more at ease with each other.

"What happened to us? We were so good together," you muse in a more serious tone.

"We were terrible together," she counters, still with a smile on her face.

"That is not true, we had fun!" you bargain.

"Not everything is about fun."

You take a sip of your coffee, "Come on, you never miss me?"

"Nope."

"Never ever?"

She bites her lip, "Maybe sometimes it gets lonely up here."

"Would you say you get bored?"

She scoffs, "My job is way too interesting,"

"Your job of punching bad guys?"

"My job of saving galaxies!"

You side eye her with a grin, "Is that on your resume?"

"Perhaps." She returns your cocky look.

"Right next to 'great strap game'?" you tease, she playfully elbows you right on your stitches, "Ow, what the hell!" you scream in real pain.

She covers her gasp with her hand, "I’m so sorry!"

"Are you trying to make it look like an accident?" you snark through the discomfort.

"It's your fault, don't make sex jokes."

"What a prude, it's not even a joke, I could ask Valkyrie, and we could take a vote."

"Oh, please, you'd be toast before you even set both feet on the ground," Carol changes the subject, "what did you do to her, anyway?"

"Nothing!"

"She can't even bare the sight of you because you did 'nothing'?"

Suddenly, you shrink, "She wanted things to get serious and I didn't," you clear your throat, Carol raises her eyebrows prompting you to continue, "so I stopped picking up her calls," you slur.

"Why on Earth would you do that?" she scolds you.

"Because I couldn't get over you." It comes out as a whisper.

After a moment, Carol gets up to put the dirty dishes on the sink. You slowly follow to help her, you're more than struggling, but you feel like you must give back in some way.

"I really didn't want to come to you, there's just something comforting about your ship. I mean, I'd rather not be bleeding out of multiple parts of my body, but if I have to, this is a nice place to do it."

"I’m sure your blood is scattered on every surface of this place," Carol smiles, reminiscing about all your past missions together.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." She knows it’s not your fault being human.

"I was reckless, but I’m not anymore," you assure her.

"So, what exactly happened to you?"

You suck on your teeth, avoiding eye contact, "I was reckless." She decides not to push the subject further.

"Did you?" she pries, turning around after she finishes doing the dishes, "Get over me?"

"I—no," you admit bashfully.

"I don't want to kill you, you know?" she hesitates, "I don’t blame you for what happened to us."

"That's nice to hear." You hope deep in your heart that she means it.

She gently holds your hand, "It just wasn't the right time, but maybe it is now."

[eden-has-rotted]

Finally doing an intro post!!

Hi!

-Who Am I?-

The user formally known as edenexxe

I'm Eden!

I have ADHD and most likely autism (and probably a specific subtype of ocd but that's for me to unpack later)

My gender is up to reader interpretation

he/him/they/them, but idc if you use she/her if the comedic timing is right

super awesome gorgeous boyfriend !!!

-Where Am I?-

I'm in the EST timezone

-Music?-

My music taste would be classified as goth and punk, but I am also a huge fan of post-hardcore

The list of bands I listen to contains but is not limited to:

My Chemical Romance, The Cure, Pierce the Veil, Siouxsie & the Banshees, & Green Day

I am a musician, and I play the flute! I am also currently learning bass (guitar)!! And I'd like to say that my singing voice isn't half-bad. In the fall, I am in my school's marching band!

-Hobbies?-

I enjoy doing different kinds of art, but my go-to would have to be traditional art and painting of different kinds.

I also enjoy DIY of all kinds (I have a battle jacket and vest that are parts of my soul)

I love to cross stitch, and am currently working on a giant TCFSR pattern!

I run @identifying-mcr-shows !!

-What Can You Expect Me To Post?-

Mostly MCR stuff. Other than that, I'd say art stuff, random thoughts, and reblogs.

Please tag me in stuff! I love doing chains, so feel free to tag me in music/picrew/whatever chains!! And feel free to send me stuff! My ask box is always open!!

-DNIs?-

Bigotry of any kind (racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, you know the drill)

-

Nice to meet you!!

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Kento Nanami x Reader

Kento Nanami:

You love hard working men, your favorite thing in the world is bread and you would love to take a relaxing vacation trip if you had some time off.

First Date:

You exited the bakery, holding a fresh sandwich in your hand. You found a bench to sit down on and then nibbled some of the bread. You then began to notice some birds near you. "Hey little guys. I bet you're hungry." You broke off a piece of your sandwich. "Here. Take some." They happily chirped back, thankful for some crumbs. Everything was going fine until you noticed a young boy coming towards your way.

He was holding something. Some sort of stick maybe? He then began to try and swat the birds. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? STOP IT!" He continued to slash, smiling while doing so. Before you could do anything, someone had stopped him. It was a large blonde man. You couldn't help but blush from how attractive he was. 'He's more packed then the bakery...'

You then stopped your drooling as you noticed that he was yelling. "-and if you think about trying this again then I'll make sure to not only to inform you parents, but the police as well!" He then let go of the child and they dropped to the ground and scrambled off. "Pardon me, I didn't mean for you to see that. If you'll just excuse me." You grab his hand. "Wait! I'd like to ask you something actually. What do you think of meeting up at the bakery next time? Let me pay as thanks for saving those birds!"

You then learned the man was named Kento Nanami. You grew closer over the next few months and began to learn more about each other. He had left his previous job to start teaching. Adorable. Despite being stoic he was really just a big softie. You thought it was sweet that he cared for his students as they were his own.

One day you received the worst call imaginable. It was your boyfriend. All you knew was that there was a fire and that he was in critical condition. You made it to the hospital as fast as you could. He was in stable condition but his body had been badly burnt on one side and he had lost partial vision. The nurse then left the two of you alone. You would ask why she had stitches on her forehead but you were far more concerned about the man laying next to you.

You went to the untouched part of his face and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Don't worry. We'll get through this, I swear! I promise that we'll both go to Malaysia once you're in better condition!" Once he was stable enough, the two of you talked with some investigators. It turns out the arsonist was well known to the police but they had no leads on him yet. They showed you a photograph and asked if you recognized him. Nope. You would definitely notice someone if they went around looking like Frankenstein.

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

It was now six months later and Nanami was ready to be discharged. You helped push his wheelchair, understanding that this new way of life would not be an easy adjustment. You looked down at his face. "I'll always love you." He shed a few tears and you brushed them aside. You were definitely booking tickets to a five star hotel in Malaysia tonight.

Just as the two of you were crossing the road, a large vehicle came heading your way. "TRUCK KUUUUUUUN!!!" the driver shouted. Wait a minute. You recognized this guy. This was the asshole that did this to your boyfriend! He then began to sing. "GAS, GAS, GAS, I'M GONNA STEP ON THE GAS!"

You tried to react but it was now too late. Nanami pushed you out of the way, sacrificing himself. You survived but at what cost? You looked back in horror, only seeing Kento's lower remains and you began to sob. The man got out of the truck and looked directly at the reader. "I guess he's half the man he used to be! That's all folks!"

[mathysphere]

Hiya! since you seem quite knowledgeable about this sort of thing, do you happen to know a good place to start when learning how to cross-stitch? I've never tried it before (nor have I done a lot of needlework) but I've been drawn to it due to the similarities it shares with pixel art. I have looked up starter kits and the like but they tend to be focused on topics that are rather... eh. boring to me unfortunately.

Oh heck yea! Yeah, lemme grab some links and info--

Luckily, cross-stitch is really easy to do-- you get some special fabric that's woven so it makes a grid, a blunt needle, a pattern, and whatever thread colors the pattern needs, and then you just stitch a whole bunch of X's and you're done!

The best fabric to start with would be called '14-count Aida'; a lot of big-box craft stores carry it, plus smaller embroidery stores should too. '14-count' is the size of the grid, and means every square inch of the cloth is woven to make a 14 by 14 grid, and Aida is a common variety. It's nice and stiff, so you may not even need to put it in a hoop, though you can still use one if you'd like.

If you get 14-count fabric, get a Size 24 Tapestry Needle. I wouldn't use a sharp needle, though you could if you have to-- a blunt one like a tapestry needle will be a lot kinder on your hands!

I'd recommend starting with a small, simple pattern in a design that you really like. Like, say, something like these would be pretty good to start:

[All You Need is Love by JuicyArtByDarina][Euler's Identity by StitchForge]

...while these might end up being too ambitious:

[Saturn V Rocket by SpiritLineDesigns] [The Elements According to Relative Abundance, also by SpiritLineDesigns apparently? Man, that's some good range]

That's just a recommendation, though-- you know your own patience for long projects better than I do, so if you see something you love, go for it!

No matter what pattern you get, it should always have a list of thread colors in it: the standard type is DMC embroidery floss, which you can also get at embroidery stores, some of the big-box craft stores, and also online. The pattern should also say how big the design will be, but when you buy your fabric be sure to get something with some extra room. I typically aim for three or four inches bigger than the design, just to be extra safe.

Once you've got those-- plus a pair of scissors, and also a hoop, if you'd like one-- then you're ready to stitch! For that part, I'll defer to Peacock and Fig and her video tutorials, since I reckon it's easier to follow that part if you can see just how the stitches actually happen.

The stitching itself is super easy-- it's all just makin' X's.

Hope this helps! ✌️

[hyperfixatingmenever]

Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams | Part 2/2 | 8.5 K | Mature

Title: Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams 

Fandom: Triple Frontier  

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/ Reader

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 8.5K

Cross-posted on Ao3 here

A/N: I wrote part 1 (which I'd recommend reading first) for @theassbuttchronicles back in 2021, but I also wrote a dream that didn't make the final cut, which broke my heart because it was actually the first thing I wrote for the fic. BUT three years later, I've finally finished the fic! I hope everyone can enjoy it, but more importantly, experience the emotional turmoil of the dream with me! lol

"Son of a bitch!"

A sharp, stinging feeling shot through Frankie's hand; he had sliced it open while working on one of the helos he flew for instructing. The cut on Frankie's hand didn't feel like an emergency, but considering he knew you were working, and he cut it on metal, he thought, two birds, one stone. While holding pressure on his hand, he glanced around, looking for some type of fabric to help with the bleeding. The only thing within reach was his dirty, greasy hand rag. He rolled his eyes, knowing the lecture that was in store for him when you saw him. Accepting his fate, he wrapped his hand and headed over to the base clinic.

As he walked into the ER, he saw you busy working, bouncing between helping patients and other staff. He saw you smile and laugh with a fellow army medic. Your smile could light up his darkest days, and it had before. Without knowing, Frankie started to smile, feeling your warmth from across the room.

Out of his daze, he walked up to the registration desk. The sitting area was nearly empty, with only a couple of people since it was already late in the afternoon.

"Hi, Francisco Morales, 75-585-468."

"Frankie! What are you doing here?"

Picking up his head, he looks into your piercing eyes as you walk towards him. He lifted his hands clasped together, showing his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh Jesus"

Leaning forward, you tell the nurse at the registration desk to not worry about it, ‘I'll take care of him.’

Blush starts to rise a little in his cheeks, but he looks down and hides his face under his favourite 'standard heating oil' cap.

"Come on, Frankie, follow me," motioning to follow you down the hallway to a more private room.

"Okay, let me take a look at it."

Taking a deep breath, Frankie releases the pressure and shows you his hand.

"Jesus, Frankie, is this a dirty rag?"

"I couldn't find anything else!"

He waited for you to give him shit, but he saw you take a deep breath and say, "I'm just happy you're okay. I worry about you."

As you cleaned out the wound, you also ordered a tetanus shot and eventually gave him a couple of butterfly stitches.

"You know there are mechanics on base. It's literally their job to keep all the machinery running. Why are you doing repairs to your own helo?"

"Because I know more than most of those idiots! I don't want to be in deep water just because one of those hijos de puta tontos forgot to do something. If I'm going to take 33,000 pounds of metal up into the sky, I sure as hell want to know it's up to snuff."

He can feel the crease in between his eyebrows as he starts to get angry, but that soon melts away as you jokingly massage it with your pointer finger.

“Well, look at you! Flying and fixing, how did you become a jack of all trades?" You softly chuckled.

“Well, my Abuelo could fix anything, but he loved fixing cars and planes in particular. With my mom always busy at work, I spent most of my time with him in the garage, or we would drive to a hangar and fix up a plane. I started out by just handing him tools, but eventually, I learned everything he knew, and I started helping him when I got older."

"Awe, I bet baby Frankie was cute! All covered in grease."

"Are you saying I'm not cute now?" Frankie says in a teasing tone, even though some part of him is completely serious. He wanted even a small piece of hope that could show that you cared about him the same way he cared about you.

He sees you roll your eyes as you start to bandage his hand.

"You know I’m not always going to be here to help with your cuts and bruises, right?"

"But I don’t know what I'd do without my favourite medic," Frankie shoots back, giving his go-to smirk — trying to cover up the hurt around the idea of you somehow not being in his life anymore.

The two of you talk as you continue to wrap his hand. Talk about Rebecca and that horrendous date. In the small silence, Frankie lets slip. "She just wasn't the one.”

Honestly, he knew that even before the date because 'the one' for him was carefully bandaging his hand. The one who worried about him. The one who took care of him. The one standing in front of him.

You finally break the silence, showing that you've finished with his hand. He thanked you, and you both walked toward the nurses’ station. Frankie thinks about how easy it would be to hold your hand as your fingers innocently brushed up against each other while walking. Instead, he just keeps walking down the hall as you stop at the nurse's station.

Stopping in his tracks, he remembers movie night and turns back towards you.

"HEY, MI CIELO! Don't forget movie night at my place on Friday!"

Frankie can't help but smile while leaving, thinking about you and your threat of physical violence toward Benny. Man, he couldn't wait for Friday night.

-----

"What do you mean you're not coming!"

"Allison finally agreed to let me take her on a date, but she's only free tonight."

"Wait, who's Allison? Is she the one with red hair or the one who never stops showing pictures of her hikes?"

"Neither"

"Pope, I can't keep up with you," he rubbed his face and groaned as he continued to push the cart with his elbows. "You can't cancel Pope! Will and Benny both canceled this morning! If you don't come, it will just be Cielo and me!"

"Maybe that's for the best'' Santi's playful tone came from the other side of the phone.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He retorts gruffly, already done with his best friend’s shit.

"You and I both know you’ve been dancing around your feelings for her since day one; maybe you should buck up and make a move Hermano."

"I can't! What if she doesn't feel the same way? I can't lose my best friend."

"Best friend? I'm hurt, Hermano. I thought what we had was special."

Frankie can imagine Santi dramatically clutching his heart. "You know what I mean," rolling his eyes at this whole conversion.

"Well, I still can't come. So I hope you two have a good time. I'll talk to you later. Good luck!"

And before Frankie could respond, Santi had hung up on him.

Frankie puts his phone in his back pocket as he continues to wander the aisles. He looked down at his cart full of groceries, snacks, and drinks. Even though it was now just the two of you tonight, the amount of food he got could feed a small army.

As Frankie heads towards the till, he's distracted by the flower section. He couldn't buy you flowers, right? Unless? No. It was already going to be weird, just the two of you; the last thing he wanted to do was ever make you feel uncomfortable. As Frankie lost himself in thought, an older man came up beside him and said, "She must be a special girl."

Tongue-tied, Frankie didn't know what to say. She was a special girl, but she was more than that. She also wasn't his girl. He didn't know what to do.

"My Winifred's favourite was tulips."

He reached down and grabbed a small thing of pink tulips. Giving them a light shake as he took them out of the water.

"It never hurts to surprise them with flowers, make them feel appreciated. They do so much for us, always caring for us."

He was right; even though he and Cielo weren't together, they always took care of each other.

Giving Frankie a small clap on his bicep, "And don't forget to always cherish her."

Frankie gave a small smile and nodded as the old man walked away. Frankie looked at the flowers for another second before picking up some sunflowers and continuing towards the till.

-----

The day slowly progressed; he put everything away and placed the sunflowers in water on the kitchen table. He wouldn't give them to you, but they reminded him of your smile. He made fresh popcorn with butter before running off upstairs to change.

"FRANKIE?"

Hearing you call his name while walking into his house always felt like a dream. He could imagine you walking into the home you shared together, calling his name, declaring your arrival. He would hug you and pepper you with kisses as you came home.

The night that this felt closest to the truth was one random Tuesday. It was the first time you didn't bother knocking; you just walked in… to his home. You walked in, grabbed a beer, and landed on the couch; he eventually brought you a plate of food and shared dumb stories about his students. As you threw your head back laughing, Frankie knew at that exact moment that he wanted to do this for the rest of his life.

But in reality, he never made any of his friends knock. It was well known his door was never locked, and you could just waltz in, but you were different.

"Up here! Coming!" Frankie rushes down the stairs to greet you, still rearranging the clothes on his body.

-----

Surprisingly you hadn't picked 'The Princess Bride,’ which he knew was your favourite movie. He'd never tell anyone this, but when he was having a dark day or missed you, he would watch 'The Princess Bride’ and think of you.

The both of you had watched 'Wonder Woman' and then put on 'Prospect,’ but as the night started to fall, Frankie's eyelids did as well.

-Dream-

Images of Cielo flashed through Frankie's mind. He couldn't help but smile. Cielo was the one good constant in Frankie's life; when things became too much, he always knew you would be there for him. But his lovely, warm memories of you were quickly distorted and changed into what he could only describe as a nightmare.

"Guys, this is Aaron. Aaron, these are the guys, Will, Benny, Santiago, and Frankie."

Aaron’s arm casually around your waist drove Frankie crazy; he could feel his jaw tightening. Thinking that it should be his arm around your waist, his shoulder you lean your tired head against, and finally, you should be leaving in his truck instead of some fucking Prius. Frankie saw a flurry of snapshots and nightmarish memories of Aaron and your life together. Starting with a simple date where Aaron reaches over and squeezes your hand, and you look at him with so much love and potential.

"That should be me she's looking at like that," Frankie thought, but as soon as it started, new images flashed in front of Frankie, Aaron holding you as you cry, movie nights with just Aaron and you. The last one making Frankie physically wince, Aaron rolling off of you, both of you breathless,

"That was incredible," you say while still trying to catch your breath, looking over at Aaron, propping yourself up on one of your elbows before leaning down and mumbling against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie didn't think it could get any worse; he was wrong.

"We're getting married!" You shriek as you wrap your arms around Aaron’s torso. Benny was the first to offer congratulations, hugging you and picking you up off the ground. But while Will was walking towards you to give his congratulations, Frankie was stuck. He didn't understand, how could you be marrying this guy? His eyes unfocused, and stared off into the distance. His head started to race, but before he could completely spiral, he felt a large wack on his shoulder.

Santi leans in and whispers in his ear, "Come on, Hermano, you’ve got to get it together and go congratulate her." Frankie knew he was right; he came out of his daze, walked forward, and wrapped his arms around you. He put his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent like it was the last time.

Pulling back slightly, "Congratulations, Cielo."

Frankie started to feel uneasy; his stomach began to tie in knots. Suddenly, Frankie was in his tactical gear in the middle of the jungle; he didn't know what he was doing here? He was no longer on active duty; his current job was to teach new pilots how to control a helicopter under extreme conditions. It had been years since he was in full tactical.

It felt heavier than usual… without explicitly knowing that there was a picture in his breast pocket, he took it out and realized why he felt heavier. Tears started to well in his eyes; he turned the picture over and read, "30 weeks. Come home safe, Frankie. This baby needs to meet their godfather."

Silently, Frankie started to cry. Crying over the fact that you were pregnant, that the baby wasn't his, but also over the reality of how happy you were. Happy without him. Frankie turned the picture over and started to caress your face and your bump carefully. Frankie loved you with every ounce of himself, and he would choose your happiness over his every single time. He knew there was nothing for him to do; it was too late to confess his love, but he also knew that he wanted to be in your life, and this baby’s, in any capacity he could, and if "godfather" was his role then so be it.

Suddenly there was loud banging in the distance, gunfire? Frankie's breathing hitched, and then, like some sort of glitch, the picture was no longer in his hands but a gun and the photo on the muddy ground. Frankie bent down to pick up the picture of you, but out of nowhere, he was tackled.

"Estúpido hijo de puta! What the hell were you thinking, Frankie? We're being shot at, and you're just standing there like target practice?!" Santi kept his voice quiet, but that didn't mean he wasn't yelling at Frankie.

"What the fuck are we doing here?" Frankie says, completely confused.

"You need to get your head out of the Sky and help me eliminate this last guy shooting at us so we can go home."

Frankie nods; he will do whatever it takes to get back to you.

"Okay, you go left. I’ll go right. They seem to be following us, so maybe we can surprise them from behind."

Frankie follows Pope's instructions and gives a wide berth to the left in hopes of trapping and surprising the person after the two of them. Frankie slowly crept through the jungle, keeping the end of his gun butted against his shoulder and his eyes keeping track of Pope through glimpses in the foliage. Frankie saw the person after them; he stopped and made eye contact with Pope. Pope gave a small nod. Frankie raised his gun and shot twice in center mass. The body crumpled. Frankie and Pope stalked towards the body. Frankie looked around the body for the gun, but there was none?

Frankie turns over the body… shock hits Frankie's entire body like a wave crashing over him. What had he done, what had he done! He dropped to his knees and cradled your body; Frankie’s gloved hand moved some stray hairs from your face. "Mi Cielo, what are you doing here? Baby, why are you here?" He starts to rock your body and cries, "I'm so sorry, so so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. Come back to me". Frankie feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up as Pope looks down at him. "This is your fault, Frankie, she's here because you never told her." As soon as he hears that, he can't speak, he can't move, everything is heavy, this is his fault. Suddenly BANG!

-End Of Dream-

Frankie jumped up from the couch in a terrible panic, trying to comprehend what was happening. His eyes dart around the room; he sees a broken plate on the floor and sees you step toward him. Scared of hurting you, he takes a step back. You're trying to talk to him, but it's all garbled; he can't make anything out. Violently, he shakes his head, hoping that everything will go back to normal. Finally, your sweet voice comes to him.

"Frankie, everything is okay, you're safe, I'm right here,"

As he looks down at his hand, he can see the blood that was there as he held your lifeless body in the jungle. Words tumble from his mouth. Part of him knows he doesn't make any sense, but all he knows is he has to keep you safe. Keeping you safe is all he cares about, and to keep you safe, he had to get away from you.

"I need you to stay back!"

Frankie ran into the nearest room and locked the door. He can hear you running after him, but as he slides down against the bathroom wall, everything feels like it's closing in on him. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, but the more he focuses on his breathing, the more he panics that he can't get it under control. He can feel himself spiraling; he's shaking, crying, hell, he can't even breathe right, but seconds before he feels like he's going to pass out, he hears you humming.

Humming a sweet melody, he doesn't know the song, but it makes him feel safe. You always make him feel safe. As he focuses on your humming, unconsciously, his breathing starts to even out, and he wipes away some tears. Frankie tended to feel nothing or everything after an attack like this. His hands were still shaking a bit, but when he focused on you, he felt better.

“Frankie? I'm going to go clean up the plate. Just call if you need me. I’ll be right back, okay?”

God, her tone was so sweet, which only made this hurt more. This was just supposed to be a typical movie night so she could get her mind off work, but he had to ruin everything, like always. All he wanted to do was go out and act as if nothing had happened, but he couldn't look into your eyes. He didn't want to show you how broken he was.

Frankie was unsure how much time had passed, but then you finally spoke, “You need to let me in, Frankie...please.”

That broke something inside of him. Hearing your plea, realizing how much this was hurting you, he never wanted to hurt you. That’s why he ran. He didn't want to be the reason to hear such hurt in your voice, but as he reached for the doorknob, his mind betrayed him.

“You don't deserve her. You'll always hurt her. She was happier with Aaron. You could never make her happy.”

As if these words caused him physical harm, he winced and pulled his hand back. His head is low as he took a deep breath, trying to hush these thoughts "...I don't want you to see me like this…"

She says something that makes Frankie chuckle, but before she can continue, he reaches for the doorknob again. He stands and slowly opens the door, revealing him behind. You take his non-bandaged hand in yours and, with your other, wipe the tears that still must be rolling down his cheeks. Your hands are so soft; he never wants to forget your touch. Gently, you pulled Frankie into a hug, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly; he stuck his nose in the crook of your neck. Frankie had never felt safer than in your arms, your fingers tangling in his hair as you rubbed circles on his back.

Eventually, Frankie starts to let go but only far enough to rest his forehead on yours; he stares into your eyes; his eyes then fall to your lips. Trying to alleviate any of the tension that was in the air, the first thing Frankie thought of slipped through his lips. "So, is this where we kiss?"

As soon as it leaves his lips, he wants to take it back.

Quickly changing the subject, you ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Frankie can’t even begin to explain how much he doesn't want to do that. Honestly would rather do anything because the only thing that could make this night worse was seeing pity in your eyes. “Can we just talk about anything else other than that?”

What Frankie wasn't expecting was your reply. “Sure.”

As you lead him to the couch and sit down, he lays his head on your lap without even thinking, only knowing that he needs to be close to you, touching you. You talk about everything that comes to mind. As you talk, he can feel you play with his hair. He closes his eyes and enjoys as your nails gently brush across his scalp.

"Frankie, why do you call me Mi Cielo? I know it means 'my sky,’ but I don't understand why you would call me that? I asked Santi in the past, but he just laughed and rolled his eyes at me."

Frankie groans. The only thing worse than you asking this question is you asking Santi first. Unable to look you in the eyes, Frankie explains his name for you, making sure to keep out a couple of details.

-Flashback-

“How about Mi Cielo?”

The rest of the guys give each other side glances before all bursting into laughter.

Santi, still laughing, said, “You can call her whatever you want. When it's just the two of you in bed.” Giving you a large smirk, “But we need a name we all can use.”

Frankie throws one of Santi’s many throw pillows that cover his couch at him. “Fuck you! It's not like that!”

Benny was now getting in on the teasing. “Oh, then what is it like?”

“We’re just friends! Just like the rest of us!” Frankie gestures to the three guys sitting around him.

While sipping his beer, Will quietly adds, “Man, I hope you don't look at us like that while our backs are turned.”

Frankie’s head whips towards Will, but Will’s comment has already sent the other two men back into hysterics. Frankie can feel his cheeks starting to get hot, so he gets up and grabs another beer from the fridge. Frankie throws back the bit he has left before opening the new one.

Santi walks in and grabs the new beer out of Frankie’s hand before he can drink it and takes a sip. “You know we’re just kidding, right?

Frankie glares at Santi as he turns around and grabs another beer.

“You're our brother; we’re going to give you shit, It's inevitable, but we do want you to be happy. She makes you happy, and even though you can't see it, you make her happy.”

Frankie waves off his comment as he takes a sip of his new beer.

“I’m serious! I wish you two idiotas could see yourselves. You guys have already wasted what? Seven years? I know you guys weren't in a good place when you first met.”

Pope was alluding to the coke. Frankie was now clean, three years sober. It was still a daily struggle, but there was no part of him that ever wanted you to see him like that again.

“But what I'm getting at is that you both have grown. You lean on each other. Hell, didn't you once meet her family?”

“Yeah…”

“Exactly! Now you've just gotta make a move! Because I don't know how many more barbeques I can take where you’re both looking at each other longingly when the other isn't looking.”

Frankie takes another sip. “I don't know, Hermano. I know I love her.” Frankie realizes this is the first time he has said it out loud, partially wide-eyed. He continues, “I want to be with her, but if she says no...I don't know what I’ll do. Part of me is happy with her just in my life, even just as friends.”

Frankie leans against the island with his elbows and rubs his face with his hands. “I don't know what I’d do without her, Pope.”

Santi claps him on the back. “I know, Hermano.”

There was a few seconds of silence before Benny yelled loud enough for Frankie and Santi to hear in the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll ask her out! How do you say it again? Pre-ci-ooo-sa?” (Frankie didn't even know you could butcher Spanish that badly)

Shaking their heads, Santi and Frankie both simultaneously say, “Maldito gringo”

-End Of Flashback-

When Frankie finished his explanation of your nickname, he saw you start to stare off. Thankfully, you were too preoccupied zoning out and playing with Frankie’s hair to see the red tint that slowly crept up his face. Frankie enjoyed the soft touches of your fingers intertwined within his messy curls, wishing he could stay like this forever. But you somehow caught him stifling a yawn. "Let’s get you to bed.”

Frankie was incredibly thankful you agreed to stay; he didn't know what he'd do if he had another nightmare like before. Hearing your steady heartbeat and even breathing kept him calm, but as he lost himself in the rhythm, that's when he heard — your confession. Frankie doesn't move; he’s got to be dreaming, right? His brain is playing a trick on him. You could never love him; he’s just a broken man. As his brain tries to process your confession, he can feel your breathing get shallower; you’ve fallen asleep. He lifts his head, looks at your peaceful face, and thinks, “I love you too, Mi Celio.” He places his head back on your chest and immediately falls asleep.

-----

This was the best sleep Frankie had had in years; he could imagine the rest of his life sleeping right beside you. In between conscious and unconsciousness, Frankie reaches out for you to pull you back toward his body, but all he feels is empty sheets. His eyes instantly open as he sits up to scan the empty bed and the empty room.

Where could you have gone? Could you have just left him in the middle of the night? Before heartbreak overtakes him, he sees the light coming out from under the bathroom door; he throws off the blankets, runs over to the door, and tosses it open. Your eyes meet as the bathroom door swings open; you’re at the sink washing your hands.

Seeing your eyes makes everything better. You didn't leave; you stayed; it wasn't a dream; you did love him. He leans into your hand, and everything feels better.

Frankie opens his eyes and asks, “Are you hungry?”

-----

“Can we talk about you kissing me?”

He could have been more delicate, but he was thinking hard about what to say. The words just tumbled from his mouth as he looked at you across the kitchen.

Seeing you start to backpedal made a small part of his mind doubt what he knew. But his love for you won out. He knew how you felt, and he knew he loved you, and he told you just that.

“I love you too.”

-----

The next couple of hours felt like a dream. You both confessed your love for each other, he finally got to kiss you (and taste you), and he got to worship your body as you deserved. After he rolled off of you, both of you still breathless, you turned your head towards him and said: "That was incredible… that was beyond incredible."

Frankie gave a goofy smile to himself, proud to have satisfied you better than your imaginary boyfriend he made up. But just like in his dream, you propped yourself up, leaned down, and mumbled against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie took further care of you, wiping you down with a warm face cloth and gently reminding you to pee. As he laid in bed waiting for you, he knew he wanted to take care of you for as long as you'd have him. He wanted this for the rest of his life: you taking care of each other. When you crawl back into bed, he wraps his arms around you, wanting you as close as possible, and the both of you fall peacefully asleep tangled together.

-----

Frankie woke up the best way he could ever imagine, with you leaning over him, slowly kissing his face. A smile on his face grew, and he greeted you, "Good morning." And with your warm smile matching his, you greet him as well. "Morning, Frankie."

He pulled you in with his bandaged hand to continue this kiss. After a minute or two, you pull back, Frankie’s lips pursed forward, wanting more, but you stopped to say something. "Oh, by the way, Santi stopped by and wanted to gossip with you, but I told him you were busy."

"Oh, am I?" Frankie said, completely joking. At this moment, he couldn’t care less about Santi. The only person he cared about at this moment was in his arms with the most addicting lips.

"Yes, extremely busy," her lips attached to Frankies. Their lips fought for dominance, but Frankie won when he flipped the both of you, so he was on top. With a small gasp, your mouth opened, and he used this to his advantage. As Frankie's hands traveled down your body and got to the bottom of your shirt, he realized something was different; this didn't feel like the shirt you had been wearing earlier this morning. He broke the long kiss between you two, both of you already breathless, and he looked down.

"Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it. Is that okay?” He can tell you're a little nervous.

“Yeah, I…you just look good in it… really fucking good”. Trying to keep his feelings in check. He couldn't tell if he wanted you to only wear his shirts from now on or if he wanted to rip it off your body so he could worship every inch of you all over again.

“You should see how good I look out of it,” you say with a wink.

Option two, he thought, definitely option two.

-----

Frankie woke up with your hair tickling his nose, but this only brought a smile to his face when he realized you were here and he wasn't dreaming. Frankie carefully propped himself up and gazed upon your face. He lightly pushed the stray hairs out of your face, pressing a light kiss on your temple. Then, he caressed your face, neck, and shoulder with the back of his fingers. Still asleep, you shifted your body, rolling on your back, seeking his warmth. Frankie's smile only grew as he watched your naked body search for his. Frankie kisses you once again before covering you up with the rest of the blankets, hoping that would stall your search for his body heat. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he makes his way to the kitchen to once again try and cook a meal. However, the terrible mess in the kitchen looked like it was going to take priority. After throwing away the cold starts of avocado toast, Frankie decides on something simple in case he gets interrupted (his stomach growls in agreement). Not that he'd be complaining; the both of you happily ate the cold takeout that you had ordered before falling back to sleep from exhaustion. He would eat cold food the rest of his life if it meant he could enjoy every noise, moan, and pleasure-filled eye roll you made as he worshipped you like it was his last time.

Frankie quickly whipped up some sandwiches, grabbed a bag of chips and a couple cans of pop (deciding it was late enough in the day for pop but not late enough for a beer). Looking at everything before him, he realized he didn't have one of those trays everyone in the movie seemed to have, mentally adding that to a list of things to buy if you were going to be staying over more. He hoped you would be staying over more. Deciding that they would be sharing a plate (one less thing to carry … and potentially drop,) he moves all the sandwiches onto one plate, puts the bag of chips under his arm, and puts a can in each pocket of his sweatpants, which are pulling them dangerously low, but he didn't have to go far. But before leaving the kitchen, Frankie looked over to his table, which seemed to be brighter from the bouquet of sunflowers he bought the day before. With his one free hand, he grabs a single sunflower and heads back to the bedroom. Opening the door slowly, he sees you cuddled up in the pile of blankets he left you in. Frankie walks over to his side of the bed, places everything on the floor, then cuddles into you. He kisses up your jaw, pressing his nose into your soft skin, tickling you with his scruff. He tries to wake you up with a sing-songy voice.

"Come on Mi Cielo. Waaaake up. I've got a suuuuupriiiiise for yooou"

Only groaning your response

"Come on baby, wake up." Really trying to wake you with his scratchy scruff rubbing up against your face.

"Okay, okay, stop it. I'm up!" Grabbing the sides of his face and pushing him away.

Frankie laughs as you groan, sitting up and leaning against his bed frame.

"Okay, what's the surprise?"

"Close your eyes."

You squint your eyes, suspicious of Frankie, but you both know you trust Frankie with your life. Closing your eyes, you wiggle to make yourself more comfortable against the bed frame.

"Okay, open'em!"

Frankie sees the genuine surprise on your face. "It's nothing fancy, but I-"

Covering his mouth with both of your hands, you interrupt him. "Frankie. This is perfect. Thank you." Releasing his lips, you pull him in and kiss him. Both of you break the kiss rather quickly, knowing if you don't stop, it will be another forgotten meal.

Frankie saw you look at the sunflower on the plate's rim before delicately picking it up and gently tracing the petals with your finger. Internally, Frankie debated whether to tell you the meaning behind the sunflower, but as he saw your soft smile only grow, he simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

“It reminds me of your smile!”

Both you and Frankie are suddenly startled by Frankie's unusually loud declaration. Cocking your eyebrow in confusion, you look at Frankie in hopes of an explanation.

“I - uh, when I was at the grocery store getting food for movie night, I walked past the flower section, and when I saw the sunflower, I couldn't help but think of you… and your smile.” Frankie didn't think he had anything else to say, but he just couldn't stop. “I met this old man, and he told me about his wife and how she liked tulips, and all I could think about was us at that age. What we'd be like. But then I saw this sadness in his eyes, and even though he didn't say anything, I could tell how much he missed her. And all I could think of was how much more I'd miss you if we were that age, and I still hadn't told you how I felt.

As Frankie finished, he felt out of breath, like he had released all he had been holding on to for seven years. It took all of Frankie's conviction and confidence not to hide his eyes from your all-encompassing gaze.

There was a long silence as the two of you stared at each other. This was only broken when Frankie saw your eyes turn partially glassy, and panic flooded his body, but before he could apologize for anything and everything that possibly could have made you cry, he felt your arms be thrown around his neck, and with a tight squeeze he knew everything was going to be alright.

—--

The next two days, neither of you spent more than a couple minutes out of bed and almost always in arm's reach of each other. Contact became practically a necessity, Frankie constantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. Your hands traced each scar, cut, and bruise that littered his body. Neither of you wanted this to end, but Frankie was the first to declare a solution.

"Why don't we both call in sick?"

"We can't just call in sick, Frankie."

"Why not?"

"The both of us calling in sick? That's suspicious. Someone is bound to figure it out."

"We work in two completely different sections, no one would ever know." Frankie knew you. He knew you wanted this; it just might take a little extra convincing. But for a couple extra days with you in this bubble, it was worth it.

"I don't know, Frankie." Frankie saw you hang your head, and he knew this was his moment

"Come on Mi Cielo, play hooky with me." Giving his signature smirk before leaning down, kissing your temple, and whispering in your ear, "I'll make it worth your while."

Frankie pulled back to gauge your reaction. And when he saw your smile, he knew he had you.

"Oh, is that right, Mr. Morales?"

Hearing 'Mr. Morales' come from your lips made him give a low moan before biting his lip, trying to contain it.

"Si mi amour"

Frankie barely answered before dragging you back to the bedroom.

-----

Slowly, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday passed. Frankie and you found a rhythm in your rose-tinted bubble. Nothing appeared to be able to burst it, that was, until an unexpected guest.

Frankie was washing dishes from supper the night before as you dried and put them away. This felt like the most natural thing, sure you had washed dishes together in the past, but now, as Frankie looked over at you, everything was different. You were wearing an old shirt of his and an even older pair of boxers. You shook your hips and swayed to the music that played throughout the kitchen. From time to time, touching his waist as you move past him to put something away, often followed by a kiss on the cheek or behind the ear.

This time, however, Frankie saw you coming and turned to catch your lips; he could feel you react at first but, in an instant, melt into him. Not caring about anything, he turns, making sure not to break the kiss, and pulls you into him with his wet soapy hands, one on your back and one gripping your ass. You gasp in surprise, which Frankie takes advantage of, deepening the kiss. The smell of you fills his nostrils, and the sweet taste of you starts to fog his mind, but before he can do anything else, he hears, "Ahem."

Pulling back, Frankie turns to look at Pope, giving the two of you a shit-eating grin.

Frankie's head falls to your shoulder, and without looking at him, Frankie asks, "What do you want, Pope?"

"Oh well, when I heard my best friend was out sick, I went to see if our licensed medical professional knew anything. But to my surprise, she was out sick too!" Sarcasm dripped from Pope's statement.

Frankie feels a whack on his shoulder. "I told you someone would figure it out!"

Frankie lifted his head and rolled his eyes. "Pope doesn't count as someone."

Looking directly at Pope now, Frankie asks, "Again, what do you want, Pope?"

"Like I said, I wanted to check in on my best friend!"

Frankie cocks his eyebrow, knowing nothing is simple with Pope.

"I've given you guys four days together. Isn't that enough?"

Frankie, already incredibly annoyed by his best friend, matter-of-factly says “No.” before quickly pulling you in and passionately finishing the kiss Pope had so rudely interrupted. Frankie can feel you initially melt into him, but feeling Pope's eyes on you, you quickly come to your senses and push away from Frankie. He can practically feel the heat coming from your cheeks as you look down, making sure to not make eye contact with Pope before quickly excusing yourself to get dressed.

Watching you walk up the stairs to his room, he couldn't comprehend how lucky he was, but his fantasy was quickly dismissed when Pope declared, “Enough about you two, let me tell you about my date!”

Turning his neck, Frankie gave Pope one of the coldest stares he could muster this early in the morning. Either completely missing or ignoring the stare, Pope went into his story about his date with Allison “Okay, so I picked her up and took her to that hot new restaurant I told you about, and then we-” It was then when Frankie tuned Santi out and continued with the dishes, only occasionally adding in a helpful nod and ‘uh huh’ as the story continued.

By the time the story was wrapping up, Frankie heard you coming down the stairs, and he couldn't help but turn to you and smile. Like it was second nature, Frankie opened his arms, welcoming you into his embrace, but before you could Santi had to ruin the moment. “Wipe that goofy smile off your face. She was gone for like ten minutes.”

Santi and Frankie couldn't help but roll their eyes at each other, which only made Cielo giggle as she secured herself in Frankie's embrace.

“So what is this? Are you guys together? Or just fucking?”

Instantaneously, both Frankie and you shout, “Santi!” but Santi brushes this off with a shrug.

Frankie suddenly panicked. These days of playing hooky had let him imagine a life with you. In a perfect world, he'd propose to you right now, and you'd be married, moved in (and hopefully pregnant) by the end of the week.

But maybe that's not what you wanted? Maybe you wanted to just enjoy these days of playing hooky, and once it ended, never speak of it again.

Before fully spiraling, Frankie felt your hand on his chest, grounding him. He looked at you, and even though you were glaring at Santi (much like a sibling would), he knew that this was in no way, as Santi put it, just fucking.

"Santi, I love you like a brother. And because of that, I'm going to politely ask you to leave before I start throwing things. Particularly at your head." The smile on your face was radiant, but Frankie knew the look was dead serious.

Santi barely started, "But I-"

Still with the brightest smile spread across her face, Cielo picked up a plate and stared at Santi.

Santi squints, “You wouldn’t?”

You pull your back, ready to throw. “Try me, pretty boy.”

Seeing she means business, Santi lifts his hands up in surrender and makes his way out of the house.

Before the door closes, you yell out, “Bye, Santi!”

Frankie chuckled and turned to her, “Were you actually going to throw it?” to which she only answered with a shrug before continuing with the dishes. Frankie couldn't help but let out a booming laugh, with tears of laughter.

Once the laughter ends, there's a calm silence around them; the only noise is the sloshing of water from washing dishes and the clinking of plates as they're put away. Frankie knows what he wants, and part of him believes he knows what Cielo wants… but the voice of doubt still lingers in his head. Once again, Frankie is unable to keep his thoughts from spilling out.

“You want this right? You want us…” There's another pause, but this one feels less calm. In the silence, all Frankie can hear is his own heartbeat, slowly starting to rise. He puts the cup he was holding down on the counter, worrying that his sudden clammy hands will fumble it. Frankie sees you stare at your reflection within the sink. As he stares at you, waiting for a response, he sees a tear drop roll down your cheek and hit the water in the sink, making a small ripple.

Without even thinking, Frankie's hands are on your cheeks, wiping the silent tears with his thumbs and turning you to face him. Your brilliant eyes, which he loves so much, are glassy and red from the tears. Frankie sees your throat bob as you swallow hard. Frankie's voice can't help but come out as a beg, “Mi amor, ¿qué es?”

Cielo takes a very shaky, deep breath, and you responds barely higher than a whisper. “I'm scared.”

Another shaky breath was taken before she continued, “I'm scared we're moving too fast. I'm scared that we’ll ruin our friendship. I'm scared you'll fall out of love with me. Im - Im -I'm scared I’ll lose you!” You couldn't help but sob at the last statement, and your knees finally gave way.

Frankie immediately scoops you so he's on his knees, and you're clinging to his chest. He doesn't care that your hands are wet and soapy from the sink, he doesn't care that his shirt is wet from your tears, he doesn’t even care that he landed on his knees so hard he’d probably be sore for weeks. All he cares about is you. Taking care of you. Being there for you. Whatever you need. All that he did was for you.

Unconsciously, Frankie starts to rock you in his arms, whispering “I love you’s” in Spanish and English. The snobs eventually turn into much smaller cries. Frankie is still rocking but now humming a song that he didn't know the words to. Cielo finally looks up at Frankie, and he wipes your tears. “You’re humming my dad's song. He'd sing it to me when I was little.”

“It's also what you sang to me after my nightmare.”

“...I just wanted to help.”

Frankie nuzzles his nose against her cheek, “I know.”

This silence now felt like home. He could only hear their heartbeats, their synchronised breathing, and the song he continued to hum.

“I know you're scared, but being with you is all I’ve ever wanted. And I'm never changing my mind. I want everything with you, big or small,”

Frankie cradles your cheek in his hand and looks into your eyes. “I want to get married and have kids, but I also want to hold your hand when we walk side by side. I want to buy you flowers whenever I think of your smile. I want to have a picture of you in my cap. I want to hold you when we watch Princess Bride.” Taking a breath, he continues, “I want to wake up beside you every day for the rest of my life.”

Frankie leans down to kiss you, and the kiss contains multitudes. Frankie kissed you with a promise of your future together. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “I promise. Nothing could ever take me from you.”

As You looked at Frankie, he knew, in his heart, they would be together for the rest of their lives.

-The Next Last Friday of the Month-

“Hey, Fish were here!”

“Hey guys! We’re in the kitchen!”

As Santi, Benny, and Will enter the kitchen with armloads of beer and chips, they are greeted by both you and Frankie, who are making popcorn and grabbing cold beer from the fridge.

Benny hugs you, lifting you up off your feet. “Oh my god! You're here first? You never beat us!”

“Oh, you know they let me off early today because it was so quiet.” You have a small smirk when Frankie catches your eyes, which he can't help but return. You actually arrived first because you and Frankie had been driving to work together for the past month.

Frankie glances at Santi to see if he's kept his word and not gossiped with the boys about the two of you. The two of you swore him to secrecy because they wanted to tell them together, which he begrudgingly agreed to.

As the five of them head to the living room, you and Benny continue to argue.

“It's Fish’s turn to pick! Those are the rules!”

“But no one showed up last month! All you fucks canceled!”

“It was your pick last month, and Fish’s pick this month. ‘thems the rules!” Benny shrugs nonchalantly.

You land in the middle of the couch with an indignant “Ugh!” as you cross your arms. “This is so not fair.”

All the boys chuckle, Will sits beside you, Benny sits in the armchair, Santi spreads himself over the loveseat, and Frankie goes to the DVD shelf to pick a movie.

Since Benny never knows when to call it quits, whispers under his voice as he takes a sip of beer, “Everyone cancelled because we couldn't stand to watch The Princess Bride again.”

Frankie can hear you gasping behind him, and then he hears what he can only imagine as pillows being pelted at Benny. Everyone starts to laugh again.

Benny starts to scream in defeat. “I'm Kidding! I'm kidding! I'm kidding!”

Frankie puts the movie in the player and turns to see you standing over Benny, who is on the ground trying to dodge punches, pokes, and tickles. Frankie chuckles and sits down on the other end of the couch to Will and presses play to the movie.

“Admit defeat Miller! And I’ll take mercy on you!”

“Uncle! Uncle!”

“Say it!”

“The Princess Bride is the best movie ever!”

Satisfied, you stand and take the middle seat between Will and Frankie.

Out of breath, Benny crawls back into the armchair before asking Frankie, “So what are we watching, Fish?”

“The best movie ever.”

You look at Frankie with a touch of shock and he can't help but smile. Benny lifts his eyebrow in confusion until the movie tile screen comes up.

Benny groans and everyone laughs. You kiss Frankie on the cheek and cuddle beside him. Frankie kisses you on the top of the head. “Cualquier cosa por ti mi amor”

There's approximately 1 minute of silence before Will speaks up. “What the fuck?”

Benny is still staring at the two of them with a blank face of confusion.

Will once again, “Are we missing something?”

You shush Will “ssssshhhhh the movies starting!”

Benny, this time, stands up and blocks the TV. “No, no, no, explain.”

Frankie glances at Cielo to which she answers with a shrug. “Fine if it gets us to watch this movie quicker. Fish and I are together” Benny goes to interrupt but she stops him “Uhp! Uhp! Uhp! We've been together for a month, we are happy, and we will be taking nobody else's opinions.”

Benny and Will finally look at Santi, who has been playing on his phone the entire time.

Santi turns his head, “What?”

“Do you have anything you want to add?”

Santi thinks for a moment before throwing some popcorn in his mouth. “We should all start knocking because I walked in on them basically having sex in the kitchen.

This made both Frankie and you yell, “Santi!” and for good measure, you threw another pillow, adding, “We were just kissing!”

Hearing giggles from the Miller brothers behind you, you whip around “Anything else?”

Almost immediately, they leaned back in their seats like nothing had happened.

Frankie pressed play, and they started watching The Princess Bride when Benny quietly whispered, “It's about goddamn time.”

To which they all can't help but laugh.

[rainbowredcrayon]

This blog is entirely SFW but I'd like to keep it adults-only for my comfort please! ☀️ I'd prefer heavily NSFW blogs to just look as well. Please do not interact with me if you post NSFW content with stuffed animals

If you're against age regression or like-minded communities or are a generally close-minded & judgemental person then this blog probably isn't for you 🌈

Hello there! 👋 My name is Nate, welcome to my Tumblr page!

I love rainbows and incorporating them into my life is very important to me. I love wearing colorful outfits, collecting stuffed animals and coloring with crayons 🖍️

I also work full-time as an illustrator professionally, you can find my art under the username “natedraws” pretty much anywhere online 🎨

✨ My Favorites ✨ 🌈Color: Rainbow, blue, pink, red 🦐Animal: Shrimp, pangolin 📚Book: The Velveteen Rabbit 🎞️Show: Spirit Riding Free 🎥Movie: Mr.Magorium's Wonder Emporium 🖍️Hobby: Coloring, reading, cross-stitch

For as long as I can remember I have struggled with being different from everyone around me, having interests in media and toys that are much younger then I should be. What causes this I don’t know, but as I’ve gotten older I am learning to embrace it instead of wishing I was different. It’s so important to be yourself even if others don’t understand! ✨

And again; if you are against age regression, littles, babyfurs, ect. Or are generally a close-minded & judgemental person then this blog probably isn't for you! This includes people who use labels you personally find "icky" ( despite them doing the exact same thing as you - just with a different word attached to it ). This is not specifically a blog for that, but themes / imagery of it might appear as it's apart of who I am that I do not categorize or seperate

🌈My Blogs: ( This is my main so follows come from here! )

🎨 @natedraws - My artwork 🧸 @rainbowredcrayon - My original photos, mainly pictures of toys, teddies, coloring pages, ect ( you're here! ) 🌈 @iloveteddiesandyou - Where I re-blog things, post photos that aren't "good enough" for here, and may occasionally personal posts 🐺 @dogsoulhumanbody - Otherkin related 🍃 @mayornate - Animal Crossing related 🐎 @spiritridingfreeblog - A blog dedicated to my main special interest; Spirit Riding Free 🍌 @rainbowminionlvr - A blog dedicated to my special interest in Minions

If a blog is not listed above 👆 it is not me

☀️My Tags:

All of my posts will have the tag of that specific teddies name, so if you search it you can find all posts that friend has been shown in

#others photos - Photos that other people have taken of my plush

#friends teddies - Photos including my friends plush

#partners teddies - Photos including my partners plush

#for me - Posts for me by others

#ask - Asks I have been sent

🛑 Do Not Interact

I do not have a DNI list. If I don't want you interacting with me I will just block you! ( This being said, if you do find yourself blocked by me it doesn't mean I think you're bad or anything, not everyone is meant to be friends with each-other. I take curating my spaces for myself very liberally ) In general as long as you are not a mean or judgemental person & don't stand for things that are harmful towards others then we should be good to get along : D If you do not want me interacting with you, you’re free to send me a kind message asking me to stop & I will ☀️ Or you should use the block button as intended ( no need to contact me at all! ). If you feel the need to be rude or cruel about it I ask you to take a step back and ask yourself what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish. I do not check the source of everything I interact with because that’s just unreasonable : )

[art-tea-chill]

Made a Hazbin Hotel OC, here she is. I'm thinking about rewriting this show.

(Note: I have not watched Hazbin Hotel aside from the pilot because I have no interest.)

Her name is Mari Farfalle, she's a butterfly demon and Sir Pentious's wife in both life and death (I hate Sir Pentious x Cherri because it feels extremely forced, so screw it).

Likes:

Sir Pentious

Egg Bois

Violence

Dissecting creatures

Collecting hearts

Tea

Cake

Romantic gestures

Dislikes:

Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb

Sir Pentious being harmed

Soda

Not being able to dissect creatures

Cherries

Valentino

1960s fashion

Peace

1700s Fashion

Backstory:

Mari was a British woman born around the early to mid 1860s and was the heiress to an extremely wealthy family at the time. However, Mari often felt distant and antisocial compared to what a lady should've been during the Victorian Era. She was a sociopath with very little empathy and love towards anyone, she only either hated people or felt neutral towards them. She was very violent and the only thing that brought her joy was violence and tearing people apart.

One day, her family married her off to Sir Arthur Price (Sir Pentious real name before he died). Mari and Arthur's relationship was neutral until she figured out that he was a supervillain plotting world domination and a brilliant scientist who could create machinery far beyond what was normal for the time. To Arthur's shock, Mari was delighted to learn this and personally started funding his machinery due to the fact that she didn't quite possess his skill. Arthur and Mari started to actually fall in love this time.

One day, however, one of the house servants figured out Arthur's plans and Mari's involvement and ratted them out. They were both put on trial and were sentenced to death by electrocution. Both Arthur and Mari died on November 27, 1890.

Personality:

Mari is a dramatic and hammy supervillain alongside her husband in Hell, just with the added bonus of being a sadistic sociopath. She has no regard for any of the sinners and views them all neutrally. Along with her husband, she despises Angel Dust, Cherri, and any sinner that acts remotely similar to them and wants to dissect them when they finally lose to her and Pentious

Despite her sociopathy and cold hearted nature, she genuine loves Pentious, she just trouble expressing it in a way that either doesn't sound like she's manipulating him or in a empathetic way. She also shares his attitude towards the Egg Bois and cares for them.

Trivia Time:

She was in her early 30s when she died and Arthur was around his late 30s.

Mari loved brutally dissecting animals and keeping parts of their organs, it was one of the few things in life that brought her joy. She still does so in Hell.

She also want to dissect Angel and Cherri like mentioned above, what she wants to do to them specifically is sew their kidneys together and take their hearts as a prize.

Mari adores Victorian surgery due to how bloody and violent it was back then, she's disappointed that surgery in Hell or even in life anymore isn't like that anymore.

Mari hides her other sets of arms and wings like Angel Dust does to surprise her victims, but she mainly uses her other arms while dissecting sinners who crossed her path.

She can play fake facades up extremely well, she mainly does this to Charlie since she doesn't care about redeeming herself.

Has a pretty big ego, sinners learn the hard way that badmouthing her is not a good idea unless you're willing to start living with stitches and missing organs.

her sins in life were Pride, Envy, and later Wrath. (In my rewrite, I'd say that souls go to Hell if they commited crimes while having two or more of the Seven Deadly Sins as personality traits.)

Describes stuff she likes in extreme detail.

She's a butterfly in Hell because she envied their beauty when alive and ripped off their wings if one came close to her. She still has a collection of ripped wings.

Mari also has a heart collection, its the organ she likes the most.

Bonus: Art Dump.

I tried to make her in Vivzie's actual style before going "screw it" and just made Mari in my own. This is her anatomy if your wondering.

Just her talking to Charlie about a sinner she killed and dissected that also badmouthed both her and Pentious.

Just a lady and a heart she stole.

[peaceloveelvis]

So... I know that you cross stitch and that you are very talented at the things that you make.

I hope that I can make an Elvis cross stitch as beautiful as yours one day.

I've just started practicing embroidery, which I know is different from cross stitch, but I've been too intimidated to try making anything crafty until very recently.

I just thought that maybe I could show you the thing that I made.

I'm totally open to constructive criticism, by the way.

I've just always admired people who can make something beautiful out of nothing.

I know that it isn't Elvis related, but hopefully, I can after I get enough crafting experience.

🌻💕🎀

Oh my gosh I love seeing what other people make!! Feel free to send me pictures any time!

I've actually never done embroidery so I can't give too much advice on it, but if you ever want to tackle Counted Cross Stitch I'd be happy to help! And YouTube has some great videos to get started! I'm just lucky that my mom used to cross stitch so that's how I learned ❤️

[remyfire]

U write like a repressed christian housewife who has unfulfilled sex

Hey there!

I'm really sorry I haven't been giving you the attention you've been lusting for over the past three months of you attempting to harass me under, what are we up to now, four different accounts? Five? More than that? But frankly nothing you've tried to insult me with has been very interesting—including the other ask you sent four hours ago almost on the dot.

I understand how upsetting it can be when the person you're trying to make angry is neither affected by your words or giving you the time of day, so I'd like to recommend that you pick up a new hobby instead of trying to get a rise out of people. Cross-stitching is a really satisfying endeavor. There's some incredible small businesses you can support if you take up something like watercolor painting. Volunteering at an animal shelter might give you a degree of personal fulfillment.

But at the end of the day, I know you're lonely. I know you're upset because you feel like your writing is underappreciated. I know you're sad due to a lack of community. But at some point, I really hope you can begin to understand that the only way you're going to form a community of people who love, support, and cherish you is by exhibiting kindness and interest in their lives, passions, and work rather than sending asks ranging from childish insults to violent suicide bait.

I'm hoping things improve for you. When you're ready to get started on working through the things you've said and done to people, it's gonna suck initially. There's nothing particularly fun about looking at your face in the mirror and accepting that you've enthusiastically, gleefully decided to be the villain in the lives of many, many people rather than taking those uncomfortable feelings of envy and depression and anger and learning appropriate coping strategies to help them pass through you instead of letting them become a weapon in your hand. But I do hope that when that day comes, you will have found someone who wants to let you lean on them rather than letting your own behavior continue to alienate you from not only your fandoms but also the entire world around you.

[fictional-men-have-my-heart]

Hello all! Welcome to day 22! Today I was thinking about what hidden talents the 141, Los Vaqueros, and Konig may have. Simple, yet sweet type stuff :)

Price:

He doesn't like to admit to it, but he can sing quite well. Most of you have caught him singing quietly in his office as he goes through files or when he thinks he's alone in the range. You caught him off guard once during a mission when he was on watch and thought everyone was asleep.

"Got a nice voice Cap." You mumble, watching him jolt.

"Jesus kid, don't spook me like that." He'd grumble, shaking his head.

"Sorry sir, just thought I'd let you know."

Ghost:

He secretly likes to read. You weren't sure whose books you kept finding hidden in the bunkhouse, but they were certainly well-worn. You had asked Gaz and Soap, but neither knew either. It wasn't until you borrowed one to read on a long flight to a long-haul mission that Ghost noticed.

"Where'd you get this?" He growled, tugging it from you.

"In the bunkhouse? It kind of just appeared, no one knew... oh." Suddenly it clicked. He seemed to recognize you had no clue, so he holds it out to you.

"Don't get blood on it, understand?"

"Yes sir." You smiled, finding your place again.

Soap:

Doesn't like to admit to it, but he sketches a lot. You didn't take much notice, figuring he was writing back home to someone when you'd find him scrunched up over a notebook. Once though, one of his books fell out of his locker, spilling intricate sketches across the bunkroom. You had lept to help gather them, stopping as you saw a lovely drawing of Las Almas from when you guys had been there.

"Holy hell Soap, did you draw this?" You had asked quietly, holding the paper out to him. A red flush had started creeping up his neck, tinging his ears.

"Yeah, I did. Look, I don' like showin' these off. Keep this quiet, yeah?"

"Sure thing, just... know they're really good. Frame worthy." You had grinned. He nodded, shoving the book back into his locker.

Gaz:

You learned Gaz was one hell of a cook. You hadn't noticed at first how at ease he seemed in a kitchen, nor how he seemed to never use recipes. Now, you sat watching as he seemed to glide around the kitchen almost like a dance, preparing some food for the team on a relaxing evening between missions.

"Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"Picked it up over the years. Takes a lot of practice."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Plus, I figured it would make it easier to find someone if I could cook y'know?"

Alejandro:

You didn't think much of it when Alejandro easily stitched someone's wound in the field, most people could do rudimentary stitching with combat first aid. However, watching him meticulously repair a shirt after a rough undercover op had you fascinated.

"Where'd you learn to sew like this Colonel?"

"Mi mamá. She told us kids we would need to know how to fix our clothes since we shouldn't always look for someone else to do it for us. This was mostly because I kept ripping my clothes while cutting school with Rudy."

"Sounds like your mom is a smart woman." You had laughed. He smiled fondly.

"Oh, she is. Loving and stern even with my hardheadedness."

Rudy:

You could always tell Rudy was a smart, graceful guy. He moved quickly and damn near silently, his footfalls minimal. You finally broke and questioned it at one point.

"How are you so quiet all the time?"

"I took dancing classes as a kid."

"You what?" Your eyes snap to him, eyes wide.

"Took dancing classes. I like to think it helped round out the combat training I got when I joined the military. Quiet and ruthless." He smirked.

"Now I have to see you dance sometime." You laughed.

"Anytime, I can even teach you if you'd like."

Konig:

It's astounding the things you might miss about people if you're never in the right place. Konig was a reserved and quiet person, and it never crossed your mind he might have a talent for music or instruments given your line of work. But, when a mission was over and you were settled back at a relatively nice base with a piano, he watched as you and Gaz tinkered with it.

"You two disgrace such a lovely instrument." He joked, leaning on the doorway.

"Oh, can you do better big man?" Gaz had retorted. Konig motioned for you two to move, and he settled onto the bench.

It was a sight to see, his frame almost making the instrument seem normal-sized. You watched as he began playing softly as if trying to recall the notes.

"It's been a long time..." He murmurs, slowly gaining confidence. You grinned, enthralled with the lovely sound as he played.

"Even so, you play very well." He nods, offering the seat back to you and Gaz.

[spockandawe]

hello! i came across your wips button and i wonder if youll ever go do them? the transformers ones sound super good!!

That.... is an excellent question and one I'm not super equipped to answer! The boring downer angle is that I've been horribly, immovably blocked on art and writing for a long while now, and it drives me nuts trying to shake that AND i rarely have any luck. I know i can write pretty darn well, and I can do it FAST, there was a hot minute where i successfully held myself to uploading at least one piece of art or writing per day. That pace was never going to last, my art got better and my fics got longer, plus i went from languishing in the falling action of grad school to having an actual job, which was both a less flexible schedule and also more money to explore other hobbies. But that period of my life really drove home how important that rhythm and periodicity is to me, and i haven't been able to recapture that in years.

As it is right now, if i manage to finish anything, it's only going to happen with either a fandom at the VERY very forefront of my mind (svsss or the raksura core au right now), or with an idea too fresh and good and crunchy to resist, independent of fandom (there's a dungeon meshi idea lightly haunting me). Transformers is a remarkably good playground, I love it SO much, but it's been years since I reread any significant part of it, so the ideas aren't flowing. I trust my old ideas, but if the canon isn't fresh, or I'm not actively talking about it, the spark is unlikely to catch. There's an off-chance of me reacting to an idea in some other fic via a medium of transformers smut, but I'm also struggling to read right now too 🥲

But! But!!!! A thing ive noticed and that drives me bananas is that when i move, the shape of my hobbies changes. I vibed really well with writing in NJ and MA, and COMPLETELY lost the ball when i relocated to VA. I cross-stitched in NJ, faded in MA, and lost it in VA. I bookbound like nuts in VA, but i just did a local move, and I'm no longer getting the reaction of 'I'm idle, I should make a book.' I don't know where things will go, first was a rush to unpack my boxes, then was a rush to learn to paint a room, and now my home is full of jumbled furniture and objects and I'm so overwhelmed that all I want to do is lie in bed and level grind in video james.

Teal deer, i can't tell what hobby is going to take center stage now, and it's driving me nuts. But it could be writing! I'm much more confident about my writing than lots of other creative endeavors. I also want to revisit canon for a lot of old fandoms. I think the wip list predates my cnovel phase, but i have two beefy svsss wips, and at least two short ones, and two aus I'd love to flesh out. I have raksura core writing. I have a tf bookbinding project that's been languishing for. 1.5 years. But if i can find my momentum, I'll be diving back into canon. And i really think 5-10k of hard weird emotional smut really is my wheelhouse. I wish so hard i could recapture that energy! This is a response much longer than it needed to be, but just imagine me as the WHY ARE YOU CLOSED meme at my own brain, and much more confused and frustrated than anyone else that I don't write anymore 🤣