#QUEUE. [ it's about being better than you were yesterday. ]

[pugh-bug]

Flashing Lights

Art Donaldson x reader

If people like this I’ll write a part 2 and possibly some sub Art fics in the future. Challengers is all I can think about at the moment and this blonde man is living rent free in my brain.

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‘Come on come on, they can never have too many pictures taken of them!’

Your friend dragged you and your mediocre camera, quite forcefully, to Tashi Duncan’s party. It wasn’t just that you hadn’t been invited and that you weren’t remotely a tennis player it was that Ashley’s lame excuse of ‘they need more photographers’ was patently untrue. Everywhere you looked there were photographers with cameras that cost more than your yearly rent.

‘I’ll get us a drink wait here.’

You watched her confidently insert herself into the queue for the bar, in between endless posters of Tashi Duncan hoodies and Tashi Duncan headbands. If you hadn’t been such a feminist you might have felt a little sick from all the masturbatory self promotion.

In your idleness you decided to people watch. There were no less than a hundred people there already, all dressed elegantly with hair and makeup that no doubt took longer to do than the night would even last. You pulled at your tight dress. Flattering? Definitely. Comfortable? Absolutely not. Ashley had the tennis body, the Tashi Duncan confidence and skill but without the praise or queue of fans. You had your camera.

You hadn’t touched a tennis racket since you were ten years old. These people weren’t your peers they were your betters, including the snobby photographers and perhaps even including Ashely. At least she knew what ‘down the line’ meant.

‘Can we go?’ Your voice sounded bitter as Ashley handed you a cocktail. ‘I’ve got two photoshoots to edit for tomorrow and I don’t even like tennis! Why am I even here?’ As your friend defended her plan to ‘sleep with as many rich tennis players as possible’ your eyes wandered once again, this time landing on a man who needed no introduction.

‘Is that … Art Donaldson?’

It was him, smoking a cigarette by Patrick Zweig dressed for Summer. Fire and ice in the flesh. You suddenly felt the need to readjust your dress, your hair, your earrings. To fidget. To fidget and prepare for the chance he might look in your direction and see what he wanted.

‘Fuck me it’s Zweig.’

As Ashley launched into a thesis on why Patrick was the hottest man she’d ever seen, your eyes bored into the side of Art’s head. His curls fell so perfectly on his forehead but all you could find yourself imagining was messing them up. As your staring breached the line of too far, Ashley tapped your arm. ‘Think I should go talk to him? Flirt a bit? He’s a bit of a man whore, I’m pretty sure I could get him.’ Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the recipient of your staring began to move closer.

It only took a few moments for Art to reach yours and Ashley’s corner of refuge but his eyes never strayed from you. Zweig had followed him like a puppy and whilst you couldn’t have cared less where the brunette chose to stand, you could practically feel Ashley screaming in her head.

‘Aaliyah right? You basically murdered my friend out there yesterday.’ As Ashley corrected Patrick’s memory, you forced your eyes to look at anything that wasn’t Art’s knowing smirk in your direction. It didn’t work, in fact your refusal to make eye contact with the future star had made your feelings glaringly obvious.

You’d watched him play many times, instead of doing your own work, and although you found tennis a little boring the man had you riveted. The ease at which he hit the ball with such force, the little hand movements he’d do during a tie break and his cruel habit of taking his shirt off on hot days … you were hooked.

As he eyed your dress you wondered if he’d seen you, made note of just how many matches you’d been front and centre at. Maybe he knew you were an amateur photographer and perhaps his smirk was intended as a mockery of your being there. Art knew you didn’t belong at thee Tashi Duncan’s after party. You both knew it. He looked at you, finally as you’d lifted your gaze, and cocked his head slightly to the side.

‘So, you don’t like tennis?’

Shit.

‘Oh. You heard that.’

‘Yep.’

His voice was glazed with amusement as he sipped his cold beer, daring you to defend yourself.

‘Ashley was invited,’ you lied with little ease. ‘I’m here as her friend- well I guess also photographer but you all seem to have that covered.’ Both yours and Art’s eyes glanced at the gang of professionals taking Tashi’s photo. She was holding the shimmering trophy as if it was nothing of real value, she had the humble but proud smile down. Art clocked your jealous expression and raised an eyebrow. ‘Tashi not your favourite?’

‘She’s pretty amazing and she looks fucking beautiful tonight I can’t lie. I just, I guess I wish I was that talented.’

Despite her successful flirting to Patrick, Ashley heard your little, sad admission. Mentally you scolded yourself for letting Art see your vulnerable side. Instead of judgement he smiled.

‘Are you not the best at getting front row seats?’

He left off ‘at my matches’ but the point had been made loud and clear. You chose not to react and to ignore him completely. ‘Ashley?’ But when you turned your head to your friend you saw her mouth was occupied. Oh.

Art laughed at his best friend. ‘Seriously? You couldn’t go one night?’ No, Patrick couldn’t and he couldn’t find it in his horny heart to feel guilty for stealing your one friend and escape route from you. The pair, still connected by their lips, hurried away from the party and to some poor fucker’s bedroom. You were alone with Art Donaldson and the party that engulfed the two of you had began to die down.

‘I should go too-‘

‘Wanna go down to the beach with me?’

You couldn’t help but scoff audibly at his request. ‘You don’t even know my name.’

Art’s eyes practically gleamed with cheekiness as he moved towards you. ‘Then tell me.’

‘It’s Y/N.’

With a charming smile he repeated his offer. ‘Y/N… wanna go down to the beach with me?’

If a mind reader had been in attendance you’d have been mortified as your first thought was: Oh god have I even shaved?

The decision to take your heels off had been an impulsive one and an instant regret as you felt the brittle sand rub against your toes. Avoiding the broken glass, you walked into Art’s shoulder and quickly apologised. ‘You’re like a baby deer.’

You perched on the rock overlooking the water that moonlight reached. Art’s eyes were transfixed on you as your hair blew from your shoulders. Surely he was just bored and flirting for fun. But you hadn’t seen him speak to anyone except Patrick before approaching you.

‘What is it about photography?’ Art gestured to the camera you almost forgot you were still wearing around your neck.

‘What is it about tennis?’

Art lit his second cigarette, took a drag and smirked.

‘I’ll let you answer that.’

Much to his elation, your dress had begun to ride up but you hadn’t noticed. You simply dug your toes in the sand and smiled coyly at the blonde. But how to best handle this?

‘Watching you play tennis isn’t like watching other people play tennis.’

Art grinned, only for a moment, but you caught the ego boost in real time. He moved backwards in his chair, outstretching his long legs and looking up at you with keen interest and quiet amusement. ‘Go on.’

Your mind flashed back to his most recent match. His opponent had purposefully coughed every time it was Art’s turn to serve and instead of letting it distract him or doing it back Art had fired the ball, with force, by his head. It had been a warning, not a greatly subtle one but certainly great to watch. The shock on the boys face as he narrowly missed receiving a black eye had made you laugh and you suddenly remembered Art had beamed at you when you had.

‘You’re just really good at it.’

‘Try again.’

He wasn’t making this easy for you but that didn’t mean you had to shower him in compliments, not when he hadn’t so much as asked you your name until prompted. You watched him, completely settled and comfortable in Tashi Duncan’s deck hair and wondered if someone this confident and talented (and knew as much) could possibly be single… unless?

‘Are you and Patrick just friends?’

He twitched ever so slightly at your question before covering his shock with a chuckle.

‘Umm.. yes. Sorry to disappoint.’

You smiled, suddenly feeling more confident now that you’d put him on the spot for the first time that night.

‘Not disappointed.’

Seeing you at ease, seemingly with any answer he had to offer, Art relaxed into his chair again. A moment of silence passed as the two of you listened to the very end of the party above and the seas tumbling waves. The water was just beginning to reach the rock you’d been safely perching on. A sign to leave.

‘I think I should go back to my ho-AAA!’

You’d barely taken two steps before buried broken glass assaulted your feet.

‘Jesus fuck!’

‘Y/N!’

The pain shot through you from toe to head, it settled in between your eyebrows as you frowned, trying not to scream. Art’s face was a picture of panic. He couldn’t help but notice how much pain you were in from putting weight on your foot, which had just begun to bleed as a thought entered his head.

‘I’ll carry you.’

‘I think I can walk.’

You took a hesitant step further but your foot ,in an act of betrayal, buckled under the pain. Giving Art a look of defeat you sighed. ‘Yeah, I think you’re gonna have to.’

You thought it would feel strange, the man whom you’d been watching almost obsessively for months play a sport you despised carrying you to safety. It didn’t. It felt right. His strong arms flexed under your weight as he took confident but cautious steps to Tashi’s party. There wasn’t much left of it. In fact the only people still there were two photographers packing up their lighting equipment and they didn’t give you so much as a second glance.

‘Any chance you secretly are friends with Tashi?’ Art asked, his voice hopeful, hoping he could drop you off to safety. He pursed his lips when you shook your head. Another moment of silence passed through the two of you but this one was different. You craned your neck out to gage the distance before suggesting:

‘My hotel really isn’t far. A mile at most.’

Art smirked for a moment, forgetting what the actual circumstances were. Your foot had stopped bleeding but you didn’t feel like walking. In fact you were rather enjoying Art Donaldson: the knight in shining armour. It was a good look on him.

‘Uber?’

‘Think of it as a workout.’

It wasn’t the recreational workout Art had been hoping for that night but he did it. He carried you and your shoes to your hotel room. The receptionist barely reacted to your new person but of course what did she care? She was probably only concerned with what mess you’d leave the cleaners.

‘67, this is it.’

Art put you down, keeping his arm around your waist for support. He was a little flushed from the exertion and you were flushed from the pain, or perhaps just his wandering hand.

‘Do you want me to st-‘

‘I want you to stay.’ You interrupted him hurriedly, desperate for him to stay. In that moment you didn’t mind if he stayed to read the complimentary bible next to you or if he wanted to fuck you mercilessly in front of the bathroom mirror. You just wanted him close.

At your eagerness, Art smiled following you in. Your hotel room was not too messy for visitors but it certainly hadn’t been expecting any. For a moment you wondered how Ashley was getting on in her room down the hall and if she too had embarrassed herself in front of her favourite tennis player. Somewhat likely.

‘I think seeing as you’ve carried me bleeding you can see me in pyjamas. Give me one se-‘

You gestured to the bathroom and your dress, looking forward to getting out of it but Art shook his head. You froze. His face was one of sheer determination and unwavering confidence, not unlike the look he gave cocky opponents who needed humbling. He closed the gap between you until his chest was inches from yours but blocked by your camera. You took it off, not breaking eye contact, and placed it slowly on the desk behind you.

Just as you thought the only way to break the silence would be with a kiss, Art broke eye contact. ‘Do you have any antiseptic wipes? Anything to clean it?’ You felt your stomach unclench. ‘Yeah.’ Limping slightly, you fetched a packet from the bathroom sink and placed them in Art’s open palm. He gestured to the bed.

‘Sit.’

His order was polite but you felt compelled. Sitting on your own bed as if it was alien, you looked up at him waiting for the next.

‘Foot.’

Art got down on his knees. Your stomach flipped. With careful hands, he held your injured foot and inspected it. You’d never felt so exposed before, the way his eyes engaged with your wound as if it were more fascinating than any match he’d won. There was an unspoken rule for neither of you to speak as he cleaned you. It stung like a bitch but you only let out minor hisses in pain, barely audible to Art but not unnoticeable.

As he took out a plaster, seemingly from thin air, and applied it to your foot he said: ‘Before tonight,’ Ouch. You winced from the pressure he applied. ‘I’d seen you watching me.’ He didn’t look at you, only concentrating on his handiwork and causing you as little pain as possible.

‘Yeah I gathered from all the teasing.’

His voice grew suddenly lower. ‘I’m not talking about tennis matches.’

You were suddenly reminded of a not so distant memory. Ashley had stood you up for lunch, she’d found a better hot date, and you had been in the cafeteria alone. Art had been queuing in front of you, waiting for Patrick and you’d been in awe. What you hadn’t noticed was that he’d sensed your eyes burning holes into the back of his head long before he turned around. He had given you a passing look of recognition and slight amusement before finding his seat next to Patrick.

You imagined alongside that memory were hundreds others. Hundreds of days you’d stared at Art, watched how he span his apples before eating them and the line of his jaw when he drank water in oppressive heat. All the time he had known, you just hadn’t been as subtle as you thought.

‘Oh.’

Art gave you your foot back and sat on the bed beside you. For a moment you couldn’t bare to look at him, incase he disappeared and decided it was funnier to leave you hanging. Your foot was the least of your worries. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really kissed someone, with feverish need, but you wanted to.

Noticing your inward battle, Art raised his hands almost in defeat. ‘I can leave.’ He meant it, there was no judgement. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his clouded with lust, and recognised that this was a man who needed to be wanted. He wanted to give and receive pleasure, not out of boredom but out of a clawing need for it. If you wanted him to leave then he’d leave but if you wanted him to stay then he’d make the most of it.

Your hand settled atop of his.

‘Don’t.’

Part 2

Masterlist

[apprenticestanheight]

THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY TWO

Work Shirts - Lawrence Gordon x gn! reader

All right!! This is day two of my silly little christmas celebration, and of course I had to do what I've been procrastinating since basically the start of this account--write a Lawrence reader insert piece!

I love him wholeheartedly despite my lack of fics for him so this has definitely been a long time coming, and this one, much like yesterdays fic, stems from a thought I had—though with this thought, @mrkheartffmans and I went a lil feral together through the reblogs of the original post and thus, the fic concept came to light!

This is also a few years post trap because I was like "yeah working somewhere for a decade is cool but what about a decade and a half??" also—my mentality was that having it set a few years post-trap would be easier to write?? I don't know how true that actually is but it was my thought process lol.

This fic is for audiences of 18+, so minors, do not interact!

Fic type- this is mostly--almost entirely--smut. There's also angst if you squint because yeah, angst was bound to be present somewhere lol

Warnings- unprotected sex (reader is on BC), and as per usual, the reader is GN for all intents and purposes (petnames included), but I went with AFAB anatomy as that's the anatomy that I know best.

Lawrence wishes he could act like the surprise on the faces of his coworkers when he mentioned having the last two weeks of December off came as a surprise to him, but he can't and he kind of hates that.

Of course people are bound to be a little surprised by it. In the decade and a half that he's worked at Angels of Mercy, the only incident where he took any sizeable amount of time off was while he was recovering from the bathroom trap and could hardly stand, let alone walk like he used to.

But, in the three years since the bathroom trap and aside from that month long period where he allowed himself to recover before going back to work, he'd not taken a single day away. Being at work, seeing to patients and talking to people—even just going to work and filling out miscellaneous paperwork while he sat in the isolation of his office—kept his mind busy and his hands busier.

He came home from work every night and saw you, which just made his entire day as it were. You'd order food or make something quick and just spend your time lounging on the couch, occasionally get a little flirty, and laugh when Lawrences hands started wandering how they used to in the days of your masters degree and his days of medical school.

But, because of a backlog of PTO and the fact that he'd been overworking himself almost to the bone with the onslaught of people needing medical care during the last three months of the year, Lawrence decided to book the 14th through to the 2nd of January off so that he could get some rest and worry about housework so that you didn't have to worry at all, where you normally split the housework fifty-fifty.

Lawrence knew that your marketing job got really, really stressful during the last month of the year. People always unearthed different versions of themselves come the holidays, and all he wanted was for you to come home from your workday and not have to worry about menial things like a messy bathroom counter, week-old leftovers in need of throwing away or dishes not yet moved from the dishwasher to the cupboards.

He gets called into work for an emergency on the 21st, and after running to grab groceries during the afternoon on the 22nd, he's delighted to find what he does waiting for him in the bed you share.

You're typically home from work at around seven, sometimes eight thirty on particularly busy days, and when Lawrence arrives home, it's half past eight.

He goes into your bedroom, having indeed hoped to see you there or at least get a call about work running late with the promise of more details upon your arrival at home as he enters your shared bedroom, but what he sees is so much better than anything he could've hoped for.

You're sitting on the bed, back pressed against the head board, focused on whatever romance book you'd plucked from a charity bookstore on your way home, but it's not what you're reading that Lawrence really takes note of.

No, it's not the book at all, though he does note that the title makes it seem like something from either the regency or the victorian era. It's what you're wearing.

You're wearing the shirt he wore to work the previous day, buttons undone with the cufflinks you'd gifted him for christmas the year his residency ended still holding the sleeves of the shirt together, the duvet covering your legs and hips, which makes Lawrence assume you've stolen a pair of his sweatpants in addition to the shirt.

He knocks, lightly, on the side of the door, and you startle, looking up to the source of the knock and relaxing the minute you see his face.

"You startled me," you say, grinning and closing your book over your thumb so as not to lose your place. "I remember you told me you'd be getting groceries around when I would get home, so I stole one of your shirts and settled in. Figured we could order Thai food or something to that effect, have a late dinner and relax."

Lawrence runs his tongue over his lips, notices the keen way with which you watch him do it.

"Yeah," he grins, further enters the room. "That sounds lovely. I grabbed the last of the necessary ingredients for dinner Christmas Day so that you wouldn't have to worry—I know that work has been something of a mess for you lately and I want to make sure you have the opportunity to relax when you come home."

He approaches the bed, watches you place the book you'd been reading open on your nightstand beneath the lamp.

"I don't deserve you," you laugh.

You've been dating since you were starting up with your masters a year after getting your bachelors degree when you were twenty-three and Lawrence was two years into medical school at twenty-four.

You've been married since you were twenty-five and twenty-six, and seventeen years down the line, you both knew that marrying each other was the best possible thing either of you could've done with regard to the romantic part of your lives, and while you were married you ended up doing the best possible things for your respective careers so it worked in both of your favors regardless.

You were Lawrences rock, especially so in the aftermath of the bathroom trap, and he was yours and would be such forevermore.

"You're right," he says, moving away from the bed to grab a pair of sweatpants. "You deserve more, but I do strive to be what you deserve day in and day out."

"Don't say that," you chide. "You're perfect, Lawrence. I wouldn't've married you had I thought otherwise, I promise."

He can feel your gaze on him as he slips out of the khaki pants he wears, deciding to go commando and put a pair of light gray sweatpants on for comfort. He changes out of the black button up he'd chosen to wear, pulls a baggy dark blue Henley over his torso and climbs into bed beside you, pressing kiss after kiss down the line of your jaw and across your neck.

"How stressful has work been?" He asks, tone genuine but also slightly seductive.

"Oh, so stressful," you laugh, knowing exactly what he's doing and the fact that seeing you in one of his shirts and just one of his shirts has spurred that on by a mile. "I think if I have to hear one more coworker complaining about last minute shopping during the last few days before Christmas Eve or even on Christmas Eve in and of itself, I will start causing heads to roll. December is the worst time to be in the offices because everyone stops caring about year-end quotas and making sure things are good going into next year and starts caring about whatever gossip is being spread around. It's dreadful, Lawrence."

He pauses, looking at you with genuine sympathy in his gaze. "I'm sorry—I feel gross. I didn't mean to attempt to proposition you for sex like that. I really do want to hear about your day and I'm sorry it's been so terrible, my love. Are you going to book time off?"

You grin. Lawrence is ever-so considerate, always apologizing and stepping back if he's done something in a way that he doesn't appreciate midway through.

"You're going to be stuck with me from tomorrow through to the second," you say. "And—for the record, I didn't hate it. I like it when you proposition me for sex with kisses because your kisses are quite honestly one of the best parts of being married to you. Plus, I have had a stressful month and I won't lie and say that my current outfitting was just for comfort. Sure, bare ass on satin sheets is an amazing feeling, but I was hoping that I'd get the reaction I did, admittedly."

Lawrence tilts his head inquisitively. "You're not—you're—I thought you'd taken a pair of my sweatpants," he grins, moves a hand to your thigh. Sure enough, it's bare. "Oh, Christmas must've come early."

You laugh. "You fuckin' wish," you say, ignoring the goosebumps that Lawrences touch brings on.

You unbutton the few buttons done up on the shirt, press your back against the headboard.

"Stressful month, yeah baby?" Lawrence is almost beaming as his hand moves from your thigh to your stomach, lazily perusing up your chest.

You clench your jaw, squeeze your arms against your sides because you are not going to give in to your handsome husband and his illustrious whims just with a few touches and some whispered sentiments.

"So stressful, Lawrence," you nod. "So, so stressful."

"Do you need a way to destress?" His thumb and first finger locate your nipple, and you exhale a breathy moan, quiet and already wanting to give in to his whims. "If you do, I think I could be of assistance."

"Lawrence," you moan, quiet and needy. "Oh, fuck, Lawrence."

Lawrence moves his hand away from you for a second, only to take off his shirt and the sweatpants he wears before he's back to kissing your neck and letting his hands roam across your chest.

A few minutes of much the same passes by, Lawrences kisses lining your neck and jawline and face and your ethereal lips while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. His hand dips to your folds for just a few minutes, taking your slick onto his fingers and laughing against your shoulder.

"You're so wet for me already," he says. "Fuck, you're perfect."

"Wanna ride you," you're almost stunned at how evenly the words fall from your lips but not at all stunned when Lawrence agrees.

He pulls you onto his lap, lets you grind against his half-hard cock until it's fully hard and you're begging to feel him inside of you and moans when you bottom out, gaze watching you intently as his hands settle on your hips.

"Lawrence," you whisper. "Fuck."

A smile spreads onto Lawrences face before he can stop it, and when you start riding him, he presses his back against the headboard, one hand on your hip while the other lightly holds your chin so as to keep your gaze on his.

You get lost in how good it feels within the space of a minute, maybe two—Lawrence's cock is long and thick, and even if riding it takes some adjusting occasionally, it still becomes very enjoyable very quickly.

"You're so wonderful for me, Y/N," he says. "Oh, this never gets old."

He's loving how you feel around him, clenching occasionally and moaning after a particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot, and you're just—it's just perfect.

And then, Lawrence gets an idea. He moves the hand that's cupping your face to your wrist, which is attached to the hand that you use to grope relentlessly at yourself, rolling your nipples between your thumb and first finger, sometimes moving to rub your clit.

"The cufflinks, baby," he says. "Don't touch yourself, mm? Use those for me."

He watches you press the cold silver cufflink against one of your nipples, moans as you clench around him at the sensation of the cold meeting your warm skin. You moan in turn, pressing the metal against your nipples and moaning his name.

He moves a hand back to your chin, placing his first and middle finger against your bottom lip. You take the hint immediately and bring his fingers into your mouth, grinding down onto him as you do.

"You're so good for me, pet," he says, moving the hand that rests on your hip to your clit. He starts rubbing it with practiced expertise, knowing the way you like it best after nearly two decades of marriage. "Oh, this is amazing. You can steal my work shirts whenever you want, okay? Especially the ones with the cufflinks. You're amazing."

You moan at the praise, pressing the cufflinks against yourself further, loving the way that the metal feels against your sensitive nipples.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and goes back to holding your chin so as to keep your gaze on his, wanting to watch you orgasm.

You come completely undone when Lawrence speeds up his ministrations on your clit just enough to make you want more, and Lawrence watches.

You thrust your way through the aftershocks, at which point Lawrence releases into you and lets your chin free from his light grip, kissing you and offering praise as he does.

He pulls you off of him and gets a bath set up, helping you into it while giving you more praise and pressing kisses along the back of your neck and shoulder blades because the orgasm had left you both completely and totally breathless.

You bathe in light conversation, once again talking about your days but focusing on the more positive parts, and Lawrence lets you steal a Henley from the days of medical school. You pull a pair of boxers on and curl up in bed next to him, falling asleep only seconds before Lawrence does.

[mac-lilly]

Mega Con London BTS Recap

Since this is a more personal recap of MegaCon London (and a bit of a comparison with Back to the Musical World con by Dream It), I didn't include it in the JATP info dump from yesterday.

BTTMW backstory

Let's do some backstory first. As you may know, the official JATP cancellation was announced at the first Back to the Musical World con back in 2021. I wasn't there for multiple reasons including Covid but also I just got into the fandom and it felt weird. I'm socially awkward - I cannot look into people's eyes, I stutter - especially when talking English - or ramble and I struggle to just touch strangers which is not helpful for photo ops.

So what I was supposed to do there? These people are actors - strangers I have nothing to do with. They aren't the characters I've fallen in love with. Yeah, not my thing, I thought.

However, when the BTTMW2 got announced, I was like 'You know, let's go to just show the cast how much you loved the show'. It was supposed to give me some closure. So I went.

And while the con was a fucked-up disaster in terms of organization and schedule - on Sunday, Charlie signed autographs until 10 pm, and Owen would have done the same if his mom hadn't cut off his line. (On that note: Never mess with a German mom protecting her kid. You'll lose.) But meeting the cast was an entirely different experience. I'd never interacted with them before, so I was anxious as fuck. However, they were so nice and considerate - and seeing them goof around was just adorable.

(And this pic is still one of my fav pics ever.)

And not just the cast. I met so many amazing people there who are now my friends. Big shoutout to them!

So, despite my hatred for Dream It, I went to BTTMW4 (and thankfully it was less chaotic than BTTMW2). But I was also determined to go to MegaCon bc I knew Jeremy wouldn't come back to Paris. (Unlike the other JATP cast members, he's done plenty of other cons before and knows that you shouldn't be so drained that require alcohol to make it through the day.)

BTTMW vs MegaCon London

So, just in general: MegaCon was clearly the better experience.

Firstly, it was cheaper than DI. Much cheaper.

(Note 1: The * prices are from 2022 since Jeremy wasn't at BTTMW4. In 2023, the photo with Madi, Owen & Charlie was already €180. All four would have been over €200 for sure.

Note 2: The prices for MegaCon were originally in £. The price in € is what I paid according to my credit card.

Note 3: Even though not 100% accurate: € = $)

Obviously, Charlie canceled later. But I automatically got a refund. So bonus for MegaCon.

Unlike with Dream It, you were allowed to film and take pictures everywhere, which was cool. And since the panels were exclusively in English, you actually got way more content. The panels were also much longer, and it seemed like the cast was more at ease. For example, Owen started to play body drums on stage, and he initiated the boomshakalaka without being drunk. This is such an incredibly sad thing to say, but I've never seen him that relaxed during a panel.

Also, shoutout to the many fans that were at the Saturday panel. According to the hist, it was the largest crowd they had on Saturday. (If MegaCon had been smarter and had announced the Sunday panel before the people got their passes, it would have had a huge audience, too.)

The autographs ran smoothly, and there was always a queue, which was good bc Own confirmed that it was Jeremy who convinced MegaCon to invite him and Charlie. (Madi got invited later - I assume after people haunted them on IG about her.) MegaCon was wary about it bc they had no idea if the cast was worth the money. I hope the audience on Saturday, the lines for the autographs, and the massive delays at the photo studio caused by the JATP fans (and technical issues) convinced them.

Side note: After Charlie canceled, I got an email from MegaCon. And obviously, I know they just used some phrases to placate us. But I still hope they meant it when they wrote,

MegaCon, you won't read this. But if you get them again, I'll be there!

(And again shoutout to the amazing people I met in London. To my fellow German tumblr friends: I loved meeting you guys and hanging out with you!)

So the only thing that wasn't great were the photo ops. Yeah, most of the Saturday photos are terrible bc of the fucked-up lighting, and due to technical issues, there were so many delays. (Though to be fair, BTTMW also had issues with photo ops.)

So overall, I genuinely enjoyed MegaCon, and I'm very excited to head off to Dublin on Saturday to give Jeremy the birthday card. To all the people who signed it: THANK YOU!

Some other random things that don't fit anywhere

Not Owen assuming that Deutsche Bahn must always be on time bc Germans are always on time. Bro, I know it's been a while since you visited Germany ... but please, that was mean.

When I gave him ghostie!Willie, Owen told me how much his family loves the little ghosties 🥹🥹🥹 (which explains why his dad was in my IG stories after he posted the pic of the ghosties.)

It's random, but this con was so much more balanced in terms of fans. I remember fans being kinda uninterested in Jeremy at the BTTMW - some fans even got angry at him bc he refused certain poses. At MegaCon, the interest was equally split between those three, and it made me happy.

Here's the lovely ghost merch I bought at MegaCon. Obviously, the pride ghost and the skateboard ghost are Willex, the couple is Juke, and the ghosts with the kitty and the one with the pumpkin are both Reggie! (I talked to the guys running the stalls, and they were so baffled about all the JATP fans - a few Fantoms came over from the US and Canada just for this con.)

[nicxl333]

MY LOVE, MY EVERYTHING— ISAGI YOICHI X BLACK!READER

summary: it seems the world is unanimously adamant to find out who pro athlete isagi has chosen to settle down with. can you handle the pressure?

characters: pro athlete!isagi yoichi, black!fem reader

contents: tooth rotting fluff, slight angst (if you squint), insecurity, mentions of bullying, reader has curly hair, blue lock manga spoilers

when the world found out superstar football player isagi yoichi was taken, it was all anyone could talk about for weeks on end. there was endless speculation on which model or actress it could be. anyone who was recently in contact with isagi was an instantaneous suspect.

however, it was none of the above.

it was you, his longtime childhood friend. his sweet, beautiful and caring next door neighbour, who he spent 6 of his younger years living next to before he started off on his journey as a professional footballer at 18.

you hadn’t always been amicable with each other though. in middle school you were shy and reserved, having just moved to japan at 12. it was a new environment for you, especially at such a young age. your mother had always made sure to talk to you in japanese to get you accustomed before you had moved, but it was one thing to talk japanese with someone you know, and then to talk with people you didn’t. it was out of your comfort zone.

to make matters worse, being the only black person in your school made it hard. your curly hair and brown melanated skin made you stand out from others, always getting looks from someone, be it amusement or disgust. you became a constant topic for bullying by your class peers.

as a method of protection you therefore kept yourself to yourself, only speaking when spoken to.

until one day, when isagi yoichi would approach you, football in hand, evidently about to make his way to the school pitch.

“hey, what’s your name?”

you looked straight at him, eyes widening at the shock that someone would actually speak to you, quickly becoming apprehensive should the boy in front of you have any ill intent. he…didn’t look like he did though, and knowing how others acted around him you knew that isagi weren’t one of the mean guys. he was quite popular, due to his association with the school football team.

“…l/n. l/n y/n.”

“that’s a cool name. what’s up with your hair? it looks weird- wait!”

nevermind. he weren’t different after all.

you sighed, standing up from your homeroom seat, not allowing him to finish what he was saying. you kept your bag in hand while walking out of the room, leaving isagi alone. it seemed like everyone in japan was a certified dickhead. sure you may have overreacted, but call it a defence point because you’ve heard those same words before from others who bullied you all the same.

you lay in your bed that night, softly crying to yourself, wondering why you just couldn’t be accepted.

the next day you collected yourself together, deciding to leave the past in the past and at least attempt to get by.

you walked through the halls of your school with the intent to grab yourself lunch, having forgotten to pack a bento for yourself. as you stood in the lunch queue you felt a light tap on your left shoulder, turning your head to catch a glimpse of the owner, eyebrows furrowing when you saw the same guy who pissed you off yesterday, isagi.

“hey, erm… i wanted to-”

you refused to hear him out, walking away immediately and coming to the conclusion that starving was better than having a conversation with him.

after that, things continued as normal for about a week with mostly no trouble. isagi didn’t try to talk to you again and you went about your business.

it just so happened one fateful day that you were making your way home, passing by the large football pitch just in front of the school building. you saw none other than isagi yoichi repeatedly doing target practice, shooting flawlessly in your eyes, but letting out a loud groan and trying again, clearly agitated by his performance. you stopped in your tracks, mesmerised by his sheer dedication for the sport, eyes widening when he eventually stopped and turned to see you standing there, caught in the act.

embarrassed, you made a move to walk away to save face, halting once more when he called out your name.

“l/n!”

he jogged up to you, breathing heavily once he was right in front of you, silent for a moment before continuing.

“i— uh, are you okay? you looked spaced out for a bit.”

“i’m…fine, thanks.”

the tension in the air was highly awkward, neither party knowing what to say, especially because isagi knew you didn’t particularly favour him. doesn’t mean he can’t try and rectify his wrongs though.

“i wanna apologise to you l/n, i didn’t mean to say your hair looks weird, i just didn’t know how to describe it in that moment. i think it’s cool, honestly. your curls are really nice. please forgive me, i swear to you i wasn’t trying to be mean.”

you stood, all walls up and feeling very defensive. you didn’t know what to do. in reality, isagi was the only person besides your mother who seemed to have a genuine interest in you. call it cowardice, but you’d rather that than have to experience more anguish than you’ve already gone through. however, the reality is, and it’s something you would just have to understand someday, that you grow and learn from different experiences. and perhaps, isagi was the best experience to start with.

from that day on, you and isagi became close friends, traversing through life together. he was there through it all; family events, sleepovers, fun days out. you two were inseparable, and it was only a matter of time before both of you realised you had feelings each other. that day came when you broke up with your first boyfriend at 16 due to him cheating.

isagi came over, holding you close while you clutched him and cried your eyes out, rubbing soothing circles onto your back.

you sat up on his couch, tears in your eyes and emotions on an all time high. he wiped both tears with his thumbs and held your face. you personally believed you looked a mess, but all he could think of was how damn beautiful you looked. and before he could stop himself, the words he’d been wanting to say to you through your whole relationship tumbled out of his mouth.

“he doesn’t deserve you y/n. he shouldn’t be allowed to make you feel this way. he shouldn’t be allowed to hurt you when all i want to do is love you.”

you both froze, processing the words he just spoke. he wanted to take them back immediately, but he couldn’t. not when he knows he meant every single word.

you stared into his eyes, his dark, blue irises that stared hard into yours. his dark hair framing his face so prettily. that cowlick that you admired more times than you’d like to admit. his posture shook slightly, with the anxious anticipation of what you would say back.

you didn’t speak however, letting your actions speak for itself. you reached up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and planting a long kiss that spoke a thousand words for you. he immediately kissed back, eyebrows pinching together with desperation as he placed a hand on top of your head, the other wrapped around your waist.

on that day, you left one doomed relationship and began a blossoming new one. and boy were you glad you did, for isagi was the best partner you could ever ask for for. although football was a high priority, you were even higher, making sure you were taken care of before himself. when you had your monthly period, he’d always buy your favourite snacks. he’d also memorise which hair products you used, buying them when you ran out. it wasn’t just you who loved isagi, your mother did too. she was always rooting for you to get together, as isagi was the most perfect gentleman. helping her with groceries, washing up dishes when he had dinner or stayed over at your house and always so polite no matter what.

when the letter from blue lock came, inviting him to partake, it was you who persuaded him to put himself first for once. you reassured him you would be there once he came out.

imagine his surprise when he saw you in the stands during the u20 match between blue lock and the japan national team cheering him on with his old school team jersey displaying his name on the back. you had attended with his mother and father. he had to calm himself down on the pitch as he blushed furiously.

and when they won? oh how your smile lit up the stadium, cheering louder than anyone else could, clutching his mother when he scored the winning goal. he noticed your hair was in braids, and you looked prettier than ever.

eventually the blue lock program came and ended, his professional career springing to life. and with his increasing media attention over the years he gained many fans who wanted to know more about him. by this point you were living together, your relationship thriving at the ripe age of 23. you had both decided to keep your relationship private though, for the sake of your safety in particular.

but now, the world wanted to know just who isagi’s partner was. he had made it clear he was off the market, but made no mention of who, taking upon themselves to play matchmaker and pair isagi up with any and every famous figure he came into contact with. and it just so happened you had enough one day.

“-‘yoi, i wanna be real with you for a second, i don’t like what the tabloids are saying baby.”

you and isagi were stood in the kitchen. he was stood behind you while your head was bent into the sink. he was washing your hair. you had just taken out your braids (with his help) and wanted to do a wash and go for the next week coming up.

he pondered on your statement for a second while he massaged your scalp which had shampoo in it, effectively lathering it.

“i know my love, i’m tired too. i can’t even do paired sponsorships without the media crawling up my neck. i know we’re private, but they should be able to get the idea that i don’t want them prying.”

you pulled the towel higher up your neck, feeling it slipping slightly, exposing your neck to a few water droplets as isagi rinsed your hair, preparing to condition it.

“it just—” you paused for a moment, partly not wanting to continue. “it makes me feel inadequate, knowing that the world are expecting you to be with a super hot and famous model or actor…how are they gonna react when they eventually find out that i’m neither of those things? just simple, plain old…me.”

he paused in the middle of distributing the conditioner to your hair. he pulled you up gently, turning you so you faced him, the water from your hair soaking into the towel.

“y/n, baby, don’t let the media bring you down like that. whoever i date is my business, not theirs. and if they’re disappointed by whoever that may be, then fuck them. disrespectfully. they don’t get to see just how much of a joy to my life you are. they don’t deserve it. and super hot model? don’t make me laugh. they should be scared if you ever enter the modelling industry because you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen. no one can compare to you. and you’d better believe that.”

his words brought you back to many years ago when he was consoling you after your first breakup. those similar words that reminded you just how lucky your were to have such a sweet boyfriend like isagi.

he kissed you, thumb caressing your chin as he held you tenderly.

“c’mon, let’s finish your hair. we’re getting wet.”

“when has that ever stopped you? last night says enough about that.”

“you’ll find out if you don’t put your head back in that sink y/n.”

you let out a laugh, complying for the sake of getting your hair finished.

once the conditioner was evenly distributed he picked up your detangling brush, making sure to brush out all tangles and knots in sections. after some time he was done, rinsing out all the product and squeezing your hair to wring out the water, promptly wrapping the towel that was once around your neck around your hair, to further bring out any excess water.

you both then walked into your shared bedroom, while isagi placed you to stand in front of the tall mirror in your bedroom. he grabbed your hair products and your wide toothed comb and numerous hair ties.

he walked back to you and placed it all onto a table besides the both of you, allowing you to start your routine. you let the towel fall from your head, your hair falling into place. just as you were about to start combing through your hair again isagi stopped you, wrapping his arms around you, phone in hand and placing a kiss to your cheek, snapping a picture.

you smiled at the gesture, feeling butterflies in your stomach. one thing about isagi was he never failed to make you feel some type of way about him, and you fell in love with him harder each time.

“what was that for ‘yoi?”

“can i post it? i want the world to see us, see you and how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

you immediately grinned, turning around and kissing him deeply.

“okay. let’s break the internet.”

bro i need a typa love like this *cries*

[spnexploration]

Collared part 29

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: Sam and Dean loosen up their protections a little.

Warnings: none particularly

Word count: 1.8k

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

A/N: Had to queue this up while I'm away, so apologies for not updating the mastlist or providing links to other chapters yet. Fixed now!

Part 28 <- -> Part 30

“Y/N,” Dean started at breakfast the next morning, “I think maybe Sam and I have been a bit, uh, overprotective and maybe it hasn't really been helping you adjust.” He'd been thinking a lot about what you'd said yesterday.

“Oh?” you said. He was pleased to see that you hadn't instantly reacted negatively to him.

“So, we have a suggestion, if you're up for it. There are some woods around the bunker, pretty secluded. We umm, thought you might want to go outside for a bit?”

Your face lit up, but then was overtaken with fear again. He wanted to wipe away your fear forever, but he knew he couldn’t.

“We’ll be with you the whole time. I, uh, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out alone yet. But, we don't want you to feel like you’re, you know, stuck in here.” He hated how nervous he felt, how nervous he was clearly coming across as.

“When?”

“Uh, whenever you want. I just gotta grab some angel blades and we'll be good to go whenever you want.”

“Angel blades?” you said, biting your lip. Crap, he thought, he didn't want to scare you more.

“They work on demons too. But don't worry, we are 99.9% sure absolutely nothing will happen. We're just grumpy buggers who hate being caught unaware.”

You nodded. “Umm, can we do it after breakfast?”

“Sure.”

---

Dean made you wait at the bottom of the stairs with Sam while he checked outside.

“Do you always do this before you go outside?” you asked Sam.

“Well, no, but I'm a 6’4 monster hunter with concealed weapons on me at all times,” he said with a grin. You laughed.

“Ok, point taken.” After a pause you added, “Do you really have concealed weapons on you at all times?”

“Umm, yep, pretty much.”

“Wow.”

Dean called out to say it was all clear and Sam gestured for you to head up the stairs first. You felt suddenly apprehensive, you hadn't been out since the failed shopping attempt. You even remembered being afraid of sunlight, with the collar on.

“We don't have to do this if you're not ready,” Sam said quietly behind you. “But I want you to know that I think you can do this.” He reached out and squeezed your hand. You took a deep breath and started to walk up the stairs.

You felt the sun on your skin. You breathed in the scent of the trees. You could see a horizon. It was magic.

Dean gave you an encouraging nod as you started to walk towards the woods. He and Sam trailed after you, staying close enough that they could get to you but giving you space. You quickly forgot about them, caught up in the experience.

There were birds. You had forgotten what they sounded like. They weren’t flashy or particularly impressive, just... Birds!!

You reached out and touched the trees. You picked up a leaf, crunching it in your hand. You could smell a sort of... freshness. It was beautiful.

You saw the perfect tree. Sturdy looking branches starting low enough and spaced a good distance apart. You ran to the tree, laughing, and began to climb up.

“You get up that thing, you better be able to get yourself down!” Dean called, a smile in his voice. “I am not rescuing you from a tree!”

“You wouldn't have to,” you called back. “I'm barely higher than Sam’s eyebrows!” You heard them both laugh.

You climbed higher, feeling a sense of elation and purpose.

“We sure she's not still delusional?” Dean stage whispered to Sam. “This has pretending to be a fairy written all over it.”

“How do you know I don't pretend to be a fairy all of the time?” He laughed.

You sat in the tree for a while, watching the world go past. “You boys should see the view up here - it's beautiful!”

“Dean's too stocky for trees,” Sam teased. “Bow legs can't hold on either.”

You sat there for a while longer, taking it all in.

Finally, you decided to climb back down. For all of Dean's jokes, he certainly seemed concerned watching you climb down. His arm came up behind you as if to catch you. It was sweet, although you were fine.

“Gonna have to give you a new nickname,” Dean remarked. “That was far from Bambi-esque.”

“She can't have Squirrel, that's you,” Sam laughed. “Although in your case it's because you look like one, rather than any skillset.”

Dean glared at his brother, “Shut up, Moose.”

“I think our Y/N still has some wide-eyed Bambi in her,” Sam said affectionately. “Even if she is swinging through trees like a monkey.”

You laughed, enjoying spending time with them. “You wanna do some more, Bambi?” Dean asked.

“Nah, I think I’d like some water now.”

The trio started to walk back to the bunker in a companionable silence. Just as you got to the door, you said quietly, “Thank you.”

“No worries, Y/N. Any time you wanna come out here, just let one of us know.”

---

You headed to your room after lunch, but after a while started to feel restless. Perhaps spending all of your time hiding away wasn’t the best strategy.

You went looking for the brothers.

You found Dean sitting at a table, surrounded by an arsenal of guns. One was in pieces in front of him. He looked up at you, “You ok? Something wrong?”

“No, just, umm, bit sick of my room.”

He smiled. “You're welcome to stay here and keep me company while I clean, if you'd like. Or Sam might be able to find you a book, or there's always the TV.”

“How- how do you clean them?”

He looked at you thoughtfully, “You making conversation or are you interested in me teaching you about guns? I can do either.”

You bit your lip, hesitant to ask for what you want. His body language was open, relaxed. You took a steadying breath, “I think I'd like to learn.”

He smiled encouragingly. “Ok, what do you know about guns?”

“Only what Sam told me when you went after the witch, and I'm not sure I can remember it all.”

“Ok, no problem. Learning how it all fits together is a good first step anyway.”

He was patient, explaining what he was doing and answering all of your questions.

“Why do you have so many?”

He laughed, “Because Sam is a slacker who doesn't like doing it. You see Sammy field stripping his firearm and you start wondering what he's worried about.”

You laughed with him. They never really complained about each other when you had the collar on, but now you were getting to see more of their good-natured ribbing of each other. Dean kept up the conversation, teaching you more than you'd ever known there was to know about guns.

“Ok, now push that in and slide this piece backwards,” Dean said, encouraging you to learn how to pull a small handgun apart. You were struggling with it, unable to get it to work properly. Dean reached over to help you, his hands wrapping around yours to guide your fingers.

You froze. You suddenly felt trapped, even though you knew exactly what he was doing and why. Your emotional response didn't seem to care about that, it just detected danger and went with it. You felt your breathing quicken.

Dean seemed to realise you'd stopped trying. He looked up to your face and then quickly dropped his hands.

“Crap, sorry Y/N. I didn't mean to scare you.”

You dropped the gun. It clattered to the table, and you jumped at the sound.

Dean backed away from you, hands up in surrender position. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he said in a calming voice. “I'm going to go now, I think I'm scaring you. I'll get Sam, ok?” He backed away slowly, out the door. You heard him down the corridor calling “Sammy!”

You tried to calm your breathing. You weren't even sure why you were panicking, you weren't afraid of Dean. But his strong hands enveloping yours around the cold, hard surface of the gun triggered something. You couldn't remember a particular instance where something like that happened, but the feeling of a strong man's hands controlling you was familiar.

Sam appeared, looking worried. “Hey, Y/N,” he said in a soft, calm voice from the other side of the room, “How are you going?”

“I’m- I’m- I'm ok.” He edged closer to you, watching your reaction. It didn't trigger your fight / flight / freeze this time, so you gave him a small nod. He moved closer again. “I just,” you continued, your voice still a little shaky, “I dunno, suddenly I was panicking.”

He stood closer to you and opened his arms. You stepped forward gratefully and hugged him.

“It's ok,” he murmured. “You're safe.”

You let yourself be hugged for a minute or so, calming your racing heart and breathing.

“You wanna talk about what happened?” Sam asked gently when you pulled away.

“I don't even know. I wasn't scared of Dean. I just, I dunno, suddenly felt trapped.”

He rubbed his hands gently up your arms. “It's probably not what you want to hear, but unfortunately sometimes these things might just happen. You went through a lot and it takes time.”

You nodded. You were trying to reassure yourself that it was to be expected, not your fault.

Suddenly, you remembered- “Dean! Is he ok?”

Sam smiled at you, “He's fine, Y/N. He just wanted to make sure you were, and he didn't think his presence was helping you calm down.”

“Where is he now? I want to apologise.”

“You don't need to apologise, and you don't need to put yourself in any situations that make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, I want to talk to him. Where is he?”

Sam studied your face for a moment before relenting, “I don't know for sure, but my best guess is the garage. He often works on the car when he's feeling stressed.”

---

Dean looked up and saw you walking into the garage. He couldn’t get over the look on your face when he’d tried to help you with the gun, but you looked better now. He wiped his hands on the grease cloth and stepped out from under Baby’s hood.

“I’m sorry about before,” you said tentatively.

“You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart. I should’ve known not to touch you.”

“I don’t- I don’t want you to avoid touching me, Dean. I just freaked out, but it wasn’t about you. I wasn’t scared of you. I was just, I dunno, scared for some reason.”

“Ok,” he said sincerely, “thank you for telling me.”

“So, um, what are you doing out here?”

He chuckled, “Honestly? Checking you didn't break anything when you were poking around in here.”

You laughed. He was relieved, he’d been worried that joke would tank. “Do you, umm, mind some company?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Any time.”

.

.

.

Tag list:

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[eteisvalssi]

i promised to post some thoughts from both of the concert days at kulttuuritalo so i'm gonna be putting them under a read more :)

saturday 2.3.

i arrived at the venue some time before 9 am

i feel like i always say this but the people that i hang out with at concerts and while queueing are always super nice. i got to know new people, meet mutuals and hang out with so many people i'd gotten to know at previous gigs i'd been to

just remembered that i think i forgot to thank @king-krisu for letting me tag along to their apartment to warm up my pizza that tasted like cardboard so i'm doing it now, kiitos!

buying hand and foot warmers for the queueing was the best purchase ever

when we were let inside, the staff was apparently not informed on where the cloakroom was actually open and if people who were over 18 but didn't have the ticket could go to the +18 side and everything was just a mess and ppl were running around and didn't know where to go

i did get front row on kris' side and it was actually my first time there, i'd always been on jan and nace's side before that

i've listened to pilvet pilvet for a while now and i was so happy to actually see them live, couldn't ask for a better opener

jc stewart was also very good! i'd never heard of him or his songs before but i tried to learn some of them before the gig lol

i feel like we've all seen so much from the soundcheck and gigs from videos and photos that i don't really have that much to add

when kiki came to put the setlist right in front of us we were like no it can't be this short they're definitely gonna play more songs. and they didn't 🥲

it was so nice to see them all actually move around a lot more now that they could

kris kicked straight towards me multiple times during the show and i kept thinking what have i done to deserve this

i completely fell in love with šta bih ja and bluza was so good too!!!

jan and bojan playing the piano <3

as the first gig on tour i kinda felt like they were still warming up after not performing for a while but still it was so good and i loved this concert so much

after the concert i went out with some friends i first met at the gig in tampere on the nordic tour :)

sunday 3.3.

i was supposed to go hang out in the queue for the day but i slept so bad and i was honestly in a bad mood because of that so i just stayed in bed for the whole day until it was time to leave to the venue with my friend and we were there just before the doors opened

i already posted my friend's thoughts from the show as a non-fan and you can find it here

i have a lot of thoughts that i wrote down on monday about going to a concert as a fan with a non-fan vs. alone but i'm not gonna be yapping about it in this post

i was kinda far back and i'm short so i didn't really see that well and i made the mistake of wearing a hoodie instead of what i was planning to wear so it was also extremely hot

this setlist was more to my taste with barve oceana and padam

the new song took me straight on a cruise ship to sweden

when they announced ruisrock the response of the audience was so loud!

i had a fan with me and i was fanning myself during vse kar vem and i just saw bojan looking at me kinda worried but when he saw me singing along he smiled and i almost started crying

i feel like they were more relaxed during this concert and that's understandable with the first concert being more of a rehearsal as the first concert of the whole tour

when we got out literally everyone was freaking out about everything that happened and saying how much better it was than yesterday

i was so tired and felt kinda sick that we just went to get some food after sitting down for a while and then i went back to my hotel room and that was it

overall i had a such a fun weekend! thanks to everyone who i spent time with <3 would've loved to talk to even more of you guys! next up is london and of course ruisrock in the summer :)

[piggyette]

i treat ask games like surveys this is make me admit stuff by lost-head-adventure or smth idk its deactiviated

Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

not including messages i consider too private to share on tumblr. yes

You talked to an ex today, correct?

nope.

Have you taken someones virginity?

no i dont think so. all of my partners have been more experienced than me

Is trust a big issue for you?

yes ): im working on it

Did you hang out with the person you like recently?

i like lots of people but as far as "crushes", no not recently. i should though

What are you excited for?

my partner system to get home from work. our next grocery run. autumn. my birthday next month

What happened tonight?

i posted about that today but, other than all that, i ate some pizza... honestly i should write or record or something tonight

Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?

no? wasted chicks are super funny

Is confidence cute?

confidence is hot yeah

What is the last beverage you had?

a monster. i should get water or something

How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?

none but i dont really talk to a lot of people. only the women in my family and i cant trust them. its not about being the opposite sex tho

Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?

yes

What are you gonna do Saturday night?

its sunday rn but yesterday i cried so hard i gave myself a headache and listened to a new album

What are you going to spend money on next?

probably a new microphone or sushi

Are you going out with the last person you kissed?

yes

Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?

yes? of course

Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

my partner system, but specifically mar, rich, robin, and trent

The last time you felt broken?

today at like 7pm

Have you had sex today?

yeah lol <3

Are you starting to realize anything?

being 23 aint shit. i dont know fuckin anything.

Are you in a good mood?

its alright. could be better

Would you ever want to swim with sharks?

yeah theyre chill

Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?

no thank gawd. otherwise id be the type of douchebag to go around calling my shit hazel.

What do you want right this second?

a haircut... jack... a punch to the jaw. (not sft text beyond this point to the end of the answer) to be dressed up in vinyl lingerie to match someone elses military gear and ride his dick while gagging on his fingers

What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

nothing. id end up in jail

Is your current hair color your natural hair color?

nah i recently dyed my roots again. its black but im a natural blonde

Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

usually people who arent intentionally witty are unintentionally hilarious so thats hard to picture. but if our humor just isnt compatible i mean. maybe. probably not tho that speaks to a lot of other shit

What was the last thing that made you laugh?

@fuckin-pistol-whipped's replies

Do you really, truly miss someone right now?

yeah. sunset eyes, if this somehow gets back to you, im sorry i didnt give you a better warning. ill be back sooner than you know. it wont be months this time. i want to figure something out but i dont want to keep giving you half promises. soon, i dont know when. i love you. it means something, i swear.

Does everyone deserve a second chance?

yeah id say so

Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?

sometimes <3

Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?

oh yeah for sure. i think we're in a situationship. maybe we're dating? idk i cant rember. god i need to see him again soon. i should watch some videos or smth

Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?

nah but i usually drink diet soda. if im buying it out at like a gas station or smth ill go full sugar cuz its just a one time thing but. i think i drink two diet cokes a day. i dont always finish em

Listening to?

+ shuffle queue

Do you ever write in pencil anymore?

yeah but i prefer pen tbh. i keep like two hand notebooks a pencil and a pen on me at all times

Do you know where the last person you kissed is?

probably at his house with his cats. or with his band

Do you believe in love at first sight?

i believe in instant chemistry but love is kinda something u collaborate on. its like a living thing. ive recently figured out that two people can be in love and still wanna maim each other a little bit from time to time

Who did you last call?

@fadenkreuze but thats like a given. it was @antichristxsuperstar in front

Who was the last person you danced with?

my cat. it counts, in my book

Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?

we were having sex and i guess my mouth just looked that good hanging open and drooling

When was the last time you ate a cupcake?

i dont think its been a year but. it was probably springtime i wanna say-- no, late winter. valentines day cupcakes. mini ones.

Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?

nah im not a hugger. he knows i like him ok tho

Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

i dont believe in embarassment. but yea sometimes i make a fool of myself. usually it makes em giggle and then its fine <3

Do you tan in the nude?

i do a lot of things in the nude but i dont tan. im goth so

If you could, would you take back your last kiss?

i dont remember it

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?

yes actually it was rich. hey rich

Who was the last person to call you?

Do you sing in the shower?

yes sometimes but i sing all the time

Do you dance in the car?

Ever used a bow and arrow?

Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

Do you think musicals are cheesy?

no theyre an art form. i think A musical can be cheesy but not all of em. having said that ive never been a huge theater person but ill watch a bootleg every now and then

Is Christmas stressful?

it doesnt have to be but some people make it stressful. its lonely tbh

Ever eat a pierogi?

yep. theyre p good

Favorite type of fruit pie?

peach

Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

equestrian, veternarian, rockstar.

Do you believe in ghosts?

"do you believe in barometric pressure" "do you believe in wool fibers" "do you believe in the oxidation of metals"

Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

all the time

Take a vitamin daily?

Wear slippers?

yes and i encourage others to do so as well

Wear a bath robe?

nope too warm and humid where i am

What do you wear to bed?

the buff

First concert?

it was a festival for nu metal bands in like 2008 or something. metalfest i think it was? or something close to that name. i dont remember all the acts that played but mudvayne was there i know for sure

Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?

in my town theres only a walmart but i prefer target

Nike or Adidas?

Cheetos Or Fritos?

fritos are more versatile. remind me of chilis and soups

Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

Favorite Taylor Swift song?

Ever take dance lessons?

Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

yeah. professional cocksucker

Can you curl your tongue?

some people cant do that?

Ever won a spelling bee?

this is a traumatizing memory for me i refuse to elaborate

Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

yes often. usually during sex

What is your favorite book?

i hate these questions cuz then i forget every single book ive ever read. idk ill say the most recent book i read. the long hard road out of hell by marilyn manson

Do you study better with or without music?

with but it has to be instrumental or so loud its mind numbing owwww speaking of my ear fuckin hurts fuck you billy corgan

Regularly burn incense?

not anymore

Ever been in love?

Who would you like to see in concert?

obvious answers are like. mm. nin. slipknot (but like in 2002 or smth).

What was the last concert you saw?

in person? i dont even remember. its been over a decade

Hot tea or cold tea?

cold tea always preferable

Tea or coffee?

coffee. also cold

Favorite type of cookie?

sugar cookie or chocolate chip

Can you swim well?

nah

Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?

yes??

Are you patient?

extraordinarily

DJ or band, at a wedding?

either or. both? both

Ever won a contest?

nope

Ever have plastic surgery?

nah

Which are better black or green olives?

ew

Opinions on sex before marriage?

theres another type of sex?

Best room for a fireplace?

the den

Do you want to get married?

yes

[lestappenforever]

On the whole neighbours thing. We have a lot f neighbours, and even better l, there are categories in the continent, north, west, south, etc. (Africa and for context, I am Egyptian). You can never and I mean NEVERRR see me or anyone I know root for any other North African country, hell even our matches against any other North African country, is very stressful and sometimes even on the verge of playing mind games away from football. So I get you 1000000%

Also, I got to disagree, England are the number 1 national team I am hate watching in the Euros (especially with their “it’s coming hime” nagging since the 60s). They are so incredibly cocky it’s insane, especially with how easy and how close they were going to concede to Serbia yesterday.

As fir France, I agree on the Mbappe part, especially because he takes the spotlight from the real hero who doesn’t get enough credit for what he does, and he was the player if the tournament for 16, 18 and 22. And by that person I mean Griezmann (the man is so good and such a complete player, idk why he doesn’t get credit. Also queue me being biased since he’s the reason I follow football a lot and root for Atleti)

I'm glad to know it's not just me that will not be supporting my neighbours in sporting competitions!

To be fair, I think the whole "It's coming home" for every tournament has become more of a joke than anything else, given how they haven't won since 1966. And honestly, every country goes into, or at least should go into, international competitions cocky as hell because if they weren't cocky, they wouldn't have qualified in the first place. If you don't go into a tournament like this thinking you can win the whole thing, what's the point of even playing?

England didn't concede against Serbia, though. I've talked about this before, and almost scoring and almost winning means absolutely nothing in football. It doesn't matter how you win a game, as long as you're the team that comes out of a game having scored the most goals. You don't have to like it, but it's the reality of the sport nevertheless. France almost conceded against Austria as well, but in the end, they didn't and ended up winning the game. And as much as I would have liked for them to lose or at least draw, they didn't.

You, and everyone else, hating England is of course completely fine! I hate France the same way you guys hate England, and given how nobody can ever convince me to change my mind about that, I won't waste my energy trying to convince anyone else to change their minds about England or other teams, because hating other teams is part of the sport! Especially given how, as long as the many teams I prefer over England are still in the competition, I honestly don't care if England make it past the group stage or not. Like I've said before, they're not even in my top 5, or in my top 10. So a lot of teams will have to get knocked out for me to start hoping England will win. And even if it gets to that point (which I really fucking hope doesn't happen), I won't be rooting for the entire team. God knows England has quite a few players I absolutely loathe and I want to see those players crash and burn in every way possible. But there are also players I genuinely love (Trent Alexander Arnold, Joe Gomez) and players I like (Bukayo Saka, Declan Rice). So should it get to a point where England is the only team I can support, for example, if they were to meet France in the final, then yeah, let's fucking go, England!

I'm not a huge fan of Griezmann either, but I much prefer him to Mbappé and he is a far more complete player. But you can't tell me you're surprised he doesn't get the credit he deserves because players like him never do. Strikers who score lots of goals will always get the credit, and it doesn't matter how much or how little they contribute elsewhere, or how dependent they might be on another player setting them up for goals and how they become invisible if that player isn't out there doing all the work for them, because the goals are all that matter. This has always been the case and will always continue to be the case in football.

[thessalian]

Thess vs A Lack of Consideration

So there is literally no end to the absolute bloody cheek of my colleagues.

I spent most of the day looking at the typing queue and going, "The number of items typed hasn't gone up that much but the time stamps on the earliest items in the queue haven't changed; what the fuck is going on?"

I found out what the fuck was going on when I got to a certain point in the dictation and found out that everything from about 2pm to 6pm yesterday was typed, and the only things left besides today's typing were the earlier things - and every single one of them was either very long, dictated by someone with significant issues with the dictation, or both.

And then Milady came along and took the shortest and most reasonable of those, instead of taking them in order, which would have had her doing a long-ass monstrosity by a junior doctor who repeats herself an awful lot but instead left said monstrosity to me.

I mean, the unending nerve of these people. The rules are simple - you take the damn things in the order in which they were dictated when transcribing them, unless they're urgents and/or someone has asked specifically for them.

You know the worst part about this? It's that I would be a lot less angry and frustrated if someone came up to me and just said, "You're better at this than anyone in the department and we need you on these". I mean, I'd still be annoyed, because my colleagues are supposed to be fucking professionals and you learn to do this shit, you know? But at least I'd understand it - doctors expect a certain standard, even if they don't reach it themselves, and I'm probably the only one in the department who takes the word salad that comes out of the faces of the doctors and converts it into rational sentences. So yeah, I'd be annoyed that no one else was stepping up but at least I'd understand the necessity. Thing is, thre's no necessity here. It's not even a matter of lack of ability; it's simple laziness. It's saying, "These are awful. I don't like them. I don't want to do them. I'll make [Thess] do them instead, even if [Thess] struggles with them because of disability. I don't care if [she] suffers."

I'm tired of being the only one who steps up when we're swamped. I'm tired of being the only one Scruffman asks to do fiddly shit with sending reports to patients who referred cases to us (because somehow none of our new systems seem to send those reports directly to the people who asked for them in the first place, so we get emails from these people once a month, so ... what the fuck?). I'm tired of being left with the long and complicated bullshit to the point where they'll take a four-plus hour wodge of typing from the afternoon just so they don't have to touch the long complicated stuff that's normally done in the morning. I am tired of doing every single piece of shit work in the department. And I am really tired of knowing that Scruffman will not do anything about any of it because he's conflict-avoidant, I'm not there to physically get into his face, and he doesn't care so long as the work gets done and he doesn't look like he's in over his head in a managerial role that he's not actually qualified for.

I'm just tired. I was going to go out to pick up a few things but now everything feels like way, way too much work. It's not anything I actively need, but I thought "really nice but low-effort dinner plus glorious snackies and the assault of Moonrise Towers" would be a great way to spend a Friday night. I do have an alternative option but somehow "tuna broccoli lemon pasta" isn't as motivating as, like, "bacon mozzarella burger with hash browns and salad, maybe with actual decent tomatoes".

I miss being able to just order a burger. I mean, I can, but the options are "no bun at all; just whole thing wrapped in lettuce" or "kind of crappy bun", and both are expensive as fuck. Besides, I could make a better burger in my sleep. Even deprived of A1 sauce as I am.

...That reminds me; need to make up that list to send with Mum when she goes to North America in a few weeks. She's being kind enough to bring me maple syrup, expensive as that's become, but I want A1 sauce ... and, because Baking Yesteryear, I also require Jello and Jello pudding. I've checked and they are gluten-free.

Also flu vaccine before MCM Comic Con, if it can be arranged.

[mandssisters]

Brizzle innit 22.11.22

“By any means possible” A train taking the strain today. Across two counties. Wiltshire into Avon. Bristol. Love Brizzle.

After the storms of yesterday today we got lucky with the skies, they were blue again. Whilst waiting for the train at Salisbury on a cold but sunny platform I got the step count up for the day to 3,500 before boarding. Result. And didn’t buy a hot chocolate to compensate for the cold. Joe Wicks would be proud of me.

An easy 78 mins on the train. A short walk from the station to the des res Ho e clearly the Ibis budget doesn’t stretch to T’s and L’s.

I needed chips. What better way to enjoy them than in a Wetherspoons! Living the dream. Now I had a real fan girl moment, I got right up close and personal with …….. a real life pair of Gromit and Shaun the sheep sculptures. Trip already made! #suchafan Bristol been the home of Aardman animations.

Right let’s cut to the chase. The venue. Google maps did show me what to expect. And it didn’t disappoint. WOW. An idiot could have walked past quite easily and thought it was a disused warehouse….. I mean idiot. 😉

The marble factory. ((Stone cut marble not the glass ball variety.)) Back in the day I bet this place was amazing? But right now it was opposite a building site which was once an industrial estate and even the ATS Tyre shop google maps had promised me had closed!! The only location highlight was a Vegan Cafe called Future in the railway arches which sold the best donuts in town. £10 for 3 well spent.

#homersimpsoneatyourheartout

Met the very lovely Evie in the queue. from Wales…… saw Marcus at Cardiff last night so was still buzzing. Queue time passed quickly.

Motion as I’m going to give it its proper name (the marble factory) is a night club and hanger warehouse. It was pretty cool inside capacity around 1200. All standing but some balcony standing. A real hidden gem.

Monica was back. She gave a very honest set against all the odds. She was so funny. I think one too many strepsils, lemsips, paracetamols may have been taken! There was so much rambling it was fun to watch. Great work Monica. You pulled it off.

To the show.

Ooooooooh new shirt. Tweed shirt and are they called “baggies” where is seeing bees 🐝 Patrick Grant when you need him!

Opening with Awake my soul, the cave.

Banter:

Came in the form of Football.

Last nights gig in Wales not being able to announce the score as 2 blokes had “saved” the game to watch later!!

I would appear that we had “Miss Wales” in the audience as at various times ramblings were shouted! And Marcus joked at the end that for “I will wait “ Miss Wales needed to keep quiet.

Every song is about footy…

From the balcony gods came a very sweet “shout” of “it’s coming home”!!

Marcus even joked that

“Exeter being a shit show” quiet literally!! He recapped how he got a stripping down about his use of bad potty mouth language from a friends dad. Who questioned the need of the word FUCK? It’s only a good job he didn’t get carried away with “c*nt”.

Post shows, Taylor Mackall ace musician, comments about the performance of Only Child most nights and critiques the 50% of cords Marcus gets right during the average performance of only child! Harsh.

Sadly we didn’t get to see the wonderful Monica onstage for Go in Light, as he insisted she gets well for her main performance. As she isn’t in TIP TOP form!!

After the fake end of show, and encore, another fab rendition of Cowboy, with added burp slurp! Apparently within the tea cup was tonic water most nights, but tonight it’s tea but has the same effect.

Then off piste from the set list we were in for a treat. 6 mins of bliss. Marcus’s favourite song “not dark yet” by the one and only Bob Dylan. Loved this. What a real treat. At the end the slight boast that the next one was written with Bob, although he wasn’t actually there!! WIGMHOY.

Too soon it was off mic I will wait. The crowd very respectful. Miss Wales did wales proud.

I waved a sad goodbye to band as they won’t be with Marcus for leg 3 in stores next week. Going to miss them they are so tight. Marcus’s voice just gets better and better each night. Vs mine which can barely speak atm without coughing!!! What a total joy these dates have been. Over too soon.

Today. Enjoying life with a walking tour of Banksy street art and a trip on the S S Great Britain in the dry dock. Well worth a trip, fascinating engineering and fantastic recreation of sea travels circa 1840s. What a visionary Isambard Kingdom Brundel was. And a great Ambassador of the top hat.

X

[bonsaiiiiiii]

these days, i came across this situation that angered me for motives i didn’t know at the time, but today I understood why.

putting this discussion topic (?) under a readmore banner. this shouldn’t get very long, and it’s not even awful or something, but i just wanted to so it could save you the time of scrolling through if you don’t wanna read.

(spoiler: it gets a bit lengthy, but please, if you can, read it and give me your opinion on it, just to help me understand better. ty ❤️)

so basically it starts with my roommate that had to do this transport pass. they had to fill in a module and, since their mother was there, she filled it in. nothing bothering, until she signed for their child. literally, she faked their child’s signature and put it in the module by herself. and after that both mother and child were grinning widely like it was a common thing. i literally was there and couldn’t understand, because even if mom was there with me i still would’ve signed by myself ?? and normally it’s the other way around, you fake your mom’s signature so if you miss school you are justified and your mom doesn’t know bc the school thinks your mom gave you permission through the signature, something like this. so i couldn’t place why i was so confused and negatively affected by this (not irritated, just sour), but i thought, hey i’ve never done this before and not even mom has done this before, so i’m just overreacting as per usual because i’ve never seen this scenario (just fyi, i never even once faked my mom’s signature, so it’s going both ways, i don’t fake hers and she doesn’t fake mine).

next thing that happens is, while we’re eating, they receive a call from someone. they reply, and from the replies they give it’s probable the person on the phone mistook them for their mother, but they continue and go “yes, my child called yesterday” like they were the mother and, again, i was like ???? oi, are you her secretary or smth? because i’ve never done this before either, i would just go “yes, but i’m her daughter actually, would you like to leave a message for her?” and i’ve never seen this done on my friends either (not that i have many, but anyways) and it left me confused and borderline irritated, but again i couldn’t place why.

so today i was thinking about it, and came to a conclusion, but it’s pretty personal or at least that’s what i think: about the signature, i see it as a way to express your identity. like, you’re a little bean of about 10 years or smth and want to create your own signature and you go for it, and then during your teen years you come back at it again and you try to practice it because heck in a few years you’ll be an adult, and you gotta get your signature ready for the world, because that’s the world’s way to know you’ve been in a certain place (at least thats what i did, it might vary from person to person and not everyone might get attached to it like i do). so it angers me to know that my identity, a little part of it, is being stolen by me because, since my mom is faking my signature then my neighbor can too, right? the salesman around the corner can too, right? so what did you do a signature for if you can’t use it when needed?

about the phone call, it was the opposite thing: you temporarily stole your mom’s identity. like, literally, they mistake you for you mom and you get along with it, you become your mom because that’s more practical (????) than being yourself and saying “mom ain’t here”? idk. it might be me…

since i was of a valid enough age to understand about this, mom always told me that my signature was unique, that it was mine and that it shouldn’t be stolen as well as i shouldn’t steal someone else’s, and so it happened, i don’t steal mom’s signature as well as she doesn’t steal mine, as well as i don’t let others steal mine. i understand that if it’s a real necessity and i’m not there to sign promptly then yeah, it must be done, but if we’re both in a queue with 20 people in front of us, there’s time, i’m there, and yet you still sign for me…

so yeah, it might be because we’re all different between each other and that’s what makes us unique, but whenever i’ll have children i want to teach them what mom taught me, and that is that your signature and identity is yours and yours alone, and you shouldn’t steal another’s and let yours be stolen even for trivial things like a transport pass module. am i wrong? am i overreacting?

[deeisace]

Yesterday's awkwardest customer wasn't like. Record awkward, but she did piss me off anyway

Came in for a backpack, I showed her the exact one she wanted, she goes "that price is wrong"

Wh. It's not, I'm fuckin looking at it. It's 30% off the RRP, like literally everything else in here, like all the giant fuck-off signs say - I tell her this, in retail-speak, and she goes "well I was here in August and it was cheaper"

Y e s, it would have been, it was a different sale then, fuckin obviously, and I explain that too, and say, it might be cheaper online cs they're on a different sale to us, I'll check - but it's more expensive online, so I'm all chirpy, oh look you have a better deal here! And she's still being a grumpy fuck about it so in the end I give her 15% off just to shut her up and eventually she buys the fuckin thing

And asks, where are the flasks - I tell her exactly where they are, go ahead at check them out, y'know

And about 5 minutes later, she comes back, still angry for no reason, all "there was no one upstairs, I don't know what I'm looking at, I have to catch a train, this is U n b e l i e v a b l e"

Why would there be anyone upstairs, we're busy, you can see that, there's a fuckin queue you just bypassed to complain at me while I bag someone's t-shirts, the fuck is wrong with you, I told you exactly where they are and a flask is a flask jesus christ everything's clearly marked, I do not have time to hold your hand, piss off then

Ugh

As I say, not record awkward tho

I've had people ask pointless repeated questions about socks for like 15 mins, and "but why is it that price" about it felt like every single shoe we have, and plenty of people who remember they have a discount after they've paid and then get angry about me having to do an exchange to give them their £2.37 or whatever back

The manager served a guy yesterday who bought socks, and he'd taken them off the wrong peg I guess, but they were 70p more expensive than he thought they were, and this is after the manager's told him the price twice and he's paid, having seen the price on the card machine, he's then come back, he left the store and came back, and demanded the 70p difference

I know I'm hardly the benchmark for all human behaviour or anything, but christ alive

Well, he'll get his 70p back in 3-5 business days

I had someone do the same, a month or so ago, for 25p. Insane.

[violentivy]

Survivors guilt

My family had a bit of a rough year as far as the holidays. I mean, my family of origin.

See, my brother caught Covid and tested positive on Dec 23rd. My Mom tested positive yesterday, (Merry Christmas I guess.)

My brother was all over his socials talking about how he felt bad for anyone who couldn't spend time with their families this holiday, and that he understood how hard it was.

The gesture felt empty. I hated that he suddenly had ALL THE SUPPORT IN THE WORLD for people separated from their families the moment he can't see his kids for ONE holiday.

I get that he's autistic and empathy might be a bit of a stretch for him, but I TOO am autistic, and I have spent my life being overly empathetic to make up for my siblings complete and utter disregard for anyone but themselves. It's kinda funny, I mean, funny isn't really the world but I lack the right one. I've been unable to spend Christmas with all of my children for 9 fucking years. If you think about that in time lost, the memories I will never be able to make with my kids, how I am grateful to get to kind of be there through a twitter thread now.

When I was their full time parent, I made sure that all of them knew I would never abandon them. From the moment I first held them in my arms. Then to have them ripped away because "You can't read social queues." feels awful. I too, am autistic, and I just wish I had a chance to have a "normal", real family.

I never saw one meme, one expression of care or concern, nothing before yesterday.

As a matter of fact, the first holiday after the kids were taken, I went to my Mother's house she called my terrible mood her fault in an effort to try to guilt me into feeling better. Maybe that worked when I was a kid IDK. It doesn't work now.

I stopped going to her house for Easter after that. I usually spend the day home by myself.

I understand in a very real way that I am on my own. My family is just some people I'm related to and I've never belonged with them. I keep them, just as I keep all acquaintances, at an arm's length. I do not even permit my sister to message me. I do this for my survival.

Just as I spent yesterday. I sat at home for 18 hours just playing video games all day and it was glorious. I didn't have to share the controller, I didn't have to get off of my computer to help someone, or make a huge meal. I didn't cry too much.

My upbringing was pretty terrible. I understand my parents were doing the best they could, but their best was fucking awful. I've found since I've started reparenting myself, and encouraging myself to take off my mask more and more, I feel better.

When my boss "corrects" my behaviors, he says he wishes someone had done the same for him. I just want to shout at him "wait, because you're neurodivergent and lack the social queues?"

See, I lack the social queues, too, but believe it or not, I feel pretty ok in my being terrible at it.

Nothing in my life currently follows convention.

My husband and I had had our holiday on the 21st with his kids, and I expect to visit my daughter and granddaughter on the 28th. He worked a 12 hour shift yesterday during which he made more money in a day than I make in a pay period. That's all true. However, my husband also does a lot of the household work as well. I'm glad because I lack the spoons to do so, as well as just the ability, but he can't see mess.

So, I point out things and he deals with them. It's hard to call oneself interdependent when your partner does so much. It feels like leaning but then I have to remind myself that I am the one who sees the things and points them out, so that he can do whatever needs to be done.

And I'm not like, completely helpless either. I'm disabled. That's ok. 40 hour work week takes all the spoons I have and then some.

I am able to cook sometimes. I can sometimes remember to do a whole load of laundry. Sometimes, I even remember I could be folding the laundry while I have a streamer on the television to essentially body double with me. I try not to get annoyed at how many times a day I trip over shit and fall.

On the 21st I was running down the hallway, caught a shoe, tripped and fell hard enough that I slid when I fell. I still have carpet burn on my knees.

I brushed it off, but I just wanted to sit, cry and feel sorry for myself. But my mother taught me that you can't do that in front of your kids. They need to see you as untouchable and unphasable.

That ISN'T correct, but since also poorly regulate, it's been necessary for my survival. I try not to wail. I feel a wail in my throat often.

Because that's GRIEF that is trapped inside, and I feel like I always carry it. It also feels as though no one really gets it. Like I am some delusional woman who believes she used to have children, but doesn't in reality.

Except the one that does constantly stay in contact, who pretty much gets a hold of me daily asking for some money, or some form of heavy emotional labor. An emotional labor I HAVE to do because I parented her poorly, because I too was a child when I had her.

But I have to do it before her brain fully solidifies. She needs to understand she isn't a bad kid. She's always been so good, but she also has always been under her father's thumb, and that nothing was ever going to be good enough for him.

Me? I'm pretty easy to please. Just let me to my own devices and reach out when you need advice. I'm just, automatically proud. You all were little wobbly pieces of sentient meat who turned into less wobbly pieces of sentient meat. And those meatsuits you currently wear are capable of amazing things like making music, or creating art.

In my head, I laugh and say "I made that meatsuit.". The fact is, I did. But ya'll gave it life.

And THAT is why I'm proud of you. You gave yourselves lives and dared to dream bigger than I could muster as a heavily emotionally abused little girl.

I'm still that girl, yes, still the same meat mech I've always had, but through your lofty dreams, I'm able to see beyond the faulty programing, and the crappy connective tissues that just don't stay in place the way they should.

However, it is also terrifying because as you dream big, I realize I have to help create a steady foundation for you to jump off of into your adult lives. And as a kid when I asked for that kind of foundation my parents told me I was being resource intensive. They told me I asked for too much and being self made was better than being just... Made.

It's called GENERATIONAL wealth for a reason. You're supposed to spread it. You're supposed to share it.

As if by some miracle my other 2 sons find this blog post, I'm sorry. I know you think I'm evil. You can think that if you'd like. You'll make your own conclusions someday. I love and accept you no matter what. My littlest one, I want you to know that you associate food with me. That's why you over eat. I was trying this new method with you were I fed you every meal so that you'd have a healthy association with food. The thing is, we didn't get through that entire program.

And my middlest one, you have my heart. As much as you all look, think and act like me, you may be the one who does that the most. Keep being your weird self. Keep asking those macabre questions and keep making it uncomfortable for everyone. Someday, someone is going to try to stop you from asking uncomfortable questions and revealing uncomfortable truths.

Don't. Don't stop ever. You're right to question. This world ain't gonna fix itself and in order to make it better for everyone, we gotta ask those questions.

I stopped because someone beat me repeatedly for it.

And for my other 2, who likely won't see this post. I am so, incredibly proud of you. You are living your dreams and even if it makes me nervous, understand that I am still proud. I am just fighting a lot of internal programming.

We'll all be together someday. Until then, I'll keep playing video games on holidays by myself and dream of spring, where you all would run around your grandparents back yard and hunt for eggs while the rest of the family enjoyed the warm of the springtime sun.

[rfyimmo]

My Quarter-Life Crisis is trying to kill me. | MillennialMomManifesto

My kid was watching a nursery rhyme that said "Don't throw your junk in my back yard, my backyard’s full," and I froze, my mind spiraling until I sank into the floor and cried, Summer Walker style. Panic attack? Adult tantrum? How many times are my peers and women of my generation finding ourselves in positions like this?... And Why...?

The more I gain the confidence to speak with my peers about instances like these or the catalysts for such, I realize things like this are happening to most of us right now. Our unhappiness is mentally & physically showing itself in our faith, health, mind, bodies, actions and reactions.

Sociologists say "Mid-Life" by today's standards is between ages 35-75 🧐

What do you count as middle-aged? At almost 30, I feel like I used to think this was it, but now, I refuse to accept that. All my life society and media showed us mid-life crises were usually for 30 or 40-something year old men buying sports cars and trading in their wives for newer models, but today what does that look like? 

I'm calling it a quarter life crisis (and not mid-life crisis) because if the people in the Bible lived hundreds of years & there are still Centenarian Blue Zones on this modern day planet, I hope this is not the middle. I hoping we have so much more to go. Most people want to live longer and climb the proverbial ladder quicker - so that's where the crisis kicks in. My peers and I are trying not to be crushed under student debt, living costs that don't match the wage gaps, and dreams we don't know how to make come true, but still daily haunt us. Queue the panic about not being where we thought we would by now or how much we feel we should have gotten accomplished and comparison to our peers' highlight reels online.

Being super is tough: It's a constant battle of figuring out when to use your powers (for good or for evil), balancing your secret identity, maintaining your energy and constantly improving your powers or learning new ones.

Good Vs. Evil: Remember that panic from earlier? You know, the panic enacted by milestones you thought you would reach by now? Write down what you want, how you want to get it, and form a timeline to make it happen. Seeing your plan on paper can help ground you.

Secret Identity: Make the best of this time! Even if it doesn’t feel like it, you are supposed to be here in this moment. There is more than one way to navigate life, careers, etc. Why else would there be so many paths if people were not meant to be different and explore different options. Do what works for you! Your powers are different form the supe next to you, and there are still muggles and mortals with no powers at all. Queue the Gratitude & Mindfullness.

Maintaining Energy: They say life gets better with age, so think of yourself and where you were 1, 3, 5, and even 10 years ago! You would KILL to know, do, have the things you do now & you learn daily how to do this life thing a little bit better than yesterday. Consider this quarter or midlife crisis a pitstop for refocus, weather this transition with reflection and grace for yourself. Identify the wisdom you have and apply it to new areas. 

"The purpose of your life is to find your gift, the work of life is to develop it, and the meaning of life is to give it away."

As far as Powers: I leave you with this quote:

"Midlife is when the primary operating system of your life shifts from the ego to the soul. It's a period when people start to rearrange what gives meaning to themselves."

As a 'SuperMom' This is How I'm Running on Sustainable & Renewable Energy:

While the early 20s and late teens are living their "Rich 'Hot Girl' Era", I'm trying to find my way into "Wealthy Hot Mom Era" who Dabbles in "Mob Wife."

✨A few Podcast Recommendations:🌤️

From Broken To Branding: B Simone on Nice & Neat

Highlighted Quote: "I wasn't protected as a child so I think that's where a lot of my comedy comes from I walk on eggshells a lot trying to people please and I have a lack of boundaries because I want you to like me because I need validation from other people instead of getting it internally I wasn't I wasn't protected so I feel like I did a lot to make adults happy around me that were supposed to be there to protect me but really didn't make me feel comfortable as a child"

You've Been BLOCKING Your BLESSINGS! | Tabitha Brown

Tia Mowry: You’re Unhappy and You Don’t Know it - Learn to Leave the Comfort of Being Unhappy

✨Here's my Money & Positivity Playlist (to help you see the bright side:)🌤️

About the Author: Proud milso & toddler mom. Lover of art, creative writing & blogging 🎨 Believing in the power of efficiency & innovation 🌟 Passionate about helping small businesses thrive 🚀 Avid traveler & coffee enthusiast ☕️✈️

I love meeting new people and hearing their stories. Whether you're a fellow mom, a small business owner, or just someone looking for a bit of inspiration, let's connect and support each other on this incredible journey.

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[fizzingwizard]

Yesterday bf and I went to a Michelin guide okonomiyaki place called Mizuno that we saw in a vid on youtube

I know Michelin guide isn't the same as Michelin star, but anyway, it definitely gives it a lot of attraction, and the place almost always has a queue, you have to order while you're still in line, and it's packed with tourists.

I was interested to see whether it would live up to the hype or turn out to be a tourist trap. There were a lot of very positive reviews on tripadvisor but... if most of those came from foreigners, particularly ones who never ate okonomiyaki before, then they wouldn't really have any reference for comparison. And there were some more negative/indifferent reviews. In terms of what the latter had to say about service (upset about having to stand in line or not feeling catered to), I don't agree because it shows they didn't know what kind of restaurant they were going to. This really isn't a place to relax. It's attraction is famous okonomiyaki, you go in, eat, leave. There aren't even any side dishes, not one.

It's most famous for nagaimo-yaki I think, so we ordered that and also the mizuno-yaki which is more typical. We liked the nagaimo-yaki, but agreed we liked the mizuno better. For me, the nagaimo-yaki was kind of salty and I'm not sure why. Still enjoyed it but not going back for more.

LOVED the mizuno-yaki. It's a very regular Osaka-style okonomiyaki with a LOT of protein (pork and a bunch of seafood). It was delicious. Even bf, who isn't a fan of seafood, ate it and liked it.

The portion size is small for the price. It was filling for me. Bf probably would have eaten more if we could have ordered sides. But yeah, it's a little overpriced. However, I often feel too full after eating okonomiyaki at restaurants. This time I was just pleasantly satisfied. For me it turned out to be the perfect size. Also, although I'm a huge fan of okonomiyaki and eat it often, the sauces can overload my stomach. Not this one! They put plenty (but not too much) and I didn't feel the least bit sick afterward.

So I'm definitely a fan of the mizuno-yaki. But as to whether it's worth lining up for compared to other, cheaper okonomiyaki places? That's a NO.

It was good okonomiyaki. It was NOT substantially better than other places, where you won't have to wait as long or at all, and you'll also get more food, sides, and probably a table where you can enjoy yourself instead of being ushered along. I prefer the okonomiyaki restaurant in my town that I go to the most often. Bf is a fan of Chibo, which I also like.

So in my opinion the "michelin guide" stuff really is nonsense. If you're a tourist in Osaka, listen - the food is just across the board good wherever you go. It's reeeeeally hard to miss! In eight years I think there have been maybe two places I didn't care for. There is absolutely noooooo reason to go specifically to Mizuno for okonomiyaki. You'll probably like it if you do! It's good! But there's like ten other okonomiyaki places right on the same street, and Chibo around the corner...!

Actually, if you want good food in Osaka and also a relaxing time - don't eat in Dotonbori at all! yeah yeah it's famous look. From Shinsaibashi to Tennoji it's a straight line and if you just keep walking you will find all the same stuff that's in Dotonbori elsewhere, cheaper, and less crowded. You'll find it *easily*. I never hang out in Dotonbori, so I was stunned by how many tourists were there. It was jam-packed. I totally get following the guide books, I'd do the same thing if I were in a country I didn't know well. But anyway, that's my tidbit of expat wisdom for you. Just walk past Dotonbori, at least during peak hours. You won't get lost, there are entrances to the subway everywhere, and if you do somehow lose track of them you can *always* find a convenience store that will help you with directions. Just keep going through the shopping arcades and you'll find places that aren't half so crowded that are just as good as anywhere in Dotonbori.

(One plus for Dotonbori though: we found a candy apple store!! They had cinnamon candy apples which were amaaaaazing. Felt like the middle of autumn in May. We tried to resist but couldn't. Had to loop back for them. Mmmmmm.)

[standfortheangels]

So on Monday evening, I got an ask from a blog I hadn't seen before (not naming them) asking me to share their post asking for help with vet bills.

I was able to check out that they were a real person and not a bot, but I was confused about why they would ask Me, because again, never seen them before, and they also followed me right after sending the message, which seemed odd? So I left it alone and went to bed.

The next day I was waaay too tired to handle my own life, so that was a write-off. I'm in not so much a 'dip' in my health, it's more like.. a sinkhole, that hasn't stopped moving yet, so uh, yeah. That's limiting me a hell of a lot. Deciding what to do and writing a message back to them was just outside of my capabilities that day.

But yesterday, at one point early afternoon, I thought I had enough energy to throw some kind of reply together. I actually was going to reblog their post too. I just wanted to be able to tell this person- in case they picked me because they thought I'd have a lot of reach or something- that I actually don't tend to get seen by a lot of people, so it probably wouldn't help them much, but that I'd share it anyway and I hoped they could get their pet treated soon.

Except, there was no message there, and the follow notification vanished too.

Which means unless Tumblr fucked up in a very odd, very specific way.. they blocked me.

I hadn't responded in the maybe... 40 hours I'd had the message for, and I'd already been blocked.

Everything posted on my blog in that time, by the way, was through the queue and was tagged as such. I also have it in my blog description that I have health issues. Being unavailable for 40 hours doesn't mean someone is ignoring you regardless, but it's already public information that I have health shit to deal with and it slows me down. I would hope that would lead to a little patience as it is, but I mean, I could even have been in hospital for all they know!

Besides which, like, what good does blocking me do? If I'm not responding or posting, sure, maybe I'm ignoring you and don't want to share your post. But if I'm blocked, I definitely won't be sharing it! Because now I can't fucking see it can I?

Honestly, I'm almost glad now that my Monday sucked so much. Because that kind of anger in such a short amount of time (when, again, I didn't even post, stuff was queued and tagged) is a pretty big red flag tbh. I can understand being stressed if you're in that situation, but like.. I was basically off tumblr For A Day, a day and a half. To deal with health shit. And I got blocked for that.

Maybe it was a bizarre and highly coincidental glitch. Maybe they saw something on my blog they didn't like (though they should be vetting blogs better Before they send messages and follow if that's the case.). Or maybe they genuinely were impatient and defensive, and decided to block me out of anger when I had a perfectly reasonable explanation for what was actually a pretty short delay, certainly for me at least.

So yeah. Guess I kinda just wanted to vent that out, because, honestly I hate when people get mad at me for being sick, or for things in general I can't control. It isn't fair. And it's like, don't you think I would change it if I could? If I had any control whatsoever, do you genuinely believe I'd choose to be too exhausted to write a fucking message? I wouldn't. And I guarantee it sucks a hell of a lot more for me than it does for you, and I don't get to walk away when it's too much. So you can suck it the fuck up and Wait.

I know it doesn't Quite work like that in this case. They don't know the extent of my health issues, but that's the thing. If someone doesn't reply to you for a couple days, there are all sorts of things that could be happening. Maybe, like me, they're ill and don't have the energy to reply. Maybe they're stressed up to the eyeballs and they just can't handle a social interaction politely right now. Maybe they have severe social anxiety and they're trying to build up the courage or get their message perfect before they send it. Maybe their internet went down! They may not even know they have a message sat there yet! Maybe someone they love like, Just Died that same day.

Maybe it isn't their fucking fault, you know?

Anyway. Ultimately they've shot themselves in the foot. Because for whatever reason, they acted on the assumption that I was being mean and chose to ignore them, and in doing so, they've made it impossible for me to do what they were asking for, when I was actually willing to. And they'll never know that part either, because I can't tell them, because I'm blocked. So, y'know. They'll never get that help from me, and that's more their fault than mine.