#Them: “I just read my windows 11 calendar”

[pukexnxspew]

I need to learn to ignore how pricky people can be at times cause I'm gonna end up fighting someone one day

[finalgilmoregirl]

a Jess fic somehow related to winter/Christmas?

a/n : sorry for basically falling off the face of the earth lol, here’s something small i’ve had in my drafts for almost two years. no gender specified, no y/n

i’ll be home for xmas ☆ jess mariano x reader

there was nothing like the holidays. the cold weather, no school, warm drinks, and the beautiful snow that was soon to cover stars hollow. however this year's winter had been hard to enjoy ever since jess had left to california to visit his dad. you understood why he wanted to leave town of course and had been fully supportive of his plans, but now that he had actually been gone, you felt a void in your life. i mean, calls from payphones could only accomplish so much.

you thought you could handle it. its not like the two of you were completely dependent of each other, you saw each other around town almost every day and if you went a few without talking to each other, it was nothing to worry about. now, you wish you savored your time with him, maybe went on a few more dates with him.

you currently remained laid in bed, relishing in the warmth your countless blankets gave you. it was past 11 in the morning and as you didn't have school and your parents were at work already, you were in no rush to leave your solitude. that was, until your stomach reminded you of its presence and you realized you really couldn't just stay in bed all day without suffering from hunger.

slowly sitting up, you sucked in a breath as the cold air from your bedroom made its way to your body. its now or never, you thought. bracing yourself, you ran to pick up a sweater you had discarded on your desk, quickly putting it on to provide you with some heat. and after finding your slippers, you finally made your way to the kitchen.

as you prepared yourself to make a hot drink, you glanced at the calendar on your family's fridge.

december 22nd.

christmas was just days away. you of course were looking forward to it. good food, presents, classic christmas movies on every channel. but to think that you wouldn't be able to enjoy any of it with jess by your side was a bit of a disappointment. you had only been dating for around eight months, making this your first holiday season together.

what would he have gotten you? you couldn't help but wonder. clothes? cd's? something random, yet thoughtful like a candle of your favorite scent? you chuckled at the thought of jess browsing the candle aisle at a department store.

you took your drink to your room as you looked through your closet, deciding to go for a walk, maybe even picking up a pastry at luke's or the local bakery for breakfast.

picking out some warm layers you quickly got dressed, not wanting to leave your body vulnerable of the low temperature of your home.

as you laced up your winter boots, you spotted something in the corner of your eye. from underneath your bed you saw a book peaking out. as you picked it up you quickly realized that it was one of the many jess had been pushing you to read.

it was the catcher in the rye, a classic, you remember him saying as he handed it to you.

you had gotten only a few chapters in, schoolwork taking too much of your time up for you to actually enjoy it, however now seemed as a perfect time as any to continue.

you placed in in the crook of your arm as you placed the essential wallet and keys into your jacket pockets and prepared to leave your house.

you ultimately decided against going to luke’s as you approached the middle of town, knowing that jess’ absence from the restaurant would feel more prominent. you instead bought hot chocolate at the bakery and sat by the window, so you can take in the beautiful snowy view in the moments you weren’t reading.

you couldn’t help but start thinking of jess again. about how he and luke probably would have came over for christmas dinner. you’re parents were actually quite fond of them, your mother fawning over how sweet jess was to you, and your father surprisingly having a few things in common with your boyfriend’s uncle. maybe next year you thought, sighing as you took another sip.

you were two more chapters into the book before you decided to take a break, your hot chocolate being long empty. a walk sounds nice.

you plan was interrupted however, as the moment you stepped back outside, you saw him.

jess was standing on the frosty lawn of the town’s center with his back turned, looking around, looking for you. you gasped and slowly began walking towards him, maybe you were mistaken. he wasn’t supposed to be back until new years!

“jess?” you called out, and as you approached he turned at the sound of your voice, a smile forming as he saw you. the moment you realized for sure it was him you ran, almost knocking him over with the force you hugged him with.

“hey” he laughed, a small tease in his voice at your dramatic reaction.

“what are you doing here?” you asked him.

"they don't have snow in california." you chuckled at his answer, still trying to wrap your head around his presence.

"and i um", he hesitantly added on, glad your face was buried in his shoulder. "i really missed you."

you stepped back an inch, just enough to see his face and the warm color that began to shade his cheeks. his eyes traveled all over your face, taking in the features he thought about every moment he was away from you.

you smiled widely, "are you blushing?"

"what? no!" he quickly defended, eyebrows furrowing at the laugh you tried to hide at his response. "i'm just not used to the cold anymore!"

you let out a louder laugh at that, softly kissing him before placing your chin back on his shoulder as you resumed your hug.

"yeah, okay." you responded sarcastically. then sincerely, "i really missed you too."

happy holidays ☆

[arteastica]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (20)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.1k

If you were ever asked to describe nostalgia to someone who has never experienced it before, you would say it’s like walking down the hallways of a museum at sunset, with nothing but the sound of your footsteps as company, echoing down seemingly infinite walls decorated with sepia memories that belong to happier, distant times.

For you, nostalgia was always the one who spoke most clearly in the silence, and just like the corridors of that metaphorical museum, it just so happened to be ghost-quiet in your office that evening. And in such solitude, when the only heart beating in the room belonged to you, your otherwise welcoming workspace became an echo chamber of unsought feelings and unwanted thoughts.

You looked at his empty chair. So much for a quick ride. You thought. It had been hours since him and Lord Koch had ventured into the field, and even though the Sun had decided to call it a day, you hadn’t. According to the clock ominously ticking on the wall before you, as well as the animated chatter coming from the dinner hall downstairs, your shift had ended a while ago, yet somehow you found yourself still sitting at your desk, fountain pen hovering over boring administrative stuff you had read at least three times that day, working extra hours, all because you didn’t want to go home.

Not without seeing him first.

Making sure he got back safe was part of the reason, albeit a small one. Because, if you were to be honest, in the end the decision to stay working overtime for free, had come down to something way less noble. It was simple: If you were still in your office by the time he came back, there was a chance of something happening, there was a chance of something changing between the two of you. And that possibility was enough remuneration for you.

Your eyes, however, begged to differ and, tired of looking at the same words over and over, decided to wander around the room until they found the big window behind his desk. The sunset sky, with its sad pinks and nostalgic blues, held nothing but the promise of more loneliness. And that melancholic palette you would’ve otherwise found pretty, as well as the empty chair behind his desk, acted as nothing but a reminder of how much you missed him, and you didn’t mean just today.

You missed how things were back then. You missed the warmth of his skin and the gentleness of his touch. You missed getting drunk on the rich sandalwoods of his hair: musky, earthy, a little sweet, and just the right amounts of spicy. You missed the addictive taste of his lips as well as the velvety, honeyed words that would leave them in your most intimate moments. And most of all, you missed the way his cobalt eyes would make your heart soar whenever you looked his way and found he was already staring.

That was the best feeling.

And it had been so long since the last time you had experienced it.

The calendar would argue it had only been a week, but if that was the case, then that week surely had the personality of a month. The clock would call it nonsense, saying that time was measured and constant. You knew that Leon, however, would agree with you.

‘Alike are time and water.’ He had told you just earlier that day, as he read out of a small leather notebook snippets of what was, in his own words, ‘some nonsense’ he had written on his way there. ‘Flowing slowly one drop at a time, or rushing by in the blink of an eye.’ You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. “And then I look at you and watch it freeze, knowing little has it to do with the mesmerizing view, when I find myself in the midst of that algid winter that is you.’

Maybe it was the bright oranges and mellow pinks of the sky you were staring at, or the connotation of endings that sunsets have, but your vision started to get blurry.

And sitting there, listening to the distant clatter of cutlery, unsure if the thing beating in your chest was a knot or a heart, you felt forgotten. Like the stuffed animal nobody packed before moving out, or the grandmother nobody visits anymore. And you had no one else to blame for that.

If you could, you would have pinned everything on time. On how it makes children turn into adults and forget to write home. On how it turns friends into strangers. On how it makes people grow tired of each other. On how it was starting to make him feel fictional, making you wonder if whatever beautiful thing you had, ever even existed.

If you could, you would have excused yourself behind ignorance, hiding under the blanket of confusion, claiming you didn’t know what happened.

You wished you could. But you couldn’t.

You couldn’t, because you knew exactly what had happened. You had heard the words leave your mouth that morning. Very clearly, even through the loud sounds of your own pleasure. You had said them. Words that he probably didn’t need. Words that had been distasteful enough to push him away.

Guess that saying I love you can sometimes make you unlovable, after all.

He did warn you, after all: Scouts don’t start families.

They avoid love.

They don’t marry.

But, who was even talking about marriage?

Beginning to grow frustrated with yourself, you tried to blink your feelings away. But the more you tried, the more they would pour out, and the more your eyes would start to burn as a result.

And that was a problem because, in that very moment, you heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps down the hallway.

You rubbed your eyes one last time as they approached, trying to erase any traces of your lingering melancholy, and when the door opened, your fingers hurried to fiddle with whatever papers they found in the top drawer of your desk.

You didn’t know if he had even thrown as much as a passing glance your way, but judging by the discreet, distressingly quiet way in which he headed straight to his desk without uttering a single word, you could be forgiven for thinking he hadn’t even noticed your presence at all.

And it hurt. It sure did. His silence was so sharp it stabbed the deepest part of your chest. So loud it broke you like the wailing of singers is said to shatter glass.

But, if you were to put yourself in his shoes, you would understand.

Why would he say anything?

You tried to reason with yourself while your fingers caressed papers and closed drawers.

Why would he say anything to his dumb, incompetent assistant?

If you were him, you wouldn’t utter a single word either, out of fear of being misunderstood. Because, in the presence of someone as foolish as her, any simple, commonplace action could risk becoming fuel for even more stupid, delusional ideas forming in her little head.

However, although it had taken that little head a while, it was finally beginning to understand.

That she was just his clumsy, fuckable assistant who, after opening her legs for him a couple times, had accidentally fallen in love in the process. Nothing more than a stupid, inexperienced city girl who didn’t know anything about life in the Survey Corps.

But that same city girl was starting to learn. Yes, she was was.

You rose up from your chair.

It may take her a while, but she always learned.

You walked towards the fireplace.

And once she learned, she made sure she never forgot. Never forgot that she was hired to make his job easier, not harder. To handle his mail, not to warm the left side of his bed. To administer schedules, not to moan his name. To revise budgets, not to beg for orgasms. To bring him tea, not more problems.

And like so, with all that in mind, you retrieved the kettle from the fire.

It wasn’t hard to believe that the Commander of the Survey Corps had other things in his mind. More important, better things than his foolish, lovestruck assistant.

You carefully poured boiling water into a porcelain cup.

But to this foolish, lovestruck assistant, the problem was accepting all the aforementioned.

You sliced a lemon and watched it sink into the water.

It was hard to accept that he didn’t feel the same way you did. It was hard to accept that his lips didn’t instantly curve at the sight of you, the same way yours did at the mere thought of the cobalt in his eyes, and that little frown he did when he was tired. And you didn’t need to look at him to know he had it on his face right now.

You didn’t demand to be the first thought he had when he opened his eyes, nor the last one when he closed them at night. But you just wanted to be a thought.

Just a thought. Maybe the one he had when the first snow fell, or when new buds sprung upon old trees. When the first rain of the summer fell on him while out on the field, or when a gentle breeze mischievously shifted his hair out of place in the fall. Or when it lovingly caressed his cheeks in passing, just like you would right now.

If you could.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you threw a glance his way. He was sitting at his desk, head down, hand busy on what you guessed was the report about the new horses. And it was so very funny. If you had it in you, you would have even snorted. How something that could bring so much joy could also bring so much pain. And even more puzzling it was, how a heart could feel both at the same time.

He was so beautiful. Sunshine strands falling on his face, hiding the depths of his thoughts. The genius of those strategies that were always several moves ahead of what anyone was capable of.

So attractive. The frown in those jungle eyebrows telling you it had been a tough day for him too.

You forced your eyes to look away.

Of course anyone would fall for him.

You thought as you added a spoonful of honey and watched it melt into the boiling water.

Maybe you could forgive yourself for having done just that.

You picked up the tray with whatever steadiness your trembling hands were capable of, and, in the company of a desperate, uncomfortable hammering in your chest, cautiously made your way towards him, the hesitance present in your footsteps making you feel as if you were in some sort of cage, approaching a wild animal.

It shouldn’t be like this. You had been bringing him tea for months. Every night. Without fail. So, why did it feel as if it was a complete stranger you were about to serve? As if you didn’t know how many cubes of sugar he took or how many spoons of honey he enjoyed.

“Be careful, in case it’s too hot.” You warned him, carefully placing the tray on the empty corner he always left for his tea. “I didn’t know when you’d be coming back, so I wasn’t able to let it cool down first.” You avoided looking at him, although it wouldn’t even matter if you did, because from the corner of your eye you could tell he was doing just the same. Head down, eyes on his papers, just like yours were on the tray, as you took your sweet time adding sugar cubes to his cup.

He likes it sweet. His tea. Very sweet. You reminded yourself, stirring as slowly as you could, praying the sugar cubes would also take their sweet time melting. Because, some hopeful, silly part of you still believed he would say something. You needed to confirm he could still see you. You needed to make sure you hadn’t become a ghost from his past. Not yet.

And for that purpose, even the coldest ‘Thank you. You may go’ would do it for you.

If you couldn’t have his hand to hold or his arm around your shoulders, the smallest word of acknowledgment would be enough.

But when none of those came, you realized you had no choice but to leave. Quietly. Collectedly.

Despite the painful knot stuck in your throat.

Leave. To your room. Where you could take care of it. Where your eyes could bleed an ocean, eroding the boulder-like thing you had for a heart. Chilling what was once warm inside.

“If you don’t need anything else, Commander, may I be exc-”

“Are you going to him?” The sound of his voice made your heart explode inside your chest, and its abruptness left you wondering if he was even talking to you.

You wanted to believe he was, but he kept his head down, pen in hand, unmoving; making it hard for you, in your desperate state of mind, to tell.

“Commander?”

“Are you going to meet him now?” He asked again, and this time his eyes found yours, dissipating any doubts you may have had.

And you would have allowed yourself to indulge in some form of cheer, happy he was starting any sort of conversation with you.

You really would have.

If only his eyes weren’t the color of a midwinter night, starless, pitch black, so dark it was impossible to see what was hiding in them.

But something was for certain: whatever it was, it wasn’t there this morning when he left.

-

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @apts2000 @lucifers-nipple-piercing

[acquariusgb]

Billary fic drabble advent calendar: Day 11

Day 11: Love Letters

Bill and Hillary were sitting in the back of the car. They had just left the church where they had attended the tribute to Rosalynn Carter. 

President Biden had left with Air force one and they decided to stay a bit more in Georgia with the Carter family and then leave in an evening flight. 

Bill was absentmindedly playing with her fingers as she had finally let him hold hands in the privacy of the car. Hillary was looking out of the window lost in thoughts. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked her quietly.

Hillary slightly shook her head, getting out of her trans. “Nothing and everything” she vaguely answered. 

There was a lot to think about. The Carters had been in their lives in a way or another for over 50 years. It was strange now to think that she was the furthest First Lady still living. Laura Bush was her same age and next in line, but now she and Bill will be first in all the ceremonies. If she had become president, where would they have put her after her term? As Bill's First Lady or a former president? She chuckled thinking at the logistic and diplomatic problem they would have caused as a precedent.

“What?” He asked surprised, but with a smile. The wonders of his wife's mind.

“Nothing” she shook her head, still smiling. She would tell him later. “How about that letter Amy read?” She changed the subject. “It was really touching.”

“Yeah. They really had a great love story.”

She hummed. “And Jim had a great way with words.”

“Hey, I used to write you letters when we were dating.” 

The first time he sent her a letter was during the couple weeks he had spent in Connecticut to help with the McGovern’s campaign while Hillary was still in California waiting for him, the first summer they spent together. Even though they would soon be reunited, he sent a letter telling her how much he missed her.

Then he wrote to her in the summer of 1972 while she was in Washington working for Marian Wright Edelrman and he had a full-time job for the McGovern’s campaign and so they had to spend time apart again. And then again in the summer of 1973 as they took separate roads after Yale. Even after she moved to Arkansas, but they had to live in different houses because of the optics of living together while not being married, Bill would leave her some love letters in her locker or inside books while they were both professors at university. 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “Yes, your letters were romantic too. And I kept all of them. ” She paused. “Some were also… how can I put it?... Suggestive?”

Bill chuckled. He remembered those ones. “I hope you have those hidden well so that they can be found only when we’re long dead.”

She laughed too. She could always count on him to cheer her up. 

They both started reminiscing about the past. Inevitably, after they got married, the letters stopped showing up. Yes, he would leave notes or messages, but nothing compared to a classic love letter.

Then, one day, out of the blue, her assistant brought her the mail. 

“There’s a special letter in there, Madam.” She gave her a knowing smile. 

Hillary frowned, curiously. “Okay… thanks…” She immediately started sorting out the mail until she saw a familiar handwriting. She opened the letter and smiled as she read the first words.

To my dearest Hi’ri,

words could never express how much I love you and longer to be with you…

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

23 years since the horror of September 11, 2001.

Never, ever forget that black day.

The following extracts from Fall and Rise: The Story of 9/11 fill me with grief, horror, and anger, though I have no clear memory of the attacks; I was six.

'Then came September 11, 2001.

Torn open, aflame, weakening from within, the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center spewed paper like blood from an arterial wound. Legal documents and employee reviews. Pay stubs, birthday cards, takeout menus. Timesheets and blueprints, photographs and calendars, crayon drawings and love notes. Some in full, some in tatters, some in flames. A single scrap from the South Tower, tossed like a bottled message from a sinking ship, captured the day's horror. In a scrawled hand, next to a bloody fingerprint, the note read:

84th floor

west office

12 People trapped

After the paper came the people. After the people came the buildings. After the buildings came the wars. The ashes cooled, but not the anguish.'

(Mitchell Zukoff- Fall and Rise: The Story of 9/11; Introduction, p xviii)

There are the terrified telephone messages that are too distressing for words:

' "Um, the cockpit's not answering," Betty said. "Somebody's stabbed in business class, and, um, I think there is Mace-- that we can't breathe. I don't know, I think we're getting hijacked." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 61)

Those were the words of Betty Ong on American Airlines Flight 11, not realising the full extent of the sickening murder-suicide plan concocted by the al-Qaeda terrorists in the cockpit.

The evil that air traffic controller Peter Zalewski 'couldn't quite hear' (p64):

'Unknown at that point to anyone at Boston Center, the foreign-sounding man, almost spitting his words directly into the microphone, had said: "We have some planes. Just stay quiet, and we'll be okay. We are returning to the airport." '

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 63-64)

As the message wasn't caught in its entirety, Mr. Zalewski was unable to warn other pilots of the danger. A further three American airlines would be hijacked, two of them turned into deadly missiles, and one thwarted by inexplicably brave passengers.

The heart-stopping last words of flight attendant Amy Sweeney on Flight 11:

'Michael tried his best to calm Amy. He told her to look out the window and tell him what she saw. "We are flying low," she said. Amy told Michael she saw water and buildings. "We are flying very, very low. We are flying way too low!"

Amy paused. Powerless on the other end of the phone, Amy's colleague and friend Michael Woodward waited, every second stretching into a lifetime. Less than an hour earlier, he'd stood inside the plane, locked eyes with Mohamed Atta, and waved goodbye to his friends.

Michael heard Amy's last words, before the call dissolved into static: "Oh my God!-- We are way too low!" '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 78)

Zuckoff also relays, sentence by heartbreaking sentence, the lives that were about to be ended on Flight 11:

'Amy Sweeney's children would have to get to school, and through life, without her.

Betty Ong's elderly friends would need new rides to doctor's appointments. Her sister Cathie would never again hear her say "I love you lots."

Robert Norton's stepson would have to get married without him.

Daniel Lee's soon-to-be-born daughter would spend her entire life without him.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 79)

The first sign of impending doom for United Airlines Flight 175:

'Someone in the United plane's cockpit changed the plane's transponder code twice within a minute. Bottiglia didn't notice because he was furiously searching for American Flight 11, which by then no longer existed.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 83)

The heartbreaking call of Flight 175 passenger Brian Sweeney to his wife, Jules:

' "Jules, this is Britain. Listen, I'm on an airplane that's been hijacked. If things don't go well, and it's not looking good, I just want you to know I absolutely love you. I want you to do good, go have a good time. Same to my parents and everybody. And I just totally love you, and [anticipating heaven or an afterlife] I'll see you when you get there. 'Bye, babe. Hope I'll call you." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 88)

Passenger Peter Hanson on Flight 175 comforting his father:

' "Don't worry, Dad. If it happens, it'll be very fast." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 90)

No words.

'United Airlines Flight 175 flew low and fast, banking toward the southern twin of the burning North Tower of the World Trade Center. Flight controllers, airline officials, government and military experts, and everyone else would need to accept a new script for hijackings, one that featured a multipronged murder-suicide plot designed to maximize civilian casualties and terrorize survivors through the destruction of physical and symbolic pillars of America's power.

The evidence flashed on the air traffic controllers' radar screens.

"No!" a New York controller shouted. "He's not going to land. He's going in!"

FROM THE BACK of the plane, with his wife and daughter pressed against him, Peter Hanson spoke his final words to his father: "Oh my God... Oh my God, oh my God."

Lee Hanson heard a woman shriek.'

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 90-91)

America witnessing the second plane crash into the South Tower, and understanding that this was no accident, but a terrorist attack. The country was at war.

'At 9:03:11 a.m., Lee and Eunice Hanson, Louise Sweeney, and millions of others became witnesses to murder. They watched live on television as United Flight 175, traveling between 540 and 587 miles per hour, slammed on an angle into the 77th through 85th floors of the South Tower of the World Trade Center. A bright orange fireball exploded. The building rocked and belched smoke, lass, steel, and debris. The plane and everyone inside it disappeared forever.

In her kitchen, Eunice Hanson screamed.

In her television studio, Diane Sawyer gasped, "Oh my God."...

After replaying thee video to be certain about what they'd seen, Gibson's voice went slack.

"Oh, this is terrifying... Awful."

Sawyer spoke for Eunice and Lee Hanson, Louise Sweeney, and countless others who saw United Flight 175's final seconds. "To watch powerless," she said, "is a horror." '

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 91-92)

The final words between Barbara and Ted Olson on American Airlines Flight 77:

' "What can I tell the pilot?" Barbara asked Ted. "What can I do? How can I stop this?"

Ted wasn't sure how to answer. He decided that he had to tell Barbara about the other two hijackings and crashes at the World Trade Center. Flight 77 seemed bound for the same fate; the question was where the hijackers intended to crash. Barbara absorbed the news quietly and stoically, though Ted wondered if she'd been shocked into silence.

They expressed their feelings for each other. Each reassured the other that it wasn't over yet, the plane was still aloft, and everything would work out. Even as he said the words, Ted Olson didn't believe them. He suspected that neither did Barbara.

The call abruptly ended.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 131)

The fateful moment that President George W. Bush had to remain calm after the White House Chief of Staff Andy Card said:

' "A second plane hit the second tower. America is under attack." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 138)

President Bush's immortal words:

' "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a difficult moment for America... Today we've had a national tragedy. Two airplanes have crashed into the World Trade Center in an apparent terrorist attack on our country. I have spoken to the vice president, to the governor of New York, to the director of the FBI, and have ordered that the full resources of the federal government go to help the victims and their families and to conduct a full-scale investigation to hunt down and find those folks who committed this act. Terrorism against our nation will not stand."

Bush asked for a moment of silence, then said: "May God bless the victims and their families and America." Then he left.'

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 139-140)

The victims of American Airlines Flight 77:

'Eddie Dillard wouldn't return home soon to his wife, Rosemary. Marie-Rae wouldn't save the women's gymnastics team at the University of California, Santa Barbara. Renée May would never surprise her parents with news of her pregnancy.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 146)

This and more are just a few of the profoundly distressing stories of that day. The injustice of lives stolen because of Islamic terrorism and the hideous, despicable ideology of Islamic jihad that incites these murders. The legacy of trauma on the survivors, including the first responders, who have paid a terrible price for their unimaginable bravery when conducting rescue in the doomed Twin Towers.

NEVER, EVER FORGET

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay IUI cycle goals under the cut

I’ll have two weeks to kill before I test. here’s what I’d like to do or not do in that time:

no forum checking. I spent way too much time reading random internet threads and driving myself crazy last time. it didn’t give me any new or useful info and it just made the time pass slower. every time I feel the itch to google something or look at a forum, I want to instead replace that behavior with adding one sentence to my fic draft OR to my prep document for the campus visit.

I also want to try to avoid nonstop calendar checking or counting days. to some extent that will be inevitable (I can’t suppress my knowledge of where I am in the cycle lol) but I can definitely do a better job of not checking each day off a countdown list or counting how many days are left. my goal is to do the IUI today and then do my best to forget about it until it’s time to test on 4/4 or 4/5.

on a similar note: no early testing. I was still getting false positives from the trigger shot on day 11/12 and it was way more of a bummer to see a positive on the strip and watch it fade than it would’ve been to just get a negative on day 14. so I want to wait it out, which will be tough at times but is something I know I can do. again, when I feel the itch to test, I’ll open my draft or my interview prep doc and add a line. channel that antsy waiting energy into something productive!

the research and advice on exercise during the two week window is mixed—generally it seems like vigorous exercise is discouraged but easy to moderate exercise is strongly encouraged. I’d prefer not to stop running entirely but I may take a few days off after the procedure, then switch back to easy intervals at a slow pace every other day or every two days. I think my main exercise goal for this period will just be to continue walking 60-90 minutes a day. that might mean losing some of the progress I’ve made this month but that’s okay—it’ll be good to remind myself that you can build back up even after a break.

I would like to leave 14 comments on 14 fics! I have been slacking for months in that area and I feel guilty and a little disconnected from fandom activity as a result. I’m going to write a big reminder on my dry erase board so it’s right there in front of me at work every day.

I think that’s it! I don’t think I’m going to set any specific goals around writing this time around because I’m not confident in my ability to achieve them right now… and while I do want to challenge myself I want to first set myself up for success with these two-week goals and build a habit of accomplishing them before I set goals I know I’ll be more resistant to working towards.

[soubhagyaside]

Google Calendar Vs Notion Calendar: Which One You Should Use?

Calendars are really helpful for overviewing your weekly schedule, tracking the work you put and to keep updated.

I have been using calendars to schedule and I know how important and useful calendars are and especially good ones.

In the article, I am comparing two of the best calendars Google Calendar and Notion Calendar. Notion Calendar is a new calendar app with a beautiful look and advanced features.

Subscribe to Productivity Side Newsletter to get productivity tips

Google Calendar Vs Notion Calendar: Overview

Google Calendar and Notion Calendar both are great apps but I use both to keep myself updated. How?

I use Google Calendar on my mobile phone and Notion Calendar on my laptop, it is both synced together so that whenever I create a task on any of the apps it will sync with both of the apps.

Since Notion also integrate with Notion Calendar, will automatically sync the databases and pages to easily access my all work inside the calendar.

That’s why I don’t have the hustle to check my phone while working on my laptop. I can actually use Google Calendar on my browser but I don’t have any issue with the Notion calendar.

Google Calendar Vs Notion Calendar: Look And Features

Talking about look of the both apps, you see Google Calendar is simple yet sometimes complicated to use while searching for different apps.

I like the look of the Google calendar but I more like the Notion calendar’s look.

The whitish background and the event color are very attractive.

Talking about the features of both calendars, they have all the basic features like creating an event, deleting an event, timezone, visibility, reminder, and repeat.

but Notion Calendar has a feature “command menu” where you can easily navigate to any feature.

Also read: Which Kindle Should You Buy?

Google Calendar Vs Notion Calendar: Availablity

Google Calendar is placed by default on Android mobiles so it made a significant impact on Android mobiles and you don’t have to download another app if you are a beginner or trying to schedule your work.

Notion Calendar is also found on AppStore and Playstore but it makes a friction to download or retain the app.

In case you are the relatively another calendar application ready for you.

However, the user’s point of view makes significant changes if you are a professional and you want to use an aesthetic calendar.

Adding New Events

Let’s explore a very important feature of any calendar is “creating an event”.

Google Calendar: You just drag the timeline and it will appear as a dialog box and you can write and see other options with the opening on a new screen.

Notion calendar: Just drag the timeline and type.

Additional Features

Notion Calendar can integrate with Notion and you can fetch all your work from Notion to Notion calendar.

You can link your Notion databases inside the Notion Calendar and you can see the scheduled entries inside the calendar app.

When you view more than 8 days or even more it actually gets the grid view but Notion Calendar creates verticle lines that are better when you want to see the odd no. of days at a single view like 11 days or 13 days.

See Google Calendar tips and tricks

I have said it better but Notion Calendar has a feature called “command menu”, where you can find lots of features that are available on the Notion Calendar. You can also see the Notion calendar tips and tricks.

I am disappointed with one functionality, when you open your laptop the app opens automatically.

It makes me annoyed and sometimes angry to see an app opening for no use at this point.

In another I will agree that Notion Calendar is quick in comparison to Google Calendar, it is so easy to create events and you don’t have to leave the page or do any step you just drag and type.

Also read: 52 books to read in 52 weeks

Pricing

Notion Calendar and Google Calendar are free to use and you can find them on Web, Android, Mac, Windows, and iPhone.

Google Calendar Is Best For?

So Google Calendar is best for everyone. Starting From casual scheduler to beginner to professional.

It may take some time to do things but all the needs can be fulfilled with Google Calendar.

Also read: 11 Google Calendar Tips and Tricks

Notion Calendar Is Best For?

Notion calendar is best for serious schedulers and professionals. You can be a beginner or a Pro, you can easily use Notion Calendar. 

If you are using Notion then you can use Notion Calendar to access your databases and Notion pages inside the calendar.

You can use it as mine, I use Notion Calendar on my laptop because I don’t want to visit a browser to check and this will automatically sync with the Google calendar of my mobile phone, and it’s cool that I use both.

Also Read: 10 Useful Notion Calendar Tips and Tricks

FAQ

What Makes Notion Calendar Unique And Better?

Notion Calendar is unique with its minimalist and beautiful design. It automatically syncs with Google Calendar and with one click you will able to add events on the side where you have to open another window. It has other features like the availability of both users where you can schedule meetings and that makes it better and unique.

What Makes Notion Calendar Different From Google Calendar?

When you create an event in the Notion calendar you will open it on side view. Notion Calendar automatically syncs with Google Calendar and you will able to see everything you have done in Google Calendar.

Why Notion Calendar Is So Good?

Notion Calendar makes it easy to create events, easy to add multiple timezones, and share availability with another user, and a lot of features that make Notion Calendar so good.

[sungtaro]

10, 18, 42? 💜 (happy saturday night sleepover~~)

beloved wings always glad to see you ... i hope you're hanging in there 🥲💜

10. what did your childhood bedroom look like? you're all gonna read this and be like wow that makes sense KDSJGB so technically i'm cheating because i moved into my older sibling's old room when i was 15 and redid it bc it was MUCH bigger than my actual 'childhood' room, but it was my dream design at the time haha. i had pink walls and sheets, and a zebra print comforter. there was a window seat i'd use to climb out and sit on my roof when my parents weren't home, a white board that my friends would write on when they'd come over ( which was all the time ), and literally a futon in addition to my bed in there so more people could sleep over comfortably at a time. i kept the desk + vanity that my sibling used where i'd do my friends' hair for them before school events. my bookshelves were full of manga and i had a closet full of clothes and another full of sketchbooks. i still have the plushie of max from where the wild things are that was the only one on my bed for a long time. there was also definitely a big time rush poster in there, lol.

18. what does your dream home look like? lots of pink furniture, a backyard, and plenty of space to move between rooms comfortably to change the scenery and also to host friends and family. my dream home has a google calendar i send out to let my loved ones fill in the time they're coming to stay, no limits - it's a place where people feel comfortable, just the way my childhood home was, and that's something my parents were very very deliberate about and i know i will be, too.

42. what was the first time you remember feeling seen (by another person, a story, a fictional character, etc.)? this is a hard one !! idk if this fully counts but i think maybe in love and death (album) by the used -- i definitely didn't like fully understand or identify with it when i was . 11 years old hearing it at first but that WAS the first time i was grappling with significant loss at a time i could understand it and that album is, at its core, about that. it's been dear to me ever since and always one i come back to in times of loss and change. i saw them perform it for their 15 year anniversary when i was about to graduate college the first time and it was so full circle for me.

sentimental asks <3

[addierose444]

How I Use Microsoft OneNote as a Student

Long-time readers of my blog will know that OneNote is one of my favorite applications and is an integral part of my college (and life) organization system. For those unfamiliar with OneNote, it is a note-taking application developed by Microsoft. I’ve been using OneNote since my sophomore year in high school and am excited to share why I love it and a bit about how I use it as a student. Before diving in, I will note that I’ve accepted a return offer to Microsoft as a software engineering intern on the OneNote team! 

OneNote is an easy tool to recommend because it is free and has cross-platform support. I personally have it installed on my laptop (Windows 11), tablet (iPadOS 15), and phone (Android 12). Additionally, OneNote is accessible directly through your internet browser. For more about the specific devices I use, check out my slightly outdated post about what’s in my backpack. While I use my personal Microsoft account, I will also point out that Smith students have free access to the entire Office 365 suite which you can learn more about here. In general, Smith students use Google Workspace (Drive, Docs, Slides, etc.) for collaboration because our email accounts are through Google.

What I love about OneNote is that it enables me to organize my notes through a strong hierarchical system (explained below) while at the same time providing a very flexible canvas for taking my notes. Specifically, the page supports typed text, handwritten notes, pictures, pdfs, and more. Unlike other notetaking applications, you aren’t limited to a set page size or format, rather each page is an infinite canvas that can extend in either direction and elements can be added anywhere on the page. One downside here is exporting the page is made a bit more difficult. 

As for OneNote organization, the basic hierarchy is notebooks, section groups, sections, and pages. Additionally, section groups support multiple levels of sub-section groups and pages support two levels deep of sub-pages. My OneNote has 3 notebooks, Addie’s notebook, current notes, and old notes. In this post, I’ll be focusing on the organization of my current and old notes notebooks as they are the ones I use for school notes. I also have some other college-related notes in my personal notebook for work, extracurriculars, and course planning. For quick notes with a relatively short life span, I use Microsoft Sticky Notes which is built into Windows and the OneNote application. 

Within my current notes notebook, I create a color-coded section for each class titled with the course number. My color-coding is used across OneNote, Google Drive, Google Calendar, and Microsoft To Do. The first page is almost always the syllabus (an imported pdf). If the class has other course administration-type documents, for instance, a schedule, I make it a sub-page of the syllabus page. Next, I typically have a page called lecture notes and another called textbook notes under which are subpages with my actual notes. 

If the professor has given the lecture a descriptive title, I will use it, otherwise, I just name the page “Lecture MM/DD.” I handwrite my lecture notes on my iPad using my Apple Pencil. To make my notes more fun and easier to read I use color. Specifically, I use purple, dark blue, and light blue digital inks. I also have some magentas on hand for further indentation and the occasional underline or star. When necessary for a given diagram, I can choose from a vast array of additional colors. 

As for the textbook notes, each chapter gets a page of typed notes with bolded section names. The typed textbook notes are supplemented with figures taken as screenshots from my iPad (where my eTexts typically reside) and formulas added with the equation editor. I also sometimes have a page called handouts or resources with subpages containing those relevant pdf documents.

At the end of the semester, I move all of the sections to the old notes notebook and give them descriptive titles (not just the course number). It’s worth noting that my old notes notebook contains notes from college, high school, and independent learning. (You can read more about my past Smith courses and independent learning endeavors at the respective links). As for my college notes, I have recently started combining the lecture and textbook notes sections (only in the old notes notebook). Specifically, the textbook notes serve as parent pages for the associated lecture notes. In the case of some of my math classes, this is how I organized my notes during the actual semester. I also consolidate some of my related course sections into a single section. For instance, I have a single calculus section rather than one for each of the three courses. This consolidation is particularly important for some of my independent learning notes as each course doesn’t have a full semester of notes. To further organize these old notes, the first page of the class has some course information (course number, title, term, professor, GitHub, and textbook) and links to all of the other pages. The syllabus thus lives as a sub-page to this new first page. The overarching goal is to make accessing my many old notes as easy as possible. (OneNote has useful search tools as well).

Within my old notes notebook, I use sections to divide notes by general subject. Currently, I have section groups for computer science, engineering, math, science, and non-STEM. The computer science section group is further organized with sub-section groups of programming languages and web development. The idea here is to combine thematically related notes from separate sources/courses. For instance, the web development section draws from CS 008 (a website development course I took in high school), the web track of CS50x (Harvard’s introductory computer science course) CSC 220 (advanced programming techniques), CSC 223 (software engineering).

[batarangsoundsdumb]

hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries 

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist. 

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right?? 

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless...... 

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :((((  )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow 

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing 

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho) 

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main 

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist🤩

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet 

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh 

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

[sinfulslanders]

Birthday

Pairing: Michael Myers x Baker!Reader

Request: @nuttybeardetective “Hai!! Would it be alright to request Michael Myers x chubby fem reader who is a Baker, and they find out about Michael's birthday and make him lots of cakes and pies ? Pure fluff if you please ♡♡”

Warning(s): Kind of out of character Michael.

Word Count: 1.7K

Note: I’m a little late. Ahaha. No but seriously, I’ve been going through some stuff. This year isn’t really my year. I just finished my state test yesterday and I just got into the writing mood. I hope this is to your expectations but if it’s not, just let me know.

Before you knew of Michael, he knew everything about you. Of course, he watched you long before he decided to reveal himself to you. He knew you ran the local baker in town and you were known to have some of the best birthday cakes in town, along with other famous desserts he heard people talking about. He would watch you bake cupcakes through the cracked backdoor of your shop, the smell of sweetness always made his mouth water and his stomach grumble. Maybe he wouldn’t kill you until he got to taste of your famous cake or something.

He watched you more and saw the things that went on behind closed doors. Your employees weren’t of much help to you, he could tell they were only there for the paycheck, he heard the things they said about you when they thought you weren’t around or listening, words that surprisingly made him irritated. He knew you heard them but you weren’t faded by them, you just continued mixing the ingredients while humming a song he did not know of.

He watched and watched, moving from just watching you at your job to watching you in your house. Watching your sleep through your bedroom window, watching you day and night. Until he finally showed himself to you. He just sat on the couch, waiting for you to come back home after working overtime at the shop, you weren’t faded by him just sitting there on your couch. “You finally decided to show yourself. If you’re going to kill me, do it while I’m sleeping.” Then you turned off the light and went upstairs, leaving him in the darkness.

The next morning you had awoken to you still being alive, then you blamed yourself for being so stupid to just fall asleep while there was someone in the living room. You had grabbed the ball you kept next to your bed and walked downstairs ready to hit anything that moved. Stepping off the last step, you saw the tall intruder sitting in the exact same spot as last night but he had the box of cupcakes you baked, opened and emptied out. You sighed but quickly focused on the intruder as he started to get up, you quickly hit him across the head with the bat and waited as he stopped and turned his head towards you.

You couldn’t see his eyes through the mask he was wearing but you could feel him staring at you. You were about to hit him again but he snatched the bat away from you and tossed to the side. He stood up completely which caused you to step back and raise your fists. “I’m not going down without a fight.” You were really hoping your death would be quick since you did not know how to fight and he was twice your size. The masked intruder stepped towards you and stopped right in front of you, he placed his hand over yours and pushed your fists down. ‘Well, this is the end.’

You closed your eyes but felt a bit of wind go past you along with the sound of footsteps. You opened your eyes and saw that he was no longer in front of you, you heard something tapping against something else and turned around to see where it was coming from. You saw the large man had gone to the kitchen and had his arm extended. He looked at you as if he was telling you to come to him and you cautiously walked to the kitchen then stood by him. He was pointing at the calendar you had hung up in the kitchen. You looked even closer and saw he was pointing to a specific date, October 19th.

You stared up at him and tilted your head in confusion. He pointed at it again then slowly pointed at himself by back at the date. “Is tomorrow your birthday?” You asked. He didn’t verbally give you an answer but he stared down at you. “Okay, so, what about it?” He turned and pointed to the stove. You were starting to put everything together. “You want me to make you something. Okay, what do you want?” He walked over to the counter and you followed behind him. He pointed to the dessert cook book your grandmother had given you.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you stood beside him and opened the book. “I don’t know if you can talk so just point out everything you want.” You flipped pages and every time he would point that it. At the end, he had pointed to all thirty pages. “You want all of these?! Can you even eat them all?” You felt him poke you in your side with his finger. You looked at him then saw him point at himself again. He wanted you to eat them with him.

You sighed and nodded, “Alright, I’ll make them. It's going to take me some time to finish.” You saw him walk away. You turned your head to watch him and saw that he was going back into the living room. He sat down on the couch and just stared at the television. “The remote is on the smaller table, where you put the box of cupcakes.” You turned around and began getting all the ingredients you needed and soon enough you heard the tv turn on.

You spent hours making the desserts the masked intruder wanted. You even had to go to the grocery store a couple of times since you kept running out of stuff, and during your last trip you overheard from the town’s elderly about a boy named Michael Myers who killed his sister on Halloween night. You didn’t pay too much attention but it did peak your interest since it was the first time you had heard of a crime such as that in such a peaceful town. After you got everything you needed, you went back home and continued making the desserts.

You finally finished around 11 pm and you were exhausted. You called the stranger into the kitchen and you could hear the floors creaking underneath his feet. “I’m done with everything you wanted.” You handed him an icing decorator and pointed at the newly finished cake. He looked down at both the cake and the icing then looked at you. You smiled, “Write your name.” He looked down at the cake and gripped the icing bag in an awkward way before you started seeing his hand moving.

You couldn’t exactly see what he was writing since he was a large guy but after some time he sat the icing down, you looked at the cake and read what he wrote: “Michael.” You furrowed your eyebrows. You thought back to when you were in the store and heard those elderly ladies talking about a Myers boy. It would be a plot twist if he was the Myers boy but did you want to risk asking him that. No, absolutely not. It might be a trigger for him and you did not want to die yet.

“Okay, Michael, help me bring the rest of the desserts into the dining room.” You grabbed the cupcakes and brought them to the dining room, he turned around and just saw Michael staring at the cake. You smacked your lips before you entered the kitchen. As you grabbed the plate, Michael suddenly grabbed your wrist hard. “Relax. I’m just bringing it to the dining room.” He loosen his grip a bit but still didn’t let go.

“Michael, I promise I’m not trying to do anything with the cake.” What was wrong with him? He didn’t even flinch when you hit him with the bat but he’s scared you’ll do something with his birthday cake? After some more hesitation, he released your wrist and you thanked him. You went to the dining room and placed the cake in front of a chair. You turned around and saw Michael right behind you which caused you to jump.

“Michael! You scared me!” You softly patted your chest to try to calm your breathing. He didn’t react in any way and continues to stand there. You cleared your throat and pointed to the chair with the cake in front of it. “You can go sit down if you want to.” You two just stood in silence. You wanted to move but you felt it would be wrong for you to make the first move. You noticed the Micael began to lift his arms up and you thought that your end had finally come. You closed your eyes but only felt him wrapping his arms around you then suddenly lifting you up.

“Put me down! Oh my goodness.” You didn’t know what to do. The whole situation was making you nervous. What was he trying to accomplish? He must have lifted you off the ground since your face and his were right next to each other. ‘Oh wow, he’s pretty strong.’ You could now hear his even breathing through his mask, at least you’ve confirmed he’s an actual person.

“Thank you.” A deep and raspy voice came through the mask causing you to freeze. He placed you back onto the ground but you were still frozen. He could talk? Why didn’t he talk earlier? You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard a chair screeching against the floor. You turned away and saw him sitting down and staring at you, as if he was waiting for you to sit down with him.

You jumped slightly when your watch went off, you looked at the time and saw it was midnight. It was officially his birthday. “Wait! Don’t eat yet.” You went into the kitchen and searched through the drawers for a lighter and candle. After searching two drawers, you found them and went back into the dining room. You quickly placed the candle into the cake and lit it. You began singing the birthday song to him but he just stared at the cake. At the end, you asked him to blow out the candle. He looked at you, you waited but he continued.

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes if you want.” You placed your hands over your eyes as you said you would. There was a few minutes of silence and you were starting to get tired of waiting, you were about to remove your hands but you heard a soft blow. You smiled and waited before removing your hands. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the light and you saw that he was staring at you, the candle wasn’t lit anymore.

You clapped and smiled at him, “Happy Birthday, Michael!”

[givemeweasley]

Groundhog Day Pt. 2

Fred Weasley x Reader 

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: SUICIDE WARNING (there’s no actual death but reader jumps off the astronomy tower. sorry for the spoiler but it’s important that you know that before you read!!! It’ll be the only time it happens in this series though), language, and general angst

A/N: Please if you are triggered by mentions of suicide, please proceed with caution! Also if you or anyone else you know is struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide please call 800-273-8255!! Love you guys so so much!! 

Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

-----

Light. The sound of curtains.

“Rise and shine, girls! Quidditch is today!”

No.

Your eyes immediately opened, only to be blinded by the sunlight filtering in through the window. But as soon as you were able to see, you zoned in on the one thing in the room that held your interest: the calendar above the door.

Saturday February 2nd, 1996.

With no ounce of hesitation you leapt out of bed. This couldn’t be happening.

“Damn, Y/N! I didn’t know you liked Quidditch that much!” Angelina laughed. But you were only half listening, hastily pulling on your clothes. By the time you were dressed and ready, Angelina was already leading the way out of the room down the stairs. You anxiously walking down behind her, wishing with all your heart that Fred and George would not be in the common room.

“Just think Y/N. Now you get to see- Fred! George! What are the two of you doing up?”

And there they were. Just like yesterday.

“Habit.”

“What he said.”

But all you could do was stand still at the base of the stairs, staring out as yesterday's scene replayed in front of you.

“Well then you can join us for breakfast before the game.” And as expected George offered his arm, which Angelina took. Alicia trailing behind them out of the portrait. Fred lingering behind, looking at you.

“You okay, love?”

You wished he hadn’t asked. You shook your head frantically. He took a step towards you, which made you stumble backwards into the stairs. Fred was next to you in the next breath, hovering over your collapsed frame.

“Y/N? What is going on?” His brown eyes held so much concern that for a moment the words almost slipped out. But instead you allowed him to help you stand and help you to the couch before you began to think about what to say.

Do I tell him? Would he believe me? Is this just some crazy dream?

But looking up at Fred told you all you needed to know. He’d believe you. For Godric's sake you lived in a magical castle and could make objects fly at a flick of a wand, of course it couldn’t be too far fetched.

So you turned to face him head on. “Fred, this is going to sound crazy.”

He shrugged and smiled, putting his arm on the back of the couch next to your head. “Try me.”

You took a deep breath. “I think I’m stuck in a time loop.”

Fred blinked and furrowed his brows. “Sorry?”

“I said, I think I’m stuck-”

“No. No. I heard you.”

A cynical laugh bubbled out from your throat as you stood and began to pace in front of the fireplace. You stopped for a moment to stare at Fred. “But you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just there’s never been-”

“You don’t know that.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling more lonely than ever. Your best friend didn’t believe you. If he didn’t, who would? Were you going to be stuck in February 2nd, 1996 forever? Do you even age?

Fred stood up and placed his hands on your arms, steadying you. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing really happened, Fred. But today is the third day it’s been February 2nd. Quidditch is today-” A thought struck you, your gaze snapped back to Fred. “Quidditch is today!!”

Fred looked even more dubious than ever. “Yes?”

But you simply grabbed his hand and bolted for the portrait, pulling him behind you. The portrait swung open and you took off like a bullet down the halls and down the staircases.

“Where are we going?!” Fred shouted breathlessly from behind you.

“I can prove it!”

You didn’t let him go until you made it to the Quidditch pitch where the crowds were already seated. You tugged him up into the stands you had sat in for two days. There were two seats saved next to George, as you’d hoped and you tugged Fred into one of those two seats.

“Where were you guys?” George asked, peering past Fred to look at you.

“Talking.” You quickly responded before turning back to Fred.

“About what?” George continued.

You glanced at George and saw an opportunity. “Talking about our predictions for the game.”

George laughed and raised a brow. “Six sickles Gryffindor wins.”

You leaned back in your seat. “One galleon that Gryffindor wins 340-20. Angelina scores the first goal and the last goal. Ron plays near perfectly and makes an incredible block by standing on his broom. Chang almost gets hit by a bludger twice and Ginny catches the Snitch-” You checked your watch. “In exactly 2 hours and 14 minutes.” You held out your hand to George who was gapping, but not more than Fred’s who was staring at you with a look of awe.

George seemed to shake off whatever shock he had and grabbed your hand shaking it recklessly. “You’re on, Y/L/N!”

“Welcome to today's Quidditch game between Ravenclaw and GRYFFINDOR!” Lee screamed over the pitch.

And then you sat back and watched the game play out. And everything came to pass just as you said it would. A part of you wanted something to fall out of line. For once in your life you wanted to be wrong.

But your ‘predictions’ were perfect, as you knew they would be.

When Ginny caught the Snitch and the game was over with the scoreboard reading 340-20, George grabbed your hand and pressed a galleon in it. “I don’t know how you knew that, but I’m bloody impressed.” And with that he took off down the stairs of the stands, following the Gryffindor crowds to presumably begin the celebrations in the common room.

But Fred didn’t move. Didn’t even look at you.

The galleon felt heavy in hand. “Do you believe me now?” You whispered.

You heard him sigh. “I never disbelieved you, love.” He turned to look at you, grabbing your face in his hands to make you look at him. His hands were rough and yet still the hold he had on you was gentle. It was almost loving. His lips curled into an even gentler smile. “How can I help?”

It felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders. But at the same time, it was at that moment you were forced to admit it was not a dream.

“Let’s start at the library.” He nodded and the two of you got up and made your way down the stairs and back into the castle.

“So what’s the plan?” Fred asked as the two of you stood in the entrance of the library.

“I guess we just start looking for books about time magic.” And so you did. You pulled every book imaginable on magic dealing with time. You had books about time travel, stopping time, fast forwarding time, time warps, the list went on and on. You felt certain you would find something.

But you didn’t.

Not in any of those books did it mention anything about time loops. The closest you came was to individual objects being stuck in time loops within a world that still moved normally around it. But that didn’t apply here. It wasn’t as if you were an egg being turned into a bird and then back into an egg as time moved around you. No. It was like the entire world was forced from egg to bird and you were the only one who remembered it was ever an egg.

“This is hopeless.” You glanced at your watch. 11:57. “We’re almost out of time.”

Fred smirked and shrugged. “We can always try again today, tomorrow.” You sent him a withering glare. He scratched the back of his neck, but his smile didn’t waver. “Too soon?”

But you couldn’t help the slight smile that broke through. “Might as well laugh. But don’t be surprised if I make that joke today, tomorrow.”

In an instant, Fred launched around the table and grabbed you. His hands began to tickle your sides as you squealed in laughter.

“You can’t steal my jokes!”

“St-sto-stop it! Fre-FRED!” You managed to say between your fits of giggles. But Fred wouldn’t ease up.

“Say you won’t steal my joke! Say it! I’m not letting you go until you say it!” True to his word he continued his tickling assault.

“Fi-fine! I-I won’t steal your-steal your joke!” And just like that, his hands stopped. Instead they latched themselves to the corners of the back of your chair, so he was leaning over you. The both of you were panting, broad smiles on your faces.

“Thank you.” He whispered breathlessly.

It was then that you noticed how close the two of you were. Close enough that if you leaned up a few inches, you would meet.

Almost unconsciously you began to lean forward as Fred began to descend. You closed your eyes and reached for his neck.

And then light.

“Rise and shine, girls! Quidditch is today!”

“NO!” You sat up in your bed. Saturday, February 2nd 1996 glaring down at you.

Angelina was looking at you weirdly, standing by the window with the curtains still in her hands. But you didn’t care. You whipped out of bed and pulled whatever clothes were on the floor and closest to you.

Without waiting, you flung yourself down the stairs only halting right at the corner when you heard voices. Fred and George.

“Your hair looks fine, stop messing with it.” George groaned.

You heard some shuffling. “Piss off, George.”

“You’re just jealous you’re not as handsome as me.” The sound of a hit echoed into the stairwell. As upset as you were, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you skip the mirror this morning, mate? I’m clearly the more handsome twin.”

Footsteps sounded from behind you, and in a moment Angelina’s face appeared with Alicia hot on her heels.

“There you are! What was with the outburst this morning?” She looped her arm around yours and dragged you down the steps into the common room. “Well on the bright side now you get to see-”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“Fred! George! What are the two of you doing up?”

Habit.

“Habit.”

What he said.

“What he said.”

“Well then you can join us for breakfast before the game.” Angelina left you to join George and was out of the common room with Alicia before you could blink. Fred, once again, stayed behind.

You looked at him right as he was about to open his mouth.

“No. I’m not okay. Yes, you can help me.” You pointed to the nearest chair. “Sit down and I’ll explain.” Fred was looking at you like a deer in the headlights, but nodded and sat down. You began to pace in front of him. “I’m stuck in a time loop. It’s day four of me living February 2nd. Gryffindor is going to win the match today. Ron makes an excellent save, Ginny catches the Snitch, score is 340-20. Everyone comes back here gets drunk off their asses and goes to bed. I told you all of this yesterday-” You glanced at him sadly. “And I can tell you don’t remember, but we’ve already looked through nearly every book in the library about time loops so I need your help to get me unstuck.” You planted your hands on your hips, biting your lip. You were nervous he wouldn’t believe you. But honestly if he didn’t, you would just have to keep looking.

But after a minute of silence, Fred shrugged and nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you spent your day in the library, looking at books on potions, ancient runes, anything that could possibly be some sort of antidote to your situation. But nothing worked.

And time ran out.

You woke up again on Saturday February 2nd, 1996. You explained it to Fred again. He tried to help. Nothing worked. And you woke up again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Until it had been a month of the same day.

You had told Angelina not today when she pulled open the curtains. It took her awhile to leave you, but at this point you knew exactly what to say to get her to leave the quickest possible.

You had tried every potion antidote, read every rune, you’d even tried talking to Professor McGonagall. But it was all pointless. Every night at 11:59 you fell asleep and every morning you woke up on February 2nd.

You had been dreading this moment for weeks. The moment you’d resort to something you weren’t sure would actually work and could have irreversible consequences.

But you needed to try everything if you wanted a chance to see February 3rd. Tiredly, you pulled on your clothes not bothering to put any effort in. If this worked there would be no need to get dressed fancily. And if it didn’t? Well you’d either wake up tomorrow or-

You shook your head trying not to think of the or.

You resolutely walked down the stairs, wringing your hands nervously.

“Y/N?” Your eyes widened as you glanced up to see Fred standing at the foot of the stairs.

“Fr-Fred?” You stuttered, hurriedly clearing your throat so as to not completely give yourself away.

He looked a little bashful but held up a little package. Chocolate Frogs. “Angelina told me you weren’t feeling well so I figured I’d bring you a Chocolate Frog to make you feel better.”

Your heart broke a little at that. But you pushed his hand down. “Keep it.” And then you kissed his cheek and made your way out of the portrait.

Tears slipped down your cheek. You weren’t even sure this would work, but you were still scared.

The walk to the Astronomy tower was shorter than you anticipated, but you steeled your nerves when you arrived.

The sun was still reaching over the tops of the trees, making everything have a soft warm glow. You hoped this worked. You strolled over to the balcony and peered down. You hoped that it wouldn’t hurt. No matter the outcome, you prayed it wouldn’t hurt.

You stepped over the railing and looked out.

The Quidditch pitch in the distance. Students beginning to make their way over, laughing and joking with each other. You could see Luna Lovegood's brilliant lion headdress from that far as she strolled next to who you guessed was Neville Longbottom.

“Y/N?” You heard a broken voice from behind you. You stumbled, startled at the voice you wanted least to hear. Your hands let go of the railing.

And you fell.

“NO!” Fred’s shout rang out like a gunshot. You twisted midair to see Fred hanging over the railing. His face was twisted in pain, tears pouring down his cheeks as he desperately reached for you.

And his face was the last thing you saw before you hit the ground.

------

“Rise and shine, girls! Quidditch is today!”

For the first time in a month, you were glad to hear it. And then you remembered, that the one thing you were relying on being the answer was suddenly crossed off the list.

And then you remembered Fred’s face. The look that would haunt your nightmares for weeks, as if your life wasn’t a walking nightmare already.

You groaned loudly and pulled the covers back over your head.

“Not today, Angelina. I think I’m gonna sleep this one away.”

You didn’t bother to listen to her response as you closed your eyes and fell back asleep desperately trying to ignore the way the word no replayed in your head.

Taglist: @huffledor-able541​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @scoobiessnacks​ @fantastic-fans​

Let me know if you want to join my taglist!

[lec743]

The Underdogs: A Summer Adventure Ch. 1

Hello! I’m rebloging this since it’s been a year now since I’ve finished this nine chapter fanfiction. I’m still really proud of it and I hope you guys enjoy it too.

Word count: 3699

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Found Family 

If you don’t like reading on Tumblr you can find my stories here on:

AO3

Fanfiction

*******************************************************************************************

           It’s a muggy morning in Portorosso, with only the ocean breeze giving temporary relief. The sun was peeking into Alberto’s room, through the open widow. The same room he and Giulia will be sharing when she and Luca finally come back from Giulia’s Mother’s place.

           Alberto is sprawled on top of his bed, with the blankets in a mess under him and his pajamas only being a pair of shorts. His soft curly, light brown hair was sticking to his face and neck like grease to a sponge. As the sun shines into his face, he groans and rubs his eyes. Trying to hide from the sun’s rays. Squinting, Alberto looked at the calendar that he pinned to his wall, right next to his bed. Every day was crossed out with little black x-es, except for one day, the day that he circled in bold red ink, that showed that it was today.

           Alberto bolted out of bed. He grabbed a random shirt off the floor, putting it on as he stomped down the stairs. Massimo, Alberto’s surrogate father and a one-armed fisherman, was making breakfast in the little kitchenette.

           “Good morning, Alberto,” Massimo greeted warmly.

           “Today’s the day! We’ve got to go to the train station! Now!”

           Before Alberto could make it to the door, Massimo grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt and lifted him up like he was a mother cat holding a kitten by its scruff.

           “Now calm down, my boy. Giulia and Luca’s train doesn’t get here until 1pm. We have four hours to spare.”

           Once Massimo sat Alberto back down on the ground, the boy stomped his feet and flapped his arms.

           “I just want the train to get here now!” He groaned loudly as he twirled side to side, letting his arms hit his torso loosely.

           “I understand. But you’ll be waiting there on an empty stomach. Sit down. I have a caffè d'orzo for you and yesterday I got us some fette biscottate that we can eat with our eggs.”

           Alberto sighed. He flopped into his chair and smooshed his face into the table as he stretched his arms across it. Massimo placed the caffè d’orzo into his upturned hands then returned to cooking breakfast.

           Once the food was cooked, Massimo platted it, then placed a plate in front of Alberto, then he sat down in front of the boy with his own plate and the two of them began to eat. Alberto was halfheartedly eating his meal as one of his legs was bouncing away like he was wearing a moon shoe on one foot.

           “The Paguro’s will be coming over,” Massimo said, “and I’d like your help to make the house look extra clean today.”

           Alberto sighed, then said, “Okay.”

           Massimo smiled sympathetically.

           When they finished eating Alberto helped Massimo with the dishes, then Alberto got the dustpan and the broom off the rack next to the door that leads down stairs and got to work on sweeping the house. Massimo got out some old newspapers and a spray bottle of window wash and got to work on cleaning the windows. By the time the two of them had, swept, washed, dusted, put away lose items, cleaned the litter box, and hid dirty laundry, it was 11:30am.

           Alberto was staring intensely at the wall clock hanging above the kitchenette. Watching each tick of the seconds-hand on the clock as it went round and round.

           “Massimo! Alberto! Anyone home!”

           “Come on in, Daniela!” Massimo yelled from the third floor.

           Alberto didn’t move from his spot at the kitchen table as he continued to watch the clock. His fingers drumming on the tabletop with the intensity of a professional marching band.

           Soon the whole Paguro family was in the small three-story house. First came in strong-willed and caring Daniela. Then her husband, the mild-mannered and affectionate Lorenzo. Then Daniela’s mother, the super cool and laid-back Grandma Paguro. Massimo welcomed them into his kitchen.

           “I’m glad you three could make it,” Massimo said, grabbing Daniela’s hand in a loose handshake, then he kissed her cheek. Then he did it to Lorenzo and Grandma.

           “Hey, kid. You keep staring at that clock and you’ll end up setting it on fire,” Grandma said as she patted Alberto’s shoulder.

           “Mmm.”

           “He’s been like that since he woke up,” Massimo sighed.

           “Alberto you’re going to drive yourself crazy like that,” Daniela said, sounding like a woman who was talking from experience.

           “I know just the thing,” Lorenzo said as he pulled a deck of cards out of his pants pocket, “Let’s play Briscola.”

           “Not a bad idea,” Grandma said, already sitting down at the table.

           Everyone joined Grandma and Alberto around the table and Lorenzo passed out the cards. It took some gentle coercion from the adults around him, but eventually Alberto stopped staring at the clock like his life depended on it and got into the game. The five of them were having a blast, as the time slipped by.

           The first time that Alberto looked up from the card game to look at the time, he saw that it was 12:50pm. Alberto immediately stood up, his chair screeching against the wooden floor.

           “The train!”

           He ran out of the kitchen and bound down the stairs two at a time. He bust through the front door, slipped on the cobble stone road as he ran, but he caught himself and kept running with the same passion as an Olympic runner. Alberto ran past his fellow lifeguards-men, he ran past kids he’s played calcio with, and he ran past every warm greeting that was thrown his way with his only answer being, “They’re coming home!”

           Alberto made it to the train station platform, out of breath, sweating, and jumping with excitement. He could hear the chuga-chuga of the train from a distance and within a few minutes he could see the train rounding the bend. Alberto waved and whoever was driving the train, blew the train whistle in response.

           Alberto watched with bated breath as the train slowed down and screeched to a halt, and steam puffed around its wheels. Not a lot of people got off the train, Portorosso isn’t exactly a tourist attraction, but there were enough people getting off that Alberto had to move out of people’s way.

           Then, through the small crowd, Alberto saw them.

           “Guys!”

           “Alberto!” Giulia and Luca yelled back.

           The two kids dropped their luggage next to the train as the three of them ran at each other and group hugged.

           “I’ve missed you guys.”

           “We’ve missed you too, Alberto,” Luca said.

           Giulia was the first to pull back from the hug.

           “Look at you. Are you getting more muscular?”

           She scrutinized his arms as she pinched the back part of one of them.

           “I’ve been trying to get big like Massimo,” Alberto said, pulling back from Luca to flex his arms at his friends, “What do you guys think?”

           “Look’s great,” Luca said, giving him a thumbs up.

           Alberto smiled proudly.

           “Looks to me like you have a long way to go before you’ll look anything like Dad,” Giulia said, lightly slapping him in the stomach. Alberto clutched his stomach like he’d been mortally wounded.

           “Where are our parents?” Luca asked.

           “They’re coming. They’re coming.” Alberto reassured them, then said, “Are you guys wearing your school uniforms?”

           Their outfits were navy blue with a white collar and a red bow around their necks. Giulia had on a skirt while Luca had on a pair of shorts.

           “Luca here wanted to show them off to you,” Giulia said, elbowing the boy.

           “Well, they look great on you guys.”

           A shy smile spread across Luca’s face from Alberto’s complement.

           “There’s my baby boy!” Daniela yelled.

           The three of them turned to see the adults finally joining them on the train station platform. Giulia and Luca raced into their parent’s arms. As the adults were cooing over their children, commenting on how big they were and how pretty and handsome they were getting and so forth, Alberto went over to his friend’s abandoned luggage and lifted them over his shoulders. He almost toppled over from the exertion, but he managed to balance himself out.

           Massimo tried to take his daughter’s luggage off Alberto, since the man though his boy was struggling so much, but Alberto refused. Halfway to Massimo’s house, though, Alberto let his father take half the luggage, opting to only carrying Luca’s stuff for the time being.

           Once the seven of them were back at Massimo’s place, Giulia and Luca told everyone how their ride was and what they saw and what their last day of school was like for them. They laughed, and cooked dinner together, and told stories of what Giulia and Luca missed when they were away and played games together. Once it was sunset, the Paguro family decided it was time to head home.

           “Come over any time,” Massimo said to the Paguro’s, “I’d like to hear how that one goatfish is doing.”

           “Oh! Libby. Of course. You come over too and tell us about your fishing rivalry with that Greta lady,” Lorenzo said.

           As the adults were saying their goodbyes, Luca and Alberto were hugging each other goodbye. Luca’s only waterproof book, a laminated book about Astronomy, was digging into Albeto’s back, but he didn’t mind.

           “Let’s go swimming tomorrow,” Alberto said into Luca’s shoulder.

        ��  “I can’t wait.”

           Massimo, Giulia, and Alberto waved goodbye to them and watched as they walked out of sight. Once they were out of sight, Massimo was the first one to walk back inside, leaving his kids to themselves.

           Giulia wrapped an arm around Alberto’s shoulder.

           “Don’t look so glum. We’ll see him tomorrow.”

           Alberto sighed, then said, “I know. But he just got here.”

           “Let the guy spend some alone time with his family. He missed them too. Besides, you have me.”

           Alberto gave her a half smile and wrapped his arm around her waist.

           “I do have you… You know, I heard there’s this thing called a pillow fort. Will you help me make one?”

           “Of course!”

           She immediately grabbed his hand to pulled him up to their room to build a pillow fort that they’ll sleep in together. They didn’t do much sleeping though, as they stayed up telling jokes to each other and having fun conversations like, what would happen if the sea tasted sweet instead of salty.

           The next day, Alberto and Giulia were still asleep, the sun unable to shine through to them as they were covered by the suspended blankets, cradled by their pillowy defenses, and watched over by stuffed animal guardians that were a variety of sea creatures. The two kids were sprawled against each other, looking like an unconscious battle had taking place between them. The two of them only woke up when Luca found them and bellyflopped onto them.

           “Santa Mozzarella!”

           “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

           “Afternoon guys!” Luca greeted them after they finished screaming.

           “What time is it?” Giulia asked.

           “One something?”

           Alberto and Giulia bolted upright.

           “We need to help Massimo!”

           “I’m so behind on the fish sales! Dad’s going to be so disappointed!”

           “Whoa! Wait guys. It’s fine. I already helped Massimo and went around selling the fish,” Luca reassured them.

           “Really?” They said at the same time.

           “Yah. He told me how you guys stayed up really late and he wanted to leave you guys be. So, I thought I’d help him. It’s all good. We can all go swimming together now,” Luca said.

           Giulia yawned, which made Alberto yawn as Giulia said, “Give us like an hour to get ready.”

           After an hour, the three of them went to the crowded pebble beach. The Trio ran to the water and jumped in. Luca and Alberto changed as they got wet. Their hands and feet became webbed, their strong tails appeared, their fluffy hair turned into lose decorative scales, and their eyes became reptilian.

           “So where are we swimming to?” Giulia asked.

           “I want to show you two what I did to my island,” Alberto said.

           The three of them looked at the island that was, from where they were swimming near the shore, about as tall as their middle fingers from the horizon up.

           “That’s too far away, Alberto. I can’t swim that far.”

           “It isn’t that far,” he argued.

           “You’re seriously overestimating a human’s ability to swim,” Giulia insisted.

           As the two of them continued to argue, Luca saw a boat in the distance, pulling someone behind them as they stood up on the water.

           “Guys I have an idea,” Luca interrupted them.

           Alberto and Luca each held one end of a sturdy rope that they found, the middle of the rope was tied to a stick that Giulia was hanging onto. Luca and Alberto were swiftly swimming just below the surface of the water, as they dragged Giulia behind them as she skimmed the surface of the ocean on her bare feet. Seagulls flew by Giulia as she felt the sea breeze rush past her.

           “Woohoo!” Giulia cheered as the island got closer.

           “She looks like she’s having fun,” Luca said.

           “Maybe if we get a motorboat, you and I can do it too,” Alberto stated.

           Soon the Trio came upon Alberto’s island, and Giulia was laughing up a storm, exhilarated by the unorthodox water skiing.

           “That was amazing guys. I know you’re good swimmers, but like wow!”

           Luca and Alberto shook the water off themselves, and they reverted to their pink humanoid looking selves.

           “Yah, we’re pretty awesome. Now come on.”

           Alberto led the way to the crumbling tower, and they passed a few stacks of artfully placed piles of junk. Alberto pointed them out and told his friends that they were art pieces that he’s finished when he wasn’t working. Luca and Giulia ooo-ed and aaa-ed at his art, encouraging him to show them more. As they got closer to the tower though, the more the three of them could hear someone else was on the island.

           The three of them got closer to the noise, that was on the other side of the island that they were on, then they crawled over a hill on their stomachs to peek. The Trio saw five young adults goofing around on the island and being rowdy.

           “Who are those people?” Luca whispered.

           “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Alberto said under his breath, “They’re on my island and making a mess of things. I just finished cleaning off the trash last week too.”

           “They’re probably tourists and I bet they’re Americans. Americans have no regards for anyone’s traditions outside of their country,” Giulia muttered.

           Luca spotted someone familiar on the boat sitting next to a woman, who was the only one not wearing a swimsuit.

           “Is that Ercole?”

           “Where?” the other two asked.

           “On the boat,” Luca specified.

           “It is! I’d know that pompous demeanor anywhere,” Giulia confirmed.

           “Do you think he’s okay?” Luca asked.

           “He seems fine and that woman he’s sitting with kind of looks like him. Maybe she’s family,” Giulia said.

           “Either way I want them off my island. Will you guys help me?” Alberto asked.

           “Of course.”

           “What are we going to do?” Luca asked. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

           “We’ll just scare them. Don’t get seen. Do things that’ll scare them away like you and I can bang against the underside of the boat and Giulia can wear the old diver gear to be threatening and jump out of the bushes,” Alberto said.

           “I like this. Let’s do it,” Giulia said.

           Luca didn’t say anything, but the boy was reluctant. He thought that they should just wait until they left on their own.

           Before the three of them could try to do anything, a second boat appeared. It was a fishing boat and Alberto recognized the lady on the boat was Greta, Massimo’s fishing rival. She cussed and yelled at the young adults until they all ran off the island and were motoring away on their speedboat. She sat there for a minute or two, watching the tourist’s boat motor away, then she left too.

           Luca breathed a sigh of relief.

           “Awe. I wanted to scare them,” Giulia said.

           Alberto shrugged, “Eh. Their gone now,” The boy stood up and dusted off the front of himself and walked down the hill to the mess the tourists made, “Will you guys help me clean this up?”

           “Sure.”

           “Of course!”

           The three of them cleaned up the bear cans, and plastic baggies off the pebble beach and took it up to the tower. Alberto said he and Massimo will come back for it later. Then he continued with the tour of his island, showing them the ladder that he and Massimo installed on the tower. He showed them his wildflower garden patch that he’s been randomly throwing seeds onto just to see what would stay and grow, and Alberto showed off the paintings that he painted inside the tower on the walls.

           Luca noticed that the tally marks that he saw last time were now covered up by a painting of Alberto, Massimo, Giulia, and himself, standing together and smiling. Luca smiled sadly at the painting.

           “I like this one,” Luca said.

           “That one’s my favorite too,” Alberto said.

           “Well, I like this one,” Giulia said.

           She was pointing at a painting of the three of them swimming together, but the water was rainbow colored and Giulia was also a fish person in the water.

           “You gave me a fish-sona?”

           “I just thought it would be fun to see what you’d look like if you were like us,” Alberto said, “I’m not as happy with this one as I thought I would be.”

           “Well I think it’s great.”

           Luca’s stomach rumbled.

           “I’m hungry too. You guys want to get gelatos before heading home?” Giulia asked.

           “Sounds great. Will you be eating dinner with us?” Alberto asked Luca.

           “No. I’ll be heading home after we get gelatos.”

           “Alright then. Let’s go,” Giulia said.

           The three of them made it to Portorosso without a hitch. After the Trio got their gelatos, they sat on the rim of the fountain in the town square and basked in the evening sun. As they were eating, they saw Ercole walking by, and he was still with that older woman. Luca, Alberto, and Giulia wordlessly tried to not make eye contact with the older boy, not wanting anything to do with him, but Ercole had other plans.

           “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the three losers,” Ercole said, sauntering up to them with the older woman following him.

           The Trio groaned.

           “I wouldn’t call us losers, considering we’re the ones who won the Portorosso Cup last year,” Luca said.

           “Yah, you sad little catfish,” Giulia baby talked at him.

           “Now go away. As you can see, we’re busy,” Alberto added, then he licked his gelato aggressively.

           “Ah, yes. I can see,” he seethed, “but I really must introduce you to my cousin Rialta. She’s a college student from America and she came to visit my family for the summer with her friends. She’s super smart and much better than all of you.”

           Rialta waved at the three of them, and only said, “Hello,” in a horrible Italian accent. Then in English she spoke to them. Her tone was sweet and excited sounding.

           “She said that you three smell like rotting fish and that you look like scum,” Ercole said.

           Giulia shoved her gelato into Luca’s grasp and yelled, “That’s it!”

           She then tackled Ercole to the ground and messed up his hair and pulled at his ears with Ercole pulling at her hair and trying to elbow her away from him. Alberto and Luca watched on the side lines, shouting encouraging words at Giulia. Only Rialta was trying to separate the two of them. Eventually Rialta did get the two kids separated. She had Ercole slung over her shoulders, and she was pushing Giulia back with her foot. She was speaking franticly in English in a tone that sounded worried and confused.

           “What is going on,” Massimo asked, walking onto the scene.

           “Dad!”

           “Oh thank goodness you’re here, Mr. Marcovaldo,” Ercole said, “Your daughter attacked me, unprompted.”

           Massimo lifted a doubtful eyebrow at the teenager, who was still slung over his cousin’s shoulder. Massimo then turned to Rialta and asked what happened. She only gave him a blank stare.

           “She doesn’t speak Italian, Massimo,” Alberto informed him.

           “I see.”

           Massimo then went over to Giulia and placed his hand on her shoulder. Giulia then stopped trying to get at Ercole and Rialta was able to take a few steps back. The woman continued to hold Ercole over her shoulders.

           Rialta, then went up to Massimo, Giulia, Alberto, and Luca and shook all of their hands, speaking in an apologetic tone, then left, with Ercole struggling to get out of her grasp, but she refused to let him down. The four of them watched her walk away with Ercole, then Massimo spoke up.

           “Why did you attack him? You’ve never done that before.”

           “He insulted Luca and Alberto. I won’t let him try to hurt my friends with his mean words,” Giulia stated.

           “That’s very noble but be careful you don’t start a fight you can’t finish. Okay?” Massimo warned.

           “Okay Dad,” she grumbled.

           Luca handed back her gelato. Then the two boys thanked her for defending their honor. The Trio finished their gelatos, then Alberto and Giulia walked home while Massimo decided to walk Luca back to the beach so that he could swim back home.

           As they were walking to the beach, Massimo asked, “Will you tell me what happened?”

           So Luca told him.

           Massimo nodded, then said, “Thank you. I’ll speak with that boy’s mother. See if she can straighten out his attitude.”

           Luca was doubtful, but he didn’t say anything. He jumped into the ocean, waved goodbye to Massimo, then he swam back home.

           Overall, the Trio enjoyed their first two days of summer in Portorosso and they couldn’t wait to see what the rest of their summer will bring them.

[onceuponaloonatic]

hehe a little follow up to what i posted yesterday because i know your all curious :)

tw: abuse, jail, cursing, etc...

After her labor, Sana is exhausted. She wonders how people do this more than once and briefly wonders how her own mother had given birth to her. Sana had been an even longer labor than Nico was, her Aunt had told her her mother was in labor with her for more than thirty six hours. Sana had no idea how she was able to even get through that.

Her mother. Sana hadn’t thought about her in a while. The thought usually associated with Sana’s parents briefly crossed her mind. When were they getting out? The release date initially set for her parents had been very tentative, but Sana remembers it was still about five years from now. That was a bit scary. In five years her parents would be free again, for the first time since she was a scared teenager. She had sent them three letters over the years. Once when she got into college, a second when decided to major in physics, and a third right before graduation where she gushed about Mina and Jihyo. She never had the courage to go visit them. She supposed she might have if any of her letters had ever been returned, but Sana had long given up the hope of a return letter. It had been nearly twenty years, she wasn’t even sure if her parents even remembered those letters anymore. Mina and Jihyo interrupt her thoughts before she can think about her parents too much. They are both worried about her, asking her if she needs anything or if there was anything they could do for her. They tell her all of their friends were crowded around the window with all the newborns trying desperately to see their baby and probably making a huge scene and that makes Sana laugh. Because she could picture that so vividly, her friends all crowded around a glass display, probably pushing each other and being loud and obnoxious and not even realizing it. That was just how her friends, her real family, were. Sana couldn’t help but smile as she remembered that. Her parents hadn’t been her family in a long time, but she had found a much much better one. It would have been nice to let them meet Nico before the doctors stole her away from intubation, but Sana knew she had no control over that. “Did you get any pictures?” Sana asked the two of them. They had both followed the doctors out with Nico, letting Sana rest for a bit while they watched the baby. “A couple. The doctor let us take a few before they connected her to all of the machines.” Jihyo tries to keep things light, both she and Mina knew all too well that Sana was probably blaming herself for Nico being born early. “Wanna see?” Sana nods eagerly, scooting over a bit in her hospital bed so Jihyo could sit down next to her. “She looks so red.” Sana giggled as she swiped through the pictures. Jihyo had done a pretty good job with them. “Like a little tomato.” “Hey well she is our little tomato.” Mina giggled as she got on Sana’s other side, kissing her head as she wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “The doctors said that was normal and her skin would be normal soon.”

“That’s good.” Sana hummed. “Was she behaving?” “She was being a little fussy earlier though, wouldn’t stop wiggling around as the doctors connected her to the heart rate monitor and tubes.” Jihyo kissed Sana’s shoulder. Sana continues to scroll, both of her wives falling silent as she did. “Did- did they say anything about when she could come home?” Sana stops when she sees a picture with wires connected to their baby. Insecurities bubbled over and tears welled up in Sana’s eyes as she thought about Nico struggling. “They said around Christmas if everything goes well.” Jihyo answered, taking her phone back and putting it in her pocket.

“Was there- was there anything wrong with her?” Mina and Jihyo are both quiet at Sana’s question. Of course they want to tell their wife the truth, but that was hard when they knew it would only hurt Sana. “Please tell me.” Sana begs when she notices their silence. “It’s-it’s her lungs.” Jihyo sighs. “They said she’s probably going to have breathing problems her entire life. Something about them not developing properly and that it was normal for preemies.” That word slipped off of Jihyo’s tongue so easily it almost scared Sana. Preemie. Their daughter was a preemie. “But they also said they aren’t fatal or anything.” Mina rubbed Sana’s shoulder. “They said she will be able to live a mostly normal life.” “That’s good.” Sana sighed. “Can you send me the pictures? I want to send them to my Aunt.” “Yeah sure.” Jihyo smiled at Sana. “Done.” Sana looked around for her phone at Jihyo’s response and it was only then it dawned on her it was gone. “Do you guys have my phone?” Sana asked. “No.” Mina nodded. “I don’t either. I’ll check the hospital bag though.” Their hospital bag had been very hastily thrown together. They would have assembled a real one if it weren’t for the fact that Sana’s labor was so sudden. Because it was, they spent barely a minute just throwing random things in a duffle bag. There were some random hoodies, a change of clothes for Sana, and a couple phone chargers. That was all Mina could manage to get in with the time pressure they had been on. “It’s not here babe.” Jihyo sighed. “Did you leave it at home?” “I think so.” Sana sighed. “I can go get it for you.” Mina kissed Sana’s temple, noticing her stress. “No, it’s not that urgent.” Sana nodded. “I can wait until tomorrow.” “Are you sure?” Mina asks. “Yeah.” Sana pulled her down until a kiss. “Everything I need is here in this hospital.”

xx

Sana is discharged the next morning, but under strict instructions not to move around much. She grumbles about how they don’t have to worry about it, she barely can move as it is. The hospital gives them a wheelchair for her to go home in, but when they get home Sana insists on being carried by Jihyo who giggles and lifts her up slowly. Jihyo had been Momo’s gym buddy for years, as she was the only one who didn’t know Momo well enough to say no when she asked. Jihyo remembers when she told Mina and Sana about it and both of them told her she had made a mistake. They told her that Momo’s workouts were always so hard and took so long that they weren’t worth it. Jihyo ended up still going though, and she found herself getting used to it over time. Jihyo situates her in bed before leaving to take a shower. Mina begins to prepare lunch once she’s sure Sana is comfortable and Sana grabs her phone. She’s still in a bit of a weird headspace. It was weird to not have her daughter pushing at her back or kicking her anymore. It was weird to know her daughter was in the world miles from home. It was weird to think she had a daughter now. A living breathing daughter, that was no longer just a mass of cells inside of her. It was weird knowing she was someone’s mother now.

Sana finds her phone on the nightstand. She makes Jihyo hand it to her before she begins to shower and Sana realizes she has quite a few messages. Most of them are from her friends, and it makes her so happy to read them.

from that annoying bitch

Yesterday 11:56 PM

i know i didn’t get to see you today but i just wanted to make sure you were okay. mina and hyo say you're fine but i promised my mom i would make sure. i’m really happy for you and your daughter is so cute which is honestly surprising considering who her mom is. mina and hyo said we can meet her around christmas and i think nayeon might have put it in her phone calendar, just a warning my wife can be crazy with babies :p

Sana couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Momo’s text. Of course that was what Momo said.

to that annoying bitch

Just now

i left my phone at home, sorry lol. i’m pretty sore but i just got home. you can tell auntie i’m fine and that i’ll send some pictures of nico over in a bit. thanks for checking in, i knew you loved me ;)

from that annoying bitch

Just now

sorry but you know i never have. your just all weird from the post pregnancy

hormones :p

to that annoying bitch

Just now

you’ll admit it one day, mommy knows you're a good girl momoring ;)

from that annoying bitch

Just now

shut up i hate you so much :p do i have to deal with mommy jokes from now on?

to that annoying bitch

Just now

well considering i was making them before and i wasn’t a mom then, yes :p

from that annoying bitch

Just now

i cannot stand you

to that annoying bitch

Just now

your just annoyed i’m a milf and your not :p

from that annoying bitch

Just now

you are insufferable

Sana giggled at that. Her and Momo had always been the same and it was something really appreciated. It may have sounded like they hated each other, but truthfully they loved each other a lot. They were like twins. Sana and Momo. Momo and Sana. It had always, and would always be the two of them. Sana had never had a biological sister, but Momo was by far the closest thing she was ever going to get. She decides to start going through some other messages after she decided she had messed with Momo enough. from momo’s hot wife

Yesterday 12:05 am

send me baby pics

this isn’t a request it’s a demand

i need nico pics now

to momo’s hot wife

Just now

sorry i left my phone at home here

[image sent]

from momo’s hot wife

Just now

OH MY GOD I’M IN LOVE SHE’S SO CUTE BRB I’M GOING TO THE HOSPITAL TO STEAL HER

to momo’s hot wife

Just now

okay but after you steal her i’m coming to take her back :p

While waiting for Nayeon to respond she went through her other messages. They were mainly just congrats texts with a few worried ones, just as Sana was expecting. What she wasn’t expecting was the one from her Aunt. from auntie

two days ago

hey sana, it’s been a while :) i hope the pregnancy is going okay and i can’t wait to meet my granddaughter. just to let you know so you don’t have to find out through someone else… they set your parents' release date today. it’s set for november three years from now. i can go get them from jail, so you don’t have to worry about picking them up. i talked to your mom today and they plan on getting an apartment right after getting out right outside of seoul. i just thought it would be good for you to know. i love you and can’t wait to see you at christmas!

Reading that text made Sana feel like she was going to be sick. They set her parents' release date? Her parents were going to be coming back? To Seoul? The thought of that made her feel like she was going to be sick.

[crybabyjabby]

Sleep-up

Denki x gn!reader

Synopsis: in which you over slept before going on your date with a young electric boy

a/n: my first drabble, YAY! I hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to share criticism. as long as your not rude about it :)

warnings: fluff? angst towards the end if you squint, but not really ;)

word count: 846

__

“Owww.” Awaken by a harsh throbbing on your temple, you slowly open you’re eyes and take in the view in front of you. You’ve fallen off the side of your bed once again, for the 4th time this week?? Groaning, you picked yourself up off the chilling floor and plopped yourself back on the comfy mattress that made you melt inside and out. 

These slumped moments made you feel so pleasured. Wrapped in some of the finest cotton (no seriously, it was a gift from Momo) it was like a daydream, jumping from cloud to cloud. Air like bliss, with a nice lavender scent. It was these moments you wished you weren’t interrupted so abruptly by a spam of dinging messages. Annoyed, but curios, you picked up your phone and wearily looked at the screen.

10 NEW MESSAGES- MINA, OCHAKO

“10 new messages?” you thought. You typed in your password and scanned through your 5 person group chat messages. Momo, Mina, Ochako, Jirou, and yourself, made up your lovely, “bad bitches” group chat.

Continuing to scan through, a certain message caught you off guard. 

MINA: Y/N ARE YOU EXCITED ABOUT YOUR DATE!!!!

OCHAKO: I’m so excited for you y/n :D I hope you and Denki have a great time!

Your thoughts fumbled upon each other, making you question what went wrong in your schedule. “Was today the day?! What time does it start, NO what is the time now?!!” All sorts of things swarmed in your head. Bolting up immediately, you stared deep into the soul of your alarm clock. 

It read- 11:53am. “Why didn’t you go off, why, WHy, WHY!” Knowing that throwing insults at the clock wouldn’t do you any good of what has already been done, it relieved quite a bit of self anger. 

You racked your brain for the time of the date the both of you had planned. It was the first date, how could you be late? When your brain rejected your request, you remember writing it on you’re calendar. Practically sprinting across the room, you caught sight of the huge red circle marked ‘Special Day’. Reading under the bright, bold letters, read ‘be there by 12:15′!  “12;15?!” You whisper-screamed. You remembered everything so clearly now! You were going to meet at the BonBon café by the mall.

After registering what has just happened the clock had the audacity to click to 11:57. That's it, your not wasting anymore time. Speed walking straight to you’re closet, you stared down the mountain of clothes that was on the floor instead of being hung on the jumble of hangers. Rummaging through the pile to find a plausible looking, decent smelling shirt. To your luck, the best thing you could find was a slightly wrinkled, Best Jeanist, hoodie and in the back corner, a pair of navy blue jeans. Slipping your clothes on as fast as you could, you rushed to the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and take care of anything else just to get to the mall in the next 15 minutes.

The clock blared- 12:06pm

You put on the nearest shoes you had, grabbed your phone and bag, and went outside. Checking your phone for the nearest bus stop. Finally something was on your side today. 

NEAREST STOP: 0.1 MILES AWAY

“YES” you yelled a little too loud. Making a few heads turn at you, but you gave them a quick reassuring thumbs up that you’re not crazy.

Nice for you, you were able to hop on the bus at 12:11. Sure the mall was 20 minutes away, but your sure Denki would be fine with just a 15 minute mishap. You used this time to thank Mina and Ochako for there wishes, and to text your new, bubbly boy, of a boyfriend a quick heads-up that you’ll be just a couple minutes late.

Y/N: Hey Denki :)) I’m so sorry but I’ll be a few minutes late to our date. don’t have to much fun without me!

                                                       Sent>

You arrived at 12:33! So very happy to not be passed fashionably late. But with your outfit scratch the fashion. When you arrived to the sweet smelling café you greeted the workers, as you looked for a bright, blonde haired someone. You scanned the room back and forth but didn’t see him anywhere, making your heart sink a little. You took a seat by the window and ordered a cup of boba. Lightly sipping, while thinking what could have gone wrong.

‘Maybe he didn’t have time to wait for me? Or maybe he didn’t want to hang around someone like you?’ In the middle of searching for answers you heard a loud voice call out your name. Which you could only guess was a certain electric guy.

“Y/N I’M SO SORRY FOR COMING LATE!  I should have sent you a message.” You saw a frown nearing his face but quickly reassured him about your morning and showed him your message.

He was a lot happier in the end that he wasn’t the only one whos morning was compete chaos.

—

 Another a/n: HII! if you made it this far, thank you ;D I really do hope you all enjoyed! but again I do this for fun, and to hopefully make people smile

also if you don't get the title, its supposed to be ‘slip up’ but instead ‘sleep up’, if that makes any sense😭

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 22 December 1835

8 10

11 25

No kiss ready in 50 minutes better this morning - fine tho’ rather hazy frosty morning F33° at 9 at which hour breakfast - read a few minutes last Quarterly - Mr Washington came - with him a few minutes - Sowden thought all was settled - wants to look at a lease before signing it - very well - referred him to Mr. Parker - my own mind made up - he must be on lease like the other tenants or give up the farm told Mr W- to take a [gist] of fixtures at Whiskum cottage - out - with Joseph Mann sometime at the tail goit - went and returned along the walk - sauntered there and loitered pulling grass from around hollies - their bark gnawed by mice - home about 12 - Mr Jubb here - my aunt sleepy and better and would excuse seeing Mr Jubb this morning - a good sign - all the servants going on well, but Sharpe the worst - to have a blister at the back of her neck - John got out of the saddle room this morning back into his pantry - some while with A- Mr. SW- had told her Mr. George Armytage had determined to sell his place Horne house and 32 DW of land - SW had before said £4000 for it, but now allowed Mr A- would want more than that - I say he will want £5000 at least - calculate that it will pay A- about 2pc she gave W- orders to take steps for the purchase - right enough - then out with Robert Mann who was just finishing his dinner - levelling farmyard under the back stable asked if I should have any objection to their working on Xmas day - if the men did not work they would drink - agreed with Robert better work than drink - should not like their working immediately about the house but would send them to fill up Adney bridge - came in at 1 10 and wrote the above of today - then at the Barraclough cottage accounts till 2 50 - A- off to Cliff Hill before 2 - out again at 2 50 - out till 4 ½ then had Mark Town - Mr Musgrave called between 2 and 3 and went up to my aunt for about 10 minutes or ¼ hour - just spoke to him on the stairs - meant to have seen him on his going away, but, tho’ I was in the farmyard, I missed him - out from 2 50 to 4 ½ in the farmyard at the Lower fishpond and at the Lodge - nobody there - had Mark Town till after 5 - the bills he has brought me amount to £94.11.9 ½ + £7.15.4 sundry expense + his own and his son’s labour £13.12.0  Total £115.19.1 ½ which I have paid him by check 7th and ditto 22nd instant £50.11.1 ½ + £65.8.0 there is still to pay Greenwood’s wood bill £34.15.1 ½ + to pay to myself for windows from Northgate valued at £2.9.1 and the end cottage is still to do up and water to be brought into the house that this Barraclough purchase will have cost me

Purchase deeds                                  Suppose £25 more to be laid out then

115.19.1 ½                                           234.3.4

34.15.1 ½.                                           25.0.0.

2.9.1                                                     ----------

------------                                              259.3.4

153.3.4

76.0.0

5.0.0

-----------

234.3.4

 some while at my desk after Mark went away - dressed while A- was with my aunt - dinner at 6 - coffee - A- 10 minutes and I ½ hour with my father and Marian - with my aunt from 9 to 10 - skimmed over the paper and just looked over the almanac de Gotha come tonight together with the court calendar from Whitley’s - wrote all but the 1st 19 lines of today till 10 50 at which hour F33° fine frosty day and night, but dark night.