#in ways that'll take years to repair. if at all

[julesnichols]

People with major depression saying they wish they got manic episodes so they'd feel better oh my god shut up shut up SHUT UPPPP!!!!!!!

[hidefdoritos]

How do you decide what to do to fix clothing that needs mending(like what type of mend a tear or hole needs)? And when is something too far gone to fix?

Hey, thanks for asking great questions!

So the two main ways of repairing holes are (1) covering them with more thread or (2) patching. Generally, "more thread" is good for little holes that aren't very worn out, and "patching" is good for big holes and lots of wear! Plus there's a third type I call "preventative mending": fixing things before they have the chance to wear out.

Descriptions of how the mends look and how they were done are in the alt texts.

Examples of "more thread" mends:

A tiny hole on sturdy fabric. Needs more thread!

Some end results. The first one is just back and forth mending. The second mend was larger, so I wove over it. Personally, this is the largest darning I like to do. (It's easier for me to make a patch than to essentially weave my own fabric over a big hole.)

Examples of "patching" mends:

These jeans recently wore through. (I intended to do my DIY ripstop on the thighs, but life kept happening.) The hole is maybe the size of a quarter, but the fabric all around it is also very weak and worn. The line marks where the fabric is strong enough to hold a patch.

Here's the inside and outside of some jeans I've been working on for a few years. I started by actually doing the DIY ripstop. When that was really disintegrating, I put patches on the inside. As the outside disintegrates more, I'll use my machine to do "more thread" mends. That'll anchor the mend to the patch and keep the patch from showing through to the outside world.

Example of a "preventative mend"

I've had these jeans for a couple years. Pockets and belt loops tear often, and I don't like showing my boxers to the world. So, before the threads can tear apart all the way, I'm putting a second layer behind them to spread out the strain and create a little extra protection.

When is something too far gone to fix?

Part of me wants to answer "never," but that's not the case.

Once upon a time, I went to a barn sale, and I found the old owner's favorite pair of jeans. "Tattered" doesn't begin to describe them. Every pocket was tearing away, all the belt loops were popped, the knees were gone, the cuffs were just threads, and every inch of them looked well-worn and well-loved. Repairs, at this point, would take a week.

It's too far gone when the effort required is more than you're able to give.

I got them for something like a quarter, brought them home to wash, and they became my first pieces of patch denim. The back pockets became cargo pockets on some other pants. The zipper got salvaged. Almost all the scrap denim you see in this post is from them.

If the repair is so intensive that the clothing is better as rags/scrap, then it's too far gone.

[Or if it's a holey sock. I hate darning with all my heart. I'd rather chew sandpaper than walk on darned socks. I just hack them up for stuffing.]

[court-jobi]

We Have Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 4,661

Rating: Teen/Mature (spicy second half) 18+ to be safe, my lovelies

A/N: the helmet comes off, separation anxiety, comfort comfort comfort, oral (fem receiving), hand-holding spicy times, my love language is Mando'a, Mandalorian partnerships are top tier, Soft!Din Djarin

Summary: Your heart is torn in two, where your past life and the one you're living in now come to a crossroads and you need to make a decision. Temporary as it is, the stakes feel higher than ever. You're asked to take part in an incredibly lucrative job-- one that'll bring home the biggest paycheck of your life-- at the expense of six weeks of your time, and away from your life partner for the first time in a year.

Now that you have a home, something to lose... something to miss.

But if there is one man who can make you feel like the only creature in the galaxy he would drop anything for, who would support you and your brilliant mind, who would encourage you to the edge of Wild Space and back-- it is your riduur, Din Djarin.

And your Mandalorian is top knotch at keeping his promises and pleasures to you; will give them to you in equal measure:

--in the light of day, and in bed if you ask...

Read on AO3

"That was quick. Back already?"

You'd stopped under the repulsor grille of the Razor Crest, shuffled about until he wheeled himself out from the underside of the ramp. The moment he saw your face, he sat to attention on his knees. 

"--Cyar'ika?"

"He offered me the job."

"Thirty-five…" He repeated, stunned, "thousand credits?"

"--A week;" Dead serious. "Thirty-five, a week."

Din swayed a moment, elbows to his knees; presently, reevaluating all his life choices. “I sure got into the wrong business, didn’t I.”

“Not to brag or anything,” you gave a dazzling smirk his way, “but your girl is a badass when it comes to making the big bucks~”

"What kind of freighters are these?"

"Really kriffing big ones." You gave a smirk, "This is an investment that's gonna take boss-man to the next level of bacta distribution."

"Damn right. It has to be."

How could you not become a mogul with twenty of these freighters in your fleet?

"How long do they need a mech there?" Din asked next.

"Corbyn said the initial contract request outlined work for 4 weeks.." you tweaked the timeline, "-maybe a more realistic five, depending on the speed of things. If they have to order more parts than expected, it could add a couple day’s labor in the meantime. That's not too uncommon."

Din's helmet bobbed around amazed- the tone flowing through his helmet to show he was impressed, 

"That's a hell of a job. You handle things like that?"

"I've done it before. You fill 'other duties as assigned' to kill time while deliveries show up. Things that need the human touch, y’know? Not droid repairs or anything. He's probably got plenty of odd projects I can wrap for him in the shipyard. Speeders, junkers, old gunships he likes to restore and lease out."

Comically, Din looked around to the Razor Crest- his own old girl  that could use a 'bit of work'.

"If I'd known you could handle fleet tech," he rose to his feet to join you, "I'd have given you the bigger bunkroom from the start. Experience like yours deserves better perks than just any ride-along mechanic. No wonder he wants to lock you in."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic~" You laughed. "I don’t need fuss. I might be in demand right now, but m'not that impressive."

"You are impressive.” Din pressed, “I'm not shocked at all."

His confidence in you never failed to make you beam… though it carried weight this time around. The biggest paycheck of your life is on the chopping block in front of you.

The Mandalorian wrenched the tool against the base of his palm. All teasing aside, the stakes were setting in; you can tell by where he looks off now. He asked the biggest factor:

"...And the start date?"

"Well:" you bit the bullet with a gnaw of your teeth against your cheek, "end of this week." 

Din nodded. Brief. Accepting.

"Think you'll be ready in that quick of a turnaround?" 

You froze– that assumption was a mega leap. You hadn't even gotten that far.

"He– didn't really give me a chance to ask what I'd need to wrap up; he went to catch someone else before they left the hangar. But good grief, Din," you crossed your arms and furrowed your brows to confusion, "I wouldn't have given him an answer even if he asked– I'd never just do something like this without telling you!"

He seemed to straighten at that. Surprised for some reason, that you would think this way when it was all obvious to you.

You caught yourself– no sense in unpacking that to death. Next question.

"How did you leave things then?"

"Said he'd check back in the morning for my decision either way. He recognized the ship, knows where to find me.." you gestured lightly beside you, the booster you stood beneath. 

The tense proposition buzzed around your head. This job looks on flimsi to be the makings of a good deal, a strong as hellfire tick on your winstreak, and one you wouldn't have blinked at six months ago. 

But you knew what that would require: leaving. Both your Mandalorian and the Child. Your beloved boys that roped you in and made you their family.

It's funny, the last time you took a job like the old days, things went completely wrong from the start and ended before it ever got off the ground:

It was only a short time after you'd met, but sparks had already begun to fly between you and this Mandalorian; you'd worked so perfectly together so far. In tandem, each other's missing piece. And what's more, you found yourself enjoying the company, knowing you didn't have to go it alone anymore. That was so refreshing– and unheard of. Like the oddest pairing of hard to soft, a sun-warmed kitten to cold humanized steel, you were drawn into each other's orbit to thrive better than you might have alone. This was a partnership, truly. And you saw a solo job as a way to contribute, pull your weight. 

So you agreed to one that came your way one day, and called it an easy win- he'd drop you off, pick you up, same time next week. You'd felt a little funny leaving him, even then. In this time together, you knew you’d surely miss his company, but denied yourself any true separation anxiety: it’s not like it was earned. How could it be? You'd just met. 

But you'd parted. Gone your separate ways with a rendezvous plan already in the forefront of your mind as you went to meet your ride– 

–when an explosion along the tram you were set to board sent a crowd hurtling towards you. If you hadn’t said a long goodbye like you did, if you’d stalled just two minutes less… you'd have been on that train. 

It was pronounced a cylinder misalignment, diagnostic fluke or something like that– and not intentional. But you didn’t know that at the time. A sudden burst of fuel setting the entire transport dock ablaze had you shook.

You'd turned tail to run straight back towards where the Mando had left you– only to hear your name being shouted from a clouded receiver, encased in a beskar helmet, somehow rising loud and strong over the swarm of panic-ridden pedestrians… 

He was running to you, too. 

Didn't bother making other arrangements for the job call in all the chaos, after that. But given that little scare, you both decided to just cut the losses and try again next time the opportunity presented itself. Bad luck, eh? Next time, for sure.

…That was eight months ago. You ruled out any solo jobs, and so did he.

If only for a short tenure, the op; and this time wasn't unheard of or impossible.. But not only were you rusty, but the timing was horrible. And long.

Din set his tool down, finally rising to come up to you.

“We can talk it through all you like…" he posed to you, "But you’ll need to listen to your gut in the end. What do you think?"

You looked back wildly. He was leaving this huge decision up to you?? Did he seriously think you'd blindly accept?

"What do I think?" You started defensive, then… stopped. 

Considered, and easing up, you sighed. 

You eyed the split in the exhaust somewhere over Din's head, the one on its last leg. 

"I think... it would be enough to fix her." You scanned the Razor Crest, her makeshift patches along the outer shell of the thruster. "-And then some. I know money isn't everything, but.. It's a shit-ton of money, babe. It's... doable." you laughed nervously, thankful Din finally joined your side as you explained the pros.

Doable was an understatement. This was more than agreeable, at this paygrade. You'd be a dikut to turn down even half that price. 

After he brushed them off a bit, his hands came up to hold your cheeks; visor trained on you, unreadable. But you knew better. He was assessing, looking for the hesitation, the test of any doubts.

"You could stop taking pucks for a while," with a small smile, you caught his wrists in return "Skyborn knows you deserve a break. You can rest up for once..."

He made a little sound, stroking your cheek in a gentle show of thanks. You were considering you both in this, which broke you more to think about going separate ways for a while.

You ran through the logistics, too– the loose ends.

"And– I figured you'd be off to find that Jedi anyway, and I know how you get about worlds I haven't been to before. This would be an easy one. Just your average, smoggy, Corellian garage.You've seen one? Then picture it, filled with bubba Rhodians and Keshiris, and that's the home away from home." You joked gently.

There were plenty of benefits to this arrangement and Din nodded curtly to acknowledge them, but a gentle shake of his head showed he was still pondering some things, unseen..   You really wished you'd told him all this inside, where you could read his reaction better. 

The quiet from him was beginning to make you doubt your good reasoning at all. 

"Please say something?" You begged softly.

Only one thing came to mind- by the way he was likely running through the script of his whenever he thought of you, you had a good idea what he’d say. 

His aliit. His creed. Your safety, above all else.

"This Corbyn... Do you trust him?"

It was a loaded question. Trust was rare for him, yet you earned his. But Din couldn't be responsible for you while in the care of someone else, which clearly had him on edge about all this. He’d surely wanna meet the guy before you shipped out. While that thought seemed parental, you understood it- and would expect no less from the man who valued you like the finest of beskar ingots.

You braved a little smile.

"I do. He's a good guy. Bites off more than he can chew but--- but it's the same setup as I did back when he hired me for the baby stuff,” you squeezed his wrists, “It would be safe.”

A careful thumb came to your temple, brushing the beskar steel adorning you. Pushed your hair back in a stylish fashion, it did– but in reality was your beautiful proposal gift. Then Din traced the skin just below it, raking through your hair. The touch ached.

"I didn't think this would ever happen. Didn’t know he docked this far out for fueling anyway,” you absently studied you Mandalorian’s thick cowl from your spot here at chest level. “I haven't had a way to contact Wid in forever. Hell, I know I used to do this all the time before, but… It's just different now.” you sunk into him. Your gut deflated, sadder the more you spoke. “And if all goes well at the next stop, well… the kiddo will be gone too."

That still made you sick to think about. Your voice was catching and you hated it.

"It's just a lot think about, leaving you right now. I don't know what my gut thinks about it." 

Fortunately, he soothed you like no other: at the first sound of distress, he’d slid a steadying hand down to your waist and pulled you close to accept his touch. His forehead met yours.

"Mhi solus tome, mesh’la, bal dar'tome" He spoke softly. "We vow these words for this exact circumstance." 

It meant so much more to you now: one when together, and apart.

"My kind, we grow up with buirkan. Our carers have no formal roles. They are buir. They both share the load, they both meet the needs of their ad, their tribe. That’s what partnership is; I… I ask what you want to do, because I know no other way.” 

Din caressed down to your chin, taking in your fully torn expression. 

“I trust your judgment here, mesh’la. I leave this one to you; you know this kind of work better than I do. If you're comfortable.. and -only- if you're comfortable, and you -want- to do this, you have my support. Always."

You wanted to break at this trust, crush and crumble at his bouying nature. He was handing you the reins as equals, despite the hushed strain he said the words. He could say all the right things, but by no means did he not feel. You knew it wasn't easy– not even for him.

Up the repaired ramp, you caught sight of the child peeking out from the ship’s open door. He called in that funny little chirp– trying to sing again.

You smiled, despite the lurching feeling in your chest shaking you. "Hi, buddy."

He waved and watched his own steps as he hurried down the ramp.

You met his short arms just a step out of Din's hold, and brought the child up to you. He seemed to know something was wrong, because his ears fell back the moment his settled at your chest level where he'd reached up for your face. You shut your eyes at the touch.

"This won't be a forever goodbye." Din soothed you, “You know that, right?” 

Din must be forgetting how poor the reception on Corellia is.

You chimed back, knowing the truth for yourself. "Gotta prepare myself as if it is, though."

"We don't know what we'll find there." Din set a hand to your low back again, unable to keep from you for too long. "The Jedi may not even be in Calodan. We could be back before you know it; and we'd wait here until your work term is done."

The optimistic thought did sound better and helped you swallow. 

"That's fair. Stranger things have happened."

Your Mandalorian. Sweet, sweet Din. Under the hum of the air reserves cycling outside the ship, he cupped the back of your head and leaned against your temple. 

"I know you're torn. But you don't need to worry about us in this. We’re behind whatever you decide."

The child looked to his buir. He reached a bit to his shoulder strap for Din, so you passed him over. That helmet of his hid a lot– but not tone. He clearly didn't like the thought of this either; having to explain to the kid why you’d be gone by the time he wakes up in the morning in a few days. 

So he treated it like any other trip. 

"How bout it, pal," he spoke with a quirk of the helmet to the Child, "Would you be ok with a solo trip for a while? Just like old times."

The munchkin cooed at this, fingers raking over the notches. He seemed happy, if he understood at all. Good thing he’s young, you thought. A peaceful hope, at the very least.

It gave you a happy comfort– for now.

The real churning would hit you when you gave Corbyn your answer. When he gave you the gameplan for the rest of the team he’s hiring, and when he got to meet your very intimidating Mandalorian husband– who he profusely sucked up to when he observed how protective he seemed of you. 

When that last night came and you tucked in the kiddo and realized you'd be packing up for your first real time away from your Mandalorian: your husband. 

…for the first time in over a year.

The Mandalorian brought you to bed in the most tender, gentlest way he ever had that night. In complete darkness, the way he did before he'd shown his face: where your senses would be sharpened and you'd feel everything he did, and take your time doing it. 

Maybe it was a comfort for himself too, out of an old habit to shield himself while next to bare that you didn't seem to mind. Through little noises: elated, pleasurable, heartfelt, tickled sighs and begs, he always found his way across you.

–But he heard the difference between a gasp and a cry. 

At the second you inhale sharply in a clear watery sniff he stopped giving kisses down your ribcage. Where he'd been massaging you with careful, trigger steady hands tucked under your sweater, Din climbed back onto his knees and shifted up to cradle your face with those same warm palms.

"Hey.. I'm right here. What's wrong?" Din asked gently.

You process by his tone that he'd halted altogether–

Hands clawed for his arms to come back around you,

"Nono no, don't stop!"

He thumbed beside your eyes, meeting wetness.

 "Riduur.."

"I'm fine, jus-- just keep going, please." your snivels did little to convince him you were okay. Desperate for him as always, but not out of pure lust anymore.

Above you -practically blind- the Mandalorian tensed. Worried for your heart above all else. Testing light, brushing fingers along your neck and onto your chest, he strove to feel past your flushed, quivering shield. To soothe your skin, but also check your heart rate.

He avoided the suspicious edge in his chest with a calm, doting voice,

"We have time, cyar'ika."

"No, we don’t!-- I--"

There it was.

A kiss graced your crown to still you, then a longer one over your lips. He leaned his forehead to yours, calming you with strokes through your hair until you gathered your true thoughts. Naturally, he'd wait as long as he needed to let you continue, but he didn't need to wait long to hear your whisper. 

"Tell me again this is a good idea…"

Tell me I need to go through with it, or else I'll talk myself out.

You felt lips trailing lower in soft presses, taking all your piqued attention while they went on the hunt for a sweet spot. Din’s unfiltered voice made you shiver with each bit he’d speak against the column of your neck… down and up again.

He whispered, beyond tenderness and into reverence, 

"This isn't going to be forever.” A kiss to your cheek briefly, “You're going to do a great job and you're coming through for a friend. Won’t just help you, but millions in the galaxy who will benefit from the work you’re doing. This is something big, and you're being rewarded for it. This is a good thing." 

You heard the smile in his voice and thanked Ashla -once again- for the Grace given to you to have a man like this in your arms. 

"You're brilliant, riduur.” Din sang your praises, “You're giving up so much. But I'm really proud of you... This isn't too big for us."

You nodded, getting a grip and gaining a controlling breath.

“It’s not too big for us.”

“That’s right.”

"I'm gonna miss this." You touched his cheek, craving this proximity while you had it. 

He leaned into it and kissed the palm when it slid into reach.

"I'm right here."

He is here, and the words warm you through, sending a heat wave that buzzes around your spine when you let yourself believe it.  He's right here, and he is all yours. Would be, too, even if you were jumps away in the stars. 

You were one when together, and you would be one when apart. 

The latter would be tested soon, but that creed? You'd take both truths with you as your own. 

He's right here. 

And he proved it. 

Din's tongue made a few kitten licks as he kissed your wrist next; then down, and down, until he merged both your fingers and pressed where you joined into the space above your head. His order, to stay there, while his left yours to send sparks down your arm on the underside, to tease. 

"You know," Din's adoring tone dripped with doting interest while he resumed mapping out your body.   "Just like with 'love', there's not really one word to say 'im sorry' among our people."

"You can't– say– just 'sorry'?" Your voice still sounded wet at its edges, but your chest clipped with interest. "What do you say when you kriff up, then?"

Din laughed with a rasp, but answered, 

"Depends how big you kriff up. Something small, that's nothing. You'd let it go. No harm done."

–Then Din's hands made a parallel move behind your knees, pulling and pinning them up with a sudden fierceness. 

Talking about a tangent: he’s talking about apologizing, but for what… He'd done nothing wrong, you thought. But you let him speak; he's enlightening you. Surely to distract, but by chik it's working. 

From where he sat, he was fully between your legs and about to bow over you.

"But when I need forgiveness, true forgiveness–" 

You hummed for his answer.

"Ni ceta," Din kissed your sternum. The lips dragged downward in a slow crawl, then nearly growled from the deepest part of him: " 'I kneel.' "

You gasped when his tongue swiped up your core. Every end of your body sang out its pleasure at the touch– his tasting you while on his knees. The heat made you keen. Your sweater didn't stay on for long once he started. 

You shucked out of the rest of your nightclothes as easily as you could, then let your arms fall lax above your head again. He wasn't checking that you were holding onto anything, but you minded where he last left them. When you ground up, he pressed you down. When you moaned, he copied you- right onto your clit. And when you sighed his name, those expert hands massaged you within every inch of his reach. 

By all means, you should be on your knees for him for as good as he felt, how he was treating you… falling only just short of worshipping you without words. 

Your drop was coming, coming, coming, and you were about to completely fall apart by that tongue of his. You told him so, with a quiver to your voice and hands shooting down to stroke along his head between your thighs. 

"Din– Din, Din honey…"

He purred into you with a few rounding nudges of his head. 

"Yes, m'angel," he whispered in the space between you, between his kisses, "Lemme kneel for you. Lemme send you off right t'night– straight to the stars, cyar'ika."

The telltale sign was your quick breaths and baby whimpers, so Din doubled down and tamped his arms down on your waist– until you came, hard.

You cried out of complete pleasure now, your sobs turning into pitiful begs with a dazed smile that betrayed any tear at the edge of your eyes. You tried to push Din's head away entirely, but he didn't let up until he heard the actual words, 

"Please!! Please, n-no more, baby–"

You minded your volume only for the sake of the kiddo outside the door; you didn't want him thinking you were in pain and taking it on himself to investigate (like last time). 

Released and limber, you panted as your adoring husband simply took a hand to your core and rubbed it slow and steady to quivering calmness. He licked his own lips with a satisfied sigh in cleaning himself up. 

"There she is." Din's praises returned, "There's my happy Love…"

"You're–" you wheezed, "youh-what’dya do wrong… that y’needed forgiveness?..”

He nuzzled into your neck, pleasure and prayers coating each of his kisses: to cover you with his love before you go.

“I’m a selfish man,” Din craved the warmth he found there, “Tempted to devour you where you stood, watching you run through those schematics with your boss today… Had to hold myself back by a rancor’s leash. Can only hope-” he nibbled at your ear, “-that this is enough to atone for this covet’s heart.”

Pride flooded you, invigorating. Filling you even more than his words usually did.

“Well fuck,” you sighed again, “You’re forgiven…" 

Din's hands petted you, while he dropped kisses up your body this time, starting to settle. Before he got too far, you halted his ascent by his shoulders, 

"But… you don't hafta leave your knees yet.."

With a warm smile you know would be there, you could only feel in the dark how Din’s loving laugh came with its teasing caress to bless you. To wish you only good memories, good thoughts, the things he promised to give you in droves. The love you so much deserved and what he was all too passionate to give you as he knelt between your legs filled you completely, the tale of which came through his tender reach: pulling your thighs back to him– one hanging clear up to his shoulder.  

Delicious scratches made by his fingers skirted down that leg. ‘Want’ screamed its way through touch. Touch that you would miss so badly… touch you would crave when you laid down alo-

"Liser ni ceta, ner mesh’la? Cin vehtin, gedet'yu gar se ner riduur ru’kir?”

Din’s words sent you shivering– of course, you had no clue what half of those meant. And he knew that. Cheeky. 

But it worked, you know. It always did pull you from your misery– curiosity for this man and everything about him. 

“You’re tryna kill me with that mouth, aren’t you?” you chuckled. “Take my heart right outta my chest before I can even think?”

Din kissed your ankle while he teased the soft, supple core where you were about to join– the ‘last chance’ moment he always gave you. Encased in darkness, your sign of ‘yes’ in lieu of a nod was a wiggle to ‘get a move on’. 

“Have that already, I think. Just as you have mine,” Din slid home and relished your sigh at the intrusion. His own groan sent his breaths reeling at the new closeness.

“Really not fair I–  (ahhh) can only catch l-like– two words outta that..”

Din ground up into you. He’s not really setting a pace yet– just getting comfortable and giving you time.

“You know me. I prefer to show you what I mean anyway, Angel-Eyes.”

God those pet names… You’ll miss them as if you’re missing a limb. How will you manage..-

“Gotta remind you of what’s waiting for you when you come home to me,” Din broke you from your thoughts, “...N’... have something to remember you by.”

Relaxing around him, your eyes fluttered shut. Home– that sounded heavenly. And if you had more of this– a lifetime of it, even– well that sounded worth it to you. 

And that little comment told you everything: he’s going to miss you, too.

You moaned lightly, reaching for his shoulder to pull him down. So, he released your leg to make room, and gave you a full, searing  kiss once he laid flat. Even if your positions were reversed, he couldn’t meld with you any closer. 

“S’this ok?” he whispered.

You whimpered your ‘yes’– a happy one, now. Full. 

So you didn’t bother asking what that string of Mando’a meant– but gave your best guess.

“Then– f’you’re asking to make it last… so I can’t forget…” you begged with hands locking onto his, “then yes. Please, riduur–”

Heart thundering wildly in your chest, you caved when Din leaned in and started kissing your neck so deeply, and so strongly, that you knew you’d have no trouble remembering him for the next several weeks. 

Surely it would pass quickly- life had a way of doing that. All was going to work out. 

He would be here for you– together and apart.

He only broke off from the dampened skin of your neck to bow into the curve of your shoulder– before throwing his entire self into your loving embrace from the power of his hips. He kneels there, just long enough to hear you:

“Make this last for me.”

[just-someone-online]

Nightbird in Earthspark

I just wanna see the funny ninja again. Minor spoilers for season two of Earthspark.

Thirty years ago, the Decepticons stole an experimental ninja robot in the hopes of using it against the Autobots and their allies. Much like the original G1 version, she gets damaged in battle (We'll say Optimus was the one to shoot her instead of Starscream, feeling that he had no other way of stopping her) and abandoned by the Decepticons. G.H.O.S.T claimed that if she was repaired, then the Decepticons might try and take her again, so they shut her up in storage. And there she stays for the rest of the war.

Cut to a few months after the final battle against Mandroid. The Autobots have begun the slow process of clearing out G.H.O.S.T's HQ and turning it into their own. They come across Nightbird and decide to give her back to Dr. Fujiyama, so she's loaded into Prime's trailer for him to deliver her. But on the way, he gets called by the other Autobots and the Terrans. An Embershard has been found, and they're pinned down by the Decepticons. So Prime takes a detour to help out, with Nightbird still in his trailer.

Skipping over the battle a bit, Prime's trailer is eventually opened so he can use its cannon, but that also exposes Nightbird. During the chaos, the shard is flung into the trailer, its casing shatters, and it gets lodged in Nightbird's plating. At some point in the fight, it began raining, and when it comes into contact with the shard and Nightbird, it brings the ninja to life as a Terran protoform.

Nightbird awakens, and she sees the Autobots, Decepticons, and Terrans staring at her, confused. She suddenly remembers the battle thirty years ago. Optimus shooting her, Megatron abandoning her, G.H.O.S.T locking her up. Thankfully, she wasn't disarmed when she was put in storage, and she throws a smoke bomb and escapes in the commotion. With Nightbird and the shard gone, the bots all take their leave.

Nightbird remains hidden for several weeks after that. The Maltobots can't feel her through their bond, and the Autobots can't find any trace of her on their scanners. It isn't until Nightshade and Twitch are out getting cave water that they find the ninja, half dazed as she runs out of energy. Of course, they get her some cave water, speedrun through an explanation of the last thirty years, and try to convince her to come home with them. Nightbird is hesitant, as she doesn't want to associate with anyone allied with the Autobots, but she does tentatively follow them back home.

She lets Nightshade run diagnostics on her to see if it's safe to remove her Embershard, and once it's out, she mostly just hangs around the bunker. After all, it's not like she has anywhere else to go. The Malto's help her adjust to being alive and sentient, and sometimes suggest alt mode ideas to her (She's largely ambivalent to getting one but there has been a motorcycle or two that's caught her eye.)

Things are tense between her and the Autobots. She tolerates Bumblebee since the Malto's consider him family, but when the others come knocking, she'll usually retreat into the woods for a few hours. If Optimus or Megatron in particular try approaching her, then she vanishes for a few days. She may not have actually been alive during the war, but it's still hard to forget the way she was cast aside and left to gather dust.

I'm not completely sure how she interacts with each Malto individually, nor do I know what she does in season two proper. So that'll just have to wait for another day.

[rearranged-fanfic]

(Update 6/3)

Sit down a spell, weary traveler. Come and sit by my fire; bask in the warmth of the flame and rest your aching scrolling finger. You'll be sitting a while, for I have a tale to tell:

Okay, so I've had a Toshiba laptop for the better part of ten years. Maybe a little longer. That laptop has survived being struck by lightning, submerged in a bathtub, and literally having a whole bookcase topple down onto it. I thought it was immortal...

I was sadly mistaken.

About six months ago, I noticed that the typing was getting sluggish. I'd patter away at the keyboard and the letters would appear with a bit of lag. That's fine, since I use Dragon to talk-to-text for quite a bit of my writing. I really only use the keyboard for final assembly, editing, and doing quick rewrites. So, it really didn't bother me. Fastforward to April, which we will call The Great Depression. The time discrepancy between typing and having letters appear on screen became a whopping 40 seconds. Yes, I timed it.

But that was okay, because I could still use my Dragon headset.

Until I couldn't.

It would connect, but the words wouldn't appear on screen. I made sure that all of my programs were up-to-date, and that everything was working. The headset connected to my family's computers just fine. So that meant it was something wrong with mine.

Without being sure if it was the hardware or software at fault, I backed everything up to OneDrive and Google Docs.

I factory reset.

Twice. To no avail.

Over the next few days, my laptop stopped registering any keyboard input at all. It got to a point where I wasn't able to turn it on or off.

Taking it to an electronics store to get repaired didn't help, either. No luck. They said that it would be more cost effective to just buckle down and get a new one, since the age of the laptop meant that I would probably be constantly maintaining it.

My poor Toshiba died kicking and screaming, putting up a fight worthy of an epic ballad.

I saved up for a few weeks, got a new laptop, and went through the rigmarole of getting all of my programs back on it. My files are in order. My life is in shambles (but that's normal, LOL).

I DID do some story work without my computer, but... it's bad. Like, I'd die in shame if I posted anything that I thumbed in. So. Many. Spelling. Errors. How people write on their phone is beyond me. That's a talent I simply don't possess.

At this point, I'm thinking of renaming this story "HIATUS" lol. JK. But I'm seriously peeved that this happened after my last big break. Why couldn't the Depression and laptop breakdown coincide nicely? I guess that's too much to ask of the universe *Shakes fist at the sky*.

I'm creating a damn bingo card for every stupid thing that happens to me while I try to write. Because this is getting ridiculous. I broke my fingers, there was a total solar eclipse, I had a major-ish mental breakdown, and my computer bit the big one. With a free space, that's a bingo. Let's hope I don't get a blackout before the end of 2024.

I doubted the fanfiction curse. I really did. But it's apparently real. And this writer's curse has teeth, people. It bites hard.

I have my MerMay two-shot pretty well done (because I was typing it during The Great Depression), but the next chapter for REARRANGED is still rough. Crimson Chapter 3 is halfway done, but who knows how long that'll take.

The bottom line is that I'm alive and still working on the stories. The next update on this blog will be the posting of several chapters for a few different works. Fingers crossed.

Also, I'm very, very slowly answering the comments in my AO3 inbox. Some of them were pretty lengthy, so it might take a bit. Oof.

If there ever comes a time that I drop this fanfiction or am unable to continue for whatever reason, either I or my husband will be posting the entirety of my outline, as well as anything that's been pre-written for you guys to enjoy. That way there are no questions left unanswered or mysteries unsolved.

[soulntes]

THE TRUTH UNTOLD - PROLOGUE

[THE TRUTH UNTOLD SERIES]

the life of pandora is an experience very phenomenal. to be able to witness personally gives you a different perspective of life itself and.. when you start growing to loving her so much, very impossible to ignore the harm it's done on her.

humans on earth only hear stories and news about the planet from their televisions and papers about 'their new earth'. as well the indigenous inhabitants living there but it includes pieces of lines explaining their hostile personalities and unwelcoming behavior. how would any human feel empathy towards the navi of their situation of sharing anything of their home when all they done is discover a new way of life, wanting to bring a whole species to drive them out?

scientists do. they learn and teach but nobody lends an ear for a learning experience about the connection their people have for their mother planet. most humans don't want to. not when they destroyed their mother out of greed, money, power, and superiority. why would they care when they already destroyed beyond repair.

it is all about perspective. time to wake up and face the truth. those who want to learn, they learn and use it to survive without expecting to getting anything in return.

those who a dream about a new life learn to love and embrace their new them.

the sully sister dreamt of a new beginning. away from her past and agonizing pain which she trained hard for years has finally paid off. her dream of loving another became vibrant and clear of what her path will be.

her dreams of flying through the wild life, running on branches and plants that grew to be felt down her feet, the sun setting to watch the stars to reach it's brightness, shining above her and.. someone else.

their blue four fingers grazes softly on hers to bring them to his lips for a peck. the soft, tender kiss melted her heart by how gentle he treated her as he looks at her with those yellow eyes of love.

this felt like a lovely warm spring when flowers blossom with a fresh start in their lives, enjoying the sun feeding them life and exploring their experiences in person.

it seemed all but a dream.

sooner or later.. you're gonna have to wake up.

the military trained woman participated in the avatar program was offered a once life time opportunity for humanity to discover.

she wanted to leave earth because of how human treated their mother over the years. instead of helping her heal and reemerge her beauty, they kill her more for money and power and selfish needs until she no longer exists.

her instincts dedicating her teenage years to study what is beneficial from dr augustine's book about the navi. nine foot tall, dark shade of blue the aliens appeared as with four fingers, big pointy ears, and a long tail. their appearances look alike towards a feline but they have a lean, slim figure. hair decorated of beads and styles to their liking representing their image that'll be vividly know amongst their clan.

their culture surrounding solely on their great mother eywa who's connected to all living things and their guidance in life that takes a huge role in their entire lives. traditions around the birth of their newborns and journeys that are remembered with songs and story telling surrounding the greatest accomplishments.

everything on pandora seemed lively with how much you get to discover with your very eyes. falling in love with a bond so sacred and meaningful developed something she wished that happens on earth and be with the one you love for all eternity.

feel the love, every single touch, any ounce of pain, and their thoughts about you in their eyes that hold eternity.

but it was a better experience to go to the wonderful, one of a kind planet and witness the beauty of it personally.

nobody knows what awaits in the forest of mystery and love to unravel.

deep within nature was a man, a mighty warrior, in his lonesome time awaiting for a sign to protect the people and those he cares for deeply. for his heart broken yearned something he's been dreaming of, out of his reach. then he starts dreaming a woman. a strange dream walker by the look of her hands offering to accept.

a woman's touch is a remarkable sensation when you feel the love and affection and appreciation of their efforts. a woman who'd dedicate herself into providing happiness and warmth in his toughest times. a woman who he's never met and a man devoting his life to protect his people.

her presence made it all so nerve wracking by her beauty compared to the stars of the darkest eclipse. her joyous smile that he only sees.

a hand out of reach not knowing what awaits them and wait for their time to come as it's all planned by the great mother herself, not bearing seeing those sensitive to suffer and the strongest to ignore their wants.

until they meet in a few years.

TAGLIST

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @misscaller06 @theunfortunateplace @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

[itsnothingofinterest]

Saw the ask from linkspooky and you're both definitely right, it's like the reporter lady (and presumably more since she's meant to represent others, I guess?) missed the point entirely. She wasn't in any way wrong to snap at endeavor, at least implying him as the root cause of a lot of bad happenings, because it's the truth right?

I really hope that this direction is not what hori follows through with, cause what it looks like the message is saying here, is that you shouldn't blame the heroes no matter what, even if it is their fault because that'll be 'damaging'. Despite the obvious truth that if someone had checked endeavor somehow in the first place a lot of damage wouldn't have happened. Do you feel similarly?

Also am I sending you too many negative/critical asks? Should I send less?

(in response to this)

Yeah I’m hoping the same too. Like I think I’ve shared with you before that I’m hoping all this unearned hero hype is just an excuse to end My Hero part 1 on a high note in preparation for a part 2; because boy is all this a terrible way to actually leave things.

Because what you said about how a lot of damage could have been avoided if someone had questioned and checked on Endeavor and his family way earlier into things; that’s true going forward too. If heroes keep that infallible air, what’s to stop another hero from abusing their family? Especially knowing how Endeavor's been treated by the justice system. Already horrible enough; but then what’s to stop that hero's victims from becoming a villain(s) to get revenge on that hero and all the heroes like them as Dabi did*?

It’s the main problem I always mention having with the resolution this arc and it's attitude to the status quo is heading towards; everyone’s fighting to restore order and peace, but zero counter-measures are being considered to prevent more hurt or suffering that’ll loop us right back to this chaos. There’s a few who said they’ll look out for one (1) villain-generating issue; but the method they'll do so is the same as what heroes have always done, be inspiring and nice and junk. And let’s be real; if everything that made the League happened under All Might’s nose for 40 years, what are these guys expecting to accomplish doing the same thing? Is it something different? Because Far Cry tells me that's the definition of insanity.

When I said addressing evil is incompatible with not causing a bother, that’s one of the ways I meant it; the kids and those backing them need to take a hard look at hero society and repair the cracks in it to save those who’re falling in them. Or else one of these days, one of those maggots Shigaraki talked about that are crawling back out of them will tear those whole thing down. Or it’ll last 100 or so years and get taken out alongside humanity by the Singularity that everyone was too busy with villains to deal with. One or the other; either way it can’t last.

So again, reaaaaaaaaaaaaally hoping there’s a part 2 to address all that. Or failing that; that the kids suddenly start being very open to the League being right about stuff and how that should influence their impact on hero society. Because otherwise, things aren’t looking good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also as ever I want to say that no, you are not sending me too many asks. And you shouldn’t worry about your asks being to negative or critical either; since it’s the story, or at least it’s characters’ decisions, that are giving us reason to be critical. Though I would hardly say no to an opportunity to gush over stuff rather than criticize stuff. But either way, I like getting asks; they’re prompts to give my thoughts, with the knowledge people want to hear them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*I'm sure some will say Shoto will be the counter measure to that, he'll stop such abuses. But sorry to burst any bubbles; nothing like that has ever played into his arc. It's always centred on healing the Todoroki family’s damage, and him (alone) not becoming a hero like Endeavor. Besides worries of his own behavior, he's never really thought about other heroes acting like Endeavor.

Now theoretically he could still get the idea to do something about it before series end...but at this point, that's only happening if a) he starts listening to Touya's arguments, realizes he's right, and decides to do something about it less-violently as I outlined above, or b) we get that part 2 where he might get a lot more time to figure things out on his own. So...yeah.

[natalieironside]

For the writing ask game: 15, 40.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I dogear pages sometimes out of convenience, mea maxima culpa, but I try to be very careful with books. A tangible object that'll last years and years if you take good care of it and can be easily repaired with a bit of tape is a goddamn rare thing to see these days; a good book is like a steel tool or a good pair of boots to me.

I highlight and annotate the hell outta them shits, tho. Reading and interpreting a book, especially a really juicy one you keep coming back to over the years, is like having a conversation with it. I always think it's a special treat when I get my hands on a book that somebody else has marked up, so I hope whoever ends up with any of my books feels the same.

As for that last bit, well, "judge" is a strong word. I sure do wish more people gave books the kind of reverence I do, but at the end of the day you can dispose of your own property in whatever way you see fit and it's none of my business. Also, people take respect for books waaaaaay too far a lot of the time, like all the ridiculous backlash against Marie Kondo or the annual freakout about library weeding, and I definitely don't wanna associate myself with any of that.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

The fat cat on the mat    may seem to dream of nice mice that suffice    for him, or cream; but he free, maybe,    walks in thought unbowed, proud, where loud    roared and fought his kin, lean and slim,    or deep in den in the East feasted on beasts    and tender men. The giant lion with iron    claw in paw, and huge ruthless tooth    in gory jaw; the pard, dark-starred,    fleet upon feet, that oft soft from aloft    leaps on his meat where woods loom in gloom--    far now they be,    fierce and free,    and tamed is he; but fat cat on the mat    kept as a pet,    he does not forget.

--J.R.R. Tolkien (attributed in fiction to Sam Gamgee), published in The Adventures of Tom Bombadil

[neons-library]

Apples to the Core: Chapter 3 (My Little Pony FIM Fanfiction)

Summary: (This Fanfiction takes place a few years after “The Ending of the End”) With Equestria in a new age of peace, longer than it’s ever seen, many ponies have settled down into permanent lives and relationships. The Apple Family in particular is settling into a new normal. News of a new member joining their family stirs the Apples into reminiscing on the past, and planning for the future.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55894174

FimFiction Link: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/557478/apples-to-the-core

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/neons-library/750596754667405312/apples-to-the-core-chapter-2-my-little-pony-fim?source=share

Next: https://www.tumblr.com/neons-library/753851428457545728/apples-to-the-core-chapter-4-my-little-pony-fim?source=share

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A few months had passed since Big Mac and Sugar Belle's initial pregnancy announcement, however despite the allotted time, the bustle the family faced of prepping for a new foal had not calmed down. Big Mac, most of all was working tirelessly to ensure that all precautions were taken, and all plans were being made. Though his family assured him that they'd be there to help, no matter what, Big Mac still found himself worrying endlessly, day in and day out.

He'd even stopped his monthly hangouts with Spike and Discord, much to his friends' annoyance. Discord in particular had been exasperated by Big Mac's constant absences, even pointing out the incredibly long time that ponies were often pregnant for.

Of course, though, Big Mac knew his friends wouldn't be happy with his decision. Mac wasn't entirely happy with his constant worry either, it was a surprisingly exhausting thing, to be worrying all the time. He wondered whether Princess Twilight felt this way often...

Regardless of his friends and family's worries, Big Mac pressed on, planning and prepping like a mad man. Truly, the amount he had planned for, as far as this foal was concerned, could've put any plan or schedule Twilight Sparkle had ever made to shame.

That is why, on this particular day, just after Big Mac had finished reading through yet another parenting book- and was fussing about the house at all the details the book had pointed out about baby-proofing, Granny Smith decided to take matters into her own hooves.

The elderly mare knocked the book out of her grandson's hooves and looked him square in the eye. "Alright sonny,I've had enough a' yer nonsense. C'mon, we've got to find somethin' that'll cool yer mind off." The pale green mare examined the living room around them, her eyes settling on the nursery door just beyond. "There..." she said, grabbing her grandson's yolk and pulling him along as she walked. She was relieved when he didn't resist, and followed along with her. She wasn't afraid to give any youngin' what for, but she didn't have the strength she once did to pull it off.

"Yer wound tighter than a piggy's twirly tail! We need somethin' nice an' relaxin' for you to focus on." She heard Big Mac huff, but he still didn't resist. Granny let go of his yolk and pushed open the nursery door. Just as she had expected, the room was still very much in need of renovation. The small room wasn't in dis-repair, but it could sure use a fixer-up if a new baby would be staying in there soon. An idea snapped into Granny's head and she grinned, rubbing a hoof along her chin in deep thought. "Yes, I think that'll work nicely."

A few small boxes where piled in a corner, and the furniture in the room had been covered in white cloths, dust clinging to their surfaces. He guessed that the pale green curtain on the window also contained a lot of dust... so much more for him to do. Big Mac hated that he noticed these things to be done, but then he knew he only really trusted himself to get all of this work done. Granny suddenly turned to Big Mac, and pointed a hoof at the room. "Now, you get to work cleanin' this place up." She stated, beginning to walk away from the room, towards the other end of the house. "Imma go get some supplies. I want that room all clean when I get back." She called out, not bothering to look behind her as she trotted away.

Big Mac was still confused by her behavior, but chose not to worry about it for the time being. After grabbing a broom and dustpan from the kitchen, he began the work, deciding to enjoy the peace and quiet of cleaning the small room. He swept the floors clean, revealing the pretty dark wood that had been hidden under many years of dust. He gently gripped the curtain end in his teeth, and shook the cloth, watching the dust puff up into the air, and fall down onto the floor. He swept that up as well, and shook off the dust of the coverings on the furniture in the room. Nostalgia swept over him as he revealed more of the room, fond memories of his own time spent there, and his younger sisters when they were infants.

Big Mac lifted a single hoof up to the railing of the crib that sat in the corner of the room. Sturdy wood, painted and polished to perfection, and had been in the family for a few generations. He felt his heart swell with pride at the thought of it carrying on into the next generations, cradling and keeping safe the next line of Apples. Big Mac's trip down memory lane was cut short, however, when he heard a clattering of metal behind him. The stallion whirled around to see Granny in the doorway once more. The old mare had brought back two paint buckets, brushes, and drip cloth with her.

"Paintin's a nice little activity, It'll keep yer mind offa worryin'... for now at least." Big Mac wasn't entirely sure if the nursery needed a new coat of paint, but he wasn't about to disagree with Granny at this point. He really did need something to take his mind off of the worry and stress, if only for a moment. He drew back the curtains and opened the window, breathing in the cool fresh air. As Granny set out the drip-cloth along the baseboards, Mac moved the furniture out of the way, temporarily into the living room. Using the back claw of a hammer, Granny pried open the two cans of paint, and gently stirred the colors back into their original form.

She handed one bucket to Mac, and pushed her own over to an opposite corner of the room. Silently, the two ponies began their work, brushing on a calming pale-green onto the walls. The two didn't speak for some time as they worked, simply enjoying the ambiance of the sounds of nature from the window, and the gentle bristling of the brush on wood. Granny Smith suddenly chuckled to herself from the corner where she was working. Big Mac paid no mind to her noise, until she chuckled again, slightly louder this time.

"Did I ever tell you bout' the time your Pa put a hole- straight through the wall of the livin' room?" Big Mac's ears perked up at the mention of his father. Aside from the few memories he had of his parents, and the ones he'd been told outside the family, many of the stories of his father hadn't been told to him. "Nope..." Mac replied, hoping his mild answer would encourage Granny to share the story. "Well," she started, setting her brush along the rim of the bucket, and settling herself on the floor.

"He'd just gotten his cutie mark not a month before, an' he was sproutin' up like a weed. That boy was grown' faster than I could keep up with." Big Mac smiled at that remark, reminiscing on his own growth-spurt, that for him had practically happened overnight. "He was a hard worker, even that young, an' he always meant well, but my..." Granny let out a hearty chuckle. "That boy just didn't how his strength!"

"He'd learned to be careful with the farm equipment, after he'd nearly broken some of it, with those big hooves a' his." Granny snipped, remembering the cost it'd been to fix the farm equipment her son had nearly wasted. "Anyhow, he learned how ta' be nicer to the equipment, but apparently it didn't stick in his mind to be the same way to the house..."

Big Mac had set down his brush at this point, deciding to leave the first coat he'd done to dry, while he listened to his grandmother weave her tale. "It was a nice spring day, the apples were ripe, an' most of our family had come out to work at the orchard. But, I had ordered yer Pa to stay inside that day." Granny lifted a hoof to her chin as she recalled some of the finer details of that long-passed day. "He'd caught somethin' fierce an' could hardly stand up outta bed. Might've been the chicken flu... or maybe it was pig-pox...?"

Big Mac huffed a tiny, breathy laugh. It wasn't so much that he found his grandmother's confusion amusing, as it was that she tended to lose the plot when describing the needless details of a story. Still, it was a story, and one of his father. Those had been rare to come-by his entire childhood, and for most of his young-adult life. Now that the Apples and Pears were opening up about the past, he took every chance he could to listen to their stories, especially ones about Bright Macintosh.

"Well, whatever it was, he had it bad, an' I reckon it tore him up that he couldn't help out with the work. Never-mind we had plenty a' help anyway. He was given me so much trouble that mornin' I practically had to rope him to his bed, kept gettin' up every few minutes and fussin bout' the house." Granny grinned as she continued her story, the joy of remembering her son, even in a frustrating moment still making itself known.

"Now, I hadn't been there when he put the hole in the wall, one a' yer cousins had been in the livin' room at the time... can't for the life of me remember who though..." Granny squinted in frustration, trying to remember, and eventually giving up. "Well, yer father had apparently wandered out of his room again, and yer cousin was just about to get me when well..."

Granny let out a heartier chuckle, holding a hoof up to her chest as she laughed. Big Mac leaned forward from where he sat, now completely wrapped up in the narrative his grandmother was weaving. "Now, I can't say-" Granny started again, still laughing faintly to herself. "What in Equestria's name was goin' on through yer father's head, but I reckon he though he was already out workin' in the field."

"Cause next thing yer cousin knew," Granny continued, "Bright Mac had grabbed a basket that was layin' by the chairs, brought it to the far wall of the livin' room, leaned forward in front a' the wall-" Granny shook her head, a smile still present on her face. "An bucked his legs right through the livin' room wall. Before anyone knew it, I had a brand new window, right where a good sturdy wall used to be." Granny sighed to herself, and let her words linger for a moment. Her vibrant amber eyes shimmered as she remembered the cousin telling her the news, frantic and panicking, just as any pony would in that scenario.

"Well anyhow, yer cousin came an' got me of course." She stated, standing back up from her spot on the floor. Big Mac followed suit. "When I got back to the house, yer Pa was scoopin' up bit's a' drywall an' scooping it into the bucket, like he woulda done with fallen apples. I reckon his fever was so bad, he couldn't tell fruit from foundation!"

"Yer Pa wasn't in trouble, just yet. I had a doctor come over an' give him some good strong medicine. He was better not long after, an' helpin' me an' the family repairin' the wall too." Granny turned and stirred her can of paint again, picking her brush back up and starting on a new coat. "A' course we has apologizin' none stop, he felt more than bout' bought breakin' our home like that."

"But I figured, him learnin' how to repair a wall, build up the wood an' foundation again was enough to makeup for it. He was plum out of his mind when he broke it anyhow."  A light gust of wind blew in from the open window, bringing with it the fresh sent of an autumn afternoon. The familiar sound of the brush grazing over the wooden wall, as the two ponies began their work again. "It was fine after that... I think that wall might even be stronger than the rest of the house now..." Granny concluded.

A few moments of silence passed as the two ponies worked again, simply enjoying the others company, and the work they put their hooves to. After a moment though, Big Mac spoke up, still lingering in the joy hearing a new story about his father had brought him. "It was nice... hearin' bout' him." He commented, setting his brush down on the rim of the bucket as he moved to another wall of the room.

"Maybe, sometime... while we're still gettin' ready, I can hear more stories like that?" He asked, hoping now that the years of openness from the family would encourage his grandmother to share more stories, from whoever or whenever. Granny smiled and nodded to her grandson, the silent confirmation was all he needed. Granny wiped a hoof across her forehead and looked about the room. Most of the walls had been painted, there were only a few more coats to do.

"Y'know," She said, walking over to Big Mac who was already beginning work on a new coat of paint. "I think we've done enough good work fer now." She patted his shoulder and grinned. "Why don't we grab some lunch, an' I can tell you some more bout' yer Pa." Big Mac smiled widely, setting the brush down, and closing the lids to the paint cans. He followed Granny out of the nursery, gently shutting the door behind them.

"I've got a lot like that one, an' more bout' yer father. Stories like it just come from bein' a parent." Granny commented as the two walked across the living room to the kitchen. "I'm sure you an' Sugar Belle will have yer own stories to tell someday." Granny sat herself down at the kitchen table, as Big Mac walked over to their cupboard and began prepping lunch. "At the very least, it's a good way to pass the time." The old mare proclaimed, more than happy that she'd lived a long enough life to raise her own child and grandchildren, and she hoped, more than anything, that she'd at least get to meet her great-grand foal.

"Eeyup." Big Mac agreed, spreading out bread, peanut butter and apple slices on the kitchen counter. His worry, to do the best, and prepare for the worst still remained... he wasn't entirely sure that those feelings would ever go away the closer he got to being a father. Regardless of those feelings though, he felt better now. He'd always known his family would be there for him, and he was sure that he could handle whatever came his way. That he, and Sugar Belle could do this... and, at the very least, they'd have some interesting stories to tell when all was said and done.

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[amelikos]

Some character notes and episode notes for HZ047, writing them down for future reference.

The ep starts with Liko, Roy and Dot going to Cercle Town. Dot is tired (she isn't used to walking after all and easily gets exhausted) and complains, Roy tells her that she needs to build stamina but she retorts that her battles are about cleverness and using her head, not stamina. (It's fun seeing her complain and be open like that with her friends, and I think she'll be a bit more used to walking by the end of the arc)

As they reach the town, Dot films the bug Pokemon she gets to see (and she seems excited about seeing them and knows about Kaede being specialized in bug types so she assumes they feel at home there). Nyarote notices Liko seems lost in her thoughts, and Dot does too. She asks Liko if she is nervous (small moment I really liked since it shows that their dynamics is a two-way street and it's not just Liko paying attention to Dot and her feelings, Dot does too. It made me think of how Dot noticed Liko was pushing herself back in HZ027 and asked her about it when they were alone together, really like these kinds of moments). Liko admits she is, and Roy tries to reassure her by saying that she battled Rayquaza so she'll be fine (Roy is the type to approach things more positively). Liko is still worrying though, because that'll be the first time she'll use Terastal in a battle and she's never done it before, so she doesn't know how it's going to go... (it's like being nervous before an exam, and I like how this was portrayed and how Liko is still shown overthinking and being nervous and that this trait of hers doesn't magically disappear, she just learns to work around it better)

They head to town and decided to have some snacks first before heading to the gym (Hogator followed a food trail, and Nyarote looked out for him and alerted Liko by using her yoyo). Dot seems excited about the food. She is taking pictures of it and pays attention to how it tastes like, acknowledges that she's never had anything like it before.. (her food options are widening day by day, and it's good and important that she is looking forward to food now, after having trouble with it for so long, and that she is enjoying it with her friends) There were fun moments with the Pokemon too. Terapagos asking for more cake (and Liko giving everything she had to him, she barely ate it), Kaiden and Hogator beefing and Hogator quickly finishing his food before Kaiden could steal it (we really need to see more of Kaiden), and Kuwassu sharing his cake with Kanuchan who was about to cry because she finished hers cake and still wanted more (it's cute how he looks out for her ever since she joined the team).

Murdock eventually joins the kids since he is working part time at the shop to earn money for the ship repairs. The Pokemon are happy to see Iwanko again too. Murdock compliments Dot on her new outfit and she gets embarassed about it (she still can't take compliments well), and reveals Mollie is the one who picked it (it's nice how Mollie really looks out for Liko and Dot and takes care of things like that, especially because she picked an outfit that fits Dot's preferences in terms of clothes). Lots of casual Dot and Murdock interactions in this ep, which were good. During the first year, I felt like Murdock was a bit hesitant to approach her sometimes, like he was afraid of pushing her away if he was too overbearing, but now they talk casually and there is no awkwardness anymore. Anyway, Murdock explains to the kids that he is working part time with Kaede, and that the shop is busy every day. He seems happy about doing what he likes, and the kids notice he seems to be having fun too.

Afterwards, Liko and the others hear a commotion and decide to check what's happening. Sango is at the shop and complains to the owner about the limited sweets being sold out and demands that she makes another one for her. Dot points out that she is a textbook whiny customer ww Liko and Roy look at each other and decide to step in to tell her that she is bothering the employees. Sango wonders who is interrupting her and recognizes Liko and Roy. They recognize her too and seem on guard, but Liko decides to pretend she doesn't know who she is, so she addresses her as Sandwich (she is being polite about it too). They ask her why she is here, so she says she came for the limited sweets. Roy was about to tell her that they were delicious but Liko stops him from doing so. This interaction was kind of nice, because I feel like they could easily be friends if they weren't enemies... Sango was surprised to see them (she didn't expect to see them there so she wasn't following them or anything) and easily tells them that she came for the sweets.

Murdock can tell Sango is from the Explorers and wonders if she is there to watch Liko.. he decides to step in and tells her they don't have the sweets she wants. Meanwhile, Kaede introduces herself (and Murdock says she is the owner of the shop and the Gym Leader), and knew Liko would be coming (so the Gym Leaders seem to know about the students taking the Terastal course). She suggests getting started but Sango interrupts them. She is still pissed and wants to battle too and let loose. Kaede tells her she can't battle both of them, so Sango says that she'll battle Liko and Kaede can battle whoever wins. Murdock tells her to calm down, but Sango tells him to shut up (and even calls him an old man ww girl has no respect). Really liked Sango's VA in this scene (Ootani Ikue usually voice characters more on the cute side, like magical girl mascots or even Pikachu, so it's interesting seeing her take on an antagonist character like Sango, it's a different range than the one I'm used to). Liko actually accepts Sango's challenge (which I liked because in a way, she is accepting Sango's angry feelings and is willing to confront her and "hear" her). Liko asks Kaede if she can use Terastal during the battle because she's never used it before so she wanted to try it at least once. Sango is offended that Liko considered her as a training dummy (I liked that she pointed it out because it was a bit insensitive of Liko to say that in front of Sango), but she is willing to take her on anyway. Kaede tells Liko that practice is important, but practice is different from a real battle. She eventually decides that Sango and Liko will be having a baking contest and she'll have them make cakes.

At Kaede's shop, both Liko and Sango are ready to start the contest. Dot wonders if Liko knows how to make a cake, and Murdock tells her that he taught her before so she should be fine (which is cute, because that means Liko probably asked Murdock to show her before, or maybe he suggested they bake together when they were still on the Brave Asagi). Liko is nervous because it's her first time making a cake by herself, but she wants to do her best with Nyarote. Meanwhile, Sango seems confused by the kitchen tools and isn't sure what to do with them... Liko and Nyarote make a matcha cake (Nyarote's favorite flavor), while Roy and the others watch over them and support them. On the other hand, Sango completely failed her cake and she is frustrated about it and blames Onigohri for not helping her. She freezes everything, and Kaede ends up scolding her (but she doesn't raise her voice, she is intimidating even without doing that). Kaede explains to Sango that sweets are like bug Pokemon and hold lots of power despite being small and that it takes great care to make them delicious. She tells her to come again another day. Sango seemed a bit overwhelmed by her and decides to leave.

I thought this scene was rather sad for Sango, and I really hope they'll explain later on what's the deal with her. Kaede had a right to scold her, but Sango being alone with no one supporting her and not knowing about kitchen tools raises some questions for me. I feel like she has a difficult time with authority figures in general and doesn't know how to ask for help? This was a situation where Sango needed help and guidance since she didn't know how to bake at all (and still tried anyway). I wonder what kind of environment Sango grew up in, because I feel like maybe people around her gave up on her because of her personality? She doesn't like sharing things, and we're taught from a young age to share things with others because that's a nice thing to do (like, kids sharing toys to play with each other etc). I really hope we get to see more of Liko and Sango interacting later on.

Anyway, Kaede tells Liko she will administer her basics test. She also encourages Liko and Nyarote to try her cake and Liko is pleased that it turned out delicious. Kaede praises Liko and explains to Liko that she should put her heart in anything she does, and makes her realize that she put her all in the contest without worrying about practicing first. Liko realizes she was overthinking things and is eager to start the battle, so they all go to the battlefield.

The battle itself was alright. I liked Murdock commenting on what happens (it shows his knowledge, and he has interesting insight to share). Basically, Liko had to be careful about getting too close or too far from her opponent because Kaede had strategies in both cases. Liko eventually focuses on the battle (by taking a deep breath.. I always like when she does that to compose herself) and uses Magical Leaf as a distraction and smokescreen to find the perfect timing to use Terastal (her Terastal phrase is "shine in full bloom"). Kaede gets into the battle and eventually uses Terastal as well (which turns her Normal Type Himeguma into Bug Type, which is super effective against Grass) and wins the battle. Liko apologizes to Nyarote for losing even though she tried her best. Liko passes her Basics Test despite losing the battle. Winning or losing doesn't matter in Terastal Course battles (this isn't a Gym battle, this is a Terastal course battle). Kaede wanted to see if Liko could put her heart in the battle and if she could be in sync with her partner. She was supposed to stop the battle after Liko used Terastal but couldn't help but want to enjoy the battle a bit more and go all out. She sends Liko a stamp confirming that she passed her basics test and encourages Liko to enjoy the here and now going forward.

The use of Gym Leaders so far is interesting and so is the fact that they have duties outside the Gym battles. I think it adds to the region and makes the Gym Leaders more invested as characters and give them more depth? The school offering courses like the Terastal one and working together with Gym Leaders and guiding trainers even if they aren't strictly into competition is good. It bothered me when they were just around to hand out badges and the competitive aspect, so I like that they get invested in all kinds of trainers (like Colza spontaneously deciding to test Roy back in HZ010 because he wanted to see if he had what it took to chase Rayquaza and wanted to encourage him was great, just like how Kabu trained both Liko and Roy because he wanted to push them further). I also like that winning battles isn't everything for this course (just like Kabu said) and that what matters is the experience and what the kids learn from it. It shows they still have room for growth, which is good.

Anyway, the last scene is with the kids camping at night. Roy goes on about Nyarote's battle and Terastal, even Dot admits that it was exciting. Liko thanks Nyarote (and Nyarote was staying by Terapagos' side while the latter was sleeping, which is cute, especially since she avoided Terapagos a lot before when she was jealous). Liko also hopes she'll be able to use Terastal better (I'm not sure how Terastal works exactly, or if it's possible to fail at using it for some reason, like not being in sync with your Pokemon?), while Roy gets fired up for his basics test (which will be against Colza, and I think he'll probably win the battle this time).

[dorylinae-supremacy]

BFOB Ramblings (spoilers)

Backyard full of bones is full of my little guys I love thinking about them.

I'm gonna put a break under this but in general its just me rambling about how it links back with the DSMP plot we know and it just kinda gives context to some stuff that'll happen later on!

Its very long and full of deranged ramblings.

Currently toying with the idea that Techno used to smoke around their teen years, something that drove Phil crazy, and after the events of cigarette box (ILYLTAIMCB) Wil just takes one of his coats (the trenchcoat) and runs away.

I brush on that more in the Fundy visit fic I'm working on dw but in general I think thats around the time that Wil starts smoking. He misses his brother and after his scent fades from the coat he starts smoking to try and fill that space.

Wil somehow evades SBI's capture and raises Fundy, eventually moving to the DSMP where Tommy finds him and does what little he can to mend the familys relationship.

Wil convinced himself that they wouldnt forgive him for having Fundy and just believes that constantly running is better than coming to them and being rejected. After a few weeks Tommy convinces him to send off a letter to Phil to show he's wrong and to Wilburs surprise his dad actually responds.

This is ofc all an elaborate plot to yoink him back and Phil (and Techno) are both incredibly furious about Wil running and Fundy's existance but they can forgive him once they have him back. Tommy is probably messaging Phil to keep mellow so that Wil doesnt get spooked and it actually works for a while before Wil goes into his ravine arc.

That was enough for Techno to finally have an excuse to join the server and thus the ravine. Him and Wil do repair their relationship a little but Techno is distant as a punishment and it only damaged Wils mental state even more (Tech is unaware of how bad it is) and things start spiralling.

The ravine is more full of family than Wils had in years but he's never felt lonelier and Technos distance only makes him feel even worse since despite everything he still relies on his brothers approval. Theyre so codependent its insane.

Techno does finally start spotting the signs but only when its far too late, sending off a letter to their dad to have him come and take care of Wil. Obviously at that point Wil is already laying the dynamite and everything is just building up.

Then theres the button room and Wil dies (I have a fic on that in th works too dw bbgs) and goes to limbo. I very much like to think that one of the main (secret) reasons that Techno destroyed L'manburg is because it was the only thing that remained of his brother.

If he cant have Wil then no one can. Phil shares the sentiment and so they both help blow everything up. This is where I get blurry with the DSMP so now we start to go a bit off the rails.

Stuff happens like normal after that, exile and then Tommy's recovery arc happen in the same spots and he gets yoinked up and fixed. I think Techno would just never leave him alone during this time, seeing the signs he missed in Wilbur and vowing to not let them slip past again.

Tommy cant do anything if Technos always watching him, after all.

Ghostbur is mulling around but I'm not sure how the others in this universe would feel about that. Tommy finds comfort in him and I think in a way Techno does too.

Phil feels incredibly guilty about the whole 'killing his son' thing so bedrock bros generally try and keep Ghostbur away from their dad by keeping the ghost in the cabin.

Honestly I think Techno would just feel very bittersweet about Ghostbur. Thats his brother who he loves but its a shell that barely even acts like him anymore. He's probably pretty indulgent of the ghosts whims based purely on the fact that he could never say no to Wil.

Then theres the butcher army and the execution. That stuff I think only drives Phil to get even darker and more possessive of the sons that he still has with him. It was probably during this that he was working out how to revive Wil.

Techno ofc doesnt die in the execution because of both the totem and the fact that he's practically a demigod due to Kristin. I like to think that Revivebur in limbo would get flashes of what Ghostbur sees and he ended up watching the execution. Just for extra angst and trauma.

Usual stuff after that, Phil gets yoinked home and Techno takes Quakitys eye. Fucked up dude probably keeps it in a jar. Anyway though they go back to destroy L'manburg again and Tommy tries to betray them and fuck off but he literally just gets dragged back by them.

It takes ages for them to have him settle but during that theyre working on revival so neither of them mind babysitting him. Tommy eventually falls into their way of thinking and half agrees with their view on things.

Wil is then revived and ILYLTS happens, draggng him back to his family in the Tundra where they all finally begin to heal (i.e make each other worse) and its dark fluff for ages.

Some time after that when Wils allowed out the house (has to bring one of his brothers with him) the Fundy visit happens and its basically just him trying to find closure and Phil responding 'kys' at every turn.

He's very meanza towards him but who wouldnt be tbh, hes practically a stranger and he tried to kill Techno so obviously he's not gonna be happy with him. Its also so he can try and isolate Wil away from other people in the SMP but thats just usual dark Phil shenanigans.

Dream ofc stays in prison in all this, if Techno were to go in there then Wil would probably beat the shit out of Quakity for 'tricking' his brother and Techno would most likely maul the dude that abused his baby brother.

[ithinkimightbenobody]

Three hours and fourteen minutes is what it takes

You know you're fucked when the pills you irresponsibly took to sleep doesn't work at the expected time, it's been three hours and I feel nothing, not even a single yawn, okay, here it is, not sure if reading the word summoned it or the little yawning emoji at the keyboard suggestions did, anyways I can't sleep and I came here to talk as if I have something to say.

Read the last post, didn't really relate, I guess things do change.

Read the one before it, and the "I'm right where you left me" hits again.

I mean, ten years of documented patterns and thoughts is quite interesting, between self compassion and self victimisation, I sit quietly wondering what to do. I'd want to know if this'll still exist ten years from now.

Once I said I want to be a doctor and here I am, a plastic surgeon?? Not bad after all, still thinking I must end up being something, still not enough, I'd get to that whenever I think I earn this title.

Once I said I fucked my relationship beyond repair, so I made sure I did that for real.

So is this a place for manifestation? Cause I don't mind starting to treat it that way, my Tumblr temple, where whatever the fuck I say will happen, where the mistakes repeat itself until I learn my lesson.

I got distracted midway writing this, not sure what I was going to say, and I do have second thoughts about posting this cause it doesn't sound as clever as I'd want it to be.

Just counting the minutes till the pills I took start working and I could finally sleep, cause guess what? I have work tomorrow, aren't you fucking proud.

The girl who used to bang her head against the headboard due to boredom - that'll do it, I'm posting - now and finally has something to do, yet it's not my priority, it's a source of money to be able to get fixed and cured from the demons that possess me forcing me to ruin my life and other's.

I don't have much to complain about at the moment, or to hate myself for, life is just a movie that keeps rolling while I'm trying to learn something from, yet I don't get to watch to learn.

Ten years. I'm getting a bit emotional, and a little dizzy, fucking finally.

I need to know the relationship between being drowsy and feeling calm and peaceful, I think it's called addiction.

[awaningwit]

I guess it's been a short while, although I've no reason to believe anyone has read or will read any of this. We're almost halfway through 2024, and I've been reflecting on my "progress" towards moving in the general direction of wellness, prompted by a few things but honestly it's rarely far from my mind.

In some ways it's been quite a good year, I've been enjoying hobbies I'd not engaged with in a while, continued painting mini's, branched out from making regular/tiger bread to making and maintaining a sourdough starter, which has, entirely to my surprise, yielded some reasonably successful loaves, I've even managed to get a handful of CBT sessions from a referral my GP made a long time ago. I've managed to find the motivation and energy to, in general, get more control over my life, the space I live in and try to establish good habits. It still feels very much like a chore, like something I do because I must and not something I get any pride or satisfaction from, but while it doesn't fill me with positive feedback, it does alleviate a small portion of the generalised shame, guilt and malaise I felt for years up until this point, and despite my nascent cynicism I know I have to accept that as a good change, that there's no switch to flick that will miraculously cast light on all the shadows and that this *is* what progress is.

I've played guitar, and found the money and energy to repair a couple of my first guitars which had fallen into disrepair, a hobby I'd really not engaged with properly in years, I'm still mostly revisiting things I could play before but I definitely feel more confident playing them, and I've picked up a few new things along the way that clearly represent growth within the space which is good.

I've been walking regularly up the hill to my parents' house and back to let the animals out, to drop bread and other stuff I've made off (it's the only way to ensure I stay in my dad's will, I joke, although as with a lot of comedy there's a nugget of truth at the core of it) and although it's only maybe 4000 steps, half of them are uphill which for some reason has always caused me undue discomfort, so again, that represents some progress, and being relied on by my parents is a welcome change, even if the tasks are typically incredibly minor, the feeling of uselessness they once instilled in me is being eroded slowly.

I've made a to-do list with repeating tasks to keep on top of stuff like regularly showering, taking the bins out, doing laundry, cleaning towels and bedsheets, hoovering and mopping the floors etc, and for the most part I've done a good job of sticking to it, there's occasional procrastination (sometimes for good reason, sometimes for no reason), which again, despite a lack of positive feedback, all represents reasonable forward progress.

The CBT was...not particularly helpful, within a few sessions the therapist was clearly just frustrated with me, which I understand, for a lot of people I'm sure it's revolutionary but I'm already well aware of the theory, so while I genuinely tried to engage with it and practice it, it just never really did much to help, she would seem aggrieved whenever she asked how my mood had been that week and I gave the same answer, and by session 5 she would largely just insist that I get diagnosed with autism in the hopes that the Integrated Autism Services could help me. That's fine, I'd like them to too, I suspect I'm on the spectrum (and every single medical professional I've ever met has suggested the same) but they're overstretched beyond belief and clearly my case doesn't warrant urgent attention, so that'll be another years long waiting room it seems.

In general, despite the progress, I mostly just ache, physically and mentally, every day I just ache deeply. My bones are tired, my mind is tired, it's better to feel this way and do the things I'm doing than it was to feel this way and not do the things, but it feels like a technical success, there's just no joy or pride or feeling of achievement. I know I'm harsh on myself, these things feel simple, they feel like the bare bare minimum, I don't feel comfortable celebrating them, but for me they should be worthy of celebrating because clearly they aren't the default for me for whatever reason...but the reality is I just feel like I'm awarding myself a participation medal for barely participating.

I can't find ways to meet people, I can't afford a car and I'm stuck where I am, I'm hoping the summer helps change that as maybe more stuff happens in the immediate locality, but at least for now that's definitely one of the biggest disappointments, I really try to find things to do, places to go, but I'm so astonishingly smothered by circumstance.

This has been far more rambling than I intended, but I guess the precis is; I'm doing some of the things I should've been doing the whole time because I know should be doing them, I'm trying, I'm not abjectly failing, but it doesn't feel like much of a success. It just...is. And that's both a good and a bad thing.

[a1reglazesblog]

3 Signs you Should Invest in Tub Refinishing

1.      Visible Damage

One of the biggest red flags that it's time to refinish your bathtub is when you start noticing visible signs of damage.

Cracks, chips, and scratches are some of the most common culprits. Even a tiny hairline crack can continue to spread over time.

Discoloration is another major sign of damage. You know that nice, pristine white finish your tub had when it was brand new? Well, after years of use, it can start to look dull and yellowed.

Rust, stubborn soap scum buildup, and hard water deposits can all contribute to this discoloration.

Finally, keep an eye out for any peeling or flaking of the tub's surface. Not only is this an eyesore, but it can also create a rough, porous texture that's nearly impossible to keep clean.

2.      Old and Outdated Style

Even if your tub is still in decent shape, its age alone could be reason enough for refinishing. After all, tubs definitely weren't made to last forever!

Think about how long you've been soaking in that thing. 10 years? 20? Maybe it's been around since your parents' groovy bathroom renovation in the 70s? If that's the case, that vintage avocado green color probably isn't doing your modern bathroom any favors these days.

Styles and tastes change over the decades, but old bathtubs tend to stick around way past their prime. What was once the height of fashion can quickly start to look outdated, and worn out.

Even if the actual tub material is still in decent shape, the finish can take a beating over the years. Constant use, and cleaning products can cause that glossy coating to lose its luster.

That's where tub refinishing comes in to save the day! You can even choose a fresh new color that breathes new life into your bathroom.  Talk about a glow-up!

3.      Aesthetic Appeal

Okay, let's be honest here - at the end of the day, we all want our bathrooms to look fresh and inviting. 

Reglazing isn’t just about repairing some funky old tub. It’s your chance to completely transform and customize the look and vibe of your sacred bathing zone!

With tub refinishing, you get to choose from a rainbow of color options that'll let your creative side go wild. Want to make a bold statement with a deep, dramatic shade? Feeling' something bright and airy instead? A crisp white or soothing aqua blue is right up your alley. The design possibilities are endless!

Bottom Line

Tub refinishing could be the perfect solution to revamp your bathroom on a reasonable budget. With its mix of customization, and long-lasting results, it's definitely an investment worth considering.

[frogsandfries]

I feel like I need more than two days off every week, especially with this schedule. I am having such a difficult time adjusting to this new schedule. I think it's the fact that they changed it so close to daylight savings. I'm pretty sure I've never changed schedules around DST--and never while working from home.

Also, I think a certain possession of mine is definitely in need of emergency replacement. It finally met its end after almost five years, which is a rather respectable life for a piece of cheap Chinese manufacturing. Urrrggggghhhhhh!!!!

Anyway, I feel like crap. I think not leaving the house when I wanted to because I couldn't think of where I wanted to go was a bad decision. I just had to do some housekeeping and I knew I was going to want a nap. Then they're supposed to do this inspection thing.......

You wouldn't believe the giant wad of hair, and all the dust, there was SO. MUCH. like, I don't know if it was like........ somehow the cat litter?? Or just.... desert dust? Ewwwwww what if the previous resident just vacuumed and the carpet didn't get wet cleaned?

Tomorrow I have to get the litter vacuumed up. Vacuuming seems like one of those things, like when you're living in apartment, there just Is a Proper Time of Day, to vacuum, and in taking a nap today, I missed the window to vacuum the litter.

I wonder, if we'd had this vacuum--a vacuum that isn't in need of repairs that'll never happen--how much filth would be in that carpet, given the ex wore their shoes inside. Heathen.

Anyway, the Tumblr book for my 2012 posts is starting to get into November, and first, Canva is letting me add way more pictures than I thought I'd be able to, which means, second, that this book is a ton bigger than I'd expected--and that's before the additional, minimum five, pages that I'll need to add once I get everything resized and moved around. That also means I'll probably also need to re-size my expectations. I wasn't assuming I'd have to step up my expectations to at least two books per year, but perhaps even three. Like, it was a vague possibility before, but now I'm reassessing my estimate to possibly three books per year--three respectably thick tomes, possibly hard-cover big. I'm also rethinking my color choices for my covers, to expand the color options. Incidentally and kind of off to the side, I'm also thinking of including my photo archive into this retrospective. However, the photo books are going to be 8×11. They cannot be any smaller.

I broke off of that for a while, put more pages into the Canva project for Lapsarian. Not many, maybe a couple chapters before I moved from that to fiddling with the mug. I think part of what makes this Stosphia Tumblr retrospective hard is, partly all the cringe, but also, that twenty-year-old had a really hard time. Like. Damn.

I've always had a hard life, but if I'd blogged about it into the internet from the time I was twelve, I maybe wouldn't be able to minimize that if I ever turned to face it from the future. It's probably better that I didn't start preserving my life like this until I was about twenty, when I was finally starting to become aware of it and also, when I started to move away from the locust of the pain.

Like, this was so much. The only way to get over it and get through it was to just...... minimize and forget.

Anyway, facing that, facing past me is a lot and it's kinda hard.

[trentonnnoz322]

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But regardless of whether I just carry mine close to my dwelling, it still places a smile on my encounter! Each and every time I unzip a reproduction bag, It can be like taking a action back again in time.​ These baggage just make me sense so confident and stylish.​

What do you believe? Have you ever ever experimented with a reproduction bag?

I completely adore it when I find a smooth, classy and certainly one of a kind fake bag! It is just which i know deep down inside of that it is not the true offer, nevertheless it even now appears to be fairly magnificent.​ Now, before I plunge too deep into this topic, allow me to just admit the fact that some pretend baggage appear to be They can be reliable originals, while some.​.​.​ not a lot! That's why it is vital to buy from trustworthy sellers.​

It truly is like a big gamble obviously! You must be seriously mindful and know your stuff in advance of getting any pretend bag.​ Otherwise, you would possibly find yourself having ripped off or with something which seems to be very little like the real factor.​ I don't forget The very first time I purchased a faux bag, it looked genuinely inexpensive and didn't even feature the proper lock and keys.​ Fortuitously, I used to be able to return it, right before it had been as well late!

Now, when you wanna go ahead and take Secure route, you will discover selected signals and characteristics that will let you establish whether or not a bag is real.​ Look for the logo's model, variety of fabric used, stitching details, and of course, the price.​

Also, if it seems as well great to become true, it most certainly is.​ For instance, In case the deal is waaay way too affordable, then it's time to stroll away.​ Faux luggage are focus on of fraud and frauds, in addition they do not come with warranties or authenticity warranty.​

An additional detail I often do would be to read assessments and Examine responses from all those who have acquired the bag in advance of.​ This can be one of the best approaches in order to avoid buying a bogus.​ As well as, It's also possible to go on the web and Review the legitimate and bogus layout.​

In the long run, if you still decide to acquire any bogus bag, just know they appear in numerous designs, dimensions, and characteristics.​ I've purchased some very good pretend luggage, and Even though they aren't prime notch or the real offer, they however look stylish and stylish.​ And, it's also a fantastic technique for accessing designer makes without the need of spending a buck.​

So, if you're looking for a high quality and special bag, you may generally take into consideration purchasing a faux.​ Just make sure to Test the small print and do sufficient analysis prior to deciding to make your obtain.​ That way, you'll find an ideal bag at the best price tag.​

And it would not matter that it is not the actual detail.​ Phony bags are in this article to stay!

On the subject of deciding on the suitable faux bag for me, I like going for traditional and timeless layouts.​ They are more likely to look like an reliable unique and can be utilized for lengthier.​ If you're going to rock a fake bag, then Why don't you go with a design that is definitely timeless?

And I must say, fake bags Really don't always need to come in uninteresting shades or layouts.​ You'll be able to go outrageous and purchase bags in vibrant and Daring hues, with furry information, and modern day and eye catching models.​ The chances are truly limitless, so It really is fairly enjoyable to investigate different designs, measurements, and supplies.​

One more detail I really adore about pretend luggage is you could get premium quality types without breaking the financial institution.​ Generally, I search for fake leather-based baggage since They are really premium quality and don't require A lot upkeep.​

But my all's time preferred has bought to generally be a faux designer bag.​ I come to feel like they make me feel so sassy and trendy.​ But, they do have sure pitfalls as These are conveniently specific by counterfeiters and frauds.​ That's why It really is truly vital to make sure that the bag you will be receiving is of good quality and is particularly from a reliable seller.​

At the conclusion of the day, irrespective of whether you buy a real or fake bag shouldn't issue as long as you are investing in a little something you're keen on and can really use.​ So let us just Opt for it and acquire These elegant and vibrant fake bags!