#oh and happy turkey day this is a scheduled post

[i-rate-horse-games]

howrse is a web browser and app horse game. and it is complicated!. I played it as a kid but I only really fed my horse and couldn't figure out how to do anything else. it's a bit grindy, but it's complex. there's breeding. there's genetics! but a lot of things require items that you have to either be very patient for or spend money (highly don't recommend on principle). however a lot of things are gifted to you for completing the tutorial! it has events like jumping and dressage, but they're things that you sign your horse up for and then await the results, not a flash game. you board your horse in equestrian centers run by other players! I remember when I ran a tiny one, and my favorite part was repurposing horse droppings for farming. if you get a golden apple, you can put art by a player as your horse art, and there are some incredible ones out there!

the tutorial took me 20 minutes and gave me 3 horses and several other things.

you feed and train your horses daily, then put them to bed once their own day is out of time and they're tired. if you have aging points, you can skip ahead to their next day.

there's breeding and complex genetics that the tutorial barely touched on! there's stats! there's races and bunches of events! there's western and classical! there's stable management! there's field management, where you can leave some fallow for a season and use others for other things! there's forums! you have a mailbox! there's horse trading and selling! there's a black market!

there's good art!

i feel like people who like neopets but wish it were harder would like howrse.

largely the gameplay is clicking on things and thinking and probably doing math if you're good at it, but there are just so many details! there's a whole community in this website!

i rate howrse 5 stars out of 5!

edit: they deleted my account after 6 months of inactivity with no restoration possible. demoting to 4 stars

★★★★☆

there is no music and it has a lot of reading, but it's just a different type of horse game entirely!

[goggles-mcgee]

i’m really loving the Wish me Away au idea! Would you be up to writing about what the batfam does after seeing mari’s reaction to emilie and adrien?

Like an actually little drabble? Yeah sure! It'll be based off the headcanons from this post -> 👶

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤♡◇♧▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Bruce couldn't remember having so much fun, he always loved to brag about his kids and show them off at work, but it was a little hard when it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day' and most of your kids worked with you. That's why he was so happy bringing little Marietta with him to Wayne Enterprises, he also brought Damian but Damian had wandered off to see what Dick did since, and he quotes, "I know everything about you father. If I am to be your successor it is only natural I familiarize myself with your work. I believe it would be beneficial for me to oversee Grayson's work ethic."

Honestly, Damian could have just said he wanted to see what Dick did but that was just part of Damian's charm. Before he had left, Damian had let Marietta grab his finger and give it a little shake which delighted her, if Bruce was not mistaken, Damian had even smiled before he said bye to the both of them. The boy had really grown to love Mari and Bruce could not be more proud of his son. Though, he had to admit, all of his children were absolutely enamored with the baby, not to say he wasn't, but Lord have mercy on anyone who dared mess with his baby girl. She would have an army behind her of overprotective brothers and sisters, and father and mother, and grandfather, and cow...and turkey...and dogs...and cats...and dragon bat....and semi-god things that called themselves kwamis...and two very very powerful almost godlike godparents (Diana and Clark.) Now Bruce didn't like to think about it but he did also have to add Mari's....friends to that list... i.e. some of his rogues, which yes was fucking bizarre beyond all reason, but some had even cut back on crime because of their friendship with his little mini-hero so that was a plus. Right?

Well that was a thought for another day, now he got to take his little girl around and take her into meetings, which was certainly going to be interesting, but Marietta always seemed interested in watching him work so he wasn't too worried. He packed her plenty of snacks along with her lunch that Alfred made, he made sure to pack her favorite toys and a variety of coloring books and markers and crayons. And of course he remembered to pack cookies for Tikki who was riding in the hood of Marietta's dress. Plus he made sure to pack a little first aid kid just in case, also another sweater for Marietta in case she got cold.

He liked to be prepared. Sue him.

First meeting of the day was with a Ms. Graham de Vanily. If his memory served right this was Emilie and not Amelie who he had spoken with in the past. Not for the first time he had to wonder what possessed their parents to name the identical twin sisters Emilie and Amelie, but apparently she had brought along her son as well so that made this meeting a little less awkward. He adjusted his hold on Marietta before he continued on his walk to his office where he would be meeting Ms. Emilie, he had hoped to show his daughter around more when they had arrived but he had actually forgotten about this particular meeting and so hadn't rescheduled it to a time when he would hand over Marietta to one of her brother's since they deemed it "unfair" that only he got to show her his work.

Honestly his boys. They were wonderful but boy did they get jealous of one another if Marietta gave one more attention than the other. He fondly remembered one family game night where all the boys were asking who Mari's favorite brother is and she had just been laughing at all the attention not really understanding and it was the first time Bruce had witnessed Damian giving someone a smile and opening his arms for a hug. Of course he had done it behind all his siblings backs and only Alfred and Bruce himself had seen it. It was a sight to see everyone's face when Mari giggled out a, "Dami!", and ran over to him. When everyone turned around he was back to his stoic face but he was hugging Marietta and she was snuggling herself against him but as he looked at everyone he gave them a small smirk. There was an uproar, a demand for a retest, but Damian wouldn’t have it and it had been one of the most chaotic nights in the Manor. Selina had been very entertained especially when Marietta somehow made her way out of the gaggle of children and waddled over to her and had climbed in her lap very clumsily before plopping herself down and making herself comfortable, almost like a cat Bruce had thought, before smiling up at Selina. Selina had just turned to Bruce and said in a complete monotone voice, “I would die for this child.” 

Him and Selina hadn't tied the knot yet so to say, nor had he proposed. They were trying their hand at dating again but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his mind conjured up images of tuxedos, lace, friends and family, cakes and kisses, and rings and vows exchanged, when his baby girl, his little Marietta looked up at Selina and called her Maman. Bruce wondered if she ever shared his thoughts, he almost convinced himself she did whenever he saw her melt and practically purr when Mari, or as Selina liked to call her, Kitten, would call her Maman. He could see the love in the older woman's eyes and he had no doubt in his heart that this time, they would work out, this time they would get their 'happily ever after' or whatever came close to it.

He was ripped from his thought when he heard his baby girl giggle at something Lucius said.

"Morning Lucius."

"And good morning to you Mr. Wayne. I see you brought the little one."

"Yes. I promised I would bring her but I must admit, the meeting with Ms. Graham de Vanily slipped my mind." Bruce sighed out.

"I guessed as much. Well if you want, I can watch the Little Wayne while you have your meeting." Lucius offered, of course Bruce trusted him to watch Marietta seeing as the older man also practically adopted Mari at first sight. He was basically another grandfather to her.

"Gampa Fox!" Marietta began before dissolving into her baby babble. She was getting very good at speaking. Honestly she was very smart for a two year old.

"That's okay Lucius, I want to bring her in. Besides if her brothers spot her with you they wouldn't hesitate to snatch her up before their scheduled times. If Ms. Graham de Vanily has a problem with it I will insist on a reschedule. It's not everyday I get some one on one time with Marietta." Bruce admitted.

"You know one day someone is going to say no to you despite your good looks, money and reputation. Fine. Head on in, our guest is already here, which by the way, I don't think she will mind Mari seeing as she brought her own son to this meeting." Lucius sighed but he gave Mari a little wave and pointed Bruce to one of the smaller meeting rooms they had in Wayne Enterprises.

"Aww Lucius you think I'm good looking?"

"Go."

"Yes sir." Bruce chuckled out with a brief wave before he made his way over to the meeting room Lucius had pointed to and gently rapped his knuckled on the outside door despite the room being visible from outside because of the large windows. He heard a feminine voice call out from inside so he entered,

“Remember your manners Marietta and if you need anything don’t be shy.” Bruce told his daughter softly as they walked in, he chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as he caught sight of the blonde woman he put on his best business smile. “Ah, Ms. Graham de Vanily, so sorry to keep you waiting. I must admit that this meeting slipped my mind.”

“No worries Mr. Wayne, I don’t believe this will be long. I see you brought your daughter. I brought my son! Adrien say hi.” Ms. Graham de Vanily light-heartedly scolded her son and tapped his shoulder. When Bruce took his seat and placed Marietta on his lap he finally got a good look at them both. Both mother and son were blond, her son, Adrien was a teenager, from the looks of it he was 16 maybe even 17. When his mother tapped him on the shoulder he sat up straighter than when he was slouching so obviously he didn’t want to come. So why bring him then? 

“Hello Mr. Wayne, it’s an honor to meet you.” Adrien greeted him with a model smile, he had seen enough to spot them from the real deal.

“Likewise. Marietta, can you say ‘hello’ to our guests?” Bruce asked gently down to his daughter who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she would already saying ‘hi’ and waving, maybe even trying to get a high five or hand shake. Though now she was hiding her face in his chest and hugging her backpack to her, she made a small noise like a whimper and Bruce was absolutely dumbfounded. His daughter had never acted like this before, not even with Joker for crying out loud yet here she was trembling and trying to hide herself in his arms. He didn’t know what was going on but his daughter was scared so he scooped her up and held her closer to him but she still tried to pull herself closer. Finally Bruce caught sight of Tikki inside Marietta’s open backpack and saw her antennae-like things pulled back and her eyes narrowed as the kwami glared at Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son, if he wasn’t mistaken she was even glowing a faint red especially as she stared at Adrien. Bruce didn’t understand what was causing these reactions but he did know one thing, he wasn’t going to make Marietta sit there.

“I apologize. She’s not normally like this, I think it would be best if I take her to one of her brothers if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh...no worries at all. I’m sorry if we scared her somehow.” The woman actually sounded genuine but Bruce wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with how her son actually looked at his daughter for the first time that they walked in there.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but it will probably be best to take her to one of her brothers that way we can get through this meeting. I will be fast.” With that he was out the room and speedwalking down the hall over to Lucius’s office. “I don’t have time to explain but Marietta was acting strange around Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son and Tikki as well. Can you take her to one of her brothers please? Just inform me who and I will go pick her up after the meeting.”

Lucius on his part did his best not to ask questions knowing Bruce didn’t have the time but he did raise a brow that told Bruce he would be answering those unasked questions later. “Of course. I’ll go see what Dick and Damian are up to.”

“Thank you Lucius.” Bruce said sincerely before he made his way back to his meeting. He had questions too and they were all for Tikki, but there would be time for that later, now it was time for business.

__________________________________________

The meeting passed and all Bruce could think about was getting to Marietta. He checked his texts from Lucius that informed him that he did indeed leave Mari with Dick and Damian so he made his way over to the central security room knowing that’s where Dick would most likely be. When he got there he was relieved to see his baby girl laughing and playing with Dick while Damian sat on a chair watching, as he walked in the two boys stood up swiftly with Dick scooping up Marietta and angling her away from the door but when they saw it was him they relaxed. “Father, Lucius told us nothing, what happened?” Damian demanded.

“I’m not sure myself. Marietta started acting scared when we got in the meeting room with Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son Adrien.” Bruce answered.

“NO!” They all stared at Marietta in shock when she screamed and tried to hide herself in Dick’s chest, then they all stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Etta what’s wrong?” Dick asked softly.

“No Adrien! No!” Marietta cried out. 

The air grew cold. Bruce could hear his son’s gasp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he did as well. “ طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish), you’re safe. This Adrien won’t harm you I promise.” Damian cooed to Marietta.

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar).” Mari cried out wetly as she reached her hands out for him and he of course took her out of Dick’s arms and held her. 

“Tikki. Explain...please.” Bruce pleaded.

Tikki flew out of Mari’s backpack and sadly looked over at the girl before flying over to her and kissing the top of her head before flying and landing on Dick’s desk. “It’s...They are from her old life. Ad- He was her former partner...the one who wished her away. That woman shouldn’t be alive.” 

“He was the one to betray her?” Damian asked, his voice full of ice and steel. “Father I will be needing my swords. All of them.”

“Damian. No.”

“What do you mean no?” His son asked indignantly.

“Yeah what do you mean no?” Tikki asked with a tilt of her head, Bruce glared at her, she knew what she was doing.

“Tikki what do you mean that woman shouldn’t be alive?” Dick asked.

“Simply that. She was a corpse. No soul. Haw-Gab- The villain Mari had to face before, she was his wife. He wished for her life.” Tikki explained as though it made total sense to all of them.

“Yeaaaaah, you’re going to need to expand on that.” Dick said which made Tikki frown in confusion.

“While I do agree with that, maybe we should wait until we are at home to continue this conversation. You boys know how Tim and Jason will be if they aren’t informed about what happened. You boys tell them and I’ll take Marietta. We will continue on with our day, but if you see either of them lingering here alert me. I don’t want Marietta to have to interact with them at all if we can help it.” Bruce said as he gently took Marietta from Damian who looked like he wanted to do anything but give his little sister to his father.

“If I see them I have a right to defend Marietta.” Damian stated. “You can’t stop me.”

“Damian.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, at least he doesn’t have a sword on him.” Dick chuckled.

“Who said I didn’t? Was it Todd?” 

Bruce needed a break. Bruce questioned why he had so many kids not for the first time in his life. Bruce decided to ignore the fact his child admitted to having a sword somewhere on him and just did as he said he was going to do, continue his day with his daughter and if he held her a little closer to him than usual? Well it couldn’t be helped. 

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♧◇♡♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

I know it’s not like the reactions yet but I am in the process of writing Wish Me Away so take this! XD

طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish): Baby Bat

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar): Big Brother

[breitzbachbea]

Turkgre, turkfra, turkport? 👀❤

My blog title is the agenda, as we say in German

Send me a ship & I'll rate it

TurkGre

ew / nonono / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / MY HEART

I had such an intense breakdown over writing the emotional lynchpin for my TurGre story on wednesday that it threw off my entire schedule for the rest of the day. Yesterday I had tears in my eyes again cuz I reread the end of sadlygrove's "Lifetimes". Your honour, I LOVE THEM WHY CAN'T THE KIDS BE HAPPY, I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY. Manifesting the Neighbour AU where Sadık goes out for a coffee with Hera, Miche and their Professor and the entire time, Hera just stares fondly at his oaf while Sadık and the Professor find common ground by talking about Ancient Digging Sites in Anatolia. Then Hera throws in something that he thinks Sadık is wrong about, they squabble as politely as they can in front of the Prof. and you just know they'll talk about this shit before they kiss each other goodnight this evening and sleep in each other's arms. Im sorry what were we talking about -

TurkFra

ew / nonono / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / MY HEART

I think they're hot and that they get along quite well, but there is just something about them that wouldn't mesh long term. At least I dunno if I'd be sooo invested in longterm TurFra, even though I am sure someone else can pull it off. They can cook together! Talk about fashion! Coffee! Cockily flirt with one another to the point everyone else around them is sick! I also still have an LFLS Team Turkey & Team France ft. François' mom lying around which I SHOULD post...

Turkport

ew / nonono / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / MY HEART

Oh, I've seen that around and heard about it (I know it was implied in one of your FrUK/EngPort fics). I'm kind of entertaining the idea, because I know jack shit about Portugal or Iberian history in General (not that much better with Spain) and it'd be interesting. Also, it'd piss Antonio off and I love messing with him. Can't wait already to make him all pouty and mimimimi about that one time in LFLS where Arthur and Lovino work together briefly to get rid of Harry & Michele, who've been nothing but a giant pain in the arse for the past two years. Honestly, I've actually been thinking about making a Team Portugal for LFLS to give the Spaniards a bit more to do and also... the English deserve some friends... love the idea of past EngPort when they were teens/tweens... Always had a soft spot for NedPort... But if I'll make yet more OCs after I JUST made Norwegians, Danish and basically Egyptians, Jani WILL strangle me. Rightfully so.

(I tend to not read Fanfic or not read Fanfic out of my comfort zone if I do, so my way to explore these ships is mostly to do it myself... But if I will make me some Portuguese, I WILL use your fanfics and the one of your friends as inspiration for him, I know that much FOR SURE).

[vventure]

Noted

Pairing: Yaoyorozu Momo x f!reader

Genre: domestic!AU, Fluff, tiny bit of Angst

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None

Summary: Life with a pro-hero means less time together, but Momo always has time to leave you her thoughts before she goes on patrol.

A/N: Happy Birthday, @writeiolite​ / @seijoh​ !!! Io, it has been such a pleasure to get you know you!! I know I don’t tell you a lot but I really appreciate you and I love chatting with you even if it’s just through discord and comments in fics. You always have a way of brightening up a room. I hope your birthday is as amazing as you are, I love you so very much! I didn’t really proof read this so sdkflksdf The graphics at the end were created by me, so please don’t judge them too harshly. My handwriting is TRASH.

“If I know what love is, it is because of you.” -Hermann Hesse

Trilling high notes emitting from your phone pierced your sleeping ears, causing you to turn into the warmth beside you as morning light dispelled the darkness behind your once shut eyelids. Momo’s inky hair marred the surface of her pure white pillow as she slept through your alarm; all sounds were muted through her ear plugs, and her eyes were guarded from the daylight by a black mask with kitten ears on it.

As much as you’d love to lay forever in the plush clouds of the large bed, being late to work wasn’t ideal. Propping yourself up on your arm, you leaned over your girlfriend's slumbering form, taking in the way that her plush pink lips moved as though she were speaking with someone in her dream. 

When you’d first started living together she often had nightmares: thrashing and screaming before her eyes snapped open to the reality of the dark bedroom and your hands gripping her firmly in an effort to ground her. It seemed now that the nightmares were becoming few and far between and you hoped that it was your comfort that made it so.

The scent of her expensive floral conditioner dancing along your senses as you ghosted a wispy kiss along her smooth cheekbone before rolling out of bed for the day. 

“I love you,” you voiced to her blocked senses. 

She’d been working evening patrols for nearly a month and it was difficult to adapt to rarely seeing her in your shared apartment while awake. Work was the typical 9-5 on your part, so moments shared in the past such as eating takeout at the dining room table or watching your favorite k dramas before falling asleep in her lap were on-hold until further notice. 

You hoped her schedule would change soon and things would go back to how they used to be. Her absence from your life was taking a toll and you didn’t particularly want to tell her in fears of putting more of a burden on her heavily laden shoulders. You could deal with this on your own, right?

--

When Momo woke that afternoon she let out a heavy sigh to the empty bed space beside her, running her fingers along the now-cool fabric where you always lay. She began her morning routine, going through the motions of brushing her teeth and hair, slipping on her hero costume, and having a bite to eat. 

Her mind was occupied with thoughts of your tittering laugh through the capacious apartment and the way that you’d fiddle with your hair whenever you talked to her. She thought about how you insisted on going for walks in the evening for exercise when she knew it was a ploy to get her to buy you your favorite flavor of boba tea. Thoughts of your supple skin under her roaming hands as you basked in the faint glow of the copious candles in your bedroom kept her company as she sipped her coffee. 

A feeling of happiness bubbled suddenly in her chest when she thought about the news she’d received the day, and she imagined your face brightening as she told you. 

You were still at the forefront of her mind as she slipped through the front door, neglecting a very important part of her morning routine.

--

*It should be here*, you thought to yourself as you gaped at the fridge in confusion. 

Did she forget today? Probably. But what if she just didn’t want to do it anymore? What if this was too much of a hassle for her and this was her way of stopping it: cold turkey.

Your heart plummeted to your stomach as your eyes tracked along the front of the fridge slowly once more, taking in the usual decorations magnetized to its surface.

A picture from New Years of you kissing in your coordinated dresses, a magnet from the trip to Seoul you’d convinced her to go on with you after graduating from UA, the menu from your favorite take-out place, and no post-it note.

The long nights away patrolling must have been the catalyst for this. Momo never missed her daily post-it note to you ever since you’d started dating back in the final year of high school. It began with a simple pink post-it with the word “Hey” on it accompanied by a cheery smiley face on your desk when you arrived at your first class of the day one morning. You’d caught a glimpse of her leaving the general studies classroom that day but didn’t question it at first. 

The notes continued to appear until you finally confronted her with a small smile on your face and the latest note adhered to your pointer finger. It was a lop-sided kitty-cat, her number hastily scribbled onto the bottom in pencil.

Pressing your hand to your chest, you walked to the bedroom and pulled the fattened black sketchbook from its habitat in your bedside table before plopping into the middle of the bed and cracking it open. 

There they were, all of the sticky-notes she’d ever given you together in order. Your mind was moving through scenarios at a million miles a minute as you stared down at the colored papers, committing your relationship to memory before your eyes failed you and you fell asleep.

--

Tingles running down your spine pulled you from sleep, your eyes landing on Momo’s angelic face, her black hair hanging in a halo around the both of you. Your head was in her lap and she was running her finger nails over your scalp soothingly to wake you gently. 

“Hello, [Y/n],” she said, her lips quirking into a smile.

“Oh, hi,” you replied. Sitting up from her lap, you turned to face her. That’s when you noticed that she had your book of notes sitting next to her on the duvet. She placed a well-manicured hand upon it.

“I...didn’t know you kept them all. I honestly thought that you threw them out once you read them. I didn’t know that they meant enough to you to keep,” she spoke softly.

“Of course they do,” you said, reaching out to place your palm over her smooth knuckles. “They’re from you. But I understand that it’s probably too much-”

“I forgot your note today,” she cut you off. “My mind was elsewhere all morning, but I have it if you’ll still accept it.”

Much like the day you held the note with the cat out to her, she held a pink post-it out on her pointer finger to you. All the dire thoughts you’d been nursing after work disappeared as you plucked the note from her finger, absorbing the words there.

“Really?” Your surprised voice came out a little thickly as happy tears pooled in your eyes.

“Really,” she said as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your lips.

You could deal with life on your own, but it was better with her.

[tobin-heaths]

Forever 

request: Tobin,christen and alex going to a ring store cause Tobin is going to ask r to marry her on christmas

pairing: Tobin Heath x Reader

words: 1244

"Babe? Should I do the dishes now or leave them for tomorrow?" You called out of the kitchen.

Tobin and you were spending Christmas together this year, all alone, visiting your families the next day.

It was her idea and you gladly accepted it. Having time for yourself was rare the past half year after everything that happened with the World Cup.

There was nothing more relaxing than being home watching some movies with the person you loved most, a fire burning in the background while it snowed outside.

"Babe?" You called again not receiving any answer from your girlfriend, getting a little worried.

Tobin told you she would set up the TV for some more cute Christmas movies while you got the plates and food back into the kitchen.

You just enjoyed the best Christmas dinner on earth, Tobin and you cooking it together dancing around the kitchen to hits like 'Last Christmas' or 'All I want for Christmas is you'.

Tobin took care of the roasted Turkey and gravy while you worked on the mashed potatoes and vegetables.

"Tobin, why aren't you answering?" You threw the dish cloth into the sink and hurried over to the living room.

The first thing you noticed was the beautiful Christmas tree shining bright together with countless lit candles all over the room.

Your mouth opened in shock and amazement. Still, Tobin was nowhere to be seen.

"Babe, what's going on? Where are you?" Suddenly you heard footsteps drawing closer from behind you.

You whirled around and found Tobin kneeling in front of you, a big smile on her face holding a small black box.

"Oh my god, Tobin!" You felt like fainting, how could this moment be real? Tears started to gather in your eyes.

"Y/N Y/L/N, I've known you for a long time now and you never left my side. You were the one helping me along the way, always supporting me, cheering me up and kissing it better whenever I got hurt. You're my best friend and my lover, I couldn't ask for a better gift in life. I love you with all I am and I don't want to spend the rest of my life without you, so– Y/N, will you marry me?" She asked.

For a moment the world around you stood still, there was nothing else but that beautiful woman in front of you asking you to become her wife. The tears were now freely running down your cheeks.

"Yes! Yes! Oh my god, a thousand times yes! Oh god!" You yelled and jumped into her arms eagerly kissing her.

It was a messy kiss with your tears wetting her skin and lips as well. Tobin giggled as she held your waist with one arm.

"Yes? It's a yes!" She said happily and opened the box. Inside laid the most beautiful ring you've ever seen.

One hand covered your mouth in shock as she slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly.

"Tobin this is unbelievable. This ring is gorgeous, wow! I love you so much!" Hugging her once again she easily lifted you up and twirled you around.

"I'm shaking, my goodness. I don't think any kind of Christmas gift could ever top yours from now on." You giggled, wiping a few tears away and looked at the ring.

The light from the candles made the diamond shine brilliantly. "It's a special one, I've had it made just for you." She spoke.

"Made just for me? Did anyone know about this though?" You raised your eyebrows.

Tobin laughed and pulled you into her lap as you sat down on the couch.

"Yes, Alex and Christen actually went with me once the ring was finished. They've kept it a secret, I'm impressed." While Tobin spoke you couldn't take your eyes off the ring.

"Tell me all about it, please." You begged and gave her a faint kiss on the lips.

"Alright."

2 months ago...

"Tobin!" Tobin looked up from her phone and saw Christen and Alex walking in her direction.

She put her phone back into her pocket and stood up to greet her friends.

"Guys, I'm so glad you could make it. I know the schedules are packed and busy but I really appreciate it." She said hugging both of them.

"You're sure about this? Does Y/N know about this?" Tobin nodded eagerly, she was always sure of everything she did, always planning everything way ahead.

"Absolutely 100 percent sure. I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her and no, she doesn't know about this. So please, don't let it slip to anyone. I want it to be a surprise." Alex grinned and Christen patted her shoulder.

"When do you plan on proposing?" Christen asked. They had started walking through the city of Portland searching for Tobin's jeweler.

"Thought about this for a long time but Christmas is coming up and she absolutely loves it. Guess I'll do it on Christmas." Her National teammates squealed in happiness and she felt herself blushing a little.

"Guys calm down, please." She laughed.

Arriving at the store they all went inside and took a good look at all kinds of jewelry. There were rings, earrings, necklaces, watches and so much more. Not to mention their prices.

"Good evening, ladies. Miss Heath, welcome back!" A man in his early 60's raised his voice from behind the counter.

"George, good to see you again. I'm here to pick up the ring." Tobin walked towards him, Christen following her while Alex decided to look at the watches some more.

"Ah, yes indeed. The ring is all ready and done. Excuse me while I get it." He said and disappeared into the back, returning shortly after with a small black box placing it in front of the Thorns' player.

Her fingers opened the box and gasped as she saw the ring for the first time. "Alex! Get over here! You're missing everything!" Christen scolded and waved her over with a glare.

"Oh my god! Y/N is so gonna love this!" Alex said and bent down to have a closer look at it.

"We measured the band to the exact size you told me and should fit perfectly. Its band is made of 18k white gold, simple without any extra stones, just like requested. Now to the stone. This brilliant round diamond weighs 3 carat and its clarity has a level of VS2. Color is graded to L. All in all it's the perfect engagement ring. Has it met your expectations, ma'am?" He explained, touching the ring with gloves and pointing everything out.

"It's perfect!" Tobin replied and turned to her friends. "What do you guys think? Would she like it?" She asked nervously.

"Tobin, this ring is gorgeous, only a fool wouldn't fall for it. And besides, you're coming with the package.. why would she ever say no?" Alex laughed and wiggled her eyebrows.

"Alex, it's no time for jokes. The ring is perfect, for sure she's going to love it! I'm proud of you, Tobin." Christen playfully rolled her eyes at Alex then hugged Tobin.

And that's how you ended up getting engaged to Tobin Heath. You had to pinch yourself several times to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Later in the evening a photo was posted to your Instagram, showing Tobin holding your hand, the ring the center of attention.

The caption read 'It's a yes!'. 

[sunsetinmyvein]

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Ten - It Took a Little While to Recognise

A/N - This chapter was heavily inspired by this tune.

By the time he walked off of the stage that night, her brain was mush. He really did seem to know how to push her buttons and the amount of effort that it had taken to not cave all day to his tormenting was starting to take its toll. She should just tell him. Just tell him that she was, indeed, into him and then she could go back to living a normal life without Matty hell bent on destroying what little remained of her willpower. Hell, maybe she would even get something out of that obnoxious boy in exchange. That might be nice. It would probably be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and sends her into a coma, but it would be nice until then. However, before she even had the chance to find Matty in the green room after the show, Ross informed her that he’d already gone back to the bus. And by the time they’d gotten back to the bus, celebrations of ending the tour were already in full swing and the man of the hour was being pulled in every which direction. It irritated her that by the time she was finally in a mental state to want to get it over with and just tell him, she couldn’t. But, for Matty, that was the whole intention. He had realised while he was on stage for the final show that his solution to not knowing what to do when she finally told him, was to not let the bet end when the tour did. If he could draw it out, he had a reason to draw out their time together. Even if the bet felt dumb at this point, it was his best reason to ask her to stay in his life. What excuse did he have once he didn’t have that? Nothing. And the thought of not getting to see her anymore stung a lot more than the thought of not winning the bet. So, this would have to do. He’d avoid her until they went back home and then play dumb about it. That sounded reasonable enough. Which left her ending up deciding to hang out with the other friends that she had made on tour for the rest of the night instead, much to her displeasure.

But just like that, tour was over. She’d survived. Matty hadn’t won the bet. She got her pay packet for the merch work that she had done. Her bags were packed. It was time to go home. The flight that she had to catch to get back home was leaving sooner than Matty’s was, which left her with the awkward situation of having to be the first to say goodbye. Most of her proper farewells with the band and crew had been exchanged last night at their closing party; that way she didn’t have to try and get around to seeing all of them before a mid-morning flight. But other than still being a bit bitter about not seeing much of Matty last night, she didn’t overly want to say goodbye either. Saying goodbye was hard. Especially to someone who you didn’t want to leave, but also didn’t want to admit to them that you didn’t want to leave them. It was literally as she was standing on the street, waiting for her taxi with her bags in hand that she finally realised she had no time left to continue putting it off.

“It, uh…” She turned to the boy beside her, trying desperately to find half-decent sounding words. Should she tell him now? It didn’t feel like the right time. There probably would’ve been a ‘right’ time last night if Matty wasn’t so annoyingly popular. But it was too late for that now.

  She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding as she finally just bit the bullet. “Thanks for inviting me out on tour. It was really fun.” She said, trying to give him a genuine smile despite finding the moment quite bittersweet.

“I’m really glad you came out. Was nice havin’ you here.” He nodded as he took a drag on his cigarette. There was a lot more that he wanted to say, but he needed more time to think on the most eloquent way to express those thoughts.

The silence hung between them for a moment. “So… um…” A deflated sigh was all she could muster as she watched her taxi roll up to the curb. “Guess this-”

“I’ll see you soon.” He interrupted, dropping his smoke onto the ground and extinguishing it with his shoe.

Will you? “Oh, okay. Cool.” She finished, unable to stop herself from grinning a little bit at the thought. “In which case, see you then.” She chuckled as she hugged him briefly. He hugged her back tightly, trying not to dwell on it too much. As he moved back, he flashed her a bright grin, before wishing her a safe flight and watching her cab drive away.

  It was difficult for Matty to stamp his progressively harder to ignore feelings into the dirt and just disregard everything until after she had left. But he felt that if he made this tour as final as it was about to be, then that’d be it for their friendship. And as much as he struggled to work out exactly what he wanted; he knew he definitely didn’t want that. So, he said his half-goodbye, packed his bags and flew home with his friends hoping that he could work through all of his messy thoughts in the comfort of his own home. Except, his thoughts only seemed to end up even more muddled as everything gradually came crashing down around him over the next week after arriving at home. He knew that he’d been giving a few mixed messages in their last 48 hours together, but despite that he had sort of expected to hear her from her a decent bit within the few days after they got home. What he hadn’t expected was radio silence. He’d received a few messages from her when she landed, confirming that she was at home safe and sound, and then nothing. No texts. No calls. No social media posts. Nothing. She had mysteriously dropped off the face of the planet. Even her last online times had been offline for so long that they no longer displayed anything. It wasn’t like her. Had he been wrong in hoping that their social withdrawal would be mutual? It was slightly easier to deal with the lack of company when he had been expecting it to drop off a bit, but it still wasn’t sitting great overall that he had been forced to give it up cold turkey. He didn’t want to say that he was worried about her per se, it was just very uncharacteristic and it had him on edge. He had to keep himself distracted. 

  So, he hung out with the band as much as he could, caught up with family, saw friends. Anything and everything he could think of to do now that he was back at home - he crammed into his schedule. But it was at night when his thoughts plagued him the worst. When his friends finally went to bed and he was left by himself, scrolling through his phone. What had he done wrong? It was after about six days of no contact that a photo had been put up on Instagram that she was tagged in. He frowned down at his phone as he opened it. It was a photo of her with some dude in a field somewhere. They were looking awfully… close. Matty inspected the photo carefully. They weren’t kissing, or hugging, or doing anything couple-y, but they were both clearly having lots of fun. Was this why she hadn’t spoken to him in days? Because she was off with some guy she was seeing? As soon as the thought entered in mind, he felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him. He clicked on the uploader’s profile; it was the guy that she was with. But his account didn’t exactly reveal who he was. It was just a few photos of various shows that he had been at, a heap of fancy beers and photos of some dog. Who was this guy? Was she dating him? Had she been dating him for a while? His mind quickly spiralled down the rabbit hole of endless questions as he stared at the photo.

  Where did he fuck it all up? He had thought he was doing fairly well. Things seemed to be falling into place and he felt like he was on the verge of getting her to actually admit her feelings for him. But… Wait… Did she have feelings for him? Was the reason she hadn’t told him because she actually didn’t? Surely not. He eyed the notebook sitting on his coffee table. More often than not what he wrote down in that was a lot more thoughtful than he felt it was at the time of writing. Maybe something he had written down would give him a clue. As he flicked through the book, he felt like maybe he could find the answers scrawled into the pages. Had he missed something? Was there something he wasn’t picking up on? But everything in it just seemed… happy. Was the photo just all in his head? Or were the last six months all in his head? He couldn’t really tell, and he didn’t exactly have her around to verify the answers right now. Normally she was very good at keeping him grounded so that he didn’t spiral out about things like this. But she wasn’t here. And she wasn’t talking to him. And the burning in his chest suggested that maybe this was why. He stood up and made his way into his kitchen, rifling through his cupboard. There was a bottle of cheap vodka sitting in the back of it somewhere, he knew it, and he needed something to numb this sinking feeling. He found the bottle, screwing the cap off and letting it fall to the floor as he took a swig of it. Really, nobody was to blame for this except himself. He supposed he was just the boy who cried wolf, wasn’t he? He kept dangling the carrot just out of reach. Kept stringing her along without any indication whether he was reeling that string in or going to cut it. Why should she believe that he was anything worth holding out for when he’d never actually proven it? As much as he liked to think he walked that fine line well, he just couldn’t seem to get it right. He’d taken too long to work out what he wanted and she’d finally given up. Fuck. He took another swig from the bottle. It felt like the vodka wasn’t working, he wanted to feel better but he just wasn’t feeling anything.

  * * *

  The door slowly clicked open as George turned the handle. He’d been trying to call Matty for the last hour and had no response, so he figured it would probably be best to check in on his friend. As he opened the front door, he spied the curly haired boy lying on his kitchen floor, next to a mostly empty bottle of vodka. “Hey Matty…” He started slowly. “What are you doing?” George asked carefully, taking a few apprehensive steps towards him.

Matty let out a long sigh before answering, “Moping.”

“About what?” He asked with an eyebrow raised as he pulled a chair over to sit near him. He grabbed his phone off of the floor and held it out to George, knowing full well that it would still be open on the picture. George looked at it for a few moments in silent contemplation before speaking, “Who is he?”

“Dunno.” He mumbled.

“Then how do you know it’s anything worth worrying about?” He asked as he locked it and handed it back.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He huffed, leaning up on his elbows to look at the drummer better. “I haven’t given her any reason to keep on waiting for me to sort my shit out. I’m just the asshole who can’t make up his damn mind. Surely she’s been able to find a guy in the time it’s taken her to work out that I’m a lost cause.” Matty scratched at his forearm as he spoke. George watched the movement carefully.

“You taken anything?” He asked bluntly.

“No. You’d already know if I had.” The more he spoke; the more George was able to hear the slur in Matty’s words. That bottle must’ve been full when he started. But it was better than the alternative. He picked it up, taking it into the kitchen and tipping the rest out. He certainly didn’t need any more hard liquor tonight.

  “Why don’t you just, y’know, ask her?” George questioned with a pointed look as he walked back over and stared down at his friend, deciding to skip over the self-deprecating comments. The silence hung heavy in the room.

“She hasn’t spoken to me in a few days.” He eventually admitted.

“What did you do?” He wanted to be mad that that was the first question George asked, but it was a pretty fair accusation to make. Matty had accidentally fucked up his fair share of relationships through his antics. He’d also fucked up plenty intentionally, as well.

“Nothing!” He said defensively. “I think.” He added with a frown. “I hope.” He said quietly as he ran his hands down his face.

“Well… it sounds like maybe you need to have a chat with her, and make sure you haven’t blown it somehow.” He pointed out. Matty just groaned loudly as he flopped back onto the floor. George nudged the frontman with his foot to get his attention. He waited until he was looking at him to speak, “And if you haven’t, you probably need to reconsider that bit about not having your mind made up. Because it seems pretty fuckin’ made up to me, mate.” Matty didn’t really seem to register the comment. The gears seemed to be turning behind his eyes, but it didn’t look like anything clicked into place. Maybe it would be a conversation better had in the morning. “But in the meantime, c’mon.” He held his hand out to help Matty up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  George took him to the bar down the street, forcing him to drink a glass of water between every drink and to eat the bowl of peanuts sitting on the table. As much as the conversation and company were nice, it didn’t fully pull Matty out of his thoughts. He felt like his mind was playing tricks on him. Surely everything couldn’t have just been in his head. He hadn’t felt this conflicted in a long time, and the last time he had, he had pretty unhealthy ways of getting his brain to shut up about it. The mildly healthier coping mechanisms that he had been relying on recently suddenly weren’t talking to him. Though, he never really told her anything about that, so he was the only one at fault for the lack of it now. He felt like if he told her how much he depended on her being around then it would make her realise that he wasn’t coping as well as everyone told him he was. Which might mean that she’d leave. Had he forgotten how to be alone? Maybe he should tell her. Maybe it would make her talk to him.

  Eventually he excused himself from the table, telling George that he was going to the bathroom. He stepped out through the back door of the bar, feeling the cold night air hit his face as he glanced around the alley. It was thankfully empty. Before he could think too much about it, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled her number. If he could just speak to her, she could fix this. He was dying to hear her voice. But as expected, there was no answer. It rang out and went to voicemail.

“I, uh…” He started thinking about what he wanted to say. He had a million things he wanted to tell her, but a million things wouldn’t fit in a voicemail message. And what did they matter? It didn’t matter how much he wished she was here, because she wasn’t here. She was never his, as much as he pretty much felt like it, so he really had no right to be so torn up about the thought of her leaving. And she didn’t have to be here, because her purpose in life wasn’t to look after this junkie wannabee musician. “Actually, don’t worry.” He slurred with a sigh. She didn’t have to deal with this, he didn’t have any right to dump his 2am drunken thoughts on her. “Goodnight. Never mind.” He hung up the phone, sliding it back into his pocket and pushing his way back into the bar for another drink.

  * * *

  The next day he woke up to a missed call less than half an hour old. Had she finally decided to talk to him? He frowned down at his phone, wondering why now and mulling it over for a few moments. Should he call back straight away? His mouth felt like ash, he had a splitting headache and he felt pretty nauseous, but those were all things that he could hide somewhat well through a phone conversation. After a few passing moments, he decided to call back. He had spent most of last night feeling like shit for being the jerk who kept stringing her along, he figured it was probably time to start showing some reciprocation. Assuming he still had the chance. It was a few rings before she picked it up.

  “Hey!” She answered enthusiastically. He winced at the instant reaction he had to hearing her voice. He forgot how much he missed this.

“Hi.” He replied, clearing his throat nervously, “How’re you?” He continued, trying to keep it as casual as he could manage.

“Yeah, good! Tired, though. The festival was really great but it’s such long days to work.” She answered.

“The…” He frowned as he played those words over in his head again. “The what?”

“The music festival. The one out in the country that I told you I was working this weekend. I didn’t have any reception out there; it was so boring whenever we weren’t working.” She said these sentences like they meant nothing, but they suddenly made everything in Matty’s brain make sense.

“Oh. Oh. That music festival, yeah.” He lied with a laugh as he scratched at the side of messy curls, trying to remember when she had told him about that. “Who was playing again?” As she started rattling off the setlist, the information came back to him. He hadn’t committed that festival to memory because he hadn’t known any of those band names. “Were they any good?” He asked offhandedly, trying to keep the conversation light.

“I didn’t really catch many sets; we were pretty flat out.” She answered.

  Silence filled the call as he planned his next move. He figured this was his in to try and work out who she had been with. If he knew who he was up against, maybe he could prove he was better. “So… Who were you out there with?” He asked with as much nonchalance in his voice as he could muster.

“There were a couple of people I knew that I worked the show with last year. It was good to catch up with them. Um… my manager was one of my brother’s friends from high school. He’s really nice, sorted out a holiday house for all of us and gave me a lift to and from the show. Oh, and my brother of course.” Her brother. Bloody hell. He had never actually met him, had he? It all made sense now. That explained the closeness in the photo without any actual intimacy. He found himself laughing at how quickly he had spiralled all that information into something it wasn’t. “What?” She asked, confused by the hysterics he was caught in.

“Nothing. Glad you had a good time.” He answered, finally feeling the weight lift from his shoulders.

“So, that voicemail you left-” She started, and just as quickly as it had left, that weight was right back on there. He left her a voicemail last night? Fuck. He didn’t remember that. What had he said? Could he pretend the call got cut off and reverse access voicemail messages? Probably not. “You never actually, y’know, said anything.” She laughed. Phew. “What was it that you called for?”

He thought about this for a few brief seconds. Fuck the bet. “Stay at mine this week.” He blurted out before he could think too hard on it.

  Despite her initial surprise in the offer, she had ended up agreeing to fly over to London this weekend and stay at his place. For a week. In his home. With him. His mind fucking reeled at what he had just done. Both ends of the spectrum were running rampant through his brain. Things could potentially go very, very well, and maybe having her cooped up with him for a week would be amazing. Or, maybe it would go terribly and everything that had run through his brain last night would come true and suddenly his whole way of thinking for the last six months would turn out to all be wrong. As he laid in bed and tried to work his way through this existential tug-o-war, he eventually heard his bedroom door open. Before he could roll over to see who it was, he felt as massive weight start crushing him into the mattress. Now he knew who it was.

  “George, get off me.” He growled, his face pressed into the duvet. “Why are you even here?”

“I crashed here last night after we got back. How’re you feelin’?” George’s voice called out as he shuffled around a bit to get comfortable.

“I’d feel a lot- ow, fuck.” Matty yelped as he received an elbow to the ribs. “-lot better if you fucking stopped flattening me.” At that, his best friend rolled to the other side of the bed with a laugh and allowed Matty some space.

“Do you remember our talk from last night?” He asked as their conversation took a more serious tone. Through his groggy brain he tried his best to remind himself of what conversation he would be referring to, before remembering George’s words about his mind ‘already being made up’. He was right. Had Matty not been too caught up in his own ridiculous thought spirals, he might’ve seen it sooner. He couldn’t believe that he’d been mistaking his feelings for dependence for this long. But that was about to change.

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

[alia15]

Turning Over a New Leaf

My house is cleaner.

I’m more relaxed.

More productive.

More active.

Dare I say...happier?

Happy? In this climate?? How does one go about finding this happiness I speak of? 

Well, for me, it was simple. Set an alarm.

I know, I know: what a concept. But something happened to me about a month ago and I realized that I had a lot of problems, stressors and time management issues in my life....

And I was to blame.

The thing is, I didn’t know I was to blame. I blamed my Microsoft Outlook Calendar which is jam-packed every single weekday with meetings and calls. I blamed the steady stream of emails that flowed into my inbox every minute. I blamed chiropractor visits twice a week that I had to work into my busy schedule. I blamed weekend plans and obligations and errands and everyone...but myself. Because while all the things I listed are very real, there was one person getting in the way of finding free time and well, “me” time, and that person was me.

So, I decided to make some changes. I don’t know about you, but when I make changes, I really MAKE them. They have to be well thought-out and documented. I started thinking about all the factors that were causing me grief and stress over the last few months, and tried to address them:

That’s some set of rules.

I put my money where my mouth is and instead of just making a list of goals on my iPhone’s Notes app, I actually...did the things. I set my alarm for 7am every day. I don’t have to start working until about 9ish, so that was going to give me some extra time to do... WHATEVER. Anything. Even if it was spacing out and having coffee while watching Saved by the Bell reruns, it was better than what I *had* been doing, which is laying in bed until about 9:00 (er, 9:15 some days) and then scrambling like a mad woman to start my day. Frantic. Aggravated. Rushing.

And, for what? I work from home now, and likely will be for a while. Why was I torturing myself? How many days could I get out of bed late and then turn on my computer only to realize I had a meeting in 15 minutes? How many days could I spend sitting at my desk working, and ONLY working all day, realizing when I signed off later that I never really moved much, never went outside, never took a real break?

It was unhealthy, and it made me unhappy.

I also started to wonder why I was getting out of bed so late, ESPECIALLY since my body clock typically wakes me up around 7:30 or 8:00am. If I was up, why didn’t I...ya know, get up? Physically? 

I knew why.

The damn phone. We all do it. We wake up, and before anything else we grab that little device that connects us to the world with the touch of a button. What news alerts do I have; what happened overnight since I went to bed? What’s going on in Twitter World? What’s trending? Let me check Facebook and see whose birthday it is! Let’s scroll through Instagram and Tik Tok and Snapchat AND OH MY GOD IT’S 9:20???? How the hell did an HOUR AND A HALF go by??

Nope. No more. I made a ‘rule’ that I’d set an alarm, and even if I needed a few minutes (or hell, 30 minutes) to lay in bed before getting up, the one thing I could NOT do is scroll through my phone. And guess what? It helps. IT HELPS A LOT. Let me tell you all the things I did this morning: Wednesday, October 14:

dusted & cleaned some windows

rode the stationary bike for 30 minutes 

threw in a load of laundry

had breakfast (hard boiled eggs & some turkey bacon) and coffee 

caught up on the morning news

got ready for the day: makeup, outfit, hair

started this blog post

And I did this all before 9am. 

The catalyst for making these changes happened one weekend in September when my parents were here helping me out with some outdoor cleanup and gardening. They were so helpful in undoing some of the damage Leo and I had done over the summer: we had overgrown plants, weeds, a messy/sandy deck, and we needed some serious ASSISTANCE. And while I appreciated the help, I also felt guilty. Why hadn’t I taken care of this myself? Why did I keep hearing the same phrase come out of my mouth multiple times that day while my parents were over?

“I don’t have the time.”

That was my response when I was asked why I don’t go to Home Depot to get some new outdoor fall stuff. That was my response when asked about watering plants or plucking weeds out of the ground. I DON’T HAVE THE TIME, OKAY?! I AM A VERY BUSY WOMAN!!! 

And, I am. We’re all busy to some extent. And sometimes, it IS hard to find the time for things: house things, chores things, exercise things. But you CAN make the time. You can better USE your time. Since I’ve been getting up earlier each weekday, I’ve used those hours in the mornings for productivity quite often. On weekends, we’ve taken the free time we DO have (before or after plans we might have) to do the things we don’t get to during the week. Just this past weekend, before going to my sister-in-laws house to celebrate our birthdays, Leo and I went to a local preserve in our town to get a walk in. On a recent Sunday when Leo was watching the Jets, I did a LONG OVERDUE closet organization. For me, personally, spending my limited and precious free time on my phone or watching TV makes me feel shitty. Sometimes it’s okay, but I’m generally a happier person when I feel like I’ve gotten things done. 

Oh yeah, and I’m happier the more I MOVE. This isn’t about weight loss or some unhealthy diet culture; this is about overall physical and mental health. Look at how little I moved in August and September. I felt it.

Let’s be real: this year has been TOUGH. We’ve had to make so many adjustments to all the curveballs tossed our way, and we’ve had to navigate the countless changes. But, despite how long we’ve been doing this whole corona dance, it’s never too late to pivot and turn things around. Since March, I’ve been trying to find ways to better myself and find ways to improve my daily life all while working around a challenging work-from-home sitch, a bad back, and a bunch of other obstacles. 

This isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach, and I know everyone is different, but if you’re anything like me and think you can benefit from some inspo, great. I wrote this post in hopes that I’d potentially motivate someone to make a change that could help make them happier. The few times I’ve shared this with people -- in person or on social media -- I usually get a response along the lines of “I need to start doing this.” Or, similarly, a coworker/friend recently DID take my advice, and wrote me to tell me:

...am I a self-help guru???

Bottom line, take care of yourself. I know it’s hard, and sometimes it takes some effort. But it’s important: especially in a year like this one.

Stay safe & healthy!

-Ali

[basketofverbiage]

Candy and Tradition

So, I decided to challenge myself to write and post 25 drabbles between now and Christmas. Here is the first (also, all the recipes listed are real things my family makes, so if you are curious about them, let me know and I can post some of them)!

For 90% of the year, Y/n was perfectly happy with her life in Seoul. While she did get a little bit homesick from time to time, her beautiful boyfriends made everything better on those days. Namjoon and Jungkook were the perfect mix of brains and brawn, art and sport, sweet and spicy, and kept life interesting enough that Y/n really didn’t miss her home country. However, the 10% of the time where homesickness was paramount was the holiday season. Since she grew up in America, Y/n’s family all celebrated Thanksgiving, and she’d grown used to not being able to do the same in Korea. Her family had never been traditional about the turkey and all the trimmings, so that part was easily displaced for Y/n. In fact, one year, her family had had a taco bar instead; however, the tradition that they kept without fail was that the entire family came together the Saturday after Thanksgiving to make homemade candy of all varieties. While other families baked Christmas cookies together, Y/n’s family spent 8-12 hours making all kinds of confections; if it wasn’t nailed down, it got covered in chocolate that day.

Y/n usually would fly home for a few days to participate in the candy making festivities, but this year it just wasn’t feasible due to her work schedule. Her family was okay with it, and her mom had promised to video call her so that she could see her nieces and nephews experience the day for the first time, but it just wasn’t the same. So, when the week of Thanksgiving came, Namjoon and Jungkook noticed how upset she was becoming.

“Hyung, we need to do something to help Noona. She’s so sad about not seeing her family,” Jungkook told Namjoon as he brought the elder a cup of coffee to his studio.

Namjoon accepted the steaming cup of coffee with a tender kiss to the younger’s lips before speaking. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it all morning and I think I have a solution. What if we call and get some of Y/n’s favorite recipes from her mom and we have our own candy making day here in Seoul? We have this weekend off for a change, and maybe Jin-hyung would be okay with us taking over the kitchen for the day.”

“I’m sure he would because he’d get to eat some of the things we make,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. “When can we call for those recipes? It might be hard to get some of the ingredients so we might have to overnight them from online.”

“I’ll reach out by text since it’s the middle of the night there. Maybe we can tell Y/n that we can’t come over to her apartment tonight because something came up here, and we can stay late here and video chat her then.”

After getting a goodbye kiss for the road, Jungkook headed off to record some vocals for their new album. He felt a bit better now that he had a plan in place to cheer up their girlfriend, and he knew that she’d love the surprise. He’d loved Namjoon since he was 15 but was still amazed at how intuitive the man was and how quickly he could come up with a solution to nearly any problem. He trusted that Namjoon would let him know when their important call was, so he threw himself into his work to finish in plenty of time.

Y/n’s mother was a morning person and responded excitedly at 5 am her own time and scheduled a time to call the boys. They would call her at 10 pm KST; it would still be morning for Y/n’s mom, but it would give her time to get some recipes together. She wanted to scan them in and email them to Namjoon.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon would probably work on music right up until the call, so he called Y/n himself.

“Hello, my Love!” she answered.

“Hi Noona. Have you had a good day at work today?” he asked through the biggest smile. Just hearing her voice squeezed his heart in the best way.

“Oh, you know. It’s been work,” she giggled. “Have my amazing boyfriends been working hard?”

“Yeah, we have. And that’s part of why I called. Something has come up, and we won’t be able to come over tonight, Noona. We have to re-record all over our vocals for 3 songs. The computer they were on crashed and the vocals were lost, so we have to stay late to catch back up. I know you have to work tomorrow, and we don’t want you to stay up too late waiting on us. I don’t know what time we will be finished.”

Jungkook felt guilty lying to one of the loves of his life, but hopefully the surprise they were coordinating would make up for it. It tugged his heartstrings at the way she sounded so sad not to see them.

“I’m so sorry, Noona. We will make it up to you this weekend when we are off,” Jungkook promised.

After talking for a few more minutes, Jungkook made Y/n promise to text him when she got home safely after work so that he could order dinner to be delivered to her. Even if they weren’t physically going to be there, he could make sure that she ate well. He pondered over their plan a bit more as he returned to Namjoon’s studio.

“I talked to Noona. I told her we had to re-record all the vocals for like 3 songs so we wouldn’t be over. We should tell the others so if she asks they will play along until Saturday,” Jungkook told him. “I hated lying to her.”

“I know. I talked to her earlier today after we heard back from her mom, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her we couldn’t come, so I’m glad you did. When I tried, my voice just stopped,” Namjoon replied.

They curled up on the sofa in the studio and ordered dinner for themselves as well as dinner for Y/n once she arrived home. After they ate, Jungkook curled up into Namjoon’s arms for a bit, just loving the warmth and love radiating off of him. The recipes that Y/n’s mom had emailed came through, so they looked them over and started a grocery list. All the recipes had either standard names or weird Christmasy names; Jungkook didn’t have any idea what the hell an Elf Bite was, but it sounded super good. Y/n’s mom called right on schedule and let them know that if they needed her to she could ship some of the ingredients that they might not be able to find in Korea from America. Namjoon pre-paid the postage for a package since they figured even sending a package second day from America would be expensive and since this was their idea, they wanted to cover the cost of everything.

“Boys, you have to have someone record her reaction to this for me please. I know we were a bit hesitant about your relationship at first, but I’m so happy you found my little girl. You are both wonderful for her,” Y/n’s mom said to Namjoon and Jungkook before ending the call. “You really do bring so much light and love into her world. Thank you for doing this for her.”

The next few days were a whirlwind as the boys worked hard and also spent a lot of time searching out the rest of the ingredients that they needed. Y/n mom had shipped nearly everything they needed for a few of the recipes, and with the help of some of the staff, they were able to get everything together. Jin helped hide everything in the dorm and was wholeheartedly supportive of their endeavor. So much so that he offered to help with the plan.

Namjoon and Jungkook were going to get everything out and get started on the peanut butter ball recipe that Y/n’s mom had sent. She had been very specific about how some of the ingredients couldn’t be measured, but that Y/n would just know if it was right by taste. Jin was going to call Y/n at 6 am on Saturday morning and beg her to come over. He was going to say that he was trying to make waffles and he just couldn’t figure out what was going wrong and beg her to come help him. Y/n loved to cook and to share her recipes with others, and this wouldn’t be the first time that Jin called her at a random time of the day begging for her help in recreating something they had eaten in America. Hopefully, by the time Namjoon and Jungkook had stumbled through the first part of the unfamiliar recipe, Y/n would be there to make the special adjustments to make the recipe complete.

They had stayed at the dorm Friday night so that they would be in place to spring their surprise. Y/n had had to work late so it worked out all around. Once they had showered after dance practice that day, they curled up in Namjoon’s bed and facetimed their girl. She looked so sad and tired, but Jungkook hoped that the next day would lift some of that sadness. Jungkook slept wrapped around Namjoon, their bare chests pressed together, until their alarm went off. At 5 am, Namjoon and Jungkook were sleepily getting ready for their day. Jungkook felt like he had barely slept from his anxiety that they would fail at the surprise, but it was go time. Jungkook made coffee and a light breakfast for them while Namjoon got dressed.

Namjoon came down the hall with Seokjin following behind. They were talking quietly amongst themselves as Jungkook put eggs and toast onto 3 plates and poured three cups of coffee.

“Are you guys ready for this?” Jin asked between bites of eggs.

“Yes, hyung,” Namjoon smiled softy. “Call our baby over.”

Nearly 30 minutes later, Y/n finally arrived. They had left the door unlocked so she could get in with no issues.

“Jinnie?” she called softly as she removed her shoes.

“In here, Y/n,” Jin called from the kitchen.

When Y/n rounded the corner into the kitchen, her mouth dropped open. Seokjin was standing against the back countertop with his phone raised, filming her reaction. Namjoon had both hands buried in a bowl, with powdered sugar streaked up his cheek. Jungkook was laughing as he stirred something in a bowl placed over a boiling pot while still watching Namjoon struggle.

“We’re not making waffles, are we?” she finally gasped out.

Jungkook turned off the eye of the cooktop before coming over and wrapping her in his arms. “No, Noona, we’re not making waffles. We know you were so sad you couldn’t be with your family for making candy with them. So we talked to your mom, and brought candy making to you. Your mom even shipped some ingredients from America for us.”

“Um…my loves, I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment, but I have no idea what I’m doing. Please help me,” Namjoon whined.

After she finally recovered from the shock, Y/n jumped right into showing the loves of her life and her best friend how to make the recipe that her grandmother showed her how to make as a toddler. No one was surprise when Namjoon dropped the first peanut butter ball he dipped in melted chocolate onto the floor while Jungkook lived up to his golden maknae nickname by making a peanut butter ball that was perfectly dipped and looked better than Y/n’s example. As time went on, the other members started getting out of bed and following the smell of peanut butter and chocolate until the entire group was standing around in various states of dress, rolling dough into balls and dipping into chocolate. Even Yoongi got into it.

They made so many different recipes of candy. Y/n’s mom had sent over several different recipes: Mounds balls, peanut butter balls, peanut butter Elf Bites, S’mores balls, chocolate covered pretzels, turtles, and peppermint bark. Half of the group was nearly sick from all the sugar, so they ordered pizza. Everyone else took turns in the shower while Y/n, Namjoon, and Jungkook curled up on the couch together. Y/n was sitting in Jungkook’s lap with her legs draped over Namjoon’s gorgeous thighs.

“Thank you both so much for today. I can’t explain how much this means to me,” she murmured to them through tears. “It made me feel less like I was a thousand miles from my family. It was so amazing that you were able to make my family’s recipes with me. Some time it would be amazing to merge the two, but even if that can never happen, I feel like it will be okay. The world won’t end if we start our own traditions here in Seoul.”

[raisingsupergirl]

A Daydream In Defense of Classical Education: Love the Lord Your God With all Your Solid, Liquid, Gas, and Plasma

LentWatch 2020, Week One: Freedom!

Change is hard. Breaking habits is harder. And breaking habits without accountability is the hardest, which is probably why I've already "failed" at my personal Lent goals by snacking after dinner (c'mon, it was just a few cookies… and some meat-n-cheese… and some chips). But despite realizing my limits and having to drop that one goal, I've held strong to the rest (which you can read about by clicking here), and the results have been like a long sigh after months of holding my breath.

At first, I felt a little lost. Especially regarding social media and YouTube videos. It's amazing how we, in the 21st century, have lost the ability to sit idle. Every spare moment is taken up by checking our phones. Waiting at doctor's offices, going to the bathroom, five-second pauses in friendly conversation—they all fall victim to Instagram notifications, leaving no room for actual thought. And I almost forgot the joy of such idleness before I gave these little things up. And that, combined with cutting television down to a minimum and alcohol down to zero, has made way for that glorious thing that used to be so condemned by teachers and parents: daydreaming!

Now, one can't just cut out all entertainment cold turkey. I'm not even convinced that a human can survive on work and sleep alone. There must be some in-between where we recharge and enjoy pleasures of our own choosing. And so, instead of Facebook and Netflix and beers, I've been reading—at night, mostly, but also in the morning, and even a little during the day. As I said in my previous post, I started re-reading Celebration of Discipline. But I'm also reading The Book of Revelation, The Time Machine, and a creative young adult trilogy called The Illuminae Files. I've never been one to read multiple things at one time, but gosh, it seems like my mind has been hungry for too long, and now it's chowing down. And with the glut of all these stories and ideas, I'm finding that I pause every page or so to just think.

What am I thinking about? All kinds of stuff! For example, why water can't (typically) get hotter than 212 degrees Fahrenheit. Or why an open refrigerator will actually heat a room. Or whether Einstein was wrong about exceeding the speed of light. Or why four separate books of the Bible seem to disagree about how to love God (and thus, what it means to be human). You know, normal stuff.

WARNING: What follows is some serious musing and rambling. If you're strapped for time or are easily irritated by random details, skip to the last paragraph. You'll have no idea what the title of this post means, but hey, I'm not sure I really know, so…

Now, if you haven't checked out, you're probably just intrigued enough to wonder if I've completely lost it. But it may surprise you to know that all of the thoughts I listed above are quite related. And I never would have had them (or their subsequent "higher" questions) if I hadn't "wasted" tens of thousands of dollars on a bunch of classes that I "didn't need" in college. I would have just read the books I listed earlier with interest, and then I would have moved on with my life. But, you see, there are things that bind us—things that connect us to art, literature, history, architecture, mathematics, science, religion, and back to art again. And, for me at least, the more I fill in the gaps between these elements of the human experience, the more I appreciate it all.

I get that not everyone is like me. I get that most people are happy to learn a craft—become an expert, even—work at that craft, leave a legacy, and catch the last episode of their favorite TV shows. And that's the way it's always been. I mean, not everyone in ancient Greece was a philosopher. Not everyone in the Middle Ages received a classical education. But there may have been soldiers and peasants who would have enjoyed the experience had they been given the opportunity. And I, for one, am one of those peasants.

As I've said in previous posts, my young life was characterized by impulsiveness, which culminate in the idea that, "I should go to college and become a physical therapist." I just kind of had the idea one day, so I did it. I resonate with Elle Woods (from Legally Blonde) when she applied to Harvard Law School and said, "What, like it's hard?" Now, of course college was hard (and PT school was much more so), but I enjoyed it. All of it. Even the classes that I didn't need to take: philosophy, freshman English (in which I learned only about Little Red Riding Hood in all of her iterations throughout history…), physics, Old Testament studies, American history. Learning to enjoy education was a slow burn, and it definitely didn't peak until college. If I'd have followed my first inclinations as a senior in high school, I would have joined the military or the police academy, and I would have had a fulfilling career in either (likely with a more impactful contribution to society), but I never would have understood the universe in the way that I do now. And that would have been a real shame.

But I did go to college, and I did rack up student loans (which I'm scheduled to pay off this spring!). And I did come close to what could be called a classical education, which laid the foundation for me to continue to learn, grow, and connect thoughts and ideas into new and creative concepts… some of which are kind of insane, like the one's I mentioned above, which I will now explain briefly (but only if you see the dragon in this picture I took below. Why? Because it’s awesome, and if you don’t see it, you’re not worthy--aka weird enough--to continue):

Thanks to the books I'm reading in tandem—along with plenty of breaks spent daydreaming in idle, wandering thought—I've dredged up an old fascination of mine: Why is the Great Commandment represented in four different ways in the Bible? "Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." That's how the author of Deuteronomy puts it. But then when the verse is quoted by Jesus thousands of years later, Matthew, Mark, and Luke all put it in slightly different terms: "heart, soul, and mind," "heart, soul, mind, and strength," and "heart, soul, strength, and mind," respectively. Now, I realize the differences are subtle, and Mark and Luke both say the same things in a different order, but they are different. And when the essence of the phrase is, "Love God with everything you have," it's easy to wonder if these components make up everything it means to be human. And further research into the original languages in which these phrases were written sheds some light onto the discrepancy: English (and Greek, for that matter) doesn't have the words to describe the original Hebrew text, so slight variations are represented based on who's writing it and in what language.

But the intrigue remains. What does make up a human? And the answer, for someone like me (OCD, science-minded, Christian foundation), it's clear that we're bound together by a multifaceted system, like the Holy Trinity or the Four States of Matter. And so, if we take the States of Matter approach, what if our strength (bones, muscles, tendons) is akin to "solids," our heart (hormones, neurotransmitters, basic emotions) is akin to "liquids," our mind (cortical thought, short-term memories, self-awareness) is akin to "gas," and our soul (that ethereal, immortal morality not bound to social constructs or genetic influence) is akin to "plasma?" And so, such extrapolation (i.e. going down the Wikipedia rabbit hole) naturally leads to all sorts of allegory and thought puzzles. Oh, what fun it is to dream!

LAST PARAGRAPH BELOW FOR NORMAL PEOPLE:

Like I said, cutting the distractions from my day has allowed me to get back to the things that bring me true joy: quiet contemplation, purposeful living, and totally normal ideas about what it means to be human. Week one has been a success. I'm thankful for the money I "wasted" on my education because it's made me the man I am today, and I'm thankful for Lent because, even though I will inevitably fail at some of it, my ultimate victory will be remembering who I am as a man (which, apparently, boils down to the various states of matter…). So, thanks for reading, y'all. You could have been doing a bunch of other things (and you probably wish you had), but hopefully my rambling forced you to have at least one thought of your own.

And maybe, just maybe, that thought will lead to a daydream…

[sigritandtheelves]

I know you *just* posted the second chapter of Simple, but I’m here to implore you to write tons and tons more. PLEEEEAAASSSEEE! I have never loved an AU fic like I love this. I am so, so hooked and I love it!!!!!

I saved this ask to post with part 3–I hope you still like it, anon. 💛

Simple

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

PG-13 |  3.4k wds | pre-XF AU | MSR, Melissa/Samantha

A/N: y’all, this feels like it got a little out of hand, length-wise, so I hope it’s okay. And I swear to god, smut is on its way. Also an actual conflict, maybe.

-

November 23, 1989 - Baltimore

The Scully household was full of sound and light and laughter. Nat King Cole was already singing, despite Melissa’s protests—“At least wait until after dinner!”—but Charlie had insisted and his mother backed him up.

“I don’t see how it could hurt,” she’d said. “It’s nice.”

Melissa rolled her eyes and Charlie snuck a bite of stuffing off her plate while she wasn’t looking. There were two new guests this year, Samantha and her brother Fox, though the family was one short in Dana, a fact they all lamented (one of them, in particular, perhaps more than the others).

“How’s the house, Melissa? How’s that porch roof?” Bill Scully, who still pretended his daughter had only moved in with a friend, stuffed a bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“It’s fine, dad. The inspector said it had at least another five years.”

“Huh,” he grunted. “Well. You keep an eye on it.”

“Fox, do you want sauerkraut?” Maggie held the bowl up to him, and he tried not to make a face.

“Um,” he said. “No thanks.” He couldn’t get used to that particular Baltimore turkey-day tradition. She smiled at him and passed the bowl to her older son. The younger Bill kept glaring at him uncomfortably, and at Samantha, too, as if trying to puzzle them out. As if these Mulders were working some angle on the Scully family.

They were all scraping their plates and debating seconds when the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Maggie said. “It’s probably Dana.”

Bill Sr. stood up as well, anxious to talk to his youngest girl, and one by one, each of the Scullys popped into the kitchen to say their hellos and happy thanksgivings. Fox’s knee was bouncing, and he was chewing on his bottom lip. Melissa smiled at him from across the table.

“You wanna go say hi? Mom called her back so she’s not running up her long-distance.” She could tell he wanted to, could read his eagerness like a book.

“Does she know I’m here?”

Melissa nodded and Samantha shook him by the shoulder. “Go on,” she said. “When’s the last time you talked to her?”

He cleared his throat. “Ah.” A sheepish smile. “Yesterday.”

Melissa laughed and shook her head while he scooted around the table and into the kitchen.

“—I mean, if you’re able to come then. Melissa said she wants to have a Christmas Eve party? You know you’re welcome to stay here, too.” Maggie looked up, surprised to see Fox tiptoeing into the kitchen. He gave her a shy wave, then stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Uh huh,” she said. “Okay, honey, if that’s what you want to do, that’s fine.” She raised her chin at him in question.

“Melissa said I could say hi,” he explained, and Maggie’s eyebrows went up.

“You want to say hi?” Then back into the phone, “Dana, Samantha’s brother is here and he said he wants to say hi, is that alright?” A brief pause, then she smiled. “Dana says only if you promise not to talk about work.” She passed the phone to him, and he took it with a quick thank you before Maggie headed back to the dining room.

“Hey,” he said into the phone, smiling already.

“Oh hey,” she said, mock-surprised. “Long time no talk.”

“Hmm, it feels long.”

She chuckled. “So you’re at my parents’ house, huh? That’s kind of weird.”

“It is, it is,” he said. “Your parents are so nice, though. Your mom, especially. She kept checking on me all through dinner.”

“She’s sweet. No flack from dad?”

“Nah, he’s too concerned about Melissa’s home repair schedule. I think your brother hates me, though.”

“Bill, right?”

“How’d you guess? Charlie’s alright. They’re all great, really.”

“Well,” she said. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“I’m going to have to go over to each of your parents’ houses while you’re not there and just hang out with them. Maybe I’ll bring Samantha.”

“Oof, Dana, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“They’re that bad?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some day.”

“Good. I want to know.”

“Did you book your flight yet?”

“I did. I fly in on the fourteenth… But here’s the thing.”

“Uh oh.”

“No, it’s good. I got my first interview for my residency. I’ve applied to a few on the east coast, so it’s a good sign. But I’ll be busy my first week or so before the holiday.”

There was a brief pause. “Oh,” he said. “That’s great about the interview.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Only a little. And I’m happy you’re applying out here.”

“Me too.”

“Hmm, your brother is giving me a look from the other room. I think he’s suspicious. Is he gonna kick my ass?”

“You can probably take him. But, you know. Family dinner.”

“Right.”

“Will you call me again soon?”

“Of course.” He was tucked into the corner of the kitchen, talking into the phone like it was her ear, like they were completely alone. “Hey,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you,” he murmured. “When I see you again… I’m going to kiss you, okay? I don’t think I’ll be able to help it.”

Her breath sounded just a bit louder on the other end of the line. “Okay,” she said.

“I’ll talk to you soon. Bye, Dana.”

“Bye.”

—

Much later, after everyone had eaten pie and Fox had headed home to D.C., Melissa stood with her mother in the kitchen, drying and putting away dishes.

“Fox seems nice,” Maggie said. Nonchalant, as if it were just chitchat.

Melissa smiled. “He is. He’s a good guy. Sweet. Really smart.”

“How does he know Dana?”

“They met at our house last summer.” She put a plate in the cabinet.

“And?”

Melissa smirked, looked at her mother. “And what?”

Maggie crossed her arms over her chest. “And?”

“And they hit it off. I think she helped him with some work thing.”

“Are they dating?”

Melissa sighed and leaned back against the counter. “Mom. You need to ask Dana. Who lives in California, in case you’d forgotten, making ‘dating’ something of a complicated term.”

“Alright, alright!” Maggie raised her hands in the air, then went back to the dishes. “It’s sweet, though. Dana and your roommate’s brother.”

Melissa’s spine stiffened. “Mom—“

Maggie’s face looked pained. “I know.” She sighed.

“She’s not my roommate.”

Maggie nodded and took a deep breath, but didn’t look at her daughter. “I know.”

Melissa squeezed at the dish-towel in her hands until her fingers hurt, stared at her shoes. After a moment, Maggie looked back at the other woman, took the two steps across the kitchen to stand beside her, and put her hands on Melissa’s arms. “I know, sweetheart. It’s hard for me, but just… know that I love you. We all do.”

Melissa’s eyes burned. She sniffed. “Dad too?”

“Yeah,” Maggie said. “Dad too.” She held her daughter’s eyes for a long moment, rubbing her upper arms. “Come over again next week,” she said. “I think we just need to get used to it.” Another brief pause, as if Maggie were thinking through something. “But she’s lovely, Missy. I really like her.”

Melissa’s lip wavered, just a little, and she nodded, sniffed again. “I should see how she’s doing with the boys.”

She gave her mother a watery smile, and slipped out of the kitchen.

—

December 24 - Baltimore

Their timing was awful. It seemed a truly grand failure of fate that kept them apart for over a week after Dana arrived in town, despite their efforts to meet. First, she had an interview in Philadelphia, and then a case took Fox out of town until the twenty-third. Once, he showed up at his sister’s house and found he’d missed her by only ten minutes and he nearly beat his head against the wall in frustration. And then finally—finally—on Christmas Eve, the stars aligned. They would be in the same place at the same time—but only for one night. He and Samantha were driving to Connecticut to see their mother in the morning. Once again it felt like cruel fate was holding them forever apart.

Still, they would make of tonight what he could. He knocked on the door at 7:23, and stood shaking in the frigid air. The temperature had plummeted, but at least there had been no snow to slow his drive from Alexandria. Sam opened the door with a cry of delight and a “Come in, come in, it’s freezing!”

Inside it was warm and the lights were low and golden, the Christmas tree glowing, fireplace lit, that terrible Wham! song playing for the nine millionth time of the season. “Merry Christmas!” He told her, wrapping her into a hug with his free arm. She wore a red dress and a Santa hat, her long brown hair curling over her shoulders.

“Merry Christmas! Here, I’ll take your bag,” Samantha said, pulling his duffel from his shoulder so he could strip off his coat. He hardly noticed. He was scanning every space he could see, eyes everywhere at once. “She’s in the kitchen, Romeo.”

He looked at his sister and offered a sheepish smile. “Thanks,” he said.

He was sweating, though it was barely 20 degrees outside. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing his ears. She was here, somewhere in the same house as him, after all these months. He walked, hands shaking, head buzzing, through the living room and toward the kitchen.

Sam waited to put away his bag and instead rushed to grab Melissa, who was chatting in the living room, by the arm. “Wait wait, look, come here!” Conspiratorial, she dragged Melissa to the doorway that led to the hall.

Fox was not halfway to the kitchen door when Dana appeared in the corridor and stopped cold with a little gasp.

“Oh!” She said when she realized it was him.

She wore a deep green crushed velvet dress, long-sleeved, to the knee. Her hair was pulled back away from her face. Her lips and cheeks were red, with surprise or wine or makeup, he couldn’t tell and didn’t care. The world had gone black-and-white but for her: radiant, in full color, a beacon of warmth and light in these cold, dark days of early winter. Quiet hung between them for a long moment until he could speak.

“Hi,” he said eventually, feeling stupid. It was like he could hardly breathe in her presence, like no words could possibly do this moment justice.

Her lips turned up into a nervous smile, and she took a small step toward him, eyes drinking him in just as openly as he watched her. “Hi,” she replied.

He took a step forward to match hers, and they were only a few feet apart now, standing at the event horizon of their gravitational pulls. They hovered there, awed by the electric buzz of their attraction. Then they both moved forward at once, like slow motion, and his hand was reaching out to her face and he was bending down and she was leaning in and going up on her toes… and then he was kissing her. She tasted like white wine and her fingers were in his hair, touching him as he touched her. His free hand came to her waist and guided her body to rest against his. He felt her back arch, her breasts press against his sweater, and he was already embarrassingly hard, like a teenager with no self control, but he couldn’t help it, nor did he care. Not when this was really her, solid and true, flesh and blood, soft lips and warm skin after six months of wanting. He imagined hoisting her over his shoulder and dragging her upstairs, party be damned. He wanted to make love to her slow and soft behind closed doors.

There was a squeal behind him, the sound of Samantha’s feet hopping up and down on the hardwood as she still gripped Melissa’s arm. He heard Melissa mutter, “Come on, give ‘em some space.”

Dana’s arms came around his neck, and he wrapped his own around her waist so he could lift her momentarily, holding her tight to him, wanting all of her at once. Her feet dangled by his shins, and she giggled into his mouth, making him laugh too. When he worried they were making a scene, when he felt capable of maybe surviving a separation of a few inches, he set her back down and their lips parted. Her hands went to his shoulders, and his moved back to cup her face. Her eyes looked wet—as overwhelmed as he felt.

“You’re here,” he said.

“So are you.” One of her hands splayed across his chest, and she could probably feel his heart pounding under her palm.

“I’ve been waiting so long to do that,” he told her.  “I’ve been thinking about it forever.” One of his thumbs brushed across her lips and she kissed it. He was utterly, stupidly in love with her.

She nodded. “I know. Me too.”

Then she leaned in again, wrapped her arms around his waist, and tucked her body into his, her head resting on his chest like it belonged there always. She smelled so good, like clean shampoo and sweet perfume; the velvet of her dress carried the warmth of her skin to his fingertips. He didn’t want to let her go, even when party guests began making their way past them to and from the kitchen.  

“Come help me meet people,” she said, and took his hand in hers. “I’m not great at parties.”

He laughed and let her pull him toward the living room. “If you’re looking for a social butterfly, I have some bad news for you,” he said.

She tossed a smile at him over her shoulder, and he felt a kind of click in his mind—like he’d snapped a photo of her wearing that smile, in that dress, that he would keep with him for the rest of his life.

—

It was a smallish gathering, maybe fifteen in total, but for Dana, it felt like a massive crowd. All she wanted to do was be alone with him. Maybe have dinner, talk for a few hours, make out in his car afterwards. A normal date, she thought. They managed quiet moments here and there, a few stolen kisses under mistletoe, a handful of slow dances to Bing Crosby where she pretended not to notice how he grew hard when she pressed her belly against him. It was nice. But she was glad when the party began to thin around eleven and she didn’t have to explain to any more strangers why she was studying pathology, where she was applying for residencies, what she hoped to do when she finished, all while fully aroused.

By midnight, the last of the guests had left, and the four siblings were straightening up, carrying dirty cups toward the kitchen and throwing away paper plates and napkins. When the clock struck twelve, Samantha called out “Merry Christmas!” to the whole house. In the living room, she grabbed Melissa and pulled her into a kiss.

Fox and Dana were in the kitchen, rinsing egg-nog cups. He glanced at the clock and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Merry Christmas.” She flushed and angled her body toward his. He rested his forehead on hers, brushed their noses together.

“Mmmerycrims,” she mumbled against his lips, half kissing, half laughing.

Sam walked in then, barefoot now and sans Santa hat, carrying an armful of dishes. “Hey, get a room,” she said. “Just kidding. Dana, can you go help Melissa for a minute? I want to get these washed up before we go to bed.”

In the living room, Melissa was pushing furniture back into its usual place, out of the corners, angling the couch back toward the TV. Dana helped her carry the coffee table back into the center of the room. “There,” she said. “Looks good.”

Before heading up to bed, Melissa turned to look at her sister. “Hey,” she said. “Can I say something, Day?” Dana dropped a throw pillow onto the sofa and watched her sister carefully. Melissa lifted both hands to Dana’s shoulders and spoke softly. “He is wonderful and I love him. I want you to be happy. But remember to listen to yourself and what you need, too. Think about where you are and what you want, and don’t feel pressured.”

Dana nodded, eyes wide, suddenly grateful for her sister’s words. “I know.”

“Good,” Melissa said. “Now that I’ve said that, there are condoms in the top drawer of the night stand. Be safe and make good choices. Love you.” She squeezed Dana’s arms then turned and walked to the stairway, calling toward the kitchen on her way up, “I’m headed to bed, Sam!”

“Coming!” Samantha’s voice echoed from the other room.

After Sam went up a few minutes later, it was just the two of them for the first time, standing several awkward feet apart in the living room. Dana felt suddenly nervous, like the weight of the past six months had settled onto this moment, these hours that would follow now that they were alone. She watched him watch her, felt his expectations, and felt suddenly unsure. She chewed the inside of her cheek and looked toward the stairway. Her feet hurt. Her makeup felt old. She suddenly wanted very badly to be wearing pajamas and to be curled up in bed.

Fox took a few steps toward her, reached out to touch her elbow. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said, perhaps too quickly, fingers fidgeting, swallowing hard. She was shaking. Afraid of what tonight might mean, of what he might think of her. Were they really going to do this?

“Hey,” he said, pulling her into a gentle hug, just enough so she felt warm—safe. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “It’s a lot,” he whispered. She leaned back to look into his eyes, and he touched her face again. “Too much, too soon?”

She didn’t want it to be, but she was overwhelmed. She felt her eyes filling with tears against her will. She nodded, her bottom lip wobbling.

He leaned down and kissed it, just a reassuring press of his lips on hers. “Okay,” he said. “It’s okay.” He hugged her again and spoke into her hair. “We don’t need to do anything. It’s late, and I’m just glad I got to see you again.”

She let out a little choked sob into his sweater. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just… there’s a lot going on right now.”

He pulled back again so he could hold her face in his hands, look into her eyes as he spoke. “Dana,” he said. “I am standing in the same room as you. That makes this the best night I’ve had in six months. I’m sleeping on the couch—right here. So I’m gonna go brush my teeth and put on sweatpants and watch old movies until I can’t keep my eyes open. If you want, you can put on your PJs and join me. If not, I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast. Okay? You don’t need to be sorry. You don’t owe me anything.”

His eyes were serious and blue-green, softened by affection and concern. Was this what love was like, she wondered? This careful kindness, this swelling of the heart at the very sight of the other? Wasn’t this too soon for love?

“Okay,” she said. “I’d like that.”

Dana wanted this man very badly. More, perhaps, than she’d ever wanted anything else in her life. And that scared her. This thing they had was still soft and fragile, no mere lust, but the seed of some great flowering organism. She was grateful that he seemed to want to care for it as much as she did. In the upstairs bathroom, she washed her face and brushed her teeth and changed into comfortable pajamas. Perhaps it was too soon for flannel-love, too—perhaps she should have kept her makeup on, maintained the illusion a little. But she didn’t think so. As she walked back down the stairs, she thought, This feels right.

And it was.

-end chapter three-

Go to Chapter 4

[callioope]

Questions Meme!

Hello, yes, this HAS in fact been sitting in my drafts for ages and ages. Thank you to both @crazy-fruit and @ruby-red-inky-blue for tagging me and for waiting forever for me to answer (oops)! I’m sorry I took so long, but y’all ask really good questions and I had to think about some of them!

Question Set 1

1. How are you?

Oh, I’m doing alright! Thank you for asking. The earlier part of this year was rather rough, but therapy has been helping. I’ve been rather busy these past few weeks with traveling, and my schedule going forward is rather busy, too, so while I’m excited for those things, I’m also excited for the eventual moment I can just relax.

2. What would you say are your talents?

Writing. Making fancy color-coded spreadsheets. I’ve been told that my super power is getting random (annoying) songs stuck in other people’s heads. Does that count as a talent? 

3. If you had the chance to start your life again, would you take it?

NOPE. No thanks. I like where I am at right now, and I would not want to relive my awkward years. Er, at least, my more awkward, younger years. Cuz I’m totally still awkward. Just less awkward. I hope?

4. Which language would you like to speak instantly? 

HMM. ALL OF THEM. It’s really hard to choose! 

Language fascinates me, and in another life I feel like I would have devoted a lot more time to learning more of them. Unfortunately, I really hated German class in high school because of the teacher’s tendency to put people on the spot -- I think that is sort of inherent in a language class, but I get anxiety speaking in public. 

Anyways, I suppose I’ll answer Turkish to this question, since spouse and I keep saying we’re going to try to learn Turkish via Duolingo. For the record, my HS offered six languages, which was the most I’ve ever heard of an American school offering, and I was always quite happy with my choice of German. (The others were Spanish, French, Italian, Chinese, and Latin.) I do wish I had maintained my German better, and I that I had more time to learn Spanish. 

5. Where would you like to be right now?

Honestly? I’m pretty happy when I’m at home. But if I had to answer where “else” would I like to be right now, out of the whole world? Being back on safari in Botswana is a top contender, as are a variety of places in Turkey, and also Munich. 

6. What name would you give yourself?

I’ve always liked my actual name (Elizabeth). I know I go by Liz; one of my HS friends was quite stubborn and I’m a bit stuck with it now, but I don’t mind it. There are worse nicknames that come from Elizabeth. I used to go by Fiona online; I’ve always been fond of that one. 

7. What is something you’re currently learning?

OOF, what a good question. I sorta blanked on this at first, and my first thought was uhhhh learning how to cope with my OCD??? I’m doing exposure therapy right now, ish. Emphasis on the ish. Also mindfulness. Does that really even count? I started a beginner’s knitting project several months ago that I never finished, does that count? (I just need to seam it, that’s what I’m putting off. I have knit plenty of scarves; however, this is my first hat.) I’m sort of teaching myself ukulele although I haven’t really learned any new chords or songs in awhile. I would very much like to take more photography classes with a focus on wildlife photography. That involves buying a new camera and... signing up for classes. 

Question Set 2

1. What is a detail in a piece of art/a text that you like that you really admire?

This was very difficult, at first because it was like looking at a bin full of loose things and just seeing an assortment of color and being overwhelmed by it all, and then because once I did start digging around, I kept finding different ideas and it was too hard too choose.

Character-building: In the A Song of Ice and Fire series, when Arya starts working for the House of Black and White, Martin stops using the name “Arya” as she dons different identities. For example, he uses “Cat” for a bit, among other names. It shows she’s trying to be someone else, but the caveat is that there are still little mannerisms and such that show she hasn’t really left Arya behind (I think maybe she bites her lip or something? I don’t remember specific examples because it’s been over 5 years since I read these books, but I do remember really appreciating the general technique at the time). 

Music: In The Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” I love those repeated arpeggios, over and over, building, intensifying, as the white noise comes in and you can just feel the heaviness of desire, of want... (and then I love how it just breaks so suddenly! And I know it wouldn’t have been intended this way because that’s the end of side one, but since I listen to the whole album on spotify, then those bright chords of “Here Comes the Sun” come in and god Abbey Road is the best Beatles album)

Writing: the poetry of Florence + The Machine’s “All This and Heaven Too,” obviously, since literally the title of my blog comes from that. I’d quote that whole song honestly. There’s something that speaks to me about the incapability of language to fully encompass just... everything. I mean, love in specific here, but also just everything. Words are just these little boats we put meaning on and we hope they make it to the other side but everyone takes ‘em a little differently. 

Like, look at this: 

And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how 

And this: 

Words were never so useful So I was screaming out a language that I never knew existed before

Anyways, there’s also something just incredibly soothing about the music, too, and how she sings the song. There’s another line, from Sara Bareilles’ “Miss Simone” that goes “How does she know what a heart sounds like?” which pretty much sums up how I feel about “All This and Heaven Too” (and also many of Sara Bareilles’ song, especially that particular album, but I digress).

Anyways I did have some art examples, but I think I’ve rambled long enough.

2. Is there an idea that you really liked but had to discard because you couldn’t get it to work?

If I really like an idea, I don’t really “discard” it so much as put it on the shelf to attempt later. Out of recent fic ideas, I’ve really struggled with “How to Lose a Spy in 10 Days.” I first thought of this in late spring 2017, and for awhile I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but I was working on Whatever I Do at the time, and wanted to wait before starting another WIP. By the time I got to writing this, the inspiration well had sort of dried up. 

I really like the idea of a fun cat-and-mouse rom-com idea where Jyn and Cassian keep outsmarting each other, with a whole lot of competency kink, some “oh shit we actually work well together!” and maybe some battle couple. And I was really looking forward to both the moment when they both finally let their guards down around each other and the big confrontation when they actually find out each other’s identities. But it involved more mission writing than I was prepared for, and I really struggled with it. I think I need to start over but that involves a lot of working, so it’s unfortunately shelved for now, and I’m working on a “You’ve Got Mail” concept instead.

3. Is there something fandom-related you would like to be able to do (i.e. I’d like to be able to make gif sets but can’t)?

Oh, yes, absolutely! Really anything that’s not writing related, lol. Gif sets, art, etc. But most of all, I have a music video idea for the song “So Close” from Enchanted--like I have a whole story board plotted out in a google doc. But I don’t have any video editing software, don’t even know how you get the scenes for a music video, etc. I have made videos before, but not since high school, and I don’t even have the cheap, basic video editing program I used back then. Sometimes I think I should just attempt make a gif set instead, but there are so many lyrics! and scenes that go with the lyrics! that I don’t know how to consolidate it into that format anyways. 

4. What is a skill you’ve acquired through fandom work?

Hmm, this was tough. I’m going to say HTML. I’m not up-to-date on webdesign at all, but back in my early fandom days, I ran a few fansites. I still sometimes use HTML while leaving comments or to edit posts on dreamwidth or w/e. It’s super basic, but it has helped me at work at a variety of jobs. I take it for granted that people my age should know basic HTML, but a lot of them don’t, and then a lot of people I work with now are older and definitely not tech savvy. 

5. Do you think anyone can learn to create great art, or does it take talent?

Well, I’m going to cheat a little. I do think think that anyone can learn to create great art, but I also think that everyone has a talent at something, and part of learning to create great art is recognizing your skill sets and honing those. If that makes sense? I’ve sort of seen both sides to this. I’ve seen naturally talented people create great things, but I also think that they’re probably cheating themselves if they’re not learning and honing their craft and trying to get better. But I’ve also seen people who started out making things that maybe you wouldn’t call great, but they worked hard over and over again, and looking at their work now, you’d say they were talented without ever knowing the difference. Great art = talent + learning + passion. Did that even answer the question? ...moving on

6. Do you prefer AUs or in-universe? Why?

I prefer to write in-universe, for sure. I find modern AUs more challenging, mostly because--and I feel kinda bad saying this--it’s very difficult for me to tap into Jyn and Cassian’s characters without some kind of tragic background. Their experiences and how they coped with them shape their personalities, and it’s really hard to separate them from those. My WWII was easier because, hey, it’s war, not so different from in-verse. But I initially tried to write Learning Curve in a modern AU and I was just totally bored. Putting it in universe made it more interesting to me, especially having to finagle a happier plot inverse. IDK, it might even be that I generally struggle to make up any conflict in modern AUs that feels interesting.

THAT SAID, lol, I definitely read either. So it’s probably strange for me to be hung up on it because I’ve read nice fluffy modern AUs and found them perfectly engaging.

Tagging: @theputterer, @magalis, @allatariel, @mythologicalmango, @threadsketchier  MY USUAL DISCLAIMER APPLIES: no pressure if you just don’t wanna, AND if anyone sees this and was like “aw hey i wish she’d tagged ME” well guess what, I wish I did too! so go ahead and do it and let me know and then i’ll know to tag you next time, too :-) 

Questions:

When you suffer a setback or a series of setbacks when creating (writing, drawing, knitting, any kind of crafty project thing you work on... even work), what are some strategies you use to cope with that stress and move forward?

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to create/make and what did you learn from it?

What part of a bicycle would you be?

What’s a helpful writing (art/crafting/work) technique you’ve learned?

What’s a piece of art that made you see things differently?

You’re a new addition to the crayon box. What color would you be and why?

What was the last board game you played and what did you like or not like about it?

*sorry these came out rather writer heavy!

[joshuanycintern]

Sunday June 9, 10:30am

Good morning world! Let it be known that this is my third attempt trying to craft a blog post. This one will probably be longer than usual as it’s going to cover my first day on the desk at work plus Saturday (which was notable in itself)!

First Day on the Desk For some reason I was extremely sluggish getting out of bed that morning. I think it was probably due to me tossing and turning the night prior due to stress, plus sleeping a bit later than usual after coming back from art galleries, the High Line and the like. In the morning, we met up on the 4th floor before being whisked away to where I would be actually working (which surprisingly is much higher than I originally anticipated).

To say I was nervous was an understatement. It wouldn’t truly be a Joshua experience if I didn’t try to find out a little bit more about my Line Manager prior to meeting them (e.g. talking with Dennis, scoping out social media profiles on LinkedIn & Facebook). I walked into the building, headed straight to the cafeteria to get my caffeine fix which seemingly worked much quicker than before thereby accelerating my heart rate a bit more than was comfortable. I walked into the meeting room where there a bunch of other interns gathered (thank God) and just waited for a moment to get our schedules, get company swag (which is another thing, I didn’t realize banker bags were a thing until I just googled them), and finally get picked up by our line managers. For those of you who know me, I have two distinct versions of myself: stressed out Joshua and happy bubbly smiley talkative Joshua. When meeting my line manager, I was definitely trying to balance the two, but I worry it may have been too much of the talkative side because my manager being a much more seasoned professional was not reciprocating. Oh well, I’ll figure out his style soon enough.

Anyways, I was whisked away to the 15th floor where I was re-introduced again to two other interns who would be inhabiting the same conference room as I was for the next 10 weeks, fun! Thankfully our conference room is just interns so fingers crossed it’ll be a fun room, plus we have windows looking down towards Radio City Music Hall! The rest of the day was kind of a blur with meetings, emails, fixing technical issues which apparently are very common on the first day, etc. I ended up leaving at 6:45p, go figure!

First day reflections, it’s so different compared to working at a startup like I did last summer. Each floor easily has over a hundred people, it’s impossible to know everyone. With some thirty some floors as well, each floor is extremely different. I visited the trading floor to meet part of my team and I can unequivocally say it was like the movies. TV screens everywhere with market news, boards with the time in New York, London and Tokyo, and displays with commodities prices, bond yields, etc. Not to mention, the entire floor was LOUD with people working on phones, traders on their computers, etc.

It’s incredible to think that I’m working in a multinational corporation, nonetheless an investment bank. I was talking with one of my friends I met during training about how different it is and how much there is to learn. So many different functions and areas of the market that I don’t understand but am so interested in learning about. It’s crazy to think how everything just comes together and how much money moves in and out on a daily basis. So much information, so much buzz, and it’s all moving at breakneck speed.

Saturday’s adventures Definitely a slow start to the day again, leaving bed this time at almost 11am. Not too much to say about the morning besides the fact I got a haircut (expensive sed), went grocery shopping to prep for this week’s meals: turkey sausage & vegetable scramble leggo, and then finally left the house with Amberlyn at 4pm.

It’s always nice to leave the house especially when the weather is so nice! Besides walking through Morningside Park to get to my hair salon, Amber and I visited Battery Park as part of our visit to Lower Manhattan. We then went to Chinatown to pick up some dumplings before picnicking in Central Park with our friend Kevin.

One of the things I’m most looking forward to is enjoying the park system here in New York. So many urban oases to escape the fast paced city-life. I can’t wait to sprawl out on a blanket and just read through some books I checked out (which I still need to read).

[tessa-quayle]

Praise song for every hand-lettered sign

happy thanksgiving!  

below is a gift fic for the awesome @merger-she-wrote - grateful for her friendship and for encouraging me to get on this site - ha!

also thankful for @jomiddlemarch who made this drabble readable and whose own writing is unparalleled

the title is from the poem “Praise Song for the Day” by Elizabeth Alexander (read at Barack Obama’s 2009 Presidential inauguration)

other notes and the same drabble can be read on AO3

_____

Julia pulled the knit hat over her ears, pearly pink with cold and matching the worn wool.  Leaning against the marble column, she blew into each icy fist and watched her breath waft in the cold November air before gripping her camera to twist off the 35mm lens.  As she reached into her square leather bag to exchange the lens, fingering the chrome of the 50mm, she felt a heavy warmth against her leg.  

She looked down and spotted Silver - the First Cat - her deep purr reverberating through her dense body and into Julia’s jeans.  Silver’s stubby white paws peeked out from the lush coat of grey fur, her lifted tail a plume.  Before Julia could put away her gear to scoop up the cat, a baritone voice boomed from a distance.

“Poehler!”  She saw a figure in a reflective running vest, long tights, shorts, and a tattered t-shirt waving happily at her.  From a distance, two large men trailed behind in black tracksuits like shadows.  He slowed to a jog as he neared, winced presumably at his left knee, its orthopedic deficits minutely chronicled in the Post, even meriting occasional mentions in the Grey Lady.

He regarded her inquisitively, panting: “What’re you doing here?”  

Silver sauntered over to him, stretching herself against the taut curve of his muscled calf.   He swiftly crouched down to hug the cat, his long fingers stroking her downy chest and she licked the base of his thumb.  Julia instinctively raised the camera to her face, clicking at the image of the president kneeling by his cuddly pet, his tousled salt and pepper hair, the ends darkened wet with sweat, filling the frame, a perfect shot.

“I just wanted to check out the lighting before the ceremony,” Julia replied casually, tucking her camera into the bag.  The pardon of the Thanksgiving turkey was scheduled later that day.   A plump turkey would be trotted out, its rainbow-painted snood drooping and darting beady eyes oblivious to its fate and circumstance.

“The kids are excited about this event,” he stood up, hands on his waist, and flashed her a wide grin that made him impossibly young to be the leader of the free world.  “I hope you’re coming to dinner tonight.”

“Yes,” afraid of sounding a bit too eager, she quickly added: “Official duty and all.”

“Aw come on, it’s not just official business.  It’s Thanksgiving!” he insisted. “You gotta stay for dessert.  I convinced the kitchen staff to let me make my famous pecan bourbon pie.  With pecans from El Paso.”

“You had me at bourbon,” Julia smiled, warmed by the prospect of the rich dessert, bourbon a dark gold in a heavy tumbler, the light in the President’s dark eyes.

***

Vivian watched Gareth bring her coffee and a thick, mysterious-looking rectangular packet.  He had gotten up early that morning to check the downstairs mailbox she neglected and was already half dressed for work, a buttoned white collared shirt neatly tucked into dark navy trousers, his jacket and tie in the bedroom still hanging from her mirror.  “DO NOT BEND” in block print was red-stamped on the manila and black wavy stripes filled the upper corner.  She slowly sliced the side of the envelope with a brass letter opener, fashioned like a fang, and peeled away the bubble wrap, popping as it revealed a card and framed photograph.

Vivian chuckled softly at the curlicue scrawl inked on the card.  

“Vivi -

When we set out to fuck the patriarchy, we didn’t mean for you to take it literally.  

You are sorely missed.  When are you coming home?  Will we ever meet Old British Dude?

Enclosed is a picture from inauguration.  It needs to occupy a spot on your piano.  

Happy Thanksgiving (and yes, the WH turkey lived to gobble another day),

Jules”

She failed to suppress a giggle as Gareth leaned over to study the picture more closely: Vivian in a sparkling royal blue gown with a plunging neckline and a tall, boyishly handsome man in a smart tux in black tie. His arm was draped around her, his large hand grasping the side of her bare shoulder, matching incandescent smiles beaming into the camera.  

He cocked his head to the side and muttered, “That’s quite a dress.  I didn’t realize you were such close friends with the President.”

“I’m not - Julia is. She’s the lead White House photographer and took this at one of the inaugural balls.”

Gareth countered: “So he just seeks out pretty voters on the day he’s sworn in? What does his wife have to say about that?”  

“Oh stop,” she bristled, carefully expanding the velvety easel behind the photograph, letting it stand on the table top.  “He’s just generous with his time. Though I did work my ass off for his campaign.  And a few good friends are now in the administration.   Marisa heads the Department of Justice.  And Amy - another Amy - she’s the first psychiatrist to be Surgeon General.”

“Is his cabinet all women?”

“Mostly,” she replied, folding her arms, slightly irritated at his tone.  “No one says anything when cabinets are majority men.”  

“You’re blushing,” Gareth said, smiling at her.

“What?”  Vivian feigned surprise and felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

“You adore him.”

“I adore his policies,” she huffed. “You don’t get it.  You can’t imagine how … appealing it is when someone champions your right to control your own body.  And when someone stands up for the voiceless and most marginalized in our society.”

“You Americans always want to fall in love with your politicians.”

“That’s rich, coming from someone who probably fantasized about Thatcher.”

“That’s brutal, even for you,” Gareth shot back.

“Brutal?  Or politically incorrect?”  Vivian winked, finally taking the cup of coffee meant for her from his hands, and enjoying a long sip.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Missing Pieces, part 3

Welcome back. When last you were here, I was molting and got framed for petty theft. Onward.

After we got the crystal swan back from Charlie, we brought it back to the Autumn Court and told the freehold as a whole about Charlie and what he was doing. The Autumn Court was super grateful that we got the Token back and they all started treating us more warmly afterwards. It was a good feeling – I’d been really unhappy about the whole framed-for-theft thing, but getting the swan back was a way to prove myself to the Court I planned on pledging loyalty to. The Dagda also re-scheduled our pledging ceremony for the next major event, which was going to be the Winter Formal. No, I’m not joking. That’s actually what it’s called.

At any rate, about a week after we got the swan back, Yova came up with an idea that we were all on board with: namely, throwing a surprise belated birthday party for Pam. Pam had had a bit of a rough patch getting back to the mortal world and had been throwing herself into her work at the restaurant, and we hadn’t had much of a chance to see her. We all split up the responsibilities: Bella got some flowers for decorating, Day got the booze, Yova called in some favors to get catering done, and I handled the cake and offered to host. We also all got some presents for Pam: Yova and I went in on a specialty stand mixer for her and Day, much to my surprise, asked me to come with him to help him pick out some gifts. He got her a really nice apron and oven mitt set and a hardy African violet, something that could make it through the upstate winters. It was actually kind of nice spending some time with Day. He was so worried about getting something nice for Pam and I was pleasantly surprised that he trusted my taste enough to help him. (His first instinct was to get Pam a fifth of Wild Turkey and a pack of Virginia Slims. I had to gently tell him that something that was good enough for his mom wasn’t good enough for Pam.)

A couple of days before the party, Bella started feeling sick and ended up not able to make it. A couple of years in Arcadia didn’t do much for our immune systems and each of us got laid up with a cold or two in the month we got back, but Bella ended up with full-on influenza. She sent the flowers over along with about eighty thousand million bajillion sad emojis. Day and Yova came over to my apartment about an hour before showtime. Yova dropped off the catering and started decorating with a ton of fairy lights. Day plunked his ample behind down on my poor secondhand sofa and tried (and failed miserably) to fold napkins. Yova decided that it would be a better use of his time to sample the mocktails she was making and tried to get him to keep his damn socks off of my coffee table. I had no time for any of this because I was racing the clock to get the cake ready before Day went to pick up Pam.

At her place, Pam was just settling in and trying to relax after a long day of work. She was reading up on some chemistry articles that she’d been meaning to take a look at, but as she did, she felt something nudging at the back of her head, an intrusive thought. She managed to keep it at bay, at least until Day picked her up (leaning on the horn of Yova’s crappy pickup) and took her back to my place. She’d been told we were just going to be watching The Great British Baking Show (shut up, it’s awesome and you know it) and having some snacks, so she was pretty gobsmacked when we all yelled, “Surprise!”

Now, this next part I’m going to chalk up to ignorance. You see, it’s hard to understand, even looking the way we do, that we’re not human anymore and things that we wouldn’t normally struggle with can cause serious moments of reckoning. For me as a Beast, it’s if I accidentally hurt somebody without thinking about it. Yova as a Fairest can’t handle it if she leads somebody into danger or if her inaction causes somebody problems. Day as an Ogre gets very upset if somebody who he doesn’t think is an enemy runs from him or is very scared by him. Bella as a Darkling goes bonkers when she finds out something she previously thought was true isn’t. And Pam? Well. Wizened really, really, really don’t like being surprised.

To Pam’s credit, she managed to hold it together pretty well, even though I could see that her smile was a little tighter than I was used to seeing. It turns out that she wasn’t really focused on us. The thought she was trying to push back from earlier got through and was taking over her whole conscious. All she kept seeing was a red ribbon with a silver bell hanging over her daughter’s bed. After she managed to clear that from her head, she was touched when we told her that we wanted to celebrate her birthday because of everything she did for us. I pulled out the cake and Yova pulled out the crappy guitar she’d managed to bring back from Arcadia in true battle-bard style and we all did our best to not make “Happy Birthday to You” sound like the funeral dirge it is.

About halfway through singing, however, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Evain was calling me. I ducked into the kitchen as Pam was blowing out the candles on her cake (lit courtesy of Paisley, natch) and answered, asking what was up. It wasn’t Evain on the other end, however – I heard a very annoyed woman saying, “I can’t deal with him right now, you’re going to need to babysit him. I’m outside your apartment,” and she hung up. I trusted Yova with cutting the cake and slipped out and down the stairs.

When I got there, I saw a very annoyed Stella (the grouchy Autumn courtier we all saw when we got to the B&B), holding up a drunk-looking Evain. She practically threw him at me and said, “Apologies, but I have neither the time nor inclination to deal with him now. He’s your problem,” and off she sped. Evain was clearly not in a good way and I started helping him up the stairs while I texted Yova in all caps, “DISTRACT DAY. DISTRACT DAY.”

As I was helping Evain up to the second floor where my apartment was, I realized he actually wasn’t as drunk as I thought. He was drunk, for sure, but he seemed more upset than anything. I asked him what was going on and he let out a deep sigh, telling me that he couldn’t find his daughter’s picture. “It’s the last thing I had of my baby girl and it’s gone.” I told him that we could try and figure out where it went once he sobered up and he nodded.

When we got back to my apartment, I peeked inside to see what was going on. Day was crouched in front of my TV, fiddling with the Wii U to try and get Netflix going, Yova was standing between him and the door and Pam was on the couch. I brought Evain in, giving Pam a pleading look to not say anything. Then I tried to pick Evain up and slip him past the living room. I managed to pick him up easy enough, but the dumbass decided he was going to try to squirm out of my arms. I was trying desperately to fight him and keep him from making a scene, but he tumbled out of my arms and I ended up going over the back of the couch with him, ending up in a pile of feathers and bark, right as Day looked over.

“What the hell is he doing here?!” Day asked, standing up and glaring. I tried to explain how Stella had just dropped Evain off with no warning and I was just planning to have him sleep off the booze in my room. Day snorted and said, “Whatever. Just keep him out of my sight.” Evain was trying to figure out what was going on and what we were celebrating. “It’s Pam’s birthday. Well, belated birthday,” I told him. “Oh. Happy birthday,” he told Pam. “Thank you!” she said.

I got Evain settled in the bedroom and got a glass of water for him. Day went out on the balcony to sulk with a platter of noshes and a beer. Paisley, sweet girl that she is, went out to sit on his shoulder and nuzzle him. Around this time, Yova noticed that there was a scrap of fabric wedged in between the couch cushions where Evain fell and she pulled it out. She and Pam both saw it was a tarnished silver bell tied at the end of a red ribbon. Pam, as you might imagine, was pretty keen on trying to find out where Evain got this, given the vision she saw earlier. She and Yova marched into my room just as I was about to head back out.

Pam asked Evain if the ribbon was his. As soon as he saw it, he about leapt over the side of the bed to grab it and shove it in his pocket. All he admitted was that it was a keepsake, but when I asked him if it had to do with why he was upset (and Yova leaned on him a bit), he wasn’t able to keep it together. “It’s all I have left of my baby girl. When I got back, I was at Wal-Mart. Trying to buy some clothes or something, I don’t even remember. And I saw her on a missing person poster. I went to her foster parents’ house and found that ribbon out in the back yard.” He told us that it was perfect that we were having a party, because the day before would have been his daughter’s twenty-fifth birthday. We were quiet for a moment, but then Pam told us about the vision she had. It seemed like it was way too much to be a coincidence.

I pulled out the refurbished laptop I’d bought off Craigslist and started trying to find any significance of red ribbons and silver bells. At first I thought about looking at fairy tales and trying to see if there was anything there. But then I stumbled across an old forum that was attached to an online game designed for pre-teens, like Neopets.

…shit. I just remembered my Neopets.

Okay, back. They were happy to see me, which is always good. Anyway, the forum thread I found was actually pretty creepy. It was for kids who were having some trouble, either because their parents were going through a divorce or they were in foster care, or something else was causing them some pain at home. The post that caught my eye was one that told other kids about a ritual where if you take a white silk ribbon and soak it in your own blood, put a silver bell on it, and ring it before you go to sleep, it will start a spell that can bring your parents back.

When I finished reading that out loud, I looked up and the other three all had the expression of horror that I’m sure was on my own face. Evain was visibly agitated and Pam started texting her Fetch on red alert. The two of them quickly started planning how they might help Pam’s daughter. At least, Evain was offering some ideas – when he tried to get up, he winced and fell back on the bed. “Listen, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but the one of us who’s probably going to be the best at figuring out how to get to the bottom of this is Day,” I told Evain. He gave another one of those unpleasant laughs and said, “Oh, that’s rich. It’s his fault she’s gone.” We asked him what he meant and he said, “If he hadn’t arrested me, she would never have been in foster care.” Yova and I exchanged a flat look and we stepped out. “You know, just when he had me feeling sorry for him…” she said.

Pam told Yova and me that she would take care of Evain in the meantime, which meant Yova and I had to go convince Day to help us figure this out. I cut a giant slice of cake and put a couple scoops of ice cream on it and Yova grabbed a new beer out of the fridge. Yova sidled out onto the balcony and held out the beer while I held out the plate from inside the apartment (I wasn’t going to trust that ancient balcony to hold three people on it). He took one look at us and said, “Ohhhh, no. Nope, I am not taking any bribe to help him out.” Yova and I exchanged another look. “It’s not Evain we’re asking you to help…” Yova began. “It’s Pam,” I finished. That got his attention.

We went over the vision Pam had, the ribbon Evain had found where his daughter last lived, and the forum post I found. Day grabbed the cake from me and unhinged his jaw, swallowing it all in one bite. “I’ll do it, but just to help Pam,” he said. Yova looked pleased as punch and I barely got out, “It took me six hours to make that cake. Six. Hours.” “And it was well worth it,” Day said with no small amount of glee. “You didn’t even taste it! It just went straight down your gullet!” I said.

While Day and I were bickering over the etiquette of not chewing the cake your host proffers, Pam managed to get in touch with her Fetch. The Fetch said she’d confiscated the ribbon, but found something burned in an ashtray in Sierra’s room that smelled like rosemary. Pam told her Fetch about the ribbon and they agreed to keep each other filled in on everything. (A few days later, Pam got an envelope from her Fetch filled with clippings about the things that those teenagers get up to these days, don’tcha know.)

Yova suggested that we go talk with the Autumn Court about it, which was definitely the best idea any of us came up with (we won’t mention who came up with the suggestion of finding a kid in foster care and trying out the ritual with that kid). I texted Stella to let her know that we were on our way and that Evain was sleeping off the drink. I held out my hand to Paisley and told her, “Come on, girl, we’re going on a field trip.” She flittered up and settled on my shoulder with delight. I gathered everybody in my bathroom and cut open my finger, smearing some blood on the mirror. I activated my Mirror Walk contract, the same one Evain did when he took me to the Autumn Court’s lodge in the first place. The four of us linked hands and crawled through the mirror, coming out in the foyer of the lodge.

I have to admit, I felt pretty proud showing off the place to my motley. It was the first time any of them had been there and I could see they were impressed, even Day. I gave them a brief tour on the way to the library. Once there, Day, Pam, and I hit the stacks, trying to track down anything that we might be able to find about any ritual or creature that sounded like this. Yova, however, decided that turning on the charm was the right course of action. She turned the full force of her schmoozing onto Marigold, a mousey Darkling intern with Coke bottle glasses who I’d seen before but hadn’t been introduced to. Marigold was absolutely taken with Yova and Yova slipped Marigold her number, promising to take her out for coffee if she could help us with our research problem.

Marigold took Yova directly over to the stack that Day was already thumbing through. With the five of us working together, it wasn’t long until we managed to find an older file labeled “The Shepherd of Lonely Roads.” It was dusty as hell and had obviously been there a while without anyone touching it. The name of the changeling who’d compiled the report was “Creighton,” which I didn’t recognize. The file said that the Shepherd was an unknown creature – it could be fae, goblin, hedge ghost, nobody was sure. Surprisingly, the file said that the Shepherd didn’t seem antagonistic and did show some degree of empathy.

The problem we came across was that all of the information in the file was secondhand. The Shepherd only dealt with children, and even though the first portion of the rules for summoning it were in the file, nobody in the Autumn Court who’d tried was able to get it to reveal the rest of the summoning spell. What we learned was that the ribbon had to be soaked in the blood of the person wanting to summon the Shepherd and left out to dry in the full moon. You were to then tie the bell to it, hang the ribbon over your bed, and ring it once before going to sleep every night for seven nights. Some Autumn courtiers had managed to summon the Shepherd on the second night, but it always refused to answer any questions or deal with them in any way; it claimed it would only come to children who need it.

After we got that info, we talked about what we might do. Pam suggested that if it dealt with children who were missing their parents, it might be willing to at least talk to a mother who was missing her children. We figured it couldn’t hurt to try the ritual and went back through the mirror to my apartment. Evain was sitting on the couch in the living room, looking a little better, and I saw there was some food and cake missing. He thanked me for letting him crash and got up to go. Before he did, I asked him if he wanted us to help him find the picture. He says that the picture itself wasn’t anything special, just the last missing persons poster. “As long as it was up there, I figured there was somebody who still cared about her and wanted her to come home,” he said. I thought for a second and told him we could probably pull up the missing poster online and print out a copy for him to have. I went in my bedroom and got my laptop, then pulled up Google. “Okay, so what’s your daughter’s name?” I asked him. He took in a breath and said, “Cassi. Cassi Rodriguez.”

I about fell off the back of the couch where I was sitting, and from the look on Pam, Yova, and Day’s faces, they felt the same. “Um, Cassi with one I?” I asked. “Yeah,” Evain said. Yova asked, “Was her favorite movie Cinderella?” “Yeah… okay, this is getting creepy,” Evain said, looking at us with slightly narrowed eyes. “Um. Well, the good news is she’s still alive,” I said. “SHE’S WHAT?!” Evain asked, stumbling. “The bad news is she’s the right-hand changeling to a changeling gone mad with power who’s fighting the True Fae,” Yova said.

We explained to him how we knew Cassi and Yova brought us upstairs to her apartment where she’d kept the poster she’d taken with Cassi’s image on it (I did mention Yova lives in my building, right?). He took the frame and stared at it for a minute before he put the whole thing in his pocket. I could tell Yova wanted to protest, but she decided against it. I was mostly looking around at the antique shop that had thrown up in her flat and asked her, “Yova, when did you get all this crap in here? I live downstairs!” She gave me one of her damnably zen smiles and said, “Sunday is for DIY.”

Evain looked like he was feeling a lot better and told us he was going to go home and get drunk, but to celebrate the fact that his daughter was still alive and sticking it to the Gentry. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me,” he told us before he left. And, I noticed, he and Day exchanged a nod in each other’s direction. Progress!

With Evain gone, the four of us decided to try out the ritual. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before, but one of the benefits to becoming a changeling is that you become a lucid dreamer: you can basically craft your dreams into what you want them to be, and even enter each other’s dreams with permission. We made a quick pledge to all protect Pam’s dreams and I witnessed it. Yova produced a mostly silk ribbon from her sewing basket and I used my Trivial Reworkings contract to turn it pure white. Pam took it and a silver bell that Yova got out of her applique basket. She cut her arm and bled into a basin, then soaked the ribbon in it and let it out to dry. I went downstairs for some pillows and blankets and Paisley and we all set up in Yova’s living room, waiting to fall asleep.

The first night, nothing happened. We all got into Pam’s dream, which to be honest looked like Audrey’s fantasy home from Little Shop of Horrors. We mostly sat around in the living room watching old game shows on the TV and awkwardly attempting conversation. The second night, however, was completely different. It started out the same, with things nice if a little awkward, but then the television went weird. The Wheel of Fortune puzzle started spelling out “TURN AROUND.” When we did, we saw that the rest of the house was gone: it was just void left. A tiny, faint green light was coming toward us. As it got closer, we could see a pale figure stepping forward slowly and with every step a viney path appeared before it.

When the Shepherd eventually reached us, it looked almost translucent, a figure of indeterminate gender wrapped in robes and carrying a crook. It looked around to the four of us. It didn’t move its lips, but we could all hear in our heads, “I see no child here.” Pam explained the situation and the Shepherd suggested that she go to her daughter. “If you do that, she’ll have no need of me.” It told us that once things were set in motion, they couldn’t be stopped. It didn’t seem like the Shepherd was interested in causing any harm: it told us that all it did was create a path between the child and its parents, but it had no control of what happened once the child entered the path.

Pam asked if it had a lot of contracts open or started and it admitted that it didn’t. “You must understand that these contracts are how I sustain myself. I cannot break them because if I did, I would cease to be. If I cease to be, then I cannot help,” it said. When she asked what the child’s end of the contract was, the Shepherd told her that the children who asked for its help made it offerings: each offering has some Glamour, and when the Shepherd got enough, it could open the way. The opening didn’t require much Glamour, so it could keep the rest for itself.

Yova brought up the point that we weren’t sure if Sierra’s path would even lead back to Pam, since Sierra was adopted. She asked the Shepherd, “When you say you get them back to their parents, is it who the child considers their parents or by blood?” “It is not always the case that they look for the one to whom they are bound by blood. I promise a way for them to know the touch of their parents once more, and in exchange, they provide me offerings,” the Shepherd told her. Yova, against all logic, decided that trying to act all dreamy to the Shepherd to get it to help us was a good idea. It just looked confused for a second before it said, “Ah. Seduction.” Dammit, Yova.

Yova at least had the good sense to change gears and she and Pam both started talking with the Shepherd, asking it for help. Pam brought up her work with the foster kids she was volunteering with and started talking to it about wanting to help. It told us about some of the children it came into contact with and how they would share their feelings and worries with it. “Even if I cannot understand human sentiment the ways you do, I still feel like I am doing something worthwhile,” it said. It seemed to consider for a moment, then said, “I promise children a way to feel their parents’ touch. Can you give me that?” Pam asked what it meant and it clarified that if she could provide it with a touch that it could deliver to Sierra, it could do so without opening the path.

Yova had an idea about sending Sierra an invitation to a theater program for kids and that Yova could give Pam a spot as a volunteer. “Thanksgiving Break is coming up. I can put some feelers out. Kids from all over the country come to those camps,” Yova told her. Pam was completely overjoyed and hugged Yova tight. Yova asked the Shepherd if that would suffice and it told her it would, but that it still had to deliver a message. At that, I tore out a page from my journal where I was taking all of the notes and handed it to Yova along with my pen, telling her to engrave an invitation. She did so with her fanciest handwriting and Pam signed off, including a reference to a nickname she had for Sierra. The Shepherd took it and – seemed pleased? It’s hard to get a read on an extraplanar being, but it did seem to approve of what we were doing. It said it would deliver the invitation to Sierra and wouldn’t open its own way for her before it departed.

Shortly after that, we all woke up and Yova told us that she loved us dearly but that we had to get the hell out of her apartment. And so I think I’ll wrap it here for now. When next we come back, Bella’d recovered from her bout with the flu and you’ll find out what further messes we managed to get ourselves embroiled in. Until then, stay safe, and if an Ogre is coming for a party, may you invest in one of those giant ten-pound tubs of Cheeto balls.

[eksavestheworld]

Being A Teen Parent With Peter Parker Pt. 2

Peter Parker x Reader

Part 1

Part 3

Warnings:none

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

Ok so you guys end up staying at the hospital for a couple of days after the babies are born

And the whole time you’re there, Peter was holding one of the babies

Even while he was eating and sleeping he was holding at least one baby

Really, the only time he wasn’t was when he took a shower

Aunt Mae came by and almost cried when she held the babies

“Oh they look just like you guys!”

Violet looked more like you, while Skylar more closely resembled Peter

Tony shows up when they’re a day old with balloons and a teddy bear for each one

The bears were just as big as Violet and Skylar

Of course, Bucky comes to visit on the second day to take you guys home

He immediately shortened their names to a Vi and Sky and it kinda just stuck

Even through you insisted you could walk, Peter made you let him wheel you to the SUV anyway

Apparently Tony decided to come alone to bring you guys home

so Tony ends up driving and Bucky sits in the front with him

you end up in the sit behind them with Sky and Peter sits behind you guys with Violet

you guys end up to your floor and you breastfeed the babies before taking a nap after Peter takes them to hang out with everyone

no one comes to bother you because you just FRICKIN PUSHED TWO BABIES OUT OF YOU and deserve a long nap

after a while you wake up and miss everyone so you deside to go down to the common living floor where everyone usually hangs out

as soon as you guys get there you see there’s a whole party set up with a home made “welcome home, Parkers” sign

Peter sees it and is like “don’t worry, you’ll be a Parker too soon”

apparently you were sleeping longer than you thought because both of your girls were knocked out in their little baby swing thingy

it turns out if was around 9pm, you guys go home from the hospitable this morning around 7am

so you could say that you slept well

after hugging everyone you decide to just curl up on a couch with Peter

but after a few minute the whole team gets called away on some mission

Peter doesn’t want to go, but he knows he has to 

he kisses each of you and you say, “come back to us.”

and he’s like, “I always will.”

as if on queue, the second everyone leaves, both Skylar and Violet just start bawling

you decide to have J.A.R.V.I.S. turn on some Panic! At The Disco bc they heard a lot of it in the womb, so maybe they’ll still like it

somehow, after like 3 songs, She Had The World started and they were immediately quiet and happy again

you decide to set them on the couch and take pictures because they’re soooo CuTe and are already wearing matching onesies with donuts on the stomach

VIolet fell asleep after that, so you put her back into the swinging bassinet 

Skylar was starting to get fussy and was clearly hungry, so you went into the joining kitchen to feed her while you found dinner

your heart warmed when you open the fridge and saw what everyone had done

they’d made your favorite meals and put them into tupperware containers so you just had to microwave them

you pull one out and heat it up before sitting on a bar stool by the counter to eat

by the time you both are done eating you’re getting tired so you take Skylar and Violet to your room, change their diapers, and put them to in your bed so they’d be closer to you

you ended up sitting on the bed watching Netflix while you fed Violet as she fell asleep

you guys ended all sleeping in your bed, so you made sure no pillows or blankets or anything could fall onto them and hurt them or anything

they next morning you woke up because you saw a flash and heart a click

it was Peter taking a picture of you and the babies in bed because “you looked so cute together sleeping”

then he tells you not to come to the kitchen for a while so you decide to feed the babies and get them ready for the day while you wait

Bucky ends up coming to get you from your room and has a blast carrying Violet on the way to the kitchen

you get to the common living floor and smell the breakfast Peter made you

you step into the kitchen with Skylar in your arms and almost die of laughter at the sight of Peter, Tony, and Vision in the kitchen with aprons and chefs hats on even though they just made waffles, eggs, turkey bacon, and turkey sausage

Peter immediately rushes over and takes Skylar from your hands becuase he’s been away from his babies for nearly 8 hours and they were only a few day old

you begin to eat breakfast with everyone

minus Peter and Bucky because they’re consumed by babies

Sky smiles at Peter so he laughs and starts whisper-singing the Spider-Man theme so….except he barely know the lyrics

“Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does what ever a spider can…and he swings from a wet, uhh Spider-Man”

Skylar’s happy anyway

then he goes and switches with Bucky and holds Violet

“hello there, how’s mommy’s twin doing, huh?

like her sister, she smiles at him and he smiles right back

it doesn’t even surprise you with how well he’s handling fatherhood and the babies

he just seems like a dude who’d be good with babies and kids

after breakfast and everyone gets their time to hold each baby, Peter suggests going on a mini tour of the tower so the babues know where they are

“Pete, babe, they’re infants, they don’t really know where they are, heh they can’t even walk yet.”

“well lets show them now, so they know where to go when the can walk.”

you each carried a baby while Peter narrated everywhere they went

“and this is the gym, don’t worry, we’ll teach you guys how to fight soon. we still have to teach you mommy first, though,”

“this is Tony’s workshop, we’re not allowed to play in here anymore. well, I never were in the first place, but I did anyways.”

“and this is our floor. we have our bedrooms and stuff here. when you’re older, you guys can have separate rooms, if you want.”

“finally, this is your nursery, and that’s you closet, and there’s the changing station, and the trashcan is right there and th-” “ I think they get the gist of it, babe.”

he he was too busy being a tour guide and hadn’t even noticed that both of the babies were sleeping already, but at least you were already in the nursery, so you just put them in they’re cribs

by this time, you were both pretty tired. you had been up with the babies last night, and Peter never even went to sleep when he got home so you guys went back to your room

you were still in you pajamas and Peter had put some on when he got home, so you both crawled into bed for a much needed nap and cuddled

and for the first time since the twins were born, you and Peter got some alone time

and Peter got all cute and red and sentimental

“I know that none of this was planned or anything, but I so happy it happened the way it did. Thank you for giving me our daughters and being so great to me. I know we’re young, but we’ve already done everything ahead of schedule and I just know we’re gong to be together forever. so what I’m trying to say is, (y/f/n) will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

by the end of his little speech, tears were softly running down your face

“yes, you goofball!” was all you said before kissing him and you both fell asleep for a few hours before Violet and Skylar woke up

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

here’s part 2! Part 3 has been posted. should I make a part 4?

want to be tagged? just ask me!

tags: (I tagged everyone who requested a part 2 for this. Sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged, just tell me and I’ll take you off.)

@bitterqueenofhearts @nerdypisces160 @scorpiostunner1027 @leya26khalifa @superheroabc

[ltdedngallery-blog]

THE BIG INTERVIEW / AUDREY KAWASAKI

(First Published 

AUDREY KAWASAKI HAS HAD AN ACTION PACKED FEW MONTHS – HER SOCIAL MEDIA PAGES HAVE BEEN PACKED WITH AMAZING PHOTOS FROM HER RECENT SHOW AT THE MERRY KARNOSKY GALLERY  (ALONGSIDE TARA MCPHERSON AND DEEDEE CHERIEL), THERE ARE ALSO THE OBLIGATORY PHOTOS OF BEAUTIFUL FOOD AND DRINKS, BUT HOLD ON! AMONGST HER BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK THERE ARE ALSO A NUMBER OF PHOTOS OF… WAIT FOR IT… NORWICH.

IN THE UK, NORWICH, UNFAIRLY PERHAPS, HAS SOMEWHAT OF LESS THAN GLAMOROUS REPUTATION. IT COULDN’T BE MORE DIFFERENT THAN AUDREY’S HOME CITY OF LOS ANGELES. SO WE HAD TO FIND OUT JUST EXACTLY WHAT AUDREY HAD BEEN DOING IN THE WET AND WILD FLATLANDS OF NORFOLK?

LTD/EDN: Hi Audrey, let’s cut to the chase, Norwich? Norfolk? What is going on?

Audrey: My fiance lives there!

Fiance? Wow, congratulations, that’s lovely news and explains a lot! So will we see a lot more of you in the UK? We’re not expecting Norwich to be the home to your next solo show, but how do you like Norwich, Norfolk and the UK?

I’ve visited Norwich a total of three times this year (with a fourth on the way), and spend a good amount of it exploring the surrounding Norfolk areas. I fell in love pretty much at first sight. Soooo unlike where I grew up in LA. Its’ like a fairy tale world really, with its history and old building and cobble stone streets, so much character. I was worried the cold and cloudy skies would be tough for me, but when walking through the city, you realize its very fitting, and all a part of the beauty of the landscape.

What are your favourite Norfolk hotspots?  Have you tried a Full English breakfast? And what about the Great British pint at a Great British pub? A fan?  

Yes! my first full English Breakfast was at this little place called House. it was amazing! You don’t hear people rave about English foods, but actually food standards are so much better/higher there. Fresh ingredients, even fast food places tasted and felt much better than American ones. Pub food is great. I’m not much of a beer drinker (more of a wine and cocktail drinker), but love the meat pies, fish and chips, bangers and mash. Indian food is also excellent there! I also love how cafes and coffee houses often have delicious sandwiches ready to go. The bread and cheese there is so yummy. Oh! and seafood! Cromer crabs! prawns! every other day I’ll get one of those seafood cups from street vendor/markets.

One thing Norfolk is famous for are turkeys! Will it be turkey for Christmas this year? Where will you be for the holidays? Any Holiday traditions?

I don’t do turkey much, but I did meet a Norfolk Black Turkey. he was magnificent. The low rumbly noise they make! This Christmas, hopefully I will be in Norwich with Rob, my fiance. It’ll be our first Christmas together. I’m very excited to experience the winter holidays in a cold place, looking forward to the cozy warmness, next to a fire place, with yummy hot foods and drinks.

This time last year we released your now sold out Limited Edition silk scarf ‘Under the Full Moon’, it found it’s way under a lot of Christmas trees! Is there anything you are hoping will be under your tree this Christmas?

Um. can’t thinking of anything in particular.

Can you remember what was your favourite Christmas gift when you were a child? Or the gift you always hoped for?

It must have been the Super Nintendo. My little brother and I were all about it. Mario, Donkey-Kong, Sim-Ant, Mario Paint.

So aside from getting engaged and your new found love of Norfolk, do you have any other revelations that might surprise us?

I can be a video game geek sometimes and my favorite book/audiobook setting is post-apocalyptic.

Video games? What type of games do you play? What are your all time favourite games?

I like RPG’s and first person shooter adventure games, with a strong story line. ‘Fallout 3’  can quite possible be my favorite, as of now. but then again, ‘Last of Us’ and ‘Dishonored’ were really good too. I also love city building simulation, building, managing, and growing.

And what post-apocalyptic books should we be checking out?

Hmmm, I’ve gone through so many, mostly audiobooks when working. I can’t really recall a specific one though..

Most sane people fully acknowledge that one day the Zombie apocalypse will be upon us, how will you cope? How are your survival skills?

In my head I’m a tough bad ass!! but in reality probably not so much…

I could never get sick of mysteries, ghost stories, and strange and creepy things.

So Halloween must a favourite holiday then?  We loved your Boardwalk Empire costumes in 2013. What was your costume this year?

I was Ramen Noodles! hand made, hand sewn with felt.  I think making crafty things may be one of my favorite past times.  (oh i love cooking too!)

Lastly one question about your work! What’s up next?  Anything you are really excited about?

No big solo shows this year, a few group shows scheduled for next year, and I will be curating a fun show in the summer at Giant Robot. I’m putting together a book of my works, hopefully that will be ready at some point.

Also, possibly attempting at my first mural painting!

Wow! Where is this lucky wall? Please say Norwich…

There’s a few talks here and there. will keep you posted, but no, not Norwich. I need to do a solo show in the UK though someday.

We need that too! Thank you Audrey and Happy Holidays!