#she shares a page with tom nook

[mystical-dorito]

drew the first barbie!

read the tags they're good

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 11

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years. Until his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3, or Patreon (patrons also get chapters a week early along with bonus content). If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, I do have a ko-fi! Or consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

Eve threw her bag over her shoulders with little care for the aging straps. It sat heavily on her shoulders. The bulk of her laptop and textbooks weighed her down and reminded her of the ache in her lower back that she had initially earned from work.

Her keychains rattled as they smacked into one another and collided with her pins and buttons. A Tom Nook hit a Secret Police badge. An enamel coffee mug was assaulted by a Master Sword. All the plastic clinked together, echoing her nerdiness to the empty room. If she cared enough, she would think of herself as cringe. But she had too many other things on her mind to consider when she crossed the line from cool geek to weirdo.

“Are you feeling any better about any of this?” Leo asked.

“Kinda.”

It wasn’t the right answer. Leo didn’t look pleased that they were only in the “kinda” stage. He was so good at math, he was probably annoyed that she was taking so long to understand anything. Every time he had to go over a formula with her again or correct her steps, she felt she was burdening him. Even though he didn’t outwardly show it, she knew she had to have been the worst person in his life at the moment.

Leo was always passive in their study sessions. He corrected her without any sharpness in his tone. He would slowly erase her progress and tell her to try again, not ever giving her the answer.

But he was staying late for her. He could have been back in his dorm or his apartment or wherever rather than running through the same math problems over and over, correcting her, and re-teaching her how to work through formulas and watching her make the same mistakes over and over and over again.

“Better than I was feeling about it,” Eve said, hoping that would help her win some favor with Leo.

“When’s your exam again?” he asked.

“November 1st. Dr. Felner took major pity on me.”

But she was still going to try to be nice to Leo. He was the only other student she spent so much time with, and she was starting to feel a little kinship with him.

About a week ago, she passed him as he was leaving a campus coffee shop. He waved at her and smiled, and his smile felt familiar. Like she had seen it before. It was something about how it brightened his whole face or how his teeth were so straight it was like he should have been in an ad for braces.

After that, she thought maybe there was a chance that he didn’t totally hate her enough to ignore her. But then again, anyone would be in a good mood at noon, holding an iced coffee compared to 6 pm in a stuffy academic center.

Leo, she was sure, was nice and kind. She just always saw him with dark circles under his eyes after a long day of his own shit.

He pulled his own bag on. There was the rattle of his own keychains and pins. One keychain, an old thing, popped off its chain and bounced off the table.

“Noo!” Leo cried, tone way too dramatic for the impression he had already left on Eve.

Eve stooped to grab it off the carpet and handed it back. It had been a clean break. The chain had fallen out of its little nook in the plastic of the charm. There was a glob of dried hot glue on it where it had been repaired before.

“I like your Charmander,” she said.

Immediately, Leo brightened. He put it in the center of his palm and held it out to her so she could get a better look.

“Thanks!” It was the most expressive Eve had seen Leo since the coffee shop. He smiled again, and Eve could not place why it reassured her so much. “I got him from a claw machine. I spent, like, 20 bucks to get him.”

“You spent 20 dollars on that?”

“Yes! Look at him! He’s so cool.”

Eve nodded along with him. It was pretty cool. It was almost chibi-like and stood up perfectly on its own. The colors were vibrant but overall a little off and basic. Charmander’s body was a little too yellow. The flame on the tail was missing some depth. It looked like it could be unofficial merch in any of the many bogus restaurants in the city that stocked weird games and even weirder prizes.

But Eve had finally found a way to get Leo to say more than a few words to her. She was going to pounce.

“Do you play a lot of Pokémon?” Eve asked.

“Yeah!”

Eve slipped her bag off one shoulder and swung it around. She showed him her Ponyta keychain. She had gotten her from some mystery box from some store in New Jersey over the summer. While she wasn’t particularly a huge fan of Ponyta, she didn’t have enough money to buy another mystery box.

Alex had said it was cool when she brought it back to his apartment at the start of the school year. Ponyta had some good attacks. He secured it to her bag for her, and it stayed there ever since.

“Dope. Ponyta is pretty badass, but I’m personally loyal to the starters,” Leo said. His eyes caught something else. He pointed to the pink and orange rainbow pin on the front of her bag. “I like your rainbow.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Does it mean anything?”

Leo looked at Eve so earnestly, and Eve wanted to assume that he was a good guy, that he would have no problem if she told him it was lesbian pride colors. If she wanted to actually get to know him, he would have to know her. At some point, she would have to let him know that she was gay.

But she still froze. She didn’t know whether or not she should avoid the question, make up some lie about how she just liked rainbows, or that it was a reference to a movie or the emblem of a secret society on campus. She could tuck her secret away and hide it away until later. Until she was certain she wanted to tell him.

“Is it a gay thing?” Leo asked.

Eve could hardly breathe. It was a mistake to have the pin on there if she didn’t want to be asked about it. “Yeah.”

“What kind of gay thing?”

“What?”

“Like. Is it a special pride pin for October? Like breast cancer? I think that’s cool if that’s it.”

Eve shook her head. Did he really think the gays collaborated on merch with breast cancer awareness organizations? Did he think that queer people created different pins as special, limited-edition collectibles? It was kind of a cool idea but a bit too capitalist.

Her brief panic was instantly over. Damián looked at her so earnestly. It was like staring into the eyes of a Labrador Retriever. A young, clueless Chocolate Lab.

“No,” Eve said. “It’s the lesbian flag colors.”

“No shit? Lesbians have their own colors?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s dope!”

Leo looked excited to be learning so much. Eve was startled by the sudden switch. Only a moment ago it was like he wanted nothing to do with her. Regardless, her anxiety had easily melted away. Leo was okay. They had just needed a little nudge toward each other. They just needed Pokemon and gay pride to come out of their shells a little.

“I’m an ally,” Leo said, putting a hand to his chest.

“I can tell.”

“My brother’s gay.”

“Cool.”

“It’s super cool. And I love lesbians, too.”

Leo turned off the lights to the lounge of the academic center. It was where all tutoring sessions took place. There was comfortable seating for the students, snacks and coffee, and fancy tables with whiteboards as tabletops. During the day, it was pretty busy if only because people were swinging by for a morning or afternoon fix of caffeine.

In the evening, once all the real adults who worked there clocked out, it was eerily empty. The high ceilings imposed some feeling the opposite of claustrophobia. Something that reminded Eve of nightmares of drowning in an ocean with no land in sight.

“I also love trans people,” Leo said.

“You love the whole alphabet.”

“I do! So much!”

Leo held open the door leading out of the building. Eve stepped through it and down the few steps right outside. The campus was still lively. The sun was just starting to go down, and everyone was taking advantage of the last few warm evenings of the year. Girls whizzed by on skateboards, packs of seniors were carrying hammocks to try to find someplace on campus to hang them and then pretend to study. Really, they were all going to update their Instagram accounts.

“I really am an ally,” Leo said. “My brother’s taught me all this stuff about Stonewall and stuff. Have you heard of Stonewall?”

Eve wanted to sigh, but she could tell he wasn’t trying to be condescending. He was genuinely interested in talking about it. “Yes. I have. It’s pretty well-known among us gays.”

“I think it’s great. Throwing bricks and shit at the cops,” Leo went on. “I’d throw a brick for the LGBT community.”

“We’ll have to meme that. ‘Leo threw the first brick at Stonewall.’”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to take credit away from a black trans woman.”

Eve turned around. She was about to tell Leo that he didn’t have to worry. She was almost certain their meme would be harmless. It was like an inside joke with the LGBT community that she’d let him be in on.

But before she could say anything, she looked past Leo and at the picnic benches on the front lawn of the academic center. A group of boys sat at the one closest to her and Leo. They had textbooks out in front of them but were clearly not reading them.

Eve had a class with them. Though, that class was so big she didn’t know their names or anything about them besides the fact they usually sat a couple of rows ahead of her. She was one of the few girls in that class. Every day, they looked at her. At first, when they waved, she waved back. But as the semester went on, they’d look back at her and laugh and turn to one another.

It was hard to tell why they did all that. They could have been harmless, and Eve wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. It could have been playful teasing. Playground, recess-type stuff a parent or a teacher would brush off with just, “That just means he likes you.”

They watched her wait on Leo. She didn’t look directly at them but could still see them out of the corner of her eye. She stared straight ahead, grabbing the straps of her bag tight.

Leo joined her, gave her a look, and then turned towards the boys. When Eve started to walk away, the boys started shifting around in their seats.

It was probably nothing. They were probably just getting up to go back to their dorms. But Leo sidled up close to her, his Chocolate Lab eyes shadowed.

Leo towered over her. When they first met, she thought that he must have been an athlete on campus. He had to have been over six feet, making him a solid foot taller than her.

“Where do you live?” Leo asked Eve.

“Off-campus.”

He took her arm and pulled her down the sidewalk. “Do you live far?”

“No. It’s in walking distance.”

“I’ll walk you there.”

“Thank you.”

It wasn’t until they were on the edge of campus that Eve started trembling. She was reminded of all the times she had made it back to Alex’s apartment in tears, her phone in her hand, finger ready to dial Alex’s number.

It truly sucked how much power men had. They could make her feel unsafe, terrified even. Or, if they cared, they could protect her. Like Leo was doing. The only thing that could stop a man was another man. Even Alex, who was not at all intimidating with his stocky build and baby face, could ward off creepy comments just by standing next to her.

The whole thing burned her up inside, but all she could think, walking through the city, was that she was lucky Leo was one of the good ones.

“How are you liking your other classes?” Leo asked.

“They’re fine. It’s just calc that I’m struggling with. I don’t get why I even need to take it.”

“It’s not a bad thing to be well-rounded.”

“I guess not.”

“And math is more than just math. It teaches you how to deconstruct problems before you solve them.”

They walked for a while longer, their conversation dying. Eve eventually calmed down. She was thinking about what she was going to make for dinner, whether or not they had pasta or something frozen she could shove in the oven. Alex was always nice and made sure, whenever he did the shopping, that he picked up things that she liked and could cook with her limited culinary talent.

“You know, I’ve never seen you around campus before,” Leo said.

“It’s a big campus.”

“True.”

“And I’m only a sophomore. You’re a senior.”

“Yeah.”

Eve led him around a corner. He kept close as people walked past. An old woman walking her tiny dog. A couple in matching beanies. The least intimidating the city had to offer.

They passed a bookstore with a pride flag in the window. The rainbow stripes and the triangle were prominent in the window. The flag was creased still from the packaging. The plastic-y material would never let the crinkles go until they were properly steamed out.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight anymore for flags to be displayed in businesses or outside homes or apartments, but Leo still stared it down as they came up on it, met it, and left it behind until his neck was all twisted around.

“Um, about the ally thing,” Leo said. “Do you know anything about the ally group on campus?”

“The GSA?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen some stuff about it, but I don’t really know all that much about it. Are you part of it?”

“I go to the meetings. Most of the time. They have a Twitter if you ever want to see what they do.”

“Like things they do around campus?”

“Yeah.”

“Do they do stuff often?”

“Every so often, yeah. I think there’s something coming up this weekend.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a queer author visiting. She’s giving a lecture or something.”

“Oh! I’d go to that!”

“’Cause you’re an ally?”

“Exactly! Will you be there?”

Eve hadn’t been planning on it. She had worked last weekend and the weekend before that. She had been looking forward to time to veg out on the couch. Nothing seemed more appealing than playing video games until her eyes were crossed and there was a deep ache in her sockets. And hanging out with Leo outside of tutoring was a drastic step to be taken right after their first real conversation.

But she found herself saying yes to Leo, and she found herself listening to him excitedly go on about how he was going to tell his brother he was going to a GSA event.

It was just a lecture—not that Eve meant to downplay the importance of their guests, but it was low-key compared to everything else the group did around campus. It wasn’t like their drag shows or their Friends-giving every November. It was just a thing to show up to when you didn’t have any other plans and were feeling something insightful.

Eve agreed to meet up with Leo there. She pulled up the promotional flyer from their Twitter account and got Leo’s number to send it to him. Leo asked how early they should get there, and she said it wasn’t like a movie premiere. There would be plenty of seats. They could get there a few minutes early and be fine.

Leo dropped her off at the front of her building and waited for her to get through the doors before turning around and starting off toward his own destination. No doubt, he was feeling pretty good about himself. Not only did he befriend a lesbian, but he was going to a queer lecture. Truly the ally they all needed, Eve thought.

[bellmo15-blog]

I've Lost My Passion For Writing

The title of this journal isn’t a joke. I have seriously started to lose my passion that I once had for writing.

I’m sure by now a lot of you have noticed I haven’t been writing any stories of any kind. Or at least anything substantial. You could say that those two stories I have shared about those really awkward plays I saw as a child or the only time I’ve ever actually gotten to play on a real Gamecube while in hospital count as stories but those are more just me retelling events form my past that have stuck with me. And there’s a good reason I haven’t been writing a lot. I’ve HAVE tried to write proper stories. About my OC’s, about fictional characters I like, but I always never get very far into it and sometimes just stop entirely or get distracted by other things I have more fun doing. And there’s a good reason for THAT two. I just haven’t been enjoying writing as much. It’s one of those things I have slowly been coming to terms with a lot recently. In fact the only long form things I’ve even managed to get written up the past few months have both been satirical and if you couldn’t tell from how I wrote those, my way of venting about how modern critics are obsessed with hyperbole and being overly angry and also poking fun at that “Nintendo has FORGOTTEN about Super Mario” video because nothing say’s Nintendo has “””forgotten””” a property like releasing so many games in that franchise in the Switches now almost 7 year life cycle.

To give you an idea of just how bad this has been, the last story about one of my OC’s I wrote was back in April of last year. It was a parody of the Peaches song from the Super Mario Bros movie but sung from the perspective of my girl Mikaela and she was singing about Nessa from Pokemon Sword and Shield as I do have the two in a relationship and loved that part from the film. And before that the last proper full story I wrote was in September of 2022 of Tom Nook from Animal Crossing finally being fed up with some people not paying off their loans at all and taking action tasking my sona Michael with collecting the debt from one of those residents who originally started as a joke OC I made for an April Fools day joke. That’s a pretty big gap to have as someone who is a writer which is actually why I originally tried experimenting with Micro Stories at first since they were only about like two or three paragraphs long and didn’t take much effort out of me. But even those I started to fall out of wanting to do.

So why have I stopped having a passion for something I use to love doing ever since I first started on DA? Well, it’s not for one single reason but actually a couple.

1; I’ve started to find it boring! No matter what I want to write, no matter how much I love the idea and no matter how much free time I end up getting so that I can do a lot of writing, usually about like 5 or 10 mins in I get board of writing and more often than not I end up thinking to myself “I would honestly rather be playing video games or watching a show I’ve been meaning to watch.” Plus, I can only write “this character said this” or describe what someone looks like or is wearing so much before I get bored.

2; Written work is something I’ve always struggled with anyway. I grew up on TV and video games and very little written stuff which might sound ironic coming from me but it’s true. I once tried reading one of the Harry Potter books as a child and I got one chapter in before thinking to myself “I’d honestly rather be watching the movie that’s based off this book.” Hell, I even tried reading the in game books in Skyrim but when I did I would always go “I’m spending my time in this game doing THIS instead of going on an epic and exciting quest?” The only time as a child I’ve ever read a book all the way though that wasn’t one of those ones that only had like two short paragraphs on each page and was like 15 pages long was in 2009 when a friend let me read an old Choose Your Own Adventure styled Super Mario book but that only because it was on a school trip, we were on a long train ride that took several hours and we weren’t allowed to bring our handheld games systems with us so there was practically nothing else to do. It’s a problem I have been trying to fix for many years and sometimes I do read stories on DA when I get the chance, but written works just always been something I’ve struggled with even as a child.

I mentioned before that this is an issue that my passion for this has been dwindling for a while and I’ve tried to find ways to get around this. At first it was writing little short stories to attach to my pics. I was mainly inspired to do this by the likes of other’s like IncredibleIntruder who like me is into hypnosis and especially belly dancing but also puts little short stories in the descriptions of the stuff he commissions and uploads to his page and still continues to do so to this day. I HAD experimented with this kind of stuff before coming across there content but it wasn't until I started seeing some of there commissions I really started to take my stories for my pics seriously. And I’d continue to do this for a lot of my commissions as well. Even if it was a pic the artist didn’t give me permission to upload like with that Symbiote Shantae and Rottytops pic I’d still write a story for it! And eventually, I just only wrote up a short synopsis of what happened in leading up to what we see in a pic in its description because I wasn’t having any fun with these stories anymore. Which again, sucks that I feel that way because I do think about this stuff a lot. Especially the pics based around my self insert sona, something I’m extremely proud to have created, because the whole reason that exists was born of decades of me having a hyper active imagination and always imagining myself actually in the worlds of the games I play, especially ones that let you play as customized characters such as Wii Sports Resort or Mario Kart Wii, and making up my own little Kingdom Hearts styled crossover universe but wasn’t just relegated to stuff belonging to a single property… And also the lore not being a headache to get used to.

For example, the pic of my sona becoming an Ankha Drone I had this whole story planned out while it was getting worked on of them walking into Ankha suddenly in their home on their island with two other Ankha Drones and would be the ones converting my sona into one of them. Then there’s the one of them in the coils of Naga Shantae which would have been right after an encounter with Risky Boots and both my sona and Shantae being very exhausted and Shantae offering some nice and snug coil hugs until we were both ready to head home. And the Techno Drone pic where the story would of involved them knowing about SuperTechno (the artist of that pic who’s sona turns characters into fembots) hypnotizing ladies into being his Fembots while still extending it to males, not being aware of the fact that many of the Fembots in Techno’s army were kidnapped, asking if he could allow himself to be a drone with one of the main reasons he wants this and allows himself to be hypnotized a fair bit is because of not having the best mental state, something I obviously am implying I sometimes have and this was my way of projecting onto them. Similarly, the Ashour Drone pic I got of my sona was going to have a story of them finding Shantae as an Ashour Drone and confused on why she’s the way she is which leads him back to Ammer (again, artist of that pic and who’s sona is a freelance hypnotist hypnotising willing people into being his Ashour Drones) and after looking into him and his drones a bit more offering to be one of his Ashour Drones for a similar reason to the Techno Drone one. Even my most recent pic of my Genie AU sona with Urbosa I tried to write a whole story of her originally finding the lamp and the two of them exchanging some dialogue before using hypnosis on her to influence her wish for a massage.

And yes, this applies to Mikaela pics as well. The collab I got with Violet Scales featuring both our OC’s I wanted to write a story of Mikaela stumbling upon a snake basket housing Jermisha during one of Mikaela’s erotic photoshoots as an explanation as to why she was already dressed in bedlah to begin with. The pic of Naga Mikaela mummified I wanted to write a story of her trying to surprise attack Eliza from Skullgirls to potentially add to her harem but backfiring and resulting in Naga Mikaela mummified by Eliza and coupled with some taunting from the 1000 year old Egyptian Vampire followed by her telling the Naga that she’s going to make a great display peace for her place. Even the pic of Naga Mikaela with Sharah I considered writing a story about her finding Sharah’s ring and putting it on not knowing that there was a cute genie girl inside and that’s how they met.

Hell, even writing this I struggled with doing and the only reason I pushed though was because it felt wrong to not have any new full-length stories without giving an explanation on why. Now at this point I’m sure a lot of you would be saying “Oh there’s an easy solution for this. Just use something like ChatBotGT or some other AI program to do the stories for you! Does all the work and gives you more time to do other things.” But I hope you NEVER fucking said that because telling me to use a style of generative content, which is notorious for being built of stealing other people’s work and passing it off as something ‘original’ just to get over my own lost desire to write is fucking stupid! Honestly, I think the better and more healthy option for me is to just stick with what I’ve been doing for the last few pics. Short descriptions and a brief summery that still add’s lore to my characters if needed. That might disappoint a lot of you who followed me solely for the writing but let me ask you this. What do you think is more important? Me forcing myself to slog though writing a story I’m not having fun writing and even if I do finish it my reaction will be more of a “thank God that’s over” reaction than any sort of positive one or doing shorter stuff that doesn’t take as much time to do and I know most people probably don’t even read anyway (sadly) so I can focus on what I enjoy more?

In fairness I knew this would happen eventually, because how many stories have you heard of creators who have lost their drive and motivation for what they enjoy doing? Need an example? How about Hideo Kojima who didn’t even want to work on Metal Gear Solid 4 originally because he just didn’t have the same passion for this franchise as he did once and the only reason he even agreed to work on 4 in the end was because of all the death threats he got from fans? Or how we almost got a new Jak and Daxter game in between the release of Uncharted 2 and The Last of Us but it ended up being cancelled because no one at Naughty Dog felt any motivation to make a new Jak game and they literally went “Are we really doing this because we want to or because of marketing reasons?” Or how about Geroge Lucas having to put up with so much hate and harassment from Star Wars fans though out the 2000’s just because of how he was telling the story that he created to the point where it just wasn’t fun for him anymore and gladly sold the franchise to Disney when offered without a second thought. (And before any revisionist historians try to comment “umm, no actually! That’s not it! Your just being a Disney apologist!” Clearly you don’t remember what George Lucas said in an interview one time before months before the Disney buy out. “Why would I make any more, when everybody yells at you all the time and says what a horrible person you are” anyone?)

So yeah, I’m sorry if this is sad news to anyone. But because I lack the passion I once had you really shouldn’t expect any new long stories for a good long while.

[themanicmagician]

Shipwrecked [2/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

Tom felt a knot loosen in his chest. Relief washed over him. Redd was awake and lucid, and feeling well enough to quip.

But then Redd kept talking.

“This is your bedroom?” Redd shifted, leaning his back against the mattress. He scanned the Spartan room, and his nose scrunched up in distaste. “It’s so....basic. Not your style at all.”

Tom hated the small speck of him that still yearned for Redd’s approval. He crossed his arms. “You’re hardly the expert on what I like.”

Tom’s words landed—he saw Redd wince—but the fox brushed it off, and changed tack.

“Where’d you sleep, then? Futon?”

“Couch.”

Redd patted the bed, and leered. “Could’ve shared with me. It’s plenty big enough. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Enough, Redd. You’re only here in my home because I possess common decency. Nothing more. As soon as your arm is healed, you’re gone.”

Redd clutched at his chest with his good arm, in mock agony.

“Oh babe, you can be so cold!”

Tom ignored him. “What possessed you to attempt to sail a ship, of all things? You don’t have any experience.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was simple enough to figure out.”

“Obviously it wasn’t.”

“Hey, the storm wasn’t my fault.”

“You could have died—and for what? Another stupid scheme of yours, no doubt.”

“I resent that remark. Scheme! Scheme, he says. I’m out here because I’ve developed a new business venture. The art on my boat is real.” Brief alarm skirted across his face. “Wait, what happened to my things?”

“They’re in Blathers’ custody.”

“That featherbrain can’t keep them. They’re real, you know. I had this whole plan. I was going to go island to island. Animals are so suspicious these days. They actually want to inspect the merchandise before they buy, can you believe it?”

“I don’t want to hear about this.”

Redd plowed on, as if Tom hadn’t spoken. “—and once they placed an order, I’d say oh, you can’t take it right away. I have to ship it to you.”

“And you’d mail them a fake.”

“I’d mail them a replica. The copies that I paint myself are flawless,” Redd bragged. Greed and delight glinted in his eyes. “You’d never be able to tell the difference. I’ll wager you 5,000 bells your pal Blathers wouldn’t, either.”

“I can’t believe you,” Tom snapped. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Why tamper with perfection?”

“You—ugh!”

Tom stomped out of the room.

Timmy and Tommy were right outside, evidently listening in. They jumped guiltily as Tom caught sight of them, and tried to look busy; Tommy folded a blanket and draped it over the back of the couch, as Timmy collected up used cups to put in the kitchen sink.

“I’m going out for a bit.” Tom told them, as he pulled on a jacket. “Stay here, and make sure he does too.”

The Nooklings chirped an affirmative.

May was cold and rainy this year, and today proved no different. Tom zipped up his jacket to ward off the worst of the chill. It was misting out, but not badly enough to justify an umbrella.

Tom didn’t have a destination in mind, exactly. He wasn’t going to Resident Services today. Isabelle was certainly capable of taking the reins for a day or two. Tom just needed fresh air, just needed to clear his head.

Redd hadn’t changed at all. He hadn’t grown, he hadn’t learned anything. He was still the same as he ever was—greedy, selfish, conniving. And utterly, absolutely, insufferable.

There had been moments, before, when he had lived on the mainland, when Redd frequented his town. He’d considered reaching out. But he’d never scraped up the nerve to do so. It wasn’t his responsibility either, he’d reasoned at the time. Tom was the wronged party. Redd should have been the one to approach, not him.

And now the decade-long silence between them was shattered at last, and Redd acted as if there had never been a massive fracture in their relationship, as if nothing at all had changed. No apologies, no remorse, not even a thank you for the rescue.  

“Mr. Nook!” Flurry trotted up to him. “I’ve heard the news. How is your friend doing today?”

He supposed there was no hope of keeping it quiet. Any speck of news spread through Bastion like wildfire. Isabelle, bless her heart, was an incorrigible gossip.

“Redd is doing much better today, thank you.”

“I wanted you to give him something from me. Just to borrow, powderpuff!” She took out a book from her pockets and handed it over. It was an old leather-bound book, a collection of fairy tales. It was worn with age, but evidently well cared for. “I don’t know if it’s to his taste or not, but I always read it when I’m sick and it cheers me right up!”

“Thank you, Flurry. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Redd wouldn’t, but Tom would never let the sweet hamster know that.

He continued his walk, and soon found himself on the beach. He followed the shoreline around the island until he reached the outcropping of rocks by Del’s and Lucha’s houses.

Tom knew what to expect, but the sight was still jarring. The hull of the boat was gouged on the rocks. Half of the vessel gaped open. The mast was snapped off at its base, and the sail, long lost to the tides. Tom stepped on the rocks to get a closer look. The remains of the boat had been secured to the rock by rope; Alex and the others, presumably, had been the ones to anchor it.

Tom peered inside the exposed hull. The boat was tilted at an angle. Barrels had rolled to one end of the ship. Several had smashed apart in the impact. Tom winced. How badly had Redd been thrown in the crash? Had he been above deck, or below?

There didn’t appear to be anything of value left inside the ship. The villagers had done well removing all the fragile artwork.

Enough of the boat remained that they wouldn’t have to build Redd a new boat from scratch, at least. The boat would have to be patched up for Redd to travel. The seaplanes weren’t built to transport someone from Bastion all the way out to the mainland.

Tom swept a critical eye over to the wreckage. Yes, they could rebuild it in several weeks, once the necessary supplies were gathered. He resolved to speak with Alex about it. If she could gather the needed materials, he’d reduce the price for her attic expansion as compensation.

He returned home with the intention to cook breakfast for the Nooklings and their guest. But as he removed his shoes in the entryway, he overheard Redd’s drawling voice. And the twins were conspicuously absent from the living room. He padded quietly over to the threshold of his bedroom.

The first thing Tom noticed was that Redd was now wearing one of his spare shirts. The floral patterned green and white flattered the fox’s fur. It was a size or two too large on him, and not his usual type of outfit. Something warm and possessive tightened in his stomach at the sight of Redd wearing his clothes.

Redd was back in bed, propped upright with the support of pillows. Timmy and Tommy were sitting on the bed as well, listening raptly to their guest. Redd was in his element as entertainer, gesturing enthusiastically with his unbroken arm as he spoke.

“...it was our third pitch of the day. Tom had persuaded me to paint wallpapers for high-end clientele, so the meeting was at this real swanky place. Very stylized lobby we waited in, minimalistic in style but in an expensive way, you know? Your Uncle Nook was sweating so much his fur looked a shade darker than normal. We were sitting there, waiting for half an hour after our appointed meeting time. And finally, finally, someone shows up. It wasn’t even the investor! It was some scrub, some assistant of an assistant. Tom was so nervous, he promptly bent over and spewed his lunch all over her expensive shoes.” Redd laughed.

Tom flushed. It hadn’t been his finest moment.

“But then, do you know what your uncle did?” Redd whispered, conspiratorially.

“What, Mr. Redd?”

“...Redd?”

The boys leaned in closer, eager not to miss a single syllable.

“Tom still managed to salvage the situation. He went right from wiping off her shoes to pitching her a new concept—scented wallpaper. Smells like lemon, pine. So if something like this happened again, at least no one would smell it!”

“Wow! Did they invest?”

“...vest?”

“Even better—they bought the concept and patent from us. All the reward, with none of the work!”

“Boys, wash up for breakfast.” Tom broke in.

The twins broke into beaming smiles at the sight of him. They sprang off the bed to crowd Tom, both talking a mile a minute.

“Uncle Nook, is it true that you won a manufacturing contract by arm wrestling the CEO of Cozy Couches?”

“—did you really start a new city fashion trend wearing your scarf as a belt?”

“—have three drinks named after you?”

“Redd likes to embellish.” Tom explained, exasperated. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

Redd pouted.

Once the boys reluctantly filed out of the room, Tom shut the door. He crossed over to Redd and offered him the book of fairytales.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.” Redd inspected the book. He grimaced at the faint mug stain on one of the pages. “Not a first edition. Far from excellent condition. You  really  shouldn’t have.”

Tom grit his teeth. “It’s not from me. A villager has loaned it to you. If it goes back to her with so much as a dog-eared page…”

“Alright, sheesh. Just messing around.” Redd set the book on the bedside table, evidently uninterested.

“Listen to me, Redd.” Redd looked up in surprise at Tom’s low, serious tone. “You cheated me. You deceived Lyle. But if you think—”

“Hey, Lyle wasn’t—”

“If you think,” Tom spoke over him. “For one second, that I’ll allow you to manipulate Timmy and Tommy, you’ve got another thing coming. I have resources now. More bells in the bank than you’ll ever see. If you ever hurt them, I’ll make you regret it. Are we clear?”

The boys were guileless, innocent. He would not stand for Redd swindling them.

Redd deflated, his previous energy visibly dimmed. His ears flattened back on his head. He looked away from Tom, and nodded.

~*~

“Where are we going?”

“Like I told you the last twelve times you asked, it’s a surprise.”

“I’m going to trip on the sidewalk and break my nose.” Tom grumbled.

“You won’t.” Redd promised, with a rumbling laugh. “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It had been six months since their first meeting, in that sketchy motel. Ever since, they’d hardly left each others’ company. Tom’s ambition was to build a furniture and home goods store. It would be unique in its approach, in that stock would be limited, and rotate daily, so animals would feel compelled to go to the store every day, just in case there was something they needed. Redd, an entrepreneur himself, was on board. But before they could begin such an enterprise, they needed bells, and loads of them. They’d taken the past half a year to build up their finances together. They’d done so not through conventional jobs, but through countless pitch meetings, patent sales, and even art commissions. They’d amassed enough now that their dream was looking more achievable by the day.

Tonight Redd had tied a black bandana around Tom’s eyes and led him from their apartment. Tom’s heart was doing somersaults in his chest throughout their entire walk. Redd had been furtive, secretive the entire past week. He’d been planning something, and Tom had a big hunch on what it could be.

“We’re here.” Redd announced, at long last. He unknotted the bandana. The cloth fell away from Tom’s eyes, and he gasped.

It was an older two-story building, wedged in between a pair of larger, newer ones. It was built of ruddy red brick, with floor to ceiling windows for display purposes. Tom glanced around. They were in a nicer part of town. Not the wealthiest neighborhood by any means, but one fairly busy, that had animals with bells burning holes in their pockets.

“It’s ours.” Redd withdrew a keyring from his pocket. “If you like it.”

“You—how?”

Redd winked. “I have my ways.” He held out the keys and gave them a shake. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

Tom took the keys with reverence. He felt as if he were drifting through the clouds as he glided to the door. The front door key was newly cut, firm in his palm. Tom unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

“The register could go here.” Tom circled around the corner of the back wall, nearest the door. He paced around the cavernous empty room, imagining as he went. “Heavier furniture in the back as well. Some eye-catching, lighter things near the front that can be rotated daily. Things like wreaths, tapestries—oh, and what if we hang strings of lights from the ceiling? It’d create a real welcoming, homey look.”

He turned back to Redd for his input. His face was flushed with enthusiasm.

Redd had been watching him from the doorway with a complicated, unreadable expression.

Tom’s grin faltered. “Redd?”

The strange look fell away from Redd’s face, replaced by his customary smirk. He sauntered closer.

“Your instincts are excellent as always, Tom. I was thinking of a mural, too, for the back wall.”

“Oh, that’d be great! What are you thinking? A city skyline? Or something more nature-inspired?”

Redd’s arm slid around Tom’s waist with easy familiarity. His paw squeezed Tom’s side. Tom barely muffled his squeak. They’d been together for five months of the six, and Redd’s casual displays of affection still flustered him. Back home, no one had ever looked twice at the plain, chubby raccoon.

Redd’s muzzle brushed his ear. “We can hash out the details later. This calls for a celebration, don’t you think?”

~*~

The doorbell jingled overhead as Tom stepped inside the Able Sisters’ store. Sable took a single look at Tom before she was bustling him into the back room of the shop.

“Keep an eye out for customers, Mabes.” She called over her shoulder.

Mabel mock-saluted her eldest sister.

“Sit.” Sable all but pushed him into a rocking chair. He remembered this old thing from the sisters’ first home. The quilt draped over the back of the chair was familiar too, if a bit more threadbare than he remembered. Tom was struck by a wave of gratefulness that all of his dearest friends had been so amenable to picking up their lives and moving to Bastion with him.

Sable placed a gray kettle on the stove, and retrieved two mugs from a cabinet. The mugs were lumpy things, rather sloppily painted. Mabel had made them by hand when she was young. Tom had his own original Mabel creation stored in a cabinet back at his home.

“I wanted to speak with you as soon as I heard, but I had too many shirts to sew, I couldn’t get away. I know that’s not much of an excuse, though.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m handling everything just fine.”

Sable raised one eyebrow.

“I am.” He insisted. Redd had been subdued after Tom had warned him off about the twins. He ate the food Tom cooked without complaint, allowed Tom to check his injured arm without any protest, save the quiet hisses of pain he couldn’t quiet. They’d lived together in uneasy harmony for a week, now. Redd spent most of the day in front of the TV, or idly flipping through the book Flurry had lent him.

“How have you been?”

“Fine. Redd hasn’t been putting up too much of a fuss.” She was staring at him, too keenly. “What?”

She took a moment to muster up the words, paws twisting in her lap. “Tom...I don’t want to see you like that again.”

Tom waved his hand, as if to banish the ghost of that awful moment. “You won’t. He can never hurt me again.”

Sable’s doubt was palpable.

“I don’t care about him anymore. I don’t. And I...I used to hate him, I admit it. I used to loathe him. But I’ve moved on. I don’t trust him, and I pity him, but I don’t feel anything strong for him, hate or love, anymore.”

“You don’t sound as convincing as you’d like to be.” Sable said.

He was saved from having to respond as the kettle whistled. Sable rose to fetch their tea. She added the sachets, a drizzle of honey to her cup, three lumps of sugar to Tom’s—after all this time, she hadn’t forgotten how he liked it—and carried the mugs over.

Tom held his mug between his paws, waiting for it to cool enough to be drinkable. The pleasant scent of Earl Grey wafted up to his nose. He inhaled.

“If Redd tries anything, I’ll punch him in the nose.”

Sable, gentle, demure Sable, spoke with such a steely assuredness that Tom started. She smiled shyly at him.

“I mean it.”

“You’ll have to get in line. I have first dibs.”

Sable giggled.

~*~

Tom headed back home, feeling lighter than he had since this entire thing started. He and Sable swiftly left the topic of Redd behind them, and spent the better part of an hour catching up.

The boys saw him through the front window of the Cranny, and waved enthusiastically. He returned the gesture, albeit with less energy.

Tom then climbed the stairs and let himself into his home. Redd was no longer where Tom had left him that morning, slouched on the couch. The TV was shut off, the house almost eerily silent.

“Redd?” Tom eased open the door to his bedroom. The fox was absent, but the bed was neatly made. He checked the twins’ room, the bathroom—both empty.

Redd was gone.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

♫ Surfing on a soundwave, Swinging through the stars, Take a left at your intestine, Take your second right past mars!

On the Magic School smelly space bus! ♫

SPOILERS for Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #2!

This is a comic where, the longer I sit with a particular issue, the more I’m like, ‘yeah. Yeah. YEAH.’

It’s dense in a way that invites the reader to go through it multiple times, and rewards additional readthroughs.

Also, it helps that the art is FREAKING AMAZING.

Seriously. Evely and Lopes should draw and color everything, forever, always.

(I will honestly be shocked if they don’t get an Eisner nom for this book.)

Anyways, all of this to say: Another issue that I enjoyed. It has one of the most genuinely sweet Supergirl moments I’ve seen in the comics in a good long while.

So, if you’re looking for a quick thumbs up/thumbs down rating, thumbs up!

If you’d like some SPECIFICS, though...

THE STORY

King is an evil genius because we don’t pick up where we left off--rather, we start in the midst of the Space Bus journey.

There is technically a Big Action Scene, but I was honestly surprised by how...casually? the story progressed.

Essentially: Kara and Ruthye are forced to travel by bus because 1.) Krem stole Kara’s rocket and 2.) this corner of the universe doesn’t have the right stars, so Kara’s still recovering from being under a red sun for an extended period of time.

The bus makes occasional stops; they encounter a space dragon; Kara takes some Red Kryptonite and saves the day; they eventually arrive on a planet with a yellow sun. 

And again, all of this occurs with a kind of...breezy ease that I was not expecting at all.

I assumed that the space dragon fight would make up the final moments of the issue, after having built up the problem to a point where Kara needed to intervene.

But, noooope. The space dragon happens somewhere in the middle, which helps sell the central idea that this is simply Kara’s life. She’s been there, done that. She’s a badass who takes it all in stride.

But! Important to note! Ruthye still marvels at the sight of Kara taking out the space dragon, as well she should, because:

OH MY GOD. THE aRT.

There’s only so many times I can say, ‘it’s phenomenal, it’s gorgeous, it’s stunning’ before sounding like a broken record.

But it is. It truly is. This is the prettiest monthly book on the stands right now.

(Realizing I’ve been spelling Ruthye wrong this entire time, maybe? IDK. Apologies if I have.)

It’s in the final moments of the book that we learn what transpired after Krem shot Kara and Krypto and fled: Kara managed to get Krypto and Ruthye to a healer, and then passed out for a week. 

Ruthye and Kara recovered, buuuuut...

Krypto is still very near death because the arrow was poisoned.

The healer can’t treat him until he has a sample of the poison.

Which Krem has.

(See where this is going?)

So! Kara regains her powers! Ruthye has a super on her side! KRYPTO’S LIFE HANGS IN THE BALANCE!

Gimme. Issue. 3. STAT.

THE CHARACTERS

Very much enjoyed Ruthye in this issue!

There’s a really tricky balancing act you gotta pull off when writing child characters; you don’t want to just write them as tiny adults, but you also don’t want to be obnoxious or cloying in trying to write ‘true-to-age.’

King gives himself a bit of a cheat, by setting her up as a rock farmer from a...what would you call it. An old-fashioned planet? And thus the kind of character who had to ‘grow up fast’ and behaves more maturely than your typical pre-teen might.

BUT! IMPORTANTLY! This is tempered by placing Ruthye in situations where her (understandable) ignorance is challenged/put to the test. Like, yes, she is mature, and well-spoken, and utterly tenacious, but she’s also out of her depth, and still in need of help and guidance.

(Which is how we get to The Best Scene which I’ll get to in just a sec.)

TL;DR - this issue has really sold me on Ruthye as our POV character and I am officially Invested in the relationship between her and Kara.

Speaking of...

It’s KARA-CTERIZATION TIME!

So, okay. There’s some ‘eh’ stuff in this one, but, BUT!

We got the goods again.

And by ‘goods’ I mean this:

Whatever other nitpicks I have (and I do! Have one! Which I’ll get to!) THIS. This right here! This is Supergirl. This is Kara.

And what a beautiful line to introduce this moment:

“And it began--as most things begin when you’re dealing with Supergirl--with a moment of kindness.”

It’s the same gentle concern we saw in the previous issue, where Kara knelt down to address Ruthye eye-to-eye. 

Here, Kara’s facial expression, and the way she takes Ruthye’s hands and shows her what to do...

It’s just. SO SWEET.

Ahhhhh it’s so good. :D

So good! In fact! That the above scene offsets my one complaint, which is that Kara came off as harsh, IMO, when addressing the bus passengers, looking for Red K. 

Other good stuff from this particular portion of the book: we get Kryptonese (maybe? I think?) And a mention of Kara’s mother being strict about certain things, which is in keeping with the 2000s series version of Alura.

Ruthye also asks if Kara ever tried to avenge the death of her family/culture and she says no; Ruthye says that she heard a lifetime of regret in Kara’s response, which I suppose could be read one of two ways:

1.) That she regrets her choice not to avenge them, or 2.) that she regrets not having the option to avenge them, as there was no one person to punch, no single action that could rectify the destruction of the entire planet.

I personally prefer the second reading.

Which I suppose contradicts the recent-ish “Killers of Krypton” arc, but who knows what is and isn’t canon anymore, honestly. XD

As for the rest of the issue! I found myself thinking of a Grant Morrison interview, actually.

Morrison apparently met a Superman cosplayer at a con and that’s when the character clicked for them: “[The superman cosplayer] was so in the character, but what really got me was the way he was sitting. It was this absolutely relaxed pose with one knee up and the arm bent over, and that’s what broke Superman for me. Suddenly I realized that Superman wouldn’t be a poser, he wouldn’t be a Muscle Beach steroid guy; he’d actually be completely relaxed because nothing could hurt him. He could be so open and friendly to everyone because no one can punch him or hurt him. He can’t get a cold, or be damaged by anything you’re carrying or wearing. For me that was the power of that, whether you want to frame it as magical or not, it actually informed the stories I wanted to write. I felt I understood him in a way I hadn’t until that moment.”

That’s always stuck with me, the idea that Clark would be the most at-ease, chill guy you'd ever talk to.

And THAT, I think, is what we’re seeing here with Kara. That at-ease-ness.

But in a way that is distinct from Clark! In the above quote, it’s clear that Morrison thinks it’s Clark’s powers that are the reason he can be so relaxed and at ease.

But Kara is de-powered here. So why is she so chill?

Because Kara is an alien.

Kara’s in her element, here. She’s used to space travel, she knows the ins-and-outs, she’s not shocked by any of the weird stuff they encounter on their journey. 

Love it. LOVE. IT.

I am SO GLAD that King decided to go with Kara being the wizened mentor, as opposed to the naïve kid learning to be tough. It’s a much more interesting angle, IMO.

Also NO MENTION OF RIVALRY BETWEEN KARA AND CLARK. WOO. LET’S KEEP THIS ROLLIN’.

Alright, last, but certainly not least:

THE GOOD BOY! KRYPTO!

When I tell you I stress-read this entire comic first thing in the morning...XD

And I am STILL stressed. And a little sad that Krypto doesn’t get to go on another space adventure but! This is MIGHTY PREFERABLE to what I *thought* was going to happen, which is that Krypto would die from his injuries, and Kara would likewise be out for revenge. 

Fortunately, that is not the case! 

So like, the stakes?!?! Suddenly sky high. Find that dirtbag Krem and GET THAT POISON BACK TO THE HEALER!!

ART and MISC. STUFF THAT I LOVE

I generally don’t like to post entire pages of a comic, or panels without context, but the...reach? of this blog is extremely limited so. I think we’ll be okay. XD

So, alright! Some moments that I particularly enjoyed!

One of the panels that Mat Lopes shared early on! 

I want this lettered version on a mug.

(Also she looks very ’Grace Kelly-ish’ here.)

Love Kara’s facial expression and her line about space travel being more fun when you can fly.

From the same portion of the book--such a neat detail that Kara keeps her cash in her sleeve!

Another set of panels that I think Tom King shared a few months back.

Love Kara’s little smirk, and the, “I’m wearing a big yellow S on my chest, and a very fashionable red skirt.”

It IS fashionable. WE SUPPORT THE SKIRT, IN THIS HOUSE.

Also the slrrrrrrp. XD

It’s good.

Okay, 1.) VERY COOL SCI-FI DESIGN and 2.) that line is great. “Can you feel it, Ruthye? We’re getting closer. The stars are changing.”

Mmmm, them good cosmic Kara vibes.

Kara’s attitude about the Red K here is fun, like, ‘WELP, sometimes you turn into a monster, sometimes you don’t!’ but again, the line is what gets me.

“Did my hair move?”

“I do not believe so.”

XD

Honestly? I could post the whole comic here. Evely’s vision of ‘public transit, but space’ is just so immediately...not ‘real’, necessarily, because there’s such a fantastical element to it all, but it is fully realized. I think I used the phrase ‘lived-in’ and that’s it--this world feels like it has always existed; every grimy nook and cranny, every rando space bus traveler.

And Mat Lopes’ colors!

There are like, five distinct color palettes at work in this issue, and Lopes handles them all masterfully.

I think my favorite is the...I’ll call it ‘ethereal space aquarium’ lighting in the bus as they view the space dragon.

The glow and the shadows and the blues and pinks...

GGGGGGGGAAAHHHHHHHHHH so goooooooood

So, yeah. :D

I am very much enjoying this weird, wild ride with small, precocious Ruthye and wizened, crusty Kara. XD There’s some stuff that I don’t *love* but my goodness, it could be a lot worse!

Let us end on the beautiful title page:

[emptypringlescanister]

New Perspective: Chapter 3

Sorry for the late upload, i just finished finals recently so i’m trying to catch up on lost sleep. Anyways, here’s chapter 3 of New Perspective! See the end for additional notes and the tag list.

Tom Nook x Reader

Slow Burn

Warnings: Spoilers for Animal Crossing: New Horizons

Words: 1.8K

Links: Prologue  -  Chapter 1  -  Chapter 2  -  Chapter 3 (You are here!)

Any photos or gifs do not belong to me, Animal Crossing: New Horizons does not belong to me. Only my writing belongs to me.

gif originally posted by @k-eke

Animal Crossing: New Perspective

Chapter 3

             Despite last night’s events still ping ponging off the walls in your head, noting about the day seemed too out of the ordinary. The air was bright and crisp, and the fish were biting. Biting as though they might be starving because you just pulled your sixth fish out of the water with a mighty tug of your fishing pole. “Another sea bass…” the grumble left your lips as you slipped the fish into the bucket at your feet. The common fish usually weren’t too bad to catch, but it started to get tiring after pulling one out for the fifth time in a row. Your next cast into the water was interrupted by loud, cheerful shouts of your name coming through the trees.

           Two small tanuki children burst through the trees and crash into you; the sudden weight causes all three of you to tumble back into the water of the stream with a large splash. Sputtering to the surface and wading your way back to the bank, the kids have the decency to look shameful, but the hilarity of the situation sets in, and soon laughter fills the air. “Well now that we’ve all had our baths,” you gasp for breath through your giggles, “What can I do for you two?”

           Still breathless, Tommy managed to speak first. “Dad gave us three Nook Miles tickets for a trip to a nearby island and we want you to come with us!” Sitting up and pushing wet hair out of your eyes, you grin at them. “Well wasn’t that nice of him. Is… he coming too?” you ask hesitantly. “Nope,” Timmy says, “He said he has to do paperwork with Blathers today so he’s gonna be busy.” You nod to yourself; it would make sense since he was the head of the island, and would have to spend time taking care of important things like that. Unbeknownst to you, Timmy and Tommy share a look with each other.

           “Well!” you exclaim. “We better get dried off and get going then! No time to waste.” The boys squeal in excitement rush to help you bring your things to your tent and grab any tools you may need on your trip. Soon enough with their help, everything is ready and you all head over to the airport. “Hey Orville.” You greet the dodo behind the counter who snaps his book shut at your approach. “Hey hey hey! Welcome to your one and only gateway to the skies, the Avviare Airport! What can I help you guys with today?” Timmy bolts up to the counter and all but throws Orville the three tickets. “We want fly!” He shouts, almost visibly vibrating with excitement. Tommy is grasping your hand with his paw, but is bouncing in place, equally as excited as his brother. “Roger!” Orville chuckles at him. “Let’s get you all airborne then!” He takes the tickets and inputs the information onto the computer. “Dodo One, this is Dodo Tower, Wilbur, you copy?” He speaks into his headset, “Got some walkers who need wings, over.” Seeming satisfied with the response he gets; he turns to you all and nods. “Alright, you’re all set to go! Timmy and Tommy, can you guys tell me what you think when you need to travel?” The kids stare at him for a minute before Tommy pipes up. “What would dodos do?”

           “Exactly!” Orville cheers. “And for that Tommy, you get to board first!” Tommy beams up at you and you grin back, ushering him forward to the small hallway leading to the plane. Timmy follows, hot on his heels as they race to get good seats by a window. You share a smile and wave goodbye to Orville, following after the overeager little tanukis. Entering the plane, you greet Wilbur, who is occupied with convincing the kids to stop racing around the cabin and get into their seats so he could take off. “Timmy, Tommy,” you warn, giving them the parent look. That gets them to stop and they sheepishly take their seats, leaving one open between them for you. Wilbur shoots you a thankful glance and starts up the plane. Take off is smooth and soon enough you level out in the sky.

           Tommy settles down and snuggles into your side, lulled by the humming of the plane and the low lights of the cabin. Timmy occupies the time by asking questions about the island you would be visiting for the day. He was very curious about what different bugs and flowers would be on the island, as well as different fish that may lurk in the waters. You entertain him and playfully make up different species of animals that may be on this island or even the next. He seems enamored with the idea and jots down each different thing into a little notebook he carried with him. He shows you some of the entries in the first pages and they are filled with detailed drawings and entries of some of the diverse bugs, fish, and flora around Avviare. “Timmy, this is amazing!” you gush, astonished by the amount of detail filling the pages. Timmy bushes. “Tommy does the drawings, and Blathers helps me with any information I may be missing. He won’t help me with the bugs though cause he’s scared of them.”

           “Blathers should consider employing you instead of your Dad,” you tease, poking him in the stomach. His giggles wake his brother, who sleepily lifts his head. “Are we there yet?” he yawns. Just as you look out the window to check, Wilbur’s voice crackles to life over the cabin speakers. “Alright travelers! We’ll be landing shortly so make sure you’re buckled up.” Checking your seatbelts, you all settle in for the landing.

 _______________________________________________________________

           “Wow!” you exclaim, seeing the natural unkempt beauty of the island. Its smaller than Avviare, but still lush with trees and flowers. Timmy races off and starts exploring immediately, notebook and pencil in hand. Tommy remains closer to your side, choosing to just look around instead. “Look!” he gasps, tugging on your hand and pointing over to an area across the river. A campfire is burning, and a figure can be seen walking around. “Come on, lets go see who that is,” you urge. One small vault over the river later, Tommy and you walk up to a brown and yellow tiger with a blue dress and greet her.

           “Hiii! Fab to meet you! I’m Bangle! Are you visiting from another island too?”

           “Hello,’ you greet back, smiling. “I’m _____ and this is Tommy. His brother Timmy is off somewhere looking at bugs. We’re from Avviare; we’re just visiting for the day.”

           “Avviare? Oh! You mean the brand-new island that just got settled! Word travels fast around these parts. Wow, that’s a big trip just to come hang out with me on this neat little island! We should get to know each other while you’re here!”

           You nod, eager to make a new friend. “Tommy, why don’t you go help your brother with his research? I’m sure he could use an extra pair of paws.” Tommy nods and quickly hugs you before running off to find his brother. “He’s sooo cute!” Bangle gushes, watching him go. “Are they yours?”

“Oh gosh no, you sputter, “They’re my… friend’s children.” Bangle nods understandingly. “They seemed to have attached themselves to you though. I’ve only seen little Tommy’s interaction with you, but I can already tell that they love you! How adorable!” You blush, but your smile widens with her words.

           Bangle sighs contentedly and stretches. “The only thing better than kicking back and chilling on an island would be… TO DO IT FOREVER! If I lived on an island, I’d be the calmest, chillest tiger pop star ever!” An idea sparks in your head. “Bangle, you could move to our island? We only have three residents including me, and it would be great for you and Avviare if you moved in.”

           “Ohmigosh, move to Avviare? Yesss!!!” Bangle gasps and squeals excitedly. “I could move to any old island, but this is way better since you’ll be there! You hear that world? I’m…-” She spins in a circle before doing a cute pose. “- moving to Avviare!!” You clap for the excited tiger who is now muttering about moving plans under her breath. “If you call Tom Nook, he should be able to get everything sorted out for you.” You send her the business number for Nook Inc as well as your number for her to call when she gets ready to move in. “Thank you so much _____!” Bangle gushes, capturing you in a tight hug. You wheeze slightly from the pressure but hug her back.

  _______________________________________________________________

           The day on the island passes relatively quickly after that and soon dusk is permeating the island. Pockets laden down with various things you had collected from the island, both you and the boys made your way back to Wilbur who was waiting with the plane. He chuckles when he sees your tired forms approaching. “Home it is then?” he asks, looking at you three over the top of his aviators. Timmy and Tommy yawn while you nod. “The boys have had a full day and so have I.”

           “Roger that! Climb aboard sleepyheads,” he teases. “Let’s get you all home.”

 _______________________________________________________________

             Adding ‘Child Carrier’ to your list of self-appointed jobs seemed on the table as you had one tanuki child held in each arm. Both were fast asleep, having passed out shortly after takeoff. Walking was a bit of a chore with the three extra bags you had to carry as well but waking them up was no bueno. When you came up to the sandy portion of the main area of Avviare, Nook exited the Resident Services tent to greet you. He opened his mouth upon seeing you carrying the sleeping twins, but you shushed him before he could speak. Nook shook his head in exasperated fondness and gently slid one of the boys from your arms into his as well as taking one of the bags. He motioned with his head to another nearby tent that housed him and the twins when they weren’t working during the day.

           Luckily you and Nook were able to put Timmy and Tommy to bed without them waking. Nook exited the text and you followed, but not before pressing a quick kiss to each of the boys’ heads. Zipping the tent behind you, you stand and stretch, joints popping with satisfying noises. “I take it you all had an exciting day?” Nook observed, watching you with amusement. “Oh definitely, it was wonderful. The boys did some great research and I managed to collect a lot of resources for here.”

           Nook nodded along as you both walked along the beach and you entertained him with some of the antics that went on throughout the day. Night had fallen by this point and the moon was out, casting soft light down. Crickets chirped and a breeze whistled through the island. Nook walked you back to your tent and you part with a hug. As you get ready for bed, you find a note in your pocket from Tom. “You look beautiful :) “ it reads, and you fall asleep, clutching the note close to your chest.

________________________________________________________________

There’s the end of chapter 3! This one is shorter than the other but took me a lot longer to write. My brain is kinda shot from school but hopefully ill have some longer chapters for you all coming up.

Thanks everyone so much for reading! If you’d like, go check out my other works on my page. My uploading schedule is a little inconsistent, but thanks to summer break coming up, I’m hoping to post maybe every other day.

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[runtedfiction]

A New Normal

A/N: quarantine fic *airhorns* this was originally tended for zutara day 4: celestial. is that a bit troll? i don’t know

AO3

*     *     *

A hundred days into quarantine, Katara caves. It’s a quiet Sunday morning, light streaming in through the windows. But an alarm goes off on her phone, harsh metallic rings breaking the morning silence, and she bolts out of bed. 

“Zuko,” she says. He grunts in response, and she frantically taps at her phone to unlock it. “Zuko! ”

“What.”

“I’m going to do it. I’m actually going to do it. Oh god, I hope this works.”

“Urgh.” 

“Zuko, wake up. I’m going to do it.”

He turns towards her and slides one eye open. Katara is pulling out her credit card and breathing hard and punching in numbers, and this is an awful lot of noise for what feels like 8AM.  “What.”

“I’m going to buy a Switch.”

“Oh god,” he says, closing his eyes. “Not this again.”

“Look, it’s actually going to work this time, I’m actually at the checkout page, it’s taking me to order confirmation--holy shit, it worked!”

“Congratulations,” Zuko yawns, syllables thick with sleep. He pats the empty pillow next to him. “Come back to bed.”

*     *     *

At dinner the next day, Katara shows him the shipping notification. 

“It shipped!” She’s so excited, and he can’t help but smile. “It’ll be here next Friday!”

“What games are you going to get?” Zuko asks, poking at the pickled cucumbers. “And let me know if I made these too spicy again.” 

“Oh, they’re really good, don’t worry. And Animal Crossing,” she says in between bites. “The one that everyone’s been playing.”

He snorts. “You’re going to play it for two weeks max.”

“How could you say that?”

“It’s true.” He shrugs. “Remember that sourdough phase? At least when you’re done with it I can get Breath of the Wild or something.”

“Shut up,” she says, stealing a cucumber slice from his chopsticks. “I’ll play it for a thousand hours. And the sourdough would’ve been better if you didn’t nearly kill the starter!”

“Ok, sure, sure” he says, skeptical. “I’ll order Breath of the Wild tonight.”

She pouts with a “hmph,” and he reaches across the table to grab her cheek.

 *     *     * 

Next Friday rolls around, and Katara works from the living room so she can keep her face glued to the window. 

“Slow day, huh,” Zuko asks in between meetings. She makes a face, and he kisses her quickly. “I hope your package gets stolen, and you have to see it.”

He darts away, laughing, before she can jokingly get her hands around his neck. When her package actually does come, he can hear her bolting out of the apartment. And just as quickly, he can hear her run back in again, probably for a meeting or something.

Her voice comes in through the door of their home office. “Yeah, these designs look great! Let me share my screen. People can see this, right? I spun up an Express app for a proof of concept, and I think that…”

She sounds slightly out of breath, and Zuko laughs before realizing he forgot to mute himself in his own meeting. Shit.

*     *     *

Later that night, Katara practically buzzes with energy. 

“Holy smokes,” she keeps saying. The game only has a few minutes left to download. (She bought a digital copy, much to his chagrin, but Zuko’s learned that there are some battles he’ll always lose.) “Holy smokes, it’s actually going to happen!”

“Are you excited?” He asks, his elbow digging into her shoulder. “Man, you really shouldn’t sit on the couch all day hunched over like that. It’s bad for you.” 

“I know, I know,” she says. “Oooh, right there, that’s good.”

Then the game is done downloading, and Katara grabs the controller eagerly. “Isla Yue, here I come!”

Zuko raises an eyebrow. “Isla Yue? What happened to Ember Island?” 

“I realized it wouldn’t fit in the character limit,” she says. “But it was a strong second choice--oh my god, look, it’s those little tanuki boys!”

 *     *     * 

For the next few weeks, Zuko wakes to find Katara gently tapping at the buttons on her Switch. He learns all about Tom Nook and picking weeds and how Katara wanted peaches as a starting fruit but settled for apples. Her store upgrades, she starts making waterfalls, and she even dresses one of her villagers in outfits that Zuko wears. This is how he learns about Sherb, and about how badly Katara wants Cherry as a villager (“we’d just vibe, you know?”).

She plays in between meetings, during lunch, and before bed. She resists the urge to play at the dining table or during their evening time, and for that, Zuko is grateful. 

“I’m losing you to Tom Nook,” he laments one night while chopping vegetables. Katara is manning the marinated meat on the stove--it’s Korean night tonight, and Zuko’s stomach growls with anticipation--and she laughs. 

“I promise you that you aren’t.” 

“I really am though,” he says. He moves to the sink to clean the knife and she turns around to kiss him on the cheek. 

“You aren’t. Plus,” she adds, “there’s going to be a surprise tonight. I’ll show you, I think you’ll like it!”

Zuko kisses the top of her head and wraps his arms around her waist. “Let me guess--you’re leaving me for Sherb.”

"Very funny, and I wish."

 *     *     *

After dinner, they sometimes watch TV, sometimes workout, sometimes read, sometimes try a random quarantine hobby. Zuko misses the gym, but it’s fun to use Katara for weight training, and it’s nice to save the membership money. It also helps that she turns up the ogling by a thousand percent when he pulls out the free weights. 

“You have no shame,” he says, breathless, after she jokingly pats his butt for the millionth time. 

“Keep up the work, champ.” 

“Do I get any rewards?”

“Yup, you get to play Animal Crossing with me tonight—there’s a meteor shower in Isla Yue.”

Zuko jokingly groans, and she smacks him once more for good measure. 

 *     *     *

Katara’s island is gorgeous at night, lit with paper lanterns and star fragments. She lets him walk around and catch a few fish; it’s the one part of the game that he’ll willingly play.

“Goddammit,” he mutters. “So many sea bass tonight, haven’t seen those before.”

She laughs, and continues to watch him make the worst catches he’s made in a while, before she grabs at his arm. “Wait, wait, Zuko, look up, it’s a shooting star! Press A, press A!”

He looks up and presses A. Her character does an adorable little bow. “Did I wish on it?”

“Yup,” she says. “Look how cute, oh my god.” She places her head on his shoulder. “You can stay like this for a few minutes; they’ll come in groups.”

“Ok.” 

And they pass a few minutes like this, her head on his shoulder, both of them admiring Isla Yue’s sky. They’re in the middle of Katara’s flower field, and the lilies sway in the wind. It’s a full moon tonight.

“When,” Katara begins, hesitantly. “When do you think we’ll be able to see things like this again?” 

“You mean when life will be normal again?”

She nods. It was all they talked about in the beginning of quarantine, this prediction of when “normal life” would return, but now that daily life has settled into this rhythm--working from home together, cooking together, all the small things that go into sharing your life with someone else--he hadn’t really thought about it as of late.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Post vaccine, which could be next spring, next summer, next winter--it’s hard to say.” 

“I know,” she says, voice small. He grabs her hand with his free one, the other intermittently pressing A to wish on stars. “And I know that we’re more than lucky to have work and be happy and healthy, but sometimes I can’t help but think that it’s unfair and it’d be great if life were like Animal Crossing.” 

“I know,” he says. He squeezes her hand and kisses the top of her head. “Life’s unfair, but I’m lucky to have you.” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you.”

They play together for a bit more before Katara falls asleep in his lap, and he tucks her into bed. Days like this bleed together, but most of the time he doesn’t mind. Life is boring and the world is on fire, but she’s the best partner he could have in these times. 

Zuko doesn’t tell her this, but he ends up fishing and wishing on stars for the rest of the night. And he even begins thinking of personal wishes to accompany the stars. He remembers that Katara once told him that the game feels like therapy. She’s definitely right.

I want everything to be ok by next summer. 

I want people to be recognized for their full humanity. 

I want to be happy with Katara forever.

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Everything’s Gonna Be Alright

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Stark

Rating: PG

Warning(s): Mentions of Character Death, Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 2,235

Info: I entered @littledarlinhavefaithinme Sebastian Stan Summer Song Writing Challenge. I choose to do it based off of Lullaby by Shawn Mullins. So I loosely and I mean loosely based it off the song, where she grew up with Tony, and Bucky does quote my favorite line of the song at the end. Also big thanks to @coffeebucko for making my moodboard!

Synopsis: Bruce snaps everyone back into existence and Thanos is gone. 5 years have passed and many things have changed for Remedy Stark, she’s an older sister, her dads gotten married to her mother figure and she isn't sure where she fits in it all.

Remedy Stark was born at the tail end of the ’80s, her father couldn't tell her much about how she was born but he could tell her about her mother and the story of how she was brought to him. Remedy could recount the story of being dropped off at her dad, Tony’s front doorstep by her mothers grieving friend. How Tony took one look at six-year-old her and cursed under his breath.

Remedy started showing her mutant abilities just a few months after she had moved in with her father. Tony had been working with some tools when he cut his finger open, feeling bad Remedy walked over grabbed her father's finger and kissed it. After telling him it was all better Tony looked down to find it healed with not even a scar left behind. That night they sat at the breakfast nook where Tony made Remedy promise she would keep her powers to them, and she did till she fixed Uncle Rhodey’s broken arm.

Tom Cruise, Johnny Depp, Bono, Mariah Carey, 2Pac, Elon Musk, Madonna, Michael J. Fox, Kevin Costner, Liv Tyler, Whitney Houston, Richard Branson, Steven Tyler, Bruce Springsteen, Celine Dion, and Leonardo DiCaprio were among the few who partied at the Stark mansion, getting to see Remedy Stark grow up. She learned to speak many languages, her best friend was an artificial intelligence named Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, or Jarvis for short, her father created, till she went to a private charter school.

Now Remedy, wasn’t as smart as her father, but she did skip a few grades here and there, graduating at the age of 14 in 2001. The same year Pepper Potts entered both her and her father's life, she watched them dance around each other in fawning, praying for the day when either her dad grew mature or one of them made a move. That was also the year her second mutation activated, all Remedy had to do was think of a place she wanted to be and she would end up there, unfortunately, it happened in front of both Pepper and her father. It became a family secret.

Years went by, she watched the only woman she ever saw as a mother figure dive in love with her father, while he became a superhero. Aliens it turned out were real, a frozen super-soldier her father spent his entire existence in the shadow was alive, assassins could have their own family and be a damn good friend, also Nazis it turned out were still around.

Being called an Avenger was pretty amazing, but what felt even more amazing to Remedy was saving lives. Fixing the wrongs in the world that you could. Remedy found a family in the Avengers. Wanda was someone who was her own and that could relate to the pressures of being someone with powers. Steve soon after the battle New York, became her best friend, a brother she never she wanted, along with Clint and Sam. Natasha, well she was another Aunt and another mother figure of sorts who brought along Bey. Bey was Natasha’s child, her pride and joy, but also Remedy’s best friend.

Turns out when you get shocked by Thor when trying to save a small nation, well it can awaken hidden powers where you can open portals. Soon everyone knows your secrets and governments well they don't care that you are a Stark, or that you save lives, they notice the fallout you leave behind.

Remedy knew Steve and her father Tony getting along was never going to last, they always had a fallout but they always came together in the end. This time Remedy wasn't able to foretell the destruction, Thunderbolt Ross would have on the group. Remedy left to go bury her Godmother Peggy Carter, then the next thing she knew she was a wanted fugitive.

Tony wanted her to hate Bucky, for killing her grandparents she barely knew, but she couldn't find it in her. It wasn't Bucky’s fault it was the men behind the controls. She could be angry at Steve for not telling her father but she could easily forgive him attempting to protect his best friend, she would do the same for Wanda and Bey.

When it was all over, said and done, T’Challa welcomed Remedy along Bey to lay low in Wakanda when they weren't trying to be vigilantes. Pepper would meet up with Remedy behind Tony’s back, updating her on her father as well as her godfather. Always going their separate ways with a hug and tears in their eyes.

Than Thanos happened and one moment she was assisting Natasha to get up after healing her broken arm, getting ready to open a portal, next she saw her body turning to ash before her very eyes. Next, she was standing between Sam Wilson, Bucky with Bey who was transformed into a Mammoth with both Princess Shuri and Spiderman on their back, as they were being portalled back to New York.

Remedy fought long and hard, the burning feeling in lungs, long since came a constant reminder she was alive. Working back to back with Wanda most of the fight, sending people her way, or defending Spider-Man, or well Peter, he had stopped to introduce himself and to apologize for the black eye back in Germany. Yeah, she could grow to like the kid and could see why her dad did too.

Seeing her dad again for the first time in what felt like forever, was crazy, especially when Remedy half expected him to yell at her, instead he hugged her. Remedy honestly couldn't remember the last time her father had hugged her. He held her tightly to the metal suit he had long lost his helmet it seemed, Remedy could have sworn she felt tears hit her scalp.

“You are so grounded young lady, I don’t care if you are 30 years old, you are grounded! No television, phone, no boys, we are going to have a long talk about what it means to be a vigilante and not talk to our parents.” Tony broke the silence that surrounded them, trying to make his daughter laugh, while she tugged him down to dodge a laser beam heading their way.

Remedy wasn't sure how long the fight even lasted but for her, it ended with her on Bey’s Polar Bear form a few yards away from Bruce Banner who was in possession of the gauntlet. Bruce snapped and the next thing she noticed was the aliens they had been fighting were turning to dust. Thanos was defeated and all of a sudden it felt like a weight was lifted off their shoulders. Exhaustion hit Remedy hard and it was expected so the last thing she remembered was the white fur, hitting her face before she was caught by Clint.

The drive to wherever they were going seemed to drag on as Remedy got stuck between the two super soldiers, a guy named Frank Castle was driving and he wouldn't let anyone touch for stereo. Somehow Sam had won a coin toss and got to ride shotgun, while in the very back Bey was sharing their iPod with Wanda and Karen Page, was snoring.

When Remedy came to in the back of a truck that belonged to Castle, Pepper had been pushing her hair back. Tears had been cascading down her face even though she was smiling, Remedy had tried to smile but everything in her body has hurt. Pepper was in her suit of armor, Remedy remembered choking out the colors were far better than Dad’s, making Pepper laugh. Tony had leaned over the side of the truck kissing the crown of her head, reminding her favoritism sucked.

Soon they were invited back to Stark-Potts household because of course they got married, but it turns out they no longer lived in the city but out by Lake George. The two-hour drive listening to classic rock and alternative rock, barley any legroom, the constant sniff, and cough was starting to get to Remedy. Almost making her wish she had taken up the Peter Quill guy, or even Scott Lang offers up for a lift.

As Hozier’s voice crooned about how he should have taken better care of his lover, the road Frank had turned on to suddenly became bumpy. Steve sat up straighter, suddenly elbowing Remedy in the ribs with his sharp elbow, causing her to take a deep intake of breath. Bucky reached around Remedy smacking his best friend on the back of the skull, getting a laugh out of Wanda and Bey in the back. Steve gave her an apologetic look as they drew closer to a cabin that looked almost luxurious, right away Remedy knew this was one of her Dad’s places.

As the Range Rover came to a slow stop, Remedy noticed Happy, Pepper, and Rhodey standing on the porch together, with drinks in their hands. Remedy followed Bucky out of the car and saw the lake to her left, it's beauty was serene, she could see why Pepper and her Dad would settle here. Suddenly arms were around Remedy’s legs and holding on tightly to her, with no foreseeable plan to let go it seemed.

“Remy, Daddy said he would bring you home and he did! Mom said you would teach me how to play guitar and you’d Dutch braid. I’m so happy your home.” Remedy stared down at the little girl at her legs in confusion before she heard footsteps nearing, and a hand was placed on top of the little girls head. That hand is turned our belonged to her father and beside him was Pepper, both of which were smiling at her.

“Remedy, this is Morgan, we had her shortly after the snap. Morgan this is your older sister Remedy.” Tony was now holding Morgan in his arms, who continued to stare at Remedy was adoration.

“I know who Remedy is Daddy, I have her picture at my bedside, I tell her goodnight every night and I read to her. Well not her, the picture of her, but now I can read to her because you brought her home to us, as you promised!” Remedy felt her heart rate skyrocket, she had a sister, she had been gone five years and so much has changed. To the right, she could hear Bey screaming no, as Clint was saying sorry, everything felt louder, her breathing more shallow.

“Remy?” Pepper put her hand on her shoulder like she used to do when she was a teenager, and she felt the world was out to get her, but Pepper always reassured her, she was stronger than those who brought her down. Remy tried her hardest to smile at Morgan, but she felt perhaps it still came out more like a grimace than anything else.

“Morgan, it's so good to meet you. If you don't mind, I just need a second to catch my breath.” Remedy had reached over and squeezed her little sister soft delicate hand in a loving gesture before she turned away from her family. Her legs taking her out towards the edge of the dock of the lake, hands-on her hips she found herself struggling to breathe as her mind raced.

Where did she belong now? Why did she have to leave all those years ago, she should have come home with the tail tucked between her legs and signed the accords, they could have been a family. She had missed out on the wedding, the one she had wished for since she was a pre-teen, on her birthday cakes and falling stars. Tony had taken in Peter Parker, Spider-Man who was a pretty cool kid, but still, she missed out on seeing them interact. Here she was a big sister and she missed five years of bed life and yet she seemed to know everything about her, acted like she was the best thing in the world. What would Morgan think when she found out that she wasn't all that great?

An arm around her shoulder, the scent of metal, tea tree, sandalwood, amber, leather, and moss hit her nose, indicating Bucky was the one at her side. He ran his flesh hand up and down her arm, as he put his face in her hair shushing her as she began to cry. Remedy didn't need to be told that Natasha was also gone, along with Vision, people they lost in the war. Her family was falling apart and she felt so broken, yet here was a man she spent weeks on the run, months in Wakanda with, comforting her.

“I’m not sure about you, but I feel a little lost right now, but that's because we are in a strange place, but I promise you Remedy, you got me. You aren’t alone and we’ve got Sam and Bey as well as Steve.” Remedy kept her head in the crook of Bucky’s neck as the vibrations of his voice soothed her along with the smoothing up and down motions of him rubbing her back.

“Everything’s going to be alright.” Bucky kissed the crown of her forehead and looked out at the water while he just held Remedy in his. He vowed to keep her safe and maybe they could help each other piece themselves back together in this messed up world.

[theheartofpenelope]

SIMPLE THINGS - Chapter three

Chapter three - excerpt : No. Not butterflies. Never butterflies. Fireflies! It would seem the little leftover rascal had found a friend. Two little beetles together, having fun and carefully shedding some light on her forlorn heart. Their fluttering however barely noticeable - still, there they were. And they did manage to somehow manifest themselves more clearly when Charlotte finally set foot in the lobby at the established hour. 'Nasty little buggers'.

Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1

Author’s Notes/Warnings: Not beta’d. And thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think...

Also on AO3 through this link

Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter three

London - Day twelve

Oh, curse those nervous jitters… Charlotte looked up from the desk and scanned the spectators in the conference room. They lied about those bright lights, she thought, they don’t completely black out the audience. Damn it.

She exhaled quietly and took a drink from her glass of water while the power point-presentation was started up for her. She could do this. There was no doubt. She repeated it in her mind like a mantra. Her mind would surely come around soon, however her stomach was in knots.

God, I have to find a way around this soon. Very soon. Close your eyes Charlie, take a deep breath.

Charlotte would hear the spectators shuffling in their seats, the subtle buzz of people talking and flipping through their syllabi while they waited…. It was always the same story. That same petrifying and paralysing stage fright that kept on haunting her, wherever she would go. The absolute horror of getting that first sentence out there… but then, once she was past that, she would be on a roll. She knèw it. If only she could get at that point easier or faster somehow.

So Charlotte tried reminding herself some of the reassuring words friends and family had spoken to her to break her anxiety. Her brother’s “imagine the crowd in their kinkiest underwear!” never ceased to make her smirk just a little bit. But today, it was Tom’s “you’re passionate about your work. You’ll be fine,” that suddenly echoed through her mind. It brought a slight smile to her face and gave her that much-needed boost of confidence she was looking for.

And on that high, Charlotte confidently launched her theories on medical assistance with end of life decisions from her professional yet controversial point of view. Ready to take on the world. Preferably by storm. The feedback after her presentation was larger than she had expected and made for an interested debate in the auditorium as well as captivating conversations during the ensuing lunch break.

When the colloquium concluded for the day, Charlotte felt both satisfied and exhausted. As she walked back to her hotel room all she really longed for was a hot bath and a good book in that pristine air-conditioned hotel room. She was however surprised at the fact that the hotel manager, while handing her back her room key, informed her a message had been left for her at the front desk.

A wave of worry rippled through her, and a monster like claw clenched itself around anxious heart. She feared at first that some emergency had occurred family-wise, but then surely they would have tried calling her cell phone? They knew she kept the device close to her at all times. Surely, they would have rang,… wouldn’t they?

While she questioned the manager if he was absolutely sure, he spelled her name to which she could only nod affirmatively.

Maybe it was a work-related issue? An urgent case-file perhaps? My god, please not now, she wished. It was as if, after the debate all energy had escaped her body.

She longed for her home, her living room, where she could curl up in her favourite nook of the sofa with a good book and some lounge music playing in the background.

A large yellow manila envelope was handed to her. It weighed light in her hands. It couldn’t hold more than one page, she concluded, so hardly a professional emergency. Her mind worriedly drifted back to her family, the monster claw tightened his grip around her heart. Good news rarely came in tiny packages…

Charlotte opened the envelope in the elevator. She had no patience. It was somewhat of a problem, but on a professional level it was one of her best traits. On the beautiful hotel stationary a message was typed out. Apparently a phone call had come in, requesting her. The message was short and to the point, and with a sigh of relief her lips curved into a smile as her eyes scanned the narrative.

I hope your day went well. You’re very kindly invited to a small gathering of people tonight. It’s Ben’s birthday -  so you can’t really say no. Meet me in the lobby at 6.30 PM. Dress casually; it’s an outside event. Greetings from Tom.

Her unfounded agony quickly made way for butterflies. No. Not butterflies. Never butterflies. Fireflies! It would seem the little leftover rascal had found a friend. Two little beetles together, having fun and carefully shedding some light on her forlorn heart. Their fluttering however barely noticeable - still, there they were. And they did manage to somehow manifest themselves more clearly when Charlotte finally set foot in the lobby at the established hour. Nasty little buggers.

Her choice of attire earned her that first broad smile of his. Talk about an icebreaker.

“M’lady,” Tom unfolded himself from his seat and gave her a polite nod accompanied with a gentle wink. “Good sir,” Charlotte beamed at the elegant appearance in front of her, “will this do?” “You look lovely darling,” he kissed her on the cheek. There was that wonderful scent again. His beard softly brushed against her cheek, “I’m pleased you made it.” “Well you didn’t exactly give me the chance to say no, did you?” she impishly reprimanded. “It’s all Benedict really. He requested your presence for his birthday. I have nothing to do with it.” “No, you’re just the innocent messenger,” Charlotte teased. “Quite right,” he added with a proud nod, “we – I mean he thought you might appreciate the warmth of company, rather than a lonely hotel room.” “How very considerate of,” she paused calculatedly, “him,”

A mischievous grin followed as he offered her his arm, “let’s go, shall we?”

After that successful lecture she was oozing with confidence. She felt quite bold and adventurous all of a sudden. But Charlotte also had a lousy sense of direction and once in Tom’s car she internally fretted whether this was a good idea or not. Where was she headed? Was he a good driver? The control freak in her fought for supremacy, whereas her tired mind looked forward to an evening of mystery and was more than eager to surrender herself to whatever surprises that might cross her path in the course of the evening. Charlotte wriggled in her seat and it didn’t go by unnoticed.

“Are you alright darling?” he queried humorously. “Yes,” she nodded before adding with a kind-hearted laugh, “actually no. You drive on the other side of the road for starters.”

There was that second broad smile of the night.

“Also,” she puffed out a short exhale, “I’m suddenly very aware that I am putting my life in your hands here.” He glanced over at the young woman next to him and nodded in earnest now, “I am aware.” “Be careful with it?” it sounded more flirtatious than she had intended. But it was immediately rewarded with a lopsided smile of his and his heartfelt word. “I promise that you will not regret having put your trust in me…”

2.  

When the front door swung open, it revealed a very happy birthday boy. Benedict was obviously in tremendous good spirits and cheerfully he guided his guests into his home. As they exchanged pleasantries, he watched his friend guide his ‘plus one’ for the evening inside. And it occured to him then and there that it really was a delightful thing to see.

Tom had run this particular idea past Benedict earlier that day. He’d mentioned having spent the previous night out and about with Charlotte and just felt like maybe, surely, it would a fitting thing to invite her to this little get-together. ‘So she could spend an evening in pleasant company rather than in a lonely hotel room. You know just to reciprocate that informal BBQ-event from earlier that month’. However, Tom was not the one throwing the party.

It had taken Benedict no consideration at all to agree with Tom’s idea. Finally, he teased, you’re bringing a ‘plus one’ for a change… Tom had chuckled and rolled his eyes at this. ‘No, no, none of that. She’s pleasant company, it’s the right thing to do and that was that.’

But, in secret, he did look forward to spending some more time with her. Her and her warm laugh, her perceptive humour and quick wit. He wanted to know how her lecture had been, had it been well received? Was she happy about her day, what were her further plans, what was that book again she’d labelled a must-read for him the previous night… He felt as though there were more questions to ask, more stories to be shared. All purely platonic of course.

Tom still kicked himself a bit for having acted so forward earlier that month. And he was quite hesitant about meeting her again in the Theatre the night before. All ‘should he or shouldn’t he’. Should he ignore that anything had ever happened between them earlier on, or should he offer - another - apology about it? All this apprehension on his part had instantly vanished though the moment he’d set his eyes on her again in the Theatre yesterday. It had been lovely to see her again, to talk to her again. And he quickly concluded that the past was merely water under the bridge. She didn’t seem to be hung-up on it. So neither should he. He was only hung up on her. But… pure platonically. Of course.

Because Tom was far too rational to believe in silly, trivial things such as love at first sight. His mind didn’t deem it possible. You just cànnot fall in love with someone you don’t know. However he did accept there was something like ‘lust at first sight’. And that had to be what it was. It was the only explanation for what had occurred twelve days ago. That and alcohol. After all, the facts were the facts. He’d spend weeks on end travelling around the globe, suffering jet lag after jet lag, answering all the same questions all over again. (Although creatively repackaged by every single interviewer or talk show host, bless them.)

And while it was unquestionably exciting to launch the new movie, beyond pleasing to finally be able to reward all fans for their relentless support and anxiously await their reactions, at the end of the day - in whatever time zone he was residing-  Tom was exhausted, lonesome and yearning for home, his home, his dog, his family. Full stop.

That night at ComiCon was the early prelude to his 8 week-hiatus. He’d let go of everything and was enchanted with conversations that for once did not centre around his work. He might have had a gin tonic too many, that was true. But he did enjoy the fact his mind was allowed to roam free for a while. Charlotte had asked the right questions, said the right things, she was a breath of fresh air and he –foolishly- took it.

Tom snapped out of his thoughts when he’d heard Benedict mentioning his wife Sophie was just putting their 2 children to bed. A pang of remorse went through him; there was an anecdote he had promised to share with them that evening and now it was too late. His remorse must have been showing, because Benedict was quick to suggest Tom could – if he wanted to - just run up very-very quickly to say goodnight and share whatever his kids had been going on and on about that afternoon. ‘Just don’t wind them up too much‘, Benedict warned in a true paternal style.

Though relieved, Tom’s attention momentarily drifted back to Charlotte. He couldn’t just leave her there all alone, now could he? That would be bad form on him towards his ‘plus one’. But Benedict – bless his heart – had already quipped that he would make sure to introduce Charlotte to the rest of the group in the meantime. He’d offered her his arm, which she did not hesitate to accept, and with a soft chuckle Charlotte urged Tom to go ahead and visit the children before Benedict galantly led her the way to the garden.

3. The sight immediately took Charlotte’s breath away. The heat in London was unbearable. Even at night the temperatures hardly dropped. The sight of a peaceful garden party under a canopy of trees brought joy to her heart. Forget that bath and that book. Air-conditioning or not. Here a person could breathe and come back to earth again…

The guests consisted of a small group of people, mostly Benedict’s closest friends from college days. And as promised, Charlotte was kindly introduced to the group, who was very welcoming towards her. She was seated on a picnic bench at a picture perfect table. A genuine and spontaneous debate ensued when Charlotte answered toward the reason of her stay in the city. Frankly, she’d gotten quite used to the level of controversy end of life-matters created and she readily met all opinions that bounced onto her - both pro and contra her reasoning - with diplomacy, tact and humour.

She wasn’t aware of Tom’s return until she felt his hand softly resting against her shoulder blade. “I see you’re blending in well,” he whispered softly as he took the seat to her side. “Kids went too sleep alright?” Benedict queried as he sweetly placed a kiss on his wife’s lips as she momentarily rested against the armrest of his chair. “Perfect,” Sophie replied, “Uncle Tom apparently reads the best bedtime-stories,” “I made a promise,” a timid laugh on his behalf, “and I don’t like to break my promises.” “Hmm, I’m amazed no one has made you a godfather yet,” Benedict’s wife pondered quietly. “Well, maybe now’s a better time than ever?” Benedict chuckled as he placed his hand on his wife’s stomach, “after this perfect birthday present ever.”

The table went dead quiet as the news of the pregnancy slowly sank in. If Charlotte hadn’t felt out of place before, she sure felt like it now. Within seconds congratulations were up in the air, friends kissed and hugged the expecting couple while a very confused yet proud Tom solemnly swore to take his duty as godfather very seriously.

Charlotte evidently made a point of congratulating both parents before turning to her side to extend her heartfelt wishes to a visibly affected Tom. Without thinking she enthusiastically planted a sweet kiss onto his cheek. She was the first and only one who did. It flattered him. It graced her.

The announcement was the joyous prelude of what turned out to be an easy-going and quite entertaining evening. Charlotte was delighted at how the friendliness of the company quickly enclosed her, how they were mindful of her in conversations and elaborated on some background details so she would be able to follow. Her eyes had darted from the group of friends to Tom on occasion. She particularly enjoyed how at times his words could make her feel as though she was the only one he was talking to.

She was introduced to some silly British party games and laughed profusely when the moment came for the real birthday celebration. Tom kindly narrated the usual order of their silly ritual and Charlotte rested her hand on his arm when she was stuck in a fit of giggles because of it.

Tom was thoughtful and attentive. At the slightest shiver he had draped his jacket over her shoulders before he offered to fetch the pashmina she’d left in his car.

Their interaction had a familiar feel to it. It just … worked. If she would have to put it into words, she would probably confess that he made her feel welcome and appreciated. She honestly never would have put any more rational thought into it. That is until Benedict’s wife struck up a conversation with her while Tom had sauntered off in search of Charlotte’s scarf.

The brunette leaned in a bit closer from across the table and exchanged a kind smile with Charlotte. “I see Tom’s taking good care of you,”

Linguistically it was a simple observation, but everybody knows that in between women a lot can be said through simple observations. Perhaps even more than we hold dearly. “Yes, he’s very considerate,” Charlotte agreed, after all it was true. “How long have you two been seeing each other?”

A loud cackle escaped from Charlotte’s throat. She wasn’t even aware she could cackle. She feverishly giggled the comment away, and hoped she didn’t turn beet red in the process. “No, no,” she shook her head, “believe me, no dates here… I’m just a ‘plus one’ for the evening – a pity invite if you will.”

But the expecting brunette simply smiled encouragingly under a knowing nod and continued as if Charlotte had never protested against her question. “Men like these are hard to come by…”

It was a beautiful and very fitting compliment towards Tom. He earned all credit in that department. He was handsome but not the in-your-face kind of way, he was attentive but also deliciously masculine. He was intelligent and hilariously funny when he wanted to be. And, though tipsy, he had proven to being a great kisser… Ok, ok, so he would be a catch. But Charlotte wasn’t really looking for anything. Right? Right.

”Believe me, Charlotte,” she nudged, “I know.” She caught Sophie secretively and not so secretively rewarding her doting husband with a wink. A testament of a deep and true love, it warmed Charlotte’s heart.

4.

If she had to be honest, Sophie’s words did resonate with her. Charlotte excused herself to go to the restroom, while in fact she just wanted to get away from the conversation. She let the cold water run over her wrists, checked her make-up in the mirror and sighed. Charlotte had wanted to blame the alcohol for giving someone courage to blurt out such a fictitious statement, but Sophie was undeniable sober because hello - pregnant?

Charlotte’s inner control freak had allowed her only one glass of champagne so she was indisputably lucid enough to see things for what they were. Her tireless mind kindly reminded her Tom hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since his first and only glass of champagne, being the designated driver and all.

As Charlotte’s mind quickly recapped it concluded that Tom was just being charming and chivalrous. So definitely-maybe pregnancy hormones were plaguing Sophie. And possibly she was just joking, after all how good did Charlotte really know her?

But more, much more than this Charlotte was astonished why she was even given this silly remark so much thought. Why was she getting worked up over this? After all, she was going home the following day. She would never see Tom - or anyone else for that matter - again after this evening. As the realisation hit, her stomach dropped a bit.

Charlotte scolded herself and commanded herself to stop being so pubertal about it. Still deep in thought she strolled back out onto the patio, taking a moment to admire the scenery. A couple of women sat chatting at the table, in the backyard a small group of friends were quarrelling over a game of Kubb. It really was a lovely evening, she mused, and she owed it to herself to enjoy it more profusely.

"Hi,” his accustomed voice rang into her ear. With a smile Charlotte greeted Tom as he walked out of the house himself, “hi.” “Found it,” he held up her pashmina proudly as he walked up to her. He was tall; it made her thankful she’d opted to wear a reasonable height in pumps… “You look good,” Charlotte pondered.

Shit. Was that out loud?

“Better rested, I mean. You look… better rested.” Charlotte hastened to add and stumbled over her words. She laughed and shook her head; her hand carefully rubbing her forehead in the process, “oh I’m tripping over my words tonight, aren’t I?” “You’re tired,” Tom concluded amused. “I am,” she agreed, “I think I have more understanding for you and your travelling ways now. It seems so glamorous from afar, but …” “It does get under your skin, doesn’t it?” She nodded with a smile, “hmm.” “Allow me,” he offered. And though Charlotte chuckled and mentioned it was fine, Tom remained adamant in his intent to drape the refined accessory over her shoulders.

Perfect gentleman, see Sophie? A mere perfect gentleman.

“I can’t get over how beautiful this place is,” Charlotte mentioned while he dutifully unfolded the silky scarf, “such a quiet green oasis in the midst of the madness.”

“Mmm, it’s quite something, isn’t it? Sophie really has a knack for design and decorating… ” he added while frowning over which side was in and wish side was out.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Charlotte smiled at the sight of Tom stubbornly struggling along, “that was very considerate of you. Thank you.” A humorous sigh escaped Charlotte’s lips and she shook her head in comical despair  “I keep repeating myself.”

“You do,” he answered softly, locking his eyes with hers momentarily, “but I don’t mind repeating you’re very welcome.”

He turned the pashmina in his hands around proudly, “I think I’ve got in now…” and with that draped it around her and over her shoulders.

Charlotte enjoyed the languid rhythm of their conversation. It contrasted so marvellously towards the hectic day that had left her drained. And the entertaining festivities in the evening had allowed her to release all the built-up adrenaline. Fatigue fell over her like a soft blanket and she supressed a yawn but held a chuckle when she saw him bunching up the material as he tried out some type of elegant knot. Her hands clasped over his, “no, no, not like that, no knots…”

“Christ I’m helpless at this, I’m afraid,” he admitted with a sigh as his eyes briefly locked with hers. “But such a beautiful summer night, isn’t it? Festivities, music in the air,"  he continued and gestured towards her, "pleasant company, …”

Charlotte’s mind short circuited for a moment when she caught him looking at her again. With sympathy. His look was honest and warm, his eyes mesmerizingly blue. She saw his tongue quickly dart over his lips as he breathed in, ready to speak on.

And though her heart thundered in her chest, she didn’t feel any warmer. Not one bit. Quite the contrary. An observable shiver ran across her spine.

“Are you all right darling? Are you cold, still?” Tom questioned apprehensively.

Charlotte - grateful for the diversion that allowed her to tear her eyes away from Tom at long last - shook her head, hoping it would chase away this sudden cloud of confusion that had started to enclose her. She pulled the pashmina higher and tighter over her shoulders, wishing she could curl up and hide in it altogether.

“No, just tired. I get cold when I’m tired,” she tilted her head, “It’s erm – it’s been a long day.”

“Oh! Right,” he remembered, his right hand flying to his head at his silly neglect.

“And I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow, …”

“Surely, no talks about death over breakfast already?”

“Well... yes. Basically,” Charlotte smiled apprehensively, “we’re a fun group, I tell you.”

“Shall I take you back to your hotel?” he voiced his concern.

“No, no, I don’t want to impose, I could get a taxi just as well…”

“I’ll have none of that,”

“I know, but I’m fine.”

“Even if you did - and you are most definitely not -” he interrupted her kindly, “I’d happy to oblige nonetheless. C’mon, let’s go.” And with that he ran his warm hand up and down her spine reassuringly, an effort to bring her warmth... but Charlotte only shivered once more.

[pagesoflauren]

Tuesdays with Jack (Jack Lowden x reader)

(as usual: not my gif!)

Tuesdays are easier than Mondays. It’s still challenging to wake up in the morning, but at least you’re one day closer to the weekend. 

That’s usually how Tuesdays are. This Tuesday is different. 

Last night, you had drifted to sleep while watching The Office. Jack cuddled himself into your side as you laid on your back, one arm slung across your waist and the other cushioning your neck. You had your head turned to the side as you both watched the show, one arm bent around his head to occasionally scratch the back of his head and the other draped over his arm across your waist. You vaguely remember him pressing kisses to your face as your eyelids dropped close. 

You woke up two hours before your alarm. It was 4:36 AM, and it was still dark in your room. You turned your head to find Jack sleeping, his head positioned as if he had watched you before drifting to sleep himself. You thought about the ring. Was he going to ask you to marry him? Were you ready to marry him? Could you afford a wedding? A dress? Did he even ask your parents? You hadn’t seen them in weeks. Did he have the ring then? You’ve only talked about getting married in passing, how long had he been thinking about it? 

But you loved him. Maybe it was time; it’s been two years. You’re very settled with each other and you’re both grown adults with steady, established careers. There was nothing going against you externally. Your entire situation was perfect. Why not get married?

Before you knew it, your alarm went off and you had to get out of bed. Jack woke up with you, having an early meeting to go to.

“Are you sor’ed for dinner, tonight, lass?” he asked you as you finished washing your face. “Yeah, there’s leftovers. Meeting someone tonight?” “Yeah, the lads.” “TFTI,” you joked. You did miss the Dunkirk boys, but you couldn’t be too angry. Jack needed a boys night out, especially since they weren’t always free to hang out together. “Sorry, hennie. I’ll try to schedule a dinner for next week if they’re still in town.” “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got a meeting today too?” “Yeah, goin’ over a movie script and looking over a contract.” You nodded before kissing his cheek and turning to go to your closet to get dressed. 

You and Jack made breakfast together and sat at the breakfast nook together. You walked out together, giving each other goodbye kissings and wishing each other luck with your work meetings. He waited for you to drive down the street before pulling out of the driveway himself, but instead of going towards London where his agent’s office was, he went the opposite direction.

Jack stood nervously outside your parents’ home. He picked up a bouquet of red and white roses for the house, to represent unity. He hoped they’d give their approval.

He rang the doorbell twice and stood with his hand in his pocket as he waited for someone to answer the door. He was greeted by your father.

“Jack! What’re you doing here, boy?” “Hello, sir. Can...can I come in?” “Of course!” He stood to the side, leaving room for Jack to walk in. “Darling, Jack’s here!”

Jack saw your mum come from the kitchen; she smiled warmly when she saw him. “Hello dear,” she greeted, coming over to kiss his cheeks.  “These are for you,” he said, swallowing hard. He handed the bouquet to her and she smiled even wider as she accepted them. “Oh thank you, dear!” she said, giving him a hug, “But I know you didn’t come all the way here just to give me some flowers.” “No, no...that’s not the only reason why I’m here. I, uh, I wanted to ask you both something very important.” “Well, out with it, lad, what is it?”

He looked at both your parents as they stood next to each other, your father’s hand on your mother’s waist. He wanted that; a love like your parents, a love like his parents. He wanted that with you. 

“Um, I was hoping we could maybe sit in the living room and talk?” he said nervously, scratching the back of his head. Your parents agreed, walking over to the next room. They sat on the love seat, Jack sat on the couch across the coffee table.

There was a moment of silence. They looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. He knew he’d have to ask them before he could ask you, but he didn’t know how to start.

“You want to marry our daughter.” 

His head shot up, his eyes darting from their focus on his folded hands in his lap straight into your father’s eyes.

“What?” he asked incredulously. “You wouldn’t drive two hours just to ask us to borrow the lawn mower,” your father joked, trying to lighten the situation. Jack only tensed.  “I-I...sir, I, um...” “Just ask us, son,” it was the first time he had used the endearment towards him, “just ask.”

He suddenly didn’t know what to say. He had thought this all out in his head, what he was going to say, how he’d reassure them if they had any doubts. He was ready to pour his heart out to your parents, but he suddenly couldn’t because your father completely uprooted the situation. 

Your parents were still looking at him, waiting for him to speak. 

“I...I love her--” “We know,” they said together. “And...I promise with every fiber of my being that I will take care of her, forever. As long as she wants me. She’s my world, I’ll keep her safe and spend the rest of my life making her happy, whatever the cost--” “We know.” He was stumbling. Were they baiting him just to tell him no? He needed a script; what was he supposed to say next? “Will you...or may I...no, wait...do I have...” “Yes,” your father chuckled, “You have our blessing.”

Jack didn’t know what to do. This was too easy. They knew. They knew and they had given their approval? Just like that? How did they know? What was he supposed to do now?

His thoughts were interrupted by a sniffle. Your mum was in tears, hopefully crying happy tears. She stood up and walked towards him. He stood up to meet her and she embraced him tightly, sobbing the entire time. 

“We love you, Jack,” she quietly as she hugged him, “And we know she loves you very much.” She kissed his cheek. He chuckled in disbelief.

“Thank you,” he said, squeezing your mum before pulling away to look at her. “Thank you. I...I love you both, too,” he smiled, looking from your mum to your dad. He walked over and hugged him too, before shaking his hand.

They sent him on his way, telling him to call them straightaway after asking you for your hand. He got into the car, his heart racing and hands shaking. He had his fair share of adrenaline rushes; when he got his first TV gig, when he landed the role in Dunkirk, when he met you, but this rush topped them all. He could only anticipate what it’d be like if you said yes. He hoped so badly you would say yes.

.

.

.

Jack got the text that you had arrived home from work as he walked into the pub. 

Enjoy your dinner, my love! Say hi to all the boys for me. Will do. I love you, so much.

He found the boys in a booth at the back, all of them already half done with their drinks. They cheered when they saw him and all got up to greet him. 

“So, Jack,” Tom grinned at him from across the table, “how are you and the missus?” Jack smiled bashfully; he would’ve hoped to hear about the other boys’ lives and catch up with them before he dropped his big news. 

“I, uh, I bought a ring.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing. Fionn was talking to Aneurin, both their heads snapped toward him. Barry was about to shovel some food into his mouth, his fork stopped halfway to his mouth. Harry was sending a text to someone, his fingers faltered and his head snapped up.

There was a moment of silence, before an eruption of cheers, cheeky comments and questions.

“When did this happen!?” “Get it, lad!” “When’s the stag night!?” “When are you popping the question?” “BARTENDER, ANOTHER ROUND!!!”

He laughed as they bombarded him, until things calmed down.

“Do you think I’m making the right decision?” he asked them seriously. They’ve never seen him so worried or anxious. 

Harry was the first to speak up, “If you love her and if you feel like it’s the right time, then why not?” There were nods of agreement from around the table, until Aneurin spoke up, “Have you talked to her about it?” Jack sighed thoughtfully, “We...no, not really. We always talk about it like, ‘one day.’ We’ve talked about how...it is us for each other. I know I wanna marry her and I think she knows she wants to marry me...” “You should ask her,” Fionn said immediately, “just to know she’s all in.” “Yeah, I think from the outside it looks like you could definitely be together, you could get married, but you need to know she’s on the same page as you,” Tom said. 

Jack suddenly felt really worried. He’d had your parents’ blessing. They were ready for a wedding and he was ready to really settle with you, start a family. But in the middle of the those thoughts, he was suddenly laced with doubt. What if you said no? Were you going to say no? 

He didn’t know, and neither did you.

.

.

.

AW SHITE Y’ALL. 

Don’t worry, I love happy endings 😉 but I also love angst and cliffhangers 😏

As always, let me know what you think! Hopefully I’ll be able to upload everything on the proper days, ending on Saturday!!! 

I’m completely elated that you all love this series, it’s so much more than I could ever thought it could be. Thank you so much for all your likes and replies!!! Love you guys :) 

[ibby981blog-blog]

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This wonderful theme is an complete package of impressive styles and web-site management tools to support you build a frontend that is positive to wow any gamer out there. With its all-potent theme alternatives panel and integration with WP Bakery web page builder, you can build breathtaking gaming forums, clan sites, news channels and game shops with minimal work.

The publisher funds the game and its release, even though the studio designs and develops the game. In the course of the 2000s, publishers began funding studios that created games of all sizes and excellent. This fostered an sector that created video games at a volume as well significant for consumer demand and with little concentrate on good quality Eventually demand for these low-good quality games faded and publishers stopped funding these studios, eliminating a massive portion of the gaming labor industry.

On the net multiplayer shooters, like CS:GO, Fortnite, and PUBG, are at present dominating the gaming planet, thanks to professional gamers, eSports tournaments, Twitch streamers , and YouTube gaming channels Some games that have been released years ago are still well-liked nowadays, like League of Legends, Minecraft, Planet of Warcraft, Dota two, and Super Smash Bros. Melee. Other great games trending now include things like Overwatch, Rocket League, Super Mario Odyssey, and Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six Siege. Others have spawned sequels that out play and out perform their original games.

Susan distinguishes herself as a gaming blogger since she emphasizes bringing positivity to the gaming sphere. As the Senior Editor for Escapist Magazine,” Susan also has an influence that some of the other gamers don't have mainly because she has the chance to encourage and influence some of the finest up-and-coming minds of the gaming world.

[bookloversreviewer]

Charismatic. Dangerous. Sexy as hell.

The all-new Stark Security Series from New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner is coming March 26th, and we’re sharing all three of the eye-popping covers!

Meet the men of Stark Security.

Stark Security, a high-end, high-tech, no-holds barred security firm founded by billionaire Damien Stark and security specialist Ryan Hunter has one mission: Do whatever it takes to protect the innocent. Only the best in the business are good enough for Stark Security.

Men with dangerous skills.

Men with something to prove.

Brilliant, charismatic, sexy as hell, they have no time for softness—they work hard and they play harder. They’ll take any risk to get the job done.

But what they won’t do is lose their hearts.

Pre-order the series today!

Shattered With You, Book One

Releasing March 26th

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2SQ2eSG

AppleBooks: https://apple.co/2soQ7jY

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/ShatteredWithYou

Nook: http://bit.ly/2VMLygL

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2D4jz5a

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2Fldp2Q

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2VEeDLo

Broken With You, Book Two

Releasing June 18th

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2V7GD9o

AppleBooks: https://apple.co/2SFsALc

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/BrokenWithYou

Nook: http://bit.ly/2Nd8bHz

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2tAOAYZ

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2Nd8zWx

Ruined With You, Book Three

Releasing September 24th

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2T6uq7y

AppleBooks: https://apple.co/2XaTA3O

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/RuinedWithYou

Nook: http://bit.ly/2Xdskl8

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2DQvTVJ

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2EilpQy

Shattered With You

Designer: Michele Catalano, Catalano Creative

Model: Dillion Lalor

Photographer: Annie Ray, Passion Pages

Broken With You

Designer: Michele Catalano, Catalano Creative

Model: Tom Chants

Photographer: Annie Ray, Passion Pages

Ruined With You

Designer: Michele Catalano, Catalano Creative

Model: Prince DevShon Day

Photographer: Annie Ray, Passion Pages

About J. Kenner

J. Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over one hundred novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres.

Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal mommy lit.

JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A six time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy) and in 2017 for Wicked Dirty in the same category. Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development as a television show.

Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages.

In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas. She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.

Connect with Julie

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JKennerBooks/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/juliekenner/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-kenner

Stay up to date with J. Kenner by joining her mailing list: http://juliekenner.com/contact/subscribe-to-the-julie-kenner-newsletter/

Website: www.jkenner.com

[jonasjjackson]

“It Was a Disaster:” Bringing a Beat-Up Bungalow Back to Life

Cathy and Tom of CT Properties Southcoast took on the challenge of bringing this beat-up bungalow in Fairhaven, Massachusetts, back to life. When he first saw it, all Tom could say was “What a disaster.” Cathy agreed, but she could see its potential and they decided to tackle the project anyway. Keep scrolling to see how it looks today!

The Beat-Up Bungalow After Its Remodel:

Doesn’t it look happier now? I could swear it’s smiling.

They painted the siding Sherwin Williams Coastal Plain.

The trim is Sherwin Williams Crème, and the door is Benjamin Moore Chili Pepper.

Unfortunately, a lot of the original moldings and details had been removed during prior renovations.

They opened up the staircase, making it a focal point of the hall:

They restored the original floors.

Upstairs Landing Before:

Upstairs Landing Today:

A sweet little nook in one of the bedrooms:

Bathroom Before:

Bathroom Today:

The Kitchen Before:

The Kitchen Today:

The Backyard:

The house was built in the 1920s and was owned by Captain Claude S. Tucker.

He and the house were written about in a book called The Last of the Fairhaven Coasters: The Story of Captain Claude S. Tucker and the Schooner Coral (Amazon affiliate link):

It sits in a different location today, though. Captain Tucker’s son Donald, who co-wrote the book, was born in the house in 1932 and remembers watching the house being transported down Route 6 in 1948 when it was moved to its current location.

Donald Tucker and his wife were given a tour of his childhood home:

One more look at the exterior of the bungalow before and after:

Cathy says, “This house turned out to be one of our favorite remodels. It was a labor of love to bring life back to this beauty and the icing on the cake was meeting Mr. & Mrs. Tucker.” For more photos and information, visit their Facebook page and the CT Properties Southcoast website. Many thanks to them for sharing it with us!

P.S. Visit my Before & After page to see more, including another house they remodeled:

The post “It Was a Disaster:” Bringing a Beat-Up Bungalow Back to Life appeared first on Hooked on Houses.

from Home https://hookedonhouses.net/2018/03/08/beat-up-bungalow-remodel-massachusetts/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[dailynarutoimagines]

So can I request a scenario where Itachi accidentally found his female s/o's old diary and read the "to-do list" she wrote when she was younger and one of the task is "Getting married with Itachi Uchiha" with a big heart on it ? And how this event will eventually lead on a marriage proposal ? I leave the rest up to youuu

If you don’t mind I’m going to put this in a modern AU; it’s refreshing. :)

ALSO YOU HAVE A CAT SO NYAAAAAAAAA

Itachi enjoyed the quiet of [Name]’s apartment. Unlike his own, her building was full of older folks who tended to be on the soft side of life, ensuring a peaceful environment for the entire building. On top of that she had no roommates, and while Itachi liked Kisame, he found it refreshing to have some solitude to come back to at the end of the day.

[Name] had gone off for the weekend with some friends. She approached Itachi and asked to take care of her place and pet during her absence. How could he refuse? She was his girlfriend of many years now, and at some point he’d like to live with her, so might as well get a feel of her current place to see if he’d be moving in with her or vice versa.

His main function was to take care of the cat. [Name] had one cat named Slippers that was rather…pudgy. Itachi figured he could give Slippers a bit of exercise while [Name] was gone in an effort to restore some fitness to the ballooned tom cat. Thankfully the cat seemed to like him; Itachi had already developed an exercise routine that Slippers seemed to latch onto rather quickly. And at night when he would sit in bed reading, the cat would cuddle at his feet. Itachi figured it was good that he and [Name]’s pet were on good terms as then he didn’t have to contend with it when he eventually did move in with her.

It was one of the nights that Itachi was slipping under the covers, novel in hand. Slippers typically jumped straight atop the mattress and made a beeline for the pair of wiggling feet beneath the blankets, but this time he seemed to be poking his nose in the narrow crevice between the bed and the nightstand, meowing.

“What is it?” Itachi asked, unsure as to what the cat wanted. It was pawing at something wedged neatly in the crack, and when Itachi bent to pull the item out, he had no idea what a night of reading he was getting himself into.

He wiped a layer of dust off an old, beat up notebook. The metal spirals were coming undone at the ends while the corners of the cover were mere nubs. There was evident water damage to the edges of the paper, causing whatever ink inside to bleed slightly. Amused, Itachi opened to the first page, which read:

“Property of [First] [Last]If found, please return to: [Address]And DO NOT PEEK! THIS IS A DIARY!”

A diary…? Itachi wondered. He tried to find a date; in the top right corner of the first entry he found a date indicating that the diary was at least five years old.

That’s around when we first started dating…. Curiosity was now at boiling point within Itachi as he begin to meticulously page through the first few entries, scanning the text. He was unsure of whether or not to read it, however, as he felt like it may breach [Name]’s privacy, since he did not have permission to read it. He turned towards Slippers who was now nestled comfortably next to the headrest next to where Itachi would be sitting.

After a few moments of hesitation, Itachi decided to go ahead. He may find something useful in the diary that he could remember for special occasions and whatnot, and perhaps get perspective into his and [Name]’s relationship like never before. Settling in next to Slippers, Itachi began on the first page:

“March 18th, XX95Dear Diary,You won’t believe what just happened today! My friend Makiko and I were studying in the library, and since it is finals right now, every desk was occupied. A lot of people were sharing tables and spaces simply because everyone is so intent on passing their exams. We were studying for our Konoha History class - which, geez, I already took in high school, why do I have to take it again in college?! - when this really BEAUTIFUL gentleman comes over and asks if he can sit at our table as everywhere else is full. So OF COURSE we let him sit as he’s GORGEOUS, and it turns out he is just about to graduate, so he helped us with our history homework. Makiko already has a boyfriend so of course that only left me, hee hee.”

The entry went on to further describe what this gentleman looked like, and that’s when Itachi realized as he read:

“Apparently his name is Itachi, and he’s an Uchiha. No wonder he was so handsome! *sigh* I’ll probably never meet him again…”

He chuckled, recalling the moment when he first met [Name]. Indeed, the library was crowded that day, and it was as if fate set up that one spare spot so he could sit next to her. The rest became history.

Documented history.

Itachi read through the following passages with fervor, amused at how [Name] represented herself and her feelings on the page versus in real life. He found out some darker truths as well as many secret thoughts she had about him, most which were favorable. He had no idea how much time passed until he shuffled upward to adjust his back and caught a glimpse of the clock: 12:34 AM.

“…I better go to bed,” Itachi concluded. He didn’t want to set down his newfound book, but resolved that he’d enjoy it just as much tomorrow night. Before setting it aside, however, he flipped through the rest of the pages out of curiosity, just skimming the cinema of text and drawings…until the latter part of the book, where one fancy entry stood out:

“October 23rd, XX99Dear Diary,

Just some things to-do:

Travel to Kirigakure!

Graduate at the top of my class (or close)

Find a new favorite food

Pet Slippers more

Exercise Slippers more [Itachi snorted when he read this]

Get Married to Itachi Uchiha

I know that last one seems kinda crazy, Diary, but we’ve been together almost five years now…and he’s so wonderful. He’d make a great husband and my family likes him. We’ll see what happens.”

Itachi froze. Not only did he make the list, but the importance placed upon him was not subtle at all: encased in a large, decorated heart shape was his name. It was written in bubble lettering while the heart was carefully detailed with eyelet trim and drawn-in lace. But it was the words preceding his name that caught is attention.

Get married to…married. 

He decided not to think about it anymore; it was late at night after all, and he was beginning to tire. If it was still bugging him when he woke up, he’ll think about it then.

That was his resolve as he packed the diary away and extinguished the light.

The door creaked open slowly as Itachi and [Name] shuffled inside, hauling a suitcase and backpack over the threshold. Slippers sprinted up to greet the both of them, clearly more energetic than usual.

“Slippers!!” [Name] exclaimed, scooping the cat up into her arms. “Oh, Slippy-bippy, I missed you~”

Itachi smiled. “He was getting pretty fed up with me by the end of it.”

“Nonsense, Slippers considers you part of the family now! Although he seems to have lost a little weight…Itachi, have you been exercising him?”

Releasing the cat, [Name] and Itachi continued to hobble in with the luggage, the latter explaining to her Slipper’s new exercise routine.

“…Laser on the wall, back and forth, for five minutes - every other day. Space it out so he won’t get bored of it too quick,” Itachi said, shifting the large suitcase in place next to [Name]’s bed. As he placed it, his eyes momentarily traced over the little nook where the diary sat - the diary that Itachi read front to back by now.

His mind was quickly overtaken once again with [Name]’s return that he couldn’t think much more of it. Besides, he had spent the rest of the week dismantling all the thoughts she had penned down there - especially that one entry in October of last year. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and it haunted him even as he watched [Name] glide through the apartment, unaware of Itachi’s thoughts.

Little did she know that he was about to do something about it.

Later that evening, Itachi wondered if she was up to traveling to the University where they first met.

“It’s a short walk,” [Name] mused. “Why there, Itachi-kun?”

“…There is a book that I can only get there, and I’m curious to see if my Student ID will still take.”

“Ha, that’s cute, you book-hunter,” she replied. “I’m sure it will. C’mon, let’s go before it gets too dark!”

 It was indeed a short walk, and within the hour the pair had arrived inside the library of the past.

Itachi ascended the staircase that led to the second floor, the floor where he met [Name] and an innocuous table. He pretended to browse through some shelves, but was real intent was to lead [Name] to the exact table where they first met - which was done without much persuasion. When she sat down, Itachi saw a light spark in her eyes.

“Hey…wait a second.” She said, eyeing Itachi curiously.

“Hmm?” He wondered if she had caught on at all.

“…This is the table where we first met,” she said, much to Itachi’s delight.

“Yes…and the book I’m looking for isn’t here,” he began, deciding it was time to break the truth. “But I did find what I was looking for already.”

[Name] cocked and eyebrow, clearly unaware to what Itachi was about to propose. In fact, his proposal was the proposal that she had seemingly been waiting for, as evident to her little diary entry in October.

“[Name]…” Itachi took a hold of her hand. “This place…this very table. It symbolizes beginnings for us. It is where we first met. Where we met several more times. And now look at us - five years strong. Perhaps this table can…represent a new beginning for the both of us?”

The room was still. As the shadows deepened outside, so did the darkness in the room, and the soft yellow of the lamplight around them glowed ardently around them. No one but Itachi and [Name] were present.

“Itachi…” [Name] ventured. “Are you…?”

He nodded, squeezing her hand tight.

“[Name]…I think we’re ready. Let us get married.”

And…check off one part of your to-do list.

- Admin Rhia

[marlaluster]

emptying clipboard

The music continues very loud. It's very concerning the devil is doing this. I have to write on it. It is just occurring as shocking. It is just impossible it is this loyd. It would have to be an attack of the devil, or another way to say it is it would have to be an attack. We were just talking about this or these nooks n crannies, this is one, saying something is an attack. It is to seem insane for someone to say this. "I'm not sure what to do I have to stop. I was trying to take the thoughts," the devil said, it was trying to take the thoughts about why it is occurring as a seeming like intricacy or nook n cranny kind of reach to say something is an attack. That thought seems lost. Another thought comes to mind: going toe to toe. Going to an edge wherr you are fought, to fill yoyr britches, to fill your shoes, to be full grown, to be fully cooked n not half baked. Going -- the devil just dropped the type pad n kept it down a minute. But i think i was saying going to your edge. "Can i go because im not allowrd to stay now if they see this. I am messing w the type but the spell che I don't really see medicine or the medical arena as true, ie i see it as part of the cooked up tormenting of devil world n the devil people are having to be subjected to pretending to go along w, their representations here, but sometimes people's true selves could accomplish telling something you're not supposed to tell in devil or talk about rather, which is passing guzzass n then there's a drawing of a button. Quite losing, but we never noticed. We think it's funny, we human beings. We're so less than. https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/fr/cp0/e15/q65/15170822_1830924527155490_5489238410192876000_n.jpg?efg=eyJpIjoidCJ9&oh=b853184dd1817ab922dbbd3936fad7b4&oe=5979D973 Psychiatric diagnosis appropriately wedged as it is: to insult someone offending the Man, ie the system. The Man isn't to imply human but fitting in in a way or a way to fit in in a way to be appropriate but not really okay, and in charge type position that isn't okay. The crowd maybe is a better term than The Man. I don't want to imply things that are against mankind are really anything human or anything human beings would be. Uncle Tom is a myth. No human could ever be it. The Man, the system, the crowd, the society are all really ways to describe something among that is not human but is the devil. You gotta be able to use yourself. #thingsaroundisbroken You're not supposed to write this on your birthday. Its too revealing n people are supposed to play it safe n not take chances like this. "It is rare. I have to tell you what it is. Self worship. This is the thing saying because I have to leave if you put this. I was trying to disguise this as something I could boo," the devil said. You're not supposed to write this on your birthday. Its too revealing n people are supposed to play it safe n not take chances like this, considering people don't really share items like this. Don't want to stand out. "It is rare. I have to tell you what it is. Self worship. This is the thing saying because I have to leave if you put this. I was trying to disguise this as something I could boo," the devil said. It's pretended it's okay here. #spookyasfuckoutdisbitch #notparanoid #followsomethingotherthantgecrowd I can't remember my other tags for like saying that people are not crazy. The devil is blocking my memory. "I was. Very embarassing," the devil said. This n a lot of posts I shared today is from the page of a new person I'm now Facebook friends w named Leslie Lewis. She has a lot of good items shared. The devil makes it not be tracked where i got the posts from, often I shared posts from people's pages n am not going to all the like topic pages or group pages on Facebook. It's almost always or just very often. But anyway, in my mind Leslie Lewis told me she was a maverick n does not want to work n she said in my mind also that people are not able to be a maverick here because you cannot break away from the society n be okay, disagree w it, the way it is, what it has for people. Devil world has that people are to face or be homeless to not go along or participate. It is not okay to participate. It's bad jobs n positions that are racist n sick n everything else. It's sick as fuck here, obsessed w a buck. This is hard to some degree to conceptualize because no one would really sell out n put a buck over their life or someone's life but it's did here or arranged here for people to sell out for a buck, give up their dreams, etc, they can't survive. They have to do horrible things for a buck. I have had horrible jobs. This person has a picture suggesting she drives a bus for teens. "I am poor. I can say more. I [have to] end the world. They know I ended it n he's trying to keep me here," Leslie Lewis said in my mind. But it's hard to really believe it's set up here for people to sell out for a buck. It's so cheap n blatantly not okay, ie wrong n it's pretended to be so the shit here. It's layers of mind control over something that's very blatantly sick n dumb as fuck. It's totally disgusting, enslaving people, it's pretended it's people to be happy, love their job, find the love of their life. Pretended people follow their dreams, some anyway. Some or others are supposedly not talented enough to be able to do that. It's sick as shit n sick as fuck here. This I people's lives. The devil has the music going from the neighbors. Just constant noise. Earlier there was loud noise from a video. Earlier I fell asleep while a amp like noise was going. "I am doing a lot of noise today. I Cannot really keep doing this. I am not doing okay," the devil said. But it's really horrible that music is going. There's some other disturbing knocking noise. Earlier someone whose page I found, his name was Stephen (or Steven - ?) King, not the writer, but a black guy who's friends w someone I'm friends w on Facebook named Amber Lovelle, but earlier he said it was really alarming what the devil was doing w the noise. It seemed he was saying it was alarming because it was aware the person could hear the noise, but the music n -- rather I think it was the video then, but the devil knew Steven could hear but it kept on anyway because the person couldn't do anything because he isnot present in his body. You're white! Whitey! #squeezeitinwhereyacan #racetalk #taboo This present reality, ie world as it's known, is hell. #devilworshiping The devil didn't want me to write that, so it was making the type pad not come up. But I was just gonna write that tag, i was saying that practice n ideology you're telling of, it's devil worsh https://m.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=160867484445595&id=100015670326962&set=p.160867484445595&ref=m_notif&notif_t=group_comment_reply "I don't like that imndoingbstuff that i don't look like I can blend in,"https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=301873773570439&id=100012434566027&fs=4&ref=m_notif&notif_t=group_comment_reply "I have to tell you why ... The link was missing, not showing what it was. You're gonna wake Karla," the devil said. It was not letting the type pad come up where i was trying to write something here. I went to text messages to write. It was annoying, i wanted to write something the devil was saying. The devil was not letting the type pad come up. This post, i was trying to share the version I had at this link, which is my post sharing it to my page, it's not showing as the link preview but it is the link. I had wanted to share something I was saying as well here. I guess I could type it again as the thing i would comment to share the same post here but the link that is previewed here is not exactly the link that is linked to. "The devil did it. Going crazy. Bye," the devil said. But moments ago I kept not being able to get the type pad to come up n i went to text messages n i wrote this that will follow next, previously I -- I lost my thought, but I wasn't able to write anything here as i was attempting to because the type pad wouldn't come up, the devil was saying it didn't want it to come. "Why. I don't know what to do. I can't really do that. But I don't know what to do that this is over, right," the devil said. But here's some text I ended up writing in text messages when the type pad came up there, it wasn't coming up here in Fact for me to erroneous this post. ..... "I have to tell you why ... The link was missing, not showing what it was. You're gonna wake Karla," the devil said. It was not letting the type pad come up where i was trying to write something here. I went to text messages to write. It was annoying, i wanted to write something the devil was saying. The devil was not letting the type pad come up. This post, i was trying to share the version I had at this link, which is my post sharing it (this picture) to my page, it's not showing as the link preview (my post sharing this picture to my page) but it is the link. I had wanted to share something I was saying as well here. I guess I could type it again as the thing i would comment to share the same post here but the link that is previewed here is not exactly the link that is linked to. "The devil did it. Going crazy. Bye," the devil said. But moments ago I kept not being able to get the type pad to come up n i went to text messages n i wrote this that will follow next, previously I -- I lost my thought, but I wasn't able to write anything here as i was attempting to because the type pad wouldn't come up, the devil was saying it didn't want it to come. "Why. I don't know what to do. I can't really do that. But I don't know what to do that this is over, right," the devil said. But here's some text I ended up writing in text messages when the type pad came up there, it wasn't coming up here in Fact [Facebook, auto changed or somehow changed by the devil to Fact] for me to erroneous this post. ..... "I have to tell you why ... The link was missing, not showing what it was. You're gonna wake Karla," the devil said. It was not letting the type pad come up where i was trying to write something here. I went to text messages to write. It was annoying, i wanted to write something the devil was saying. Maybe you could still read less books. #readlessbooksbemoresmart, Fart.

[mybookplacenet]

Featured Post: Take on Me by Mia Epsilon

About Take on Me: Steam Level: High Never stop. Fighting. Believing. Dreaming. And never let the negative consume the positive. Or allow a redhead to get under your skin. I’m an eternal realist and ultimate fraud. Even my name is a myth. But I bloody well know exactly who I’ve made myself to be and how to make the world kneel panting at my feet. Except for protecting her from the dodgy media and her shite-for-brains brother. Those I’m winging with pure nerve, skill, and bravo. When she sees through the star façade, will she still want the man she discovers? I’m going to be the first female pilot in my family. I was raised to shoot for the moon or land among the stars. And boy, did I land on a true Heavenly Body (Good gravy! What a body!). Suddenly everything I thought was mega important isn’t. I hunted him for years. Now I’m the hunted. How can this luminary celebrity ever settle with a plain Jane (well, Kirsten) like me? Privacy? Ha! Tom Williamson deliberately placed himself and his Flavor-of-the-Week in my spotlight. He damn well courted me like a lovesick schoolboy. Back off? Screw that! This story is worth a fortune. He owes it to me. The sky’s the limit for Mega Movie Star Tom Williamson and Pilot-in-Training Kirsten Sittler. Will story-craving media hound their budding relationship into a crash and burn? Or ground them forever in a love written in the stars? Buy the ebook: Buy the Book On Amazon Buy the Book On Smashwords Buy the Book On iBooks/iTunes Buy the Book On Kobo Buy the Print book: Buy the Book On Amazon Author Bio: Writing is a passion. Reading is a bigger one. When I’m MIA or can't be found, search a cozy nook, a quiet green garden hideaway, or a closet lit by flashlight to find me. When the Zombie Apocalypse rages, I’m holing up at Barnes and Noble. Everything I need is there: coffee, scones, comfy chairs, and most of all, lots and lots of books. I’m hopeless, helplessly, addicted to coffee and chocolate. I haunt a local shop, The Chocolate Fetish. I’ve been known to share, grudgingly, with a new book boyfriend. If the Tardis ever appears, and I have great faith one day it will, I’ve plenty of jammy dodgers and tea. "We're all stories so make yours a good one." Follow the author on social media: Learn more about the writer. Visit the Author's Website Facebook Fan Page Twitter Read the full article