#that’s what I say to my lunch meat at 2am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unmotivatedwrit3r · 2 years

Text

What's a Lock to a Bat?

damian wayne x reader (featuring the batsiblings)

(A/N): I'm not dead!! I know I've been MIA but last semester was without a doubt had the most difficult and busiest semester of my life, and I've done so little writing. I want to do more now that it's summer so here's hoping. Thank you to everyone that's been patient about a request and stuck around; I am so grateful to all of you :)

I've been working on this story for i have no idea how long but have not yet managed to finish it until today and only did so because I really wanted to post something but don't have much finished so I hope you all enjoy it :)

wordcount: 2361

warnings: blood, injury, batsiblings being themselves

Damian and you have been living in an apartment together for 2 months when the first bat comes through the window. It’s dick, and it’s a social call. It only spirals from there

It’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon and Damian has just gotten home from his last class of the day. You’re sitting on the couch, working on an assignment as he makes lunch in the kitchen. You suggested sandwiches, but he doesn’t eat deli meats, so you honestly have no idea what he’s making, but it’ll probably be good.

A loud ‘clunk’ coming from behind your bedroom door has you standing up and reaching for the knives strapped to the side of the table right beside the couch and turning to Damian to see if he’s expecting anything or anyone he didn't warn you about. The fact that he’s pulled two of your largest kitchen knives and is focused entirely on the bedroom door tells you he wasn’t.

You’re not as good of a shot as he is —you’re no field vigilante— but you can hit a target pretty well, especially when you know where it’s coming from.

“Hey guys, how’s the new-Aye!” Dick says from the doorway, shrieking as he dodges a six inch knife that lands in the throwing target on the wall next to him. “Ok I guess I deserved that. Probably should have called first or something.” He smiles awkwardly and pulls the knife from the board. You’re pretty sure it went through and into the wall.

You sigh and relax, heart beating quickly from the adrenaline. “Or, you could have just used the door. We do have one, you know.”

Damian is looking positively murderous, so Dick comes to give you a hug first, and you put the set of throwing knives away before allowing him to wrap you in a hug. He does give good hugs, and you can’t stay mad at him for long, though in all honesty, you weren’t really mad in the first place.

Dick turns to Damian, who has turned back to what you now see is boiling a pot of pasta.

“So, what’s for lunch?”

You’ve met Duke before, but only once, so you’re surprised when you get a knock on the door at 7pm on a Thursday evening and he’s standing on the other side.

“Duke, hi. Sorry if you’re looking for Damian he’s actually at the manor this-”

Duke looks quickly back and forth as if he’s expecting something to be coming up behind him

“Yeah, I know. I may or may not have pissed him off and am looking for somewhere that he won’t find me. And I figured he’d never think to-”

“Check in his own apartment, yeah. Smart. But what makes you think that I won’t just tell him?” you ask, even as you move to let him in.

“I was hoping?”

You lock the door behind him and move to lean against the kitchen counter. “How about this: If he asks me specifically if you’re here, I will tell him yes. If he doesn’t I won’t say anything.”

Duke collapses on your couch.

“Deal.”

As it turns out, Damian finds Duke by accident, as he’s leaving your apartment at 2am, the same time that Damian returns after his patrol shift. The look on both their faces is priceless, especially when you knew it was coming; Damian told you he was on his way back, you just didn’t tell Duke. Even after a ten minute lecture from Damian about what you think had to do with sword-display etiquette, Duke admits that you kept your word, and he stops by every few Thursdays (when Damian is at the manor) for an hour or so, just to say hi.

Though you see him least often, you actually do enjoy spending time with Jason. He’s always good to talk to about your English assignments, and he’s willing to help you clean or bake when he’s over, assuming Damian is not.

You didn’t even know he was in town when he came flying through your (thankfully open) balcony window at 11pm on a Tuesday night, and he scares you half to death as he gets up, covered in blood.

“I’m fine” You point to the large slash in his jacket, then the blood on his gloves. “Mostly.” He raises his hands up. “This isn’t mine.”

You sigh. “So can we talk about when crashing into my apartment became a usual thing in your family? Because I don’t remember having this discussion.”

Jason shrugged, already stuffing his gloves into his jacket pocket and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

“I don’t care much for bonding time with the Demon Spawn, but you’re a lot more tolerable than he is, and this apartment is centrally located.”

You put your hands on your hips. “Is that your way of telling me you like me? Because I speak fluent Damian, not general bat-speak.” Jason just chugs his water bottle and shrugs. You sigh —again— and head to the bathroom to pull out your first aid kit.

“Whatever, doesn’t matter I guess. Just sit down and let me fix that. And then, to repay me for the water and food you’re inevitably going to consume, you’re going to help me develop the topic for my English final paper.”

When Damian gets back from patrol, three hours later, it’s to you and Jason sitting on the couch, Jason wearing some of the pj pants he’s less fond of and a plain t-shirt. He’s torn between annoyance that his older siblings have made a habit to come to his apartment to talk to his partner when he’s not home, adoration for you because you fit into his family so well, and a spark of something warm in his chest when he knows that you’ve also gotten one of the half a dozen pairs of pj pants he doesn’t wear out of his dresser in your own way that was both kind and manipulative.

Man does he love you.

Out of Damian’s brothers, you probably see Tim the most. He spends the most time at the Batcave, and since Damian is there often, and you run ground research over comms when you can, you’ve run into him many times. Sometimes you’ll help him get a fresh pair of eyes on a case, and sometimes he’ll spar with you. You’re not a full-time vigilante, but the fact that you know how to defend yourself puts both yours and Damian’s minds at ease, and Tim is closest in build to you, so he’s the best teacher, not counting the girls.

He doesn’t usually show up at your apartment, though. It figures that when he does, he’s bleeding out on your couch.

You get home from running an errand at 9pm, expecting an empty apartment. Instead, you find Red Robin sprawled out on your couch, digging through his utility belt, and bleeding from a wound on his leg.

You drop the bag you were holding and hurry towards him.

“If you’re going to drop by, how about a little more texting and a little less bleeding out.”

Tim looks up sharply, then relaxes. “Sorry,” he mutters, still clumsily sifting through his utility belt. “I didn’t think anyone would be home.”

You swat his hands away and search through his pockets yourself, pulling out a piece of gauze and shoving it against the wound.

“How did you-ah- how did you know…?”

“How did I know where to look? First, I’ve stocked your belts before, where do you think the new equipment comes from? And second -don’t tell Damian- but you and he keep your medical supplies in the same spot.” You press his hand over the gauze. “Put pressure on this. I’m going to grab the first aid kit.” Tim nods, his face white, and you stand to grab the huge kit you keep in the master bathroom.

When you return, Tim has switched the soaked gauze for a new piece, and switched hands, too, exposing a red spot on his stomach armor as well. You bat his hand away, angry.

“And you thought it was a good idea to hide this from me?” Tim winces, likely from your tone.

“I forgot about it.”

You sigh. “Ok, we’ve got to get this costume off.”

By the time you’ve managed to get Tim out of his costume, clean and stitch his wounds, help him change into clean clothes and wash off some of the dirt and grime covering him, it’s just after eleven, and you shove Tim into your and Damian’s bed to sleep. There’s no way you’re letting him go home in his condition. You’re just hoping Damian chooses the living room window instead of the bedroom one tonight.

At 1:45 am, your hopes are dashed when you hear Damian’s voice raised to a near-yell and a softer voice responding. You enter as fast as you can, but you’re surprised that Damian’s not about to kick Tim out. Instead, he’s glaring.

“You put him in our bed?”

You shrugged. “He’s injured. You would have done the same.”

It’s a testament to how much his relationship with Tim has grown that he doesn’t immediately deny it.

“Tt. You owe me one, Drake.”

Tim rolls his eyes and falls back asleep in response. You stifle a laugh and drag Damian out of the room, pushing him towards the guest bathroom. “We can sleep on the couch; I’ll take the covering off of it and wash that tomorrow.”

Damian looks at you; the expression on his face has faded from irritation to adoration. “Thank you, beloved.”

You don’t even see Cass until you turn away from what you were doing in the kitchen. You’re pretty sure you don’t startle outwardly, but it’s a near thing, and Cass can probably tell anyway. She’s sitting on the couch on your laptop, and you don’t even ask how she got through the passcode and locking mechanisms. Instead, you turn to the fridge and grab the orange juice and pour her (then yourself) a cup and sit next to her on the couch. You like Cass, and she’s one of Damian’s siblings that he outwardly respects, so her visits are usually well-received, though she does so rarely, and never with advanced notice. You see her more often at the cave, and you find her great to spar with because she never makes you feel inferior for your lesser skills, and teaches you ways to knock her brothers down a peg without having to tell you that's what she's doing.

You hand her the TV remote as she passes you back your laptop, and she flicks the TV on and heads right to Netflix, clicking on the next episode of a TV show you started but never really got into. Three hours later, though, you’re laughing hysterically as Cass mutters under her breath about the characters’ idiotic actions.

“Why do they go to that building? It is obviously wrong.”

“None of the action would exist if they knew what they were doing, Cass,” you say, smiling so hard your face hurts.

“Hm.”

You hear the click of keys as Damian opens the door and he toes his boots off and grabs a bottle of water before sinking down next to you on the couch. Cass’s eyes don’t move from the screen.

“These people are stupid.”

“Tt, there is much worse,” Damian says, his elbow brushing yours.

Cass hands the remote to Damian who pulls up a different show of the same genre. You’ve watched that one already once, with your own family, and ten minutes in you know you’ll never be able to watch it the same again, but it’s without a doubt worth it.

When Steph stops by your apartment, it’s not a social call nor vigilante business. Instead, she picks the lock on the living room window, turns off the alarms, and precedes to sit at your kitchen table and pull out a backpack full of notebooks. She pulls out her laptop and a notebook before even looking at you. Steph shrugs at your raised eyebrow.

“I needed someplace to work where I’ll actually get the motivation, and it’s quiet.”

You’ve given up on trying to get the bat family to let you know when they’re coming over, so instead you shrug and go back to your own homework assignment. At least she didn’t show up bleeding.

2K notes · View notes

emotionally-damaged-carrot · 2 years

Note

hello!! can i request something?

could you do male reader x steven grant? where the reader is usually flirtatious, tough and overly protective over steven but one day he felt so overwhelmed as he had some bottled up personal problems that he never talked about. then one day, reader showed up at the museum to see steven without the male's acknowledge. reader showed up with an obvious change of behaviour but tries to hide it away. steven was curious about it and asked but reader just denies it. until later in steven's apartment, reader showed his extreme vulnerable side of him -- he broke down suddenly. of course comfort and fluff afterwards.

if you're taking this request thank you very much!! sorry this is quite long. have a great day dear author.

Steven Grant x Male Reader

Bottles break

I am so so sorry this took so long, I just didn't know how to write this one. And I hope I didn't ruin it by adding extra stuff, sorry if there wasnt enough of what you asked for. Just ran out of words to put. But I can rewrite this if you want. Just send an ask, don't be shy. (No proofread sorry, It's 2am here and I don't have the energy. Sorry.)

Steven is just a little bean, very innocent. And I wanted to keep it that way, away from the harmful things of the world, to keep his mind clean. But you know what they say. Sometimes even the bravest feel fear, even the strongest can feel weak, even the happiest ones can feel sad. And same goes for me. Now I knew that keeping it all bottled up inside me was not a good thing, that someday that bottle will break.

———

Hearing Donna talk to Steven wasn't really a good sign.

"Stop staring at Y/n and get back to work, Stevie. You look like a stalker."

"Give the man a break, Donna. He's been working all morning, plus, it's almost lunch."

Donna rolls her eyes and walks away.

"Y-you didn't have to do that, love."

"You should really stop letting people like Donna push you around."

I say walking over to him behind the counter.

"I know, I know. It's just that, I-I'm really one to escalate situations."

"Of course, always the defuser."

I say finally making it to his side and hugging him, burrying my face on his chest. His hand going up to my hair to pet me.

"Where'd you wanna eat lunch?"

I say lifting my heal up to look at him face to face, eyes staring at each other.

"Anywhere you want, as long as they have something vegan."

He says with a smile looking down at me.

———

After lunch we went back to the museum and just did our thing for the rest of the day 'til closing time.

"Darling, would you like to go out tonight?"

I heard Steven say to me as we get ready to leave.

"I don't see why not."

I say looking at him with a smile as he packs up.

Going out of the museum, we decided to get home first and change before going out.

On our way, to this steak place that steven found, that surprisingly has imitation meat and salad. After ordering our food, we sat in comfortable silence for a while just looking around and on ocassions, each other which makes us blush whenever one catches the other.

"Your meal has arrived, and we hope you enjoy it."

The waiter says as he sets the food infront of us.

"Which one is the umm the vegan one?"

Steven asks not even looking down at the steak.

"That would be the one with the little flag, sir."

The waiter answers with a chuckle.

"Right, sorry about that."

Steven apologizes looking down in embarrassment.

"No problem, sir. If there is no more questions I will leave you to your meal."

The waiter says walking away.

"This place is kinda posh, innit."

Steven says with a small smile on his face.

"I quite like it, no toddlers running around cause havoc."

"Yea."

We eat in silence, until I ask Steven about the poster of the ennead that was outside the museum. Which inturn gets him rambling until the end of the meal. With me not really listening to him speaking. Just looking at his face just admiring his coffe black eyes, that just shines with excitement and that smile that never fails to make me fall even more inlove with him.

"Are you listening?"

"O-of course I was, what made you think I wasn't?"

"The staring gave it away."

"What can I say? You're just handsome."

I say which succesfully makes him blush.

"So are you, you the most handsome man I have met."

Steven said, which caught me by surprise.

"No wonder you're always blushing around me, you are always graced by my divinity."

I say making Steven blush more and clear his throat.

"Let's just get home, it's getting late."

He says getting up and waiting for me to get up as well, before walking. Making our way to our apartment.

———

It's been a week since those events have passed, everyday I tried protecting Steven from Donna and such. Just trying to keep him the way he is, but he will want to explore. And that is something I might not be able to help with. Especially with me just keeping all my problems inside, with my mother's death recently, my father abbandoning me before I was even born the wounds are still open, not fresh, but not scars. Just kept it all hidden, bottled up inside me.

And here I am, sitting on our bed, tears running down my face. The bottle had too many cracks, it was only a matter of time before it would shatter, luckily Steven was at work. I told him to tell Donna I was not feeling too well, which is not a lie, so I got the say off. Steven wouldn't be back until 6pm, or so I thought.I wasn't expecting Steven to come home during lunch.

"Y/n? I got us food, thought it would only be nice for us to eat together."

He says as he opens the bedroom door, seeing me in the state I am in, which is not too great. Eyes red, tear stains visible on my cheeks, still breathing heavily and soft sobs coming out.

"Oh no no, what happened, love, are you okay?"

He says walking closer to me and sitting on the bed beside me, hugging me, pulling me close to his body, by head on his chest. Now laying down on the bed with his back resting on the head board, one arm on my waist holding me tight, and the other going up and down my back in a soft carres.

"Come on, love, are you okay? You wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head now crying and full on sobbing.

"I-I-I never H-had anyo-ne ask me i-if I'm okay b-before."

I say muffled and stumbling on my words.

"You don't have to tell me now if you don't want to. I will always be here when you need me. I will be the rock you build upon, the light at the end of the tunnel, the hand to hold you when you feel lonely and I will give you the love you need and deserve. We can talk about it when you're ready."

Hearing him say that, makes my heart flatter as he puts his face on my hair giving me kisses.

"C-can we just s-stay here for a w-while?"

"Of course, whatever makes you happy."

"T-thanks."

"I should be thanking you, for all those times you stood up for me, for all those time you saved me from Donna's lectures. And I'm sorry for not checking up on you sooner. I promise to be a better person. Just please, talk to me when you want to."

He says muffled by the hair.

"Sleep, love, we can talk about it whenever you feel like it."

He says giving my head a kiss and carresing the back of my head, finger running up and down. While still keeping me in a tight embrace.

"T-thank you."

"I will be here for you, always."

#x male reader #x reader #moon knight #y/n #gay #marvel #mcu #steven grant x reader #steven grant x male reader #steven grant x y/n

129 notes · View notes

trickrydomain · 2 years

Text

MEMES FROM THE GODLESS LAND OF TIKTOK REVISITED

the below prompts are a mix of general thoughts, 2am thoughts, suggestive prompts, and some nihilistic / possibly triggering prompts related to self reflection.

your bones are wet.

i prefer my puns intended.

alexa, turn off my emotions.

i’m baby, and i’m fucking cute.

you have failed the vibe check.

beef jerky is just meat raisins.

*brandishing a knife* cuddle me.

the point of golf is to play less golf.

i’m shaving my legs, then i’m on my way.

do you like potatoes? no? then fuck you.

the gods don’t want to fuck you!! stop!!

listen here you delicious fuck, i like you.

bold of you fucks to assume that i’m not god.

i can be your comfort and your favorite threat.

what’s your toxic trait? mine is being a bitch.

i want to suck you in like my one last cigarette.

hey did you hear there’s mercury in the gatorade.

that’s…that’s it? that’s your evil villain excuse?

who the fuck is playing music at 2 in the morning?!

are cakes with filling just really thick sandwiches?

i want you every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

i’m big spoon. i may be a backpack, but i’m big spoon.

if asexual is “shagnostic”, are bisexuals “ambisextrous”?

which one of you motherfuckers snitched on me to my mom?!

you come over here right now and smack my ass like a drum.

i’m a top! i may be a crop top, but i’m still a fucking top.

what song do you think could be made in to a good sea shanty?

( sender tries to lift a heavy rock to impress the receiver.)

if bears aren’t meant to be hugged, why are they friend-shaped?

if your tongue sticks when you lick it it’s a bone! *clap clap*

you’re the best kind of fucking person and i would die for you.

i didn’t see that coming. probably because i had my back turned.

living people eat dead mushrooms. living mushrooms eat dead people.

fried eggs and fried chicken are different stages of the same food.

shiny knick knacks go click clack *shakes [small objects] together*

one day, i wanna be rich enough that my big fridge has a lil fridge.

the neighbors don’t take care of their dog so i guess it’s mine now.

you want my last name? that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.

i’m compact, okay? i know i’m small but that doesn’t mean i’m not strong.

this dude thinks he can seduce me with his jawline? *a scoff* he’s right.

mercury might be in gatorade, but the pug had bones. let’s get this bread.

my electronic toothbrush died, so now i have to brush my teeth acoustically.

the only b-word i’ll ever call you is beautiful. (a pause) i love you, bitch.

i don’t know why people call it the roof of their mouth when it’s the ceiling.

i believe there are aliens in the ocean and nobody ever fucking listens to me.

i’m….so sorry….i’ve learned….my lesson (throws an object to distract and runs away).

i just found out what a biblically correct angel looks like and honestly, i’m scared.

trauma isn’t just the bad things that happened. it’s also the good things that never came.

if you’re sad or mad, shove that shit down deep and eat an uncrustable like the rest of us.

i called you to this meeting because i’m sad and you’re supposed to do something about that.

you want to take a shower? you gotta knock on the wall and ask the water to come out nicely.

flirt with me just right and, as long as you respect my boundaries, you could unlock my wares.

there’s the saying ‘you are what you eat’…now i’m concerned for the people who say ‘i’m baby’.

i was doing stuff with my birth chart and i was not prepared to learn that the moon knows i’m gay.

don’t you hate it when you’re trying to pick a scenario to fall asleep to and there’s nothing good on?

i’m just saying, when you go underwater, you enter a dimension where you can fly but you can’t breathe.

do you know who gets sent in when people want to act a fool? this basic bitch who’s secretly full of rage.

the only way capitalism can become beneficial is if it becomes legal to eat the rich once they become too wealthy.

sure my body’s a temple, but you know what? some temples are unkempt and falling apart and maybe a little bit haunted.

in other news, the sexual position known as 69 will now be called 96. due to the economy, the cost of eating out has gone up.

i was just walking outside and it looks like someone fell (evidence that they are the one that fell) i feel bad for that idiot.

god making me was like, “little bit of sugar, little bit of spice, little bit of everything nice…and a big ol’ heaping handful of bitch.”

i was single for a long time, like a long time. but then i met the love of my life. he is my boyfriend - he doesn't know it yet, but he is.

are you under the impression that i allow everyone in my life to treat me like this, or are you asking me to make an exception just for you? answer quickly.

look, what i’m saying is an apology is not worth saying if you don’t feel bad about what you did and it’s not really an apology unless it features an admission of fault and a promise to not repeat the behavior.

i don’t know what happened but the toilet is smoking! ( cut to inside a bathroom, two rolls of toilet paper have been placed on the closed lid to resemble eyes, and a tube is pinned between the lid and seat, resembling a cigar )

#✑ memes — ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ .#// feel free to reblog without sending

26 notes · View notes

justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Make it Work: Chapter 3

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: This is just a fluffy transitional chapter. Next chapter we’ll dive deeper into the meat of the story, but I think this chapter still has some pretty important conversations that touch a lot on their relationship/dynamic. Thank you to everyone who has been following this story so far! I really appreciate the feedback and kind words! :)

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the--carousel , @maya-asturias

Read on AO3 or below

“You’ve been to New York before, right?” Hailey asked as Jay peered out the window of the plane, looking at the illuminated streets and buildings down below. It was a late flight into New York, so their plan was to crash as soon as they arrived and take the next day to get settled in.

“Uh, yeah a few times. The last few times it was for work. We flew out to work with Manhattan SVU on a few cases,” he said. The thought brought back a flood of memories, most of them ones he had tried to forget.

“I think I’ve heard Voight talk about that before. He’s close with the Sergeant there right? Her name is something Benson?” she questioned.

“Yeah, Olivia Benson. Last I heard she’s a Captain now. She’s a great cop though, reminds me a lot of you actually,” he said

“Oh yeah?” She questioned, sounding shocked by the compliment.

“For sure. She’s got this real solid exterior like nothing can touch her, but somehow she’s still able to have this bleeding heart underneath it all. It makes her great at what she does, and it also just makes her a total badass. We had lost one of our own through one of the cases we were working with her. Erin took it hard, but Olivia was really good to her through it all,” he said, shocking himself with the way Erin’s name thoughtlessly fell out of his mouth.

“We’ve never really talked about Erin before,” Hailey muttered, almost like she was saying it to herself. Jay took a deep breath, brows raising as he realized the truth behind the statement.

“Yeah, I mean- there’s not much to say,” he said unconvincingly. Hailey had come into his life at the burning end of his relationship with Erin. It was at a point when they weren’t close enough to talk about it, but she was present enough to figure out what was going on. After Erin left, the relationship was something he and Hailey never discussed, despite her being left with the carnage of it all. As his partnership with her developed, he noticed her picking up the pieces of him that Erin had left behind. He didn’t know it at the time, but in a way she was saving him. When his feelings for Hailey began to shift, he started to think back on that onset period of their partnership. Part of this reflection made his feelings grow even stronger because he realized nobody in his life had ever pushed him the way Hailey did, and she did it before she ever really knew him. Instead of giving up on him or even just abandoning him altogether, she stayed and she made him fight to work on himself.

“Do you ever talk to her?” Hailey asked timorously, interrupting Jay’s wandering thoughts.

“I haven’t talked to her since she left, no. She’s reached out to Voight a few times. Last he told me she’s working at some FBI office in London,” he told her. She responded only through a nod and a hum.

“As much as her leaving messed me up, I know now that we never would’ve lasted even if she had stayed,” he admitted, looking over at Hailey who had a hopeful look on her face. “I can’t blame it all on her because I was messed up back then too, but we just weren’t good for each other. Instead of pushing each other to be better, we made it a pattern to just push each other away when things got tough. I now realize that if a partnership is going to work, you’ve gotta fight for it even when things get tough. You taught me that,” he said, looking down at Hailey with a sentimental look.

She looked back at him silently, her eyes peering into Jay’s affectionately. After a moment, her lips parted slightly as if she were going to say something, but instead she just pursed her lips into a light smile.

“Yeah, I only did it because I didn’t want to search for another partner. Too much work,” she teased, causing Jay to bump her elbow playfully.

“Seriously though. I’ve never thanked you for it, but I’m really grateful you stuck around. I know it wasn’t easy, but I’m definitely a better person because of you,” he confessed sincerely. The amusement fell from her face as she tilted her head to the side, taking in his words wholeheartedly.

“You know I could say the same for you? You’ve stuck around me more times than I can count, especially when I’ve done some pretty questionable things. It’s why we work. We’re better together,” she said, bumping her shoulder up against his. She smiled warmly at him, leaving him utterly smitten. That one look from her confirmed to him that he made the right decision taking the job. She was meant to be in his life, and he was meant to be in hers. He was just grateful she gave him the opportunity to make that possible. She eventually broke their gaze, sighing shakily before changing the subject.

“So when you were in the city, did you get to do any sightseeing?” she asked.

“Not at all. It was straight from the airport to the precinct. We were so busy with the cases I never really got to even take it in. Even though this isn’t going to be my first time there, it’s going to be my first time really getting to know it. Did you get the chance to poke around when you were there?”

“Yeah, a bit. OA took me around to different bars after shift a few nights. During the day, he would show me the best little hole in the wall lunch spots. Mainly my experience was chasing cases and food,” she chuckled. “There was this one spot he pointed me towards. A must see, he called it. I ended up going there my last night and honestly that spot alone would be enough to make you want to move. It’s a big field of grass at the edge of the city right by the river. To me it was a refreshing reminder that nature can still exist in the city, and it was just so quiet and peaceful. I sat there and watched the sunset, just absolutely amazed by the view, but also surprised by the way I was falling in love with the city. Actually, I think I took some pictures. Let me see,” she said, pulling out her phone.

As she pulled out her phone to show him, he leaned over to get a better look. His face was close to hers and their shoulders squished tightly together as he got a better look of the photos. She swiped through pictures of the sun peeking through buildings and others of purplish pink skies above the Williamsburg Bridge. The last swipe revealed a photo of her smiling in front of the sunset. The light gave her face a glowing tone and her hair was down, her light waves framing her face perfectly.

“That’s a great picture,” he said softly, struck by her beauty. He turned his head to look at her the same time she did, their faces so close together he could feel her breath on his face. She inhaled sharply before turning back to her phone, her face turning a bright red.

“Thanks,” she said bashfully. “Anyway, you’ll definitely have to go there yourself. Pictures don’t do it justice,” she said, putting her phone away.

Jay didn’t realize it, but he was still staring at her, his position not moving from when they were face to face a few minutes prior. When she shifted to look over at him again, he quickly adjusted, moving backward in his seat and distancing himself from her. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself.

“Um yeah, totally. It looks really nice,” he stammered out, embarrassed she had caught him in the gaze.

After the conversation, they sat in silence until they ended up dozing off for the rest of the flight. They both woke just before landing and debarked the plane in silence with all of the other sluggish passengers. By the time they landed, it was 2am and the airport was eerily quiet as they walked through the terminal to get to the cab stand. Their places were just a few blocks away from one another, so they decided to share a cab into the city. Being that it was so late, they didn’t have to wait long to find a ride. Jay opened the door as it pulled up, letting Hailey slide in first and climbing in right after.

“Despite how exhausted I am, this is already a better experience from last time,” she uttered, leaning her head back into the seat. He sent her a questioning look, urging her to elaborate. “I was so angry and confused that day, I’m pretty sure I spent the entire flight with a permanent frown on my face. I was so pissed off.. at myself, at Voight, at the situation. It took me until I was walking in the doors of the FBI for me to actually process what was happening,” she admitted, her eyes looking into the ceiling.

“Yeah, that first day at work without you was pretty weird. Voight told me immediately that you had taken an assignment in New York. He wouldn’t give me anything more. Said if I wanted details I needed to ask you,” he responded, his head leaned against the glass.

Hailey frowned at his words, quietly staring into the floor as if she were deep in thought.

Jay would never admit it, but he was pretty messed up that day thinking she had just gone off for good without saying goodbye. He called her after shift to make sure she was okay. She was brief, but she cleared up what Voight didn’t: the assignment was temporary and it wasn’t her decision. The next few weeks, they kept in touch more through FaceTime and text. It soon became a natural thing for them to call each other in the evenings as they unwound from their days. As nice as those moments were, he was glad that it was a temporary thing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” she finally mumbled, barely loud enough for Jay to hear. He turned to look at her, tilting his head slightly as he questioned her words.

“I thought about going over to your place that night to tell you, but I was so embarrassed by the reason he was shipping me off, I didn’t think I could face you. I should’ve told you though,“ she admitted, a furtive look on her face.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he told her, shaking his head lightly.

“No, but I did then. You’ve had enough people in your life leave without saying goodbye. I should’ve been there to explain it myself. You’re my partner and you deserved an explanation,” she said bluntly, eyes holding steady ahead of her to avoid his.

“Hailey, we’re good. And for what it’s worth, you never have to be embarrassed with me,” he noted, flashing her a sincere smile. She nodded meekly, smiling back before sighing and leaning back into her seat.

He meant what he said. She didn’t owe him an explanation, but he did appreciate the sentiment. It gave him hope about the permanence of her in his life. Every conversation they shared that night comforted him in a way. Even though talking about Erin wasn’t his favorite, it was relieving to get some of what he said off his chest.

As they drove towards the city, he recognized the irony of it all. New York was the thing that kept him and Erin apart, but it became the thing keeping him and Hailey together. Whatever New York was before, it was now his home. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to actually feel like home, but part of him knew that Hailey’s presence already made it feel that way. He looked over at her, knowing that whatever uncertainties he encountered from then on out, she would be his constant. A smile crept across his face in the dark, and he leaned his head back into the window, taking in the new city with a newfound anticipation.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead fic

51 notes · View notes

thegracelessfaceless · 3 years

Text

Rival matchup time:

"So, I’m Elsie, she/her/hers, and bi (but I lean heavily towards men rn). I’m a Virgo sun, Scorpio rising and Aquarius moon. I’m also an introvert, but I love being around other people! I just get,,,,, tired easily.

I’m East Asian + Southeast Asian (Chinese and Vietnamese). I’m barely 5’0 tall! Long, black hair that reached my upper thighs and dark brown eyes that you can’t even see the pupil lmfao. I always have painted nails, usually red. I’m pretty athletic and I also like to think I have nice thighs—most of my workouts include building up my legs lol. I wear big gold hoop earrings. I also wear round Harry Potter glasses. My body isn’t very curvy, in fact I’m pretty flat but I am COVERED in stretch marks. I also have acne flare ups from time to time but it’s usually nothing noticeable anymore.

I’d like to think I’m a pretty chill person, likes to go with the flow and stuff like that. My friends say I’m often their therapist or their mom, which is kinda funny because that’s what I’m in uni for, to be a therapist. I’m a pretty determined and motivated person? I like to push myself pretty hard ngl but I also like to just hang out and take it slow. I also like to do stupid things like exploring abandoned buildings at 2am. I’m also big into intersectional feminism. I’ve also been told I’m really approachable and friendly, but bro I am so shy and quiet in public unless I get to know you.

I can get pretty stubborn tbh, it depends once again on what the topic is but once I’ve set my mind to it, that’s how it’s going to be. I also have low self esteem and my depression sometimes makes it hard for me to even get out of bed at times. I usually don’t know when to stop giving myself to other people, which means I get pretty exhausted and fast. I’m also prone to overthinking which stresses me out. And when I’m stressed, I can honestly get a little bitey.

I apologize to inanimate objects if I’ve bumped into them, and I also have a tendency to talk to myself? I also am a witch! I’m currently elbows deep in some deity work and ngl my energy is all over the place. I also have a weird habit of waving to security cameras I see in public because I like to think the people watching those cameras get a kick out of it lol.

I really like coffee, tea, singing with my ukulele, playing piano, drawing and art in general. I haven’t been able to draw as much as I’d like recently but I do have some animatics in my head. I also really like Victoria’s Secret perfumes, specifically strawberry pound cake—it’s what I always smell like lol. Crystals are super fun imo. I live next to a huge lake and it’s honestly one of my favorite places to be. Ocean animals are my favorite! I also really like car rides with like, one other person and just exploring the world and talking. The music I listen to is a lot of classic rap, lofi-hip hop, modern rap, some pop artists and Ella Fitzgerald, Gloria Gaynor, HaroinFather, KYLE, and ofc Hollywood Undead.

I cannot stand centipedes those things horrify me. I also don’t like rude people, bigots, people who purposely start drama or hypocrites. People who put other people down aren’t cool either. I don’t really like parties or being around lots of people, they make me anxious and kinda suffocated. People who try to force me to do stuff aren’t cool in my books either. I also think red meat is kinda gross, but that’s just because it makes me exhausted."

Your rival is:

ŇƗŇΔ ŦĦ€ ҜƗŁŁ€Ř

So I've done a ton of reflecting and have finally arrived at this rivalry.

I feel like you would end up defending yourself after Nina attacks you while you're trying to talk some sense into her about her obsession with Jeff.

I mean, really. This girl carved herself up to look more like him.

She even uses a version of his catchphrase, ffs!

While its fun to write about, Nina's level of obsession with Jeff is pretty harmful to not only others, but herself.

So you try to do what you would do with any rational adult. You take her out to lunch and try to talk with her about it.

You take her to a local pizza buffet and the two of you talk over every kind of pizza toy could imagine.

It was all great... Right up until it wasn't anymore.

You'd overlooked a major flaw in your master plan. You treated Nina like a normal, rational, adult. Nina was none of the above.

Sure, she may be an adult physically.

But it's like her obsession had stunted her emotional growth.

So, naturally, Nina thinks you're trying to talk her into forgetting about Jeff so you could have him all to yourself 🙄

She grabs you by the back of the shirt and pulls you through the restaurant and out into the parking lot.

"Nina, are we really doing this?" you ask her. She sneers at you and lets go of your shirt with a shove.

"You thought I was that dumb, didn't you?" Nina began slowly pacing back and forth, within the confines of the lines of the parking space.

You'd seen a panther at the zoo pace like that at the front of his habitat. He walked back and forth in front of his home, but his eyes, fierce and cunning, stayed on the people gathered to look at him. He didn't look at them as if they were a threat. He looked at them like prospective meals. Dinner. Midnight snack. Breakfast. Supper. Dinner again. Nina looked at you like that now.

"You thought you could just take me out, tell me I'm crazy and obsessed with the love of my life, and what? That I'd just back off? Say, 'You're right, Elsie, what was I thinking?!' and we'd laugh and go to your house and watch chick flicks and laugh into the wee hours of the morning?"

Nina huffed and rolled her eyes, "Spare me, bitch." Nina started closing in, flicking her knife open. It had little charms hanging from it like a heart, a grumpy storm cloud, an excited yam, and a beaming milkshake cup. They were the cutest, most impractical thing you'd ever seen.

You weren't surprised when Nina rushed you and you stepped to the side at the last moment, catching the wrist of her knife hand in your hand and shoving the heel of you hand into the back of her hand painfully, forcing her to drop the knife.

It fell to the pavement with a clatter and you used your foot to kick it away from the two of you.

Nina looks shocked and sad as she watches it spin away from her, and then it disappeared under a parked car.

Enraged by the loss of her knife, Nina rushed you again and screams in your face.

She grabbed your arm tightly and watched as you looked at your arm where her hand gripped. Something about your expression made her let go. But...

"I won't let you have him" she snarled and she lunged again, this time knocking you off your feet. Nina rode your body to the ground, sitting on your chest and upper stomach to pin you.

"I don't want him, Nina" you spat at her, the first stirrings of anger coiling up inside of you, "What will make you see?"

"Leave us alone" she said and as she reached down and fisted a handful of your hair and used it to knock your head into the ground a couple of times, "Leave us alone so I can show my sweet prince how happy we could be."

"What do you mean 'we'?" you ask Nina, "the only reason Jeff knows you exist is because everyone started warning him about this crazy fan girl. If we're truthful, he's stated that you kind of scare him."

"You expect me to believe that he's afraid? Afraid of anything? Especially afraid of a girl much smaller than him who would give him anything he asked for. Anything.'

She punctuated that last word with another attempt to thump your skull into the ground, but you tightened your muscles and wouldn't allow the movement.

Nina let go to slap you and you threw your body upwards, throwing Nina off of you, and you sat up and crawled over to pin Nina down.

"Just give up," you hiss at her, "I don't want him, I swear it. But don't lie to yourself anymore. Jeff will never love you, not the way you want him to. He may fear you, Nina, but he'll never love you."

You watched as a myriad of emotions cross over her face. Rage. Uncertainty. Denial. Stubbornness. Pleading. Her face collapsed into despair, which slowly faded to reluctant acceptance.

You move back slightly to let Nina up, rubbing the back of your head where it was starting to ache. When she doesn't make any aggressive movements, you let her up completely, offering her a hand to help her to her feet.

"So... You're gonna be alright?"

Nina shrugged slightly, looking drained and disenchanted, her arms crossing under her breasts to hold her.

"I'm sorry it had to be like this, Nina.."

"Go."

"I understand you probably hate me right now. You're hurt, but maybe in time we could make a friends-"

"Get out of my sight. Now" Nina growled, "I'll hurt you the next time I see you. Now go."

You turn away from Nina and start walking away. You get at least 500 feet away from her and stop, looking at her over your shoulder.

She looked so small, now, uncertain, folded in on herself as she hugged herself tightly, staring at nothing in particular in the middle distance between us.

"Nina" you call, "It's fine to hate me right now. But when you're not so raw about it, maybe we could hang out. Watch chick flicks, do each others nails and eat ice cream?"

The corner of Nina's mouth pulled up in a wry smile, "I'll think about it when I don't want to kill you."

You smile, "It's a start. Take care of yourself, Nina.

Ahh I hope you like it! I really tried to branch out from typical answers, too. I like to think that a rivalry with you wouldn't be like a lasting thing. You'd just do what you could to a) get them to listen, and b) keep yourself as safe as possible, and set them straight with no hard feelings afterwards.

#creepypasta #nina the killer #creepypasta rival matchup #creepypasta matchups #tw obsession

14 notes · View notes

tracycameron · 2 years

Text

And here we go.......

I can't sleep. It's 2am and I am wide awake. The thoughts, the amount of over-thinking, the am I doing the right thing keeps overplaying in my mind. I didn't grow up thinking that one day I would be in the position I am in. I don't think anyone does. Things happen, life happens, and the day we wake up and really take a good look at ourselves and see what every one else sees happens. I think this day happened a while back. I didn't want to believe it though until recently. I can't even begin to tell you how often I would cry myself to sleep or wake up in the middle of the night and think. But, now it's time to take action, and that is exactly what I am doing.

Today is my surgery day. Yes, folks, I am having surgery. For the past 2 weeks, I have cut sugar out of my diet, have only drank a protein drink for breakfast and lunch with a 4oz piece of meat and 1/2 cup of veggies for dinner with sugar-free Jello and popsicles in-between. With the exception of 2 small slices of pizza on Saturday night (I know, bad Tracy) I have stuck to the pre-op diet like a champ and I am down 18lbs. But, according to the my height and what the BMI calculator states, I have a long way to go. So, today, I am undergoing surgery to have a gastric sleeve placed.

Why am I sharing all of this with you. I honestly have no idea. I just needed to get some thoughts down and this is the rabbit hole I went to. I may hide things well, but I am an open book when it comes to sharing. And I know I am not the only one who is in this boat. And, if it can help someone else, then share away I will.

I may be quiet for a while, and that's ok. Just know I am here figuring this out as I go. I do though want to say, I honestly have THE VERY BEST support team around me and I know each and everyone of them will be by my side. Sarah, Angie, Jodi, Chris, Christina, Joelle, Melisa, Michelle, Beth, Tina and everyone else I forgot to mention, thank you for the countless text messages, 'you've got this' gifts, and check ins- you all have no idea how much it has meant to me. My girls, Jason, my parents, Kurt and Erin, my in-laws, and the rest of my family have been nothing short of supportive all the way through. My co-workers who I work so closely with are behind me 100% and picking up to help me get through. I truly have the upmost love and affection for each and everyone of you.

It's going to take one day at a time, and I know that these tiny steps are going to lead to a much happier and healthier future for me. Until then.

I'm fine. It's fine. Everything's fine.

2 notes · View notes

booksandseventeen · 4 years

Note

Ooo can I have a crackhead s/o headcanon with bokuto, iwazumi, kuroo, and tendou pleasee. Thank u💝

omg yesssss!!! love this!! Thanks for the request!

♛

Bokuto:

1 crackhead + 1 crackhead= RIP Akaashi for real for real

he’s dealing with not just one crackhead but mfing TWO

YALL BE DOING TIK TOK CHALLENGES LIKE IT PAYS RENT

There was this one time

where you and Bokuto thought it would be a great idea to do that challenge when you drink orange juice out of a toilet paper roll (aka, big ass straw)

it was a damn mess

orange juice everywhere

but you two are just rolling on the floor laughing

sleepovers consists of midnight runs to the store and watching scary movies and falling asleep is like watching two starfishes battle it out because you’re both battling it out for the covers

omg....halloween....IS THE BEST! I’M TALKING OUTFIT CHANGES EVER 3 HOURS! we got matching outfits, cosplay, sexy outfits (for both of you) halloween is seriously the best time of year for you two

akaashi be jealous of the inside jokes

he has less depressed moods because their s/o is always there to cheer them on or make a joke and he just started laughing

“Bokuto...” *hiccup* “i’m crying.”

“OMG S/O WHY!? WHO DO I NEED TO BEAT UP!?”

“I...I accidentally sent my fanfiction of ObamaXOikawa to my teacher instead of my essay.”

“.....do you want me to get akaashi to help us run away?”

“yes please.”

^^ thats 60% of your conversations. doing something embarrassing and trying to convince Bokuto to run away with you

Iwaizumi:

he fell for your happy-go-lucky attitude and they way you can turn everyones mood around

because thats what crackheads do...they are the life of the party

BUT DAMN HE DIDN’T KNOW THAT YOU BE LIKE THIS 24/9!?

“W-huh? It’s 2am.” he mumbles into the phone

“we’ll never truly knows what it smells like underwater......yes I am in the bath.....no, i’m not trying to drown myself Iwai~”

he appreciates how you always make his day interesting

like that time you decided to make him his lunch for a week but really it was just sweets and a coupon that says “hug redeem” (he uses that coupon everyday after practice.)

slowly....he’s turning into a crackhead himself

late night walk in the parks and pretending that you two are assassins sent on a mission to kill the archduke, AKA Oikawa

Oikawa can’t keep up with your jokes.

I gotta talk about his arms because I can’t write about him and NOT talk about his arms

*ahem* when he works out you have incorporate yourself in his workouts. laying across his body when he does pushups, instead of weights he’ll just deadlift you, you ride a bike beside him as he runs

smacking his ass every chance you get

damn, he loves his crackhead

Kuroo:

*Watches your antic from the background with the most beautiful smile on his face i’m crying*

You met on the train when you leaned over and taught Kenma how to find an easter egg in one of his games and then proceeded to voice act every action of every character

love at first joke

“Oya? did you make me into a sims character?” he asked, smirking as he leaned over to look at your computer screen. “....why did you just set me on fire?”

you are the LOUDEST at his games! with the biggest picture of his face anyone have ever seen. you know the ones i’m talking about.

once you heard his laugh, you made it your life mission to make him laugh like that once a day.

and you have, my dear crackhead

slaps his ass all day er’day

“your butt got no business *SLAPS* being this bouncy!”

“please...not in front of the children.” he says motioning to Kenma

he puts up with whatever you want to do, just happy to be with you and be along for the ride.

Tendou:

CRACK HEAD CONVERSATIONS EVERY NIGHT!

poor Ushijima gotta listen to them

The following is a conversation you two have at LEAST once a week:

s/o: I want to believe you’re a taurus but you’re acting like a FUCKING GEMINI!

Tendou: DON’T YOU SIGN SHAME ME!

s/o: I’m sorry! My planets are in retrograde!

Ushijima: the star’s arn’t real and the earth is flat you dumb fucks! NOW GO TO BED!”

Both you and tendou: “HAHAHAH... Leo’s~”

your favorite past is to pretend the two of you are in a reality tv show

you show up to his games with fire in your heart and a bullhorn for lungs

and he does the same for your games! or if you don’t play games he’ll pretend to be a tv announcer when you make supper or if you’re just shopping

“and whats this? they-they’re adding GARLIC POWDER TO THE TACO MEAT! AND THE CROWD GOES CRAZY!”

you read each other shonen jumps

cosplayyyyyy

you two were a match made in heaven

or hell, as Ushijima likes to call it

#hq headcanons #hq #hq ushijima #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto headcanons #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo haikyuu #kuroo headcanons #hq tendou #tendou satori #tendou headcanon #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haikyuu #iwaizumi x reader

49 notes · View notes

crowley-anthony · 4 years

Text

Tag Game!

I was tagged by @lydsmartin - Thank you so much! ❤️

1. What is the color of your hairbrush? - Black.

2. Name a food you never eat - Mushrooms. Gross.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? - I feel the temperature really badly either way. I can get very cold but the heat really affects me and I get too hot quickly so I’d probably say the warmth.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? - Was in work.

5. What’s your favorite candy bar? - Dairy Milk or Galaxy.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? - Yes, I’m not a sports person at all but when I went to San Diego I went to a baseball game, mostly to see what it was all about as I was travelling across USA at the time.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? - I can’t even remember, probably signing to my music, I’ve been trying to get through a list in work and put my headphones in to get on with it.

8. What is your favourite ice cream? - One of my favourites is Bacio, which is like chocolate and hazelnuts and I had it pretty much every day when I was Italy.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? - Water

10. Do you like your wallet? - Yes. I bought a new one recently.

11. What is the last thing you ate? - A vegan chocolate orange coated almond. I bought them earlier as I was intrigued and they’re pretty good.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? - Yes, online. Wanted some boots and bought a shirt and a blazer too as I couldn’t stop myself.

13. What’s the last sporting event you watched? - Have literally no idea.

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? - Sweet.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? - My dad.

16. Ever been camping? - Yes. I’m a bit of a scaredy cat at times but I went camping in Canada where there were chances for bears and other wildlife to cross our path. On the first night I needed the toilet at 2am and I was so scared to leave the tent I sat crying for ages haha. I eventually had the courage to go out, otherwise I would have peed myself.

17. Do you take vitamins? - Yes, only because I’m a bit low in some things due to me being ill recently.

18. Do you regularly attend a place of worship? - No.

19. Do you have a tan? - No, I am pale AF.

20. Do you prefer chinese or pizza? - Pizza. I like Chinese food but the Chinese here is not healthy and has tons of MSG in it and I get sick from MSG so I can’t eat much of it.

21. Do you drink your soda through a straw? - I don’t drink soda but if I have it on the odd occasion, usually not.

22. What color socks do you usually wear? - Black or white.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? - I haven’t driven since I passed my test and I don’t have a car.

24. What terrifies you? - Losing close ones.

25. Look to your left, what do you see? - A paper shredder.

26. What chore do you hate most? - Literally everything. I hate cleaning. I’ve just had to defrost my freezer recently which is an absolute nightmare :| Apart from that hoovering (vacuuming) is pretty annoying.

27. Wat do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? - You’re hot (I LOVE Australian accents).

28. What’s your favorite soda? - I don’t drink soda much but I do love a cherry Coke or Dr. Pepper.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? - I can’t go through a drive through by myself anyway as I don’t have a car so I go inside.

30. What’s your favorite number? - I’ve never had a favourite number.

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? - Either my mum or dad (EDIT -No, it would have been someone in work but can’t remember who).

32. Favorite meat? - I eat chicken the most but I love a steak.

33. Last song you listened to? - ‘Thank U, Next’ by Ariane Grande.

34. Last book you read? - Does fanfiction count?

35. Favorite day of the week? - Saturday or Sunday

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? - Yep

37. How do you like your coffee? - Milky

38. Favorite pair of shoes? - A staple is my converse but I love black boots, I just bought a pair of faux snake print boots which I’m loving.

39. Time you normally get up? - When I was working in the office it would be around 6 - 6:30am but now I’m working from home it’s more like 7:15 - 7:45am.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? - Sunset

41. How many blankets on your bed? - One.

42. Describe your kitchen plates - Mis-matched af.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment - I only had a small amount of time for lunch today so I have left my dishes so I need to wash them :/

44. Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? - I love cider but recently I have come to love flavoured gin. I’m not hardcore with alcohol, I like the stuff that tastes like sweets haha.

45. Do you play cards? - Sometimes

46. What color is your car? - I don’t have one.

47. Can you change a tire? - No, wouldn’t know where to begin, I’d probably call someone lol.

48. Your favorite state or province? - I’m not sure about a state as a whole as I live in the UK but when I visited the USA My favourite place was probably New York.

49. Favorite job you’ve had? - The job I have now. I help manage a team, the place I work is great and they have been so great since working from home.

Tagging: @bartonclinton, @gracechoi, @springmagpies, @ofitzsimmons, @jemmafitzsimmons, @sabs1d, @agentreeb

#things i'm in #thanks for tagging me i'm still catching up on these #i honestly can't remember who i tagged in my last ones #so sorry if i'm spamming you #laura's ramblings #text post

8 notes · View notes

jennygirl2014 · 4 years

Text

Just Deserts-Chapter 2

(It’s finally here! Sorry for the delay! I didn’t proofread or edit yet, so please don’t hate me, I will fix it up later. I just wanted to get it up. Thanks for reading!)

Chapter Summary: Tawney goes over to Ransom’s for the first time, hoping to keep it professional. But of course the arrogant asshole has to try and get under her skin.) Warnings: language, some mild racism.

Chapter 2

“This guy could be a murderer.” Kira’s voice carried over the kitchen. She was busy getting her station set up for the day, having just arrived. Meanwhile, even though it was only a little after ten in the morning, Tawney was cleaning up her mess for the day. “Or a rapist. You don’t know. Call him up and tell him to shove his deal up his ass.”

“And how else do I pay to have the car fixed without insurance?” Tawney replied as she placed the last of her dishes in the industrial dishwasher. “He was gonna call the cops!”

“We could have a bake sale. You know people love your desserts. We could raise the money somehow.” Kira walked over, wiping her wet hands with a rag.

“Cupcakes aren’t going to fix this, Ki.” Tawney finally looked her friend in the face. “Besides, I don’t even have his number.”

“Even more reason not to go!” Kira fussed, “Seriously. You’re signing up to be some creepy stranger’s house maid.”

“It’s just cooking and baking. How else can I pay to have a freaking Beemer fixed?”

“A Beemer? Fucking rich dickhead…” Kira scoffed.

“If things get creepy, I’ll leave.”

“You better. And you better not let him talk down to you. If he does, slip something extra into a pie or something.” Typical Kira.

Tawney knew her friend meant well, and she had every right to be concerned. The truth was, Tawney really was nervous about the whole thing, but she didn’t see any other options at the moment. After she had managed to get home the night before, she could barely sleep, between the adrenaline, the guilt, the anxiety of the unknown, and also not having a working air conditioner. She still managed to roll out of bed and make it into work, extra early, at 2AM, just to be sure she could leave to get to this stranger’s house by noon. Her lack of sleep was likely clouding her judgement as well, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. She was just grateful that her boss loaned her a spare key and that he had given her permission to go in so early.

She had to use her GPS to find this guy’s house, which meant keeping her phone within sight, something that she was terrified over after how using her phone while driving had resulted the night before. During the drive she was scolding herself for agreeing to this, this guy, Ransom, was a complete stranger. Hell, he could have been a real perv, especially after how he jumped at the idea of being paid in other forms the night before, something that was not on her mind at all. But he was a good looking guy, he was likely used to women just dropping to their knees for him. Well, that wasn’t who she was. And once she pulled into the driveway and finally saw this guy’s house, she was sure he was used to having all sorts of female company. He was secluded, his house hidden by a wall of trees, yet practically the whole house was made of glass. So many windows, so much to see, and like there was nothing he had to hide. Just stepping foot into this house, she was going to feel exposed.

Her car rattled into a spot next to his and she parked it. The damage on his car really wasn’t as bad as hers had been, and she eyed the scratched up side of his car before she fought with the broken handle to release the door to get out. Every foot step up to his door made her heart pound harder, and her knife bag felt heavy as it hung from her shoulder. When she was close enough to press the doorbell, she froze, thinking. She still had time to run away, she could turn back and race out of there without him even knowing she was there. How would he know? How would he find her? Maybe she could get away with this whole thing, no service required.

Just as she started to weigh the decision in her mind, the door swung open and there he stood, the same man from the previous night. His blue t-shirt fit relaxed on his broad frame, but it still showed off a certain physique that caught her eye. Hell, her eyes fell right onto his chest, and she instinctively held her breath. “Good, you found the place. I saw you walking up.” He spoke as he opened the screen door and held it open for her. Of course he saw her, all those windows. She still stood in place, like her feet were cemented to that spot on his top step. She had a sinking feeling about stepping past that threshold, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Are you going to stand there, or are you going to come in?” he grew annoyed. She put her guard up and stepped in past him.

Her eyes scanned the place. Was this the place of a murderer, or a rapist, or a crazed pervert? It seemed more like the palace of a man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a man without a care in the world, but all of the expectation. It was big and spacey, and it made her feel so small, like she was being swallowed up. His furniture was leather, the hardwood was perfectly polished, and the smell in the air, dark and masculine, like pine, fresh and clean. She did not belong in that house, standing in her already stained chef coat, wearing the sweat and smells of working eight hours in a kitchen. This was all too pristine, too high class. She felt vulnerable.

She turned to him, to see him in his own habitat, and she was slightly alarmed to see him just standing there, eyeing her. She gulped and wet her lips, not knowing what to say, or how to even speak in such a situation. Luckily, he handled that first awkward moment for her. Not to her surprise, this man likely has no sense of shame.

“You look like you came from work.”

“I did come from work.” She replied.

“Oh.” He shrugged it off, like working a full day before going to a second job was nothing. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.” He walked ahead of her and led her into a large open kitchen. The countertops were marble, there was an island range and two ovens stacked into the wall on the far side. Everything was dark rich tones with pops of stainless steel, perfectly collaborated. This was her dream kitchen, a kitchen meant for hosting and cooking large elaborate meals, and it looked like it had never been touched. He had no idea how lucky he was, or how much she envied him at that moment. “My maid, Maria, comes early every morning. She just left, so, the kitchen is all ready and clean for you.” He informed her. Tawney walked over to the island counter and set her bag down, looking around a bit more before opening up her bag and unrolling her tools.

“I clean up after myself.” She told him

“Why? I just told you I have a maid.” He pulled out a stool and took a seat across from her.

“Because I don’t like having other people clean up after me.” She replied as she pulled out a small notebook and a pen.

“Suit yourself.”

“So,” she drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and then sighed. “What kind of stuff do you like?”

“What do you mean?” she couldn’t believe his casual response.

“Like…what kind of foods do you like?” she paused, “You have had a cook before, right? I mean, you said that last night. Clearly they must have had some recipes you preferred.”

“Okay, miss sassy pants,” he took a small jab at her before he answered, “I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy. I like my protein. I’m not a huge fan of vegetables or fish, but I’ll eat them if prepared to my liking.”

“Which means…?” she started taking notes down.

“Nothing boiled. Sautéed is fine, roasted is fine.”

“Okay.”

“I like a good sandwich for lunch. Breakfast I usually handle myself, just eggs and toast, so you’re off the hook there. At least for now.”

“At least for now?” she repeated his statement and looked up to make eye contact with him. “What…what does that mean?”

“It means sometimes I might like a nice cooked breakfast.”

“…I have a job, dude.” She reminded him. “I have to work.”

“That’s not my problem.” He replied with a smug smile. “You damaged my car, which means you work when I need you, or I report it. I’ll let you know ahead of time, that way you can work something out with your boss.”

“I’ll need twenty-four hours’ notice.”

“I was thinking more like a couple hours.”

“No, that won’t work.” She got annoyed.

“Okay, twelve.”

“Fine.” She gave in.

“And don’t call me dude.” He started to lecture her, “I’m not one of your homies.” That one wasn’t going to fly.

“Okay,” Tawney lifted her pen only to drop it and lay her hands on the marble as she addressed him. She wanted him to know how serious she was. “I may be young, and I may have damaged your car, for which I am sorry. But I’m here now, in a professional manner. Which means, I show you respect,” she pointed to herself, “And you show me respect. Now it doesn’t take a detective to figure out we’re from different sides of the track, but…you will not talk to me like I’m some girl from the ghetto. I worked hard to get where I am today. And if you have any qualms about hiring a black girl, you can go ahead and call the cops about your car and then find yourself another cook because I won’t stick around for it.”

Ransom looked at her with wide eyes. But then he scoffed and his expression turned to that of amusement.

“Wow. Okay. Well as long as we’re laying down rules,” he leaned in, “This is my house. I don’t appreciate you showing up in a stained uniform, it looks messy. And if you wanna talk about being a professional,” he tilted his head at her, “See what I’m saying? So, bring a clean one. No blasting music, no hanging out on your cell phone, you’re here to cook. If I had guests over, I’ll let you know, but this contract is extended to them too. If friends are here and they’re hungry, they’re going to get fed. Got it?”

“Fine.” She felt like he was just trying to even the score some.

“And I don’t have any qualms, just so you know.” He tossed that last part out there for affect. There was a moment of silence between them, like they were measuring each other up.

“We got off topic.” Tawney changed the subject back, “What do you like? As far as food.” She clarified again.

“Italian.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard.”

“If you expect respect, then you’d better start giving it too. Missy.” He warned her.

“My name is Tawney.”

“That’s right, I forgot.” He rubbed his chin, “What kind of a name is Tawney, anyway?”

“Family name. What kind of a name is Ransom?”

“You know I’m starting to regret not having you address me as Hugh.” He countered as he cut his eye at her.

“So, Italian,” she came back to topic, “What else?”

“Chinese. Not a huge fan of Mexican. Never been a fan of collard greens or chitlins.” He started to push her buttons again. Tawney realized this was going to be a never- ending battle. He thought he was being funny.

“Dessert?” she refused to let him see her get worked up.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got a real sweet tooth.” When he finished his statement, she caught his eyes scanning her again.

“Custards? Cakes?”

“Cookies, pies, brownies…”

“Is that another cheap shot?”

“What? Saying I like brownies?” he sat back and held his hands out in defense, but the smile was still sporting nothing but amusement. He knew what he was doing.

“What am I making today?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far. But Maria brought groceries this morning. Take a look around and see what you can come up with.” He stood up from the stool. “Call it an audition.” He turned to walk away, but stopped and turned to her again. “One more thing, don’t go snooping around the house. The kitchen is on this floor, there’s no need for you to go upstairs.”

“Why would I go upstairs?”

“Exactly.” He paused, “I mean, unless you’re invited.”

Dick.

“I’m just fine right here.” She abruptly closed her notebook and turned to get to work.

Ransom walked off into the living room while Tawney marched over to his fridge to figure out something. She figured she would make enough food for him to last two days, he has said three days a week the night before, so maybe she could get away with not having to come again the following day. She found some ham and roast beef for sandwiches, different cheeses, some ground beef, a couple tomatoes and a couple other things. Then she went through the cupboards next, finding pasta, different spices, but not a whole lot. She wondered what his previous cook had been doing, or how long he had gone without a cook. It was clear this guy wasn’t much into cooking for himself. Then of course she had to come up with a dessert, since he had mentioned having a sweet tooth, and really, why not do one? There wasn’t a lot available, but she could figure something out.

“When was the last time you had a cook?” she called out to him.

“It’s been like a month I guess.” He replied from his couch, where he was sitting on his phone. She wondered what rich people did during the day, by the looks of this guy, not much.

“What was your last cook’s name?” she asked another question as she found a bowl in the cupboard and pulled it down.

“Tim…something…can’t remember his last name. He didn’t stick around long.” Then he added, “They never really do.” His statement made her heart sink, she felt like her goose was cooked before she even had the chance.

“I’m going to need more things from the store, eventually. There’s not a ton here.”

“Make a list, I’ll have Maria get them tomorrow.”

“Where does she shop?”

“God you ask a lot of questions.” He turned his head from the couch to shoot her an annoyed look.

“Never mind then.” She retorted and went about her business. “Prick.” She muttered under her breath.

Within a couple minutes, she had prepared him a sandwich with apple slices and some chips. She arranged everything on a plate and called out to him when it was ready. He came over, took it from her, grabbed a can of soda from his fridge and went back to his spot on the couch to watch TV. She figured if he didn’t like ham and cheese, he would say something, and when he didn’t, she figured everything was fine and she was ready to move on with tomorrow’s sandwich. She caramelized some onions for a roast beef sandwich with swiss, and she made a garlic aioli and toasted the bread to keep it from going too soggy. Next came a lasagna, which she threw together with the cans of tomato sauce he had in his pantry, but it was lacking without any fresh herbs. Ransom saw this as he placed his plate in the sink.

“You’re using canned tomato sauce?”

“Well you don’t have a ton of fresh tomatoes or herbs, so…” she trailed off, keeping her eyes on the meat she was browning. When she noticed that he wasn’t walking away she looked up at him. “I can’t make herbs appear out of thin air.”

“Just put it on the list.” He quickly reminded her of the list and walked away. Tawney’s eyes went wide with annoyance, but she maintained her composure.

“How was the sandwich?” she genuinely wanted feedback.

“I like fresh tomato and lettuce on my sandwiches. I would hope that a cook can dress up a sandwich…”

“I’ll put stuff on the list!” she snapped at him before he could finish. The man shook his head and walked off. She puffed out her frustration and rolled her shoulders. He wasn’t making this easy.

The lasagna came out as best as she could manage without the ingredients she would have hoped for. What was most annoying about all of this was that she knew how to make good food, and she wanted that good food on her own table, but she couldn’t afford to live like that. The lasagna with canned tomato sauce was something she would whip together for herself, because it was cheaper. Here he was complaining and it was out of being lazy. Every minute in that house and every minute in Ransom’s presence reminded her of how different their worlds were. The food still smelled good, and it would still taste good, but he was just looking to find fault in all of it. Matters were made worse by the fact that she was exhausted, and that she was starving. Her stomach was rumbling and starting to hurt. It was almost like being teased, making so much food and not being able to eat. When Ransom came over to get a glass of water, he happened to hear her stomach growling. She swallowed her embarrassment and looked away as he eyed her.

“Hungry?” he sounded like he was mocking her.

“I haven’t eaten in ten hours.” She defended herself. Ransom leaned against the counter with his glass of water, watching as she washed up the dishes she had used.

“Aren’t you going to make a dessert?”

“Yeah, I’m just cleaning up a little.” She tried not to make eye contact with him, but he lingered there.

“You can eat something if you’re hungry.” He offered. Tawney was surprised by his suggestion; he didn’t seem the type to allow her to eat.

“I…I didn’t think you would…you know…” she didn’t know how to word whatever it was she was trying to say.

“I don’t care if you eat.” He snapped at her as he walked out of the kitchen. It was odd, like he was angered by her assumption. How else was she supposed to interpret his attitude? She settled on eating an apple and getting back to work.

The lack of ingredients made it difficult to think up a good dessert, but any dessert would have worked at that point. She would have to settle for the idea of wowing him with a dessert another time. The most curious part about making a dessert for this man was trying to figure out why she cared. He wasn’t the nicest guy, and she was there to settle a debt, so what did it matter? It had to have been her love for baking that made her so consumed with the idea of making something special. Afterall, she was in her dream kitchen, and not on a time restriction, she had the chance to make something special. Maybe that was the silver lining in all of this. Yeah the guy was a complete asshole, but she could really flex her culinary muscles in this kitchen. She could perfect a couple techniques that could maybe lead to a better job one day. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

It was about half past four when Tawney finished cooking and baking. She was exhausted and ready to call it a night, but she made sure to clean up and leave a detailed list on the counter. As she was putting away her knives and tools, Ransom came back into the kitchen. He looked around, inspecting the space. The lasagna was sitting on the stove and a plate of cookies was sitting neatly on the counter. He then turned to Tawney, as if waiting for her to explain herself.

“The lasagna just needs to be reheated, you can either cut a piece and put it in the microwave or reheat it in the oven. It’s up to you. I made a roast beef sandwich for you for lunch tomorrow. It has swiss and caramelized onions and—"

“You’re not coming tomorrow?” he interrupted her. Tawney managed the coolest face she could muster at the moment.

“You said three days a week. I made enough food that you shouldn’t need me tomorrow.” She explained to him. He huffed and turned to look at the cookies. “These are lemon ricotta cookies. I figured there was leftover ricotta, and you had a lemon, and I couldn’t think of much else. The glaze is lemon flavored with a little zest.” She described the dessert she had made. Ransom reached out and snatched a cookie up from the plate, and he eyed her suspiciously as he bit into the soft cookie. Tawney kept her gaze on him as well, trying to get a read on him. It was like some kind of standoff, like he was trying to think of a reason to make her stay longer or come over the following day. She was worried he may have hatched something in his mind, but when he looked down at the other half of the cookie in his hand and nodded to himself, she figured that was him expressing his satisfaction.

“Not bad.” He gave the closest thing to a compliment she was going to get. Screw him, she knew those cookies were amazing.

“The list is there on the counter. Anything else?” her tone sounded triumphant, and why shouldn’t it? She was proud of herself.

“I guess not.” He sighed, “So Wednesday?” he confirmed.

“Yes, I’ll be here. And in the meantime, please try to come up with a list of go-to recipes.” She politely requested. Ransom dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I still need your number.”

“Right,” she proceeded to give him her number and he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“I guess that’s it.” Ransom excused her, and she wasted no time in grabbing her bag and heading for the door. She was beyond grateful to be leaving. The thought of a shower and a full night of sleep sounded like heaven. She hurried to the door, where Ransom opened it for her, and as soon as she stepped out, he closed it loudly behind her.

Tawney managed to stay awake on the drive home, probably because she kept her foot on the gas and the music blasting. She felt like she could breathe again, like the air was fresher and clear once she left his place. And she relished the fact that she wouldn’t have to go back the following day. She was hoping she wouldn’t hear from him, that he would just ask his maid to go shopping and that would be the end of it. Her phone chimed in her pocket, and she was sure it was Kira making sure she was still alive and in one piece, but she wasn’t going to answer it until she got home. Lesson learned. Once the car was in park and she was only moments away from stepping into her muggy apartment, she reached into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone and read the text message. It was from a new number, someone not in her contacts.

You left some crumbs on the counter. Thought you were going to clean up after yourself.

She could have thrown her phone out the window. Was this man hell bent on getting under her skin? She didn’t even bother texting him back, there really was no need to. He could be mad about it if he wanted to be, but she wasn’t going to waste her time with his nonsense, not while she was off the clock. But still, that message was another reminder of what she was getting herself into, and likely warning of what was yet to come.

“Asshole.” At least she didn’t have to hide her true feelings for him while she was out of his house.

Previous chapter here.

Next chapter here.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #ransom drysdale #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfic #knives out fanfic

15 notes · View notes

diaryformytravels · 4 years

Text

#16 Toronto (Day 1) [Christmas Day]

Hello to everyone, Jasper here! I have been tasked with the blog write for today as someone is unable to do so!!!

I awoke after a blissful sleep at 8:30am, after going to sleep the previous day at 8:30pm, before Morgs! I was then made aware that the she had not had a blissful sleep and had in fact woken up several times throughout the night, including 1am-2am, and from 5am onwards, unlucky, imagine being bad at sleeping haha, loser 😂

We received a text from Michelle saying she had gone out and bought fresh bagels with fresh ingredients to go on said bagels, so that was a lovely breakfast. But of course not to one (Max- the little bitch) was NOT impressed with how his bagels were prepared for him. Max likes cheese and fresh smoked salmon on his plain white bagel. Mum had presented him with this exactly, a plain bagel with cheese and smoked salmon, which he yelled and complained and stated he simply wasn't eating it, as the cheese was melted. Mum had put it in the grill to warm it up again (putting the salmon on after so the fish wasn't warm). He complained again and then some more and walked out in anger and frustration, mum then forced him to eat it, to which point he then asked after for his next to made the same way because he liked it. What an idiot.

Moving on... at 9:30 we dropped max off at his piano lesson, and dropped Mikko off at the gym, and Morgs, mum and myself went to the equivalent of Scuttis to get some food for Christmas lunch/dinner. Before this though we went and got morgs some drugs from the pharmacy. We got a whole assortment of food, from tiny baked potatoes, various mini-cakes, berries, sliced meats, and two chickens to roast. We then picked up the two Fins (Max and Mikko) and then drugged Morgs up, she then went and had a nap while the Fins went to Max’s hockey training. Mum and I listened to Les Mis while cooking the roast. On a side note, I made the stuffing and I had to physically place my hands inside of two chickens, and fill them. It was so traumatising, imagine if that poor bird was still alive, I would have killed it.

An hour later, the Fins returned and morgs awoke, and we started the presents! Lots of cool stuff was given, which is surprising as usually MMM’s gifts consist very odd and peculiar things that have no use at all. Morgs got some cool hats from London, Kate Spade jewellery. I got some cool Disney socks, and lots of quirky card games. And we both got matching Mickey/Minnie Mouse Christmas jumpers which are very cool, matching Disney plush toys, and we both got a pair of very nice ice skates (???? useful if we lived in a place with snow, but whatever!) Max got spoilt and mum opened a lot of Kate spade bags that she loved and were exactly what she wanted (Because she gave the role of her present buying to herself, Mikko was completely oblivious)

Morgs and I carried our presents downstairs, whilst mum cleaned up the wrapping paper, and the Fins played with their new street hockey sticks and hockey gear. But since it's raining, of course this was inside...

After we had a small break to wind down and then at around 4:00 we had Christmas dinner/lunch which seems like a weird time, but we are all jet lagged so it ended up working for all. Max didn't complain much during dinner which was pleasant and unexpected. He did try to eat all the skin off the chicken, but I wouldn't let him. Because it was mine. Although, after refusing gravy on his plate, he did cut up his chicken and ask if he could dip it in the gravy jug (??? what a weird thing to think of doing. No you may absolutely not do that you rotten child?)

We then had another little rest, morgs had a sauna with eucalyptus (it took me almost 5 minutes to figure out to spell eucalyptus) infused steam to help with her blocked nose, I had a shower and lord knows what MMM did. Now we’re in bed dreading tomorrow as Mikko and Max have decided were going to go ice skating on our new skates, even though morgs can barely function for more than hour, we have to go watch Max’s hockey game and then Michelle leaves us for 4 days to go back to London, which we’re not happy about.

Morgs is next to me with a wet face washer on her head, resting up, we've got some cold and flu tablets (night ones) for her to take so she can sleep through well. Mum has just texted and said morgs can stay home tomorrow, so I guess that means I'm about to have the worst day ever tomorrow!!!!

ps. I hope AM is recovering well from sending it last night, looked like you had a lit night and slapped everyone (is that how you use that word?)

Goodnight/Good morning

Lots of love unequivocally,

Jasper

5 notes · View notes

forestpines · 5 years

Text

A Death

(cw: death, hospitals, cancer)

So, it’s never a good sign when a hospital phones you at 2am, is it.

My dad was diagnosed with cancer a little bit over three years ago. No doubt it was growing inside him for a year or two before that, but three years ago was when it suddenly became symptomatic, when he woke up one morning to discover he was randomly bleeding from his nose and his mouth, because his blood had given up on the concept of clotting. Prostate cancer had already spread from his prostate through most of his skeleton, to the point that it was Definitely Not Curable. Manageable, though, so much so that he may well, they said, die of something else first.

At first when the phone rang, I thought it was my alarm. Then realised it was a landline number, from my old home town, some sort of switchboard number. I didn’t catch it before the phone stopped. Then, whoever it was immediately rang back a second time.

I’d last spoken to him a couple of weeks earlier, after he phoned to tell me that he’d been to his consultant again. That was that. Not worth taking any more chemotherapy. He was going to be keeping him on one of his current treatments: it might, if he was lucky, keep him alive until the end of the year. If it didn’t work, he probably had a few weeks left.

I answered the phone rather blearily, to a random woman with my old home town’s accent asking if it was me. I found I couldn’t really speak, because I had already guessed where she was calling from and why she was calling. “He’s very confused and very tachycardic. We think you should come to the hospital.”

My mum had phoned a few days earlier to tell me he’d been admitted. He was having trouble breathing, so they had rushed him in in an ambulance, on oxygen. His spleen was failing. “They said his spleen is dead,” in my mother’s words. Now, I know you can happily live without any spleen at all, if you have to have it pulled out for some reason, but when a cancer patient suddenly starts to have unconnected organs turn into big and entirely non-functional lumps of meat, you know it’s not going to be long before phrases like “multiple organ failure” make the rounds.

The hospital was four hours’ drive away. I sat down and had a cup of tea.

Driving through the night, I wondered quite how I was going to react. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad show any sort of emotion of any sort. The day of his mother’s funeral, or any of the days leading up to it that I was home for, he didn’t cry a single tear. After the funeral we went home for lunch, then went out to buy a new camera. I tell a lie: he could get angry, he could shout, he could withdraw into a fuming silent rage. I’ve never seen him be sad, though, or show any kind of tender emotion. The roads were quiet, at first, and I had plenty of time to think about it. By 6am I was overtaking long lines of trucks heading to the North Sea ports, all of us still over half an hour away from our destinations, and I was driving towards a faint smear of dirty orange dawn light. By the time I reached the hospital, worked out where to park, it was just about dawn.

Of course, being half asleep when I’d answered the phone, I hadn’t actually thought to ask where in the hospital he was. It’s a big place, although strangely smaller than it felt when I had to go there to have my teeth sorted as a child, but the oncology ward was a very, very long walk from the entrance. When I reached the doors I had to ring a few times before a nurse came to the door to let me in; and then they hadn’t heard of him.

“Is he in A&E?”

“No, he’s an Oncology patient, and he was admitted on Sunday.”

She kindly led me to the nurses’ station and sat down at the computer, working down the list of wards until I spotted his name. And then another long walk, almost all the way back to the entrance and round another long set of stairs and corridors. I glided through the ward doors behind a nurse coming onto shift (hospitals are generally terrible at security) and found the nurses’ station. “Someone phoned about my father; he’s dangerously ill,” I said; they didn’t really need to ask who I was. “Oh!” they said instead, “you drove all that way straight here!”

He was in an isolation room at the far end of the ward. Not covered in tubes and probes as you might expect, other than an oxygen tube to his nose. He was almost naked, seemed to have thrown all the covers off the bed. Pale, almost hairless save a whiskery patch on each side of his chin, as if hairs had poured down from the corners of his mouth. He laid awkwardly, but he was awake, mumbling. My mother was there, and one of my uncles. I have a pair of uncles who are identical twins, and now I only see them occasionally every few years, it can be hard to work out which is which. I mentally started thinking to myself to avoid saying anything which might imply I thought I knew which uncle it was.

Dad’s eyes were dull, but he looked at me, and said something to me. “See, I said he would come to see you,” said my mother. He mumbled. Even unintelligible, he still had the same patterns of speech. He fumbled, moving his legs, trying to slip one out of the bed.

“Lie down and rest,” I said, like dealing with a sick child.

Mumbling: something about getting up. His breathing was forced, gasping, but strong and regular.

“No, you need to rest. You’re better here.” His skin was speckled with strange, fresh moles, some of them gory red lumps, like overactive birthmarks, standing proud from the skin by a quarter-inch or so. He was covered in bruises, including a large one roughly where, I suspected, the “dead” spleen would be. He started to pull at a sticky pad on his leg: it wasn’t actually being used, but looked as if it might have been for fastening a catheter tube down. “You can’t pull that off,” I said, “it says the glue is too strong. You need a special solvent.” It did indeed say “only remove with alcohol,” and I don’t think it meant “take shots so you don’t feel it.”

Mumbling: thirsty, maybe?

“Here’s your tea,” said my mother, passing him some very milky tea in a lidded plastic beaker. I knew when he had been admitted he had been nil-by-mouth; had that passed because it wasn’t necessary, or had that passed because he was on the way out anyway?

It felt like a long time, at the time, but writing this a few days later, my memory has compressed hours into a few flashes. My mother phoned the friend who gives her a lift to church every Thursday. “I’m in hospital,” she said, as if there wasn’t anyone else in the room. “They called me at 1am.” I wondered to what degree I was the second resort - how long had they waited between phoning each of us? I don’t trust my mother’s memory for facts. He drifted away to sleep a little, but the nurses came to wash him and change his sheets, as they did at that time every morning. They asked us to leave the room, so we headed down to the deserted hospital restaurant, another very long walk away, down the same corridor that led towards the mortuary. I didn’t really want to eat, even though I had been starving whilst driving, so from the breakfast selection I asked for just a coffee, a sausage and a slice of black pudding. “Just that?” said the server, with a very puzzled look.

We sat by the window looking at the morning sky, and having relatively normal conversation. I tried not to wonder whether he would die whilst we were having breakfast, and instead wondered as to whether he would actually die today at all. This might be a false alarm; just a turn he had in the night.

He was still alive when we came up to the ward, in clean sheets, covered up now, still slumped sideways and vaguely half-awake. The nurses tried to rearrange his pillows, sit him upright, and he slowly drifted off to sleep. His breathing still the same: harsh, gasping, mouth open despite the oxygen tube by his nose. He slumped sideways again, and the nurses decided to leave him be. In his sleep, he dozily tried to pull the oxygen tube from his shoulder, but didn’t have the energy or the coordination. The consultant and the doctors arrived on their morning round: a garrulous Scottish chap in a red shirt, Mr McAdam. “I’m sorry we have to meet like this,” he said, and complimented me on my facial hair. “We had a very lucid conversation the other day,” he said, “and we agreed it would be wrong to take any further serious interventions. Just too much suffering. He was happy with that decision.” And he ran through the list of problems my dad was facing. A burst stomach, leading to a thrombus. An infarcted spleen. Liver failure due to an additional liver disease. He didn’t actually say “multiple organ failure,” but he didn’t need to. I realised, which I don’t think the doctors did, that Dad’s breathing was getting noticeably weaker as the doctors were stood around him. He was still breathing, though, even though it was definitely more shallow, definitely longer between breaths. The doctors filed out, trying to strike a balance between the bustle of rounds and the sombre tone needed around the families of the dying.

We watched him breathing, slower, slower and weaker, because there was not much else to do or think about. “I thought he’d gone there,” said my mum, “but then he started again.” She leaned in to see more closely, and held his hand.

There were a few seconds between breaths. The breaths themselves were shallow, hard to hear, very different from the gasping of a few hours earlier. And then: I didn’t think I could hear or see any more. Nothing, and more nothing. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, and took a photo of him: the phone made his skintone much healthier than reality did. “I think he’s gone,” I said. It was five to eleven in the morning.

A nurse passed the door, so I waved and beckoned her in. “We think he’s gone.”

She looked down at him, carefully. “I’ll call the doctors,” she said, “so they can pronounce. Do you want a cup of tea?” She went out, closing the door this time, and came back with tea, in the big mugs of the nurses, not the small mugs that visitors get; and some biscuits. We sat, dipping ginger nuts, the almost-certainly-dead corpse of my father in front of us. “I keep expecting him to jump up and say it’s all a joke,” said my mother.

It took over half an hour for the doctors to arrive; their job is to care for the living, after all. We stood outside the closed door of the room whilst they ran through whatever it is they do, working in a pair, I assume in case a lone doctor might be tempted to Shipmanise a still-living patient. “Do you want to go back and see him after they have done?” said a nurse. We went back inside the room; they didn’t appear to have moved him at all. Still slumped against the siderails of the bed, mouth still open, eyes still shut. His skin, getting on for an hour now after death, was white-pale and waxy-looking. I took another photo; the camera still tried to give him a normal human skintone.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” said my mother, but we walked out of the room and closed the door behind us.

“The doctors will write up their notes,” said a nurse, “and you have to go to...ooh, I don’t know!” She shouted to another nurse: “Where do they get the certificate? Is it the cashier?”

“It used to be the cashier,” said the other nurse, “now it’s the bereavement office.” Well that should be obvious, I thought. “I’d go in the morning, it probably won’t be ready today. Give us a call first to check. I’ll give you a booklet.”

We walked back down the long, long corridor, holding our fresh copy of “Help for the bereaved: a practical guide for family and friends” Where the corridor joined the next, we had to squeeze past a folding screen which hadn’t been in our way before, and a sign that said “For Ward 3 Enquiries, ask at Ward 4″; and I realised, it was a death screen, to make sure that no random strangers saw my father being wheeled in his bed, slumped against the siderails, over to the lifts and down the long corridor down towards the restaurant and the mortuary. We walked out down the corridor, and I wondered what would happen next.

6 notes · View notes

walkinsauce · 5 years

Text

Christina Walkinshaw’s Health & Wellmess Blog- Chapter 1: Veganuary

Well, I’m 40 now. I guess I have to start caring about my body. For the most part of my life, I have not cared about the following:

Mani’s/Pedi’s

Shaving/Waxing

Showering

Opening mail

Scented candles

Detox/Cleanses

Back up hard drives

Fashion/style

Oil changes

Flossing

Eyeliners over $4

Waze

Diets

Oh but I do recycle.

Do you know I’ve never lost weight in my life? My weight has been on a slow and steady incline in one direction my whole life- like the yodeler on “The Price is Right.” Up, up and away, like that sweet 5th Dimension song you’re probably too young to know. But now, as I enter a new decade of my life, I know for sure my metabolism is on it’s downward spiral. For the most part, I feel good. I’ve never been one of those super skinny chicks. The sick part is, I look back on photos of me when i was 40 pounds lighter and know I never even felt skinny back then, when I truly was. Weight and self-image can be a fucked up thing. Especially when you live in a town like this. (L.A., obviously. To be fair, I felt fat when I lived in Ottawa too.)

I’m not necessary trying to lose weight this year, I’m just trying to stop from gaining it. This is more of a preventative thing. I don’t even know how I’d track a weight loss blog. I don’t actually own a scale. When I was in my 20′s I lived with girls who owned that scale that said THINNER across the top of it and I’m still scarred. Who the fuck put that scale on the market? Cruel. The only place I consistently weigh myself is on Fremont Street in Vegas, at the Heart Attack Grill. (Hot tip: If you’re over 350lbs you eat for free!) The last I checked, I was 165lbs.

When people think of me, they think “happy hour” and not “personal trainer.” I’m not anybody’s “health & wellness” coach, that’s for sure. That being said, if I’m going to try to fix myself, I’m happy to take any delinquents like me along for the ride. Why are there no diets for people who drink and smoke marijuana? Seems a little rude if you ask me. My favourite gift is a bottle opener. I recently joined a wine club. I’m only JUST getting into Prosecco. I like beer, okay? (That line has been tarnished, I know.)

But every January, as the clock nears midnight on Dec. 31st, I get this overwhelming feeling that this year is going to be different. This year I’m going to be my personal best. I fantasize about changing for the better, and yet every February I’m right back to being the same IPA fart machine I’ve always been. This. Year. I. Will. Be. Better.

So I’ve started with…

Veganism.

Yup. There’s a whole thing right now called #Veganuary, and I’ve jumped on board. I’ve read a lot of Vegan propaganda in the past ten years. Eating Animals, Skinny Bitch, The Lean- they all have good points. I’ve tried being a vegan twice in my life. (The second time I referred to myself as a “stay at home vegan,” meaning I was only a vegan at home. I couldn’t deal with the social ramifications of being a picky eater.) Both times, I came back to my usual carny diet of chicken wings and first and foremost, cheese. Let’s see how I do this time…

I warned people at the end of December I was going to try a “plant based diet” for January. Somehow saying “plant based” seemed less jarring than “vegan.” Well, seems like nobody believed me.

I came home New Year’s Eve after my show (so technically it was January, but do we have to be nit-picky?) and decided I couldn’t let the last of the delicious Canadian Mastro’s Hot Calabrese go to waste. Or the blue cheese. Both cured meats and blue cheese are so much better in Canada. Plus I had a little wine after my show, and it would be detrimental to my health if I didn’t eat before bed, cuz everyone knows eating before bed stops you from getting hangovers.*

Plus, how am I supposed to become a vegan when there’s still salami lying around the house? Do sex addicts let their last condoms go to waste before they go to sex rehab or wherever? I highly doubt it.

I wake up, January 1st, feeling fresh thanks to my 2am lite supper. I’m ready for Veganism! Me, my parents, cousin and cousin’s daughter meet at the Cactus Club in Vancouver (k-Burnaby, but close enough) and I am excited to find all the V’s on the menu. I order the Crispy Tofu Bowl, with NO radish. (When I was in Kindergarten we had a vegetable garden and it made me barf my first ever ingested radish. I’m still not over it.)

I gotta say, it was delicious. I poured hot sauce over the whole thing obviously. My cousin is a vegetarian, but she has a side of fries, edamame and a Bellini. (So you know we’re related.) My meal is delish, and doesn't make me feel overly full like last week's lasagne did. Perhaps it's the tofu, or perhaps it's the Canadian portion.

I’m still making my holiday rounds in the mother country, so afterwards we hit up Grandma’s house. (I have a very busy social schedule, as you can tell.) I check Grandma’s Danish cookies in the round blue tin to see if they’re vegan. They have those controversial “MAY CONTAIN” ingredients which are really stressing me out. I eat one pretzel shaped cookie and call it quits.

Then off to my sister’s, for dinner. We’re supposed to order in, and I pray they don’t order without me, but of course they did. Pizza Hut. Four pizzas, all with cheese. To be fair, I don’t think anybody actually thought I’d stick to a diet. I never have. And I never turn down pizza, I just pick off the mushrooms. I decide to double down and order Thai. I love Thai food- coconut curries will literally get me through Veganuary. I know it.

Oh god is blogging about food boring? I was probs more exciting when I was blogging about my Tinder dates, but at least the food won’t get mad at me for blogging about it. (Except the maybe the mushrooms.)

I fly back to L.A. the next day. I know L.A. will be easy to pull of Veganuary. This place is full of picky diets. At the Vancouver airport I hit the Banh Mi place, which seems like the only vegan friendly joint past security. Of course they’re out of tofu. January! Fuck. Should I give up now? I can’t starve. And I can’t get drunk without eating lunch first and who can get on an airplane without a glass of wine?

Luckily I like to get to the airport 82 hours early, so I decide to wait for them to make more tofu. That’s right- I’m really doing this. Twenty-five minutes later I have my tofu Banh Mi (with hot sauce.)

I couldn’t be happier when I get home to my cute new L.A. pad. I open my fridge and of course, there’s not much in there after being away for two weeks. And you know what’s staring me right in the eye…

That’s right. My old pal, Trader Joe’s Calabrese salami.

Shit. That stuff lasts forever. (That should scare me.)

I close the fridge, and slowly give it thought…

“Well, I shouldn’t waste food. I could be a vegan starting January 3rd. No one’s watching me. I’m not even THAT out of shape…”

But then something miraculous happens. A thought so exciting it overpowers any craving for food.

“OMG my VIBRATOR! I haven’t jilled off in weeks!”

I def don’t take it home for the holidays, ya pervs. I get in my pajamas, crawl into bed and satisfy myself sans le food. Straight to single girl dessert. I don’t need salami after all.

And just like that, I wake up the next morning, still a vegan.

xoxo with fruits and veggies, your new vegan (for now)

walkinsauce

p.s. Not sure I can give up cheese forever. If I fall off this diet, I’ll just try another. I hear there’s more than one...

* None of my “theories” on health and diets are proven or approved by doctors. This is just me, and what I think I’ve figured out about my body specifically.

#veganuary #veganism #vegan #christina walkinshaw #diets #cactus club #health #wellness #January #self love #walkinsauce #just trying to write more

12 notes · View notes

prettywordsyouleft · 6 years

Text

Domestic! Kang Daniel

Thanks so much for this request! I decided to do this a little different from others out there, with more of a focus on what it was like living together, as opposed to all the more cute, boyfriend styled answers I found when I researched this idea.

Morning routine:

Waking up wrapped up in his arms, soft kisses and morning greetings

Not moving right away, content in each other’s arms

Daniel doesn’t like getting up straight away, or at all, and if he could he’d make you stay curled up in bed all day long

In fact if you both don’t have any plans it’s what he’s going to suggest first

But the cats need to be fed, as do you both, and so he’ll help you out of bed, gently kissing you on your head as you go into the bathroom

Both self sufficient enough to get ready in the morning and focus on your own tasks

Daniel usually still eating as you dart about the house looking for lost keys or your bag

Which are always in the same place but you seem to become frazzled with the list of things ahead of you to do in your work day

Goodbye kisses are brief but sweet, the odd occasion Daniel will follow you down to the door to get more in, because he doesn’t want to say goodbye yet

Chores:

You have a roster that you rotate tasks between each day

Daniel doesn’t complain, he likes knowing what he is expected to do

You share the chores evenly, and have no gender roles (ie girls do dishes, boys mow lawns)

You’re very capable of changing your own lightbulb, thanks

Daniel likes seeing you clean, knowing you aren’t afraid to get dirty

For some reason this is attractive to him, as he watches you degrease the oven

For shits and giggles you make him wear an apron sometimes, mostly because he can get messy when cleaning and it makes it harder to get stains out of his clothes

He complained at first, but you knew he actually liked it, especially since you were the one to put it on him

Now he expects you to apron him up every time

Big cleans outs happen once a month since you both are relatively tidy in your living together

Normally always ends in bickering about missing something obvious all this time

You telling Daniel to clean it himself if he wasn’t satisfied with your efforts

Only for you to keep cleaning because you’re angry and what better way to let off steam than scrubbing at the grout on the bathroom tiles

Likes when you make natural cleaners and learned how to make them as well, because he doesn’t want anything toxic near the cats lol priorities

Cooking /Food:

You do grocery shopping together, and you frequent the local markets as often as you can for fresh meat and produce

You cook together as well, each dividing the work load and preparing what you’re in charge of

You taught Daniel a lot of the meals your mother made you as a child and he loves when you cook them for him too

Daniel is very attentive in the kitchen, and loves eating as many meals as he can with you each day

Sometimes makes you a packed lunch for work, and it’s usually set up as you would for a child, lots of heart shaped pieces, and cute faces made with seaweed

Always a note attached telling you to have a great day and to feel energised after eating his food

Enjoys when you cut up pieces of fruit and peel them for him, feeding him them as you laze about the house at night or in the weekend

Lots of dates are held at home because you both like to cook for each other

Habits you’d like to change:

Living with Daniel has been easier on your relationship than hard

But sometimes you wanted to do more than he did

Daniel’s a self proclaimed homebody and you initially thought you were as well

But there’s only so much laying around the house you can do before you feel unproductive

He doesn’t like how you watch the clock and live to utilise all the hours each day to the fullest because it easily stresses you out

Would love it if you slowed down and even tried to throw out the kitchen clock because he noticed how much you referred to it during the day

Errands/Schedule:

Both use an app to store household errands and a monthly calendar on

Made it easier for you both to know what was happening each day

Admittedly you had to train him on this but it didn’t take Daniel long to like the system, if he was out, he could check to see if you needed something for dinner that night, or pick up the dry cleaning

Otherwise you liked to run weekly errands together on Fridays, getting them done before the weekend began

Would usually end in a lunch date at a cute café, which is why you both anticipated Fridays the most each week

Night routine:

After dinner, Daniel likes to relax

It’s when he’s the most attentive to you, happy to run you a bath, and insists on drying your hair for you if you wash it

On the couch cuddling is a non negotiable past 8pm

If you’re stressed its generally time where you both talk about your day and help each other through any hardships

Otherwise you’re both just watching tv lazily

Daniel often falls asleep there and so you have to decide on whether to wake him up or not

Sometimes just getting a blanket, his peaceful state too precious to disturb

Until he wakes you at 2am complaining that you left him again, and waking up without you beside him is the worst

Other times you shake him awake and tell him to go to bed

You always stay up later than him and he dislikes this, wanting you to come to bed with him

Daniel is clingy, especially when he’s sleepy

You’re like his comfort blanket, and he needs contact with you at all times

Most of the time you just grab a book and go to bed with him

Brushing your teeth together and smiling when you each catch the other looking over in the mirror

Unlike the mornings, the bathroom night routine is shared together

Sometimes you apply each other’s skin care and it feels so darn nice to be pampered like that

If Daniel doesn’t fall asleep before you, it’s a perfect time to whisper sweet nothings at each other, falling more in love if it’s even possible at this stage into your relationship

Pets:

Of course you already knew Daniel had two cats before you moved in together

Now you have three, with Daniel trying to find every excuse in the world to bring home more

You’d have a whole house full if he had it his way

You loved animals so it wasn’t a big deal raising your three cats

Quite often they felt like your children and you would discuss them together like that

“Today Ori stood up when I offered her a treat!”

“Oh my goodness really? Aw I missed it, you should have filmed it!”

Admittedly, you got jealous sometimes with how much attention he’d give them

Or how much he’d spoil them

They had the spare room in your apartment as their designated cat room after all

Let’s be real they had free rein of the house and they ruled you both

Daniel was happy to be the one to clean up behind them the most since he was so used to doing it before you came into his world

You both would feed them each, you in the morning and him at night

But overall, the cats were as much a part of your world as Daniel was

Down time:

Happy to do your own tasks or something together

Gym buddies since you complained about getting too out of shape

Movies were usually your go to for a shared activity

Or you know, something more intimate

Otherwise Daniel would spend his time with the cats, content in playing with them

You liked to read a lot

You had gotten him into adult colouring and now it was something you’d do on Sundays, Daniel insisting on de-stressing together before the new week

Again de-stressing could include de-clothing, but we won’t go there in this, heh (check out Different Kisses if you want more of that side to him)

Liked to go on walks at the park with you when the weather was good

Day/overnight excursions happened twice a month, and generally were planned by Daniel

“Why are we going to the mountains?”

“You mentioned how relaxing you’d find a cabin to be, so let’s see if it is.”

You loved these moments, escaping the daily grind of reality for a magical getaway, making more memories and growing further as a couple

Arguments:

You both usually only bickered about small things like most couples do

But when it was more heated you’d give each other the silent treatment

This changed the whole atmosphere and routines in the apartment

You stuck mostly to the living area whilst he would take the cats into their room and stay with them

Until the argument was over it was like you were housemates, not a couple

Though admittedly, because it was so automatic, you couldn’t help but make him a meal by accident, leaving it for him to eat whenever he came out of the cat room

And he would eat it, not wanting your efforts to go to waste

Awkward waiting on each other when using the bathroom, when usually you just barged in on each other without a care

When the argument was resolved, you spent the next week both really involved in each other’s daily schedule and emotions, trying to get your rhythm back to where it had been

Finances:

You each had your own funds and wanted to keep it that way until marriage

But you both paid an amount each pay into a household account that you had opened together before moving in

That way all the communal bills were taken care of

Groceries you always went in halves for as well

Daniel paid more towards the cats, because he claimed them as his own

Though you wouldn’t hesitate to buy them toys, litter, and feed if you were out and they needed them

At first Daniel kept trying to be the one who paid for dates

But you wanted to start paying too, ever since you moved in together

This was something you sometimes bickered over

And probably the only money related argument you ever had

Because you were both pretty dependable and smart about how you used money

After a couple of months living together you opened another joint account to save for your future, with the agreement if something happened you’d split it evenly

But both of you knew that was never going to happen, so you’d always talk about using the money on getting married or buying a house together one day

I hope you enjoyed this! I enjoyed exploring a different aspect to Daniel!

To read further on Daniel may I suggest: Different Kisses | Working Out with Daniel | Boyfriend! Daniel

______________________

I accept requests on other idols for the Domestic! series whenever my requests are open! To check to see if I’ve written your bias already, go HERE. Otherwise you’re most welcome to send me a MESSAGE to request someone new.

Other Wanna One members in this series: Seongwoo

[Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

Thanks for your support!!

#kang daniel #wanna one kang daniel #wanna one #wanna one fiction #wanna one imagines #wanna one scenario #domestic!kang daniel #kpop #kang daniel fiction #kang daniel imagine #kang daniel scenario #prettywordsyouleft requested

137 notes · View notes

scribir · 6 years

Text

Self Care for NSFW Artists - A Letter to Myself

As the title suggests, I’m writing this mostly for myself hence the term nsfw, but anyone can use this I suppose. It’s just some real life tips that I’ve learned through experience and wanted to write down. Maybe it can help someone.

Let’s go...

1- Get up! It is important to not be by your desk hunched over writing or drawing for extended periods of time. Not only is it unhealthy to be sedentary for that long, it is important for the mind that you walk away from your work and maybe get a little exercise by taking a walk or going for something to eat or drink.

2- Feed and hydrate yo’ body! This point ties in with the first as artists (whether you write, craft or draw) tend to restrict themselves to their work for hours. Personally, I am very guilty of this as I can sit at my desk working for up to 18 (or more) hours, moving only when it’s absolutely necessary, only to return promptly to continue working. Food and water is forgotten and at times, many hours later, I’d realize that I didn’t even have breakfast only when a gnawing hunger threatens to kill me or my heart is racing because it was a hot day and I didn’t drink any water.

3- Eat a balanced diet! So I did say that you should feed and hydrate your body, but I know you *points dramatically* you’ll choose the fastest option which most likely would be fast food for quick calories. But remember!!! Man cannot live by fast food and NSFW Art alone! You need calories from a range of diverse foods, including meat / meat substitute protein, vegetables and some fat and fiber.

Take a multivitamin too if you’re into that. Drink clean fresh water. Eat an assortment of fruits and vegetables everyday (local so it would be cheaper). Prepare your own meals to save money and give yourself healthier options. And if you don’t have the time to prepare meals everyday, do the preparation in advance on a day when you can spare some extra time. What I do is buy sandwich bags and prepare my breakfast, depending on what it is, in advance for the entire week or month. Lunches too I make in advance.

When you make your own meals, you know exactly what’s going into your body and can avoid all the nasties (processed stuff and artificial flavorings) that can be hiding in bought meals. But if you know a local company that makes packaged foods that are healthy, then go right ahead!

Remember that eating a balanced diet that includes a sufficient amount of pesticide-free fruits and vegetables is important to keep your body strong and healthy enough so that you can keep making content.

4- Wear your damn eyeglasses (if you use those)! Personally I suck at this *puts on glasses quickly then continues to type* I would be at the computer writing / drawing for hours and remember only when my eyes start hurting :/ Don’t do that.

5- Clean your damn glasses!! Another thing I’m very guilty of. Eye glasses tend to pick up all sorts of bacteria / other microbes when you rest them down or even by simply touching them. Then you put them on your face. See what I’m talking about?? Acne party.

6- Practise Self care / Have a Self-care Ritual! Eh, so this is something I believe that a lot of people fail at. Move away from the computer / desk and go wash your face, brush + floss your teeth! Take a bath / shower daily. Try to also exfoliate your face and body routinely. Shave / trim too if you’re into that, wash your hair when it’s dirty, moisturize it and keep it up and away from your face while you’re working. This not only makes working on your projects easier but helps prevent acne from dirty hair and keeps your scalp healthy.

If you can, (these tips are for whatever your gender id is), don’t go to sleep without a night cream that’s suitable for your skin type. Wear sunscreen. Keep your hair wrapped with a silk / satin scarf whenever you lie down to avoid split ends, dryness and breakage, wash your pillowcases regularly and use a silk / satin tie when putting your hair up. Also, get a routine trim to manage split ends and hair length. Oh and most importantly, use moisturizers, shower products and treatments FOR YOUR SKIN TYPE. You won’t believe the difference that makes.

Self care also involves mental health and that’s very critical for artists and everyone tbh. Remember to follow any protocol given to you by your healthcare provider and not to neglect it because you were busy cREatiNG ConTEnt *I’m looking at you* Get enough sleep, eat healthy, rest whenever necessary and try to include some meditation and light exercise in the form of yoga / walking/ stretching / pilates. All this is good for the mind. I can go on and on about self care but let’s stop here please.

7- Clean Your Room! Meh. I hate this one the most because I hate folding laundry, especially when I want to do something creative, but sometimes you just need to stop working and do it. Get up and do your chores. Doing them regularly, means that your general environment where you work will always be healthy for your mind, body and spirit and will be conducive to you formulating plots for your art and writing projects! Please leave the vision of the artist (this includes writers) in a dark, dusty room piled high with books, dirty + clean unsorted laundry behind T_T

8- Socialize! EHHHHH....NANI?! Ugh I hate this, but socializing is important for your physical and mental health. I’m an introvert by nature (shoutout to my fellow introverts) and sometimes go to extreme lengths to avoid people but socializing doesn’t mean that you have to go to a big party (an introvert’s nightmare) but simply remembering to respond to your social messages, calling a friend or even taking your mom and or dad out / going to visit them can work.

I hate to admit it but human connection is important (unless you’re a hermit on a mountain or a misanthrope). And look at it this way...interacting with real people is important for your craft! You can read books, look at videos / tutorials to learn about human interaction, but nothing replaces the story a friend would tell you about their day while drunk at 2am or the hot date they had last night, a genuine smile from a loved one, a quirky laugh or the natural movement of people who are unaware that they’re being observed - all things that can help to spark ideas that you can use for the characters in your writing and art. By hanging out with real people and seeing how they move and talk, you tend to create more genuine, believable characters that the people who use your content can identify with.

I should say too that you don’t have to interact with people directly all the time but you can just sit in a coffee shop, walk around the city, sit in the library or travel on the bus (or other public transportation). Just listen and watch and you will be privy to all sorts of gems from real people with real lives, victories and problems that can be used for character study.

9- DON’T Take Yourself Too Seriously! / Stop doubting your talent! Okay, so this one is a work in progress for a lot of people. Feelings of insecurity when it comes to your craft can attack at anytime. You’re steadily progressing but then you look at other people’s work and think that you’re absolute crap. You think their prose and exposition is great, that their art / writing style is awesome and that you’d never be as good as they are within your lifetime because you don’t have as many kudos, favorites, bookmarks or likes / reblogs as they do.

I have one piece of advice for this problem and that’s to MIND YO’ DAMN BUSINESS. This may sound harsh but it’s critical for survival in the creative world. When you’re busy feeling shitty and insecure about someone else’s work, they’re busy practising hard and getting better while you’re busy hampering your own progress. Look at their work, admire it, send that fellow artist a like / comment then give a reblog and let awesome work of art MOTIVATE you to keep working hard on your craft. You can only get better through practice and and you’re only wasting time by doubting yourself / feeling insecure / feeling jealous because of other’s progress.

I should also say that you may see someone’s wonderful writing or art but you don’t know how many hours and effort they may be putting into their craft. Talent is a wonderful thing to have, but it is a tool that needs to be sharpened every single day. A lot of people don’t like to admit it, but getting to expert level with anything takes an insane amount of practice. When you’re sleeping, you have no idea what those talented people are doing in order to get better. You don’t see the moments where they’re falling asleep on themselves while they’re writing / drawing, you don’t see the amount of horrible drafts they churned out before they got “good” and you have no idea that they too feel like they still need to improve as they continue to work hard.

So be grateful for all the kudos, likes, reblogs or favorites you get but don’t let that define you. Keep moving forward. Keep grinding. I believe in you.

10- Make time for Reflection! This may seem biased (because...introvert...), but time spent alone is important. Sure, you spend a lot of time alone writing, drawing, creating, but how much of that time is truly alone and without you doing work?? I personally believe that sometimes one needs to just go off to a quiet place to just think. Thinking about life, sorting the past, the present and the future helps to condition and exercise the mind. And a healthy mind makes for a good, capable artist that doesn’t become consumed and destroyed by their craft.

In this respect, I should also say that having Affirmations and doing Meditation is very important. Personally, I have a pinterest board that I use for that purpose and also a book with meditative quotes, passages etc that I try to read every morning.

11- Make time for Recreation: Whether it is watching your favorite movie, playing a game, watching anime, reading a book or comic, playing a board game or hanging out with friends, make sure to schedule recreational activities that take you away from your desk and work these into your routine. This, like Reflection, will help to keep your mind conditioned and also get you out of artist’s block. It also helps to generate ideas since personally I find that a good movie, action scene or well-crafted plot sends my mind into overdrive and I end up going back to write lol.

12- Organization! Having things organized, whether irl or just your WIPs (through journaling, properly saving / titling files etc) will keep you sane and save time. Believe me!

13 - Support Network! This is self explanatory but having at least one person who is genuine about liking your work and who is like your personal cheerleader is critical. Also, being your own cheer team is important! Don’t depend too heavily on others; love yourself and your work!

14 - Negative Environments: I can go on an on about this as well, but yeah...being in a toxic situation whether it is at home, school, the workplace, a relationship or even one of your own creation is very very bad for your mental health and if it’s bad for your mental health it is bad for your art. Personally, negative situations help push me forward with my writing as I create a lot of vent stuff as a result but over time it is not healthy. It can mess with your head.

Do whatever you can to get out of your situation or if you can’t, then lay the foundations (saving money etc) to get out eventually. And while you’re unable to get out, remember to practise all the tips I mentioned before. Also, talk to a professional or even someone you can trust.

I think I’ll stop here as this post is getting quite long ^^; Anyways, I hope that my blabbering has managed to help someone as I was somehow unconsciously motivated to write and post this. If anyone wants to add anything, please do!

#writer positivity #writer problems #daily reminder #important.#MY POSTTT

15 notes · View notes