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lvrdrafts · 10 months

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Rescued by Love Part 4

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the television as you settled onto the couch, trying to find some distraction from the world outside. The sound of a show's opening theme filled the air, but it was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You picked it up, seeing Sam's name on the caller ID. Curious and a bit surprised, you answered, your voice a mix of confusion and warmth. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, I... I just wanted to call and say I'm sorry for your loss," Sam's voice carried a gentle tone, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

Your brows furrowed in puzzlement. "Loss? Sam, what are you talking about?"

There was a moment of hesitation on the other end of the line, and then Sam spoke softly. "Your father's passing. I know it might be overwhelming, and I wanted to reach out."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat, the words not quite sinking in. "Wait, my father... passed away?"

There was a pause, and then Sam replied, his voice understanding. "Yeah, the funeral is tomorrow. I can't tell if your messing with me right now or not"

The shock and disbelief coursed through you as you tried to process what Sam was saying. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I... I didn't know."

Sam's voice held empathy, and he responded gently, "Wait- actually?"

You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat. "No, Sam, I had no idea. Bucky, he went on a business trip for a month, and I've been... I haven't been allowed to leave the house."

There was a somber pause on the other end, and then Sam said "What-what do you mean Bucky's not with you? He's here right now, with Steve, making arrangements for the funeral."

The weight of the situation bore down on you, the reality of your isolation and the secrets that had been kept from you leaving you feeling even more adrift. Your tears began to flow freely, and you managed to stammer, "I... I have to go, Sam."

"Take care," Sam's voice was soft, filled with understanding.

As you ended the call, your heart felt heavy, and the weight of the situation seemed almost suffocating. Alone in the dimly lit room, you leaned forward, your face in your hands, allowing your tears to flow. The television's flickering light seemed distant and inconsequential compared to the storm of emotions that raged within you.

After a few moments of collecting yourself, you reached for your phone again. There was one person who might be able to guide you through this tumultuous time – Matt Murdock.

"Hello?" Matt's voice came through the line, a calm and steady presence on the other end.

"Hey, Matt. It's me," you greeted, your voice carrying a mix of weariness and determination.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd call. How can I help you?" Matt's tone was empathetic, as if he could sense the weight of your burdens.

Your heart felt heavy, the desire for liberation clashing with the reality of your circumstances. "I... I need your help with something big. My father passed away, and I've been isolated at home. Bucky hired bodyguards who won't let me leave. And now I want to divorce him."

A thoughtful silence hung in the air for a moment before Matt spoke, his voice filled with understanding. "I'm sorry to hear about your father. And as for the divorce, that's a significant step. I can definitely assist you. We'll need to navigate the legal aspects, especially given your current situation."

Relief washed over you as you realized you weren't alone in this daunting journey. "Thank you, Matt. I really appreciate it. I... I want to regain control over my life."

Two days passed in a mix of tension and anticipation. The weight of your impending actions sat heavy on your shoulders as you waited for Bucky's return from his supposed business trip. The isolation that had cloaked you seemed to grow even more suffocating, the silence of the empty house echoing your thoughts.

Then, the door finally swung open, and Bucky stepped inside, his presence a blend of weariness and something you couldn't quite place. Steve trailed behind him, his features etched with a mix of determination and cold detachment. The air seemed charged with unspoken words as they both entered the room, their gazes meeting yours.

"Bucky," you greeted him, your voice carrying a mix of emotions – frustration, sadness, and something else that had been building within you.

He looked at you, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before being replaced by a guarded expression. "Hey."

Steve's gaze remained fixed on you, a coldness that seemed to permeate the air between you all. It was as if the unspoken truths that had been kept hidden for far too long were about to surface, ready to shatter the fragile semblance of family.

"You're back," you stated, your tone tinged with an edge that betrayed the turmoil within you.

Bucky's jaw clenched, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking away. "Yeah. Business trip was... intense."

You took a deep breath, a surge of courage propelling you forward. "Bucky, I know."

His gaze snapped back to yours, a flicker of surprise mingling with caution. "What do you mean?"

"The funeral. I know about it," you stated firmly, refusing to back down.

Bucky's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing as if calculating his next move. "How...?"

"Sam called," you said, your voice steady. "He told me about Dad's passing. And about the funeral that both of you conveniently forgot to inform me about."

A heavy silence settled in the room, the tension palpable. Steve's cold demeanor remained unbroken, his gaze like ice as he observed the exchange.

"I didn't want you to have to deal with it," Bucky finally spoke, his voice tinged with sympathy.

You scoffed, a bitter chuckle escaping you. "So, you decided I didn't deserve to know, right? Just like everything else?"

Bucky's brows furrowed, his expression a mixture of frustration and guilt. "It's not like that. Please I don't want to see your hurt, its fucked up but you mean-"

"Isn't it ironic you don't wanna see me hurt yet you hurt me all the time?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "You've controlled my life, kept me isolated, and now you're making decisions about my own family without even telling me."

Steve's cold voice cut through the tension like a blade. "You're better off not knowing, Y/N."

His words ignited a fire within you, fueled by years of resentment and the determination to reclaim your agency. "No, Steve. I'm done being kept in the dark. I'm done being treated like a pawn in your twisted game. I'm getting a divorce you piece of shit"

"You better not," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper as he took a step toward you, his fingers reaching for your arms with an intent that sent shivers down your spine.

Fear clamped its icy grip around your heart for a moment, paralyzing you. The shadow of past trauma loomed, threatening to engulf you once again. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as Steve's fingers tightened on your arms, his grip threatening to crush your spirit as it had for years.

Before the fear could completely consume you, a flash of movement caught your attention. Bucky, faster than you could anticipate, stepped between you and Steve, his stance protective. His strong arm shot out, intercepting Steve's grasp, and with a force that surprised you, he pushed Steve back making him hit the wall and fall on the floor.

"Steve, go this is between my wife and I not you" Bucky says coldly and Steve walks away with blood dripping down his nose. "Lets talk" Bucky says with a cold expression but past that you see a flicker of pain.

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#bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #mob bucky x wife reader angst #mob bucky x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rodgers sister reader x bucky #mob steve x reader #winter soldier x reader #angst x reader #mob bucky au

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lol-im-done · 2 years

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Love in the Kingswood | Harwin Strong X Reader

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2489

Synopsis: Princess Rhaenyra's Lady in Waiting, Lady (Y/N) Vaelor, slays a boar to protect her cousin, upon her return to the royal camp she realizes she's caught the attention of Ser Harwin Strong, and as they go on their own hunt they fall in love.

Author's Note: Feedback and comments are always appreciated! Also any ideas for other one shots so I can be inspired to write more :). Can be found on A03 as well.

Never had you been so happy to see a forest as you were when you arrived at the Kingswood. After hours of awkward small talk, glares from Alicent and the uncomfortable bumpy carriage ride you were more than ready to disembark. As Lady in Waiting to Princess Rhaenyra you were a constant companion at her side and as a distant cousin you were welcomed into the inner circle of the Royal Family. King Viserys had recognized Rhaenyra’s increasing isolation after Queen Aemma’s death so he reached out to your father Lord Vaelor who quickly dispatched you to King’s Landing. It was daunting at first but you became fast friends with Rhaenyra, a comforting and supporting presence for her. As the royal carriage slowed you could hear the cheers for the babe Aegon outside, Rhaenyra already withdrawing into herself.

“Are you ready?” you asked softly, grasping her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. After a few seconds she gave you a brave smile and nod before stepping off with you at her side.

The encampment was enormous with various tents and booths for Aegon’s name day celebration. Soon you found yourself in the main royal tent and after a quick conversation with King Viserys who doted on you as if his own daughter, you went on your rounds but kept a watchful eye on Rhaenyra. The King never explicitly stated you were to mind her but it became evident you were also responsible for keeping her in line, as spirited as she was. As you exchanged words with Larys Strong, you could see Rhaenyra speaking with her father, both voices increasing in tandem with their agitation. As their argument came to a crest, gathering the attention of the court, Rhaenyra stormed off.

“Pardon me, Larys I must go!”

Larys, understanding your role, nodded and stepped aside as you tried your best not to run in the tent, trying to make it through the maze of people. Once you were at the exit you broke into a sprint at the same time someone was walking in.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry!” you apologized, not even recognizing the tall man you had bumped into. Ser Harwin Strong had seen you at court, a quiet shadow to the fiery Princess Rhaenyra, and had only formally met you when King Viserys had introduced you to the court. Watching you run after her he couldn’t help a small smile, he found your panicked state quite adorable. As he watched you go after Rhaenyra, his brother inched closer to him.

“Lady Vaelor is most kind, I’m sure she did not mean to leave in such a haste,” Larys noted.

“Do you spend time with her often?” Harwin turned to his brother. “We sometimes cross paths in the library and will have tea with others from court in the Godswood,” Larys replied.

“Do I sense romance?” Harwin teased but Larys rolled his eyes. “No. But from the way you constantly ask after her and the way you stared at her bottom as she walked past I’d say you had that notion in your own head,” Larys replied coolly. Harwin let out a bark of laughter, slapping his brother on the arm before continuing into the tent, the feeling of your body pressing against his, still on his mind.

“Rhaenyra wait!” you cried, lifting the bottom of your skirt as you tried to keep up with her long strides but she was soon galloping off into the forest.

“Ser Criston-,” you called out and you didn’t need to finish as he helped you up on your horse before mourning his own. Without wasting another minute your steeds were off, racing to follow Rhaenyra. You loved your cousin dearly, would defend her to the very end but sometimes you swore she was trying to give you gray hairs. Thankfully you were a skilled rider and even in your dress you quickly caught up with her. Criston grabbed the reins of her horse and she scowled as she was stopped.

“Gods above Rhaenyra give me warning next time you decide to run off,” you shook your head, patting the neck of your horse to calm it down.

“I just couldn’t stand it one more minute! I don’t want to marry,” she pouted, silver strands whirling around her face. Criston looked over to you and you both exchanged a serious look, shaking your head in disappointment but the air of seriousness broke as Rhaenyra smirked, making the forest come alive with your trio’s laughter.

Rhaenyra insisted on walking back but you were nowhere close to the camp by the time the sun had set. Thankfully your horses had food and water and a light blanket strapped to them so you assisted Criston in making the fire as Rhaenyra set up for the night.

“Do you think the realm would ever accept me as Queen?” Rhaenyra broke the calm silence as you all ate the bread and meat from your packs.

“The lords bent the knee to you Princess,” Criston replied but she didn’t seem satisfied by that answer.

“I think that you will be a great Queen. The realm never had a chance to be reigned by a Queen before. They may be uncomfortable at first but once you prove yourself to them they will love you as I do cousin,” you said making her grin. Before she could reply there was a rustle in the distance and the horses began to whine. Criston was up and peering into the darkness, sword at the ready for whatever it could be. From the corner of your eye you saw Rhaenyra bring out her glinting dagger and you cursed yourself for being unprepared. Suddenly you and Rhaenyra screamed as a large boar burst through the bushes and rammed into Criston sending him flying to the side. It barreled straight towards Rhaenyra, jumping on top of her as she let out another scream. The urge to defend and protect surged through you as you grabbed her dagger from the ground. With a cry you plunged it into the boar’s back with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed everywhere, hot and sticky, and the squeals of the boar filled the air. Criston pulled Rhaenyra out from under the boar as you continued to stab it, not stopping until it went completely still. The dagger fell from your hands, and you looked down, eyes widening in realization. Blood poured down your face and neck and the light purple fabric of your dress turned maroon.

“Fuck,” you hung your head.

“Fuck indeed,” Rhaenyra whispered, as she held onto Criston tightly.

“Cheers to Lady Vaelor, Slayer of Boars,” Criston breathed out before you fell over in exhaustion.

The following morning your trio finally made it back to the royal camp, exhausted, dirty and in need of a bath. The only upside was your kill which was being dragged by Criston’s horse. It soon became clear to everyone who had killed the boar. Climbing off your horse you tried to keep your composure as dozens of eyes watched you. Thank the gods your mother was not here or she would have dragged you off by your ear. Judgment and shock were evident on everyone’s faces as you walked alongside Rhaenyra. She had some blood splattered on her boots but you were drenched. It must have been quite the sight, Lady (Y/N) Vaelor, Princess Rhaenyra’s Lady in Waiting covered in the blood of the boar she had slain. What caught you by surprise was that in the sea of judgmental gazes there was a man, smiling. He was grinning as he peeled the skin off a rabbit, eyes roaming over you in a way that sent a delightful shiver over your body. Then you quickly realized who it was- Ser Harwin Strong. Thankfully the blush that spread across your cheeks was hidden by the blood. You were acquaintances with his brother Larys but had never gotten the chance to spend time with the man they called Breakbones. There he was eyeing you with a mixture of awe and something else, a sort of hunger. Breaking away from his gaze you followed Rhaenyra to your personal tent for a long awaited bath.

Later that evening you mustered the courage to come out of your tent and eat dinner. King Viserys had publicly thanked you for the boar, which was cooked for tonight. Not used to all of this attention you kept to the edge of the feast, picking at your meal. A shadow passed over you and when you looked up, your heart began to beat as fast as a hummingbirds.

“Ser Harwin,” you curtsied, dress pooling around you, tongue grazing your teeth to make sure nothing was stuck in it.

“At ease Lady Vealor,” he replied seriously as if you were a fellow member of the Night’s Watch, making you giggle. “That was horrible, I apologize,” Harwin chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, it was quite funny. How can I help Ser Harwin, if you are looking for the Princess-,” you began but he stepped closer to you, close enough that you needed to look up as he towered over you. “No, I was looking for you,” he said. Another blush spread across your cheeks and you found yourself at a loss for words. The most handsome man in Westeros (in your opinion because Rhaenyra would argue Daemon) was looking for you?!

“What do you say to going out on a small hunt of our own?” he asked hopefully. “I was impressed by your killing of the boar and I’ve heard you enjoy archery-,” he continued to ramble, as if afraid to hear rejection from you.

“I’d love to.”

Harwin paused, eyes widening with happiness and he suppressed the urge to sweep you up in his arms at the moment. Gathering his composure he stepped back, “Tomorrow morning then, I shall arrive at your tent at sunrise, My Lady,” Harwin bowed his head.

“See you then Ser Harwin,” you curtsied before dashing off to find Rhaenyra.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough and when Harwin announced himself outside your tent you were ready, flinging the curtain open. Harwin forgot what he was going to say as he looked down at you as he gulped. Gone was the usual purple dress, today you looked like a huntress. Hair braided away from your face, leather trousers, your house sigil of two spears embroidered on your vest.

“Good morning Ser Harwin, Princess Rhaenyra is spending the day with the King so it looks like I’m all yours today,” you greeted him with a shy smile.

“I’ll take any time I get with you Lady (Y/N),” Harwin smiled back before offering you his arm.

Your conversation had started light as you walked through camp, the usual pleasantries especially with so many ears around but as you made your way deeper into the forest you found yourself opening up more. Harwin was a great listener, nodding along to your stories and quite eager to learn more about you as he asked about your home, your life. It wasn’t long before you began to see evidence of rabbits in the area, Harwin insisting you take the lead on the hunt.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to be out there hunting down deer and wolves Ser Harwin, instead of hunting little rabbits with a Lady,” you teased as you crouched down. Harwin crouched down beside you, angling his body closer to yours.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be at this moment,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. Turning to look at him, you were entranced by the depth of his eyes and you resisted the urge to run your hand through his mess of curls, turning back to the task at hand. Harwin watched as you brought out your bow, silently parting the bushes to get a clearer look at your target.

Notching the arrow your eyes narrowed in concentration, as you prepared your kill. Slowly your breaths evened out and with a final exhale your arrow went flying before hitting the rabbit straight through the eye.

“Damn!” Harwin cheered, squeezing your shoulder. Other men would have chastised you for your skill, or felt their manhood threatened but not Harwin. Ser Harwin Strong was not like other men, and you could already feel the stir of love in your chest.

After a few hours you had amassed quite a few rabbits and hares, Harwin carrying them in a bag as you walked beside him. With every step your bodies inched closer, shoulders grazing one another’s. After a few more minutes you approached a small creek bed that led to the camp and before you could look for a log to cross over, Harwin offered you his hand. Thinking he would guide you through the small stream you took it, “Thank you Ser-,” you began but let out a squeak as he wrapped his muscular arm around your waist and hoisted you up against his body. Instinctively you curled up against him, arms snaking around his neck as he walked you both through the water. He did not let you go however until you came closer to the camp, not at all tired. As he let you down you fought the urge to pout, not wanting to leave his comforting grasp.

“I’ve had a wonderful time, truly,” you thanked him, looking up at Harwin.

“Please just Harwin,” he said, hand reaching out to wipe dirt off your cheek gently.

“Harwin,” you echoed.

“Can I ask you something?” Harwin asked a bit nervously, and you nodded. “Why did you say yes to coming with me? I know my reputation-.”

“I said yes because you’re not like other men. You asked me to hunt with you, not to watch you hunt. Your brother Larys speaks nothing but good things about you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me Harwin,” you said sincerely. It was Harwin’s turn to blush and he looked around quickly to make sure no one was watching. Leaning forward his hand came to cup your neck and for a moment you thought he was aiming for your lips but instead his lips pressed against your forehead in a sweet kiss, so delicate for someone nicknamed Breakbones.

“I will always be kind to you (Y/N), I will be by your side if you let me,” Harwin whispered as he stared longingly into your eyes.

“I want nothing more,” you whispered back before surging upwards to kiss him, not caring who saw. Little did you know your journey with him would not end there but your relationship would blossom and endure through a civil war of fire and blood. Ballads would be sung of his strength in battle and of yours in diplomacy and eventually dragon riding, and in the end your children would carry on the legacy of both your houses with pride and glory.

#harwin strong x reader #harwin strong #Ser Harwin Strong X Reader #hotd imagine #harwin strong imagine

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lucy90712 · 1 year

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request for jude plsss :) maybe jude taking reader to his training and make it fluffy

WC: 2.2k

Being in a long distance relationship is hard as you can't just spend time together whenever you want but it does mean that time spent together is extra special and always savoured. This is exactly what life is like for me and Jude. The two of us began dating when he was back in England one summer and before he left to go back to Germany we promised each other that we would really try to make long distance work and we have as two years later we are still together. Whenever we can we will see each other whether it's him coming over here when he has a few days off or me going to see him over breaks from uni. When I was applying to universities I looked at a few in Germany so that I could be closer to Jude but he told me not to move all the way out there just for him so I decided to stay in England to get my degree.

Now that my first year is officially over I have a good few months off and the first thing I did was book a plane ticket to go and see Jude. The idea is for us to spend the rest of the season in Germany and then head back home for the rest of the summer. My flight arrived late yesterday afternoon and since then Jude and I have done nothing but cuddle and enjoy each other's company. We talk at some point every day but we still spent hours catching up on things that had happened that we hadn't mentioned to each other. It was so nice to be alone together for once but sadly that can't last forever as Jude still has to go to training.

In the many times I have been to visit Jude I have never been to one of his training sessions I have been to plenty of games but never to a training session. This morning Jude asked me if I wanted to go with him and before I could give him an answer he started begging me to go as he wanted to introduce me to his teammates properly for the first time. Of course I agreed to go but I can't lie I'm a bit nervous about it. I have met a few of Jude's teammates mostly the ones he is closest to but I have never had proper conversations with any of them so the thought of meeting all these people at once is a bit daunting. It's very obvious that Jude's teammates care for him which means they are going to judge me to see if they think I'm really right for Jude which is what's making me so nervous.

Jude was so happy that I was coming to training with him that I decided to keep my nerves to myself and just get ready to go. By the time I was ready Jude had made breakfast for both of us which was only some porridge but honestly that's for the best otherwise he would've burnt the house down. After eating we had a bit of time until we needed to leave so Jude dragged me to the sofa and pulled me on top of him so that we could sit together. We watched some tiktoks together as he wanted to show me some funny tiktoks he'd see and then we ended up scrolling through his for you page which was so random as it had clips from tv shows, prank videos and then edits of him or other players. There was a few videos from one creator that he kept skipping through until I stopped him wanting to see what they were. Turns out they were all different date ideas some of which he'd saved for when we were finally together again which I thought was so cute.

The time we had disappeared in no time and before I knew it we needed to leave for training and I got all nervous again. I think Jude could tell I was nervous as he held my hand for the entire car journey and he even let me play my music which he always says he hates even though we like a few of the same songs. When we arrived there was fans waiting outside like there always is on game days hoping to see the players and get them to take pictures. I always hate this part as I don't like having people film me or take pictures of me as I like to keep myself off of social media as much as possible. As we arrived Jude drove in as quickly as he could and he told me to duck my head while he put his hand in front of my face to stop anyone getting pictures of me which I appreciated.

By the time Jude had parked the car I was really starting to feel nervous especially when I saw a few of his teammates walking in as it dawned on me that I'd have to talk to all of them at once. Meeting new people always makes me anxious but I get worse when I have to meet a big group of people as it always just feels like there is so many eyes on me. I'm almost more nervous to meet Jude's teammates than I was to meet his parents as at least then I knew what I was getting myself into but now I have no idea what's going to happen.

"You don't need to be so nervous babe I promise they will all love you" Jude said taking me out of the spiral I'd found myself in

"Are you sure I mean we're so different what if they think we aren't right for each other" I said

"They aren't going to think that remember opposites attract and I'm definitely very attracted to you" he said making me laugh

After Jude's pep talk I felt a lot better so we went in together and he walked all the way to the pitch with me so I knew where to go before he went all the way back to change. I wasn't on my own for long as Jude came running back with a few of his teammates before beckoning me over. As I walked over more of the team came out and they all stood watching me walk towards them which made my cheeks heat up as it was really awkward having so many people stare at me. When I got close enough Jude put an arm around my waist and pulled me into his side to press a kiss on my cheek which made me blush more than I already was.

"Guys this is my girlfriend y/n" Jude said

"Hi it's nice to finally meet you guys" I said

They all introduced themselves to me and gave me a hug which I wasn't expecting but it made me feel a lot more comfortable. They all asked some questions about me to get to know me better some of which I'm sure Jude will have told them but they still took an interest anyway. The more I spoke to them the more confident I was feeling so I let my guard down a little to show my real personality as I was holding back a bit to start with until I was feeling more comfortable. At some point I looked up at Jude who still had his arm around my waist and he had a big smile on his face which made me smile more too. As I turned back to continue talking to all the guys he leant down and kissed my head which made me blush like it does every time he kisses me in front of people.

It wasn't long before the guys actually had to start training so I went and sat back down to watch them. As they trained I was thinking about how I'd never be able to do any of what they do I like to think I'm fit as I go to the gym when I can but I would never be able to train as hard as they do or run for 90 plus minutes in games. I also took the opportunity to watch Jude train and see the way his muscles flexed and how the sweat formed on his forehead making him look incredibly hot. Jude also took every chance he got to look over to me and smirk if he could tell I'd been staring or blow kisses my way. At one point we had a bit of a staring contest which I lost but it was because Jude was making me blush so much that I had to look away or else I think I would've died.

Eventually all the guys were done with training so I made my way back over to Jude ready to go home and enjoy the rest of the day together. Completely out of nowhere he came running over and picked me up over his shoulder and brought me into the middle of the pitch where all the other guys were stood before putting me down. Despite putting me down he still had his arms tightly wrapped around my waist almost as if he was trying to stop me getting away from him.

"You two do know we are stood right here right" Mats teased

"You are so whipped man" Gio added

"I am not" Jude defended

"You definitely are we all saw the way you looked at y/n for the entirety of training and you can't keep your hands off her" Gio said

"Ok fine maybe I am but at least I have the prettiest girlfriend" Jude said giving in knowing he wasn't going to win this argument

The boys teased him for that even more before I managed to stop them by asking why we were stood in the middle of the pitch instead of going back in. Jude told me he wanted to put my football skills to the test which I absolutely didn't want to do but I couldn't get myself out of it as Jude wouldn't let me. The two of us have played with each other just in the garden a few times and I am yet to get more than a few meters before Jude gets the ball off of me so my skills are non existent.

To begin with a few of the other guys stayed behind and we started simple by just passing the ball to each other which I got the hang of quickly. Jude then tried getting me to control the ball from in the air which was much harder but after a few tips I managed to do it a few times. The guys really put me through my paces in testing my dribbling, passing and footwork skills which were all mediocre at best but Jude was proud of me and cheering me on which made me feel good. Before allowing me to stop Jude wanted to see if I could score a penalty so of course he made the tallest player go into the goal and gave me the ball so I could set it up how I wanted. First he gave me some advice on how to hit the ball and the best places to aim for statically which didn't really help as I don't know if I can even kick the ball hard enough in the first place.

Jude gave me one last good luck kiss before standing back to watch. For some reason I felt like I was actually in a penalty shootout and all of a sudden I wanted nothing more than to actually score despite knowing deep down the odds were stacked against me. I could hear Jude cheering my name as I took my run up and kicked the ball with my right foot thinking that was my better foot. Everything moved in slow motion as the ball headed towards the top corner of the goal and then hit the back of the net as it wasn't stopped on its way. In an instant Jude had ran over and started throwing me in the air before covering my face in kisses.

"That was amazing she's better than you bro" Karim said

"I don't know about that but thank you" I said

"No I vote we get rid of Jude and have you join the team" Gio laughed

"Hey don't disrespect your captain" Jude said

"Maybe they have a point love I mean surely I can only get better with more practice right" I teased

"Bringing you here was a mistake now you're on their side not mine" Jude joked

"What can I say they believe in my abilities" I laughed not able to take myself seriously

We all joked a bit more until all the guys headed into the locker room to change although I could still hear them teasing Jude while I was stood outside. Eventually he came back out and took hold of my hand so we could walk back to the car together. Jude used the journey home to tell me that I had no need to be nervous and he was right all of his teammates were really nice and I fell like I could become good friends with some of them which I didn't expect when I got here this morning. Turns out going to training with Jude was a lot of fun and I might just have to do it again.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines

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wyattjohnston · 6 months

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need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 4.8k

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In a moment of peak doom and gloom, Morgan wished she was at work.

The snowstorm outside was what she’d expected to wake up to; what she hadn’t expected was for her bedside lamp to produce zero light or for her house to be significantly colder than any other morning that month.

She used the last of her hot water to take a shower and then sat on her couch, pretending that she was a good Midwesterner and not affected by a little snow, and hoped that she got a good update on when her power would be back on.

As the morning got later and later, Morgan started to feel a spike of panic—the estimated time for the power being fixed was pushed back every half an hour until it was clear she wouldn’t be seeing light for at least another day, and the window for sorting out where she was going was narrowing.

She needed to get hold of Nick before he left for the airport.

It was becoming a little frightening how quickly Nick answered her calls. They were in their mid-20s, so it wasn’t weird for either of them to have their phone on them at all times. Morgan just usually waited until it rang a few times before answering.

Nick answered on the first ring every time without fail.

“Miss me already?” he asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

Morgan did, truthfully, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to ask you something a little wild.”

“I’m listening.”

“So… the storms have, uh, they’ve taken out my power?” she said—asked—cautiously, unsure of how to even approach her wild idea without just blurting it out. “And—I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place while you’re at home for Christmas.”

Just as quickly as he’d answered the phone, Nick said, “Come to Michigan with me.”

“That’s an even worse idea now than it was last week,” Morgan scoffed, glaring at the flickering shadows created by her candles.

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving this afternoon. It’s Christmas, and there’s no way there’s any plane tickets left.”

“It’s a four-hour drive. I can’t, but if you don’t mind driving in the storm, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and be there before dinner. I’ll try to get you a ticket right now, though. I’ll call you back.”

“Nick—if you don’t want me staying in your house without you—”

“I don’t want you spending Christmas by yourself. I want to spend Christmas with you, Mo. Can I sort this out and call you back?”

Morgan relented, even if only because she had no clue how else to respond. She waited for him to call back, not knowing if the flight or the drive would be worse for her self-control.

None of it worried her too much from a work perspective, as she used half of her generous PTO to take a break over Christmas when nobody else in the company wanted it.

From a personal perspective… spending Christmas at Nick’s family home with Nick’s family was one of the more daunting things she could think of doing.

Her phone rang after an hour of silence. She’d been preparing herself for a total reversal of his suggestion and was trying to plan how she was going to keep warm until her power was back on.

“We’re going to have to drive,” he told her, sounding a little harried and out of breath. “So, if you can pack enough for four days and walk to mine as quick as you can, we can leave as soon as you get here.”

“Nick… Just get on the plane, I’ll be fine here,” she insisted, hating that he was changing all of his plans at the very last minute just because the universe and the weather hated her.

“No can do. I already told my mom you were coming, and she’s preparing Katrina’s old bedroom as we speak.”

“You can’t use your mom against me.”

“It’s working, though. Isn’t it?”

Morgan huffed, stared out the window at the ongoing storm and bounced on the spot for a moment as she thought over the idea, over Karin expecting her, and finally said, “I need to pack.”

She rushed through packing enough for four nights, including something nice for Christmas Day when Nick made out that it was an all-out, extended family affair that had Morgan returning back to the idea of just staying in her frozen house. She managed, though, and packed far too much for what was essentially a long weekend and met Nick in his garage where he was waiting at his car with a smile even bigger than she was used to.

Relief coursed through her when she saw that his car was still a very sensible Toyota and not an expensive luxury car that he expected her to drive without warning—she hadn’t even realised that was a possibility until she was there.

Nick started talking instantly, setting up the route on Google Maps and hitting play on Spotify. Morgan was actually quite distracted by the CarPlay screen that took up the centre of the console because her car interior had to be pulled apart to plug in an aux cord. The four-hour estimated travel time stared back at Morgan, the longest drive she’d done since driving to Columbus, and she took a steadying breath. Being in a car with Nick for that long was going to be the hardest part of the entire trip.

“So, my mom has set up Katrina’s room for you, and Nolan will be staying in Alex’s room.”

“Nolan?” Morgan clarified, even though she knew it would be Moyle. “Does your family just take in strays?”

“My mom can’t say no to feeding somebody, you know that.”

She did know. Intimately. While she had never been one to focus on her weight, the lack of running in her life combined with the increase in hearty food was making her aware of the scales for the first time in a long time. She would never decline a home cooked meal, though, so it wasn’t worrying her too much.

Nick gave her a quick rundown of his extended family, as well as some extra information about his siblings. Morgan tried to commit it all to memory as best she could, even if she knew she would forget it the second she was faced with an actual person to put to a name.

Two hours into their drive, when they were nearing Toledo, Nick asked, “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed as she looked at their estimated arrival time of just after two. They hadn’t stopped yet, and she wasn’t mad at the idea of driving without a break if it meant getting there sooner.

“I could use a stretch, and I think your knee could, too.”

It wasn’t until Nick pointed it out that she realised she’d been rubbing at her sore knee and couldn’t say how long she’d been doing it.

“Can we stop somewhere I can buy presents?” she suggested, not ready to admit that it was to give her knee a break. Nick wasn’t stupid enough to miss the deflection.

It wasn’t until they were inside a shopping mall that Nick asked who she wanted to buy presents for.

Incredulously, Morgan’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to remember the list she’d been creating in the car, “Your dad? Your siblings? Moyle?”

“Nothing for my mom?” he asked, teasing, and pointing into the Yankee Candle store they were walking past.

Morgan directed him away with a hand on his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, even through his thick sweater. That wasn’t something she had ever thought about.

“I already bought her something when I thought she might still be in Columbus. I was going to run it over to you before you left for your flight.”

She would have had to see him anyway to give him his present to open on Christmas Day. She wasn’t even sure he realised she had something for him tucked away in her bag.

“Nobody is expecting presents,” he assured her, still being easily moved in any direction she led him.

“Sure,” Morgan nodded in agreement, only to immediately continue, “but I can’t just hand one to your mom and not get anything for anyone else. That’s so rude.”

Nick conceded and agreed to help her find something small for his family, only if she promised to not buy anything for Nolan who, he assured her, would not have taken the time to get her anything. That at least made sense to Morgan—nobody had known she was even coming until that morning.

Morgan had never had a more rushed shopping experience—and the only person rushing her was herself. They did manage to get out with presents for Karl, Alex and Katrina. Morgan hoped they were worth it. Even in her haste she made sure to buy something nice, something usable, something they would want. Nick wasn’t always very believable when he was trying to assure her she wasn’t just buying garbage. She didn’t think he was as bad a liar as she was; maybe she was wrong about it.

Walking around and stretching meant that Morgan made it through the rest of the drive without too much pain. There was some ibuprofen in her future regardless.

Karin greeted them when they arrived, Morgan melting into the hug because she missed them even after less than two weeks since her last. Karin didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. Her hug with Nick was just as long, anyway.

Between the three of them—two, really, with Nick on crutches—they managed to bring in everything packed into the Toyota and carry it up to the second floor and the bedrooms. Morgan’s bags were dropped into what she assumed had been Katrina’s childhood bedroom, but she didn’t stay there for very long before she wandered back down the hall to Nick’s room.

“Karl will be home soon, and we’ll have some dinner,” Karin said as they passed each other in the hall.

Morgan knocked on the doorframe to the room Karin had walked out of and tilted her head around the corner when Nick acknowledged her. He was simultaneously packing and unpacking, switching out clothes that he’d brought back from Columbus for things still in his drawers, his bad leg kneeling on a chair that looked like it belonged in the dining room. Morgan sat down on the end of his bed to watch.

Nick looked between her and the door, his cheeks brightening suddenly, and he stumbled over his words, “If we’re in a room together—or if you’re in a room with Nolan—or I guess the three of us together—the door—she knows we’re adults it’s just—a married thing and—”

“It’s fine,” Morgan said slowly with her head tilted. “Doors open. Pretty standard.”

With still red cheeks, Nick’s shoulders fell, and he mumbled, “Feels a bit like we’re in high school.”

Morgan hummed, it did feel a bit unnecessary when they were in their mid-20s and, more importantly, not in a relationship. Them not being in a relationship, though, was all the more reason to let it slide. She had nothing to hide.

A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but tease, “You bring a lot of girls home in high school?”

“We had, ya know,” Nick mumbled, again, his cheeks growing impossibly redder, “assignments and stuff.”

“Some biology? Human anatomy?” she prodded, leaning forward.

Nick’s head shook, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth, “My mom would have had my head if I’d pulled that.”

“You must have gone wild when you were shipped off to Alberta.” Morgan leant forward so excitedly that she nearly face planted off the bed. “And then to college? Nicholas Blankenburg, have you been holding out on me?”

His laughter stopped, and the mood in the room turned sombre rather abruptly. Morgan sat up straighter, worried about what she’d done to cause the sudden change.

“Was too busy pining over you in college to go wild.”

Morgan’s breath hitched. “You didn’t pine over me for four years.”

“Not four, no.”

Nick smiled gently as he spoke, the eye contact he was making with her, earnest and intense, had Morgan shifting with nervous energy.

“When is Nolan getting here?” she asked, deflecting.

“Right now!”

Morgan’s head snapped to the door at the loud, new voice. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nolan who had shouted at them. He walked into the room with his arms held wide and made a beeline for Nick. Morgan couldn’t help but feel like she was interrupting something when they hugged each other, speaking to each other in low, excited voices, so she took to looking around Nick’s unexpectedly bare room.

She’d expected more trophies, more jerseys, more proof that he’d played hockey his entire life. There were a few things, some posters and hockey sticks—

“Mo!”

Morgan looked forward to Nolan standing directly in front of her, his arms stretched just as wide as they had been for Nick. She rose to her feet and was immediately swept into a hug as if she was a long-lost friend and not just someone who, for two years, had been in the same, very expanded group.

Regardless, she greeted him happily and warmly. It was a hockey boy thing she’d never forgotten, that they all very much treated everybody they liked as if they were family. Nick’s easy acceptance in her life had been proof enough, but Nolan dropping down onto the bed beside her and starting up his own teasing of Nick did a good job at solidifying it.

Morgan didn’t even think as she followed Nick up the staircase—it was just the two of them, Nolan nowhere to be seen. She stretched out on Nick’s bed after switching on his bedside lamp to light the room, watching as he hobbled around the room, hanging up his coat and removing his tie. The movement was getting smoother, without a doubt, but there was still a noticeable caution.

“Your family is really great,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have them.”

She held her breath as he laid on the bed beside her and ignored the swoop in her stomach as he faced her and put his hands under his cheek on the pillow.

“Can I ask why you don’t talk to yours? I guessed it was pretty bad when you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them, and now you’re here for Christmas.”

Her shrug was awkward, but she tried to buy herself time to think of an answer he would understand.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s… People who are tight with their families don’t always get it.”

The tension that fell over the room was what Morgan had been worried about, the sudden tightness of Nick’s mouth as he considered what she’d said and the inevitable conclusions he would jump to if she didn’t elaborate. Except, if anybody would accept her not elaborating it would be Nick. He very clearly wasn’t going to push her, even if he had started to frown and looked anywhere but her face.

“I haven’t—”

“You don’t have to, Mo, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since I left for college,” she continued, her voice firm enough to ensure Nick knew she was comfortable with continuing. “My parents and I never saw eye-to-eye, and they couldn’t stand the idea of me going to college, especially not for cross country.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Marry Drew, and start popping out kids.” Morgan sighed, saying the real reason, “Stay where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever needing to keep an eye on you.”

“I was too worldly for their liking. Made me a bad daughter.”

She smiled—to herself, mostly—forever amused by the idea that she of all people was too worldly, that leaving Ohio for Michigan was some dangerous and exotic adventure, that returning to Ohio was her hooking up with the devil. Nick found it just as amusing, or maybe he just found her amusement amusing because he started smiling, too, and, before Morgan knew it, they were laughing together.

It quickly got out of hand, laughing at absolutely nothing, but hard enough that neither of them was really making much noise.

The distance between them was slowly slipping away as they laughed, Morgan listing forward with every desperate attempt at inhaling. Nick wasn’t leaning away, either, though, not even when the laughter eventually stopped, and they were just lying beside each other again.

With just the bedside lamp lighting the room and a small stream of light coming from the staircase, Morgan was captivated by the angelic glow on Nick’s already soft expression. An admission tumbled from her lips without much forethought; she didn’t even feel panicked by it.

“I regretted saying ‘no’ when you asked me out. Not right away, but you were really good about it and limited the flirting, and by the time you weren’t a freshman, and I didn’t have to feel weird about it… you stopped flirting all together.”

A conflicted grimace morphed onto Nick’s face, not bad enough for Morgan to regret what she’d said, but enough that if she’d known she would have held onto it for another moment.

“It was two-fold: that sort of persistence usually gets creepy, but it also sucked to get shut down like I did.”

“I heard you got a girlfriend.”

“Sophomore year, yeah. After I stopped asking about you all the time other girls started to pay attention to me.”

Morgan didn’t spend much time around the hockey team in her senior year—Nick’s sophomore year. The cross-country team’s strong connection to them had disappeared with the graduation of Sasha and Brendan, and any other friendships that had formed were enough for a plus-one to a party but not for either entire team to show up and wreak havoc.

Those friendships and plus-ones were more than enough, however, to get all the gossip that floated from the men’s hockey team, including Nicholas Blankenburg and his lovely, blonde, rowing team girlfriend.

“Nothing to do with you being twenty-one and on the hockey team?” she teased, combined with a gentle poke to his ribs.

He smirked, even if it was unexpected and self-disparaging, before shrugging coyly and admitting, “It didn’t hurt.”

Silence settled between them, Morgan just choosing to smile at Nick knowingly while still wishing that he’d started at UMich straight out of high school.

Nick’s eyes flickered to the door, and he said, “Hi Mom,” without any reservations, without moving an inch.

“It’s getting late,” Karin said from the doorway. “It might be time to let Morgan get ready for bed.”

Morgan knew that they were being told because Karin didn’t want them sharing a bed. If Morgan was less happy about being there, she might have been offended by the insinuation that she and Nick would get up to no good—they wouldn’t because they weren’t together. There was nothing for Karin to worry about, though, and nothing for Morgan to feel caught about because, despite being quite close to each other, they were on top of the covers, not at all touching.

Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket, then revealed the time to the two of them. It said it was nearing eleven—later than she had expected.

“It is bedtime,” Morgan conceded, rolling to plant her feet on the floor. When she was standing, she stretched out her back—they’d been lying there for a couple hours, and she didn’t realise how stiff she was until she was upright.

“I’ll see you kids in the morning. Make sure you get some sleep; it’s going to be a big day.”

“Course, mom,” Nick said, sitting up against the headboard.

They all said their good nights, and Morgan lingered for just a moment to smile at Nick. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to stay, to curl up under the covers beside him, but let the thought go.

She ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup before she changed into her pyjamas.

Nolan passed the bathroom and stopped in Nick’s door; Morgan only saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she must have been out of sight for him because he didn’t so much as poke his head in to say goodnight.

“I kept her distracted as long as I could, but I’m really bad at rummy, bro.”

Morgan could only assume that Nick responded, but she couldn’t hear; she was a little desperate to know if he had, to know what he’d said, but couldn’t very well ambush them and ask. She kept brushing her teeth and heard Nolan’s side of their conversation, though it was just them saying goodnight to each other.

She and Nolan entered the hallway at the same time, Nolan’s eyebrows raising just a little as they crossed paths. Morgan gave no indication that she heard anything—because she didn’t, really—just said goodnight, that she'd see him in the morning.

In the many years since Morgan had had a proper Christmas celebration, she didn’t think she’d missed it. Her family had been small—her, her parents, her dad’s parents and brother—so it had never felt like the huge affair she saw amongst her friends or on television. The madness around it always felt overdramatic.

Until she saw the Blankenburgs’ Christmas Day.

Despite talking to Nick until late and then lying in bed for far too long replaying their entire conversation, Morgan was roused before eight by a lot of noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like everyone had been awake for hours, they were so rowdy.

She popped her head into the hallway to get a read on if she had the time to have a shower and ran into Nolan at the top of the stairs. He’d been trying to sneak about, judging by the caught-out expression on his face. As soon as he realised it was a very awake Morgan, he grabbed her by the wrist and shouted down the stairs.

“She’s awake!”

Loud cheers resonated from the living room.

Gathered in front of the Christmas tree was Nick’s family—his parents, his siblings and their partners—drinking Karin’s delicious hot chocolate. They were clearly waiting for her to join them before they could start, and it formed a pit in the bottom of Morgan’s stomach.

She rushed to sit beside Nick on the couch, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat at the sight of him in his robe with his hair still in brushed. Everyone was wearing their robes except for Morgan as she’d been ambushed before she had the chance to grab it.

To make up for the lack of an extra layer, she sat so close to Nick she was practically on top of him. He didn’t flinch.

Panic set in when Morgan realised they were going to be opening presents. The process of how they would be opening them hadn’t really crossed her mind, and she was met with the prospect of everybody sitting and watching as each present was opened.

Alex had been given the task of handing out presents which meant Morgan, thankfully, didn’t need to leave Nick’s side. That meant, though, that she got a front row view of him opening her present for him.

There was a very unsubtle theme to her presents—the ‘lucky golf towel’, printed golf socks and a personalised scorecard holder which she honestly had bought blindly with her fingers crossed.

She chanced a look at Nick’s face when he’d opened everything, after seeing him run his finger over the monogram on the scorecard holder, and looked away instantly because she couldn’t bear the softness with which he was looking at her.

When Alex handed her a present from Nick, Morgan frowned at the size and weight of it. She opened it carefully, doing her best to ignore Nick’s close watch.

“Nick, this is ridiculous,” she protested, seeing the Nintendo Switch packaging.

“It’s selfish,” he assured her, his arm finally wrapping around her shoulders. “We can finally play games together when we’re not in the same room.”

She thanked him in a whisper and stared down at the gift. When she lifted her eyes for half a second, she caught Nolan’s eye just long enough to register the wink he sent her way.

And still it paled in comparison to the gift labelled from Mom + Dad. The label itself was enough to make Morgan want to cry, and, when she revealed the small Louis Vuitton bag inside, she just let the tears fall.

“Now I know where he gets it from,” Morgan managed to squeak out, referencing the ridiculousness she had accused Nick of.

Karin told her there was something inside the bag—Morgan couldn’t believe there was more—and, sure enough, Morgan unzipped the bag and pulled out the second part of her gift.

She was out from under Nick’s arm, on her feet and hugging Karin in a flat second.

All because of an apron.

Morgan knew leaving Washington was going to be hard as soon as she’d arrived. Nick was nice enough to let her delay their departure as long as she wanted, though. Their early morning departure time turned to midday, and by midday it was clear they wouldn’t be getting into Columbus until later that evening.

It didn’t matter to Nick when they were driving. He’d originally wanted to be home in time to watch the game against Buffalo on the television, but a snowstorm in Buffalo meant that the game had been postponed, so they no longer had to be back by a certain time.

Just prior to lunch, Karin asked to speak to Morgan privately. Nick was just as confused as Morgan when she looked to him for a clue as to what to expect; Nolan stood beside him wearing his best you’re in trouble face.

Karin shooed the boys away when they lingered. She gestured for Morgan to sit down at the bay window and went about making some hot chocolate while she asked Morgan about if she was going to be alright to drive back to Columbus and when she was returning to work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the lead up to the actual conversation, so Morgan sat patiently until Karin put mugs down on the table and sat down with her.

“I just want to talk to you about your knee.”

Morgan sighed, ignored the instantaneous ache, and nodded because she didn’t know what else she could do.

“It’s fine,” Morgan tried to assure Karin. “It’s really fine.”

Karin hummed, not at all believing it. Morgan needed to get better at lying.

“Nick mentioned that you’ve been trying to run again, and it hasn’t been going so well.”

“Not as well as I want,” she conceded. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Karl and I have been talking and we know that it must be incredibly hard to get the treatment you need to get better, and it must be equally as terrifying when it’s already not worked so well—we want to give you a loan to get you the medical care you need.”

“You—what?”

Across the table, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, Karin didn’t look as if she’d just offered Morgan wasn’t anything life changing or even important at all. Morgan wrapped her own hands around her mug and drank out of it, the burning of her tongue barely even registered.

“I know that Nick has already offered, but I don’t blame you for saying no to that kind of offer from a friend. We wanted to offer as parents.”

Morgan didn’t tell her that Nick had briefly mentioned the idea of marriage.

She did stumble over some disbelieving thank-yous and some clarifying questions before she started to cry. She had to think about it, of course, whether or not she wanted to be indebted to Karin and Karl—be indebted to the parents of a guy who had quickly become her best friend, and if it was worth the risk of something going wrong and multiple relationships going to shit.

Karin agreed to let her have time to think about it, that nothing needed to be decided any time soon, and that the offer would not be taken off the table.

When the next questions were about the drive back and whether or not the weather was good enough for them to get back safely, it gave Morgan some time to work through it before she was faced with Nick.

#nick blankenburg fic #nick blankenburg imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #cbj fic #need a little company fic

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metalheadmickey · 5 months

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New Year's Ask Game for Fic Writers 🤍

I was tagged by a couple of pals to do this a few days ago, and i'm finally getting to it! thank you @ardent-fox @suzy-queued @energievie 🖤

To close out 2023…

1) What fic did you have the most fun writing this year and why? Or, if you can’t decide, what was most fun about writing this year for you?

the most fun i had was while writing honeycomb, because julissa @heymrspatel and i got to play with our horny psychic link again and it was the BEST.

2) What’s a scene/story that you finished and felt “wow, I really accomplished that, that actually went so well”?

let them see. writing ian and mickey fucking with an audience and making it believable was HARD. i'm still not sure how well i accomplished that, but i'm proud of it.

3) What helped provide the most inspiration for stories, if anything? Was it poetry? A song on repeat? A gorgeous gifset? A walk outside? A book you read that made you want to change everything? Whatever it was! Tell all.

i listened to infinite granite by deafheaven on repeat. i just think it's beautiful, and it's good music for zoning out and imagining. lyrics from that album sometimes serve as working titles for my fics before they get real titles, and in fact i did name a fic after lyrics from that album. waiting in the light

4) What is something you want to share about what you’ve written this year? A particular line, a comment that made you feel really good, a scene that was difficult to write — you get to choose! What do you wish someone would ask you about when it comes to what you’ve written?

i just wanna talk about feels like a dream. setting the atmosphere for that was so fun. i wrote it so quickly, i could see it all so clearly in my head. i wanna talk about ian sucking on mickey's tongue. i wanna talk about the moment ian puts the collar on mickey and how he gets him to tell him why he wants it. i wanna talk about how ian talks to him and takes care of him and makes him feel owned. i wanna talk about how mickey sucks ian's dick like he needs it to live. i wanna talk about how important the atmosphere is in that moment, how even they felt like they didn't want to move too quickly and disturb what they had built up that night. i wanna talk about how mickey's so sleepy while ian's fucking him that he wonders if his orgasm is going to jerk him awake or make him even more sleepy and blissed out. oh god, and mickey calling ian daddy throughout. i just think it's sexy. i wrote it in september but i posted it at the very end of kinktober when people were likely just burnt out on it, but it's there and it's dreamy and it's kinky and i like it.

And to start off 2024…

1) Do you have any writing/creation goals for the year? What are they?

yes! i just want to post more fics. i still want to participate in kinktober and i want to format it differently this year. i want to write a multichapter au as well.

2) Is there a fic or idea that you’re really excited to be able to continue to work on in the new year (shout out to my fellow fic writing folks who take forever to finish wips, sometimes it’s nice to be able to continue working on something even if you wish you’d gotten it done! Now you get even MORE time with it!)

yeah, that multichapter au idea! i had written quite a bit for it and i HATED the direction it was going in and it made me want to scrap the whole thing. i had a helpful conversation about it with bee a few weeks ago and i've got new ideas for it, so really i want to tackle that. it just feels daunting because i've written thousands of words that i feel like i need to get rid of. i basically need to start over to make it work. but it'll happen!

3) What’s something new in your writing you want to try/are going to try? A different writing style? Different fandom? Darker works? Fluffier? Longer or shorter?

baby's first au! also i think i mentioned this before but i wanna try writing destiel smut. like deeply emotional, feral, inhuman, otherworldly reunion fucking. we'll see if i ever get to it though.

4) What’s something you love about your own writing that you will continue to appreciate in the new year?

i think i'm good at writing physical sensation. i find smut really fun and i think i'm pretty good at it. not just because i'm good at describing physical sensation, but for all kinds of reasons. i think i'm reasonably good at keeping ian and mickey in character while they're doing all kinds of things, and i like that. i think i'm good at setting a tone and atmosphere. i don't know man i just like it to be a sensory experience, and i think it often is.

i'm late but i'll tag a few people anyway! @whatwouldmickeydo @whatthebodygraspsnot @gallawitchxx @sisitrip @thisdivorce if you guys are interested in playing/haven't done this yet 💚

#tag game

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thegalleonsnest · 6 months

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Hey, I wanna talk about Homebody, since I beat it the other day!

So first of all, this game came out a few months ago, and I had no idea about it. The game is essentially a time looping, fix camera angled, psychological horror game, where you need to figure out how to escape the house or die trying. It's got that low poly look to it all, which fits the nostalgic kind of feel of older horror games of the ps1 era.

(Just gonna add a read more cause I do go on for a bit lol)

You play as Emily, meeting up with her old group of friends for an annual meteorite watch. She hasn't spoken to them in over a year, and she's dealing with her own set of issues. Not like her friends haven't been free of her own either. The game deals with issues like OCD, depression, and anxiety, and you can get a feel for it as you spend time talking to the others on each loop. Figuring out each other's relationship dynamics, their past issues, their current beefs, and how to move on; but that's only one part of it.

You're stuck in this house until you either figure out how to get out, or die due to a relently killer on the loose, who will be on the prowl looking for you as you go around the house, and will interupt you while solving puzzles. But, you have time, and that is something you gotta keep track of, along with a list of events that can determine when and where you should be when your taking care of business. It keeps you on your toes while trying to keep track of your tasks, but it can feel daunting or overwhelming first starting out. You gotta familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and what ends up being important or not with your first few loops.

But once you get the ball rolling, you'll be sliding through one puzzle to another. And I gotta say, I do like the puzzles! (Outside of minesweeper, cause I was never that good at it lol). There's enough hints for each puzzle you come across, and even your friends can provide explanations for the more obtuse puzzles (which I do think is very important to learn for some of the later stuff, cause I would not have been able to piece it together on my own just by glancing at it, let alone while everything still runs in real time.)

And if you're worried that you're gonna have to remember almost everything, don't worry, Emily has a steeltrap memory. You can review your puzzle hints and solutions in the pause menu. After certain points, certain puzzles will be removed for future loops, or even certain passages will be unlocked from the getgo. Just to remove either the monotony or otherwise completely unnecessary to resolve, which is nice for when you have to go deeper into the house.

Homebody ended up gripping me for the whole ride, just trying to figure out how to efficiently spend each loop, while trying to learn more about the gang as a whole and what their whole deal was, and seeing if we can get over that baggage that's been weighing on our shoulders without dying. Even learning who the owner of the house was and what his life was about that led this house being the way it is.

I highly recommend this game if you're looking for some good brain teasers, an interesting ride through mental health and dealing with that sweet, sweet psychological horror.

#Homebody #Homebody Game #Galleon Reviews

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tinkerd · 1 year

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The Kid Christmas Sketchbook Part 2

A second peek behind the scenes of my latest book 'Kid Christmas: Of The Claus Brothers Toy Shop'

A few days ago I shared the scruffy, sketchy beginnings of what would become my sixth author/illustrator book ‘Kid Christmas: Of The Claus Brothers Toy Shop (Out NOW)

Today we are going to look at the next stage in creating the book: The Terrifying Rough First Draft stage.

First Draft

It’s not really that terrifying to be honest, but there is always a bit of trepidation when I send this off to my editor. It’s the first real look at how the book is going to turn out. Its when I see if the excitement and enthusiasm I felt in the sketchy stages is actually going to pay off and the book does have potential to be as good as I felt it would be.

I probably (definitely) do over think these things- everything can still be changed at this stage after all, so yes it probably shouldn’t cause as much stress as it does- but its still a daunting moment.

For the first draft rough I take my sketches from my sketchbook and basically spruce them up so that they are more presentable. I do this stage mainly digitally, using my hand drawn paper sketches as a blueprint and drawing over them with my fancy Wacom tablet. At the same time I will hone the idea and story structure as this process goes on.

A lot of further big creative decisions are made here too. In fact that happens a lot during the whole process. Things will change, story ideas will develop and artwork will be tweaked all the way up to it being prepared to print.

The first step of that happens after I send through the First Draft Rough. My editor and art director will have a say on the drawings and offer input on what to change and how to move the story along. Sometimes this can be pretty brutal as being an arty type I am automatically a big old control freak. But I very quickly learnt that making books is a wholly collaborative process. Even though my name is on the cover all of my books have very much been a creative collaboration.

Anyway, I’m rambling a fair bit now, so why don’t we just have a look at some of the pages from the first draft rough :)

The Cover

Around about the same time as creating the First Draft I will start thinking about the cover. The publishers don’t usually want to see a cover sketch until the books rough internal pages are all ready to go to artwork. But the cover is always on my mind. For me seeing the cover- all be it in sketch form- helps to characterise the entire book. So I often think of the cover very early on.

Another thing that publishers will like to see is a number of different options for the cover. So I aim to sketch out 5 or 6 for them to choose. I definitely had my favourite of the sketches and assumed that they would also go for it. However, I was very surprised that they went for the final design. I love it, and I can now totally understand why it was chosen. But my favourite was actually the image right at the start of this newsletter- with Nicky and his uncles standing proud outside the Toy Shop. Nicky isn’t even in his Santa costume - I thought that we should keep that a big secret- which I now look back on as being a bit of a crazy decision on my part. Again, it shows how important the collaboration aspect is to making books. Having other insights and opinions are really vital.

Ok, here is a look at the cover sketches that I presented, including the design that we ended up using.

Phew….so there we are.

Hopefully you have had a little further insight into the sketching stages of ‘Kid Christmas’.

Thank you so much for reading these two- slightly rambley- recollections of how the idea developed (you can read Part 1 HERE)

Great Thanks also to everyone who has read the book. I’ve been absolutely chuffed to bits with the response that the book has had and it has made all the hard work and trials and tribulations (as fun as they all are) worth it.

Happy Christmas all. Ho Ho Ho.

David :)

#kid christmas #kidchristmas #sketchbook

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keepyourvoicedown89 · 4 months

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You look around and can’t believe it. As you stand in your brand new 700 sq foot loft in downtown LA, you take a deep breath and look past the stacks of boxes you have yet to unpack, out the window to the toy district’s art deco building across the way. The sun is shining through the large factory windows and you can hear a neighbor’s music beat a rhythmic hum. You’re sure at some point that will be annoying. But right now, you love it. It’s a sign of life, and this is the life you’ve been wanting to build for years. You’re taking in this moment for what it is: you’ve done it. You’ve finally moved to a bigger city. This is your attempt to find whatever it is your heart feels pulled to (even though you have no idea exactly what it is).

It's been nagging at you under the surface for years. Though you had a full life in your hometown, it never felt exactly like what you wanted. Something always felt missing. Dating was abysmal at best, searching for a needle in a haystack amongst a field of toxic masculinity and piles of broken relationships. Sure, you’ve done work on yourself, and could see yourself happy wherever you lived. But you couldn’t ignore that deeply rooted pull to the west coast that became so strong you had to give into it. When the pull became too strong, you started looking for jobs at publications in California. You were done being a big fish in a small pond at a hip, local scene publication back home. After a zoom interview in the bag and some writing samples submitted, your first day at your new job at Crescendo Magazine, the nation’s most popular music magazine, was in a week. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest job at the best place, but you were on your way up in the business. You have to start somewhere as a little fish in a big pond.

Just not yet. First, you get to settle into your new life.

You take a deep breath, take a mental snapshot of this first day in your new city, just an hour after the movers have dropped off your stuff. Just as you’re about to unpack your first box, your phone rings from your pocket. Your mom’s voice greets you enthusiastically on the other end of the call.

“Did everything make it okay? How does it look? I can’t wait to see it once you get your personality all over the place!” she says excitedly. Your mom has always been your biggest support. She had done all the research with you on where you might live in LA, and flown out to the city with you to look at a few places before deciding on the loft where you stand.

“It’s great, mom. I still can’t believe I’m here. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I do! If you look in the box labeled ‘kitchen box one’, I threw in some gift cards for some of the local coffee shops and restaurants in your new neighborhood to get you out of the house and exploring. I snuck out and grabbed some while you were still sleeping when we visited. Why don’t you go out and be a part of the neighborhood a little bit, nourish yourself, let the neighborhood welcome you, and then get back to work?”

“Mom! Oh my gosh, thank you. It feels so daunting to even step outside until I unpack all of this,” you say looking at the towers of boxes scattered throughout the room. You sit on your couch while you grab the box she identified and open it. Sure enough, there are a handful of cards inside an envelope at the top of the box.

“Get out there and go find your people, your places, and your things, my dear. Call me later today to let me know you got home safely. I love you.”

You hang up with your mom and put the gift cards in your back pocket of your cut off shorts. Your favorite old Get Up Kids concert T-shirt, with tears in the shoulder and the right side, somehow looks trendy even though it’s from wear. It drapes on you, and you consider changing before heading out on your first adventure in your new neighborhood. Your long, brown hair is tied up in a messy bun on top your head with your loose curls tickling your neck. You disregard the thought of changing, grab your keys, your journal, a pen, and head out the door.

Outside, there’s pockets of people wandering the streets. Some look like tourists, with that familiar upwards gaze looking at the buildings or the constant searching through faces for famous people. You pull the cards out of your back pocket and start looking up names of coffee shops that match the cards. You pick the one right in the middle of the map so you can have a bit of a walk. There aren’t too many cars out this early on a Sunday. LA doesn’t wake up until 10am anyway, you’ve heard. Everyone’s probably still climbing out of bed.

Once inside the coffee shop, you order from the generic looking horn-rimmed glasses wearing, mustached hipster. You grab the number on the metal stand for your food, and find a spot near the large windows and wait on your latte and breakfast sandwich. It’s still pretty empty in the shop, and you have your pick of places to sit. The smell of coffee beans starts waking up your senses. You think to yourself about calling the one friend you have in the area to invite them for coffee, but decide to stay on your own. It’s harder to be on your own in a new place than you thought. It’s anxiety inducing to sit there without the grounding of familiarity. You open your journal and find yourself staring at the blank page hoping writing will ease your anxious thoughts. You glance out the window at the people passing by. Groups of hip, casually dressed thirty-somethings chatter as they head to the restaurant across the way for brunch. There’s a small group of people on the corner in the direction towards your apartment hovering around someone. Likely, a celebrity of some kind. That’s something you’ll have to get used to. Most of the time the “famous” people aren’t those you’d consider a celebrity, anyway.

Your food arrives and you thank the barista as they barely nod in acknowledgment and walk away. You lean into your journal while slowly drinking your latte. You’re pouring your energy into your writing while you feel the tables around you become occupied. A man’s voice mumbles “excuse me” from behind you and without looking up you apologize and scoot your chair towards the table to give him room to sit down. A few minutes pass, and you feel someone’s eyes on you. You don’t want to make it awkward, so you drop your napkin and reach down to pick up and scan the room in the direction you feel the gaze. From a few tables over, a man with sunglasses and blonde curly hair smiles at you. You manage a half-assed close mouthed smile and go back to your writing.

The feeling of the gaze doesn’t go away. About fifteen minutes later you’re about to say something when you look up and notice the man isn’t even there anymore. In his place, two girls sit talking and continue to glance your way while they chat with each other sipping their espresso. The girl with her back to you turns her head and makes eye contact with you while the girl facing you mutters something glancing down.

“Oh no,” you think. “Did I spill something on me? I must look a mess. They’re mocking me because of how unkept I look.” You self-consciously look down at your T-shirt and don’t see anything spilled on you. Maybe your hair? You pull out your top bun and mess with your curls and accidentally bump the man behind you.

“oops, sorry,” you mumble while you nervously adjust your shirt.

“ ‘salright, darlin’,” a soft male voice replies.

You glance back towards the girls and there’s now a couple more looking over. What is going on? Less than a day of living in LA and you’re somehow a social pariah?

You hear a female voice behind you. The barista is bringing the man behind you his coffee. “here you go, one espresso and a breakfast sandwich.” She hovers by the tables. “is there anything else I can get you?”

The male voice speaks again, and you notice a british accent. “no thank you, love. this should do it.”

Where have you heard that voice before?

You glance around again and see the girls who were looking at you before looking a bit beyond you. Suddenly you realize they aren’t looking at you at all. They’re looking at the man behind you.

Where have you heard that voice before??

You put your head back into writing as you finish your sandwich. Just as you’re about to finish your latte one of the girls from the table is walking your direction. She makes eye contact with you again and widens her eyes as she passes you and addresses the man behind you.

“Excuse me? I hope it’s not rude of me to interrupt you while you write, but I wanted to tell you I love your band so much. Could I have an autograph?” She asks him.

A band. Ah, a musician. Of course. Your first day out and you end up sitting next to some famous musician. You don’t want to turn around so obviously, but the suspense is killing you.

“Hi, darlin’. Absolutely, you can have an autograph. Who might I make it out to?”

“Morgan.”

A few moments pass, and the voice speaks again. “Here you are, Morgan. Thanks so much for loving our band.”

She walks away with a skip in her step and she and her friend leave. The minute they’re outside, you watch as they both giddily jump up and down and squeal. You chuckle about their delight and take the last sip of your latte. You feel the chair behind you bump into yours.

“ ‘s a good feeling making them that happy just to say hi,” the familiar voice says. You turn your head in his direction and see him glancing out the window at the girls’ direction. He turns his head, his dark curls dangling there just as unkept as yours, but his are tighter. You immediately recognize that hair. The minute you see those curls and the glimmer of his eyes through the sunglasses, you know exactly whose voice that is.

It’s matty healy.

Your heart sinks to your stomach and you’re not sure what to say in response.

So you don’t say anything at all.

He leans his chin on his right hand while he looks at you sideways. “I saw your Get Up Kids T-shirt when I walked in. I love that album. Great choice.”

Oh, okay. So the first human you’re going to actually interact with your first day in town as a local is Matty Healy. This is fine.

“Thanks. It’s one of my favorites,” you mumble looking down at your shirt. There’s a pause where neither of you say anything at all. You’re unsure if you should make a statement about his band. You know who his band is. You’ve seen them perform.

“Midwest emo, huh? A girl after my heart.” He says moving his sunglasses to the top of his head. His brown eyes feel like they’re consuming your entire being. It’s all a lot. This man knows how to make you feel SEEN. It is both delightful and terrifying. It feels like he can read your thoughts. You nervously giggle.

“That’s what I thought when I woke up this morning. I’ll wear this and grab some depressed emo kid’s heart and run.”

“Who am I??” you think as the words fall out of your mouth.

“Consider your day a success then,” he says. His eyes drop to the tear in the shoulder. His glance lingers there before returning north and meeting your eyes. “I’m Matty.” It feels like he’s taking in every cell in your body.

You look in his eyes and don’t look away. There’s an electric feeling shooting throughout your body. You don’t say your name for a second, and then you smile and tell him. He smiles back and bashfully looks down. He’s not shy, surely.

You look away and see a notebook in front of him on the table, and nod in its direction. “looks like we’re both writing?”

“yeah. Writing kind of morning, I ‘spose,” he says looking towards your journal. You both chuckle.

“i guess so. I wanted to write a bit before I head back to my new apartment and unpack.”

His eyes perk up. “oh? Just moved to Lalaland? Welcome. It’s…something.” He adjusts the way he’s sitting to turn more towards you, with his hand draped over the back of his chair as he leans on his right arm on the table.

You laugh. “The way you colored that ‘something’ tells me all I need to know.” You adjust your body position and accidentally brush your arm against his fingers. An immediate warmth rushes from the spot where you both touched on your arm all through your body. He glances down to his hand and his gaze slowly comes back up to meet yours. There’s another moment of pause.

“it’s an interesting enough place to write, that’s for sure,” he says after a moment. God, does he know when he looks at you it feels like he bores a hole into your soul? “so, are you a writer?”

You nod. You giggle. “you?”

He pauses for a moment, unsure if you were kidding for a nanosecond.

“Sometimes. Right now, yeah.”

“Well, well, well. We should write together sometime.” Your boldness surprises you. It surprises Matty, too.

“Considering how much we’ve both gotten done today on our writing, maybe that’s not such a good idea,” he quips back. His glance lowers to the tear lower in your shirt.

Oh, that wasn’t meant to shoot you down.

You’re uncertain what to say back when his phone starts buzzing from the table. “oh, I’ve gotta take this. One sec. Hello?” he says picking up the call.

You needed this pause to check in with reality. Are you really flirting with Matty Healy right now? Did you almost invite him back to your bare apartment?? You pick up your phone and check it like you have messages to check. Instead, you’ve checked how you look in your camera to see just how messy you look. Oh, god. You’ve got to try to clean yourself up. You quickly decide to run to the restroom to straighten up. As you stand, Matty’s head snaps and the look on his face tells you he’s questioning if you are leaving. You shake your head and gesture towards the bathroom door a little bit away, and mouth asking him if he can watch your stuff. He nods as he continues the conversation on the phone.

The minute you’re in the bathroom you look at your reflection and quickly try to correct the fly away curls and adjust your wrinkly T-shirt and cut offs. Crap, there’s no coming back from this. You met Matty Healy in your scrubby clothes.

You’re gone just long enough to approach the tables where you’re both sitting to hear him laughing as he’s turning towards his own table away from yours. His eyes watch you approach and his head slowly follows you as you sit back down. After a moment you hear him wrapping up. “..okay. I’ll see you soon. Yeah, I know. We’ll see. ..Exactly. Okay. Bye.” His eyes meet yours again after he takes the last sip of his espresso. Is there disappointment in those eyes? You must be projecting. You have to be.

“It’s been lovely meeting you, darlin’. I’ve gotta run. Enjoy LA. The city’s definitely better now that you’re here.” He stands up and turns towards the door. As he does, his hand touches your shoulder and squeezes with care. You look up at him and see him looking down at you with a dark glimmer in his eye while his hand lingers on your shoulder. You can’t help it, you imagine the sight of him at that angle in the dirtiest way. He smirks at you as if he also imagines the same thing, but you know he can’t be. His hand hasn’t moved from your shoulder, and you haven’t said anything back yet.

“I’m glad you were the first person I’ve met in LA, Matty.” You say looking up at him. He smiles, and walks towards the door and heads around the corner away from the direction of your apartment.

You sit there frozen for a moment before grabbing your things awkwardly and heading back home. As soon as you’re home, the mountains of boxes call you to unpack but you are shaking from the encounter. You decide to call your mom instead. Excitedly, you tell her all about the encounter and how you didn’t even know he was there. She gets just as excited as you, since she knows how much you like the band. You tell her how you were where she bought the gift card and writing in your journal and didn’t know he was behind you. As you’re telling her the story, you grab your journal and open it to a random blank page a little bit after where you’ve stopped writing. There, in scribbled handwriting, is a message. You freeze.

“Honey? Honey? Are you still there? What happened?”

Scribbled towards the bottom of the page is a message in Matty’s writing.

“Let’s get together. Matty xx” and his number right after.

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic

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theauthorlives · 1 year

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❤️ Dating Sim Tropes ❤️

REPOST AND FILL IN WITH DETAILS ABOUT YOUR MUSE AS IF THEY WERE A CHARACTER IN A DATING SIM.

(What? Of course I was going to use this one!)

NAME: Yancy. Never expect to hear the birth name. And definitely NEVER use it if you do learn it. (Exception is if it's the parole/space setting. He still defaults to Yancy, but he changed his name to Mason Dean for official documents and stuff... Since none of the parole officers approved of the idea of him using 'Yancy')

THEIR PROFESSION: None, due to being a prisoner. When on parole or in Space, he's a mechanic (though he does briefly work as a construction worker when he initially hits parole so he has some sort of job for his resumé)

FAVOURITE FOOD TYPE: He's not that fussy. He's spent years eating simple food, with little access to variety (it took him ages to save for anything in commissary since he didn't have anyone on the outside to put money into his account). Because of this, he tends to gravitate toward salty snacks, but he's happy to try new things.

FAVOURITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK: Same reasoning as above. He's not had alcohol beyond hooch wine in eight years. He actually was on a path to cut it out nearly entirely, so it's not a big loss. He liked his beers though.

FAVOURITE TRAIT: Honesty. He doesn't want to be led on in a lie. He tries so hard to push people away, but he knows he falls fast for people. He doesn't want someone stuck with him because they were too polite to refuse (or were afraid of setting off his abandonment issues). He also wants someone to be honest about who they are. If they're having a bad day, tell him! He doesn't mind if he's dating someone who isn't a saint. He's a sinner, by all accounts. He'd rather date the person as they are. After all, he'd hope the other person still likes him on his bad days. He's better than he was, but he still has REALLY bad days sometimes. He wouldn't want to scare them off.

WHERE THEY WOULD GO ON A DATE: In prison, it would be a conjugal visit. It's a small apartment-like setup. Simple, but homey. Very cute. In a parole or Space setting, he wouldn't know where to start, and would rather the other person choose. The idea of being able to go nearly anywhere is still somewhat daunting for him. There's a lot of world he's missed out on over eight years, and he was too poor to properly enjoy anything before that (he never left his hometown until he was shipped down to a Texan prison). He's happy to have time to rediscover the world.

IDEAL GIFT: He's a man of few belongings. Prison taught you to be a minimalist, purely by necessity. So it means that... He doesn't really own a lot of anything. You could give him a pair of socks and he'd love them, or you could give him a little box where he could tidy magazines into. Something practical would be amazing. Also, anything car or motorbike themed. He would be SO excited to get a magazine.

WHEN WILL THEY DRINK ALCOHOL: Rarely. As mentioned earlier, he cut down his drinking immensely (go him!). He'll really only take a glass of something if in the company of someone. Sometimes he'll have a drink when smoking, but it's also very rare.

TAGGED BY: @c-aptainslog u.no reversed me!! :O :O :O

TAGGING: Hm... Hey! @starsadored! Do one of your muses! >:D Oh! Wait! And @merrick-of-violet! Don't think I've seen this on your end yet!

#yancyheadcanon #food tw #(... I missed my boy so I prioritised him. Sorry if you were intending me to do someone else ;A; )#(and I never considered that he'd be so appreciative of gifts most would take for granted. The more you know!)

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denimbex1986 · 4 months

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'Andrew Haigh began getting a sense of the knockout power of his new film, "All of Us Strangers," a few days after it premiered at the Telluride Film Festival.

"I'd run into people who had seen the film three days before. I'd be talking to them and they'd just start crying," Haigh says, laughing. "And I'm sort of both apologetic and quite glad that it shook them to their core."

Haigh, the 50-year-old British filmmaker of "45 Years" and "Lean on Pete," is accustomed to strong responses from his films. His 2011 breakthrough, "Weekend," about a tender but brief romance, is considered a landmark of queer cinema.

"That that film has had an effect will probably always be the thing that I'm most proud of," Haigh said in an interview earlier this fall when "All of Us Strangers" was playing at the New York Film Festival.

Yet Haigh's latest, which opens in limited release Friday, may be his most shattering. Andrew Scott stars as Adam, a lonely screenwriter who, while toiling on a script, is transported back to his childhood home where he finds his long-dead parents (Claire Foy, Jamie Bell) as they were when Adam was 12. At the same time, Adam is hesitantly exploring a relationship with a neighbor named Henry (Paul Mescal).

The result is something magical and mournful that draws profound connections between familial love and romantic love, between gay life and estrangement, and between a pair of strangers nursing shared wounds. For Haigh, who shot the childhood scenes in the home he grew up in, it was also highly personal.

"I was entering my past as Adam was entering his," Haigh says. "The whole process felt like a slightly expensive therapy session."

Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.

Q: This is the first time you've attempted something in a metaphysical realm. Was it daunting?

HAIGH: It was really daunting. When you set a film, everyone's like, "What's it like? What can you compare it to?" And I knew I was going to be in for a tricky ride because I couldn't think of anything to compare it to. I'm obviously trying to do something different that is not really a traditional ghost story. It's a metaphysical realm, but I still wanted it to feel grounded.

Q: You depart from the Japanese novel by Taichi Yamada the film is based on, adding the romantic storyline. What lead you in that direction?

HAIGH: I loved the central idea in the novel about the parents but wanted to add this layer of this relationship and how that relates to the grief of losing his parents, wrapped up in the trauma, as he sees it, of growing up an outsider, growing up gay. I felt they meshed in a really interesting way. Those kind of traumas and pains and struggles can be linked. And I always wanted to tell a story about the pain that we carry around with us, and how easily it can come to the surface again.

Q: That was also the case in your "45 Years," where a longtime married couple is rocked when the husband's long-ago lover is found in a melting glacier. Both films have a frozen-in-time element.

HAIGH: I think all of my films are concerned with time. "Weekend" is set over 48 hours. "45 Years" is set over a week, yet it seems to go back in time. Time feels really unstable to me. You can be transported back 40 years just by hearing a song. And you can feel what it felt like when you were 12, you can literally feel it in your whole body. We're constantly haunted. The love that you feel for people that have been lost is as intense years and years later. It's exactly the same intensity of feeling. Nothing else is like that, that intensity.

Q: There's a scene when Adam tells Henry about his parents' death but says it was a long time ago. Henry replies, "I don't think that matters."

HAIGH: That to me is such a key line. I think for lots of things, we're convinced that we've gotten over them. We're told, "Time heals all wounds." But it doesn't. You feel it in your body, physically. You remember the pain you used to feel. We pretend we're OK but, of course, most of the time we're not. And we're still children. I'm 50 now and sometimes I feel like, "My God, I'm 10." How is that even possible? You're supposed to become an adult. When does this happen that I become an adult?

Q: One of the movie's most lovely moments is when Adam puts on his childhood pajamas.

HAIGH: Exactly. It's so absurd, that moment. We all still want our Christmases to be like we remember even if those Christmases were miserable at the time. We kind of have this strange nostalgic sense of what childhood should have been. I think for a lot of queer kids, there's a sense of grief that they feel that their childhood wasn't the childhood that they wished they could have had. There's a sort of mourning that queer people can go through wishing desperately for a thing that didn't exist.

Q: Did you feel that way?

HAIGH: Absolutely. I felt like an outsider for a very long time as a kid. It took me a long, long, long time to come to terms with my sexuality. I didn't come out until my mid- to late-20s. It took me a long time. And my childhood had some complications. I always felt on edge. And I think that's how a lot of people feel, whether you're gay or not. Lots of kids feel slightly estranged from their family.

Q: The way you introduce Jamie Bell's character — he seems almost like a potential lover — seems to immediately draw a connection between his relationship with Adam and Adam's relationship with Henry.

HAIGH: I feel really strongly that parental love is how you understand love in general. So it's bound to feed into romantic love. I always found that the feeling of romantic love is so similar to the feeling of love you have for your family. There's a difference, but they're so connected, which is is why it's so hard to forge relationships unless you felt huge amounts of love and protection when you're younger.

Q: I wouldn't want to give away the film's gorgeous ending, but I have to ask what pushed you to conclude it in such a cosmic way?

HAIGH: I do want it to have some kind of cosmic feeling to it. Someone said to me, "Stars can be dead for millions of years but you still see their light." A little bit cheesy, I guess, but, still, it's sort of true. Also as a kid, I never thought growing up in the '80s that I would be able to be gay and have a relationship and be in love. I thought it was an impossibility. When I was making the film, I was like: You know what? I'm going to make the sense of love massive. I want to go into the stars.'

#Telluride Film Festival #Andrew Haigh #All of Us Strangers #Andrew Scott #Paul Mescal #Jamie Bell #Claire Foy #45 Years #Lean On Pete #Weekend #Taichi Yamada

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bluemountainspainting · 1 year

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Tips To Choose The Best Exterior Paint Color

Exterior painting is an important aspect of your home as it can help significantly enhance the curb appeal of your property and present an inviting look to your family and guests. When you might search for Exterior Painters Near Me, choosing the right color for your home exterior can be a daunting task and here are a few tips to guide you through choosing the best exterior paint color for your beloved home.

Explore your surroundings

Much before you start the mission of painting your home exteriors, step outside and examine the hues of the homes in your neighborhood. The two approaches to learning from the neighborhood are here. You may either want to blend your home color to match with the pattern of the majority of homes or you may want your home to make a stunning difference from other homes. Linda Hayslett from LH Designs gives a tip, "If there are a bunch of white and gray homes, then a navy blue could be a nice color to stand out. That way, you don't look too similar to other homes in your area." It is also a good idea to blend with the nature around your home by choosing colors appropriately.

Check your interiors

In addition to exploring your neighborhood, you must also check your interiors and your exterior paint is what will set the narrative. To learn from your interiors, the tip Linda would give is, "It's nice to have a cohesive feel with the interior when it comes to an exterior color. If you have dark greens throughout your house then considering something in that family will make your exterior really feel homier."

In some cases, you may be able to see the exteriors from your indoors and you will not want the results on the whole to clash with each other. Therefore, choose the colors that will look fine from vantage point.

Test the swatches and go for a mockup

It is prudent to commit to an exterior color only after giving it a test run. IDCO Studio’s Anastasia Casey remarks, "Exterior paint colors often appear several shades lighter when applied to the entire house. Make sure to test paint swatches and check them throughout the day as the sun shifts."

It will be highly useful to create a mockup that will project your exterior paint before you actually paint the home exteriors. Lauren Sullivan of Well x Design explains, "Seeing everything together first in a small section makes it much easier to visualize and make adjustments—rather than after you've had your entire home painted in a color that doesn't quite work."

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destinyimage · 1 year

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Demon-Possessed Kid Tries to Steal God’s Glory, But Then...

You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:14–16).

In Matthew, we were instructed to put the lamp on a lampstand.

We aren’t to worship or crave the lampstand. No, we are to crave the light. We need the light. We can get so caught up in the lampstand, which is simply the thing that showcases the light, that we start worshiping the lampstand. The problem with making the lampstand the big thing is that it brings no light to the house. Your talent and your platform are just the stand that the light goes on. What people need is not one more performance, one more song, one more sermon, or one more book. What they need is for the light to be placed back on the stand to bring light to the entire house.

I learned this firsthand. My lampstand was the gift of creativity. I had done everything and then some. I tried every creative idea that my young mind could think of, yet all had failed. What I saw with my heart, and what I saw with my eyes were two different things. The journey of a pioneer, while it sounds romantic, is daunting. It’s full of upsets and frustrations as you trek on the road less traveled, or maybe even the one never traveled. If you can relate, hang in there. Keep moving forward. You’re not alone. I have hit many walls along this journey, and I’m sure I will hit many more. I have now found that it’s who you listen to at the wall that determines if you settle there or press on.

I hit a wall. It wasn’t the first time in ministry, but this time was different. I’ll never forget walking out to speak that night. I was ready to close worship, and as I looked at the crowd, I was disheartened. The room was filled with empty seats. and although a few leaders at the front of the stage were giving all their praise to God, the rest of the crowd looked uninterested, bored, or focused on something outside the room. I walked right back off the stage and went into my office. I burst into tears, full of anger and frustration. I had done everything I could imagine, yet I couldn’t grow this ministry. I longed to set it on fire like I’d seen in my dreams. Maybe I just wasn’t the guy. Maybe God got mixed up. I fell to my knees in my office and heard the drums beating through my wall. It felt as though I was beating on God’s chest. It took a minute, and then I heard God say as clear as day, “Are you done yet?” I cried out, “God, I am so done! I have nothing left. I can’t do this.” Then God said, “Good, this was the place I wanted you. Are you sure you’re done with all your big ideas, all your catchy phrases, all your clever sermons, all the ways it will work for you?” I screamed out, “God, I’m so done!” “Good,” He said. “Now I can begin. The first thing I want you to do is rip up your sermon. It’s not yours anyways.” He was right. I had gotten it online from one of my favorite preachers. I ripped up my sermon, and then God said, “When you go out to the mic, I’ll tell you what to say.” Well, this should be interesting, I thought.

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I walked back onto the stage with nothing in my mind to say. Sure enough when I grabbed the mic, words began to come out. The first thing God had me do was ask everyone who was sick in the room to come to the stage. After I said it, I thought, No big deal. This is youth ministry. There won’t be a bunch of sick kids. Boy, was I wrong. The whole stage was packed with kids I’d never seen before—one guy in a wheelchair, three with crutches, others just holding up a part that was in pain. I thought, Oh great. I didn’t know God was going to put me on the spot like this. However, the tables were turned, and He was challenging my faith to put Him on the spot. With my shallow faith, I turned to the first person. Good thing all it takes is a mustard seed to move mountains. With that, I began to pray. Never before and never since have I experienced something so supernatural. One by one, the teenagers began to get healed. As I prayed, the first guy just began yelling that his leg was hot. Instantly, I realized it was working. Sure enough, the miracle power of God was in the room. Every student on that stage was healed that night except for one, who I still pray for to this day.

Over 30 visible miracles took place that night. The whole room was on the edge of their seats. This was no longer business as usual. The Lord was doing miracles in our midst. The Bible came alive that night, and this one-dimensional Jesus became 3D. At the end of the night, I finished with a salvation call. There was no one in the room who didn’t want Jesus. That night we had church like the first church, full of life and celebration because the students had met a real Jesus.

As I walked off the stage, I heard God speak to me again. “Did you like that?” “Did I like that? That was incredible. I feel alive again.” “Good. I’m now in charge of your youth ministry. This week, instead of working, I want you to pray. You’re a workaholic so that should be a lot.” I thought, Are you kidding me, God? The bad news was He heard my thoughts and responded with “No, I’m not kidding. For 8 hours a day, some days 10, I want you to come into your office, shut the door, and cry out to Me.” I said, “God, how will I do that? They pay me to be the youth pastor here. What if someone finds out?” “You mean you’ll get in trouble spending time with Me?” “That’s not what I mean, God. What if someone wants a meeting with me? What if there’s a student leader or parent that needs counseling?” Then God said, “If anyone needs a meeting, ask them before the meeting, ‘Will you pray with me for an hour? If God answers your prayer during that time, then let’s cancel the meeting.’” Funny thing was that this did happen. However, every time, within thirty minutes the person would walk out of the room. Either they got their need met or they were tired of praying. Either way, it was much better. I don’t really like meetings anyway.

So, the next morning I walked into my office, turned on some music, and did exactly as God said. I’m not sure I had ever prayed that long in my life. About two hours in, I ran out of songs and requests, but that’s when the Holy Spirit began to minister to me in ways I cannot describe. It was almost as if He was doing delicate surgery on my heart. He began to heal every hurt, every fear, and every offense. I found myself repenting, forgiving, and being forgiven. One hour I was bawling my eyes out, the next I was rejoicing. Sometimes I just sat in silence. For the first time in my life, I was okay with silence. Typically, in the silence my mind would wander to all the things I had to do, but in these moments, God was giving me a new rest. The next day I did the same thing. No one asked about it, so I didn’t tell anyone. The day after, I did the same thing. By the time Wednesday of the next week rolled around, I didn’t have a sermon. That was okay with me, though, because the week before I didn’t seem to need one. I couldn’t wait for service to start. There was a new excitement in the air. The room was a little fuller than the week before. People were actually inviting their friends! It became a place where we expected God to show up and do miracles. It’s funny how that works. It’s so much better than flyers and social media campaigns.

I didn’t study to give a message that night, but as I opened my Bible, the words came alive. When it was time to close the message. everyone had their heads bowed and eyes closed. Abruptly, a young man got up from the middle of the crowd and started making his way toward the front of the stage. I thought, This is interesting. People are answering the altar call before I give it. He was not answering any kind of call from my message or the Jesus I preached. As the young man got closer, he looked up at me, and no joke, out of his face jumped the most demonic face I’d ever seen. It was like something out of a scary dream or a horror movie. Then the young man turned from me with an evil smirk and went back into the crowd. On his way out, he walked halfway down the aisle and grabbed a young lady out of her seat. He then violently attempted to drag her out of the room. You could tell by her face that she had no clue who this guy was or why he was pulling her out of the room. As she screamed hysterically, everyone in the room was frozen. No one tried to stop him. I closed my eyes and began to pray in the Spirit, and within seconds the young man let go of the girl and was at my feet. I was not sure how he got there so fast, but I didn’t care. He begged me to “stop praying like that.” You better believe I kept praying like that! In fact, I started praying louder, and this time, into the mic. The young man began to scream, and I put my hand on his forehead. What happened next was something out of a science-fiction movie. He was on his knees and dramatically flipped and slammed onto his back. I’m not kidding. He began to squirm around on the floor like a snake.

The whole room was silent as this battle between the preacher and demon-possessed student took place. No one moved. All eyes were focused on the young man and what I would do next. Then I heard a voice as clear as day say, “The enemy is trying to rob Me of My glory. He’s pulling the attention off of what I was about to do, to his agenda, fear. Don’t cast out this demon here. Send the boy to the back room.” I was relieved. I grabbed the first leader I could find. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him, “Alright, you’re up. Take him to the back room and cast this devil out of him.” As soon as the young man was dragged out by a few leaders, the room remained in a stunned hush. I then shared with the students what God had just told me and that He wanted to bring breakthrough to their lives. I reminded them that the battle between light and darkness is real and that the enemy did not want them to be free. I continued by telling them that the power of God is greater than any enemy that would walk into the room. That night, everyone got saved all over again. We ended on a high, and by the time we were done, the kid who had been squirming all over the floor was sitting upright in my office, not knowing what had happened. We led him in some further prayer for deliverance from alcohol and drugs, and then we led him in the sinner’s prayer. That night his life changed forever. Then I heard God say, “Did you like that?” I said, “No I didn’t, but I did like that You were with me.” Then God said, “I want you to pray another week.”

The next day, I came in and began to pray; about two hours in, I noticed it was darker outside my office than usual. I looked out of my window through my blinds, and I saw the lights in my secretary’s office were off as well, and I heard music coming from her cubicle. I peeked out of my door to find that my secretary was praying as well. I guess I couldn’t get mad at her for not working, so I left her alone. About midday, two more leaders had gathered with her, and by the end of the day, there were 10 people in the room crying out to God. The next day it happened again. Leaders just began to show up on their lunch breaks and after school. The offices that were once dead and boring, used for discussing budgets, problematic youth, and spreadsheets, were now being used to fill the halls of heaven with praise. When I first started this journey, I had no clue that this would go beyond me, but on the Wednesday night right before service, the group had built up to 100 students and leaders crying out to God in our offices.

Something shifted that week, and it impacted me and our youth ministry forever. There was a new life, a new joy, a new fire that none of us had ever felt before. Our youth ministry began to explode, without flyers or another cool event. Students just began to invite their friends. Within a week’s time, we were turning people away because we didn’t have room in the building. We started a second service, and that filled up as well. Then God put on my heart to ask our senior pastor if we could move to the main sanctuary, which held 2,500. It was the largest seated auditorium in all of Modesto, California, and God said, “I want to fill it.” I asked my senior pastor, and to my surprise there was a resounding yes. Then God put on my heart to prepare for 40 days for what He wanted to do. In response, we opened our first-ever youth prayer room in an abandoned classroom on campus, which we called “The Round Room.” For 40 days and 40 nights, leaders signed up to take hours on end to cry out for a generation to know Jesus. I’ll never forget the walls of that prayer room. There wasn’t an inch left without a name of an uncle or aunt, brother or sister, mom or dad. Both prayer requests and praise reports to God were etched into those walls. After 40 days and 40 nights, something started inside of us that was much bigger than any of us could imagine.

When we moved into the main sanctuary, we renamed our youth ministry “The Stadium.” The name had two meanings for us. First, it was in honor of the early Church believers, who were brought into stadiums in Rome to die for their faith. We would be brought into this stadium to die to ourselves and live for Christ. Secondly, we had a vision of stadiums being full of people worshipping God, and this was the beginning. The first night we opened The Stadium, around 700 students came; 300 of them were new. Many gave their lives to Jesus for the first time that night. From then on, the supernatural continued to take place weekly. We saw radical salvations and miracles. Students turned in tons of stuff after the services: gang rags, drugs, knives, you name it. One night we brought out a giant trash can and wrote “The Devil’s Trash Can” on it. Every week, teenagers and young adults threw things in there that they no longer needed in their new life with Jesus. This was it. This was what we had believed for. This was what we saw in our wildest dreams. The funny thing was that this was available to us the whole time. All we had to do was open the door. It felt as if we had unlocked something that could not be shut. We had found an important key in the Kingdom—prayer. God says, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (Matt. 16:18). If prayer changes things, then prayerlessness keeps things the way they are. Many are still waiting on God, but I tell you today God is waiting on you. He has given you the keys; it’s time we start using them.

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astra-nomy · 2 years

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ASTRA'S BEST ADVICE: a long post (summary at the bottom)

THE BEST ADVICE I CAN OFFER:

Stop learning and start applying. I cannot tell you how many months I spent scrolling through LOA websites and blogs, searching for that magical bit of advice that would everything suddenly click into place. Spoiler: you won't find it outside of yourself. There is no catch-all tidbit that will make everything fall into place for you. You have to persist. You have to affirm. You have to simplify the process for yourself. Find that magic inside of yourself. Have fun little conversations with your subconscious, identify your fears, and confront them head-on. It'll make you feel way better, and your manifestations will come way quicker. So start applying! Get off of tumblr and google and wherever the hell else and get out there! If you spend forever in the learning phase, you won't get to the doing (or teaching!) phase. You have to take what you know and apply it. You've studied for the test all you can, and now you're going to rock it! Take the test, pass with flying colors, and live your dream life. That's all up to you, babes.

Also! Simplify the hell out of whatever you're trying to do. For me, manifesting an SP was my Everest. I would affirm and persist and think about him from the perspective of already having what I want, but there would be no movement in the 3d. I was frustrated and angry and I couldn't possibly understand what I was doing wrong. Then, one day I decided to manifest something small: a turtle. As I was driving to school, I told myself that today, I would see a turtle somewhere. I didn't care if it was real or fake, a photo or a video, hell I probably would've taken a turtle sticker as my desire. I went through my first few classes and kinda forgot about it. I affirmed whenever I thought about it, but that was all. Right after first period, I went to meet with my advisory, and there was a turtle on the screen. The teacher in the class beforehand had been playing music for his class, and there was a turtle in the music video. When I tell you I stopped in my tracks and got full body chills, I mean it. The next day I manifested a red balloon. And then a purple jacket. I was on a roll, man. But every time I would try to manifest my SP, there would be absolutely no movement. I was overcomplicating the helllllll out of it. It took me forever to realize it, but manifesting an SP is the same as manifesting that turtle. I needed to stop treating this like it was the biggest thing ever. There aren't levels of hardness when it comes to manifesting. Manifesting a pebble is the same as manifesting an SP or your desired face. The only thing that changes during the process is how you feel about them. So I stopped being frustrated. I stopped playing the victim. I stopped being in a state of lack. I affirmed for my SP just as I had done the turtle. And guess what? Your girl's taken. And he's everything I ever could've dreamed of. Maybe even a little better.

As for shifting! You have to realize that you are in control. Stop hoping to shift, or acting like some divine intervention has to swoop in to let you shift. You are in control. You decide when and where you shift. It's as simple as that. I, at one point, was in a circle of try to shift - wake up in your CR - get upset. It was awful, and completely unnecessary. You have to realize that all the power is in your hands.

If you're where I was and you're kind of stuck in a "I don't think I can do this" mindset, and the idea of completely reversing that sound really daunting, you don't have to do that. Simply think of your favorite shifter, or just any person who has successfully shifted. Now I want you to adopt the mindset that "If they can do it, so can I." There is nothing about your mind that is different from that shifter. Whatever they can do, you can do it just as well. You have to realize that shifting is a different journey to the same end goal - but the end goal is the same. Everyone just has different ways of getting there. You can do it because other people have done it. Don't be envious or jealous of them, use it as fuel. If they can do it, so can I.

Lastly, don't restart every day. Let me explain: one day you decide you want to manifest your desired appearance, so you affirm and you visualize and you do whatever method (if any) that makes you happy. You wake up the next morning, see no change, and decide that today you're going to "start over." Please. For the love of God. Don't do that. If you wake up with a new attitude every day, you will run in circles. If you see something you don't like in the 3d, no you didn't. Affirm, and most importantly, persist. Know what you want is already yours. Don't let go of that first decision to manifest. Keep that fire going. Let it burn until you're living the life you deserve.

TOO LONG, DIDN'T READ: A SUMMARY

✮ Stop learning and start applying. get off of tumblr and go manifest. There is no one magical bit of information on the internet that will make everything click into place. You've got to find that magic in yourself. You've studied hard for the test babe, so go ace it.

✮ Simplify the hell out of whatever you're trying to manifest. Manifesting a pebble is the same as manifesting an SP or your desired face. The only thing that changes is how you feel. So why make things harder on yourself?

✮ Know that you are in control. Always. You are the one who decides when you shift. No divine figure has to do anything for you. You hold the power. Rest easy in that knowledge and decide. Shifting is as simple as blinking an eye and being somewhere else. But only if you believe it is.

✮ Adopt a "If they can do it, so can I" mindset. Don't waste your time trying to fabricate an entirely new mindset that you only half-believe in. Instead, think about your favorite shifter. Think about how easy shifting is for them. Now remind yourself: "If they can do it, so can I." And live that.

✮ Don't restart your progress every day. Persist. Don't wake up every morning and decide to "restart." If you see what you don't like in the 3d, affirm against what you see. Be delusional (trust me, it's fun). And, most importantly, persist! Don't be a manifesting goddess one day and the victim the next. Live that power. Live it until you see it.

CONCLUSION

Alright my little stars, that's it! This is the best advice I can offer you. Little baby shifter/manifestor me could've really used this information. No one explicitly told me any of this, I had to discover it myself. But really, that's what made it all the more valuable to me. I hope this helped you, and feel free to let me know if it did! My submissions, asks, and inbox are open! Have a lovely day stars <3

#law of assumption #reality shifting

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