#here's hoping it gets posted on a monday like its supposed to

[antstarion]

cough. starting to realise i really dont care about my dissertation. scared

#i was supposed to submit a draft before monday but like uh its just not done #been sick and still sick but it needs to be done #usually the panic would have set in by now and i would be able to force myself to sit and do it but. i am just sat here #i wrote about 100 words and i need to write at least 600 more (and actually fix my fucking algorithm but we dont talk about that) #but alas i dont care. I will care tomorrow (sunday) OR AT LEAST I HOPE SJDLFHSDKFJSDK #i think the one of the shittiest symptoms of my various Brain things is the lack of motivation #Because there are so many things i want to do but i simply cant do them #i was getting 90%-100% in EVERYTHING at uni until half way through my second year when i had a psychotic episode #now i average about 60% #this isnt bad and i will get my degree #but its not really what i went to university to do #anyways maybe if i wrote as many sentences as tags on this post i might finish my disseration tonight

[bethanydelleman]

Hi! Love your blog :) I saw your previous reply about Jane Austen and cognitive neuroscience and it reminded me of a question I have about Persuasion that still haunts me, which I can't seem to find a definitive answer for on the general internet. So after Louisa is injured, its like she undergoes a pretty massive personality shift, leading up to her falling in love with Captain Benwick etc. My question is, is that change (in your opinion) supposed to be a mental trauma reaction, or more of a physical trauma reaction? Like are we supposed to infer that the brain tissue injury changed her or is it more like, she was in mental shock and also an invalid with plenty of time to brood on her role in things and that's what resulted in her being in a state of mind to love some poetry & Benwick? I do wonder if the total personality change is temporary or permanent, because sometimes people who undergo near-death experiences often have mental trauma-based reactions including apparently 180 degree personality shifts, but those don't last and as they heal from the trauma, they become closer to their older selves. In Louisa's case that would make for an interesting dynamic in her married life with Benwick if she goes back to her earlier personality eventually.

I personally think Louisa and Benwick's marriage is the most questionable one in all of Austen's works! Forget age gaps, no one should be getting married a few months after major brain trauma... I mean unless they were already engaged... maybe.

These are the two quotes about Louisa after the injury that are important here:

She saw no reason against their being happy. Louisa had fine naval fervour to begin with, and they would soon grow more alike. He would gain cheerfulness, and she would learn to be an enthusiast for Scott and Lord Byron; nay, that was probably learnt already; of course they had fallen in love over poetry. The idea of Louisa Musgrove turned into a person of literary taste, and sentimental reflection was amusing, but she had no doubt of its being so. The day at Lyme, the fall from the Cobb, might influence her health, her nerves, her courage, her character to the end of her life, as thoroughly as it appeared to have influenced her fate.

and

He answered rather hesitatingly, “Yes, I believe I do; very much recovered; but she is altered; there is no running or jumping about, no laughing or dancing; it is quite different. If one happens only to shut the door a little hard, she starts and wriggles like a young dab-chick in the water; and Benwick sits at her elbow, reading verses, or whispering to her, all day long.” Anne could not help laughing. “That cannot be much to your taste, I know,” said she; “but I do believe him to be an excellent young man.” “To be sure he is. Nobody doubts it; and I hope you do not think I am so illiberal as to want every man to have the same objects and pleasures as myself. I have a great value for Benwick; and when one can but get him to talk, he has plenty to say. His reading has done him no harm, for he has fought as well as read. He is a brave fellow. I got more acquainted with him last Monday than ever I did before. We had a famous set-to at rat-hunting all the morning in my father’s great barns; and he played his part so well that I have liked him the better ever since.”

So firstly, Louisa was already into the navy and Wentworth, she has retained that interest. However, we will recall that Louisa's interest in the navy sprang to life in moments after meeting the handsome captain. But she's 19 years old, so sudden interests in things that a handsome guy likes are perfectly normal! I'm sure she's learned to appreciate poetry in all the time she had to be quiet and still.

Secondly, what Charles observes is likely lingering effects of brain trauma or what we might call post-concussion syndrome (Louisa had a worse injury than what is commonly called a concussion). Louisa's brain is still healing. She will probably begin to dance again at some point, depending on what damage is long lasting. This is the tricky thing with brains, permanent damage can be extremely varied. One person ends up with aphasia (trouble speaking), another with ataxia (trouble with muscle coordination), and a third with memory problems and so on. However, Louisa is young and her brain is still plastic (adaptable); hopefully she will recover completely without deficits.

Lastly, I included the part about Benwick being a great rat-hunter because we have to remember, he's not all poetry. He is in the navy, he is apparently competent to be promoted so early and we know he has a good fortune. He's a good guy, he's passionate, I'm sure he wants to make his wife happy.

So... I think they'll be fine. Louisa was going to mature no matter what, Benwick is a good person, and they will grow more alike. If not, navy wives weren't always able to travel with their husbands, so Benwick might be away for long periods of time and Louisa might be home with the kids.

But I still advise anyone to wait at least a year before marrying after a major brain trauma! (semi-expert advice, don't sue me)

#question response #jane austen #louisa musgrove #captain benwick #bad life decisions

[woonova]

꩜ ﾟ˖ CRUSH

◟﹙ 💌 ﹚lee heeseung ﹕ oneshot ﹙ @woonova ﹚

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  written to lovers rock by tv girl

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  genre fluff, highschool au, classmates to lovers?, mutual pining?

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  synopsis on your arrival to a new school you catch the eye of lee heeseung, who carries an unfamiliar emotion in his big brown eyes whenever he looks at you

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  warning none i think, please let me know if you find any!!

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  wc 1.4k

rin's notes ! this was actually a scrap i found while clearing out my drafts and its also one of the first works i wrote!! so enjoy ^_-

— tumblr’s algorithm works best with reblogging so plz consider reblogging and liking my posts ! —

00 | HEESEUNG STARED AHEAD OF HIM, all mentions of algebra by his professor falling deaf to his ears. His gaze, deeply rooted on the girl who sat before him. This is how it had always been ever since you were introduced to the class months ago.

It had been a chilly monday morning when Heeseung arrived to his first session, already dreading getting out of bed a few hours prior. Absentmindedly, he strolled to his desk hoping to get atleast a few more hours as rest time. Thats when he noticed the still teenager in front of him.

Head between your arms, covered by a beanie decorated with star charms and other accents, it was grey and just a few shades darker than your uniform skirt. Hands comfortably covered by the sleeves of your oversized white shirt, fingers clutched tightly to its' cuffs in your comatose state. Feet covered in black sneakers with white stars drawn on the side.

Heeseung had quickly become intrigued with the sight of a newcomer. And now it was a regular occurrence for him to be tapped by the teacher, whispered to by one of his friends, or recieve slight kicks under the desks in an attempt to get him to regain focus.

It didnt work, or maybe it did. He was focused, just not on finding the answers to unnecessary question, but on you. 

+

01 | "WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME?", a question that never seemed to stop crossing the tip of your tongue over the next few weeks. It was as if it was always supposed to be a thought and never meant to be uttered in fear of the response you may get in return. Fear? Why fear? When there was no reason to be afraid. In fact, you never really gave much thought towards the unmistakable glances being thrown your way on the daily, just passing it off on the fact that you were new. Everyone stares at the new kid right?

Well, that statement was partially correct. There was a short period in which you would receive looks from your classmates. Different days, different eyes filled with, confusion, interest, awkwardness, or just plain blank eyed stares. The last being the reason the aforementioned statement was only partially true.

Even after months of being apart of the school environment you still received these stares, except these eyes contained an emotion you weren't familiar with. Lee Heeseung, the culprit for your new found confusion regarding feelings the eyes could carry.

+

02 | STANDING IN FRONT OF THE LOCKER, Heeseung constantly rocked on his feet. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Like a loop of sorts. His eyes holding a similar movement, darting back and forth along the empty hallway. Clutching tightly to the envelope he held in hand he let out a quiet sigh contemplating if this was the right idea.

He wasnt sure how he ended up here. Standing in front of his crush's locker, whiteknuckling the slightly crumbled envelope, hoping you hadn't decided to leave gym class early. The only reminder being the faint memory of the short conversation he had with his older brother the previous night.

He heard the familiar sound of the school's bell, signifying there was only 10 more minutes left for the classes that were taking place, but nevermind that Heeseung thought, he had business to take care of — successfully planting the letter in your locker undetected and getting the hell out of there.    

But as faith would have it, you successfully spoiled Heeseung's plan.

Being let out from gym early had been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because now you had enough time to change and get your business done without being subjected to the suffocating mass of sweaty teenage girls aka the girls changing room. And a curse because everyone had seen you fall flat on your face earning yourself a bruised lip and a special escort to the nurses office to treat any other injuries.

It also had another advantage — if you could even call it that, spotting Lee Heeseung standing before your locker looking as happy as ever.

+

03 | HEESEUNG DID IT, today was the day. He had slipped his note into the locker with 5 minutes to spare. He had finally made a move and he was gonna be early to his next session. It was probably an overreaction but Heeseung felt as if he were on cloud nine, that was until he turned around and immediately felt his smile drop to a frown. At the thought of him being caught and the sight of the numerous bandages covering your skin.

There you were staring right up at him. Sharp eyes containing slight confusion, head titled slightly and fingers gripping the black bag strap that laid over your jacket covered shoulder. He wanted to ask if you were okay or hopefully get you to relay what had happend, but he kept quiet. Still a bit too shocked and embarrassed.

As he stood there, holding awkward eye contact, Heeseung wondered what he may have looked like to you in this very moment. Did you think he was a creep or a weirdo for messing with your locker? Would you now look at him differently? What would happen when you eventually saw the letter? Would you feel the same? Or would you reject him, leaving him a victim to heart ache? He felt like putting his long legs to use and getting the hell out of there, but he couldnt. Not when you were staring up at him with those pretty eyes he had longed to see.

There was no change in your expression as you slowly signalled for him to shift over so you could open your locker.

And even as you opened your locker — not missing the envelop that fell to the ground, you just continued with your business, not even batting an eye until you were finished and slowly bent down to pick it up. Running your fingers over it, feeling the material as it made contact with your fingertips you looked at heeseung unsure how to respond.

"You left this for me," you let out in the form of a small mumble, still surprised with the sudden attention you were receiving. Although, you tried not to show it.

"Uhh, yeah i was actually planning to you know, not be here when you found it," was the response you got, as you noticed the slight deflate of Heeseung's chest, as he let out a breath neither of you knew he was keeping in.

"Thank you," you returned in a breathy voice, suppressing a chuckle from how awkward this situation had become.

The bell had suddenly gone off again, signifying only a few more minutes till the hallway you stood in would be filled with impatient pupils, eagerly navigating the area to acquire a good seating for their next lesson.

"I think it's time we go now," Heeseung said catching your attention and subsequently stopping you from viewing the letter — which you unknowingly already managed to open, any further.

But unluckily for Heeseung you had read far enough, your eyes and mind stuck on a certain three word phrase, i like you.

"You..." you trailed off at the end realizing you didn't know what to say in response to these word.

Sure, you had developed a small liking towards the boy who stood before you. But to have said boy confessing his own feelings towards you in such a endearing manner had you lost for words.

"Look, it's okay if you dont feel the same, im sorr-"

"I like you too," you interrupted him, a new feeling of confidence surging through your veins.

You didnt receive a verbal response after this, though you did get a giddy smile from Heeseung, who was now decked in pink cheeks and wide bambi eyes that looked down at you with fondness. And you returned his smile in a similar flushed state, as you watched him slowly step away as the area got crowded, once again.

Call me he mouthed, his big grin fading into a small smirk. You gave him an unsure look but it was obvious he was already expecting this as he only pointed downwards — to the envelope you held in hand.

And surely enough, at the back of the crumpled envelope, hastily written in black ink was a number paired with a signature, Lee Heeseung's signature.

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  sponsors @hyfenet @k-labels @en-web

© https://...woonova | 2023

#🖇 . ࣪ my works ݁!⠀͡꒱ #hyfenet #k labels #en web #enhablr #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #enhypen oneshots #heeseung oneshots #enhypen fluff #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fluff #heeseung drabbles #heeseung imagines #heeseung ff #enhypen fanfiction

[simmerianne93]

I'm participating in Simblreen 2023

ENGLISH:

Hello everyone!! How are you today??

Simblreen2023 is here!!!

I was supposed to make this post last monday, but I have being working non stop on all the gifts that I will be giving in the event with none time to make the post.

As you can read, I'll be participating this year and I'm really excited 'cause I have a lot of gifts for you all: Action poses, Fantasy poses, Halloween "family and friends" poses... I have done all kind of poses for all kind of players and I hope you all like them.

As last year, I'll be doing a small dynamic: A treasure hunter!!

I'll be hidding some candies 🍬🍭🍫 on my tumblr in some posts each day of simblreen (Saturday 21st, Sunday 22nd, Saturday 28th and Sunday 29th) and you guys will have to look for them to get your gifts while my porchlight is ON.

Once you find these candies, click on them and these candies will guide you to the link of your precious gifts.

There are three different types of candies in the two posts that you have to find per day, each candy will guide you to the hosting site you prefer:

🍬 Mediafire.

🍭 Simfileshare.

🍫 Google drive.

As I have just said, there will be TWO hunts per day, as long as my porch light is on (I'll do a separate post to let everyone know when I turn my light on and off, so you know what times the hunt will be active).

And you will also be able to participate in the "witching hour" (on Friday 20th and Friday 27th) which, as its title says, will be one hour on that days where you will find 2 more gifts. [If you miss the witching hour on Friday 20th, you'll have the chance to participate again next Friday 27th for the same two gifts].

So there are a total of 10 gifts for you this year.

I will be publishing all the gifts, in case you missed any, after the event ends but I'll be happy if you participate (after all, you will be able to use the poses before anyone else 😏).

SIMBLREEN GIFTS are and always will be free as the gift they are.

To recap:

The candies (🍬🍭🍫) will be hidding around my tumblr in 2 diferent random posts.

Week 1:

October 20 (Friday): Witching hour (2 gift in 1 hour).✅

October 21 (Saturday): 2 other gifts while my porchlight is on.✅

October 22 (Sunday): 2 more gifts while my porchlight is on. (MOVED TO WEEK 2)

Week 2:

October 27 (Friday): Witching hour (2 gift in 1 hour). If you didn't find the gifts on the 20th, you still have another chance to find them in this day.

October 28 (Saturday): 2 3 other gifts while my porchlight is on.

October 29 (Sunday): 2 3 more gifts while my porchlight is on.

OCTOBER 31st: WITCHING HOUR with all the gifts, for you to find the ones you have missed, before I share them all in the next days calmly.

After the event ends, you'll have the gifts you've missed in my Patreon and Tumblr FOR FREE!.

Total number of gifts: 10.

Go for it!!

You can know more about Simblreen here.

--------------------

ESPAÑOL:

Hola a todos!! ¿Cómo están?

¡¡Simblree2023 ha llegado!!

Se supone que haría este post el lunes, a principio de semana, pero he estado trabajando sin parar en todos los regalos que traeré para ustedes en el evento y no he tenido tiempo para escribir el post hasta ahora.

 Como pueden leer, estaré participando este año y estoy muy emocionada porque tengo muchos y variados regalos para todos: Poses de acción, poses de fantasía, poses de Halloween "familiares y amistosas"... he intentado abarcar toda clase de poses para toda clase de jugadores (Obviamente manteniendo la temática halloweenesca) y de todo corazón espero que a todos les gusten.

Tal como el año pasado, estaré haciendo una pequeña dinámica: una búsqueda del tesoro.

Estaré escondiendo algunos caramelos 🍬🍭🍫 en mi página de tumblr en algunos posts cada día del simblreen (Sábado 21, Domingo 22, Sábado 28 y Domingo 29) y ustedes tendrán que buscarlos para conseguir sus regalos mientras la luz de mi "linterna" esté encendida.

Una vez encuentren los caramelos, tendrán que darle click a alguno de ellos y los caramelos los guiarán al link que contiene su regalo.

Hay tres diferentes tipos de dulces en los dos posts que tienen que conseguir por día, cada caramelo les llevará a la página que ustedes prefieran para descargar:

🍬 Mediafire.

🍭 Simfileshare.

🍫 Google drive.

Como acabo de decir, habrán DOS cacerías por día, mientras mi "lampara" esté encendida (Haré un post separado avisando cuando encienda o apague la luz, de manera que puedan saber cuándo tengo activa la cacería).

Y también estaré haciendo una "HORA DE LAS BRUJAS" (los días Viernes 20 y Viernes 27) que, como su nombre indica, será UNA hora en esos días donde podrán encontrar 2 regalos más. [Si por casualidad te perdiste la hora de las brujas el Viernes 20, tendrás oportunidad de participar de nuevo el Viernes 27 por los mismos dos regalos].

Por lo tanto hay un total de 10 regalos para todos este año.

Estaré publicando los regalos, en caso de que te perdieras alguno, luego de que el evento termine, pero estaré muy feliz si participan en la actividad (después de todo, serán capaces de utilizar las poses antes que nadie más 😏).

LOS REGALOS DE SIMBLREEN son y siempre serán gratis para todos, como los regalos que son. 

Recapitulando:

Los caramelos (🍬🍭🍫) estarán escondidos en mi tumblr en 2 posts diferentes. 

Semana 1:

Octubre 20 (Viernes): HORA DE LAS BRUJAS (2 regalos en 1 hora).✅

Octubre 21 (Sábado): otros 2 regalos mientras mi "linterna" esté encendida.✅

Octubre 22 (Domingo): 2 regalos más, mientras mi "linterna" esté encendida. (MOVIDOS A LA SEMANA 2)

Semana 2:

Octubre 27 (Viernes): HORA DE LAS BRUJAS (2 regalos en 1 hora). Si no pudiste encontrar los regalos el día 20, tienes otra oportunidad de encontrarlos este día.

Octubre 28 (Sábado): otros 2 3 regalos mientras mi "linterna" esté encendida.

Octubre 29 (Domingo): 2 3 regalos más, mientras mi "linterna" esté encendida.

Octubre 31 (Martes): HORA DE LAS BRUJAS con todos los regalos para que consigas los que no hayas encontrado, antes de compartirlos con calma en los días siguientes.

Después de que el evento acabe, podrás conseguir los regalos que no hayas encontrado en mi Patreon o en mi Tumblr, ¡GRATIS!

Número total de regalos: 10.

A por ello!!

Puedes enterarte bien de lo que es Simblreen aquí.

--------------------

@simblreenofficial

#simblreen #simblreen2023 #simblreen participant #simblreen 2023 #ts4 #poses #simmerianne93 #sims4poses #thesims4 #posesforsims #sims4 #thesims #creator content #ts4poses #thesims4poses

[wcbweblog]

WELCOME!

WHAT IS ‘WHAT COULD BE WORTH ETERNITY,?

What Could Be Worth Eternity?, or wcbwe for short, is an art/storytelling project of mine! I currently have a comic (very early stage) in-the-works, as well as some writing and other art pieces. In short, wcbwe is what I call the original universe that holds a number of stories and characters I want to share!

OH, SO THIS BLOG IS FOR THAT COMIC?

………not exactly, unfortunately. The comic is still very early in its production, and as the only person working on it, progress is slow going. I think taking the extra time will be worth it in the end, but I’m biased lol. As it stands, this blog is not specifically for the comic in the works, but when I am ready to start posting pages, this is where it’ll happen!

…ALRIGHT. THEN WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS BLOG? WHY THE COUNTDOWN, IF THE BIG PROJECT ISN’T GOING TO BE READY FOR A WHILE?

Wait, countdown? For anyone who doesn’t know, for about two months, I was doing a… daily, countdown on my main blog, and it ended today, 2023.08.28, the day this blog goes up.

To be honest – the countdown wasn’t for this. In fact I’m writing out this lil intro post the day it’s supposed to go up while at work haha! I am incredibly unprepared. The countdown was to something at work (that never ended up happening, to my knowledge), I think we were supposed to do some sort of… media blackout? Like I said, it didn’t happen, so it doesn’t really matter. But, well, a couple of my moots saw the countdown and got curious, and I thought ‘well I should do something on tumblr, too!’. So here we are. Art blog! Yup, this is an art (and sometimes writing) blog centered around the wcbwe universe. Right now the plan is to update every Monday, but that’s subject to change because I have no clue what my uni schedule is yet XD

YEAH YEAH COOL. GO BACK TO THAT COMIC FOR A MINUTE?

Ah yes. The comic. My pride and joy, should I actually manage to stick with the project. Like I said, it’s still very early in its production; only the prologue and first chapter have been scripted, and only half the prologue has been storyboarded. And it’s going to be a very long comic, so that’s not a lot. I’d prefer to have the whole thing, or almost the whole thing, storyboarded before I start making pages. If you want an estimate? I’d say it’ll be about a year or more before I can start posting pages.

OKAY, SO IF YOU WEREN’T PREPARED TO START THIS BLOG, WHY DO IT?

Well, there’s no time like the present! I need somewhere to organize my thoughts and concepts for the universe, story, and characters, and I’m hoping having a dedicated blog might motivate me to sort out my ideas haha.

*INSERT FANCY LIL PROGRESS BAR HERE*

Wow! What was the progress again? Not to worry! I’ll keep the progress updated here :]

scripted up to chapter 4

21/? pages storyboarded

0/? pages completed

IF THIS IS AN ART BLOG, WHAT KIND OF ART WILL YOU BE POSTING?

In short, anything wcbwe related! Digital art, traditional art, short writing things, animations, concept art, storyboard sketches, etc. etc. Anything I make that has to do with the wcbwe universe will end up on here eventually! Not all of it will be Quality Art TM lol

ALRIGHT, BUT WHAT’S THE STORY ABOUT?

I don’t want to get too into spoilers, especially since I don’t have most of the plot ironed out yet. Up until the comic’s production is further along, the main focus here will be on worldbuilding and designs. With that said – you might be able to put together pieces of the plot with the art provided! I’ve got a couple big pieces coming up that have some kinda major spoilers. I just don’t want to actually talk about the plot things until I know what I’m doing. With that in mind, some art might end up getting retconned in the final production. Though, there’ll be a liiiiiiiitle plot sneak peak at the end of this post. Very small :p (it comes with art!)

ASKS ARE WELCOME!

Idk haha, if you’ve got anything to say, or any questions, drop an ask! It might take me some time to answer or I might want to save it for whatever reason, but I’ll answer eventually! Oh – asks are exempt from the Monday Updates btw! I’ll answer them whenever I answer them :3

…oh yeah I should probably mention. C a t s. (also tags are in the. tags-)

Without further ado – welcome to What Could Be Worth Eternity? Let’s dive in.

.

..

…

….

…..

……

………

……

.....

….

..

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Arceli dies.

And then she doesn’t.

#wcbwe #wcbwe art #wcbwe writing

[goldenpinof]

so they* failed to sell distribution rights and this recording is presumably being paid for by ticket sales, merch, and more than likely personal wealth. he says they're still hoping to sell the finished product but presumably if they're unable to strike a deal he either releases it for free or sets up the infrastructure for purchase through his own site. this seems like a hell of a risk, it kind of puts some of the decisions they've been making into perspective for me.

*i'm aware the word 'they' is doing a LOT of work here i work in the music industry and clearly distribution works very differently in this context i guess i just mean management idk

are you summarising what i said or are you coming to your own conclusions? (genuine question because i'm scared to misinform you or anyone else.) what i said wasn't facts, per se. i just think those were the problems with wad dvd* based on what Dan has told us (which wasn't much) and some small info i got this autumn regarding Dan's managers trying to sell the rights to the wad movie.

if he says "they will try" then they haven't succeed yet. wad dvd is out there, unfinished. that's the correlation.

anyways, everything is alleged, lol.

idk who is paying for the filming and the editing processes. i'm not even sure what Mark's role is. 2 weeks ago i asked him if he was gonna photograph the shows. he said he wasn't sure yet (paraphrasing here). now he is using the word "filming". and he is skilled to film the shows, or to at least participate in the filming process even as a director. so it's very possible there's a team of people from everywhere (opposite to one company who funds the process and distributes the final product). i wonder who filmed this promo clip (i don't see any credits, which is strange). Mark was in London recently (this weekend or on Monday. and now he posted a pic from the venue). was the promo clip filmed this weekend? i'd love to know.

sidenote: i don't remember how ii was filmed in LA. at what point was it clear that BBC owns it? before the filming or after? does anyone know?

is it possible that Kiswe is involved in the filming or editing processes? financially, i mean (in general, they do production). they are giving Dan a platform and they are buying the rights to stream the show exclusively. i suppose, they are getting a cut from the ticket sales. but are they involved in the process of making what is gonna be streamed? i'm literally clueless. they are letting go of the rights afterwards, it seems, so how much are they contributing at all? so many dumb questions at 3am, so little answers.

anyway. managers. poor job so far. and i'm not even talking about the ability to sell wad's rights. bros are sloppy in general. i'm 90% sure UTA got him the deal with Kiswe. but InterTalent was trying to sell the rights as well. unsuccessfully.

infrastructure for purchase through Dan's website isn't that bad. you could buy ii dvd from dnpshop. but that wasn't the only place. manufacture (physical), distribution, promo — all of that would be hard to do on its own. and irl digital doesn't even ship to every country (irl digital would fucking die being the only place for ordering). digital copies should be easier but they have their own problems probably.

*wad dvd = anything that comes out after filming

#i'm done. my head is so heavy #no thoughts head empty #wad dvd #inter talent #uta #wad premiere #answered

[hermionegalathynius]

Sweet Sixteen (2/11)

Second chapter, lets go!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: not any that I can think of.

Sirius Black Masterlist

Main Masterlist

First Chapter

Next Chapter

The library was even quieter on Saturdays. 

  Y/n suspected it was because no one ever felt like doing school work on the weekends, even though it was statistically the most efficient time to get stuff done. That was why she was getting stuff done. The past week had been... busy, to say the least. She had five essays due on Monday, two of which had to be a maximum of ten inches. Along with that she also had to draw up two charts for Astronomy and learn how to do Expelliarmus non-verbally by Tuesday. It was a lot, but she was used to it. In fact, she welcomed it. Academics had always been her strong point, and she intended to keep it that way.

  "How would you describe Golpalotte's Third Law?" she mused to Remus, her usual study partner when he wasn't off galavanting with his friends.

  He looked up from his own Potions paper, brown hair unusually messy from running his hands through it, "Well, Golpalotte said that the antidote to a blended poison isn't simply the antidotes to all the separate poisons in the blend mixed together. Instead you must find that one ingredient that will transform the poisons in to a combined whole, which will counteract the entire blended potion. As the textbook states, the true antidote to a blended poison is more than the sum of its parts."

  Y/n smiled at him bemused, "I was trying to find a way to put it quote-unquote 'in my own words', but you've just recited the textbook."

  Remus's cheeks went a little pink as he glared playfully at her, "Doesn't knowing that what I said is how it's written in the textbook also a sign that you know that paragraph as well as I do?"

  Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, "Well done Sherlock. 10/10 detective work, I must say." 

  He chuckled softly and the two of you went back to work. 

———

  Sirius yawned contently as he trudged up the stairs to the boys dormitory with James still chatting on excitedly behind him. 

  "... didn't even glare at me today, Pads! Not once! Maybe she's starting to fall for my Potter charm?" That last sentence he said with a cocky smirk on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows. Of course, Sirius wasn't looking at the time, but he knew his friend well enough to be able to guess. 

  He snorted, "Yeah right, Prongs. That's as likely as Dumbledore getting a girlfriend."

  James punched him in the shoulder playfully, "Oi! Don't knock my hopes down! Especially when you might be in the same position as me very soon."

  Sirius paused in front of the door into their dorm, "What's that supposed to mean?"

  James strode past him, patting him on the shoulder, "I mean, your soulmate is the one girl in this school who doesn't swoon at your mere presence. She is also the one girl who you've never dared to try to charm because she makes you nervous."

  Sirius glared at him, "Thanks for the reminder."

  "Hey, I'm only stating it as I see it. You gotta admit it's a little ironic, mate. I mean, she's Y/n L/n, top of our year and the most Ravenclaw Ravenclaw I've ever seen. And you... well, do you get my point?"

  Sirius sighed and flopped onto his bed, throwing an arm over his face, "Yes, I get your bloody point Prongs. Did it not occur to you that I've probably been thinking the same thing ever since I got her bloody name on my bloody wrist?" 

  James chuckled, "Alright, relax. I get it. You don't want to be reminded of the irony of your situation. I'll just sit here looking pretty then."

  Sirius rolled his eyes even though James couldn't see them. His friend really was the most dramatic person he knew. 

  Then, as if to break Sirius out of his spiralling thoughts, an owl tapped on the window.

  Sirius took his arm off of his eyes and sat up as James walked over to the window to let the bird in. 

  "That's odd," he said as he twisted the latch on the window, "We've never received post in our dorm before."

  The owl flew straight to Sirius and perched on his bedside table, sticking out it's leg. Sirius quickly untied the letter from the bird's leg and gave it a little scratch behind the head as a thanks before it flew off again. 

  "Who's it from?" James asked.

  "How am I supposed to know? I haven't opened it yet!"

  "Then open it!"

  "What do you think I'm doing?" 

  Sirius shook his head in exasperation as he broke the seal and pulled the piece of parchment out. The writing was small and neat, looking as if one of those muggle pinter things had made it. 

  Dear Mr Black

  I would like to inform you that due to our conversation being cut short, I have taken your silence as agreement to go ahead with the tutoring sessions. Miss L/n has also been contacted and will be expecting you in the Library every Wednesday afternoon at 3 o'clock to dinner and every Sunday morning from 10 o'clock to 1pm. If you have any problem with the times of your sessions, please send me a letter explaining when you are free. 

  Sincerely, Professor Sikander

  Sirius swallowed, his gut clenching. Not only was Y/n L/n his soulmate, but she was also supposed to be his tutor?

  It was going to be a long year...

  ———

  "Why do I have to tutor him, Sienna? The last time I spoke to him was in first year when I apologised for bumping into him on the train and he tried to flirt with me." Y/n complained as she got ready for bed that evening. 

  She had left the library at closing time after having spent the whole day there finishing all five essays and two charts, so she was knackered and in no mood for the letter she received upon arrival back in Ravenclaw Tower. 

  Sienna shrugged, "I don't know. But what I do know is he's cute and every single girl in this school would kill to trade places with you."

  She wiggled her eyebrows at Y/n who grumbled, "They don’t need to kill anyone, I'd trade places with them in a heart beat if I could."

  Her friend rolled her eyes, "Come on, Y/n. It can't be that bad? It's not like you have to socialise with him. You only have to teach him."

  Y/n climbed into bed and gave her friend a small smile, "You're right, as usual. I'll survive. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight."

Tag list:

@obscurilicious

@hphufflefan

#sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius orion black #sirius black #hogwarts #hp fandom #ravenclaw #ravenclaw reader #james potter #remus lupin #moony #wormtail #padfoot #Prongs #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #fanfictions

[ultimatebabygirlsupremebattle]

Alright, here's where we're at everybody!

The left bracket semifinals featuring @probably-not-a-rutabaga and @less-depresso-more-espresso will be posted at the usual time next week!

The 'Biggest nerd' mini tournament will be posted next Saturday (Eastern Standard Time) as usual, unfortunately this time we can't allow last second submissions, as we're trying to lessen our stress right now, but we're hoping that any interested participants were preparing based on the calendar and made a start on their submissions over the last week, when the 'Biggest nerd' submissions were originally supposed to be open

As for the right bracket semifinals (which will be posted the week after as always), instead of following up via DMs like before we figured we'd just ask here, @avidlylivid @cpunkhobie @glitter-alienzzz @teenagemutanttransgenderturtles, have you all thought up a team name yet? (Its fine if not, there are a lot of you and we haven't properly asked yet, but try to come up with one before your semifinals!)

Anyone interested in a more personal update can look below the read more! (Warning for descriptions of oral surgery and recovery, for those who didn't know. It does get detailed because we ramble a lot.)

So! Surprise surgery! It was definitely a lot, we were on a two year waiting list to have all of our wisdom teeth removed at a hospital closer to the city (we're hella rural, we're lucky we have a hospital at all, but no specialists actually live here), but on Monday morning last week we got a call saying the person who was going to be operated on by the once-a-year visiting specialist cancelled at the last second, so that day we went to the hospital and went over the details of the surgery, and then we were told it was going to happen the next day. We still could have turned it down, but it was a crazy opportunity because the two year wait would be removed, and we would get to have the surgery done in our home town (travel is intense on us, and the original hospital is 6 hours away). So we agreed (with no real chance to communicate inwardly about it, a lot of us are rightfully upset about the lack of warning and preparation time).

(Extra space for app notification users, since opening via notification automatically opens the readmore)

The surgery itself went well, general anaesthesia isn't as bad as we thought it would be, we didn't even stay awake long enough for the "count down from 10" thing you see in movies and shows, and next thing we knew there were nurses in front of us asking if we wanted water or anything.

The problems came (and are still coming) after. We have a sensory based eating disorder (ARFID, to be specific), and impulsively having oral surgery done (in the mouth, where an insane amount of senses are) kinda is making life impossible. We went to the ER the day after our surgery because nausea was messing us up real bad, but when on nausea meds and plenty of painkillers food just....its really rough. Obviously solids are out of the question (even now when we're starting to get out of the danger zone), but that leaves liquids and.....have you ever noticed how liquids are only ever sweet? Sweet is not our preferred taste. With the way our ARFID is, our body's way of rejecting food is our throat closing up and just straight up not letting anything go down, so forcing ourselves to eat is physically impossible. Its the end of the day, as we're typing this, and all we've managed to eat is a cup of yoghurt and a little bit of jelly. Its been really bad.

On top of all this, we can barely sleep, the limited ways we can lay down make getting comfortable really rough, and when we do eventually fall asleep we wake up a few hours later because the pain meds are wearing off. We do best at 10 hours of sleep a day, and we're only getting 6 right now. This and the lack of food leaves us bedridden, the medical issues we already have aren't happy with us.

Its hard to say how well we're healing up, we're too squeamish to actually look, but there's been minor outside improvements like the level of pain when the meds wear off and how wide we can open our mouth (swallowing is also pain free now), so we're not too concerned. Still really want a follow up appointment with the dentist soon.

We've been getting a lot of help from our support worker with everything, we normally don't rely on her too heavily but its definitely been needed, and might still be needed for a while even as recovery starts to speed up because there is definitely going to be recovery time from this recovery.

Do we regret it? Sometimes, but this surgery would have had to happen eventually anyway, and under more taxing conditions too. We're trying to keep that fact in mind as much as possible.

Still, we're never agreeing to next-day surgery again.

....maybe.

.........it depends on if it saves us from travelling for the surgery.

[acidmatze]

I’ll be there for you (Yes, like the Friends theme) Chapter 5

Summary: After being in a coma for two years Vash wakes up, not being able to remember Anything that has happened since he was “a teenager”. How is he gonna adapt to living in a world so strange and unfamilliar? (vaguely TriStamp timeline post ep 12) By finally leaving the hospital and entering his Rehab arc Warnings: None this time Word count: 4.4k Chapters: 1 2 3 4

How did this week pass by so fast?

Vash feels like it was basically yesterday that he woke up to this strange world.

And now he's already standing outside, Karina next to him, waiting for the van that's supposed to bring him to the rehab place.

He's bringing several bags with him. Two of them filled with the new clothes he got the other day.

It is still somewhat dark outside, the suns barely grazing the horizon so its also really cold. Vash can see his breath when breathing out.

He's wearing his new jacket. It's black with red arrows going zig zag from the top left to the bottom right.

One small bag is full of his electronics stuff.

Last Friday Karina suddenly brought him a phone as well.

And another one is filled with hygiene stuff like shower gel and shampoo and towels and lotion to put on his scars when they ache and of course toothbrush and toothpaste and other necessities.

His new meds are in there as well.

On Thursday Dr. Nichols did a whole battery of tests with him.

Among other things testing his working memory and attention.

He then concluded that Vash has ADHD, whatever that was. From what Vash gathered it has to do with his focus and emotional regulation and such.

Vash also spend a lot of time filling out official-looking papers to get an ID and everything sorted out. And a bank account.

„Its so cold... I hope that van is coming soon.“ Karina complains while rubbing her arms.

„Its gonna get hot soon enough, just wait.“

„I'd rather not Wait.“

Other cars are approaching and picking people up or letting people out near constantly. Seems like Mondays are very busy for hospitals.

An ambulance rushes past, sirens blaring.

„I'm gonna call the place if no one's here in 5 minutes!“ Karina declares.

Then a small white minivan drives up to the two and stops.

It would look suspicious if it wasn't for the sticker on the car with a flock of pigeons flying on it, reading „Dove's Wings bus service, car 12“

The driver lets the window down.

„Hey, are you Vash?“

„Yup, that's me.“

The engine stops and the driver gets out to open the trunk.

„I'm Marcel. Put your bags in here. Before I drive you to the dorm I have to stop by the gas station real quick, hope you don't mind.“

„That's fine...“

It's a bit cumbersome to haul the heavy bags into the trunk with only one hand.

Luckily Marcel realises this quickly and helps.

He's a short rather gruff-looking guy with a light buzzcut and pale skin. Vash easily towers over him.

Which is still a really weird experience.

After all, the majority of his Lived Experience Vash was shorter than others.

Even as a teenager everyone else was much taller than him. When did he hit such a giant growth spurt?

Vash climbs into the van next to Marcel.

Karina waves at Vash.

„I will call you in the afternoon when my shift is over, okay? And I will definitely visit you on the weekend. You can't get rid of me.“

Vash chuckles weakly and also waves at his new friend.

„Girlfriend?“

Vash whips around.

„Huh? What-? No! Just a.. a regular friend.“

„Cool, cool.“

Marcel starts the motor and off they go.

Then he turns the radio on.

Vash has no idea about music much, even though Karina did her best to introduce him to as many bands as she could. He does vaguely recognise the singer as someone Karina likes.

Its a nice unoffending voice with nice unoffending guitar. Nothing that Vash would listen to in his free time though.

Then Marcel lights up a cigarette and offers the cigarette pack to Vash.

„Do you smoke?“ „Uh.. no, thanks.“

„Good for you. Don't start. Its a waste of money. How old are you?“

„153.“

Marcel barks out a laugh.

„Good joke!“

„28 then.“

„Seriously? You don't look a day over 19 or something. You got a serious case of baby face, my guy.“

„Yeah... I've heard that quite often.“ Vash lies.

He hasn't heard it at all but feels like this is the appropriate response.

They are driving through what seems to be the oldest dictrict of the city.

It seems to be emulating ancient 17th century central european architecture but Vash can't say how accurate it is.

Shops on the ground floor, apartments on top all crammed next to each other.

And so many people outside already, even though it is still early in the day.

„It's not winter yet so school and work still start at 6, so most of the work can be crammed in before it gets hot.“ Marcel explains, as if he can read Vash's thoughts.

„And in winter?“

„Eh... 7-8ish. No mid-day break either but instead everyone can go home earlier overall. Allegedly on Earth seasons actually meant something in many cultures but here it only tells you when the suns will rise and set. Except for fall. If it rains then it rains in fall.“

Rain.

Vash only has seen rain once so far in his life.

He was so excited he immediately ran outside and Brad dragged him back inside the ship and scolded him for getting the floor muddy.

It rained hard for maybe half an hour and then it was over. Within an hour the sand was back to its usual dry and hot state and everything carried on as if it hadn't rained at all.

What Vash had witnessed relatively often though were dry thunderstorms.

Now the scenery is changing.

The road gets broader and now has two lanes in each direction. The buildings become more modern and brighter, to deflect the suns.

Then they turn right into a smaller street again, probably now entering a more residential area.

The buildings that previously were all at least three to four stories tall are now getting smaller and less dense. Small shops line the road here and there.

Apartment buildings turn into row houses and then slowly into small family homes.

They pass a small park and Vash stares at the large lusciously green trees.

Then more houses. Kids waiting at a bus stop.

It's so weird to see a place like this. So full of life. Full of people doing their thing.

Not hanging by a thread.

They enter a slightly wider road again and a little later Marcel stops at the gas station.

„I'll be back in a minute. You want some snacks? I can get you some.“

„Uh... some chocolate bars? But no white chocolate or coconut.“

Marcel lets out a small grunt in acknowledgement.

„Alright. You get the kiddie chocolate.“

The van door slams shut.

Kiddie chocolate...

Vash watches Marcel while he recharges the car's battery. Its weird that „gas station“ is a word that's still so widely used even though almost no vehicle on this planet uses gas.

Its most likely a leftover from Earth English.

Vash watches the scene outside.

Some more kids and teens, probably on their way to school.

People on bicycles. Many many cars.

It is still so weird to Vash to see this many people in one place. He can't imagine the scope of the entire city.

What little distance they have covered so far already feels incredibly large to him.

Do the people who live here even know how harsh the desert is? Being here is so incredibly different from the ship.

Vash can barely believe he's still on the same planet.

Has Nai ever been in a city as well? Where even is he now? And will Vash ever see him again?

Well, he probably already has but can't remember.

But before he has the time to ponder about this more, Marcel returns.

He dumps a few chocolate bars in Vash's lap.

„Sorry they only had coconut and white chocolate.“

For the fraction of a second Vash is inclined to believe the man but before he can embarrass himself he realises it's a joke.

„Guess I have to puke all over the van then.“

„If you clean it, be my guest.“

The ride continues in silence, except for the radio.

Vash opens the packaging of the chocolate and starts eating.

He didn't eat anything at the hospital this morning, he was way too nervous.

Its nougat, the chocolate.

Which is good because Vash really likes that. He opens the second bar and basically shoves it in his mouth with one go.

Marcel lets out a snort but doesn't say anything.

„I haven't eaten anything yet.“

„I'm not judging. Just laughing. You don't behave like an adult.“

There it is.

Vash almost shrinks into his seat.

Then how is an adult supposed to to behave? He hasn't figured that out yet.

He was about to open the third bar but lets it drop back into his lap instead. Suddenly he doesn't feel hungry anymore.

There's no way he's gonna fit in anywhere like this.

But it's not like he can help it, dammit!

Some part of him is still 15 and it will probably take a long time until that changes.

„Hey kiddo, why are you crying?“

Huh?

Vash pulls out a tissue from his pocket and blows his nose.

„I don't like being told that I don't behave like an adult. I know I don't. I can't change this.“

Marcel nods.

„I wasn't making fun of you, you know? If I would then i would have the wrong job. I drive people around who can't get into this van without help. Who can't fasten their seatbelt. Whose pants i have to pull up before they get in cuz they don't know how to use their belts after going to the bathroom. Who don't even realise when they need to go to the bathroom so sometimes they pee their pants during the ride. I also drive people around who don't talk. Who talk too much. Who talk a whole lot but not very well. Who say the same word over and over. I'm not judging anyone. My ego isn't blown up like that.“

„Will I meet them?“

„Eventually I suppose. But you're mentally ill so you live in a different section of the grounds. You'll meet them at work then. I also drive people like you around. Plenty.“

Vash can't imagine people like this. Luckily soon he wont have to use his imagination anymore but will experience it in real life.

They are back in a residential area. Small apartments and houses everywhere.

„We're there in a second. Look here's the convenience store. You wont have to walk far to get there. Just down this road. There's a bus stop. That line will take you directly to the old town, where we started out. Maybe not the most exciting part of the city but there are many nice small shops and cafés. And the biggest cinema in the city is there as well, in case you like movies. I think your group will go there from time to time.“

They make another right turn and Vash recognises this street from the photos.

They have indeed arrived.

Marcel parks under a tree in front of a wide two story tall red brick building.

There is a dark-skinned woman with glasses and long black hair waiting outside.

Vash and Marcel get out the van and Marcel shakes the woman's hand.

„Morning Nancy.“

„Good morning Marcel. I see you brought our new resident?“

„Yeah, that's Vash. Vash, that's Nancy.“ Nancy walks towards Vash and eagerly shakes his hand as well.

„Hi, I'm Nancy. I'm the leader of the group you will live in. Everyone will be so happy to meet you. Two weeks ago half of the group moved out into a different dorm and since then it has been way too quiet. Let me help you with your bags.“

The bags, that Marcel unloaded in the meantime.

He nods at Nancy.

„Well then. You got everything under control here. I'll go then and pick up the daycare patients.“

Nancy turns to Vash and basically beams at him.

„Let's take your bags inside first so I can show you your room and then we have to return to this building for a bit to do all the administrative stuff. Do you have any issues with walking?“ „Nah, just my left arm that's not doing so hot.“

„Great! I mean, that you can walk. Not that you lost your arm. Cuz we will have to walk a bit to your dorm. It's further down the road and then we turn left.“

They pass two other buildings, one to the left and one to the right.

The one on the left looks a bit like a school but smaller than what Vash had seen previously. But it has a schoolyard and a small playground and all.

The building to the right looks rather plain with chipped beige walls and a flat roof. The windows are just a tad bigger than the air conditioning unit on the wall.

„Villa Marigold“ says a blue sign outside.

„That doesn't look like a Villa...“ Vash mumbles and Nancy starts laughing.

„Well, we can't exactly call it Hut either, right? It will get renovated soon though.“

Hopefully it will get some bigger windows then. And a new coat of paint.

Another similar building is standing next to the „Villa“ but this one Does have a more colourful appearance. Its painted in a light blue colour and someone drew a flock of doves over the entrance.

They make a left turn just when Vash has spotted something looking suspiciously like a greenhouse far down the street.

„Wait! Is that a greenhouse?“

He points at it.

„Oh? Yeah it is. Good eye! We don't have time to go and look at it now but since you're gonna live here now you can go and look at it whenever you to from later on. You could also work there if you want. Do you like plants?“

Does he likes plants? „I... I have no idea. But I've never seen a greenhouse or.. many plants at all. So I'm just curious.“

„That's fine. Its good to be curious about things. Keeps your brain sharp.“

Sadly Vash feels his brain is as dull as a 6 hours math lesson.

Or the edge of a paper tissue. Depending on what meaning of „dull“ you have in mind.

The dorm they now enter is three stories tall and has a slightly sloped roof, unlike the majority of the other buildings which all have flat roofs.

It is painted slightly off-white and the paint looks new as well.

The stairway looks old and made of dark wood. Their steps echo slightly.

Nancy opens a yellow heavy-looking door.

„Fire-proof doors“ she explains „Your room will also have one. Almost all doors in the dorms are like this so get used to having to push a little harder.“

They are now standing in a large hallway with windows to the yard outside to the right light grey carpet and the walls are painted in a very light peach colour.

Paintings that look very much like the people living here painted them are everywhere on the walls.

Around the door that seems to be leading to the kitchen is a flower mural.

„Okay your room is number 105 so we go left.“

The room doors look like they are made of light wood but since they are supposedly fire-proof that can't be true.

They are probably painted to look like wood or something, Vash muses.

There's a little nook with armchairs and a very cozy-looking couch as well.

Vash hears two girls' voices from the staircase on the other end of the hallway, leading upstairs to the third floor.

„Have you seen Joe during assembly? He looked like he was about to fall asleep again.“

„Yeah I tried waking him up for breakfast earlier but he didn't wanted to open the door. I told him on Saturday not to drink so much when we went to club but of course he didn't listen.“

„Sounds like a killer hangover.“

„Totally. Anyway, we should hurry and get the kitchen cleaned up before someone complains again.“

They walk in the opposite direction as Nancy and Vash.

Nancy stops in front of room 105.

„Okay this is your room.“

She digs in her pocket and pulls out a small key which she then hands to Vash.

„And this is your key to the room. You will also later be given a key for the front door downstairs but our director hands those out, not us. Not every resident has one mind you. We got some troublemakers we can't just let come and go as they please. But don't worry about that.“

Vash opens the door.

He doesn't know what he expected his room to look like but certainly not like this.

Probably more like a hospital room?

This room is fairly large but mostly empty except for a desk with an office chair, an armchair made out of bast, a closet, a large mirror, a bed and a nighstand.

The floor is laminate made to look like wood in a similar shade as the door.

The curtains look rather heavy and have an old-fashioned plaid pattern on them.

The walls are white but not clinical-looking and overall the room is open and bright.

There's a door, probably leading to the bathroom.

Vash puts all of his bags down next to the bed and walks around the room once.

Yes, the door does indeed lead to a small-ish bathroom.

„I know this looks rather dull and empty. You can get your own furniture and rugs and put anything on the wall that you like but if it has to be hung on a nail then ask us first. Though I would advise you to wait a month or two with playing interior designer.

So we can determine how long you will be staying in this room. Would be annoying if you had to move just when you got cozy in here and then find out you can't fit all your furniture in the new room.“

Then they leave for the admin building.

But on the way down Nancy runs into a colleague who informs her that the person they want to talk to is actually right now in This building in the office section so they walk back up.

„Well I guess I show you the admin building at another time.“

They go back up the stairs but this time turn right in the hallway.

A guy with spiky red hair is mopping the staircase at the end.

In contrast to the one they just walked up this one is much newer and almost looks like its made of something like rubber?

Vash can't tell what material it is but it has some big anti-slip nubs on the steps.

Nancy taps the guy on the shoulder who takes his headphones off.

„Hey Paul, is Mr. Friesen in his office right now?“

„Uh... Yeah but he's in a meeting.“

The guy, Paul, nods at Vash.

„Are you new?“

„Yeah I just... I just moved in.“ „Cool, cool. Don't mind the ghost.“

Vash winces.

„A ghost??“

Paul shrugs.

„I dunno I haven't seen it either but a few guys upstairs say they have seen one here. Like, they wanted to talk to a counselor and it looked like someone was in the office cuz they saw a shadow in the glass but when they got closer it vanished. I think it's rubbish but figured I should warn you.“

Nancy chuckles.

„I don't believe it one bit. You know how they are upstairs. Sometimes they get bored and cook up some Scary Stories to tell the younger peeps.“

Seems like some really funny people are living here.

Maybe Vash wont stand out that much after all.

They continue walking.

„Okay if Mr. Friesen is not available right now then I will show you the rest of the dorm.“

The next hallway is overall darker than the one Vash's room is in. Obviously, because this one doesn't have any windows but doors to each side, most likely leading to the other people's rooms.

There's a ping pong table standing right in the middle of the hallway.

That seems a bit stupid and dangerous to Vash but also very funny.

One door is open and Vash can look right into someone's room.

To prevent the door from slamming shut a stool was put in front of it.

The person who probably belongs to this room is sitting in a beanbag in front of a TV and plays a video game.

Loud music is blasting out into the hallway.

„Are you just allowed to do that?“ Vash asks.

„Do what?“ „Play loud music with the door open.“ he clarifies.

„Sure. It's not like people are sleeping right now. At least, they shouldn't be. This is group 2. You are in group 1 and upstairs is group 3. This is a mixed use building so on the ground floor is the daycare. Daycare means they live off grounds and are brought here every morning and get picked up in the evening. The majority of them are seniors or people otherwise not able to work in the workshop. Usually we don't run into each other a lot.“

They walk past the kitchen.

„We cook our own lunch here. Each group has a kitchen and two people are doing the cooking together. They also plan the grocery shopping which we are doing.. actually right now. That's why no one's in there. Each Monday we take the big van and drive down to the store to get most of the things needed for the entire week. Sometimes we also do this on Fridays again cuz we also cook together on the weekends. At least when enough people stay here over the weekend. The majority of the time though almost everyone leaves to go to their parents or visit friends. You are also free to do that of course.“

There is yet another staircase at the end of this hallway that they take upstairs to look at group 3 as well.

Nothing much is different here except that they have a foosball table in the hallway. There is also a big room with huge windows and the wall to the hallway is glass as well.

Nancy explains that this is the assembly room but sometimes they also do other therapy things in there. Another room up here that the other groups don't have is the computer room. Everyone is free to use the computers if they don't have their own.

And back downstairs they go.

Mr. Friesen got done with his meeting in the meantime so now it's time for even more paperwork.

Meeting Mr. Friesen and getting all the paperwork done took an hour and now Vash's head is swimming.

He wishes he would get a break now but unfortunately the day is just beginning.

The weekly schedule he has in his hand says that before lunch he will meet his psychologist. After lunch his physical therapist. Later in the evening there's a nordic walking group but Vash has no idea what that is. There's a note telling him that's outside though.

He walks next to Nancy who is taking him back to his room.

„Saverem, huh? I was told you can't remember your family name. Did you remember or...?“ „Mom's family name. Well, not literally Mom but.. kind of... I don't know who my actual mom is.“

„Well, now it's also your name. So now you're her son for real.“

Her son for real...

He can't dwell on that because as they pass the kitchen someone from in there is shouting: „Hey! New guy! Come here for a bit!“

Nancy grabs Vash's arm and drags him into the kitchen.

„Well, well, well that's a great opportunity to meet the rest of the group! Hello everyone, this is Vash! Say Hi to Vash.“ „Hi Vash.“ the small group of four people parrots.

„Uh... hi...“

Four people, two girls and two guys are staring at him like he's an endangered animal.

„What happened to your arm???“ one of the girls suddenly yells. Shes short and round and has big glasses and pigtails and doesn't actually look to be much older than 18.

„Chelsea! You don't randomly ask people what happened to their arms!“ an equally short but very skinny boy says in a hushed but urgent tone. He looks just as young.

Vash lets out a weak unsure chuckle.

„Shark got me.“

„A what?“ Chelsea is still pointing at him „You're a liar! There are no sharks on No Man's Land!“

A tall man with nerdy glasses and very short dark hair speaks up.

„We usually call that one a Joke. Forgive her, she just says whatever is in her head. Which is a whole lot so you might want to invest in earplugs. I'm Steven, I'm the current group president. And those two are Melvin“ -the young guy with glasses who is still shushing Chelsea- „and Anna.“ He points at a girl who looks like the exact opposite of Chelsea.

Nancy nods at the group and seems very happy about the developments.

„I see you're talking to each other just fine. Maybe Vash can help you with the lunch prep? How is everything going anyways?“

„We are almost done cutting the vegetables and honestly there isn't much to do then. I'm gonna put the steaks in a pan in an hour or so, Melvin takes care of the rice. Yeah.. that's basically it.“ Steven answers.

„I uh... I have to go to my appointment soon..“ Vash reminds Nancy.

„Oh yeah I almost forgot about that. You do that. I see you all for lunch!“

#trigun #trigun fanfiction #my writing #trigun stampede

[thestalwartheart]

Omg, those physical intimacy prompts are all so so good!! How am I supposed to choose one for you to write *insert actual display pic*

So imma be greedy and ask for 1) nose bops and 2) hugs that last longer than they should xD

Thankies and Happy Fest :D

Hello!

Here's your prompt fill for 'hugs that last longer than they should.' I tried to fit nose boops in here, but it seemed Too Much, and I also have a different idea for it.

Posted under the cut and on AO3. You might prefer reading it there as it's quite long (1326 words - I couldn't help myself).

Anyway, here it is! Enjoy 💖

put your arms around me (i'm shitfaced).

“Oh, I’m absolutely trolleyed,” groans Q, holding his head as he approaches his front door. Maybe if he keeps it steady enough, his brain with all its stupid thoughts will stay in his head, and he won’t say anything embarrassing.

Why did Bond have to be the one to get him home? As if the ramifications of drinking tequila with Moneypenny weren’t going to be torturous enough. He’s over thirty. His hangovers last two days. In fact, realistically, this one’s likely to last three. Doesn’t that seem like enough punishment without throwing James bloody Bond into the mix?

“I’d noticed,” says Bond conspiratorially.

He’s got his arm around Q’s waist now. It’s the size of a fucking tree branch. Ridiculous. How did they even get like that? He’s never once seen Bond use the gym, and surely it takes, what? About six hours a day lifting weights and doing that thing where you make the ropes move until they’re all squiggly—

“Battle ropes,” answers Bond, moving Q through the door like he weighs nothing. “Would you believe me if I said the job is exercise enough?”

“Absolutely not, don’t bullshit — oh, shit. Oh, shit, shit, shit. Did I say all that out loud?”

“Some of it. Did you not mean to?” Bond asks, looking far too amused. Q would be annoyed at it, but he really has got a very nice smile. The smile gets wider as soon as Q thinks it, and, oh, he’s going to stop thinking now, lest he say anything else that’ll have him handing in his resignation on Monday.

“Christ,” Bond laughs, “that last mission would have gone a lot easier if the target was this much of a lightweight.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Bond snorts. He deposits Q on the couch and disappears to the kitchen. “Not so witty when you’re blasted, are you?”

“You try being witty after six tequila shots.”

“Three at the most, surely,” Bond teases, handing Q a glass of water. “Though, to be fair, you were probably seeing double by then.”

Q gulps half the water in one go.

“You got there late, too,” he says around a silent hiccup. “You didn’t see the amount of drink Eve foisted on me before the shots.”

“Poured it down your throat, did she? Gave you absolutely no chance to refuse them?”

Q flaps out an annoyed hand in Bond’s direction. God, he hates when people make sensible arguments when he’s drunk. He hates it even more when they’ve got a stupid little smirk and sparkly blue eyes and a very nice shirt that’s got not one but two top buttons undone—

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“Um, what?”

Bond rolls his eyes. “I want to make sure you don’t give yourself a concussion trying to get to bed.”

“Oh,” Q’s face is aflame. He hopes the alcohol making up half his bloodstream is a good enough excuse for it. “Upstairs.”

“All right. Finish your water, and I’ll help you up.”

“I don’t need help—” Q stumbles as he gets up from the couch. One of his traitorous little cats is right at his feet. "Oh, you twat!"

“Clearly. Come on.” Bond’s arm is back on Q’s waist as he guides him towards the staircase.

“I didn't mean that Marvin. You're not a twat, you're a darling.”

“Of course your cat’s named Marvin.”

“It’s ‘cause he’s paranoid,” mumbles Q, distracted by trying to make his feet work on the stairs.

Goodness, he really should give his cats more credit. They do this with four legs every day, bounding up and down like it’s nothing when it’s clearly extremely difficult. And toddlers! How on earth do they manage with their ungainly, chubby little legs? Oh, he really must call in and see the old 004 sometime. He can’t believe she’s got a baby now. Every agent should be able to retire and have babies. Or not, if that’s not what they want. Babies or fur babies, or furless babies. Whatever, they should all be able to retire and drink a million shots of tequila with Moneypenny and die because that’s what’s going to happen to Q if these stairs don’t ever come to a fucking end.

“God, you’re nothing but dead weight,” grunts Bond as they topple over the last. Q apologises, straightening up. The last of the journey to the bedroom is uneventful, and Bond looks around approvingly at Q’s decor before trying to manoeuvre him into his bed. They are right at the edge of it when Q feels an overwhelming urge to do something stupid.

“Wait, Bond.”

“What?” Bond’s still got his hand at Q’s waist.

Q shouldn’t, but Bond’s been so lovely and patient, and Q knows he won’t blab to anyone about this, except maybe Moneypenny, but he’ll likely be blabbing to her himself, so...

Q hugs him.

Bond’s arms settle around his back, warm and heavy. They squeeze with just the right amount of tightness to make Q sigh. Naturally, Bond is an excellent hugger. It’s unfair. People as good-looking and intelligent as him should at least have the decency to be bad at something. But no, he feels delightful pressed up against Q. And it's been a while since Q’s had a hug like this — a full-body affair that makes you want to weep with the comfort of it.

One of Bond’s hands plays with the curls at the nape of Q’s neck, and at some point, Q thinks — though he might already be dreaming — he feels Bond press a light kiss to the side of his neck.

He lost all sense of time about hours ago, so he can’t say how long they stay like that. All he knows is that he doesn’t want it to end, which is foolish. So foolish, because all things end, especially when James Bond is involved.

“Q,” Bond’s soft, deep voice in his ear brings him back to alertness.

“Hm? Sorry.”

“Don’t be. But I think you’re falling asleep.”

“Am I? Ah. That’s embarrassing.”

“More for me, I’d say.” He manhandles Q into bed with a soft smile. “I’ll do a better job of keeping you awake next time.”

“Presumptuous,” says Q. Or he thinks he says it. It’s probably little more than a useless set of consonants.

Bond laughs, pulling the blanket over him and patting Q’s hip like it’s all a job well done. “Goodnight, Q.”

“‘Night, James.”

In the morning, he wakes with more pressure in his head than the Marianas Trench. Of course, there’s also the embarrassment stinging at him like a physical thing. It’s too monumental to deal with, so he spends ten minutes cringing under his pillow before finally convincing himself to sit up. When he does, he finds a bottle of water on his bedside table, accompanied by a brand new packet of ibuprofen and a note with absolutely terrible handwriting. With his headache pounding at his brow, it takes Q whole, seemingly endless, minutes to decipher it.

Nipped out to get breakfast. Bringing back a full English, so I hope you’re not vegan. J.

Q laughs. It makes his whole brain hurt, but he doesn’t give a shit; he laughs until he snorts. Relieved beyond belief, he downs some ibuprofen and guzzles the entire bottle of water before he goes to have a shower. The water doesn’t even make a dent in his dehydration levels, which feels like the cruellest hit this morning has dealt him. Still, he feels he can deal better with it now that the crippling mortification has lessened a bit.

In truth, none of his usual hangover cures work quite so well as the knowledge that Bond is likely downstairs flipping bacon and sausages in Q’s tiny, cluttered kitchen. It’s an image Q can’t wait to see in reality, and he speeds through his shower to ensure he doesn’t miss it.

He wonders if he’ll get another hug. Maybe. Hopefully.

Last night’s didn’t feel long enough.

#00q #00q fic #my fic #007 fest #007 fest 2022 #teamcivilian

[mojavepumpkin]

monday, february 26th

8pm

so i just deleted an entire blog post on accident. upsetting. highly upsetting infact! so yesterday i went on a 10 mile hike with J, saw H. it was a good day. stayed up a little too late. but it was a good day. spent only 2 hours and 30 minutes on my phone.

today has been a good day. i still feel weird. like im missing something. i hope that goes away with some time. today was also good. only one bad thing has happened and it has been the deletion of the WIP post, i thought i posted it too. just very upsetting. better to not think about it i suppose. well now there is a second bad thing - dog will not stop barking. this is why im a cat person. third bad thing - my mom playing videos at full volume in the living room while we're all in here.

okay. good day. i had a good day. art was fine. we got our project in biology, kierstin wasn't here again. math was fine - i dont really understand but i can get by. i need to do the homework in there. we started the great gatsby - i really like it. REALLY LIKE IT. anyway, met L for a walk at the library. ended up doing like 7ish miles, we talked the whole time. it was fun. he was supposed to volunteer for the library, but we spent the whole time walking and talking. i got a book from the library (Jane Eyre) , with his assistance. We ate at mcdonalds - which was surprisingly very good. sidenote; the library has very nice bathrooms.

as soon as i got home i played basketball for another 45 minutes until the sun went down, listened to a podcast during. took a shower, now im writing this. stayed busy during the afternoon, and am better off for it probably.

ive started leaving my phone in places i am not when i dont need my phone. also; new idea on limiting time on reddit and other stuff - i should set a timer on my phone for like 30 minutes and set that time aside for using reddit and stuff. pretty good solution.

i wonder how tomorrow will be. i work. i close. i go to school for the full 7.5 hours too, plus like 5 at work. i'll be at home for approximately 20ish minutes before 10 o'clock. i hope theres time to do math homework in art because if not im in deeep shite if theres a homework check. im tired. im full. i wonder if theres anything else that i have to say. i have a mini-headache. i dont want to go to public speaking tomorrow. i gave away 2 pairs of shoes. i made one of my favorite meals;

Bread (preferably french, and toasted (just like how i like my men))

Sour cream (or greek yogurt)

Sauteed and sliced mushrooms.

its so delicious. i also had a chicken breast with some gravy. and a diet coke - heavenly.

anyway, its probably time i go. cya.

#blog #post #r196 #196 #girlblogging #reblog #blogger #microblog #tumblog #tumbler

[storiesofsvu]

Journey to the Past Ch 11

Bryan Kneef x reader Warnings: language, smut eluded to/talked about/minor dirty talk, conversations involving case work, non detailed abuse/assault mentioned. Sorry for the delay in posting esp with this fic. I have everything outlined but this one needed a little bit more figuring out and I wasn't even sure if i wanted to include it. It was supposed to be tacked on to the end of the last ch but then that was too long already so here we are? LOL. Here's hoping my motivation keeps up this week!

Rather than the usual being buried in cases and feeling overwhelmed you were finally on the uprise, you’d won two of the cases that had gone to trial, offered a plea on another that was accepted and gotten charges dropped on a third. You were leisurely working your way through some wrap up paperwork in your office, a quiet playlist echoing through the room from your phone. You sensed Bryan’s presence, your lips twitching up into a small smile before the scent of his cologne wafted through your office and you finally spoke.

“You just gonna stand there and stare?” You glanced up at him with a small laugh, watching the way he chuckled, pushing himself off the door frame he’d been leaning against.

“Was just waiting for you to wrap up.”

“It’s not that important.” You replied with a shrug as he moved through the office, dropping his briefcase into an empty chair. “What’re you up to?”

“Talking pleas with Harrison.”

“He take any of your offers?”

“He did.” Bryan grinned.

“Looks like we’re both on the winning streak then.” You replied with a smile, “you wanna grab lunch?”

“I wish I could.” He let out a small sigh, “I’ve got a meeting with Diane in forty-five.”

“Lame.” You leant back in your chair, letting out a breath, “I think I might take a half day.”

“You should, you deserve it.” Smiling, Bryan stepped up to your desk, pulling a small box from his pocket and placed it down in front of you, “could use that.”

“What is this?” You raised a brow, reaching out to pick up the box, curious at its contents. The box was unlabelled, no store or company logo, it seemed far too small to be a toy of any kind, which was the direction your mind was headed, though jewelry would fit perfectly. You plucked the lid off and your head tilted as you saw what was inside, “a key?”

“I felt bad about having to kick you out Monday when I had to leave early, you didn’t get your beauty sleep.” He teased and you rolled your eyes, “this way, you can sleep in as late as you need and you don’t have to be worried about leaving the door unlocked.” He leant against the edge of your desk, his voice lowering as to not be overheard, “if you’re taking a half day today, you could use it now. Make yourself at home, get nice and comfortable and put the Lush in?” He raised a brow, grinning down at you and you felt heat surge through your body at the thought of the toy, “would make my afternoon meetings a hell of a lot more entertaining knowing I was getting you off at the same time.”

“Mmm…” you pursed your lips, “that does sound like a wonderful idea Mr. Kneef.”

“Yeah?” His hand reached out, pinching at your chin gently, “you want daddy to take control? Then come home and fuck this pretty mouth of yours?” His thumb trailed across your lower lip and your mouth dropped open instinctively, “that’s my good girl.” He leant forward, deeply kissing you, his tongue sinking into your mouth. He nipped at your lip before pressing a soft kiss to it and his hand slid off your cheek. “I’ve got to get going, text me.”

“I will.” You smiled and he shot you a wink, gathering his things and disappearing from your office in the blink of an eye with even more of a swagger in his step than on the way in.

Bryan couldn’t help the smug grin as he climbed into the back of his car, knowing that he’d left you riled up, hot and bothered with only one thing on your mind. Even if you had been planning on staying in the office through the afternoon you wouldn’t be able to focus much on work and he knew it. He felt his cock twitch in his pants, he wondered if he’d be able to convince you to record yourself while he controlled the vibe, even if it was just audio clips they’d be more than enough. His plan was to get you absolutely drenched, soaking and whiny with need so that by the time he got home you’d be begging for him and he could fuck you so hard you’d be feeling it well into next week.

He was also impressed with himself, he’d been unsure about the key, wondering if he’d be able to pull it off or not. Truthfully, it did make things so much easier when visiting each other’s apartments, no worrying about having to buzz someone up, you could come and go as you pleased. He felt a blooming in his chest and let out a grumble, digging through his bag for an antacid, popping a couple into his mouth and chasing them with a swig of water. He wasn’t going to let a little acid reflux ruin the high he was running on or anything else. He’d been dreaming of this for years, first wishing that he’d had the courage to say something to you, and then imagining what fucking you would be like. Now he didn’t have to leave it to his imagination, he knew just how fucking phenomenal you felt, the heavenly sounds you made as he drove you to your peak. He knew your favourite food, flower, how you took you coffee, the perfect temperature to turn the shower onto in the mornings, and exactly what to do when you were stressing over a case. It was only a couple of months in, and you hadn’t even discussed the label of your relationship, but he already knew more about you than any other girl he’d dated, and this time he actually cared about it. He wrote down reminders, your birthday was circled on his calendar and he was actively thinking about how to make you happy, not just about how to get himself off.

Which is exactly why when his phone pinged with a text from you a couple of hours later he was only a little bummed, and more for the fact that he’d been looking forward to pleasuring you.

‘Picked up a new client. Definitely not getting that half day, I’ll come by your place once I’m done?’

‘Take all the time you need, I’ll be waiting.’ He signed the text with a winking emoji face, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

*

Bryan knew you were going to be later than planned but he hadn’t expected you to be as late as you were. He’d had time to finish his work day, get home, hit the gym and have a long shower, changing into fresh comfy clothes while he started to think about dinner. He figured he’d cook instead of ordering take out again, take the opportunity to use up what was in his fridge before it went bad. After looking through what he had he pulled out some chicken breast to quickly marinate and some veggies to sauté and threw a pot of rice on the stove. He decided on a nice bottle of red wine to go with it, pouring himself a glass to enjoy while he cooked.

He heard the sound of a brief knock from down the entry hall, then the clinking of the key he’d given you in the lock followed by the sound of your heels on the hardwood. You rounded the corner into the main space, dropping your bag onto the couch and peeling your blazer off, draping it over the back of the couch before crossing through the space to greet Bryan with a soft kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him for a second kiss, this one longer than the first and your hands found home on his chest before sliding up his body and linking behind his neck as the kiss broke.

“Sorry about the change of plans.”

“Next time.” He grinned, quickly kissing your cheek before turning back to the stove, briefly checking on the food, “wine?”

“Jesus christ, please!” You replied, letting out a weary sigh as you leant against the island and Bryan turned back to you brow furrowed, a look of concern in his eyes.

“What’s going on? This is far from the high spirited attorney I saw before lunch.” He quickly poured out a glass of wine, sliding it across the counter to you, “this new client bring an un-winnable case?”

“it’s not the case, it’s the client.” You replied with a grumble, reaching for the wine glass to take a hefty swig as Bryan turned back to the stove. “Never in my life did I think Catrina would walk into my office.”

“You’ve lost me now.” His response came from over his shoulder, attending to dinner while listening.

“Catrina is Mike’s wife. Well… soon to be ex wife.” You sipped back some more wine trying to rid yourself of the daunting afternoon you’d had, you thought you’d managed to rid yourself of your ex husband and everything that came along with him but life had a funny way of fucking you over.

“What happened?”

“Big shocker.” You stated dryly, nearly laughing at how much of not a surprise it was, “they were arguing, he lost it and beat the shit out of her. She look likes crap, and the E.R. pictures are sickening.” Your gaze was drifted out the window, unaware that Bryan had completely frozen in his movements, worry taking over his features as he moved from the stove to you, jolting you back to real life when his hand came up to caress your cheek.

“Did he ever hurt you like that?”

“No! God no,” you shook your head, placing the wine glass down on the island, “I told you; I was never mouldable enough for him to behave like that.”

“But that would piss him off even more.” His thumb rubbed at your cheek and you turned your head to leave a kiss in his palm, “and just because he wasn’t physically hitting you doesn’t mean he wasn’t hurting you.”

“Bry…” you squeezed at his hand, leaning in to kiss him gently, “he was too busy cheating on me to even think about it. And you’re gonna burn that rice.” You nodded toward the stove and Bryan let out a soft sigh, darting back over to it to pull it off the burner.

“Did that fucking bastard follow you to Chicago?”

“No, they’re still in New York.”

“So now she’s just dragging you into her messy divorce for fun? Can you even take the case?”

“Yeah I’ve still got jurisdiction in New York.” You leant against the island, “I pick up cases out there a few times a year, for old clients or friends.”

“She’s clearly not a friend.” He commented, shifting the rice pot off the burner as his attention moved to the chicken and veggies.

“No. But she knows just how good I am. And just because she was one of the dirty mistresses in my marriage doesn’t mean she deserves this, I mean, there are kids in that house.” You let out a loud groan of a sigh, running your hand over your face and pushing back your hair, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Bryan flicked off the burners, moving back over to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he kissed you softly, making sure he had your gaze before he spoke.

“First…we’re gonna get you out of these ridiculously high and expensive shoes.” He crouched in in front of you, peeling your Manolo’s off your feet, pressing gentle kisses to your ankles and calves as he did so. He stood up, a hand coming to your waist, “and as much as I do adore you in Dolce and Gabbana, you’re going to get changed into something more comfortable so you can actually enjoy this dinner. After that, up to you.”

Your hand reached up to his cheek, cupping it gently before you stole a kiss, a warm smile on your face.

“You really know how to treat a girl right, thank you.” You lingered for one more kiss before Bryan was shooing you down the hallway so he could plate up dinner.

You searched through his closet, finding an old Harvard hoodie you knew was the one you used to steal from him all those years ago along with the pair of pj shorts you’d stashed in your bag and took the time to pull your hair up off your neck, wiping off most of your makeup for the ultimate comfort for the rest of the evening. By the time you’d wandered back out to the kitchen Bryan had two plates on the coffee table and was in the process of moving the wine over as well.

You thanked him for dinner, pecking his cheek softly before the two of you settled into the couch and started on dinner. He’d queued up the most recent T.V. binge the two of you had been managing to keep up on and that was a pleasant distraction while you ate. When you finished eating you nestled into Bryan’s side, letting out a happy hum at the way his arm wrapped around you, the soft kiss he left on the top of your head. You found yourself distracted, only half paying attention to the show as you thought about Catrina and everything she was going through, your thoughts becoming verbal not much longer after that.

“I think I’m gonna have to go to New York….” You murmured and Bryan’s attention was suddenly fully on you, his head turning to glance down at you.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Your head rolled so you could look up at him, “I don’t think I’d feel right if I didn’t.” You let out a small breath, pushing up so you were sitting cross legged facing him, “he did his best to take advantage of me but I was always a step ahead –minus the affair— I knew my way around things legally enough that he was never a big issue with me. If I hadn’t been so hurt and betrayed about everything I would’ve actually been able to warn her, that she should get out while she can.”

“This is not your fault.” He assured, squeezing at your hand and you let out a tiny laugh.

“No, I know. But she’s gonna need a good lawyer. She didn’t report the assault at the hospital and lied to the police that were called, and it’s not exactly like she came from money. Mike did, and he’s got a hell of a lot of it, he’s going to be able to drag this out for as long as possible and he’s gonna have a good lawyer. I can’t let him continue to take this out on her… and those kids? I mean, he’s gonna be able to make it seem like she’s the bad guy somehow, I just know it, he was always so manipulative and vindictive, making himself the victim whenever I was late coming home, or had to leave during a date? If he could pull that kinda crap with me without me realizing, how badly do you think he’s been treating her?”

When you glanced up at Bryan you noticed how his features softened, the concern in his eyes as he reached out to stroke your cheek, sighing softly.

“What?” You asked, your head tilting in curiosity.

“I just wish I’d said something all those years ago, wish that I’d been able to stop you from marrying that fucking prick in the first place.”

“Yeah?” You asked with a small grin, shifting toward him on the couch, “you would’ve been my knight in shining armour?”

“Yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, tugging you into his lap and you let out a tiny shriek, “I really would have.”

“There’s still time.” You murmured, your lips ghosting over his while your hands cupped his cheeks, finger tips scratching into his beard. He hummed in response, kissing you gently, his arms winding around your waist as your lips moved with grace against his.

“I have always wanted to see New York in the winter.” He muttered back and your eyes widened.

“You’d come with me?”

“If it meant getting a chance to rub it into that asshole’s face about what he’s missing out on, of course.” He replied and you barked out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you swatted at his chest.

“You’re ridiculous.” You dipped down to kiss him again, relaxing into his embrace, “I don’t even know if I’ll actually take the case.” Bryan’s hand glided up your back, coming to softly play with your hair, “I’ll wait and see who his lawyer is, probably pass it off to an old friend.”

“Okay.” He rubbed at your skin gently, gaining your attention once more as you looked down at him, “whatever you decide I’m here to support you. I’ve got some connections out there too; we can find her the best lawyer suited for her case.”

“You really are something else, aren’t you Bry?” You smiled down at him, your fingers pinching at his chin as you stole another kiss, the mood in the room shifting from the conversation to one of adoration.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

“I am.” You murmured back, kissing him once more, “though I do believe I was promised orgasms earlier.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow, a gleam in his eye that you couldn’t help but chuckle at, “you wanna cash in on those now?”

“You know I do.” You practically purred back, arms winding around his shoulders as he shifted under you, scooping you up in his arms.

When you’d first arrived at his apartment you were so drained you thought it was going to be dinner, a minor conversation followed by going to bed, but Bryan had managed to cheer you up and relax you in ways you didn’t even think were possible. You felt comfortable with him, safe and protected, knowing that he had your back no matter what and wasn’t shying away from the potentially awkward conversation or situation at hand. That made you care for him even more, and on top of everything else, you knew he wasn’t going to stop until he’d pulled at least four orgasms from you and you were begging him to stop.

Yes, Bryan Kneef certainly was something else.

______________ @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @bisexual-dreamer02 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @whimsicallymad @mrsrafaelbarba @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @caracalwithchips @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @lustvolle-liebe @anlin2058 @fandom-princess-forevermore @tinyboxxtink @alexusonfire @xovalliegirlxo @nobody-important1212 @somethingimaginative17 @momlifebehard @misscharlielulu @fighterkimburgess

#bryan kneef #bryan kneef x reader #the good fight #journey to the past

[stagefoureddiediaz]

really its because of you that ive become sort of. not obssesed but like whenever i watch the show i just. keep looking at the costumes! trying to look for the patterns in your theories and its become one of my favorite parts of this hahahah anyway, the point is i was reading some of your check theory posts earlier today and now i started rewatching animal instincts (mind you i havent read your costume meta for that ep, i shoumd have done my homework!) and it was just really interesting to see it play out perfectly! specially in the scenes with buck + connor and cameron. like, in the dinner scene buck (buck's in black, i already read that disscusion) but also connor was in check! and cameron's shirt had like a big floral pattern and all i could think about was how that was sort of a reflection on what they would bring to buck after that scene! (which also like, reinforces the idea that the sperm donor thing is a Bad Idea), then connor wearing check to buck's loft later, aaaand my favorite, which i actually spotted during my first watch, was the stripes haha (i also think like half my dash was people going insane over that last monday), and the fact that buck wasnt the only one wearing the stripes, but i dont remember exactly what was the difference between vertical and horizontal stripes rn hahaha because ofc buck saying yes to the donation is supposed to be this big life change for connor and his wife, but i dont know what it all means! im just here chilling and spotting the patterns. idk, your costume theory is stuck on loop in my head and i cannot stop thinking about it!

(and im not even gonna get into the slutty black tanktop of it all and chris's new patterned pjs! thats a job for the professionals)

how did i do? did i get the assignment right? hahahaha anyway thank you for helping me and all of us actually to appreciate the art and thought that goes into costume design, its really interesting to me and i wouldnt have started to learn more about it if it werent for you 💛 have a great weekend and see you next monday!!

jj / babygirldiazz

JJ/ babygirldiazz

I'm so sorry its taken me an age to reply to this! real life got a bit crazy for the last 10 days or so - fighting literal and metaphorical floods and fires at work so I just haven't had the brain power to go through my inbox properly until now!

I adore that you are having fun playing spot the patterns and see if they fit the theory. I hope you're now read the Animal instincts costume meta and that you enjoyed it. you're pretty spot on with your analysis of everything and the thing with stripes is that my theory is about the horizontal ones we see on lots of characters - which Conor was the one wearing in that scene.

The vertical stripes is a specific Buck thing, and they tend to accompany him being emotionally compromised (and invariably ending up making a less than stellar choice). This is really interesting and I've only just fully put two and two together on this (so JJ you get all the praise and gratitude for allowing me to spiral and go on a little Buck costume trawl) but the shooting is the first time we see Buck in vertical stripes.

And thats big - really big - because that is the moment Buck becomes emotionally compromised in a way that he hasn't been able to come back from. Everything that has been and is going on with buck stems back to the shooting. The shooting lead to a host of other choices that were less than ideal - things that he wouldn't have done, choices he wouldn't have made, if the shooting haddn't happened - letting Taylor into his life, saying ILY to her, moving her into his apartment, etc etc etc. all stem from the shooting and all are times when Buck is wearing stripes.

The ones from Let the games begin fit into this pattern - the zip front denim shirt and then the cream shirt both tie into Bucks reluctance to get a new couch - and the questioning of who he is and what he wants - the fact that he's essentially in stasis - and hasn't fully moved on with his life - leading to him trying out self help books etc as a way of figuring out what he wants from life - this is a trauma response in so many ways and those shirts are our sign - a theme the costume designers are using to tell us, the audience, that Buck isn't doing great - that he is mentally unwell and it's why these vertical striped shirts are becoming more frequent in their appearance - because he's not getting better - he's getting worse - spiralling more.

Thats why I've only just been able to really get my head around their use on Buck in the last couple of episodes - it can sometimes take a little while to figure out what a designer is trying to say with patterns and styles, and this is no exception. I fully expect us to be seeing more Buck in vertical stripes going forward until he either fully breaks down, or until he is able to start healing properly - and I'm pretty confident we won't see him stop wearing them until the shooting has been talked about by Buck and Eddie. Its sitting there hanging over them and this show is all the levels of insane and clever for the way they are using all the tools at their disposal to provide clues and information for those of us who want to spend the time looking.

Just going to sit here and feel even more feral about the shooting of it all than I already was!

I hope you have an amazing week JJ and feel free to pop into my inbox whenever you like - you've made my day!

💜💜💜

#kym answers things #JJ asks #babygirldiazz asks #spiralling about Buck and vertical stripes o'clock #I've finally connected the dots #911 on fox #911 spoilers #911 fox #911onfox #911 #evan buckley #buck #buddie #Buck and vertical stripes #they need to talk about the shooting #911 costume meta #I love the wardrobe team #911 wardrobe team keep on giving us the goods #kym costume meta #JJ this post is being added to my master pinned costume post - for posterity

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Cold Sweat

@sicktember 2022 Prompt #20

Fandom/OCs: CottageVersity AU / Sick!Theo (Student years)

Title: Carry On

Words: 1502

Inspiration: This post by yours truly about a sick office mate. 

Author’s comments: Never intended to make a student years fic for Theo too, but here we are. Still, Theo sick at university in some setting or another will be a common theme for these OCs, so I suppose this is only fitting. Nothing special here, just a sickly college student trying to make it through to the next school break. 

As with any job, there were definitely pros and cons to being a TA. However, there was one thing about his current role that drove Theo absolutely mad, and that was having to share an office with the other TAs. Not only share an office, but even share a desk at times, as there was only three desks in their tiny space, and five TAs. Quiet, independent Theo Tenbusch struggled with this more than he cared to let on. While the other TAs weren’t bad sorts, it was the principle. It was nearly impossible to find time alone in their office, unless one decided to be there at the strangest of hours. That meant that everything was everyone’s business. Everything was shared. Nothing was sacred. By the end of the first semester of his final year as a TA, Theo had all but had it. 

He blamed the tiny, shared office space for the cold or series of colds he had been sporting for most of November. He was sick and tired of being sick and tired, and even weekends weren’t long enough to do any sort of recovery. Yet the show must go on, and a person couldn’t very well call in for a cold, especially not a cold he’d had for over three weeks now. There was nothing to do but carry on. In a fog of cold medicine and congestion therefore, he prepared for another rainy Monday. 

The best part about Mondays was that his office was a little less like Grand Central Station for this one day a week, as two of the five TAs’ schedules did not allow them to pop in on most Mondays. This particular day was going to be even quieter, as a third fellow TA was at home due to a family emergency. It was to be just him and Monika all day, and he relaxed at the thought. Monika was by far the quietest of the five of them. They would discuss things pertinent to their work and likely nothing else. It would be a respite, and one his aching head sorely needed. 

When Monika arrived that morning, they exchanged pleasant greetings, and expressed concern and best wishes for their absent peer, but little else. She went to one of the open desks and began to work, and he returned to his papers. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the silence, which annoyingly turned into a cough. He rubbed his chest, wincing. The cough was getting worse, not better, he realized. He sincerely hoped this wasn’t turning into bronchitis. That would be just his luck. 

He was visibly sick, and Monika had to have noticed, but she mostly pretended not to. His coughing was persistent; his sneezing was interruptive and gross. She blessed him quietly each time it happened, but otherwise made no mention of it. He tried to keep sanitizing wipes handy and clear up his workstation each time it happened, but he quickly grew tired of this, as the smell of the wipes made his head throb all the more. 

Class, classwork, work. The day fell into its usual rhythm, though it passed agonizingly slowly. Monika was perhaps noticing his misery more than she was letting on, too. When he was putting on his coat to go to lunch, he saw her eyeing him curiously. 

“Was it very cold in your flat this morning?” she asked suddenly. 

He turned questioningly. “No more than usual. Why?”

She flushed slightly. “You’re wearing a jumper over your shirt. You usually complain about how hot it is in this office. But you’ve worn two layers all day.”

He glanced down. He had hardly even noticed what he put on this morning. He had dressed for comfort. Plus, the first shirt he’d put on had been wrinkled, and he hadn’t felt like ironing it. Still, he realized it certainly was odd that he hadn’t shed the outer layer yet in the tiny, airless room. 

“I suppose you’re right. I dunno. It’s the kind of day for two layers, I guess.” He finished putting on his coat with a wet sniffle, suddenly self-conscious. “Did you want anything for lunch while I’m out?”

“Oh, no,” she said quickly. “I’m alright. Only… it might be a nice day for soup,” she hinted, giving him a meaningful look. 

“For you or for me?” he said with a wan smile. 

“Both, I'd say,” she said with a smile of her own. “If there’s broccoli cheese, I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

“I’ll look. For both of us,” he agreed. 

There was indeed broccoli cheese, and it did indeed help, for a brief while anyway, but soup can only do so much for an endless cold. He was so, so tired. He had been sleeping poorly for days since he couldn't breathe properly, and fatigue lay on him like a weighted blanket. He could have put his head down on his desk, or curled up in a ball underneath it, and fallen asleep immediately. Yet he had to push through. What else was there to do but carry on? Thanksgiving break was in one week. He could make it until then. 

That is, until the chills started. It started with a few shivers here and there, which he could suppress fairly easily. In time though, it seemed his very core was frozen and trembling. Every muscle was tensed, and at last he had to pause and wrap his arms around himself, feeling the need to conserve every ounce of heat he could. Monika had stepped out, so he just sat and shivered for some time. He realized he'd broken out in a sweat, which felt just as cold as the rest of him. Only his cheeks seemed to be roaring with warmth. 

At last he went and put on his coat and scarf, trembling all the way, and the added weight eased some of the shaking. Monika returned not long after. She eyed his strange attire, but didn't comment immediately, though a worried v appeared between her eyebrows. 

When he realized his chest and ribs were beginning to hurt from containing his shaking, on top of the coughing, he knew he could bear this no longer. He directed his gaze at Monika and cleared his throat softly. She sensed his attention, and looked up at him expectantly. 

"If I could ask a favor… could you come feel my face? I think I’m running a fever, and I want to make sure it’s not all in my head.” He hadn't intended to provide proof that the request was necessary, but the loose cough that followed did just that regardless. He stifled the cough hastily; he didn't want to seem overly contagious just as he asked her to approach him. 

Monika was a brave sort though, and she nodded in agreement. She crossed to his desk and came to stand beside his chair, pressing a cool hand to his forehead. The room was silent as she took a moment to gauge what she felt. Theo sighed quietly, closing his sore eyes for a moment. 

“You’re definitely warm,” came the verdict a moment later. “Burning up, really.” She casually wiped her hand on her leg. "And you're absolutely soaked with sweat. But I'm sure you knew that part."

"Yeah, sorry." He awkwardly wiped his forehead and neck as his face reddened even further. "My body is all out of whack. This cold has clearly turned into something else. I think I should get out of here. I don't want to get you sick… although it may be too late for that…."

"Yes, I think we're rather past that," Monika said resignedly, leaning against her desk with crossed arms. "But you should go all the same, for your own sake. You've been miserable all day. You need to be in bed."

Theo nodded wearily. Bed sounded so nice. He began to pack up his things, moving slowly due to his aching head and joints, and coughing all the while. When he was at last packed up, he turned to his companion.

"Thank you for everything today, Monika. And I really am sorry for exposing you like this. It wasn't my intent. I hope you stay well."

"So do I," she chuckled. "But what's done is done now. So if there's anything I can do, let me know. I can bring things to your flat if needed."

"That's very kind of you. Thank you," he said earnestly. 

"Be well, Theo. Please take care of yourself and get plenty of rest."

"I definitely will," he nodded. "You too."

"Of course," she said with another smile.

With that, he turned and left. He sincerely wished for the thousandth time that he had his own office so that Monika wouldn’t have been forced to be around his contagious self for so long. Still, he had to admit, having office mates was comfort every now and again, and on days like today he was very grateful to have them.

#sicktember 2022 #prompt 20 #CottageVersity AU #everyone is hotter with a fever #sickfic #theo

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

Hope Is A Stupid, Useless, Worthless Thing To Have

Dear Future Husband,

What did I ever do to God to deserve this life? 

I really, truly want to know. 

Who was I in a past life? Some kind of rival god? A murderer? What could I have possibly done that is so godawful that I am deserving of all the petty crap God throws my way every single frickin’ day? 

You know what today is? 

Day 21. 

Day 21 of no air conditioning. 

And you know what the “real feel” temperature was 12 hours ago? 99°. With humidity between 55-80%.

Yesterday was supposed to be the day they fix the air conditioner. Well, really that was Friday but after scheduling that day for the repair like two weeks ago, they updated with “we wouldn’t be able to come until the afternoon.” Ok, well, Shabbos still starts pretty late, so that shouldn’t be a problem, right? “And it’s an 8 hour repair.” Oh, and our building has a rule that unless it’s an emergency (which shockingly this is not??) all construction can’t start until 8am and has to be done by 4pm. Well, except when that construction is something our building manager is in charge of like the repair of an elevator that is right next to our apartment and set to start today at 5:30am. Kill me now.

But what happened with the repair yesterday? Oh, just that the replacement compressor they were supposed to install is ALSO broken. It took them like two weeks to get in THAT compressor, which means it’ll probably be another two weeks before they get in the replacement for the replacement.

I’m just so done with all of this.

The problem with no air conditioning is more than just no cool air to temper the insane heat. It also means nothing to condition the humidity out of the air, which means my bedroom is a swamp. 

I know I’ve referenced it in at least one of my recent posts, but I don’t remember if I actually shared the story about why my bedroom is a swamp, so let’s do that now. 

We moved into this apartment in 2019. We actually knew before we moved in that there was an issue with the a/c unit. We had come for a couple of Shabbos meals to the family that lived here and there was major paint peeling on the ceiling throughout the apartment, in particular near where the ducts run. One of the biggest problem areas was the smallest bedroom - the room that was designated to be mine. 

And so, before we moved in, we had a contractor go through and make some modifications and repairs, one of which was the whole vent/insulation issue in my bedroom. 

And guess what repair didn’t really work out well, after being assured that the issue was taken care of. Yeah.

So in July/August of 2020, less than a year after we moved in, I started to notice water spots on my ceiling in my closet and near my vents. We told the contractor and figured when he had time in his schedule again, he’d come and figure out why there was still an issue. Shortly after that a bubble formed on my wall. It turns out that the built up condensation from the duct in my ceiling had made its way through the insulation, through the drywall, and was coming down behind the paint on my wall, creating a water filled bubble. 

Of course, this happened on a Friday. 

I showed a picture of it to MotherLivelyHeart and in all her genius and wisdom, for the first time pretty ever, she called the contractor and demanded an immediate response. So while I was in the kitchen finishing up cooking for Shabbos, and less than an hour before licht benchen, despite my protestation and request that it wait until Monday, two of the contractor’s guys came over and ripped open my ceiling. Oh, I’m sorry, they didn’t just rip open the ceiling, they shoved everything that had been alongside that wall out of the way first, covering and blocking my bed with everything that had been under that entire section of ceiling. So when I finally got a chance to get into my room like 10 minutes before candle lighting, I couldn’t access my Shabbos light to turn it on, my bed was covered in muktza and a mountain of other stuff I didn’t have any place for, there was debris all over the floor from them pulling down the drywall including shards of wood (one of which I had to remove from my foot with a pair of tweezers a couple of months later), and they had put down a sheet of plastic, so with the water dripping freely, it was now splashing all over the clothes in my closet. 

I told my mother I was just alerting her to the issue and it could wait until Monday. She didn’t listen. I told her it would affect my Shabbos and my life and she didn’t listen. No, she instead went off on me about how this is her home and her insurance and the damage would be “on her” and she called and demanded they come immediately, so they did. And you know what? It affected my Shabbos. It affected my life. It’s affected my every day life since that day three years ago and nothing has changed. The ceiling is still open to the elements and my room is still a swamp when it’s humid.

You know what being overtired feels like? Like at some point you’re so tired that you don’t feel tired anymore, but if you lay down you’ll crash for a day and a half? That’s basically where I’m at with my anger towards my mother about this. I’m so mad that I’m not even mad. But if you let me get mad, I will fall swiftly down the rabbit hole of “my mother is a raging narcissist and cares so little about me.”

About a month into having my torn open ceiling face me every day and the contractor not doing a thing about it because apparently he was waiting for my mother to contact her insurance company about it, but suddenly she can’t act swiftly about anything, I was mad. I was seething. 

I was raised on “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all” and so I didn’t. I was so mad that I reverted back to what I was like as a kid when I was mad and I shut up. I wouldn’t talk to her. I avoided meals with her and kept my communication to “I’m going to work” and “I’m going shopping, if you need anything.” And because of the fun way the air moves through our apartment, when I closed my door one day and it slammed instead of closing nicely, she flipped out on me and threatened me with the same thing my father used to threaten us with when I was a kid - find a new place to live. 

To say that’s an inappropriate thing to say to a child is an understatement. We were made to feel like our house wasn’t ours. We never had a home. It was just a house we were being “allowed” by our parents to live in. We lived under the threat that if we did anything to piss them off, we were no longer welcome. We never had the safety and security that comes with having a home. 

God, I’m such a frickin’ mess. 

So there I was again, a broke adult, being threatened with the same thing. All because I was upset that she couldn’t care less about how I felt because of her impulsivity. She was all “this needed to be dealt with immediately” and I was all “yeah, immediately after Shabbos when I have a chance to move things and deal with this properly.” 

My mantra for that first month was “IT COULD HAVE WAITED UNTIL MONDAY” and hers was “THIS IS MY HOME AND I’LL DO AS I PLEASE”. 

So, the door slammed accidentally, she flipped and she demanded we talk. And I broke. And said things I didn’t want to say, but that she forced out of me. I still kept things as civil as possible, but I cried, which is something I never do, especially in front of people. She was relentless and I told her (not in these words, but) what she was doing was extremely crappy parenting and that she was being extremely inconsiderate towards me and how all of this was affecting my life. I couldn’t move in my room, my own space. I was sleeping in a swamp every single night. I had debris all over my floor and all over my clothes that kept getting in everything. The entire path to the door was covered in plastic sheeting that had pools of water on it. Water was splashing into my closet and my clothes were getting wet. Yes, the wetness in the ceiling was a problem, but at least it wasn’t an everyday inconvenience when it was just happening inside the ceiling. And it was understandable that at some point the ceiling would have had to be opened so everything could air out and not create a mold issue, and for the problem to be assessed and solved, but things could have been handled better on her end. She could have actually cared. 

I have gone through 4 DampRid containers in the last two weeks alone. FOUR. It’s been three summers since my ceiling was ripped open and every single one has been miserable, but this one more than the previous two because of this a/c debacle with the humidity we've been having. 

Let me show you what the basic issue is. I’ll use some photos of a mockup I made in the Sims4 so you can see what I’m talking about, but basically this: the closet in my bedroom shares a wall with the room that houses the a/c unit. And although each room has its own ceiling, the space above them both is a shared space and not insulated. So, any heat, any cold, any humidity, any anything that comes in through the little a/c room basically makes its way directly into the crawlspace/bulkhead/whatever and enters my room. So whatever the temperature is outside, you can bet it's around the same in my room. But honestly, the humidity is worse than the heat. 

And because of the layout of the rest of the apartment, my room is kind of at the end of a small hallway and essentially an appendage that is not connected with the rest of the “flow” of the apartment. 

So we were able to borrow two portable a/c units - one in the kitchen and one in my mom’s bedroom, which means the communal spaces of the living and dining room get cooled off, my mother’s bedroom and the kitchen get cooled off, and none of that cool air makes its way to my room. 

I have my ceiling fan going nonstop and it does practically nothing to help. It just spins the hot and humid air around and around. 

I tried setting up a blizzard fan in front of my door to pull the air out and it barely worked. So I tried turning it around and pushing cool air into the room and it barely helped. 

I’ve been sleeping with ice packs, but because the heat and humidity have been so extreme, they condensate as they rapidly melt and my sheets get wet, which is disgusting, and they don’t stay cold through the night. 

I am so damn miserable. 

But I shouldn’t complain, right? There are people in the world who have it worse, right? And now I know how people who live in third world countries must feel, right? So I can learn compassion, right?

Except I was raised with a/c. My body isn’t acclimated to the heat and humidity the way anyone raised in a third world country’s is. And it’s not like this ever happens during the Spring or Fall. This crap always happens in the hottest part of the summer. 

And to make things worse, I take care of the electric bill, which is over $330 for the last billing period. I used to be on budget billing and pay $191 a month, but stupid me thought it would be nice to help save the planet and I switched energy companies in Feb, which took me off of budget billing (which I didn’t know would happen) and then because the pricing wasn’t actually better as I’d been assured it would be, my bills went way up, so now that I cancelled that energy contract and want to be back on budget billing, my average bill (which is what budget billing is based on) is like $100 more than it used to be. 

And the windows in this apartment aren’t normal sized/shaped windows, so to even have the portable a/c units in, we’ve had to tape up the windows with cardboard, but because of the heat and humidity, the tape keeps coming undone and there are constantly bugs in the apartment. 

Oh, and speaking of bugs, have I mentioned we have an ant problem in the car? Yeah, apparently some species of tiny ants has created a nest somewhere in the hood or the engine or the undercarriage or the gaskets around the windows or something, and they’re all over the car. Not inside, weirdly, but all over the outside. I’ve tried ant traps, I’ve tried carwashes, I’ve tried spraying them with cleansers, I’ve tried squishing them one by one and hoping they get the message and vacate the vehicle, I’ve tried blowing them off with compressed air, I’ve tried so many things and I still can’t figure out where they’re living or how to get rid of them. The issue is that having them on the outside of the car means they can easily get into the car which we discovered the second week of the ant problem, when they were all over the dashboard and console and freaking me out every time I drove, because MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis always eat in the car and the ants were attracted to the bagel crumbs. Once we got rid of that, they seem to only be an issue on the outside of the car with the occasional one inside, but I’m still constantly on edge when I drive. 

And I’m just so sick of all of this. 

Honestly, how am I supposed to have faith that Hashem will send Moshiach “today” when I can’t even have faith that Hashem will get the a/c repaired in a timely manner? 

It should have been yesterday. It should have been done already. 

How does a brand new replacement part come broken?!?! 

There’s no way this is not God spiting me. 

MotherLivelyHeart has a cool room. BigSis has a cool room. It’s been THREE WEEKS. And I’M the one affected most by this crap. I’M the one dying. 

I’ve been trying to spend more time in the living room and at work and other places that are cool, but my back is starting to hurt again and I think it’s from that frickin’ office chair. So I’m in physical pain and I’m physically exhausted from the heat and I’m emotionally exhausted from dealing with all of this all of the time. 

I’m just so done with it all. When will this crap stop?

I’ve had other things I’ve wanted to write about, but I abandoned those because even my computer is overheating from everything and I just haven’t had the energy for anything. 

So I can't hope anymore. I had hopes we would have cool air in here again. I've had hopes my ceiling would be dealt with already. I hoped the ant traps or diligently cleaning would get rid of the ants. I've hoped my back issue was a fluke and not due to my stupid office chair.

I've hoped and I've hoped and I've hoped, but this is why we can't have nice things. Because hope is a stupid, useless, worthless thing to have.

Can I even hope you're out there? Doubt it.

-LivelyHeart

#jumblr #frumblr #frum #jewish dating #jewish #dating #shidduch #shidduchim #shadchan #shadchanim #orthodox

[wideeyedsmile]

The Notes You Left pt. 2

Part One Is Here | Explanation Post is Here

Author's Note: Thank you for the feedback! Someone in the comments showed me that someone managed to get a rough estimate of how much Batman weighs and his height by using a picture of him standing next to Bruce after an attack on Wayne Manor. And DANG I knew Bruce was tall and bulky but DAMN. Batman is 6"4 and 250lbs of straight muscle. For anyone who isn't aware, according to most sources Bruce is anywhere between 5"11 and 6 foot, and is almost always quoted as being 190lbs. Like Bruce is also pure muscle but holy shit he must be TINY compared to Batman. ALSO: some people who are new to the fandom are just now discovering the "Abel Bates" name! The fandom came up with it! I can't honestly remember what Abel means, but I remember that Bates is an Old English word for Bat. On the nose lol I know. Anyway, here's chapter 2!

Chapter 2:

"Glider wings require a heavier, more durable fabric. They are fine if you are in clear skies, but if this is gonna be a product for tactical use or an everyday transportation method for those in cities or in heavily wooded areas, a fabric change is necessary. Given that most people don't live in the suburbs, I would highly recommend graphene fabric. I understand it is a newer technology but its great at getting the job done. There is a place in Metropolis that makes it if your ok with outsourcing. If not, I'm sure Wayne Tech is smart enough to figure it out. Other than that, my only note is that landing with this thing is horrible. It can be done but not as easily as you'd hope. Perhaps its an aerodynamics problem, or its not designed for Gotham weather, but perhaps different models for different climates and weather patterns. Gotham is gonna need one that lands easily on windy days, otherwise someone could get seriously hurt. Thank you for your understanding, and as always, the other prototypes were left unharmed.

        - B"

Bruce saw it on the news before anyone even reported it missing. The Batman using a Wayne Tech prototype glider while fighting Riddler. People were starting to assume Bruce was just giving this stuff to him. In many ways, he essentially was.

Monday was the press meetings. Damage control. "We are doing everything in our power to stop these thefts. As of now, we have no leads, and no idea where the prototypes could be going."

Tuesday was the police. "Seriously? Again Mr. Wayne? Don't you guys have security?"

Today was Wednesday. Get into work early, plant the note in the science department, erase footage from cameras. Easy peasy.

Bruce finished up transcribing the latest letter. The Batman had left this, along side various tests he had run. Bruce had no idea what the hell "graphene fabric" is but he's sure either the science department or the textiles department will know.

"Alfred, you know a lot of tailors, right?" Bruce asked. Alfred Pennyworth, the man who was just suppose to be his butler. It was a big media storm when Alfred announced he was adopting Bruce after the Waynes were murdered. Social services nearly stopped him, but something happened and the adoption went through. They've been each other's family since.

"A select few. I knew more when you were a teenager. I had to get your clothes mended and adjusted at least twice a month when you were that age. I'd blink and you'd grow an inch, it was a constant problem. Now that your an adult? Not nearly as many. Why?" Alfred asked him.

"Do you think any of them would know what graphene fabric is?"

"Graphene what? I've never even heard of it."

"It's a type of fabric, it's meant to be very durable."

"Master Bruce, I have been washing, drying, and ironing your clothing since you were a baby. Almost all of your clothes are made from long lasting, durable fabrics. I can tell you right now that the suit you have on right now is made of pure silk. I have done enough laundry and looked at enough of the tags on your clothes to know that whatever that is is not in anyway a common fabric. At least not for clothing."

Bruce thought about this for a moment before speaking. "Alright then. Hey, just so you know, typewriter is gonna need more ink", he said, before finishing his coffee and leaving for work.

-----------------------------

Bruce arrived early. 5:30 am, to be exact. Nobody is working until 7 at the earliest. Gives him plenty of time to plant the note, erase any footage of him in the building, and then go get a non-caffeinated breakfast.

After successfully planting the note in the science department, he goes to erase the footage, only to find the cameras are already off.

"Why are you helping me?" A deep voice behind him asks. Bruce feels a chill run down his spine as he turns around.

There he is. In the flesh. The Batman. Something about being this close to him is horrifying. The suit definitely adds some of the bulk, but this guy is Big.

"Am I not suppose to help?"

"First note was a mistake. I was bleeding, in a hurry, and pen and paper were the only thing I could find. The second was to see if you'd cover for me again. And you did cover for me again. And again. And again. So once again Bruce, why are you helping me?" He asked him. Bruce understood how he could be so intimidating. But at the same time, there was this feeling of... familiarity to it. He wondered how far he could push it.

"Well, you see Bats, those notes you leave us are gaining me more than I'm losing. Those products release with almost no bugs left. Even this latest theft of yours is gonna be beneficial for me. I don't even know what graphene fabric is, let alone how useful it could be in this and in other products. I am a business man. This is a profit." Bruce explained. That wasn't the real reason. That was the reason he told himself so he didn't think about it too much.

"That explains why you didn't turn the notes in. Not why you've been transcribing them."

Bruce was taken aback by this. He shouldn't know that part.

"How do you-"

"I hack into your cameras regularly to turn them off. You think I don't do the same thing to watch whats happening? How do you think I know what to take? So once again, why are you transcribing the notes for me?"

"Your handwriting is shit"

"And yet you can read it"

The tension in the room was... heavy. Bruce couldn't entirely tell what it was other than intimidating and scary, but there was something else in the air that he couldn't place.

"I don't want you getting caught". Bruce explained. "I'm afraid someone will turn it in, or that they'll recognize the handwriting and turn you in."

"I appreciate that. Now why do you care?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Most wealthy people in Gotham wish I were dead. The police force hates me. And for every 10 citizens to whom I bring peace, there is 1 who I scare to the bone. So why do you want to protect me?" He asked. Bruce couldn't see his eyes under the mask, but he could feel them. He could tell that there was eye contact that had gone unbroken since the second this conversation began. It shook him to his core.

"Something about the way you write those notes is familiar. Something about you in general is familiar. Even talking to you right now feels familiar. Seriously, do I know you under that mask? You don't have to tell me who you are, just a yes or no"

Bruce felt, in that moment, that he was being studied. The eyes under the mask seemed to have left his own, and instead took a moment to ponder his body language. He suddenly felt that everything he was doing was wrong. The way he stood, the way his hands rested, the look on his face, it was suddenly all being tested and put under review. It made it hard to think.

"Will you continue to help if I tell you?" The man in the mask asked him.

"Of course."

"Yes. You know me. Hurry up and get out of here, it's almost 6:30, you should be gone by now. Do yourself a favor, pretend to sleep in and show up late."

"What about the footage?" Bruce asked.

"Bruce, no offense, you are shit at actually erasing the footage. I do this for you everytime. I'm amazed you didn't get caught the first time. Now go."

Without another word, Bruce left.

ACTUAL Author's Note: Ya know how sometimes when Bruce and Batman have to be somewhere at the same time (for example when Bruce sorta just KNOWS a banquet he's holding is gonna be attacked) that Bruce will have Clark be Batman for the night, that way people don't think they are the same person? Yeah that's where those "Batman measurements" ACTUALLY come from. It's just Clark compared to Bruce lol.

Btw feel free to share this and reblog it, this is such a niche fic and I doubt anyone is gonna see it otherwise

Tag list: @fuckingshittykawa and whoever else wants to be added to the tag list

#the notes you left #batman fic #bruce wayne x batman #batfamily #gotham citizen au #bruce wayne #the dark knight #dick grayson #tim drake