C-ATCH Fitzgerald’s The Great Blue Jay, MXP MJP T2B-P
CHAMPION AT LAST!
Five years ago today, we brought this cute little potato home to become a part of our family. Ever since he was a young puppy, I always had a feeling that he would love agility. He scaled a baby gate in the kitchen when he was 10 weeks old and before it came crashing down, it teetered for a bit. We looked over and there he was, balancing on that gate like a tiny bad ass. Fast forward five years later and he’s earned his CPE Agility Trial Champion title.
We have both come a long way and have worked hard to become the team that we are today. I am so insanely proud and lucky to have this dog to play this awesome game with. My once-in-a-lifetime dog, my heart dog, my champion – The Great Gatsby. ❤
I was just back from a run with Glenn, Daryl and Maggie. I had a few scrapes and cuts but I was fine. Carl came running over with his arms wide open.
“Baby! Are you okay?” He shouts giving me a long hug.
“Yeah, especially since we found more comics” I winked handing him a pile of comics.
“No way!” He grins looking at all the comics. He looks back at me “Boy am I lucky to have you” He smiles leaning in to kiss me. I’ve always had problems with showing affection in Public places, Carl knew but he would still try and kiss me anywhere and everywhere.
“Woah, Carl” I say glaring at him.
“Come on babe, Just a peck” He says pointing to his cheek. I roll my eyes and lean in to kiss his cheek until he slyly turns his head making me kiss his lips. He holds me in making out with me. I finally get the chance to pull out.
“Carl!” I shout.
“What you liked it right?” He smirks putting my hands on his waist. I see the majority of the adults standing awing and laughing at us, including Glenn and Maggie teasing us.
“Quit it! Seriously” I demand walking away from him.
“Okay okay, I won’t kiss your lips” He replies walking behind me. Suddenly I feel his lips crash against my neck and his arms wrap around my waist. I try get out off his grip but he keeps his chest against my back.
“Carl you said you wouldn’t kiss me!” I yell.
“I said I wouldn’t kiss your lips” He whispers in my ear while laughing.
I look up to see Rick and the group bunched together on the porch laughing at us with each other.
“Carl everybody is watching, including your dad!” I warn him.
“Let them” He smiles and turns me around smashing his lips against mine while feeling my ass. There’s no stopping him and I’m already too embarrassed to pull out and face the group teasing us.
After a couple of minutes, Carl has finally finished embarrassing me and we walk back to his house where the group are STILL laughing at us.
“I’m taking those comics off of you” I smirk.
“No your not” Carl laughs reaching for my hand.
“No, you had enough of me for a day” I tease. He runs in front of me.
“Don’t make me kiss your beautiful face again baby” He laughs. I roll my eyes and hold his hand as we walk up the steps to the porch. Oh boy, here comes the teasing.
“They do more than Abraham and Rosita!” “Got anymore of them condoms Glenn, were gonna need em” “Give her another kiss!”
//Someone drops by and leaves a baby in your room, on your pillow. What do you do? You’ve wasted too much time thinking. Now it’s crying and wailing and bawling and screeching. What do you do? If you wasted even more time thinking, too bad, it’s puking all over your sheets now, and while it’s at it, it poops and pees and it overflows from the diaper. What do you do?
This… was a problem.
This was actually more than a problem. It was plain troublesome.
Year of working undercover or in the dark had prepared the contractor for plenty of situations. On the spot, he could crank out 200 possibilities of anything with up to 50 potential plans to boot. Not a lot could get past him if he didn’t want it to, which was what made this situation all the more problematic.
Paranoia licked up his spine, leaving drops of cold sweat to gather at his temple. He had just come out from the bathroom, finished with a shower, and was in the middle of towel drying his unruly hair when he saw the infant on the bed. His bed.
An infant. In his bed.
The worst of it began a second later when the baby began bawling like the end of the world, snot rattling cries hiccuping so loudly from that small form. He was stunned to stillness, but just as quickly Shikamaru was already moving forward towards the small bundle as they cried and cried. He wasn’t terrible with children; he knew how kids worked… for the most part, but that didn’t mean he liked them. Or they liked him, for that matter. A baby was different.
He hesitated in picking them up. Decades of blood on his hands and it was such a ludicrous thought that it even came up, but the fact of the matter was, the child was pure while he was not. Was this some sick joke? He didn’t even have time to check if there was something rigged in the room or on the child for that matter before he finally reached forward to pick up them up. Something in his heart swelled, a strange emotion that he sought to clamp down. This was so fucking troublesome. He needed help. He was not made to do this. There was no way-
As he gently rocked the child, he was rapidly running through various Rooms of ideas and solutions. Best one. Where was it?
1. Police department. That was the obvious choice but it was 1 in the morning and there was no way he was waiting until the morning. Officers will no doubt ask questions. It would have to be done in the dead of night. What was this, every other orphan movie where the baby got dropped off with the police? Who was going to be asking questions? No thanks.
2. Fire department. Less known tactic, but also probable. Unfortunately, the closest one was 30 minutes away and there was no way he was driving down the streets in his T5 Blackie with a baby strapped to the back of it.
3. Literally drop them onto someone else’s doorstep. Was he an idiot? No.
4. Call someone.
That thought alone stopped him short and he had to laugh. Call who? For all the numbers he retained, they weren’t numbers he would think to reach out to.
There was the young, cocky agent who held more names in one hand and sometimes gave him a migraine. Quick on his feet and with his mouth, but a pain sometimes.
An older man whose demeanor was calm, but his hands hinted otherwise. He did not know that man well enough and didn’t believe this was a good way to further that… acquaintanceship or whatever it was they had.
His specialist also came to mind, but he didn’t really want to burden the man any more than he already was. The rapport he was building with him was starting to become a good one, in spite of his erratic visits and wry conversation.
A previous employer whose eyes flashed into his mind faster than he preferred. With a blink, he moved on.
An equally busy man who might have a better idea on what to do comparatively, but it was likely that he was busier than he was at the moment.
Last but not least but the troublesome man with whom the contractor had the joy of seeing not once or twice, but more than that. Cradling the line between legal and questionable, but just the same, he didn’t feel comfortable in having to ask the man. But then again, he was the best choice in this scenario. Legal enough to help, but just enough that he wouldn’t be asking unnecessary questions. Or so he hoped.
Shifting the infant to be cradled in one arm, Shikamaru sought his phone resting on the nightstand and scrolled through the small list of numbers. He decided to forgo a text and went straight to dial the name he chose in his contacts.
“Law, I need you,” he growled through grit teeth once he heard the line pick up, voice strained more than anything else. “Get here now. And bring some milk formula. The address is…”
More selfies! The lighting in TJ Maxx dressing rooms is choooooice. I bought this shirt and these shorts because I had a gift card! I love the shorts and I can’t wait until my bones stop hurting so I can run in them when it’s warm!☀
It’s weird,my first memory of trying on clothes was from in a TJ Maxx (or maybe a Marshal’s, I can never tell them apart). I was 10 or 11 and I was just sobbing because I felt like everything I tried on looked horrible on me. Baby steps, while I’ve come a long way toward feeling comfortable with myself, i still have a long way to go. But I was feelin’ myself in this dressing room!💞
Requested by Anon: the
reader comes home and finds Jim asleep with your baby on top of it, you take
Malachai carefully and place next to Jim *-* plz?
So I might have lied when I said I was coming back… But I did get a job! So that has been taking up my time with training and whatnot. Anyway here’s this request which I have been wanting to complete for a very long time so I hope you like it!
Your heels clicked as you walked down the sidewalk finally on
your way home. It had not only been a stressful week but it had also been your
first week back at work after having your son Malachai. Thankfully your husband
Jim had sworn to take on less work which meant some of your worries had been
relieved but somehow the stress just kept piling on.
As you walked you created a to-do list in your head of things
that had yet to be completed at home and back at work. Finally your flat
building crept up and you were inside the fancy elevator ready to begin
checking things off.
You ruffled around in your purse looking for those god damn
keys that you knew were in your purse somewhere. Finally you found them and
thrust open the door, hanging up your coat, throwing off your shoes, and
tossing your purse on the table in the entry way.
You let out a long sigh and rubbed your face stressfully
before walking into your living room and halting. There was your wonderful husband
Jim passed out on the couch with Malachai curled up on his chest sleeping.
A heartfelt smiled crossed your face as a friendly lemon
scent entered your nose. “Apparently he cleaned as well,” you happily thought. You
raced quietly upstairs and changed out of your stiff suit and into something
warm and inviting. Your feet gently padded the carpeted stairs on the way back
down to your peaceful family.
You paused again and looked on at Jim with marvel. When you
had first told him you were pregnant, never would you have imagined ten months
later seeing Jim so delightfully content in his new position as a father. In
fact Jim was downright terrified and didn’t say much about your pregnancy for a
couple of days. Thankfully he came around and completely transformed into the
loving dad he is today, albeit slowly, but still wonderful in his own right.
Malachai gently stirred in his sleep and you moved to take
him off of Jim’s chest before resting him onto yours. You kissed your beautiful
son’s forehead and climbed on the couch next to Jim, curling up around his
body. The scent of Jim, and the scent of the clean house, filled your nose with
joy as you closed your eyes and feel asleep, right where you belonged.
This single scene makes each second of my life I spent watching this show worth it
In my opinion, they are the best thing that have happened in the show in a long while.
I seriously love the way they finally got to be happy (both deserved it) and even better, they are happy together.
I don’t know about you guys, but I wouldn’t mind if Elena never comes back so Bonnie and Enzo can get their happy ending.
I can’t explain how happy makes me this specific moment… They look so happy, and they deserve that so much.
I love them.
I really love them ❤❤❤
Do you have any hangups in of clothing as a plus sized girl? i feel like I've come a long way in terms of my confidence but for some reason no matter how much progress i make i still have a hard time wearing things that accentuate my belly. Do these moments make me less body positive?
Of cooourse I do. Everyone does! No matter how body positive anyone claims to be, we all have insecurities. You’re doing the best you can and I’m super proud of ya, baby cakes! ♥️
Hey so I first started reading All That's Best of Dark and Bright on AO3 and I just so happened to come across your blog today! (Super stoked by the way) It hasn't been updated in a while and I was just wondering if there was a reason you stopped posting to it? Maybe I missed the memo or something?
Haha yeah it’s been quite a while. Actually I had a baby! Little Steven Grant Rogers. Not long after my last chapter. He’s less than 6 months old and he takes up most of my free time. I am still working on the next chapter whenever i have time at work and enough rest to be able to focus. So I’m still working on it and it will be out eventually!
Imagine being the legitimate daughter to Roose Bolton and half sister to Ramsay, and after the deaths of Roose, Walder, and the baby, Ramsay tells you that he owns you and no other man will ever have you.
Word Count: 808
((Anon asked for, I hope you like it. I know it’s not very long, at least not as long as my other susually are but…the request was kind of vague and I wasn’t too sure what all to include. I hope you like it either way))
I’m pre T but will be on it soon. I’m starting very slowly to accept parts of my body, whilst growing to hate other parts, and it’s a strange journey for me. I’ve been out since I was 19 and am coming up to 23 soon. I’ve made a lot of progress and learnt to love my identity - I still have a long way to go.
“It would be a lie if I said I don’t have a desire for solo [activities]. Even my parents have asked me about it. But there is a right time for everything.” - Woohyun,
Congratulations on your first solo album, Woohyun ~ 6 years is a very long time to wait and your patience has finally paid off ♥ You deserve all the love, support and recognition that is about to come your way
The thing about kids is: they distort time. When Steve arrives at the coffee shop to find it not yet open, he just stares stupidly at the closed door. The baby on his hip babbles – softly, for now. He didn’t even bring the carrier.
A long-haired man comes to stand beside him and Steve says, “Oh – sorry – I don’t think they’re open yet, I’m a dumbass –”
“Long night?” the guy says, looking amused.
Steve smiles wanly because, yeah, it was, but not in the way that this frankly beautiful guy is implying. Between the still-slightly-sweaty hair pulled back into a ponytail, the clingy musk of cigarette smoke, and the, oh lord is that mascara? his lashes are so long – everything about him screams ‘just rolling home from a rollicking night out.’
“Don’t worry,” the guy says, jangling an industrial grade keyring clipped to his belt loop, “I got ya covered.”
He unlocks the grate and slides it open. Steve and the baby both breathe a sigh of relief.
“So what can I get you?” the guy asks, flipping on the lights. “Something with a couple dozen extra shots?”
“Just a black coffee,” Steve says, because he’s not made of money and also because this guy is opening up half an hour early for him. “Listen, I’ll go wait outside and let you open up in peace –”
“Not gonna kick a dude with a baby out on the street,” the guy says, eyes crinkling, as he efficiently goes about the opening process.
Steve is waiting outside the hole in the wall coffee shop again. It opens at 7am and it’s 6:51, so only nine, no, eight minutes now. Steve has a head full of concrete from finishing a commission until 3 and waking up at 5 to get to this nannying gig in time. He knows from experience that if doesn’t get caffeine into his system soon, the infant shriek will chip at his skull like a finely tuned scalpel.
“Bro,” the guy says, “again? I’m gonna take this as a compliment.”
He is being kind, for Steve is sitting directly on the sidewalk with the baby chilling in his lap. He meant to stand up in a few minutes so that he would appear less down-and-out when the barista arrived, but this is the current state of things and what’s done is done.
Steve shrugs and expertly gets to his feet while supporting the baby and keeping his back straight. “You should. Coffee’s good.”
“And I’m the only place that opens before nine in this neighborhood,” the guy says, opening the gates and ushering Steve inside.
“That does help,” Steve admits, again getting a whiff of cigarette smoke and general club aroma. It’s a Thursday morning which, okay, maybe people with actual social lives go out on Wednesday nights, but Steve doesn’t know how this guy is managing to pull an all-nighter and then roll into work directly after.
“You can make me wait outside, for real, until seven,” Steve says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss or anything.”
“I am the boss,” the guy says, lips quirking.
“Oh,” Steve says, floored. “Sorry, I just –” thought you were way too young to own your own business, “Sleep deprived, you know?”
“It’s cool,” the guy says. He’s staring at the baby on Steve’s hip with an odd look, but then gestures to a barstool. “Have a seat. Gonna get you this new thing I’ve just concocted. Mainline caffeine.”
“Oh, I –” Steve’s been living on a tight budget for years but he still hasn’t figured out the politest way to say ‘I really appreciate your kind gesture but please just give me whatever’s cheapest because I’m broke.’ He instead smiles, figures he’ll make it work, and says, “Thanks.”
The lady whose kid he nannies for on Tuesdays and Thursdays flew out her front door this morning saying, “Oh the coffee machine’s broken – hope that’s not a problem!”
“Not at all,” Steve said sunnily, dying inside.
“Here ya go,” the guy says, pushing a mug across the counter to Steve. “On the house. And I’ll get your black coffee started now.”
“Oh – thanks,” Steve says, a real smile breaking through his exhaustion. The baby slaps its hands contentedly on the counter and Steve downs the mug. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”
“I do know a thing or two about coffee,” the guy says. “I’m Bucky, by the way. Owner. Founder. Patron saint of the tired and the desperate.”
“I’ll worship you till the end of the line if you keep making these,” Steve says, and he thinks he’s not imagining that Bucky’s eyes darken. “Bet this makes opening a hell of a lot easier.”
“Sure,” Bucky says. He helps himself to a cup of coffee and leans against the counter. “Though I have someone come take over for me at ten, so I get to go straight home and crash.”
“Ah,” Steve says, fitting the puzzle pieces together. “Bartender?”
Bucky shakes his head. “Bouncer,” and yeah, Steve can see that now: everything from Bucky’s stance to the way he’s built screams ex-military.
“Less crowded,” says Steve, which doesn’t exactly make sense out loud, without his internal commentary, but Bucky smiles wanly.
The baby spits up the remainder of its breakfast then and is very put out about it. Steve gets to his feet and hoists the baby onto his shoulder, patting his back soothingly.
Bucky passes him some napkins but Steve waves him off.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and tosses down the burp cloth slung around his neck. “Way more absorbent.”
“Dude,” Bucky says, “you know what kind of germs are on this counter? Gross,” and Steve laughs.
“Keep it,” he says. This lady insists on throwing away burp cloths daily and buying a whole new round when a box is gone instead of throwing them in the washer. Steve’s given up trying to understand the minds of rich people.
The baby starts fussing in earnest now in a way that suggests nap time is imminent. Steve grabs his to-go coffee and forks over some cash. “Thanks,” he says. “See you next time.”
“I hope so,” says Bucky, and his eyes follow Steve on his way out, giving him a hopeful jolt.
It’s a few weeks until Steve sees Bucky again. He stops by the shop mid-morning one day, when a three-month-old would not stop fussing unless Steve was holding him and in constant motion, but there is a redheaded woman behind the counter instead.
Steve tries to ignore the way disappointment settles in his stomach and orders in a carrying whisper.
The woman eyes the baby with a professional air. “Three months?”
“Won’t quiet unless you’re holding him?”
“You tried sitting him on top of the dryer?”
“Family doesn’t has one.”
“Ouch,” the redhead says and definitely slips an extra shot into his coffee. Steve likes this place more and more.
He manages to wait until 7:15 after a 5:30 start, which feels like mid-afternoon with a teething infant.
“Hey,” Bucky says, straightening from where he was lounging behind the counter. Except for a few customers rushing out with their to-go cups, the place is empty. “How’s it going?”
“Little rough this morning,” Steve says with a grin, because he has the stupidest crush, “but nothing coffee can’t fix.”
Bucky is giving the baby a strange look again, but starts up a new brew of dark roast. “What’s this little dude’s name?”
“Her name is –” and Steve has to stop to think because he’s forgotten for a moment what day it is, “Brynlee. This is Brynlee,” because, again, rich white people.
“Shit man, how many kids you got?” Bucky says. “I mean, that’s definitely a different baby, right?”
“Oh, they aren’t mine,” Steve near-shouts, the sudden comprehension making him laugh. Brynlee startles against his chest. “I’m a nanny,” he explains, and now Bucky is helplessly giggling too.
“So all those muscles are from lifting kids all day?” he says. “Pretty good method.”
“Yeah, and they pay me for the workout.”
Steve stays and chats for a bit but then the morning rush starts and Brynlee’s mom calls him in a panic because she has an hour break at work and wants Steve to come down to the office to meet her so she can see the baby for fifteen minutes.
He rushes off, waving goodbye in his wake, but Bucky’s busy with a customer and doesn’t see.
Steve gets a call from an unknown number a few days later when he’s actually at home and he’s in a decent mood, so he picks up instead of letting it go to voicemail.
“Uh hey,” the guy on the other end of the line says. “My friend Clint recommended you – you revamped all his branding last year? Uh, basically I’m looking for a new logo and new business cards. And signage. And digital versions of all that, if you do that too.”
“Sure,” Steve says. “I can do mostly everything.”
“A jack-of-all-trades, huh,” and his voice is warm and nice and Steve hesitates a moment, because it sounds so familiar. “Well, good. I run a coffee shop down on –”
“Bucky?” Steve interrupts and there’s a pause on the other side of the phone.
“Is this the hot nanny? I mean – oh god, I’m a disaster,” and Steve just laughs because he realizes he’s never told Bucky his name.
“Yeah, it’s me. It’s Steve,” he says.
“Well, Steve,” says Bucky, and Steve can hear the smile even through the phone, “why don’t you come over for a cup of coffee and we can talk about this in person.”
I feel like Pietro would stay up way too long and eventually just sorta crash (literally. So much road rash on tue face its not even funny) so kurts gotta keep an eye on him so he doesn’t wreck himself (also, cuddles, so much cuddles, gotta keep the smol fast from running off in his sleep cause he needs r e s t)
I’ve come such a long way this past year. I honestly never thought I’d ever get to a point in my life where I liked myself. I truly like what I’m becoming! I’ve still got more growing to do, but I’m sooooo happy now. In honor of my one year mark, photos!!
Very Young Me
I was a pretty cute baby, hey!
I don’t have many pictures of me when I was young…. So we’ll skip right to Pre-T me.
Day 1 on Testosterone
1 Month on Testosterone
2 Months on Testosterone
3 Months on Testosterone
4 Months on Testosterone
5 Months on Testosterone
6 Months on Testosterone
7 Months on Testosterone
8 Months on Testosterone
9 Months on Testosterone
10 Months on Testosterone
11 Months on Testosterone
12 Months on Testosterone (Today)
It’s been a beautiful year full of changes, acceptance, challenges, love, friends, and memories. I’m in the beginning of life and it now looks like a life I WANT to live for a very long time.
Thank you testosterone! And thank you to all my friends that have supported me and I know will continue to support me on this journey.