why was this book in goodwill

The Care and Keeping of Your Alien Baby

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG
Summary: portrait of an alien baby baby mama and alien baby baby daddy

With Scully on maternity leave and Mulder with all the time in the world, the only thing he could think to do was show up at her apartment early in the mornings and leave late into the night.  She didn’t seem to mind…much.  He made excuses for it, called it boredom, but the truth was, since her brief little hospital stint, he was terrified of not being there if something went wrong.

Scully was hellbent on what the pregnancy books he’d been reading called “nesting.”  She cleaned cupboards, or tried to, but her belly always seemed to be in the way and since Mulder kept insisting he was there to help, not to be a nuisance to her, she put him to work.  So, he cleaned cupboards and emptied the little spare room under her scrutiny and supervision, boxing up books and knick knacks to take to goodwill later in the week.  He painted the walls a soft eggshell, questioning why it wasn’t pink or blue or seafoam green or sunshine yellow, but she shook her head and insisted on eggshell.

The crib she ordered came in a box, the instructions with it came in French.  Mulder sat on the floor in the freshly painted, sparsely furnished spare room and metaphorically scratched his head as he studied the drawings of little wooden pieces that didn’t seem to fit where they were supposed to.  

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And now, something truly confusing. Today’s quest does not take place at my usual Goodwill, or any Goodwill for that matter. There is a place in the city that I discovered via an invite on Facebook (it feels as shadey as it sounds), it takes surplus items from… somewhere and sells them at a set price each day (one day everything can be $5, the next $0.25, and you can find basically anything there.) I have found what can only be described as… Underwhelming

I didn’t even know that they made Undertale books. Plus, the author’s last name is the name of one of the characters. Well, let’s check the back and see what it’s about.

Well that’s… 26 words and a number. There’s so much empty space you can almost see me in the reflection. Guess we’ll see what’s inside.

Welp. The paragraphs aren’t indented, the pages aren’t numbered, the margins are weird, there’s creepy mentions of nudity and child abuse, and what curse word is an F, a space, and three-four more letters? Maybe this is why I didn’t know they made Undertale books. 

Oh wait, I guess they don’t. Apparently BatmanRules256 is named Tony. Needless to say, I kept my quarter in my pocket on this one.


So I was house cleaning and I discovered this ancient relic from a forgotten age.
It appears to be a book about the history of mechanical automatons through the ages, in good condition.
It has been signed on the inside cover by the original Steam Powered Giraffe band. (post The Jon, anyway.)
The Spine seems to have drawn a big ol’ angry kitty face, but I can’t remember why. Steve Negrete drew a missile about to blow up Michael Reed’s house, and Paige drew a happy paigeface.
I was gonna Goodwill this, but I think I’d rather re-home it.
Does anyone want this/would you pay me money for this?

Ben: After he passed out we removed everything electronic from his room, and stuck in some old books and an ancient typewriter from goodwill.

Malek: For 20 minutes we had him convinced he’d drunk himself backward in time.

[Phoebus wakes up on the floor]

Phoebus: Damn what the Hell happened?

Malek: Oh look who’s up Benedict, someone had a little too much of the brandy wouldn’t you say. 

[Ben sitting at the typewriter just smashing buttons, laughs]

Ben: Ah welcome back to us Phoebus, you were really out of it good fellow.

Phoebus: Why the Hell are you guys talking like that and dressed in those old shit clothes?

[Malek sips his tea cup and turns the page of his ancient book]

Malek: Whatever do you mean Phoebus? Did you hit your head a little too hard? You were out for a couple days after all…

Phoebus: I was asleep for days! What day is it?

Ben: Hmm it was only 2 days I believe. Today is April 27th, 1945

Phoebus: Wait…..

[Phoebus looks around his room carefully]


Total Huffpuffle

Excuse me if this has already been discussed ad nauseam. I missed it. Link?

Anyway. It’s been mentioned that Sonny is 28 or 29. That means he was born about 1986 or 1987.

The first Harry Potter book came out in 1997. When Sonny was about 10. He was the target audience.

He grew up reading Harry Potter. With his sisters. Aww. It’s one of the reasons why he loves reading.

The guy in line at goodwill with a book just yelled at customers for bothering the cashier about the store being understaffed and it was so beautiful he was like leave her alone she has to work??? And he’s right. Why would you ever yell at or ask a cashier why there aren’t other cashiers like… be nice to them

some texts from last night
  • [ text ] i just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled “dibs!”…
  • [ text ] I remember going home with 2 girls. Woke up with 4.
  • [ text ] I was just told by a cop that my party was the most epic party they ever crashed
  • [ text ] My girlfriend went down on me and as she did she hummed the theme from star wars and pretended my dick was a lightsaber…I’m buying the engagement ring tomorrow
  • [ text ] i fell off the bed in the middle of it, and he yelled “5 second rule” and kept fucking me. i think im in love
  • [ text ] So i guess my mom went into the kitchen and asked me why i was making mac and cheese at 4 in the morning and apparently i yelled at her to “get the fuck back bitch you don’t know my life”
  • [ text ] Just heard a guy discussing with someone else the amazing blow job you gave him.
  • [ text ] The ticket read “Found nude in a tree”
  • [ text ] the girl i fucked last night woke up this morning, disoriented and looked at me, and said “oh, you’re hot.” and went back to sleep.
  • [ text ] He literally didn’t stop until I lost count of how many times he made me orgasm. It took three hours.
  • [ text ] why did i make a hit list last night containing only McDonalds?
  • [ text ] Are they still out there making out on the couch? How can we get them to leave?
  • [ text ] he took off my shirt and said ‘oh my god the legends are true’
  • [ text ] after he passed out we removed everything electronic from his room, stuck in some old books and an ancient typewriter from goodwill. for 20 min. we had him convinced he’d drunk himself backward in time.
  • [ text ] I have to decide between the hot young blond with no apparent gag reflex, and the brunette with a great ass and a trust fund.
  • [ text ] I just saw a 3 year old try to break out of a daycare by driving a big wheel at full speed into a metal gate. Today is going to be epic.
  • [ text ] also, i may or may not be wearing a cape right now. hint: i am.
  • [ text ] Maybe we should try and tone it down a notch. The neighbors changed the name of their wifi network to “i can hear you having sex”.
  • [ text] You text me last night that you invented a new food. Cheese-less grilled cheese. Congrats, you made toast.
  • [ text ] Wearing rip off pants to a booty call last night was one of my most brilliant ideas ever.
  • [ text ] He finally delivered on the dick pic, and Jesus Christ, it was worth the wait.
  • [ text ] You were hitting on girls while wearing the banana suit. When they rejected you you yelled “I gotta split anyway.”
  • [ text ] Hey, it’s not my fault that you had a shitty bed frame that couldn’t handle the rough sex you’re into.
  • [ text ] He claimed he was the best ass eater. He was right.
  • [ text ] I’ve been laying here all day wondering why my back hurt so bad and then I remembered last night…. When you pushed me through that glass table.
  • [ text ] I tried to tell him I love him but it came out something like “We’re both fucked up and it works.”

anonymous asked:

!!!! What is on ur mind at this very moment!!! Write it al downnn

Wow !!!! A lot of things!!! Maybe too much!! Everything seems rly overwhelming & strange feeling lately. It’s like I’m drifting around in a weird afterlife. I am excited to have breakfast today!!! Also I might play some basketball. I love to play bball it is rly fun. I am hyped to finish my book, it’s nearly done!! I am scared all the time, I feel like I am not doing enough & I am letting ppl down. The other night there were no cars & I was laying down in the middle of the street & it felt great. Cookie crisp is a high quality cereal. There are a lot of cool paintings at goodwill I wonder why ppl get rid of them. I wish it was halloween time permanently. Everything is darker & more orange. I have been writing more things on piano lately & I am inspired to make films. Driving at night is always nostalgic I like to be lost but not too lost bc then u die. I am always cold when I get nervous but maybe it’s just a coincidence. There are a lot of good ppl in the world & it’s important to remember that. There’s no point in hating everything constantly even if it’s easy. I got a Tony Hawk game yesterday but I don’t have a PS2 rn so I can’t play it…someday tho. I am sorry for talking abt myself so much. Thank u to whoever read this

FIC: Show me what I want

Summary: Loki’s plans don’t always work in their intended manner. Sometimes, the end result is better than expected. 

A/N: This fic was written for @nyarnamaitar and @angeline-farewell. They both asked for ‘reading the book together’ from this list. I’m sorry for the wait, but this fic grew way beyond its intended proportions. Also, I’d like to thank the anon who suggested Kama Sutra illusion as the plot for this fic. I didn’t exactly follow your prompt, but without you this fic wouldn’t exist. So thank you.

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Could You Be Happy Here With Me?

Moonlight streamed through the curtains, the sheer fabric doing little to block the light. The stars glow hid behind the full moon but the small specks were still there, still watching over him. He could feel the heat as it pumped from vents under the bed. He could feel her skin, the soft curves of flesh so soft. He could feel the beat of her heart, so strong and steady. The scent of her shampoo like freshly cut flowers and ocean waves. Gentle puffs of her breath were ghosting the arm he’d sprawled out underneath her head, her hand tangled with his calloused fingers. She’d shifted so her body had pressed to every inch of his revealed skin and he had never felt so in love as he did in that small studio apartment.

Takeout boxes stacked up on the counter because neither of the could cook more than cheap frozen pizzas. Open books with highlighted, noted lines that intersected like the masterpieces hanging in the small art studio their friend had bought cheap laid on the rickety coffee table. Her shoes and clothes were so meticulously hung up, prepared for the next day while his were strewn at random, unwashed and wrinkled.

They had said the two of them could not, would not, work. She was high class to his empty bank account, she was Gucci and he was Goodwill. She had dreams, aspirations that didn’t need a struggling musician to bring her down and he questioned every day why she didn’t leave. Find a man wearing suits that cost more than all of his existence, marry him and have children that had pretty smiles and brains that could understand what she would say when she talked about her passion for learning.

She could be happy, doing what she wanted whether it were staying at home or working the job of her dreams. She would have options that she could never have with him, the boy whose music was the only skill he had. She would not be studying at night and working to jobs to afford food and a place to live while he played on streets for people who would never respect the depths of depravity his music came from. She never faulted him for it, encouraging him if anything with her soft whispers of The music you make is as important as the books I read, music is a language that the entire world can understand. It saves people mentally and that is something medication can’t always do. She never complained besides occasionally the rare I’m tired that had him on his knees, rubbing along the muscles of her feet and calves that she always seemed so grateful for.

Her I love you’s always were real whether whispered into the dark or giggled through laughter he’d caused. They greeted him in the morning and never disappeared through the day. She supported him in every and any way that she could, promising to love him through the unpaid bills and sleep deprivation as long as he loved her through it too.

He tried.

He tried being as supportive as she was, the depths of her niceties that were given freely and never for reward were unmatched but he did try.

Picking her flowers just so she would smile, laughing while she explained that it was illegal to take these from the park garden but she almost gave him a smile and he didn’t care. He’d stay up into hours that no sane human being should have to be awake at to throw out quiz questions, kissing her for every right and sometimes the wrong, ready to send off congratulation and I never doubted you texts when she sent pictures of passing grades.

He supported her when she had breakdowns, thinking that maybe she couldn’t do it, any of it. Not this time, not ever but gentle hands that were as strong as his love, held her. Whispered words of encouragement, promising her that she could do anything she wanted to because she was her. She would always apologize for it, the way she broke down but he promised her he was as much a safe place for her as she was for him.

He could never be open like her, as free with his affection because he didn’t know how to do that when he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. When he was waiting for her to decide she’d made a mistake choosing him, waiting for the decision she would inevitably make of herself or him and who could fault her for choosing someone as wonderful as herself over him?

Those were typical worries of his, things he questioned, waited for but tonight was different. The call had been more than interest, it had been a promise from a major record label that received the demo she paid for working in the small café for a year, scraping up tips with smiles and niceties even though she wanted to go home and sleep but bringing home the earnings and placing them in a jar she had labeled Calum’s Demo with hearts and smiley faces.

The shoe he had been so afraid would drop, the cutting of such fragile strands that held them together, was something he couldn’t fear. The fourth song of five had the studio in tears, had them scrambling to draw up the documents for the talented young boy who felt more like a man now that a salary was being offered all because of the song he had written for the woman he pulled closer as she slept, smiling at her soft snort before she rolled to press her face in his shirtless chest. Her hair tickled his nose, her feet so cold that he could feel shivers racing up his spine but he couldn’t have moved her if he tried. She was holding onto him like she never wanted to let go and he knew she wouldn’t.

He hadn’t told her yet, the adrenaline racing through him had halted when he saw her wrapped up in blankets, cocooned and safe from the world so he shed his clothes, showering so his cold body would not disturb warm sleep before he crawled in beside her and simply watched her rest. He couldn’t wait to tell her she could do that more often because it was his turn to take care of her.

She shifted in her sleep, the sound of a horn from the streets below knocking her from peaceful sleep and she snuffed against skin that was glistening with a slight sheen of sweat and the moonlight that caught its glisten.

She simply caught his eye, the spark of adrenaline obvious and he could feel as her heart skipped a beat where she lay pressed against his ribcage. He didn’t need to tell her that he had gotten the call as she scrambled to sit up in the covers, the silent communication something all of their friends had been jealous of. She pressed lips to his with a purpose, his warm laughter filling her whole body with contentment as she could feel the pieces of their puzzled life falling into place.

He pulled her closer, remembering a night like this not too long ago when he had penned that fourth track for his demo that got him his record deal, her lips pressed to his with no intent other than closeness, feeling connected as if they were one person sharing the same heart. The way she curled up, the feel of her body so familiar, similar to now when she had held onto him with unspoken promises that all but forced him to retrieve the black notebook from under the mattress.

Writing the words in ink as permanent as her love mingling with his in the air, he penned the title to the song that would change everything, the only question he felt he could never ask her.

Could you be happy here with me?

Blurb List here. :)

-TheHuntersHuntress xx

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