me @ benedict in bridgerton s4 pt 1
@pools-of-venetianblue 😂
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@blueymoons
me @ benedict in bridgerton s4 pt 1
@pools-of-venetianblue 😂

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Hi Bluey, I came across your tumblr because of a fic of yours that I read. You write characters that feel like they could be my friends, like i'd want to be IN those stories just to be in their orbit. Hope you're doing okay, thank you for sharing your work with us!
Well that’s just a lovely message to receive! Which fic were you reading?
I’ve left a couple hanging and I know I need to get back to them, but I’ve been incredibly busy with pottery lately. I’m hoping to getting back to writing in January.
Thank you so much for such a lovely, kind, generous comment. It means a ton to me. 💙
Realizing that the children you’ve raised aren’t interested in your feelings is painful.
Realizing that literally no one in your life has ever SEEN you, been interested in knowing you, valued you, or at this point truly even cares about you, is so painful.
I’ve spent almost 43 years of my life trying so hard to BE loved. Begging the people in my life to love me. Begging for a crumb of affection.
My mother hated being a mother and took it out on her children. By the time I was 5 I knew she hated being a mom and wished I hadn’t been born.
My dad told me he wished I’d never been born before he died. Those were his literal last words to me.
And now, when I’m telling my husband and two sons that I feel like the only value I hold for them is to buy or make their dinner, because none of them are interested in anything I have to say or anything I do, I’m realizing I’ve never truly had the love I’ve always thought I’d had.
I thought being a parent meant that you got to experience a real love. I thought that surely my children would love me. They’d be the TWO PEOPLE in this world who’d love me no matter what. I’ve loved them so deeply and carefully.
I’ve cried with them. I’ve held them. I’ve given pieces of my body up for them. I’ve sacrificed willingly for them and their happiness. I’ve never asked for anything but love in return.
But today…today I learned that my feelings don’t matter to them and that I’m just another person who lives in their house who sometimes gets upset about things not being done and who acts crazy when she steps in dog shit because no one but her will clean it up and apparently that’s unreasonable.
Today I learned that everything I’ve thought I knew was a lie.
And today I learned that I might want to just disappear forever and never come back.
Today is your birthday.
But you’re not here anymore.
You haven’t been for a little over two years now.
And every time I think about it I get mad.
Mad at you.
Mad at the disease.
Mad at your family who didn’t support you the way you needed so that you dove into the bottle and stayed there until you wasted away.
Mad at the choices that were made.
I’m so fucking mad.
You should still be here for me to laugh with.
To see G and how he’s grown. You’d be so overwhelmed with pride in him. He was your favorite and it makes me so mad to know you’ll never get to see him grown.
I think about you every time I drink a glass of red wine.
How many you poured for me over the years.
I think about you every time I sip a bourbon.
How many you poured for yourself over the years.
I think about you so often, Danny.
And I’m still so mad at you for just giving up.
But mostly I just miss you and I hope you’re happy and that your sadness didn’t follow you.
Happy birthday, my dearest chosen brother.
An idiot robin has built a nest on top of our garage door motor. The nest was constructed so the chain that drives the door is actually a part of the nest, and if we open or close the garage door, the whole thing is going to get torn apart. So I guess the garage door is staying open for as long as it takes for these eggs to hatch and these birds to leave the nest.
My wife has set up a camera to continuously monitor the situation.
Wife: Maybe we should set up some padding beneath where they'll fall out of the nest? Normally they fall onto grass, not concrete. Me: Seems like we're really coddling these birds. Wife: Well, yeah. Me: I just don't want you to get invested. Wife: Way, way too late for that. I'm all in.
So we're keeping the garage door open for a few weeks, I guess. Whenever I go to use the car, the robin flies away from the nest and watches me cautiously to see whether I'm going to kill her babies, and I can't help but find that a little bit rude of her.
Pictured here, the robin hopping into her nest to settle in for some egg warming.
Two of the three eggs have hatched, these are some ugly babies.

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find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you chapter two
Two weeks later…
“I just feel horrible. I mean…how could I have done that to you?!” Mel’s voice trembled, on the edge of tears, even as she smoothed the hydrogel bandage over the burn on the side of Samira’s right tricep.
“Mel,” Samira bent down and caught Mel’s eyes, holding the contact. She knew eye contact was sometimes hard for Mel to maintain, but she also knew, from her own experiences with Jack’s intense eye contact that it would make her words more emphatic. “Did you do it deliberately?”
Mel’s gasp almost knocked her off her own feet. “No. Oh my God, no. Of course not. It was a total accident. Sam, you don’t think—”
“Of course I don’t. I couldn’t possibly think you’d ever hurt anyone intentionally.” She wrapped her arms around Mel’s shoulders, squeezing her firmly, aware that the pressure of a hug might help Mel feel steadier, more grounded. “It was an unfortunate accident. That’s all. And I’m fine.” She stepped back and made eye contact again. “We’re fine. Okay?”
Mel’s eyes were glassy, just seconds away from welling up, but she nodded and whispered, “Okay.”
find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you
https://archiveofourown.org/works/65350168
She feels what she knows, from prior experience, is a phantom itch from the ivy as she watches him cleaning the blood off the shoe attached to his prosthetic foot. It happens every time she sees his prosthesis, or notices that he’s limping slightly after a long shift on his feet. It always itches and she always has to restrain herself from rubbing it, from pulling up the leg of her scrubs and scratching it, even though she knows it won’t help.
Phantom itches can’t be truly scratched, after all.
And that’s exactly what Dr. Jack Abbot is.
A constant, burning, phantom, poison ivy kind of itch.
Cormoran Strike's romantic subplots in a nutshell.
I actually don’t care about female characters being “too mean,” specifically to men. I think they should be meaner.
i bet you dana pulls jack's knife out of his pocket when she's struggling to open a box of luer locks one day and it's so blessedly, casually domestic that he only has time to tense up for like .035 seconds before he recognizes that giant ring her man knew he was lucky enough to get her, and he just... stands down. goes back to his log and just nods absently when she slips it back into his scrub pocket without looking away from his screen. he doesn't bother teasing her about getting her own box cutter cause he knows the req's already been denied four times.

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they invented yearning
And if the yearning doesn't become more istg I will lose it
Do y'all ever read a fic so good that it makes you want to elevate your own craft and also befriend the writer? It's almost like, "Hi! You write so well that you've inspired me to embark on a creative training arc. Also, can I yell about the character in your dms because you get it?"
YES. I found my very best friend just exactly this way.
@pools-of-venetianblue
-You know, back at his place, I heard your heartbeats. -God, that is really not fair. You heard his too? -Oh, yeah.
Shawn Hatosy as Dr. Jack Abbot THE PITT | 1.14
“The Pitt”: Jack Abbot’s appreciation post 🔥 original posts: x, x, x, x, x, x, x + other characters: part 1, 2, 3, 5

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abbot: er doctor. veteran. combat medic. amputee. widower. goes to therapy. fakes measurements to allow an abortion for a young girl. gives blood while actively treating patients. copes in dark humor. a yapper. talks his friend off a ledge he was just on. listens to a police scanner on his day off. volunteers to come in on his day off. makes sure people know they're doing a good job.
everybody TAP IN!