#//this is so appropriate as the first starter of my return

[sainzfilm]

🛬 snowed in - lando norris 🛬

summary: wanting to come home for the holidays led you to being stuck at the airport due to the snowstorm. what’s a better way than to spend it with a cute stranger?

taglist: @svechyaho @squderia @idkiwantchocolatee @melonunicornbby @koufaxx @myescapefromthislife @slut-era @pachiibatt @estevries @sidcrosbyspuck @barzysreputation @mick2mercedes @mehrmonga

check out my winter wonderland celebration!

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“Mom, I’m telling you,” You groaned, leaning back against the uncomfortable chairs at the airport, “I’m stuck here at the airport for Christmas eve!”

“That’s a shame,” She replied, sighing a few seconds later, “I hope the snowstorm halts real soon.”

Picking at the loose threads of your sweater, you sighed, “It has to. I don’t want to get stuck here, it’s just shit.”

Clicking her tongue, your mother chuckled softly, “Just rest up, darling. I’ll see you soon.”

With a sigh, you shoved your phone in your bag and crossed your arms while looking out the snowstorm from the inside of the cozy airport. Looking around, you could tell how distressed the people were from not being able to come home to their families for the holidays.

As you made your way to the vending machine, you stood there and thought about the snacks that could help you out of your boredom.

“So, have you made a decision yet?”

You turned around to an unfamiliar face standing behind you, arms crossed and a teasing smile on his face, “Why are you nagging me?”

“Because I want to purchase my snacks too,” He replied, waving a bill in his hand, “And you’re taking a long time.”

“I was here first, you can wait,” You rolled your eyes, inserting your bill into the machine, “You’re impatient.”

“No I’m not,” The young man scoffed, “My name’s Lando.”

“Well, you’re…” You mumbled, reaching down to grab your soda and few candy bars with a bag of chips and turning to look at him, “Awfully pathetic at your jokes.”

“Oh, c’mon, that was a nice attempt,” Lando grinned and took his turn at the vending machine, “You have to tell me your name in return.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you laughed, “Nice attempt? That’s your best shot?”

“How else was I supposed to approach you?” He retorted, taking a bite from his chocolate bar and walking alongside you, “It was the only…non-awkward way.”

“For starters, you could’ve just said hi like a normal person would do,” You rolled your eyes and sat down on the table of a closed restaurant, “My name’s Y/N.”

“Sweet, I got your name,” Lando grinned, sitting across you and drinking from his soda bottle, “So, wanna spend time together?”

Looking at him with a Twizzler in your hand, you shrugged, “Are you going to murder me because you’re a strange man I met at the airport?”

Feigning offense, Lando reached over to steal a Twizzler, eliciting a whine from you, “Yes I am.”

“Nice choice of sitcoms, you got me there,” You grinned, leaning back on the chair, “Intellectual for watching New Girl.”

“You wound me, Y/N,” He replied, a hand to his chest, “I am a man of culture.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, mumbling, “Except for trying to talk to girls.”

Lando snickered, admiring the way your eyes twinkled as you looked at him, “So, what shall we do for the remaining time we’re stuck here?”

Two hours later, the two of you are seated upside down and laughing about the stupidest things you’ve managed to talk about while chewing on another pack of Swedish Fish.

“One time, I got scolded for laughing because my friend passed out,” You laughed, munching on the gummy, “That teacher got mental over that thing!”

Lando laughed alongside you, wiping tears from his eyes, “Why would you even laugh at such a serious moment?!”

“I have bad humor,” You turned to look at him, trying to look serious, “Not appropriate at all.”

“Guess you’re my kind of woman,” He teased, “You think this snowstorm’s gonna pass?”

“To be honest with you,” You trailed off, a small smile on your face, “I’m in between about it.”

Lando sat up properly, helping you to do so as well, and nudged your shoulder, “You enjoyed my company, hm?”

Rolling your eyes, you replied, “Of course I did, why would I stick by you for two hours if I didn’t?”

“It’s gonna suck when the snowstorm passes,” He admits, crumpling the plastic bag and shoving it in his pocket, “I would’ve liked to spend time with you more.”

Pausing for a moment, you frowned and looked at him, “I’ve never asked you about what flight you’re on, haven’t I?”

“Huh, I guess you haven’t but,” Lando trailed off, turning to look at you, “I’m on the 10.30 pm one to London.”

Eyes widening, you choked out, “Mine too!”

“No shit Sherlock!” Lando exclaimed, a grin breaking out on his face, “What seat are you on?”

As you pulled out your ticket, you read out to him, “I’m on 12B.”

“You know something,” He responded, pulling his ticket out and showing it to you, “I’m actually seated on 12C.”

Staring at each other for a moment, the two of you burst into laughter, “What if I told you none of this is accidental?”

“So now you’re quoting Taylor Swift,” Lando grinned, raising an eyebrow, “I’m definitely taking you out after Christmas.”

[luigis-slut]

Crossposting this from Reddit:

I (25NB) have a crush on a girl (unknown age, but likely in her 20s. Early 30s at most) that works at a local nerdy store.

Shes a super nice person, and she is goddess levels of pretty.

If she's just being nice solely because I'm a customer, then she has gone WAY above and beyond. When I asked to learn how to play MTG on TCG night, she GAVE me one of her personal decks FOR FREE. It was a basic starter commander deck, but considering that it's one that the store sells for $20, I still consider it a huge deal. I thank her for the deck every chance I get and tell her how much traction I've gotten from it (Its surprisingly powerful for a starter deck, but thats a conversation for r/mtg ). Also, whenever she sees me in the store, she always stops to chat with me.

In addition, she saw me at the grocery store the other day, and she stopped to say hi. However, that is the extent of our interaction outside the nerd store. So I still consider our relationship to be clerk/customer, and therein lies my concern.

Would it be inappropriate to try and pursue a relationship or even a friendship with someone that I met in their workplace? I don't want it to seem like I'm being creepy, since I constantly hear horror stories about girls getting hit on by weird customers at work. I love the store and want to return even if I get rejected, but I don't want things to be awkward every time I go there, and I don't want to put her in a bad spot due to our worker/customer relationship. I want to be respectful to her as much as possible, and I would die if I ever made her uncomfortable.

I didn't mean to develop a crush on her, and it didn't happen the second she gave me the Magic deck. It's just that the more I talked to her and the more I thought about her, the more I developed those feelings.

What should I do in this situation? Should I try to go for it? Should I try to form a friendship outside of her work first (assuming that she doesn't consider me a friend already)? If so, how would I do that appropriately? Should I just ignore my feelings and face the fact that we won't have a friendship or a relationship outside of the store? Thank yall so much in advance for your advice!

[kingbyx]

Little Cathy what a dream, held her hand and made her scream.

—

Stanford was stood, somehow even more anxiously than usual, in front of his locker. Class had only ended a few minutes before, but it was Friday and the school was already pretty much empty.

Still, a handful of students hung around to talk to friends, make plans, collect things from their locker for the weekend, and, apparently, consider every life choice that had led them to the current moment.

That is what Ford was doing. Standing at his open locker with his hands shoved deep in his pockets (as they often were at school) despite having nothing more he needed to get from it, and questioning his life.

His brother, Stanley, stood next to him. An obnoxious smile on his face as he nudged him away from his locker and tilted his head towards the other side of the hall.

“It’ll be fine Sixer, just go!” Stan said, winking in an exaggerated manor. With a sign, Ford complied. Taking his time to lock his locker, ensure his bag was zipped and his hands were hidden in his pockets, he took the five steps down the hall to where Cathy stood at her locker.

You see, the terrified Ford had a good reason to be scared.

He had a crush.

Stanford had never like a girl before, though he had understood it was expected of him by the age of 15 to have such feelings for the opposite sec.

Cathy was different though, he actually wanted to talk to someone other than his brother for once! She was cool, and confident, but smart like he was, one of the top students in their year. She was brilliant in mathematics, and though she wasn’t against sports she never seemed overly enthusiastic about them.

She was a lot like Ford, but more, he wished he could have her confidence as she walked down the halls without fear. When he had explained to Stan his conflicting emotions, he had immediately jumped to tease him for his crush.

Though he hadn’t thought to label it himself, he was now convinced that’s what it was. Why else would he want to talk to her? Clearly, it was the only good explanation.

Stan had given him the plan- to ask her if she wanted to go for a walk and check out the new ice cream shop that had opened by the beach- and so here he was. Standing by the locker of his crush with sweaty palms hidden in his pockets and what was certainly a terribly awkward smile on his face, no matter how normal he tried to force it to be.

Before he could open his mouth to get the first word in, Cathy looked up and beat him to it.

“Oh, hey. Pines, right?”

His eyes widened in alarm. This was not going to plan! He had a weather appropriate conversation starter ready and everything! He panicked, stumbling over words as he tried to return her greeting.

“Ye- yes, that’s uh, that’s me! Ford- uh, Stanford Pine’s. You might know my brother Stanley, he talks to many people- uh, I think! And you are Cathy- you’re- you’re the only other tenth grader in my advanced physics class.” He stopped himself, laughing anxiously, that was terribly awkward even by his standards. An that bar may as well have been in hell with how low it was.

Cathy, completely defying his expectations again, laughed at his awkwardness. But it didn’t feel targeted like it usually did- she was laughing with him, not at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember you. You sit right by the front, you’re very smart, always happy to answer questions- even when the teacher hadn’t asked them.” Her posture was relaxed as she spoke, a light smile on her face as she laughed at her own joke, most people were tense as they spoke to him. Whether in fear or anger it didn’t matter, they often came together.

“You seemed very smart as well, it was so exciting to see another person my age in that class with me.” Cathy agreed with him again, this was going shockingly well! He almost wasn’t sure how to proceed after such a turn of events, but he forced himself to push forward.

“Oh, uh, any- anyways,” the awkward stutter forced itself back into his mouth, and he had been doing to well too, shit! “I was wondering, if- of maybe you wanted to go check out that new ice cream shop that opened by the beach? I was, uh, meant to go with my brother, but he had plans, and I thought it would be- it would be nice to get to know you. You seem really cool, and confident, and smart- and, and-“

“I’d love to, Ford. You seem pretty cool too. Do you have anything after school or do you just want to go now, it’s not far to the beach if we go through the bush, it’s a beautiful walk too.”

Ford was all smiles and red cheeks as he happily accepted, quickly asking Stan to tell their parents where he went, and assure them he wouldn’t do anything dumb.

The walk was beautiful, and they got to the beach in nearly half the time Fords planned route would have gotten them. He made sure to remember the shortcut.

She never once asked about the fact that he kept his hands firmly in his pockets the whole time. She knew about his fingers, of course she did- the whole school did, though only the bullies really brought it up, he knew that most were aware of his defect. That they, even if they didn’t say it, thought he was weird.

Cathy was different though, she was smart like him, and she didn’t care about his fingers. It was perfect, she was perfect.

It was a short but nice walk down the road to find the little hut with the shiny new ice cream logo, advertising new and classic flavours and all sorts of add ons.

“What are you gonna get?” He asked as they got closer, standing at the back of the short line. Gesturing with his head towards the large sign above the counter with the many flavours displayed.

“Hmmm, not sure, I might be boring and try their vanilla though, it’s one of my favorite flavours.” She replied.

“That’s not boring at all!” He said, “vanilla is a wonderful flavour. You should try the French vanilla, it’s always better than regular, that’s why it’s my favorite flavour besides cotton candy.”

“Cotton candy? Not what I was expecting from you Ford.”

“My brother always said it was a strange choice aswell, but he thinks most of what I do is strange- even when it’s something as simple as studying for a test!”

Cathy laughed, and so did Ford. It was nice.

They got to the front of line line and ordered- Cathy with a waffle cone of French vanilla and Ford with a basic cone of Cotton Candy- and walked towards the beach to enjoy their treats.

The sun was still high in the sky, parents and children ran along the beach laughing and playing as Cathy and Ford talked. Not dressed for water, they stayed back from the waves, but they did end up taking their shoes off to enjoy the warm sand.

Ford, without really noticing, kept one of his fingers somewhat tucked away beneath the rest as he held him cone. Cathy didn’t seem to care about his mutation, but it was habit.

By the time they had finished their ice cream, the sun was nearly beginning to set, and the beach around them was void of people- they had walked past the busiest sections and into the lesser used, quiet areas.

“We should get heading back, my parents want me home by 7,” Cathy said, and Ford nodded his agreement before turning around, “I’m sure my parents feel the same,” he said. They began walking back towards busier areas of the beach.

They continued to speak as they walked, about school, friends, the future, books they liked, whatever came to mind. Ford kept his hands in his pockets again, but Cathy let hers swing freely at her sides.

There was maybe… 10 minutes of walking before they got back to the most popular areas of the beach, when Ford felt suddenly brave.

Cautiously, he pulled his hands from his pocket and brought it to Cathy’s the next time it swung by. Their hands brushed in a silent question.

Without stoping talking, her hand grabbed his. His fingers curled around hers, glad his sudden bravery had payed off, when Cathy suddenly went still beside him.

She looked down at their hands, fingers sliding across his own until she was holding his hand up and in front of her face.

His other hand came up to do- well, he wasn’t sure what exactly, but something- and seeing his other hand, was the straw that broke the camels back, the confirmation that she wasn’t hallucinating.

Dropping his hand, Cathy screamed.

—

A little over an hour later, Stanford stumbled into his brothers bedroom. Stanley was sat on his bed, struggling through over due homework that he hated doing, probably forced by their parents. He looked up at his brother as he entered, a smile on his face, but it fell quickly when he saw him.

Ford met himself fall onto the bed beside him, quickly gathered into a side hug.

“I thought it was going well?

He simply shook his head no.

Later, he would explain what happened. How Cathy had been terrified- probably the only person in the school who hadn’t know about his fingers- and how a kind older woman had heard her scream and came running. She had thought Ford was some predator, assaulting young girls on the beach.

He had booked it, hearing Cathy explaining the situation behind him. He wasn’t sure exactly what she said- if it was positive or negative. He had no idea how she really felt- logically, he knew it was probably just shock- but his heart refused to listen to logic.

Cathy though he was a freak- a monster, just like the rest of him.

It wasn’t the time for all of that though. Now, it was the time to return his brothers hug and to help him with his homework.

Stanley would always be there for him.

[iprobablyshipit91]

Words Unsaid

Part 4

Genre: romance / mutual pining / fluff / angst / royal au

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: bit of language but that’s all I think? However there will be some major triggers in later chapters. These will be tagged appropriately on the relevant chapters, but please only read if you’re of age and comfortable.

Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist || SPN Masterlist

Previous || Next

New update, bit later than planned! Hope you enjoy…

King Charles is obstinate, rude and condescending and you immediately hate him. He drones on far more than necessary, the whole of your visit filled with listening to his endless speeches on the wonderful, God-like ruler he was and the tight control he has over his realm. It’s left you feeling bored and miserable, but mostly sorry for the poor subjects he uses as pawns in his cruel and ridiculous games.

You watch your father hide a subtle eye roll across the banquet table as the King launches into another story that you’ve already heard twice this week and you can’t help the smirk that twitches at your lips. You aim a small kick at him under the table, making him jump in surprise, although he covers it well under the pretence of a cough, his eyes filled with mirth as he catches your raised eyebrows.

"Everything alright?"

Your father schools his face into a neutral expression as the King pauses his story and you do your best to do the same. You mustn’t forget that you’re here on business and there are expectations on how you should behave. Particularly in a kingdom as old-fashioned as this one.

"Just a frog in my throat." Her father smiles easily and King Charles looks appeased for the moment, continuing his story as though there had been no interruption.

You make it through the rest of the starter in peace, tuning out the conversations around you. After your dinner is served however, you feel the Kings attention shift to you, your skin crawling uncomfortably as he squints at you thoughtfully, your stomach dropping to somewhere around your toes.

"So, my dear Princess-" you mentally flinch at the title and how it sounds coming from him. "I hear your twenty first birthday is fast approaching?”

You catch your fathers eye and see he is giving you a soft smile, that familiar, almost distant look in his eye and you know a million memories of you growing up is fluttering through his head. You return his smile then turn your attention back to the King.

"Yes, two weeks from today, actually."

King Charles nods and you carefully start to cut the food on your plate, frustrated that you can’t just use your hands like a normal human being would. At home you could have got away with it easily, but instead, here you were struggling to figure out how to eat a turkey leg like a lady.

"That’s interesting. We don’t seem to have received an invitation to your ball." His tone is conversational and light but you can hear the offense there plain as day. Your eyes snap quickly back to your father and his expression is now much more wary. You can tell exactly what he is saying without words.

Tread carefully.

It was a long standing custom in most kingdoms across the land to have a ball for any royal turning of age, specifically a ball for an arranged marriage to be proposed. You were lucky, considering your parents had been a love match themselves, they had no intention of forcing their only daughter into a loveless marriage for political gain and so the idea of a ball hadn’t even been mentioned.

Until now.

"I've heard that yours and your wife’s rule is less than traditional.” King Charles turns back to your father, a sneer on his face despite the forced casualness he maintains. “I must say, I am rather hesitant to engage in business with a kingdom so-" He sighs, eyes dancing back to you. "Revolutionary."

Your heart stops beating for a second as your eyes dart between King Charles and your father. You’ve seen the way he treats his kingdom; cold and ruthless and if that’s his idea of traditional you quite frankly want nothing to do with it. The amount of homeless on the streets and starving children you saw on the journey here alone was enough to break your heart, never mind the way he’s spoken to and acted towards his servants the entire time you’ve spent in the castle. You know in your heart there’s only one thing you can do.

You sigh dramatically and put down your knife and fork.

"That’s actually my fault your Highness." From the corner of your eye you see your fathers head snap back over to you his eyes full of confusion. You give him a tight smile before putting your princess face on and turning back to King Charles.

"You see, I've had the most difficult time picking out an invitation design, I'm afraid we will now have to send out all invitations by personal courier to get there on time."

King Charles looks at you with narrowed eyes. "So you do intend to have a ball?"

"If she can ever make a decision on what she would like to wear, she will." Your father grumbles, falling into the role of playfully frustrated easily and you breathe out a sigh of relief as King Charles gives a hearty laugh and claps his hands together.

"Delightful."

You almost gag. It is anything but.

The rest of the dinner passes without much event, and King Charles invites your father to join him in his study straight after. A few hours later and your father is loading you both quickly into the carriage, as eager to leave this dreadful place as you it would seem.

"Did you secure the trade you wanted?" You ask when you are finally on the road that will lead you home.

Your father nods with a grim smile. "Yes, all thanks to you." He sighs deeply. "You don’t have to do this you know."

"I do, I can't go back on my word now. One ball won't kill me, dad. I'll play the perfect princess, put on a pretty dress and dance with his son-"

"And every other eligible bachelor throughout the kingdoms." Your father adds with raised eyebrows, looking annoyed at the mere idea.

"And every other eligible bachelor throughout the kingdoms." You repeat with a groan.

"Your mother and I wished to spare you from this." He says quietly, tilting his head and looking at you with sad eyes.

"I know." You give him a tight smile. "This was my choice and I am okay with that. If one night of misery for me means our kingdom's people can put food on the table for their families, then so be it."

He brings his hand up to your cheek softly and looks at you with shining eyes for a long silent moment before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"My daughter." He breathes out, before leaning back and looking you straight in the eye. "You are going to make an excellent Queen."

You feel your cheeks heat up at the pride colouring his tone. He gives you a quick wink then drops his hands, folding his arms against his chest instead. You smile softly and sigh, grateful that your carriage is moving swiftly towards home. Your father closes his eyes and leans his head back against the seat of the carriage.

"Oh, by the way. I'm going to let you explain to your mother how she has to plan an entire ball with all the kingdoms in the next week."

You wince. Your mother is going to be absolutely furious.

You bite your lip, wringing your hands as you stand outside the kitchen doors awkwardly, debating whether to go in or not. Tired of running from your problems, you shake your head, square your shoulders and push hard on the solid oak door. You are immediately hit with a flurry of activity, the familiar commotion wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Dinner preparations are well on the way with Jody in the centre of the kitchen conducting everyone around her with perfection and ease.

Like a moth to a flame though, your eyes are instantly drawn to him, like he's the very center of your universe and you just orbit around him.

He stands next to Sam, chopping vegetables quickly. He laughs loudly at something Sam says, his face boyish and adorable. He reaches out for another stack of vegetables, his arm flexing and sending your heart into a frenzy. You swallow hard, reminding yourself to keep yourself in check. You can do this.

"Well look who’s come back to join us!" Jody suddenly shouts and you watch as his eyes immediately find yours, the kitchen around you filled with cheers. He blinks, almost looking stunned for a second before a full, genuine grin splits his face.

Nope. No. You’re an idiot. You can't do this.

With a deep breath you give a timid wave and smile to the staff before they return back to their tasks. You weave in and out, making your way over to Jody first who envelopes you in a warm hug.

"We missed you, Princess." She whispers in your ear, giving a little squeeze before releasing you. She tilts her head toward Dean. "Some more than others." She adds with raised eyebrows and a knowing look that you determinedly ignore before making your way over to Dean and Sam.

“Ah, here she is!” Sam smiles widely at you, but you can see the mischief in his eyes shining clear as day as he turns to his brother. “Now you’re back home maybe some of us can get on with work rather than moping about the place like someone ate the last slice of pie.”

“Shove off, jerk!" Dean laughs and aims a playful smack towards Sam’s arm, but he dodges out of the way easily. He looks up at you and his own eyes dance with mischief. "I just thought the princess here had run off to have an adventure without me."

He winks at you and the relief you feel is overwhelming. There is none of the awkwardness between you that you’d been dreading, it’s like he had completely forgotten all about your emotional breakdown.

"Please, you know I can’t go anywhere without you." You reply easily but then notice his smile falter for just a second and worry you’ve put your foot in it once again. Before you have chance to dwell on it however, Jody comes over to you and is sweeping you out of the kitchen and back into the dining hall.

Your parents are already seated at the table as you walk in but your mother is quick to get up and wrap you in a hug of her own.

"I'm so glad to have you both back home." She presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you back to the table with her. As you slide into your chair the kitchen staff start to come in and begin placing various dishes on the table.

As the dinner conversation starts you find the unease at seeing Dean slowly fade away, tuning everything out and getting lost in your own thoughts despite him sweeping in and out of the kitchens, clearing plates and bringing in new dishes.

It is as you are just revelling in the fact that you can once again eat a damn turkey leg with your hands that a loud shriek causes you to jump. The dining hall goes completely silent and you look up to see your mother looking at you with horror on her face. You immediately knows what this is about.

"Mom-"

"Don't you dare “Mom” me." She warns and oh boy you are definitely in trouble. "You told King Charles you are having a suitor ball? And its in two weeks?"

Before you can even open your mouth to respond a clattering of pots interrupts you. You turn to see Dean standing with his back to the table at the door to the kitchen, with a pile of broken plates at his feet. The entire table watches in silence as he mutters something unintelligible before bending to pick up the shards. You quickly turn your attention back to your mother.

"Mom, I'm sorry, but I didn’t exactly have a choice." Your mother is still looking at you expectantly. "King Charles was being really persistent about it, he kept talking about us not being a traditional kingdom." You shake your head and roll your eyes. "He kept mentioning his son who’s the same age, I assume he wants us to unite our kingdoms." You waggle your eyebrows for extra effect and your father chokes on the food he’s just put in his mouth, laughing because he knows you have absolutely zero intention of uniting anything with anyone, least of all with King Charles’ kingdom.

There is another loud crash and you turn your head once again to see Dean standing at the door to the kitchen staring down at what you assume should have been your dessert, face down on the floor of the dining hall.

Jody sighs next to you as she picks up another plate.

"I apologise your highnesses, I’m sure we have another cake somewhere."

Dean looks up and you are shocked at the sadness and fury etched across his face. For a brief moment, his eyes meet yours before he turns and storms back into the kitchen.

You look back at your parents and see your father raise both of his eyebrows to your mother. She shrugs in return, a tiny smile tugging at her mouth but its gone as soon as they both realise you are looking at them.

Your mother picks up her tea, smirking at you over the rim of the cup. "I hope you know I’m making you wear the most horrible dress."

Next

[hxhhasmysoul]

Hi..... Can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from JJK? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series (until now)? Thanks....

Characters:

Itadori Yuuji

I like to quote this post by @/lets-curse-each-other a like the starter explanation to why Yuuji is an absolute masterpiece as a character and also the best boi. This post not only shows the peak of the iceberg that is Yuuji's personality but it only hints who much attention Gege gives to his characterisation.

I also love Yuuji because he's written in quite a unique way for a protagonist of a shounen manga, ie. more like a shoujo manga protagonist, and I wrote more about that here. His character journey is absolutely stunning, at every point his teenage beliefs that he developed to deal with his loneliness and the loss he has suffered, get questioned, rhetorically and generally attacked. He constantly needs to deal with his worldview and coping mechanisms being shuttered. And he still manages to be caring, to retain so much of himself.

And lastly I like his character design, it works really well both when he's really cute and when he's taken to his limits.

Kenjaku

They are the absolute fucking worst. They are an amazing plotter, like on a reread it's absolutely stunning how well their plans are prepared, how we see them perfect said plans. I have massive, massive respect for Kenjaku as a villain. They are such a manipulative lair. During my first reread I started compiling a file with all their scenes where I wrote whether I thought that they were lying in that scene and how because my ADHD wouldn't let me sleep, I kept thinking about them.

I love their mad scientist vibes, it's so sad no one wants to listen to them explaining their evil plans, and no one wants to nerd out with them about cursed energy (I'm looking here at you Tengen and Sukuna). Though to be fair, they kill the person who'd've likely been the most into such nerdy conversations, namely Yuki.

Of course it matters to me that they're Yuuji's mum. That makes their character even more juicy and horrible. Their whole twisted connection to motherhood is chefs kiss.

Nobara and Hana

I'm putting them both here together, despite them never meeting in the manga, because for me they both embody the awkwardness of being a teenage girl just on the opposite sides of the spectrum. There is a lot of societal stigma put onto teenage girls. Starting from how they should be.

Nobara is trying to define womanhood for herself while also clearly not being versed in issues of modern feminism. it feels very fitting for a girl her age. Some of the things she likes that are appropriate for girls from the society's point of view and some that are not so much, so she lands at girlboss feminism.

I also love that her reason for joining the Tokyo school is very much not jujutsu oriented. She's not there because of the politics of the clans like some many other students, or because it was join or die.

I hope that Nobara returns, though I'd be also okay with Gege just letting me grieve her at this point.

Hana is trying to orient herself through a crush she has on a guy who saved her life long ago. A guy she doesn't really know but she has created an image of in her head, it's a purely parasocial relationship so many teen girls have. Now I think Hana will be on her journey to reorient herself, build her self image outside of Megumi.

I low key hope that Yuuji will pop Angel's soul out of Hana and set her free, Hana not Angel, that 1000yo selfish sorcerer should join her ilk in the dumpster of history where they are all hopefully headed.

Yorozu

She's a rabid Sukuna simp so like mega relatable ;) But more seriously I love her powers, how much thought she put into them. She's an amazing jujutsu nerd, another friend Kenjaku could've had if they put her in a different body, one Sukuna wouldn't want to kill.

I love her creepy wedding plans but most of all I love that she's pursuing Sukuna for status. The things she wants of him are so appropriate for a Heian woman to want. It's a really cool bit. And she has the classic het relationship energy of "I can fix him". That's why you don't indulge in heterosexuality, kids.

I wish she actually joined the villain cast and remained there longer, she had amazing energy.

Sukuna

Another jujutsu nerd, but he's like embarrassed of it or something because he pretends he's not one. He's very above that nerd shit but also that's how he is the strongest and how he wins fights. He's amazingly not self aware. It's the same with his being so detached when he's very clearly capable of having really healthy relationships with others like he has with Uraume. He just chooses not to. He does have a bit of an edgy teen vibe which is funny in a 1000yo guy. Maybe that's why he's so irked by Yuuji. ;)

I absolutely love how he fights. He puts on a feral demeanor but underneath he's full on analysis and calculation.

He also makes the second best faces in the manga second only to Yuuji.

And his original form is very scrumptious, very thirst-inducing.

[princejoffreyvelaryon]

Looking for a Friend

A part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

( starter with @cerellelannister2 )

It was late, and Joffrey was walking to his chambers to ready himself for bed. He felt lonely with no one to walk by his side, but that was nothing new. He replayed conversations that had happened during the day in his mind as he made his way through the halls. What could I have said better? Did I do that correctly? Does that person like me? He thought.

With all of the new faces around the castle lately, Joffrey had been even more self-conscious than usual. Making sure he had been fluent in courtesies and politeness had consumed his mind, and he continued to worry if he'd made a good impression on others. He wanted to try his best to keep his own image and his family's in a positive light, and his way of doing that was by abiding to the set of "rules" he deemed made a person honorable and decent. Dressing appropriately, using good manners, being knowledgeable on the world around you, and never stepping foot in a tavern were a few of the so called "rules" he had.

His self critiquing came to an abrupt end when he heard a noise. It was a quiet sound, coming from some sort of animal possibly. Joffrey looked around, confused. Not seeing anything, he began walking again. Until he heard that same noise once more, but this time it was clearer.

He stood still, observing all of his surroundings. His eyes trailed around the area but stopped when he saw another pair of eyes staring back at him. Yellow eyes, looking into his own brown eyes.

A cat! He thought happily. Joffrey loved animals, and while he didn't own any pets besides his horse, he'd still had an appreciation for them. They were living creatures too after all, deserving of love and respect. He stepped closer to the small creature.

"Were have you come from? You're a friendly cat, that is for sure." He spoke as he reached to pick up the cat. It wasn't too unusual to see cats around the castle, but this one was special, he knew. It had a collar around its neck, so it couldn't possibly be stray. But who owned this cat, he wondered.

The Prince held the small animal in his arms as he ran through the list of possible pet owners in his mind. He knew it wasn't one of his siblings, or even one of his family members at that. Someone new, possibly? Someone he had recently met...

Lady Lannister, yes, her! Joffrey concluded it had to be Cerelle Lannister, a lady he had recently met. He remembered meeting her for the first time and her saying something about having cats. She had spoken about how they had all come with her to Kings Landing. He hadn't heard about any others bringing their cats here, so he decided it had to be hers. He would go to her chambers at once and return her adorable pet.

The cat purred in his arms as he gently stroked its fur. His mood had completely shifted from somber to ecstatic since finding this small creature. He would soon get to talk with Cerelle, which made him happy. Being in the company of another would be nice, he thought. The two of them were of a similar age, so they would most likely have something in common. She had been nice the first time they briefly met, so he hoped they could be friends. He also got to spend time with her cat, so that was yet another positive.

He forgot all about preparing himself to sleep now that he had a new objective this night. Return the cat and make a friend, a simple plan. He stood in front of Cerelle's door and knocked. "My Lady Lannister, it's me, Prince Joffrey." He said, hoping that did not sound too strange.

The two met face to face when she opened the door. She was everything he had heard a Lannister should look like. Blonde, curly hair. A beautiful face. An elegant gown, except, her gown was not the typical Lannister red, rather a pale blue. Was this for a specific reason, or did she just enjoy the color blue? Joffrey wondered. His own outfit he had on was blue as well, honoring house Velaryon. He thought it was most proper and honorable to wear your house colors, especially when seeing others from different households.

"My Lady, I'm terribly sorry if I have intruded on anything of importance, but I have a message for you tonight." He lifted up the cat to show her, even though it had already been visible in his arms. He smiled at her, thinking his joke of pretending her pet was a "message" was funny.

"One of your sweet pets has somehow made its way out of your chambers, so I am here to return it. And maybe, to seek some company, if you would care to spare some time?"

[mmorning-stars]

.law

  001.    this blog is low-activity, meaning there will be times i step away from this blog for extended periods. you may find me on various other fandom blogs or discord in the interim. as such, i ask nicely that you don’t pressure me about replying. if i don’t get to it, i’m always willing to pick it up again whenever i return or start a new one!

  002.    if this is inaccessible to you in any way, i am very willing to adapt my style to your needs. just let me know if you have trouble reading and we’ll go from there!

i play in narrative, multi-paragraph format most of the time, with the exception of crack threads. i also tend to use small text with bolded dialogue and icons to go along (once i get around to making them). there is never any need to match the length of my replies, either.

  003.   i love to plot out things or work from a starter meme. my ask box is always open for those. if you’d like to continue from an ask, you can make a new post or just keep going. however, i ask that you trim the post to keep it from clogging the dash.

  004.   triggers will be tagged as “___ tw” for common things by default. if there is anything in particular you want to avoid, let me know. there will never be any self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, csa or other sa, or spiders depicted on this blog.

  005.    i multi-ship and am willing to play out a romance with various characters. keep in mind that these ships may take place in separate iterations of the same verse, and cheating is not a thing unless dictated otherwise.

i am also good with nsfw rp, though i would prefer to engage in that on discord. do not message me just for smut. i want to develop an actual relationship with our muses first to determine appropriate chemistry.

  006.    no godmodding. please be respectful of me and my muses and don’t try to say anything or act as them. also, please bear in mind that mun ≠ muse, so their actions, thoughts, and behaviors may not match what i personally believe.

  007.   i do not necessarily practice "mains" or "exclusives" when it comes to writing partners unless we happen to write together very frequently. get to know my muse(s) first, and we'll see where things go!

[stelleblazer]

laws.

✦ activity. ✦ This blog is low-activity, meaning there will be times I step away from this blog for extended periods. You may find me on various other fandom blogs or Discord in the interim. As such, I ask nicely that you don’t pressure me about replying. If I don’t get to it, I’m always willing to pick it up again whenever I return or start a new one!

✦ formatting. ✦ If this is inaccessible to you in any way, I am very willing to adapt my style to your needs. Just let me know if you have trouble reading and we’ll go from there!

I play in narrative, multi-paragraph format most of the time, with the exception of crack threads. I also tend to use small text with bolded dialogue and icons to go along. There is never any need to match the length of my replies, either.

✦ interactions. ✦ I love to plot out things or work from a starter meme. My ask box is always open for those. If you’d like to continue from an ask, you can make a new post or just keep going. However, I ask that you trim the post to keep it from clogging the dash.

✦ triggers. ✦ Triggers will be tagged as “___ tw” for common things by default. If there is anything in particular you want to avoid, let me know. There will never be any self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, CSA or other SA, or spiders depicted on this blog.

✦ ships. ✦ I multi-ship and am willing to play out a romance with various characters. Keep in mind that these ships may take place in separate iterations of the same verse, and cheating is NOT a thing unless dictated otherwise. I am also okay with NSFW rp, though I would prefer to engage in that on Discord. DO NOT message me just for smut. I want to develop an actual relationship with our muses first to determine appropriate chemistry. ✦ general. ✦ No godmodding. Please be respectful of me and my muse and don’t try to say anything or act as her. Also, please bear in mind that mun ≠ muse, so Stelle’s actions, thoughts, and behaviors may not match what I personally believe.

[woednesdayaddams]

♱ starter for @gamelost

it’s remarkable how, despite her lack of comprehending repercussions, she managed to thrive. wednesday was, after all, taken into captivity, raven wings not capable of flapping away to where it’s needed – a funeral or on a windowsill, gazing over the lucky soul that’ll soon depart from the living. instead, she was confined in a total penitentiary, amongst hormonal driven teenagers. if hell exists, it takes inspiration from nevermore.

no hesitation in her movements as she approached him, as well as no remorse regarding her own safety – she’s surrounded by individuals with inhumane strength and then, there she was, not only ignoring but also unbiased by social norms. she was in close proximity to matt, although she respected her own personal space – at least three feet away from any other being, dead or alive. her first intention was to announce her presence, since most people did not yet pick up on her personal way of greeting someone. apparently, sneaking up on them was not appropriate and that killed her fun. that’s the only hope she truly had for the academy.

she inhales, almost pronouncing his name. MATT. it was easy. crimson stained lips already parted, prepared to let out a simple word, a name. but it didn’t feel right. a return to her previous facial expression, a pout. giving it another thought, there was, perhaps, a better way to approach people. engage, be friendlier, as principal weems suggested. of course, that is on wednesday’s own accords and she deliberately chooses to not make the difference between smothering someone with kind words and smothering someone in their sleep.

it’s not breaking the rules if the rules weren’t set in stone. she only stretched them the slightest bit, hoping the changes won’t be noticeable. she lowers her head, her face breaking the limited three feet away distance and she opens her mouth.

“pspspsps.” the sole sound that leaves her throat. a blasphemy, for sure, but one wednesday accepts. instigating is one of her many talents and she knows it. if she can’t instill fear in others, the least she can do is torture them, be it mentally or physically.

torturing the person she wants help from is indeed a good strategy, at least to wednesday’s dark imagination. it’s only through torture that she gets to see the resistence someone is willing to provide, a valuable asset on the long run. “you ignored my cues in the conservatory, so this is how i’ll start calling you. you’ve made your bed now die in it.” an opprobrious remark to mark that they’re even, at last.

how could he miss her cues? the intense stare watching his every move was pretty obvious, at least to wedneday’s own according. nonetheless, she needed his objective opinion over a very secret, very classified matter.

[charlotel]

.law

  001.    this blog is low-activity, meaning there will be times i step away from this blog for extended periods. you may find me on various other fandom blogs or discord in the interim. as such, i ask nicely that you don’t pressure me about replying. if i don’t get to it, i’m always willing to pick it up again whenever i return or start a new one!

  002.    if this is inaccessible to you in any way, i am very willing to adapt my style to your needs. just let me know if you have trouble reading and we’ll go from there!

i play in narrative, multi-paragraph format most of the time, with the exception of crack threads. i also tend to use small text with bolded dialogue and icons to go along (once i get around to making them). there is never any need to match the length of my replies, either.

  003.   i love to plot out things or work from a starter meme. my ask box is always open for those. if you’d like to continue from an ask, you can make a new post or just keep going. however, i ask that you trim the post to keep it from clogging the dash.

  004.   triggers will be tagged as “___ tw” for common things by default. if there is anything in particular you want to avoid, let me know. there will never be any self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, csa or other sa, or spiders depicted on this blog.

  005.    i multi-ship and am willing to play out a romance with various characters. keep in mind that these ships may take place in separate iterations of the same verse, and cheating is not a thing unless dictated otherwise.

i am also good with nsfw rp, though i would prefer to engage in that on discord. do not message me just for smut. i want to develop an actual relationship with our muses first to determine appropriate chemistry.

  006.    no godmodding. please be respectful of me and my muses and don’t try to say anything or act as them. also, please bear in mind that mun ≠ muse, so their actions, thoughts, and behaviors may not match what i personally believe.

  007.   i do not necessarily practice "mains" or "exclusives" when it comes to writing partners unless we happen to write together very frequently. get to know my muse(s) first, and we'll see where things go!

[amorwings]

.law

  001.    this blog is low-activity, meaning there will be times i step away from this blog for extended periods. you may find me on various other fandom blogs or discord in the interim. as such, i ask nicely that you don’t pressure me about replying. if i don’t get to it, i’m always willing to pick it up again whenever i return or start a new one!

  002.    if this is inaccessible to you in any way, i am very willing to adapt my style to your needs. just let me know if you have trouble reading and we’ll go from there!

i play in narrative, multi-paragraph format most of the time, with the exception of crack threads. i also tend to use small text with bolded dialogue and icons to go along (once i get around to making them). there is never any need to match the length of my replies, either.

  003.   i love to plot out things or work from a starter meme. my ask box is always open for those. if you’d like to continue from an ask, you can make a new post or just keep going. however, i ask that you trim the post to keep it from clogging the dash.

  004.   triggers will be tagged as “___ tw” for common things by default. if there is anything in particular you want to avoid, let me know. there will never be any self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, csa or other sa, or spiders depicted on this blog.

  005.    i multi-ship and am willing to play out a romance with various characters. keep in mind that these ships may take place in separate iterations of the same verse, and cheating is not a thing unless dictated otherwise.

i am also good with nsfw rp, though i would prefer to engage in that on discord. do not message me just for smut. i want to develop an actual relationship with our muses first to determine appropriate chemistry.

  006.    no godmodding. please be respectful of me and my muses and don’t try to say anything or act as them. also, please bear in mind that mun ≠ muse, so their actions, thoughts, and behaviors may not match what i personally believe.

  007.   i do not necessarily practice "mains" or "exclusives" when it comes to writing partners unless we happen to write together very frequently. get to know my muse(s) first, and we'll see where things go!

[stay-tuncd]

.law

  001.    this blog is low-activity, meaning there will be times i step away from this blog for extended periods. you may find me on various other fandom blogs or discord in the interim. as such, i ask nicely that you don’t pressure me about replying. if i don’t get to it, i’m always willing to pick it up again whenever i return or start a new one!

  002.    if this is inaccessible to you in any way, i am very willing to adapt my style to your needs. just let me know if you have trouble reading and we’ll go from there!

i play in narrative, multi-paragraph format most of the time, with the exception of crack threads. i also tend to use small text with bolded dialogue and icons to go along (once i get around to making them). there is never any need to match the length of my replies, either.

  003.   i love to plot out things or work from a starter meme. my ask box is always open for those. if you’d like to continue from an ask, you can make a new post or just keep going. however, i ask that you trim the post to keep it from clogging the dash.

  004.   triggers will be tagged as “___ tw” for common things by default. if there is anything in particular you want to avoid, let me know. there will never be any self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, csa or other sa, or spiders depicted on this blog.

  005.    i multi-ship and am willing to play out a romance with various characters. keep in mind that these ships may take place in separate iterations of the same verse, and cheating is not a thing unless dictated otherwise.

i am also good with nsfw rp, though i would prefer to engage in that on discord. do not message me just for smut. i want to develop an actual relationship with our muses first to determine appropriate chemistry.

NOTE: i portray Alastor as aromantic and asexual. this means that shipping will be largely one-sided as far as emotions go, but does NOT mean that he won't participate willingly. there are plenty of reasons besides attraction for partaking in such things.

  006.    no godmodding. please be respectful of me and my muses and don’t try to say anything or act as them. also, please bear in mind that mun ≠ muse, so their actions, thoughts, and behaviors may not match what i personally believe.

  007.   i do not necessarily practice "mains" or "exclusives" when it comes to writing partners unless we happen to write together very frequently. get to know my muse(s) first, and we'll see where things go!

[victorluvsalice]

-->To Moonwood Mill! Yeah, I was thinking that I hadn’t been there for a while, and it might be nice to go and visit again and let Alice work on some werewolf stuff. :) They of course started their grand day out at the local library/gym, where they all grabbed a nice werewolf-related book to read for starters (and Coty got a little weak at the knees looking at Smiler. XD Apparently that high reputation is making them VERY attractive!). Having fulfilled THAT want, Victor then got sent out to the observatory to look at the sky for a little while; Smiler hopped on the computer to play games; and Alice –

-->Well, Alice just couldn’t seem to decide on what she wanted to read, as she kept grabbing new books, getting a few pages in, then putting them away and getting more. XD I’ve had days like that, girl. I managed to stop the vicious cycle and instead had her, Smiler, and Victor hit the gym for a while for a little working out – after all, Alice enjoys keeping fit, and it was a good opportunity to work on that skill too! She ran on the treadmill (taking a little spill when she tried to start a hill challenge a bit too soon) while Smiler did some boxing and some lifting, and Victor struggled his way through a session on the weight machine. I did my best to boost them up by adding the “Bracing Breezes” lot trait to the place (along with “Peace & Quiet” and “Study Spot” to reflect the fact that, well, it IS primarily a library), but I don't know how much difference it made this particular session. Victor and Smiler eventually got tired and wandered off to do other things – I let Victor rest with a good book while Smiler got put on “filling the local pet bowls” duty – and eventually I stopped Alice’s run as I could see she was getting hungry. The problem was, I could also see Victor was getting hungry – and while Alice could easily transform and hunt for food, Victor was kind of dependent on getting something someone had COOKED. I thus started looking around for a barbecue or something in the immediate area –

-->And then looked at the bar just across the street, went “you know what, those serve food”, and had them swap lots right after Alice had swapped into her beast form! *thumbs up* I sent her out to hunt while Victor and Smiler hit the bar (and I hit the lot traits in Build/Buy to add “Great Acoustics,” “Convivial,” and “Party Place” to give it the right vibes). Victor ended up ordering a Blue Steak and a Wrench, while Smiler got their typical Plasma Jane, and they ended up chatting with the other two Sims hanging out at the bar – Akshara and Camille. Everyone was having a very good time –

-->And then Camille pressed her fingers against her forehead and Victor ended up getting brain-zapped! Guess who is an alien in disguise! O.O And guess who did that autonomous “memory-erasing” thing I hate so much. >( Fortunately all it did was make Victor forget the little relationship he’d built up with her – if she’d affected Victor’s memories of his actual partners, I might have just killed her.

-->And then, right before Alice returned from her hunt, a completely naked J. Huntington III showed up. For no reason. And when I say “completely naked,” I mean that – he didn’t even have the censor on for some reason! I’m not sure what disabled it, but there was a lot of naked man-butt in front of the bar. The local Sims were appropriately “what the everloving fuck, dude.” XD Even Alice, who was a little distracted by the scent of freshly-"found" steak when she first arrived, found herself shocked by all the naked flesh on display after she'd eaten. Fortunately, Smiler managed to introduce themselves after a little confusion and get him to put on some cold-weather clothing. *shakehead* Sims, man. Dunno what to tell you.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 5 - In Which I Anger a Sniffer Dog

I awoke in what would be the last private room I would occupy for the next few days, before my alarm sounded and suspiciously well rested. I had a relaxed breakfast of more of those refrigerated kinder things - I didn't get any prouder between the last entry and now - done the dishes because I am, as my Airbnb profile states, 'a clean, respectful and experienced traveller' and set off to the bus station for my return trip to Genoa. The fact that this was, originally, the first time I was supposed to be visiting the city was largely irrelevant.

I found the station and the appropriate stop with relative ease and with plenty of time to spare before my bus rolled in. What I could not find, however, was my seat once I was allowed on board. Seat 06D appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a toilet. I wouldn't be overly keen on spending two and a half hours in a toilet under the best of circumstances, but given this one was on a bus and how strongly it reeked of piss, it would, unfortunately, have to be a hard no from me. The big diva that I am.

Consequently, I slotted myself neatly into 06A, across the aisle, and simply hoped that this seat’s intended occupant was dead and eventually, mercifully, the intended departure time passed and the doors closed. 

"The perfect crime…" I mused to myself, chuckling out loud at my very pithy statement.

The bus juddered forward about one foot, before stopping again. The doors hissed open, a couple stepped on board and - of course - made a beeline directly to my seat. 

"Uh. You are in uhhh. Our…" the man of the couple gestured vaguely to the seat which I had already warmed. I sighed and removed myself, allowing this heat thief and his ugly girlfriend to claim my toasty bum patch for themselves. The absolute savages.

Fortunately, there was an empty (and cold) seat still remaining across the way, which I begrudgingly took; discovering in the process that the pervasive smell of piss wasn't actually emanating from the toilet, but the woman seated, now, directly in front of me. What an absolute treat.

After very quickly realising that my plan to do the entire two and a half hour trip in three - maybe four - big breaths was a non-starter, I relented and settled down, resigning myself to breathing in her feculence for the foreseeable.

The bus pootled along without incident for a spell, before we finally pulled into the border control point between France and Italy, where my attention was snapped away from blogsmithing by the yapping of an angry drugs dog. 

"Ho ho ho…" I thought, unintentionally matching the season with my inward display of schadenfreude, "someone's in for a grilling."

I allowed myself a moment to savour the forthcoming drama

"...wait a second, that's my bag."

We were all filed off the bus and made to stand next to our own luggage - presumably in an effort not to embarrass me, specifically - before the policemen singled out me, specifically, and took me, specifically aside for questioning.

"You got any 'asheesh or marajuana in-a your bag?"

"...no." I replied, truthfully, because even if I was a big drugs boy, I definitely wouldn't have tried to smuggle it over an international border. I'm not mental.

The guard's eyes narrowed.

"You got any drug?"

"No." I replied, secretly enjoying the idea that he thought I might have tried to trick him by truthfully responding only to his very specific question about weed, rather than just lying outright.

"Medicine?"

"Oh. Yes." 

I opened my bag and showed him my substantial collection of nasal sprays and inhalers. His eyes narrowed further. He pointed to the other compartment of my bag.

"You got drugs in there. They gonna be a problem for you."

"...No, I don't." I replied, bluntly. 

His eyes, now so narrow they were basically closed, scrunched together harder still. A beat passed. Then all of a sudden, his face shot back to normal.

"Okay." He shot me a thumbs up and gestured back to the bus.

"...what? I can go?" I asked, admittedly quite suspiciously

"Si!" He said cheerily as he waved me on.

…Fair enough, then. His cross-examination seemed a little lax if he did indeed suspect I might be carrying several gallons of 'asheesh, but to be honest, but I wasn't about to demand to have my orifices checked, so I dutifully clambered back aboard, looking forward to the reefer style drugs spliff Doobie I could now still enjoy, later. The fool.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, if slow (if I'm ever on a Flixbus that arrives at the correct time I will literally eat one of my fingers and I demand you hold me to that) And eventually I was spat back out into Genoa's """"""bus station"""""", which you may remember I thought was shit, from an entry a few days ago.

Fuck you, this place.

It hadn't gotten any less shit over the previous couple of days, so I left it quickly to explore the city, while I waited for my shitty little dorm bed to be readied by the hostel in which I was staying the night.

Genoa is rather a return to form of my typical description of Mediterranean seaside towns. Not quite full of animal corpses and trash, but it certainly had a scummy, cynical, almost predatory feel to it. Sort of like Blackpool, but a Blackpool where you have to be on constant high alert so as not to get abducted and trafficked into sexual slavery.

I was still half an hour early For my allotted check-in time, by the point I had reached the doors of my hostel, but decided to chance it anyway, because, in the words of Rage Against The Machine, "my back hurts and I want to put my bag down, please.".

As it turned out, I was not allowed to check in, but I *was* allowed to put my bag down, which was actually what I wanted anyway, actually, so hah. I win.

With more time to kill, I ventured back into the city and decided to have a go at the Aquarium of Genoa; the promotional material for which boasting proudly that it was the largest in Europe - It’s not, by the way. Even the scantest bit of research can tell you otherwise, but it’s fun to think about, eh? Still, it was quite big, so I thought I'd give it a go anyway.

The aquarium was, I have to admit, really a very good one, although undeniably an experience that translates better to pictures than prose

I mean how do you describe this?

I was however slightly less thrilled than I was by the rest, by the inclusion of both manatees

Oh, ello.

And dolphins

Click, click, whistle.

In their collection. Neither animal seemed especially happy, nor suited for a life of captivity, though what could I - a single, handsome, powerful man - do to aid them? Nothing. That's what. I did think about it though, so in many ways I am a hero. You're welcome.

I ambled, slowly, around the aquarium for the next few hours, having an uncharacteristically great time, pausing from my joy only briefly to eat what objectively had to be the worst sandwich I have ever consumed in my life in the adjoining cafeteria

This is literally just salami in a stale baguette. No salad, no butter, no sauce. Nothing. It was the driest thing I have ever eaten and I have eaten sand, out of spite, before.

Before, having had my fill of fish and getting all a bit tired, I decided to return to my hostel, via a local supermarket.

Living in a hostel is very shit, though as far as hostels go, I did have to admit that this one was pretty okay. Plug sockets situated right next to the bed; a little modesty curtain to protect your privacy and…actually, no, that was it. That's all that you need to make a hosteling experience better. I wonder why so few places actually do it. My dorm-mates were abnormally quiet and respectful, too, making this blog entry substantially more dull than it could have been, though my night, substantially more pleasant. So pleasant were they, in fact, that they made up for the very loud, awful people occupying the kitchen, situated directly outside of my room. Not wanting to wade through the mouth breathing chuds that occupied it and the haze of their uniquely asinine brand of conversation, I elected to be very brave and eat a cold focaccia in my bunk while glaring vaguely in their direction behind my the safety of my curtain, before bunkering down and enjoying an absolutely adequate night of sleep, knowing that the morning would bring all the joys of the Flixbus, once more.

[moonfeatherquill]

PAMPHLET-MAKING MATERIALS

Literally any paper, for filler

Cover paper, meaning a stiffer paper at least as large as your other paper. Or cardstock, or a cereal box, or anything you wanna play with. I've chosen linen-textured scrapbooking paper.*

A bone folder is best, but a butter knife or a thick ruler is fine

Thread, preferably thicker than hand-sewing thread, but honestly that’ll still work. Embroidery floss would also work. I like size 8 pearl cotton, which is cheap and comes in lots of colors.

A needle appropriate to your thread

An awl**

A ruler

Scissors or thread clippers. If you need to trim your cover paper, you can use those scissors or a paper cutter or a craft knife and self-healing cutting pad.

*A cover is actually optional. If all you want to do is elevate a zine or handout with a personal touch, you can skip the cover and just do the hand-stitching. **If you don’t have one, I’m sure you can get creative with your needle and do okay, but it really is easier with an awl.

Most bookbinding starter guides will tell you that you need a lot more and more specialized stuff than this, and they will also wax poetic about paper grain, but don’t worry about that. We’re making a pamphlet.

If you want to spend like $10, you can get a bookbinding starter kit with more than you even need right now. Here’s the one I got a while back.

Get your filler paper. If it’s thin paper, your pamphlet can fit quite a few sheets without looking too bulky or refusing to lay right. What I have here is slightly thicker than cheap copy paper, and I’m using 10 sheets. If you fold yours and don’t like how it looks, just remove some outer sheets until you are happy. No harm done!

Now, take your paper and lightly fold it in half crosswise to make a book shape. If you want it to look extra nice, tap it on your work surface so it’s all square, then let it fan out juuuust a little bit when you lift the short edge before you grip it together.(A) When you fold a pile of paper this way, you get a little point that looks fancy.(C) If you keep one edge square, their other edges will have a more dramatic fall-off. But that’s still fine and will work!

Use your bone folder or butter knife to set the fold. Press it into the middle of your fold and press outward from there, returning the center before pressing out the other direction.(B) This is less likely to cause drift in your fold. Look how crisp it is compared to hand-pressing! You can go over it again with your bone folder if you want.

Open your paper up and lay a ruler against the crease. Use it and the awl to punch a hole in the very center and a hole about a half inch from the top and bottom, making three total holes. You can pre-mark the hole locations in pencil or just go straight to the awl.(D) Do not stab the awl into your table, however. Place a cutting mat or some cardboard or a junk magazine underneath to protect it.

Next, fold your stiffer paper in half in a direction that’s logical for making a cover, but don’t crisp the fold with a bone folder. It has to wrap around the outermost sheet of filler paper, which is the least crisp one, and they won’t nest as well if the cover is so severe.

If you need to trim your cover paper, now is a good time. I recommend making it about 4mm taller than your filler and measuring out about 3mm from the fore-edge to trim that.(E)

Notes about cutting: First, I measured where I wanted my edges to be and punched in some marks with my knife. Then, I removed the filler paper, flipped the cover over, and used those holes as a set point to line up my ruler with the help of a square.(F) I could have also measured things and cut them with a paper cutter, or penciled in a line and used scissors. Do what makes you most comfortable; just be aware that cutting things square is, to some (me), the most maddening aspect of bookbinding. It's okay if it's not perfect!

Center the filler inside your cover, then put the awl through the holes you made earlier to pierce the cover.(G) For extra neatness points, put the awl through the cover holes (but not the filler paper holes) again, from the outside, to smooth out the spine.

Now thread your needle with thread that's about three times as long as your pamphlet is tall, just to be safe.

Starting from outside the spine, pass the needle through the top hole, then out the middle. Pass it into the bottom hole and out the middle again, being careful not to pierce the thread that’s already there. (That will make tightening everything difficult). Tighten up your thread until it’s taut but not straining and tie the ends of your thread together.(H,I)

If your cover was the same size as your paper, and you don’t like that the paper is sticking out at the fore-edge, you can use a ruler and a craft knife (and, ideally, a square) to cut that whole edge flush. Just push down hard with your ruler and cut along it, making several passes until you’re through all layers of paper.

You’re done! You have made a pamphlet!

Now you can decorate it if you want! If you leave some extra thread, you can put beads on it or braid it all pretty. You can draw or paint on the cover. Or put a sticker on it, or use a foil quill. Have fun with it! For this one, I did beads and some Cricut-assisted papercraft. Cat silhouette courtesy of Mungang Kim of the Noun Project.

Did you make a mistake? You probably learned something, and without the stress of ruining a long, printed manuscript or a fancy covering material.

If you liked doing this, consider what other materials might be fun to experiment with.

If you’re eager to move to more complex bindings, may I suggest a criss-cross binding or Coptic binding? Or some other varieties of pamphlet! Do you want words printed into your pamphlet? Look up “imposition” in bookbinding or watch this space for another tutorial.

Make a pamphlet

Tons of people are realizing that you can make books at home, a fact that totally floored me two years ago when I found out about it. Is that you? You should make a pamphlet!

Sometimes, people show up to the bookbinding community and ask something like, “I would like to bind a 100,000-word fan fiction into an heirloom object/gift. Where do I start?” You should start by making a pamphlet.

I think some of them don’t like hearing that, and I think I understand why. They are not approaching bookbinding as a hobby to learn and explore; they want a DIY project that will result in An Object. But this isn’t like when I painted my shutters, and all I needed was a paint sprayer, some fasteners, a chisel, and YouTube to get me going. For most folks, it’s more like if you wanted to design and build a shed from scratch, and you’d never held a saw. Why not draw up and make a little firewood shelter out of cheap lumber first?

Why not make a pamphlet?

Now, if you are coming from a strong crafter background, and especially if you already do a lot of papercraft or chipboard box-making, you can admittedly skip the pamphlet phase. But should you?

Pamphlets are cheap! Quick! Fun! Pamphlets and other simple bindings let you play with tools, materials, and techniques without expending excessive time or precious materials. You probably have everything you need already. Bookbinding is a craft with dozens of best practices and rules of thumb and recommended materials, and each one is negotiable. If you truly understand the importance of a given recommendation or standard, you can decide how much it’s worth to you and your projects. If you’re a novice crafter, you’ll quickly figure out if this fussy paper-bending nonsense is enjoyable for you at all–without buying a bunch of tools you may not use again. If you’re experienced, you’ll have a quick win, get to play with new kinds of paper, and see how different materials work together.

And you can explore how to decorate books! 

So please, if you’re even curious about bookbinding, make a pamphlet.

I’ll even tell you how. With pictures!

[lepussolum]

          @fabulumn​​ (ft. Verona)  ━ starter.

          𝙰 𝚟𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 ━ hush ━ as though the calm before the storm. Uniform soldiers that awaited their orders; the black and white ranks stood at the ready. Reverently raised mere inches above the intricately placed keys, two hands remained poised for their performance. The air about the small apartment room seemed to vibrate with quiet anticipation, though a single note had yet to be played. Within that all-encompassing silence only the gentle release of breath permeated the air. A sigh nigh imperceptible were it not for the otherwise vacant state of the tiny rec room. The space itself was sparsely decorated, walls painted a pristine white that seemed perpetually spattered in fiery hues from the sky beyond the far windows. A few boxes were scattered to corners here and there, the tell-tale signs of one recently moved ━ or perhaps merely reluctant to settle down out of fear of IMPERMANENCE . 

          Solitary, a grand piano sat as the only fixture of furniture within the room. Glossy black hardwood reflected the perpetual sunset beyond the glass panes; an indefinitely fading light which seeped through sets of sheer drapery. The gauzy fabrics rippled in the subtle breeze that crept through the open windows which they framed.  Almost teasingly, the gust drifted about to bristle past sapphire locks and set them in a playful dance about the figure to which they accompanied. Perched upon the cushioned seat, he allowed the solemn presence of the space to fill him ━ to inspire. It was a fragile sense of peace, a fleeting daydream that could shatter with the slightest disturbance. His fingers flexed, eager to take their rightful place up the keys that stretched within his reach. 

         An nearly picturesque setting lay before those oceanic eyes ━ begging to be accompanied with a MELODY.

          There was a sort of hesitancy as a single finger fell upon an alabaster key. The note rang through the air, familiar to the ear despite years out of practice. Another followed, and soon yet another until a slow and steady song filled the void. Reminiscent, yet not quite right.

          Perhaps I’ve truly lost my touch...

          The melancholic thought echoed through the confines of the former Nobody’s mind. Though the simple tune stirred memories of a life before the DARKNESS, Isa could not quite find the flourish he was once accustomed to. Logic told him years of neglecting to further nurture his hobby left him rusty, but paranoia spoke otherwise. Could one lose their previous talents upon having their heart torn away? Music had always been a source of solace for him, a sanctuary for the emotions he otherwise keeps carefully tucked away. Upon his restoration, Isa had been determined to make the acquisition of a piano a top priority. Now that his goal had been achieved, the diviner found himself somewhat disappointed to see just how far his skills had faded. Memory replayed old arrangements within his head, yet his fingers felt almost stiff in their response. 

          Feathery lashes fell to grace his fine cheeks as Isa merely allowed muscle memory to take control. Lengthy digits lightly ran across the line of keys without a sound, blindly becoming reacquainted through touch alone. Like old friends, he could recognize each key’s unique placement ━ picture them within his mind’s eye. Yet, try though he might, his fingers refused to take their proper place in a timely manner for the chosen song. Each note fell forced, if not sour in its approach. Something Isa could not quite put a name to was missing and with each passing moment his frustration grew. After his umpteenth attempt an irritated huff bellowed from his nose, lips set in a tight grimace. In a display which lacked his usual decorum, Isa folded his arms upon the keyboard with an unceremonious plop. His head quickly followed to mask his features marred with annoyance behind a sheet of tousled azure tresses. The motion let out a jarring collection of notes as the key whined beneath the weight of his person. Though his ears rang in protest to the noise, Isa could hardly find the will to care beyond his otherwise preoccupied thoughts.

          Could my heart have not...fully restored?  Or are those lingering fragments of my past self hindering its development?

          Years devoted to studying the workings of the heart within Organization XIII could not provide him with answers to his musings which he so desperately sought. The heart that now settled warmly inside his chest would flutter at the slightest emotion ━ a fledgling bird so eager to take flight. Isa could not recall having this degree of emotional volatility since his youth, thus, in a sense his heart remained juvenile as well. Unable to rest, perhaps that was why he could not connect to music through the same PASSION he once had as a child. Remnants of his life as a Nobody plagued his thoughts constantly to set that tender light in a blinding frenzy of emotion. A distinct lack of focus and overwhelming sense of doubt tainted the serenity he once found through music.

          Mournfully, Isa lifted himself from his slouch upon his prized piano, gaze downcast to the silver pedals beneath his boots. On numerous occasions during his time within the Organization he would contemplate what life would be like with his heart restored. At first they were little more than trifle idealizations ━ impossible, no doubt, but a means to idle the hours away within The Castle That Never Was. Yet somewhere within those foolish musings a seed of optimism took root that refused to be trampled. Saix began to hope that the peaceful days in the Radiant Garden of his youth ━ before his apprenticeship, before Xehanort or Nobodies ━ would return. After all, this had been his primary goal with Lea from the start, alongside rescuing Subject X. Now, alone in his apartment tucked away in Twilight Town he knew that to be nothing more than a passing FANTASY.

          Once something is truly lost, I suppose one can never see its return. At least not ever quite the same.

          Gone was the bright-eyed boy of his early years ━ nose buried in a book and hands which danced across piano keys ━ who feigned reluctance to follow alongside his free-spirited friend. What had been revived was a man still haunted by the ghosts of his past, eagerly attempting to piece a life back together and find purpose once more. It was difficult to find the inspiration his music so desperately craved within that grim reality. Isa thought that in pursuit of some semblance of a stable life in Twilight Town he would find closure, yet here he remained: hesitant and wracked with doubt at his loss of self. 

          Tearing his gaze away from the floor below, Isa fixed his sights on the vibrant sunset that painted the sky beyond his tiny apartment. Tree-shrouded mountains spilled as far as the eye could see beneath the heavens. Weaving over the sloping terrain, one could see the thin rail of train tracks which carried a locomotive along its journey. The sight was certainly preferable to the sterile architecture and endless night that plagued his prior surroundings. Overhead, the brilliant palette that dappled the clouds helped to ease the storm within his heart. This was REALITY. Perhaps not quite what he had anticipated, but not unfavorable and certainly preferable to his life as a Nobody. A second chance that he now knew better than to waste. 

          As if of their own mind, a hand reached for the keys once more as his eyes remained fixed upon the world beyond his window. A simple arrangement of notes began to flow, no particular song in mind. It was an improvised melody to accompany the never-dying light of his new home world. Each note flowed without care of fumble or folly in an assortment that made sense of its own accord. It was not until Isa sought to delve into a harmony with his free hand that he finally withdrew his gaze from the window. However, before he could focus back on the instrument beneath his fingers, an unexpected presence vied for his attention. The appearance seemed so abrupt that Isa completely faltered in his performance, immediately halting his motions along the keys.

          ❝ Verona...? ❞