#I reblogged this post with the rest of the story

[hederasgarden]

Memorias

Summary: Late at night you and Lucius share memories of the lives you once lived.  Pairing: Lucius Verus x F!Reader Word Count: 1.1K Rating: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of spousal death, some humor and grief.  A/N: This story is part of Lucius and the Fisherman's Wife series. It takes place between Ab Initio and Post tenebras lux. Thank you to my dearest B and @ryebecca for looking this over. Inspired by this ask. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Gladiator Masterlist ♡ Masterlist

It's late, and the cool autumn evening seeps into the small cell you share with Lucius, bringing with it a chill that settles in your bones. From your place on the narrow cot, you watch him cup the flickering candle flame and extinguish it with his breath, plunging the room into a hazy, blue-tinged darkness. The bed dips and creaks as he sits, removing his sandals. You turn onto your other side, facing the wall to make room for him to slide in behind you. It’s a tight fit in a bed meant for one person. 

His bulk shifts the bed as he settles and his arm drapes across your side and stomach. You sigh, grateful for his warmth. The first time you’d shared a bed like this had been awkward and tense, your sleep restless and uneasy. The only person you’d ever been so close to in this way was your husband, and it had felt wrong to have Lucius so near. But the past few months had altered so much, and though you'd never admit it aloud, you find comfort in his closeness, in his touch. It’s a silent reminder that you’re not alone anymore.

You both adjust yourselves a few more times before finding a position that offers some comfort, even as the straw of the bed jabs into your skin and the thin, threadbare blanket provides little warmth. As you begin to drift off, Lucius's breath stirs the back of your head, soft and uneven. Then, a groan escapes him, a low sound of pain from the brutal toll the arena has taken on his body. You reach back instinctively, your fingers grazing his hip in a silent question.

"I am well," he reassures you, his voice rough but steady.

You fall silent again, blinking sleepily at the wall, but after a moment, his voice breaks the stillness. "You have been quiet today," he observes.

You don’t answer him at first, weighing whether to share your thoughts. You know that if you brush him off, he won’t push. He’ll leave you alone, but tonight, you find, you don’t want that.

"The memories are...close today," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucius shifts behind you, moving to wrap his thick fingers around your forearm where it rests against the bed. The gentle pressure of his touch brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly blink them away,

"Tell me about them," he says, his tone gentle. “If you wish.”

“I do not know where to start,” you admit. 

"Something happy, perhaps?"

You exhale slowly, his suggestion tugging an unexpected memory to the surface.

"I was not always a fisherman’s wife," you begin, your gaze fixed on the uneven stone wall. "I was a merchant's daughter, destined for a different life. But then...I met him."

The thought of your husband is both painful and beautiful. He seems so young in your memories, even though you only lost him a short time ago. 

“I was never supposed to marry someone like him,” you continue. “But I loved him. Gods…” You let out a soft, watery laugh, a mix of sorrow and affection. “And his family took me in like I was theirs all along.”

Lucius’s fingers trace the soft skin of your wrist in a comforting, quiet gesture that urges you to continue.

"I knew nothing about mending nets, or preparing and cooking fish, but they taught me everything. One night..." You pause, a lump forming in your throat as the memory comes back in sharp detail, the simple joy of it nearly too much to bear. "I wanted to make dinner for everyone. To show my thanks. I spent hours preparing the fish, the sides, everything. But..." You hesitate, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. "I was not exactly the best at deboning the fish, you see..."

"You left a few bones in?" Lucius’s voice is soft, a teasing edge to it. 

“More than a few,” you admit with a laugh. "Not that anyone said anything at the time. They just quietly spat them out. I did not find out until later when he told me. I was mortified."

Lucius chuckles, a masculine, rich sound. “Perhaps I should humble myself with a story of my own,” he suggests, his tone light. “If only to make you feel better.”

“Oh, yes. That would certainly help,” you reply, turning over to face him. 

You’re close enough that your nose brushes against his, and you both breathe the same air. Your hands curl instinctively against your chest while his rests firmly on your hip. Your legs have tangled together and yet neither of you pulls away. There’s no discomfort in this closeness, it’s nothing compared to the intimacy you’re compelled to share during the day to sell your lie.

“It was when I was courting Arishat,” Lucius begins, his voice dipping into a more serious tone, though there’s still a glint of humor in it. “I was young, hardly yet a man. But I wanted to prove to her, and her family, that I was worthy. The problem was, I knew nothing of farming.” He pauses. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Oh?” You question, waiting for him to continue. 

“I rose early, before anyone else so I could complete all the chores by myself. I fed the chickens, collected the eggs, and saw to it that the pigs were well cared for. I even thought to milk the goat. But there was one problem. I did not know the difference between a male goat and a female one.”

To your surprise, a laugh bubbles up from your chest, one you quickly stifle with a hand over your mouth. Your shoulders shake and a rush of something light and airy courses through you, a feeling that’s both foreign and welcome after all this time.

“Arishat got a good laugh out of it too,” Lucius says, sounding aggrieved though you know he’s likely just as amused. It’s too dark to see his expression clearly, but you catch the flash of his teeth and know he’s smiling at the memory.

The two of you lapse into silence after his story, and without thinking, you shift closer. Lucius responds instinctively, pulling you in, his palm settling gently between your shoulder blades as he rolls on to his back. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Sharing the memories of your husband feels oddly comforting; each time you do, he seems a bit less distant, his presence warmer, more alive. It’s as painful as it is reassuring. You blink away the emotion that stirs in your chest and exhale, the heaviness easing just a little. No matter the horrors the daylight hours might bring, you know that you and Lucius will always have these moments to hold onto.

♡

My inbox is open for your thoughts on this story, requests for drabbles with Lucius and further scenes with Lucius and the Fisherman's Wife

[respectthepetty]

"but go off i guess." <- Thanks for the invite! I will!

The line that connects The Heart Killers and The Taming of the Shrew exists, so Jojo would say it, because it's true. But I also think he would say that so he doesn't have to pay a royalty fee since Shakespeare's work (compared to a more recent movie) doesn't fall under copyright law. But regardless of copyrights and fees, that doesn't negate that his show is based off of the play.

But it also doesn't mean it's not a retelling of the movie that is based off the play. It goes beyond parallels much like modern retellings of Cinderella are based off of the Disney movie version rather than the Grimm version, the French version, or the ancient Chinese version. Cinderella as we know her looks very different than the Cinderella in the older stories. We need that middle Disney version to understand Cinderella as we have her now.

And that's what I'm stating - Style is not Petruchio.

You're right that it would be an uphill battle for a modern retelling to make Petruchio as awful as he was in the original source, so that's how we ended up with Patrick.

Who gave us Style.

One day, we might get another Petruchio, like we might get a version of Cinderella where her father is alive as he was in the original French story instead of dead like the Disney version, but until then, we are getting versions of Patrick and the rest of the 10 Things characters rather than direct descendants of the Shrew.

So with actual respect for you, I'm not making an argument. I was simply taking a stance that I now clearly understand you disagree with. I apologize for liking your thoughts and reblogging your post with my own thoughts. It won't happen again.

was gonna say this in the tags of my last taming parallel but i think this actually warrants a post of its own. i think the thing that makes style a lovable character despite being based on such a horrific character is the fact that he’s not solely based on petruchio. he’s also based heavily on tranio, who if you’re unaware, is lucentio’s servant and dear friend. so, while he has the boldness and shamelessness of petruchio, he has tranio’s unwavering loyalty and hopefulness. honestly, i’d argue he’s more based on tranio than he is petruchio, because petruchio at his core is an inherently cruel character, whereas tranio is inherently kind, which fits style far better. i’d even argue that kant parallels petruchio far closer than style (not a dig at kant! its just that kant has the ability to be cruel and calculated when he needs to be because his hand has been forced, whereas style inherently just doesn’t have that in him).

i also think it’s interesting because style stands out from the others in a number of ways, not simply because of his hopefulness but because (to our current knowledge) he’s not a criminal. which is an interesting parallel because lucentio, bianca, and katherine all have a higher status, while tranio is a servant and therefore distinct from them. additionally, tranio’s plot in taming is that he is disguised as lucentio for most of the show, and i think that sort of parallels style needing to become a police informant by association in a way.

[mightydyke]

This is a short story from the manga Children of the Whales by Abi Umeda. It appears at the end of volume 7 but you don't need to have read any of the manga or know the plot to understand it. It's such a beautiful story that makes me so emotional. Trigger warnings for injury and mentions of death and torture. You can read this manga for free here.

[sergle]

I really truly, from the bottom of my heart, hate you bitches so much, because on the tiktok of literally COCK AND BALL jokes w brittany broski, there were a few notes/messages like this:

And I KNOW you don't think anyone's going to check. You had someone go into your askbox and say "hiii brittany broski is shitty about palestine she's really ignorant :/" and you went oh omg I didn't know!! thanks for telling me! So I checked! This is in reference to her talking in her podcast, because people were asking why she hadn't done any big press statements about Palestine, you didn't retweet this or that, you must not care, don't you care, what's your stance, etc etc please say more OKAY COOL. So what's going on there? What did Brittany say on her podcast? Is she a Bad Person? Can I have some transcript, please? ____ "Hey guys, before we get into this week's episode, I want to talk to you about the ongoing and prolonged suffering and loss of life in Gaza, in Israel, and the oppression of Palestinian people widespread. I don't ever want it to be a question that I would ever not be against the oppression of any group of people, that I would ever stand on the side of the oppressor." "There was a lot of fear of misusing my platform." ... "I will admit that I was nervous to talk about it, because I don't want to say the wrong thing. And this is too fucking serious of an issue to misspeak, or to spread misinformation, or to speak over or for someone." ... "So I want to take a moment on my biggest platform- which is this podcast, to say that I stand with the people of Palestine, I stand for the liberation of Palestinian people." ... "Every day, to log on to social media, and be just inundated with graphic, unimaginable violence, and loss, and grief, it's just--There are no words." ... "And I feel helpless. That's part of it too, when you feel helpless, the last thing you want to do is talk to people about it-- but visibility is a resource in and of itself. And I can offer that." ... "The outpouring of rage and passion online, and anger at what's happening, I would argue needs to be dedicated and focused on our elected officials. We live in a democracy- albeit an inherently flawed one- we live in a democracy where we have elected officials who were elected and put in power to represent us, and if we feel misrepresented, if we feel underrepresented in foreign affairs? These officials have public phone numbers and emails. There are scripts available online to express your disdain and your rage, and unfortunately that's one of the only ways we'll see actionable change."   "If you expected more from me, it's a terrible feeling- but I don't want to center myself, this needs to be all eyes on Palestine right now, where the real activism is happening. I would encourage you to follow journalists that are on the ground, people who are in Gaza, we need to be listening to them. I would also hope that we're at a point in this conversation where I can express my desire to stand in solidarity with the people of Palestine and that NOT meaning or suggesting or condoning anti-Semitism of any kind. There's a rise of anti-Semitism and islamophobia in the United States and it's just-- it's disgusting, and it's scary, so I want that to be said too. I just wanted to share that I am experiencing part of this collective sense of helplessness and hopelessness-- but it DOESN'T HAVE to be hopeless. I'm going to include a phone number in the description of this episode where, if you don't know the name of your senators or your Congressman, it's never too late to learn, and you can reach out to them." _______ Hm. What a bitch!! Yeah, just so ignorant and uncaring. Obviously she's not keeping up with anything. Should've retweeted more shit ig!

[louisaguy]

it’s so frustrating when you see a post that you totally agree with and then you get to the end and OP is like “so that’s why im smart and everyone else is stupid” and it’s like well. i was with you up until now but now i don’t want to engage with this.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Fic idea: Before or during his Red Hood plan. A returned from the pit Jason Todd is determined to make it to his high school senior prom

WAIT EVEN BETTER, It'd be longer and harder to write but I really like the idea of Jason just casually going to highschool too, and maybe it leads up to the prom. He just shows back up one day. Does something that manages to keep media attention off of him. Would it be before Red Hood? would it encourage him to not don the helmet? Would he do it while Red Hooding? Would he finally get to join an after school theater club?

[il3x]

s.so the great tale of how i ruined it all is a ryujin coded album (pianist in opposition to a society that forces him into a heavily uniform, militaristic role, vengeance) and beginner's guid e is. [i falter for a minute as the truth hits me but plough forward] sayeon coded on account of pressure adn d perfectionism and long delayed consequences for your actions,

[theplantbish]

It's been six days since I saw K should I maybe edit those photos already.....

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning! <3

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

I sincerely hope u won’t stop after UV 0.8 Part 1, so close to the finale.

UV/XT has always been one of my favorite series’s (literally bought the full bundle zine and I hope to still be able to buy the the stake comic and other stuff in the future), and I would love to see a proper end to the series in 0.8 Part 2.

I also love ur finished and ongoing XTale comics very much.

And u have algae always been a really inspiring creator and one of my favorite UT creators so I would hate to see you fully leave.

Saying that, I understand if u want to take a break/step away (for awhile).

I just hope ti see the last of UV at least someday if u do And the rest of ur ongoing XTale comic(s). Since I do truly adore and love ur work so much.

I also hope u come back to UT and stuff someday too if u decide ti take a break/leave.

And that u don’t step away from YT forever and that the stuff o there says. Because ur stuff is awesome and I’m a huge fan of urs.

I hope u don’t need to. Or at least not fully(from UT, UV/XT, YT, etc.). It is good to try to curate ur online experience, and take breathers and stuff.

Have a good day/night! I hope u feel better.

And still excited for more UT/UV/XT stuff from u when/if u are able.

“I'll make an announcement when the trailer/full episode will be released.”

Cool, thank you. Genuinely very excited. Just hope it is not the last episode. Or the last UT/XT/UV thing in general. Because this stuff is awesome.

Take it easy.

ENGLISH: Underverse 0.8 part 1 might be the last Underverse episode I publish. I'm done with the toxicity, the hypocrisy, and the bias. I give up trying to explain that I'm not a monster, I just wanted to have fun with a video game that made me happy. I'm not sure if I'll come back or want to make content on YouTube anymore, I'll have to take a long break after this, find another job, I don't know, stay ayaw from all this. Every year, it's the same thing, and I don't feel comfortable in this fandom anymore. I'm not mentally okay. I'm done pretending all this hate is not affecting me. Maybe if I step aside, these people will get the attention they've been wishing for, since there won't be that person and her work they hate so much. They feel I shouldn't have gotten an opportunity in the first place and that they could've done way better, as if this fandom were a competition. Or they'll just find another target to turn into a pariah. I'll make an announcement when the trailer/full episode will be released. ESPAÑOL:

Underverse 0.8 parte 1 podría ser el último episodio de Underverse que publique. Estoy harta de la toxicidad, la hipocresía y los prejuicios.

Me rindo tratando de explicar que no soy un monstruo, solo quería divertirme con un videojuego que me hacía feliz. No estoy segura si volveré o si querré hacer contenido en YouTube nuevamente. Tendré que tomarme un largo descanso después de esto, buscar otro trabajo, no sé, alejarme de todo esto.

Cada año es lo mismo, y ya no me siento cómoda en este fandom. No estoy bien mentalmente. Estoy cansada de fingir que todo este odio no me afecta.

Tal vez si me hago a un lado, estas personas obtendrán la atención que tanto han deseado, ya que no estará esa persona y su trabajo que tanto odian, que sienten que no debería haber tenido una oportunidad en primer lugar y que podrían haberlo hecho mucho mejor, como si este fandom se tratase de una competencia. O simplemente encontrarán otro objetivo para convertir en un paria.

Haré un anuncio cuando el tráiler/ episodio completo esté listo para ser publicado.

[blam-marie]

A Metaphor's Guide to Rewriting Destiny

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We hurried to the hotel’s coach house, where we took one of the nondescript carriages that were used to ferry around paying guests at their convenience. Our same coachman as on the first night took the reins and Jeanne, perhaps having gotten into her head that she ought to keep an eye on me, begged us to wait as she changed into her footman attire before catching up to us outside.

Compassion and two of the scholars climbed inside of the cabin after me. There was an air of heavy expectation as the carriage rumbled over cobblestones as we undertook our journey. The men tried to draw me into conversation but I did not have the patience for it. I shut them down and they lapsed into tense silence.

Sat on the seat facing mine, Compassion watched me with dark, pensive eyes. We had never been companions but I had tried to kill him many times, and we kept aware of each other’s work. This situation was unlike either of us. But few knew what I did outside of the times when Walls actively deployed me as their Rage, and few believed the rumors of what Compassion got up to outside of the sanctuary of the various temples and monasteries where he kept incarnating. That was because they did not understand what Compassion truly was. I did. I had asked myself the day before, when wondering how he had known how to take down a magical barrier, ‘compassion for whom’. That was a flawed question. The answer was ‘yes’. It was ‘everyone’, or ‘whoever happened to be in front of him at any given moment’. Regardless of who that person actually was.

I was not surprised that he was involved in this brewing revolution. What surprised me was that he was not involved more. He did not care about politics but he cared very, very much that people were suffering.

Unfortunately, here and now, it was me that he was focused on. My suffering which he sought to diminish or ease. I clenched my hands into fists and stared out of the window. I didn’t want this. It would have been better for everyone if he had cut me loose at the gate of the Lighthouse and turned his purpose towards those who actually wanted him. I was keeping him from them now. I was restless under his attention. I never should have pushed him into the cell and extracted his promise to help.

I closed my eyes. I tried to remind myself that I was doing this for Astoria, that I owed her this at least. I tried to lie to myself that there was still something that I could do for her, that my efforts were not too little and far too late. It didn’t help.

I wished that I could simply set this city ablaze with everyone in it and never have to look upon it and its misery ever again. There was a time when I would have. When torching vast swatches of land instead of pretending to be a nice little civilized Exemplar who played by the rules was an option that was open to me. But not anymore. The world had gotten too complicated. I had made too many ties, gathered too many stories to keep locked behind my breast, safe from the world and the passage of time.

I had gotten soft. And tired.

This exhaustion was exactly what made Compassion so dangerous to me. His purpose was the end of mine, and therefore it was he that would be the end of me, some day. This had not been prophesized, nor was it written down anywhere for anyone to see. But I knew it, and I suspected that he did too.

After three thousand years I was well aware by now that my destiny was set in stone, and could not be rewritten by will nor stubbornness alone. There were some who believed that Anydrite was not truly gone, and that one day she would return and call back her aspects to her, and that this would be the end of the Exemplars. Others believed that if only the three hundred of us could just gather at the same place at the same time, then our powers would be pulled out of us and she would be re-formed. But these were ridiculous and fanciful notions, formed by minds who had not been suited to immortality and strained under its weight.

We were nearing our destination. As our carriage slowed down, I set my jaw and told myself firmly that whatever end awaited me, today was not that day. I caught Compassion’s eyes again. He seemed to sense my renewed resolve, for it was he who lowered his gaze now.

We rolled to a stop in front of some manner of factory. The door opened, and Compassion turned to our boy leader.

“I will speak to the workers here. Don’t wait up.”

He stepped out. Then a tall man in faded clothes emerged from the factory’s shadowed doorway. He exchanged a nod with the Exemplar and climbed up into our carriage to take his place. Jeanne closed the door firmly behind him. We felt the coach dip as she climbed back onto her perch at the rear. The two scholars greeted the man, who seemed rather exasperated with them. He shot me and intrigued look, but as no one had yet introduced me, he chose instead to sit next to our charismatic blonde leader. He removed his hat and ran a hand over his bald head.

“I appreciate your kindness in bringing me to the train station,” he began before anyone could say anything. “But if this is another attempt at convincing me, I will remind you that my position is perfectly clear—”

“The situation has changed,” interrupted the leader of our cause.

“Jean-François...” cautioned the other scholar under his breath.

Jean-François twitched a hand towards him, as if ordering him to settle down and let him work.

“I apologize for being so candid,” he told the man whom I assumed was Ambreville, “but we will not gain anything by hiding behind manners and double-speak.”

The other man sighed. “Speak plainly then. What exactly has happened that is so important that it could change my decision?”

Jean-François and the other scholar turned to me then and waited. Perhaps they thought that I would speak, or at the very least lift my veil. I did no such thing. I had been a propaganda piece for longer than they both had been alive. I knew how best to play my part. I raised my chin and tilted my head to the light coming through the window, knowing that the glow of my inhuman golden eyes would shine through the dark fabric.

Ambreville noticed, and his expression fell into frank astonishment.

“Another? But I thought... Compassion...” he gestured back the way we had come.

“She is nothing like Compassion,” said Jean-François, leaning in. His eyes glowed almost as much as mine in the shadowed interior of the carriage. “Mr. Jules-Honoré Ambreville, let me introduce you to the Exemplar of Rage.”

***

As expected, my presence had the desired effect. They spoke animatedly the rest of the ride to the train station. I kept my eyed fixed on the man I had been brought here to convince, my posture confident but alert, my hands loose on my cane. I knew how to give the impression of a predator, coiled dangerously in the darkness. It made men’s pulses race, sweat gather at their temple, their breathing grow shallow. Their entire body trembled in terror, when they knew me their enemy, or excitement, when they thought me their tool.

Sometimes, I even had that effect on other Exemplars, who really should know better. Or perhaps they were stirred because they knew me and what I was capable of. I wondered whether I could arouse such turmoil in Compassion if I really applied myself to it. It seemed unlikely. He did not seem a man easily threatened, and he was not foolish enough to think that I could be controlled.

As expected, I did not need to speak to Ambreville, nor was I asked to. As the conversation washed over me, I let my mind wander. There had been a time when I would have cared about such things. The first of me had been a king, a leader of men. He would have had much to say about this revolution. But that had been the first and last time that I had had any such power. Every one of me afterwards had been part of the lesser, the downtrotten, the ones who did not have a voice until I started stabbing in their names. The world seemed different from that angle, desperation more cruel, pain more raw. Lessons had been learned.

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw?

not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content?

nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day?

nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early?

you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?

i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag?

#bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

⭐ 1: FAV OC

what makes them your fav?

2: NEW OC

how recently did you make them?

3: OLD OC

how long ago did you make them?

⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC

an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like

5: RE-DESIGNED OC

an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 6: PAST

where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?

7: LIKES

what do they like (and why?)

8: DISLIKES

what don't they like (and why?)

⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS

doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)

10: PERSONALITY

what are your oc's main personality traits

11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES

what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?

12: FUTURE

what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐13: MEMES

do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?

14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC

are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?

15: MUSIC

share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc

⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND

draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!

17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART

put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer

i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"

⭐18: SWAP

swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?

19: PALETTE CHALLENGES

draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

hex codes for the colours:

palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3

palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4

palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8

palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF

if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS

is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?

28: MONSTER

what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?

29: PUMPKIN CARVING

your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!

30: GHOST

this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!

⭐ 31: COSTUMES

what are your ocs wearing for halloween?

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[jacksintention]

I'm leaving here another piece by this artist (and the sketch!)

  Day 30 - found

[archivoasks]

questions I think would be fun to be asked

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

what made you start your blog?

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

what scares you the most and why?

any reacquiring dreams?

tell a story about your childhood

would you say you’re an emotional person?

what do you consider to be romance?

what’s some good advice you want to share?

what are you doing right now?

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

name 3 things that make you happy

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

favourite thing about the day?

favourite things about the night?

are you a spiritual person?

say 3 things about someone you love

say 3 things about someone you hate

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

fave season and why?

fave colour and why?

any nicknames?

do you collect anything?

what do you do when you’re sad?

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

are you messy or organised?

how many tabs do you have open right now?

any hobbies?

any pet peeves?

do you trust easily?

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

share a secret

fave song at the moment?

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

any bad habits?

(this post was stolen from @teenage-mutant-ninja-freak, since it couldn't be reblogged anymore)

[a-shade-of-blue]

Urgent: Help Mahmoud's 17 Family Members Escape from Frequent Bombings!

Hi everyone. Mahmoud (@mahmoudfamily1) is trying to raise fund to evacuate 17 members of his family (including no fewer than 5 children!), and he has asked me to share his story.

Mahmoud found out the bombing of her sister Tasnim’s husband’s house, the house his entire family was staying at, on the news. He could not contact his family for 3 days after that. He knew that several people had died and several more injured, but he did not know whom among his family survived, and who didn’t.

When he finally managed to reach them, he found out that a close relative, named Alaa, had been killed, along with her children: Ahmed and baby Iman who was not even one month old yet. Alaa was a beloved member of their family. She was optimistic and tried hard to cheer everyone else up. For the longest time, Alaa believed that the world would not turn away from their suffering and the war would end soon. But an airstrike took her and her children’s lives, the bombing continued, and the world remains indifferent.

Mahmoud’s sister Tasnim, was severely injured in the bombing. The attack happened while the family was sleeping, and Tasnim woke up to find her body injured and broken, bleeding heavily with bones sticking out of her leg. She found her 6-month-old daughter under the rubble, severely injured, but thankfully still alive. Tasnim's leg was fractured in multiple places, so severely injured that they all thought it had to be amputated. Tasnim’s husband and her 6-month-old daughter, her father-in-law, her brothers-in-law and Alaa’s husband were all severely injured by the bombing.

A few days later, Mahmoud’s family narrowly survived a second bombing on the street, as the people behind them, too slow to escape from the attack, were killed. They hid in their car, watching the plane flying above dropping bombs, praying that it would not target their car.

Given Tasnim and her 6-month-old daughter’s severe injuries, the family used a lot of money and exhausted all means to get them out of Gaza to receive the essential medical treatment they require. While Tasnim and her youngest daughter managed to evacuate, the rest of Mahmoud’s 17 family members, including Tasnim’s 2-year-old daughter who sustained first degree burns from the bombing, are still trapped in Gaza.

Mahmoud’s 17 family members (including no fewer than 5 children!) risk being killed and injured from the frequent airstrikes every day. They have narrowly escaped death no fewer than 5 times. On 31 August, the IOF dropped bombs on the tent next to theirs, killing 9 young men and women, and Mahmoud’s family woke up to their broken bodies.

Look at the photos Mahmoud sent me. These children, they are all trapped in Gaza where bombs may fall on them anytime. Please do not look away. Please help Mahmoud’s 17 family members reach safety!!

Mahmoud’s campaign is vetted by association. Mahmoud is @hazempalestine's friend, see post here for proof. @hazempalestine is vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and is listed as #281 on the verified fundraiser list by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi.

I’ve been trying to boost Hazem’s campaign, but we are both worried about Mahmoud’s campaign as donations are coming in really slowly for him. I hope you will support Mahmoud’s campaign and help him evacuate his 17 family members as well!

Extremely Low Funds! As of 3 September, Only $147 CAD raised of $80,000 goal! Last donation was 19 hours ago!!!

Please follow Mahmoud on @mahmoudfamily1 to get updates on his family's situation! And also, please, please, share/reblog, and donate if you can! Every donation helps!!