#I'VE BEEN WANTING TO DO THIS AND HAD NO INSPIRATION AND NOW

[celerydays]

long time no see…

Hey, hi, hello~

I don't know if anyone is still around this little blog o' mine or if I'm just showing up suddenly on the dash and whoever is seeing this might not recall ever even following me lol.

But – whether you remember me or not – I'm just dropping by to say that...I've missed you and that I truly hope you're doing well 🫂💗

I...have not been doing so well. But I've been working on it.

In a way, it's been healing to reshape my approach to things like journaling and capturing photos. I've been taking the time to develop a practice in documenting daily life – the people I care about, the places we visit, and all the random little moments in between – with more intentionality and care than I have in recent years.

(tw: grief and loss/death under cut)

We lost my mother very suddenly last November – and things have been unbearably hard the last few months.

In a lot of ways, 2024 was one of the best years: my partner and I traveled to Japan for the first time ever, my family had a small reunion in our hometown to watch the total solar eclipse together, my best friends got married, and we went on so many amazing trips and had the type of outings that made me so inspired, optimistic, and excited about life and the future.

But in so many other ways, it was also one of the worst years I've had in a long time: starting with a hard-learned (but perhaps overdue) firsthand lesson and reminder on how scary and mean the internet can be, followed by losing both my grandfather in the spring and then my mother just before the winter holidays.

I'm not particularly good when it comes to emotions– forget about even processing grief or putting into any sort of meaningful words how it all feels. But I guess all of this has made me shift my mindset when it comes to wanting to just...remember. To not forget.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On documenting life through journaling...

I had always journaled in some way or another all my life, but I only really started considering it a serious practice and hobby sometime around 2020. But I had lost my way with it in recent years, treating it solely as some kind of aesthetic-only venture, and only dedicating the time if I knew that I could make it "pretty" and "palatable for sharing".

And so, many entries were missed; days and weeks lost to fuzzy recollection, months bled into each other, and little moments only existed as vague and passing snapshots on my phone gallery (if I even remembered to take a photo).

But I now wish I had just written it down; whatever it was – big, small, angry, funny, sad, happy – just wrote it all down. It didn't have to be an aesthetically collaged spread or artful doodle or drawing. I wish I had documented some of the last times I had seen or spoken with my mother; what she had said, did, or how she reacted to silly news or quips I told her. I barely remember anything even just from the last year.

So now I write it all down, day after day: I'll write what's on my mind, what we did before, what I'm doing currently, what I'm planning to do. If someone calls or my partner walks in to my studio while I'm working and tells me something that has me reacting in the moment I'll jot down a little "omg!!" or "lol" or "holy shit" next to whatever they said or did.

If I get little scraps from the day – receipts, tags, tickets, wrappers – I'll paste it in wherever it happens to fit in my journal, with a little note of the date or what the outing was. And every so often, I'll print out photos to paste in with notes relating back to past entries or junk journal spreads.

Is always pretty? No, but it's pretty in its chaos. Is it always even chronological? Not at all. Does it always make sense? Not really. But I love every page so, so much more than anything I had carefully curated before in my previous journals.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On documenting life through photos...

I had once carried a camera with me everywhere before phone cameras became decent enough that I didn't feel the need to have a dedicated tool for just taking pictures anymore.

It wasn't until we were all looking through our collective family photos to use for my mother's memorial service and headstone that it hit me that I just don't take as many pictures as I used to– and when I did, they just don't compare to the ones that I used to take years ago when I did carry a camera with me on every outing and trip.

We ended up choosing a photo of her that I had taken on my once-beloved dSLR camera I used to haul around with me almost 10 years ago; she was smiling, strong, radiant, beautiful– and it was just a random moment I took my camera out in a Taiwan salon while she was waiting as my sister and I were both getting our hair done for our cousin's wedding.

A bit indescribable – and not even something I realized was missing – but there's something about having an actual camera on hand that pushes me to take more photos, and somehow better and more mindful photos at that.

And so I made the decision to invest in a new camera. An absolute necessity to take photos? No, of course not; I do still have my phone camera after all. But they say (apparently) that "the best camera is the one that you actually use"– and I was most definitely not using my phone as much as I could have been.

This new camera though? Only time will truly tell, but the past has shown that I've worked better with a dedicated camera on hand and already I can't begin to explain the difference it's made in the last week alone since I picked up the habit of carrying a camera around with me again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

This was a crazy long post that sort of got away from me. Not sure where I want to go from here – I guess I just want to say that if you ever felt called to document your life in some way, it's never too late to start; you'll only wish that you had begun sooner.

If you're still here– I love you. I hope you're taking care of yourself.

And thank you for reading along with my incredibly longwinded life update of what was essentially just "I'm grieving so I started journaling more and also bought a camera" lol.

💗

[jumpingjoltiks]

Um hiii!! Could I request an x reader for ingo and emmet (seperately) with a reader who is autistic but like. REALLY masks? Like a level of masking where the boys don't even know that they're autistic at first, and they're VERY different when they aren't out in public/don't feel the need to mask. I love ur writing btw >_<!!!

AAAA Thank you smmm! I’m so happy you’ve enjoyed my work! <3 <3 <3

I’ve already written a little bit about the twins being autistic already, so I’m happy to get to finally write some x reader stuff to go with it!

Biiiiig mood. I've spent most of my life masking, so I think a lot of this will probably come from my own experiences. I ended up making this a few different sections instead of just one, all coming out of different ideas I had. :)

The twins with someone who is also autistic, but masks heavily

Ingo Gets It. He understands the fear and the pressure to fit in. Emmet doesn’t, but he tries his best to respect your decision (though, secretly, he wishes you’d be more yourself. Both boys love when you’re being the most authentic version of you, but Emmet really wants to see it all the time).

Being actually comfortable around them takes a while (as it would with anyone) – its hard work to decondition yourself like that, to convince yourself you’re really, genuinely safe being yourself – but the twins’ (especially Emmet’s) refusal to mask is enormously helpful in this regard. Their unabashed devotion to being exactly who they are is inspiring.

Emmet devotedly listens to your infodumping, especially if it’s something he’s also interested in. Ingo is thrilled to find someone else who will listen to him too. Late in the evening, when Ingo is cooking and you’re all three in the kitchen together, you all talk like no one has ever looked at you strangely before – open and honest and genuinely excited just to share knowledge and enjoy this moment together.

There’s a certain amount of bluntness between you three, but none of you really mind. If hurtful words are ever said, you can be sure that they weren’t really meant to be cruel. You can always talk things out. Emmet, in particular, has trouble with his straightforward attitude, and sometimes says things that come out wrong – do you as well? He knows how hard it can be to find the right way to say things.

And if you don’t feel like spending time together right now, the twins understand that too. There have been plenty of days when one or the other will come home and lock themselves in their room for a while, just to cool down. If you should come home from your job or a grocery run and need some time, they’ll handle the rest.

Decompression

Would it surprise you to know that it’s Emmet who catches on first? There’s a good reason for that! He’s had a lifetime of keeping an eye on his brother, who also used to heavily mask.

Your own tells are different then Ingo’s, to be sure, but they’re there regardless.

After a tough day, you’re taking the subway home. He notices that your posture and gait are different & your expression is stiffer. You’re clinging to your sense of self-control.

He’s got things he needs to attend to, but you’re a dear friend… your wellbeing comes first, he decides. Emmet doesn’t hesitate to fall into step next to you as you traverse through the station.

“Good afternoon! Are you doing alright?”

You know he’s not one for small talk… so what is he doing? The flash of a puzzled look crosses your face before you smile up at him. It’s humiliating, but you can’t seem to summon up words right now. This will have to do.

Emmet knows smiles. Yours is tight and strained, not at all like your usual smile. And you haven’t answered. He doesn’t like this at all. All signs are pointing to a systems crash.

“Your engine is overheated. I can tell. Do you need a place to step aside for maintenance? My office isn’t far.”

You stare at him blankly, trying to parse exactly what kind of metaphor he’s making.

But you’re too overstimulated and tired to put too much thought into it. Eventually, you sigh and nod. He leads you through the crowd with swinging arms and legs, and people part before him.

The office is an open space that is fastidiously tidy. A sofa is tucked against one wall, opposite is a set of shelves with all kinds of books and files neatly arranged. A pair of matching desks are stationed toward the back of the room. You’ve never been in here, but somehow you instinctively know that this is a safe place for you.

“I have a mini fridge. You are welcome to any of the snacks and cold waters I have. There are also noise cancelling headphones if you want. I know that Gear Station can be verrrrry noisy when overstimulated.”

You think that’s the longest stretch of words you’ve ever heard Emmet say, and you can only stare up at him wordlessly in response. You didn’t realize he had you figured out. Shame threatens to creep in, but then he smiles as he holds out a bottle of ice water to you. He smiles like he knows. There isn’t a single trace of pity or belittlement in it, only understanding.

You take the bottle of water with a small, genuine smile of your own. It’s the first one you’ve had all day.

When you sit down on the couch, Emmet takes off his coat and places it over your shoulders. It’s pretty big on you… but it’s also really heavy. You hadn’t realized it was weighted this whole time. The pressure feels nice, and you bury yourself into it. Emmet seems pleased, like he knew this would happen.

“I am going to do some paperwork at my desk. Would you like the lights off?”

You nod wordlessly and he flicks the light switch off in response. The only light in the room is the warm glow of a desk lamp, focused down onto his work station and away from you. Even the faint hum of electricity that would usually come out of a lamp like that is silent, which is an enormous relief.

The only sound for the next hour is Emmet’s pen near silently sweeping across the pages of his work. You stay quiet and buried under his coat, eyes closed and dozing somewhere between sleeping and waking. You feel safe.

After what feels like an age, you shift from under the coat and re-emerge, feeling much better. Emmet’s eyes flick up to you.

“Do you feel any better?” he asks. His voice is quiet.

“Yes.” You answer, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off. “Do not apologize. Ingo and I have spent many afternoons doing the same. I’m just glad I was there to offer help.”

From that point on, things are… different between you and the twins. Emmet must have told his brother about what happened, because Ingo is more open around you.

You’ve been friends for a long time, but something seems to have unlocked now. The three of you quickly catch like a struck match.

Parallel Play

You spend a lot of time over at their place, and they at yours. Expect Ingo to politely ask if he or Emmet or both can come spend time with you.

This worried you at first, when you were still friends and not yet dating, but the twins don’t actually want your attention, per say. They just want to be in the same room as you while they do their own thing. Not having to “host” takes so much pressure off of you that you wonder why anyone entertains any other way.

Ingo will be reading, curled up in one of your chairs or on a couch, so still you’d think he was asleep if not for the intermittent turn of a page. Emmet is reviewing battle plans and notes, spread out across your table, one leg bouncing. Occasionally, he gets up to pace and mutter to himself, not looking at either you or his brother. You’re working on one of your hobbies in the living room. Not one of you bothers the others. It’s… peaceful. And nice, just having them unobtrusively nearby.

Do you stim? They have a cache of puzzle-y, twisty toys and clickers in a drawer. You’re more than welcome to them, or to anything else you need.

Eventually, if you’d like, you can curl up with Ingo underneath the weighted blanket he’s got spread across his lap. He’ll swing an arm around you without looking up from his book, and you listen to his heartbeat and steady breathing as you nod off.

Or Emmet might come over to you and quietly offer you a warm mug of hot chocolate. The two of you sit back-to-back in silence, sipping your drinks and working on your respective projects.

How nice it is, you think, to spend time with those who understand.

[itsrlymine]

This is 🦇🕸 anon, I know it's been a while 🫶🏾. I deleted tumblr for a bit to fully work on what your posts said and to just decide and more importantly believe that I have what I want and I have some success stories🙃. First I really wanted some new clothes this year considering there's barely anything for me to wear at my dads house, especially with the way my style keeps changing, so from the start of this year I started stating that he was going to take me shopping, I'd daydream about it and try remind myself when he was going to take me shopping, as if I forgot. Not that long after I started thinking like this my aunt (on my dad's side) asked to go thrifting with me because she was interested, we ended up not just going thrifting and getting a bunch of clothes but we also went to the mall to get even more clothes 🫠 it was the best shopping spree I've ever had and literally everything I got was on sale (I've also manifested always attracting sales and discounts). Now I have a full wardrobe of clothes to wear that I actually like😍.

This year I also decided I wanted to get my mum a kurt geiger bag for her birthday since she's always wanted one, that day when me and my aunt went shopping we actually went in store to look at it and decided to leave it but seeing it in person made the goal feel so much real. The next day she video called me saying she bought it and that I could pay her back later. Now I'll be able to give my mum her dream bag even before her birthday which I'm SUPERRR happy about. I've been manifesting a lot of material things lately since this is the year I decided I'm finally going to get a vivienne westwood internship and actually finally get a job and money, wish me luck ❤️ and thank you for the inspiration your page has given me to actually take action🫶🏾🫶🏾

hello 🦇🕸!!!!! babes i love this for you omg. i even had to take a break from this page a lil bc i also have to practice what i preach and i'm glad to hear how you've been choosing the world you are living in. these successes eat btw omg i'm in the middle of upgrading my wardrobe as well omg great minds think alike. i love that you are experiencing how much ease comes with choosing bc that's all you have to do!!! congrats on. your vivienne westwood internship and your new job babe! thank you so much for sharing!

[jesncin]

Some inspiration for this comic and Hellblazer homework:

Noah repeats the "any hand will do." line from the Hellblazer Fear Machine arc. I thought it would be so fitting if Noah didn't even realize he was emulating his dad's kindness too. After all, Noah holding someone's hand to comfort them did happen in canon.

Astra Logue, the girl John damned to Hell when messing with demons he shouldn't have, ended up losing her arm in the Newcastle Incident. In the Critical Mass arc, John manages to free her and several other children's souls from Hell. Some versions of Johnstantine don't include this arc so that John's guilt over Astra is a constant in his life.

Either way, we purposefully left it ambiguous whether John and Astra are in Heaven, Hell, or something in between. What matters was allegorizing that forgiveness. We also didn't want Astra's arm to be "cured"- instead fully committing to her being an amputee. It didn't feel right to imply that she's an amputee in Hell but she gets her arm back in Heaven- especially when we're responding to the ableist ending of Dead In America. The disabled children John wronged forgiving him because "they're cured now" felt thematically hollow and ableist.

So!! I wanted this send off to feel as Mike Flanagan-core as possible. Which meant we needed a MONOLOGUE

John's speech is inspired by the poem "Good Bones" by Maggie Smith. I took the "realtor" angle and reframed it to fit John's silver tongue conman character. So it morphed to being about protecting kids from how cruel we know the world to be.

Speaking of over-protecting-! Yeah that's right, we are pulling an Uno reverse on that canon "curing Noah" ending. While I get that it wasn't directly John who "cured" Noah (it was Clarice), I tried to keep some essence of it by reframing it as John being so protective of Noah that he thinks he can change who his son is for the "better". But then John recognizes how ableist he's being to who Noah is.

In canon, from Hellblazer 2019 to Dead in America, Noah's disability is treated as an inconvenience to overcome. Noah's disability is the unintended result of John's magical shenanigans, so curing it is part of John's redemption. Instead we have it so that John's growth ends with leaving Noah the way he is. I even made a nod to the "Making things easier? Simpler? Why not?" line from canon but reframed it as a flaw on John's part.

For those not in the know, Noah's situation is that he lost his voice as a very young boy when his mom was attacked by a demonic entity. His mom has been in a coma ever since, and Noah steadfastly visits her "at least twice a week". Noah lived most of his life having to both hope but grieve his only parent for so long. This made it feel all the more fitting that he should be the one to send off John at the end. He's used to sitting by his mom, ready to say goodbye any day now.

Like John, Noah's placement in our story is ambiguous too. Afterwards Noah's left to his own devices, he wants to make it back home, and he's still a very vulnerable kid at the end of the day. Not everything is wrapped up neatly, and I don't think it should be. John's prepared him as best as he can, intentionally or not. It's all a part of letting go and being worried for their safety regardless.

[spoilers for Midnight Mass]

To bring the Flanagan vibes together, we pulled from Riley's death scene in Midnight Mass. Riley is so John-coded that I swear there's a hidden perfect John Constantine movie somewhere inside this series. Riley spends the whole series haunted by the young woman he accidentally killed in a drunken car accident. But when he meets his end, the young woman is there to welcome him sweetly. It's SO INTENSE haha. I've had a Johnstantine death scene saved in my pocket ever since, so I refitted it for Dead in America. We made Noah and Astra parallels of each other.

Despite being called "Dead in America" to hype up the death of its hero, John's send off never landed for me. I get that cape comic characters never truly stay dead, (especially when they make tons of money for the company) but I was hoping for an ending that at least felt emotionally final and convincing. Something that brought everything about John Constantine full circle. In canon, it's a bunch of events that accumulate into a larger event where John just happens to get the short end of the stick and rot away. He's sent off into the ocean by Swamp Thing, his new friend that he barely got to know (Nat), and his son he barely connected with (Noah) are just there.

This is me trying to visually express "Forgiveness is warm. Like a tear on a cheek" from Nell's speech in Flanagan's Haunting of Hill House. I didn't want it to have words. I Uno-reversed Flanagan's obsession with monologues you see.

Dead In America acts self aware about how anti-climatic and unsatisfying it is, but that doesn't magically make it good- y'know what I mean? I wanted an ending that actually said something about parenthood, being buried by your children, worrying if you prepared them enough to survive, worrying that they've emulated the worst parts of you, or that you've become the worst parts of your own parents. Something that called back to John's origin story as a guy who messed up and screwed over the life of an innocent kid. Dealing with having his own kid should be this ending piece to that tragedy. So here's what it looks like if Dead in America bothered.

A Father's Farewell: The End Of The Road.

Our take on Hellblazer: Dead In America's ending, focusing in on John's relationship with Noah, legacy, and parenthood.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.216 New plans

The grocery person arrived, and I remembered Maira's ex-love interest owned that company. Whatever happened with them? She was definitely in puppy love, heh. But, life does life things, and now she's happily married. With a fully stocked fridge, I made fried chicken sliders for dinner after the riding lessons.

Alessia texted me, saying she knows I want to know who she was texting with earlier. She's exploring something new and will fill me in when she's comfortable it's worth sharing. Color me intrigued and extremely excited. I will always wear my protective big brother hat, but I also want Less to find the love she lost. I never thought she'd get to a place where she wanted to settle down and start a family, but clearly she found value in it, regardless of how it turned out. She wants it, and I want her to have it.

Sophia and Desi were so excited about going to school tomorrow. The kid is READY, and I'm as excited for her as I am nervous. I'm not nervous for her because she's a rockstar and all the kids will love her. I'm just anxious about not having her around anymore. She has been with us every day of her sweet life. She's never even spent the night anywhere else, and now she's going out into the world by herself. I'm very conflicted about it. We all brought our excitement upstairs and did bedtime together. Hopefully, she'll be able to sleep. I don't think I will.

Me and Sophia went back downstairs to process our new normal. I'd been thinking about my next move for a while now and could not decide which direction I wanted to go. Desi's interest in yoga deeply inspired me. She seems to be very serious about it, and that makes me want to be the best instructor I can be.

"I'm gonna start teaching again," I said.

She gasped, and her eyes lit up with glee.

"Really?? That's wonderful! I'm so glad to hear that. So...any thoughts about the studio?"

"Desi reminded me of why I fell in love with yoga and started teaching in the first place. My goal isn't to open a studio but to teach as many as I can. If I need to open a studio to do that, fine."

"Makes sense," she said. "I've been thinking about getting a job, too. Just something part time so I can be home when Desi gets out of school."

"That would be perfect. I want to be here too, but I know I can't. I'm glad she'll have you."

A memory popped into my head that made me shake my head.

"When my parents divorced, we lived with Dad. He had a 9-5, so we were home alone for a while. I remember being so scared that first day, walking into an empty house. We lived in an okay neighborhood, so I wasn't concerned about something happening, but I had to grow up a lot faster than I needed to."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the oldest. Even as a little kid, I was keenly aware that it was my job to protect my sister, and when no adults are around, I'm in charge. Lots of kids have to grow up like that, and there's nothing wrong with it. But if I can help it, I want Desi to be a kid for as long as possible. I don't want her to be stressed like we were."

"She won't. I'll make sure of that."

"Thank you."

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

no body, no crime- r.c. x reader chapter 3- imposter syndrome

summary: three years after your disappearance you return to the outer banks, only with no recollection of your time away. now that you're back, weird things start happening and everyone seems to be hiding secrets. the nightmare is far from over.

warnings: 18+ MDNI not because of this chapter but for the story in general <3

a/n: i had this in my drafts for so long, specifically the text messages that took me forever. my dad has pneumonia so i've been pretty busy along with school this past few weeks. also, my first language isn't english, so sorry for any mistakes. anyway, tyyy to @sematarygirls for inspiring me with gone girl <3

masterlist

i met someone very special today. who? and the whole not belonging bit hit too close to home. i guess feelings never really leave even when memories disappear.

i took a deep breath and decided i had to find a person that fit in this, somehow. kildare is full of secrets and i could feel it, as if on cue my phone buzzed. oh right, somewhere during my hospital stay and coming home my mom had given me one. she said that now that i was back, the police would come and give me back my old belongings. i dreaded it because i knew the amount of questions i would get. i honestly could not for the life of me tell the truth, not yet. especially since my memories weren’t particularly stellar at the moment after the accident. i should probably make a list or something of things i have to do and piece together in order to have my story straight. a to-do list of things to investigate before it was too late.

i shook my head and sighed. i held the journal in my hands and stared at the wall. im in danger, that much i know. the doctor had said i was found by a passerby unconscious in a car accident. i was then taken to the hospital and the police began to investigate my possible identity. they apparently ran the license plates and contacted the owner who had reported the car missing three months before. my mother then told me that by the state i was, it was obvious i could not be questioned. thus, the police then notified all of the other departments to see if they were looking for someone with my description because it was standard procedure to check for missing people, you guessed it, they hit the jackpot. y/n gilbert. and the rest i honestly, didn’t want to hear because i knew the police would explain everything when they would question me so for now i just have to find out how to protect myself and my family. i needed to be star. but i barely know her, so i have to get to know her me so i can be safe.

my phone buzzed again, pulling me out of my thoughts. i unlocked it, seeing sarah had texted me.

i smiled to myself when i saw the group chat:

i threw my phone as far away from me as possible. they saved a seat for star me. as if she i were dead and in a way she i was. that girl was never coming back. i heard it buzzing for a bit and i read silently as they wrote. i laughed when i saw what they were going on about:

after it went silent i decided to just turn it off for the night. i was exhausted honestly, the day had been overwhelming and the journal didn’t help at all.

i stood up from the floor and pushed the mattress onto the bed frame. god, it was heavy. i put the bedding as close to how it had been and plopped down on the bed, this time no hard lump sticking into my spine. i looked at the journal on the nightstand, wondering why it was stitched that way so no one could find it. sure, journals are private and we don’t want people to find them but to this extreme? it didn’t make any sense, unless there wasn’t reason to keep writing.

i then took it and hid it under my pillow just in case. it was my only hope of ever getting to stay here as the old y/n.

the breakfast at the country club was amazing, the people not so much. my mom had woken eleanor and i for a much needed “girl time.” and i know she meant well but all i wanted to do was to lie in bed and think. i needed to remember what happened in the accident and the years before that. even the night i went missing was blurry so right now i am in the dark . my mind was spiraling mainly because the police were going to interview me tomorrow and i had to get my story straight. i didn’t want them to discredit me, or worse, close the case. ugh, stupid concussion. what do you mean it could be months before i got my fragmented memories back? if they ever did. i had to start investigating and for that i had to be home reading every single page of that journal. i also had to search my entire bedroom for clues. who knows how many things the police missed. i’m sure they believed i was a runaway but still conducted an investigation for the sake of my family.

“elaine?” a male voice interrupted my thoughts and when i glanced up i was met with a pair of icy blue eyes, a beard and a too bright smile to be genuine. i knew he was faking the surprise, the entire club was staring at us the moment we got out of the car.

“oh hello, ward. how are you? your daughters were at my house yesterday.” my mom smiled but hers seemed genuine.

“yes, they told me. sarah was particularly excited because of y/n,” he looked at me with the same faux warmth of his. hypocrite.

i smiled reluctantly at him, earning a nod in acknowledgment.

“yes, they were very emotional. it was a bittersweet moment, but i think more sweet than bitter.” my mom looked at me and grabbed my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

ward proceeded with his script, which i’m sure he’d prepared beforehand to make himself look good.

“i wanted to tell you y/n, that whoever was responsible for your disappearance will face the consequences. i personally will make sure of it. you’ve always been a dear friend of sarah’s and eleanor of wheezie’s. you’re family and that is the least i can do.”

eleanor smiled but kept eating quietly, obviously uninterested in the conversation. i was beginning to notice that the constant vigilance from the other club members was pissing her off. that makes two of us.

my mother though, looked at ward as if he’d just told her he discovered the cure for cancer. she was so blind sometimes. “thank you so much, ward. i truly appreciate it and my family as well.”

“of course, elaine. well, i’ll leave you girls alone now. y/n, it’s good to have you back.” he gave me a knowing look and left the same way he’d come from. asshole.

the thing about ward cameron was that he was power hungry and his way of gaining said power was by being “helpful” when in reality those favors always had a price.

“that man is one of the best things to ever happen to outer banks. so kind and willing to help. pity that his son isn’t the same way.”

“what do you mean?” i knew rafe from a distance, mainly through sarah, sometimes seeing his extreme partying lifestyle with her ex boyfriend, topper. somehow where sarah was sweet but sometimes bitchy, rafe was a complete asshole. so i don’t know why my mother’s remark surprised me. well, maybe because he would do anything to get his father’s approval however he could.

“well, don’t repeat this to anyone ok?” she waited until i nodded and then waited for eleanor to do the same. when she did, my mom started gossiping eagerly.

“rafe was arrested for selling drugs and possession of a firearm about a year ago. but nobody found out because ward allegedly asked for it to not go public. if it had been anybody else i’m sure they wouldn’t have done it, but since ward has always been such an active member of the community they took pity on him.” oh mother, how innocent. eleanor and i shared a look that told me she was thinking the same thing.

“mom shh!” eleanor’s eyes widened. “he’s going to pass by us i think.” i looked down and my mom immediately pretended to be talking of her newest vase collection while el and i were suddenly very interested in our food.

i was staring down at my plate when a familiar voice interrupted our conversation.

“hello, mrs. gilbert. i’m very sorry to interrupt, it’s just that my father wanted me to give you this in regards to the project being done with cameron development. he was going to pass later by your home but since he found you here, he asked me to deliver them.” rafe was different somehow. he looked older and stronger. i mean three years had passed since i last saw him but the difference was abysmal. he was healthy, physically at least. his hair that had been styled to the side with gel, was now buzzed short. and despite all of those apparent changes, his attitude was just the same. he ignored my sister and i as if we were children imposing on an adult conversation. the cameron men were horrid, which always made me wonder where wheezie and sarah got all their goodness. el and i shared a glance that told me our thoughts were one and the same.

“thank you, rafe. i’ll notify ward as soon as my husband and i review them.” my mother smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. rafe smiled back and excused himself without sparing us a glance.

i raised my eyebrows slightly while lifting my orange juice to my lips and eleanor said what we’d all been thinking, “jerk.” i spit out the juice laughing, splashing my mom, making eleanor burst out cackling at our mothers expression only for her to join in. we were giggled for a while and i suspected it was a release of years of tension and not at el’s comment.

the shared moment made the rest of the gathering comfortable and the tension was long gone. when we finally returned home, i went straight to my bedroom and lied on bed.

maybe being here wasn’t so bad. i lifted my head and checked my phone for any new messages but none from anybody i was expecting.

my heart dropped as i looked at my screen in utter fear and disbelief.

FINALLY I COULD DO THIS

if you made it this far, thank you!!!! i love seeing people read my silly thoughts. and let me know theories and thoughts. i even accept constructive criticism, i really don't mind.

i know rafe's appearance was short but BEAR WITH ME. the poor reader is traumatized lmaoo plus i want him to be a jerk at first (she won't know what hit her)

anyway, the flashback is almost done. i know i had said chapter 3 was going to be a flashback but i got stumped, i'm sorry.

butttt i now know what i will do <3

i love you all xx

dividers by: @yeossemble

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)

[solaestial]

I'm glad you're evil too - Pinocchio-P

[sillimancer]

so I've been watching Bluey and I'm on episode 37/52 in series 1 so I feel like I've seen enough of it to have genuine thoughts (I skimmed the wikipedia page too)

the reason I started watching it was because of its reputation among millennials with kids who have been swearing up and down that it's basically free therapy for our age group. I'm definitely in the market to having my brain chemistry altered but after 37 episodes, I don't know that I'm there yet. there is still a lot of show left to go though, and some of the most-circulated clips I've seen on social media have been in episodes I haven't come across yet, so that is subject to change.

what I CAN say is that Bluey is objectively a very good tv show that 100% deserves its Peabody award. it's thoughtful, fun, and honestly funnier than it has any right to be. I've laughed out loud more than once. Joe Brumm made the show with the intention of it being entertaining for both kids and parents and he absolutely nailed that balance, I think. in that way, it's not a kid show; it's a family show. and I like that (and I'm pleasantly surprised by how well it works!).

I haven't been a kid for a long time so it's hard for me to put myself in the shoes of a child, especially in a world that is so drastically different from mine. I think this is the first kid show I've seen that prominently features things like smartphones. I know those shows exist--the new Blue's Clues is a good example of how things have been updated to suit modern audiences--but it's something that caught my eye as an Old Fart (in internet years). Not as a bad or good thing, just as a "wow I'm getting older and it's getting harder to relate to or even understand childhood" kind of way. Maybe that's why people want to be parents so badly. To reconnect with that. I can sympathize with that feeling.

the show focuses a lot on Bluey and her sister and friends navigating the world through imaginative play, which I love and has a solid backing in child developmental psychology. I actually just started learning a little bit about play therapy (I follow a play therapist on tiktok who kinda got me into it, I love her), so I feel like I've been getting a little bonus bit of enrichment out of the show for that. it's like when you're watching a movie that's partly in another language and you don't speak the language but you recognize it and can maybe pick out a couple words? it's like that.

I think Brumm really captured lightning in a bottle with this project. you can feel the love it's made with. the storylines are grounded with just the right touch of an almost magical or fantastical quality that really makes you feel childlike wonder even as a cynical and deeply depressed 30-something. There's conflict and mess, sure, but built on a foundation of safety and community, and I think that's probably what's resonating with (american) millennials. we inherited so much instability and pain from our previous generations that it's hard to believe a world or even a family unit like Bluey's could exist. parents who love each other? who are active in their children's lives? who apologize when they do something wrong? COULDN'T BE US!

all this to say I'm enjoying the show, it's heartwarming, it's charming, it's delightful, and I hope Joe Brumm lives forever. but it's also very much designed for children so like. I worry the millennial parents crying over this show on tiktok may be overselling it.

[marshbarks]

this is smth thats not gonna make sense to most ppl who follow me but 'm Thinking again so tag rambly

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the heist!mark brainrot is consuming me…, just imagine mark n the viewer meeting for the first time as little kids to shoplift candy or smth together ╥﹏╥

the (brain)rot consumes!! I can relate

my dear anon... LISTEN. I am a big advocate for childhood friends captaineer, it's one of my favourite headcanons, but a childhood friends AU for the heist partners? that's something I hadn't considered until now. and it's adorable. I had to write something for it asap because I was INSPIRED. I hope you enjoy💖 thanks for sparking the idea!

Heist!Mark x reader (not explicitly romantic at all it's more about the friendship in this one) | Words: 1,317

You are in the kitchen of your shared home base, unloading the groceries your heist partner has just bought, when you pick up a bag of sour candies, smiling quietly to yourself. He's always been a fan of them.

Turning the packet in your hands, an old memory drifts to the surface of your mind:

You don't remember exactly how long ago it was, but you couldn't have been much older than maybe ten.

Your father was busy working, and had reluctantly sent you to the store with a small list after you insisted you could handle it on your own.

You slipped the folded piece of paper out of your school bag and scanned the list of items. At the bottom was a note that read, ‘Remember to stay hydrated, kiddo! :)’

You walked around the supermarket collecting the few things on your list and placed them in your trolley. On your way to the checkout, you passed through the candy aisle and slowed to eye the products on display.

‘Aren't you going to get anything?’

Your head perked up, shocked at the sudden voice addressing you.

There was a boy next to you with dark hair, looking at you inquisitively. He seemed to be about your age. He might have even been slightly shorter than you.

You must have been standing here for longer than you realised if it had prompted him to ask you about it.

You shook your head.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, um. My dad only gave me enough money for what we need,’ you said timidly, showing him the list.

‘Ohh, that's too bad.’ Then, a small yet undeniably mischievous smile appeared on his face. He glanced discreetly up and down the aisle. ‘You know you can just — ’ and he took one of the small packets of candy off the shelf and slipped it swiftly into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide, stunned. Both from the fact that he was suggesting you steal, and at the speed and subtly with which he'd enacted the crime, as if he'd done it dozens of times before, if not more.

‘What are you doing?’ you spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘It's no big deal,’ he said in a lower voice than before, but one that still felt entirely too loud. He slipped another bag into his pocket.

You did not want to associate with this boy any longer.

You pushed your trolley away and towards the checkout, handing your items to the cashier.

You were unhappy to find the boy waiting for you when you exited the store, shopping bag in your hand.

‘What do you want?’ you asked, a little standoffishly, frowning at him.

‘There's no need to be rude,’ he said with a small pout. ‘Y'know, I think I might have seen you at school a few times.’

To your dismay, he followed along as you started walking home. When you pressed him, he simply said, ‘Hey, I'm not following you! I live down this way too, I promise!’

As the two of you walked, he chatted annoyingly by your side. What was more annoying was that you found you didn't mind his presence. You were a quiet kid and you didn't have many friends. Having someone to walk home with you was kind of a nice change of pace.

Just as you thought this, though, you immediately chided yourself mentally. You and him were not friends. You weren't going to be friends. This boy was a criminal and he wasn't even sorry about it.

You frowned in thought.

Oh no, what if he got caught? What if you went to juvenile jail for being an accomplice to theft? What would Dad say? What would Mom say? What if—’

‘Hey, are you listening to me? You haven't responded to anything I'm saying.’

You simply sighed as he pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘Are you still mad about the candy? I told you it's not a big deal.’

You stopped as you realised you were approaching your front door. The journey seemed to have gone a little faster than usual.

‘Really?’ you finally replied in an exasperated tone. ‘That was no big deal for you? That was stealing. Stealing is wrong.’ You couldn't believe you had to spell it out to him.

‘They won't notice a couple tiny bags of candy are gone. My mom says big companies that own supermarkets are greedy. They make loads of money anyway and don't pay enough taxes.’

‘Does your mom know you're a thief?’

‘W- well, no, but-’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He looked a little disheartened.

‘Please don't tell anyone. I'm sorry if I upset you,’ he said quietly, looking down.

You hadn't really expected an apology from someone like him. You sighed again.

‘I won't tell, but don't expect me to just go along with it. And don't act like we're best buds all of a sudden. We don't know each other. You don't even know my name!’

‘Well, what's your name?’

You gave him a slightly surprised look before telling him your name, albeit hesitantly.

‘Look, I have to get going now…’

You fumbled with the shopping bag as you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for the house key, when you suddenly felt something that wasn't there before. It made a crinkling sound beneath your touch.

‘You didn't.’ You pulled the candy out of your pocket. ‘When did you—?’

The boy grinned at you.

‘I thought you could have one of mine.’

‘I don't want your stolen candy!’

‘Judging by how you looked at it earlier, I think you do. And besides, stolen treats taste better!’ he called out, already walking away.

‘Wh- SHH!’ You hoped none of your neighbours had heard.

‘I'm Mark by the way! See ya, buddy!’

You stood outside the front door, dumbfounded.

Finally you let yourself in. Your dad wouldn't be home yet for a while.

You put the shopping away and sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stolen goods in front of you.

You could try to put it back but… that would be more suspicious.

You figured, the deed had been done. There was nothing you could do now, so you may as well make the most of it.

You tore the edge of the packet and popped one of the candies in your mouth, savouring the sweet and sour combination on your tongue.

Maybe Mark was right. It did taste extra good. But maybe it was just because you'd been craving it.

What a weird kid.

‘Stealing is wrong, huh…?’ you mumble under your breath. You look down at the candy in your hands. It's not the same brand as the one from back then, but you imagine it tastes more or less the same, from what you remember.

Present day Mark is the one to pull you out of your musings.

‘Hey, what's with that face you're making? I know that look, buddy. Are you contemplating your life choices??’

You chuckle softly.

‘Just… got reminded of something. I suppose I got lost in nostalgia for a moment.’

‘Oh yeah? Penny for your thoughts?’

You turn and smile at him.

‘This just made me think of an annoying little boy stealing candy from a supermarket. And his reluctant acquaintance who ended up getting dragged into his antics for the foreseeable future.’

It takes a second for it to click.

‘Ohhhhh.’ You watch as realisation turns to him smiling fondly at the memories, which turns to him snapping his attention to you with a fake-offended look.

You laugh at his expression.

‘Wait, hey! Annoying?!’

‘Mhm.’

‘Excuse you, I was a wonderful, sweet and positively charming child.’

Your laughter rings out in the kitchen, full of mirth, and he shakes his head at you with a familiar lopsided grin, and you are so grateful for the cheeky little boy who approached you that day.

[summer-sapphic]

Hi I'm mad

[forcedhesitation]

*wheeze* slowly, but surely, working on art of them all

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Had this dream where I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in forever. We were talking and I noticed these weird inconsistencies that were more of the vibe being off than anything. It wasn't anything the friend said or did. Just a gut feeling. Like a movie, the camera panned up from the conversation then out and showed what had happened to them since, that they had split into two long ago, had lived entire lives as two separate beings, before somehow returning to one entity that was and wasn't my friend? By complete chance, they had come together looking like someone I knew, who had the same name and face and life experiences, but was utterly different, yet somehow the same?? And an older, deep, dramatic male voice said this in the background while the montage of how they came to be happened:

"So, while you may appear as the same person as before, this is merely a coincidence. You are but a simulacrum of who that person was. A fable, rent from experiences beyond what you could even comprehend, assembled and disassembled on a whim, until, by pure statistic anomaly, you find yourself here, wearing the guise of someone known, when, in reality, you are the furthest thing from it."

The final few words were accompanied by a weird spiral/swirling as the two souls recombined and became the person I thought I knew, standing before me at that very moment.

I woke up and immediately wrote down what the voiceover guy had said. I woke up feeling like I'd lost something important.

[ur-fav-alien]

Chapters: 21/21 Fandom: Minecraft Diaries - Aphmau (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Aphmau (Minecraft Diaries), Garroth Ro'Meave, Donna (Minecraft Diaries), Zenix (Minecraft Diaries), Zoey (Minecraft Diaries), Emmalyn (Minecraft Diaries), Brendan (Minecraft Diaries), Minecraft Diaries Characters, Kiki (Minecraft Diaries) Additional Tags: Aphmau is referred to as Asmara, not completed (probably never will sorry), Kinda canon compliant, sometimes I start to do whatever but... who cares lol, trying so hard to not do born sexy yesterday but aphmau you make it so hard lol Series: Part 3 of The Godly Diaries Summary:

The story of a girl waking up in a foreign land with vague memories of what her past might have contained. Through illness, heartbreak, and magickal discoveries, Asmara must figure out who she is in this world and that means for everyone else she has surrounded herself with.

woah! What is this! the thing that I talked about doing not even a post ago!! How crazy is that!! 

[turtlemagnum]

thinking about how the people around me, particularly people i dont know anymore, impacted my fantasy setting. the raccoon people i added because of a friend who wanted to be a raccoon. goblins existing in the way that they do because of someone i still know who really likes a specific kind of goblin, and made me like them too. even minor things, like deciding that a character's eyes were gray because the person i was talking to also had gray eyes. there"s definitely a lot of me in there, but there's still little bits and pieces of others in there too