#and had a new vision of where i wanted it to go

[4theitgirls]

productivity apps for self improvement

pinterest

you know i had to include the ultimate form of social media. pinterest is one of the only truly peaceful social media apps out there and focuses on sharing photos to your themed boards. this app is everything if you’re into making vision boards, moodboards, beauty, productivity, and really anything else. there’s something there for everyone!

finch

this is a wonderful self-care app, in which you take care of a bird while taking care of yourself! this is my new favorite app. i use the free version and it is adorable. the app asks you some questions about your goals and how you feel about self care, and gives you some daily goals based on your answers, but you can delete and add goals of your own. the more you log in and track your goals, the more adventures your bird can go on and the more they grow. i recommend this app to absolutely everyone and i will never shut up about it.

gymshark training

this is a free training app including many different types and styles of workouts. you can search for workouts based on duration, equipment used, the targeted muscle, and so on. you can also add workouts and plans of your own and track your progress.

i am sober

this is my favorite app for if you have something you want to quit. this isn’t just for substances or alcohol, but can also be used for quitting sugar, skin picking, caffeine, fast food, and so many other things. you can track your progress, review your days, make pledges, and connect with others who are struggling with the same thing you are. you are also given motivational quotes and reminders when you log into the app. there is an option for a subscription, but i use the free version and have had no problems with it at all.

study bunny: focus timer

an adorable focus timer where you gain coins with every goal/time you accomplish something with your focus timer and you can spend your coins on cute little accessories for your bunny! the only real issue with this app is that the ads are kind of crazy, and it’s $15 a month to go ad-free.

flora - green focus

this app includes a pomodoro timer and plants a tree in a rural community based on how often you stay focused using the timer on the app. the app does not plant a tree unless you opt for their subscription, which is $2 per year and allows you to plant one tree for 120 hours of focused time. you can also plant a tree every 24 hours with the $10 plan.

focus to-do: focus timer&tasks

this app combines a pomodoro timer with a daily to-do list. the app is free to use, but includes additional features for those with a subscription, which is $3 for every three months or $9 for a lifetime membership.

balance: meditation & sleep

a great app that includes nightly reviews, meditations, and sleep sounds. this app has great reviews, but it’s worth noting that it’s not completely free. it includes a trial, after which is $12 per month, or $70 per year.

insight timer - meditate & sleep

just as it sounds, this is another great app for meditations, ambient sounds for sleep, and progress tracking. there are tons of free things included in the app, but if you want to unlock everything, the premium plan is $10 per month or $60 per year.

structured - daily planner

an app with great reviews intended to help organize your daily tasks into achievable goals and track your progress. the app has basic features for free, but also includes a premium subscription if you want to unlock all the features.

routineflow: guided routines

this app caters to those who have difficulties staying focused and maintaining a set routine by guiding your routine for you and managing your progress. the app gives you one routine for free, but if you want another, you would need to pay for the $30 annual subscription.

how we feel

a wonderful free journaling app developed by therapists and scientists for logging your emotions, talking to other users, and tracking your mood patterns.

gentler streak fitness tracker

if you’re tired of the constant work and grind mentality, this may be the app for you. this app takes a gentler approach to fitness by tracking exercise, giving encouragement, and notifying you if you are overworking yourself. the app itself is free, but certain features require a subscription, which is $8 per month or $50 per year.

glo | yoga and meditation app

glo is a highly rated app for yoga, pilates, and meditation. unlike most of the other apps listed, you can’t really access much on glo for free. to access the full courses, they offer two plans: $30 per month or $245 per year.

waterllama

another adorable app that lets you track your water intake with a cute llama! super motivating and is free for basic features. if you want to unlock all features, the subscription is $7 per year.

mindllama

made by the same people as waterllama, this app allows you to practice and track your meditation and breathwork practice with a cute llama! like waterllama, the app is free, but some features require a subscription, which varies depending on whether you want the premium plan, the anxiety relief plan, or the sleep focused plan.

daily bean - simplest journal

another super cute app that helps you track your days and moods. the app itself is free, but a premium plan is also offered, which is $20 per year.

schmoody: mood & habit tracker

this app aims to help you through depression, anxiety, and/or adhd by helping you track your habits, talk to other users, and give you the resources to get you back on track. the free version includes the “essentials” to support mental health and well-being, but they also offer a premium version, which unlocks more resources and personalized options. the subscription is $15 per month, $60 per year, or $100 for a lifetime membership.

meditation timer - zenitizer

this is a meditation timer that focuses on simplicity and organization while tracking your meditation practice. a free version is available with a limited amount of content, but a premium version is also offered, which is $3 per month, $20 per year, or a $50 one-time payment.

mineral - gratitude journal

this is a free journaling app that is secure in the fact that you have to use face id in order to access your journal. this app is definitely more simple, but effective nonetheless.

focus keeper: productive timer

this app is a popular pomodoro-style timer app. i’ve heard that this app works wonders for many people with adhd. the app is free, but includes additional content and features for those with a subscription.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Why Writing Is So Lonely | Rin T.

Hello writers, and anyone else who uses Tumblr on a daily basis like me. (Although I’ve been inactive off and on.) It’s me, Rin, and I wanted to talk about something that I think a lot of us struggle with. Or at least anyone, and everyone who considers themselves writers.

The loneliness that can come with the writing life and being a writer. We spend so much of our time alone. It doesn’t matter if you're using your laptop or scribbling in notebooks. Or pacing around in your living room and muttering dialogue to yourself (which I'm completely guilty of.)

Writing is really a solitary passion, and it hasn't just recently been like that. I'm sure Jane Austen and Edgar Allen Poe dealt with similar feelings. And sometimes that isolation can take a real toll that many of us choose to ignore, both on our creativity, our passion, which I assume is writing in this case, and our mental health.

I’ve been writing for about 4 years now, mostly working on my own little passion projects that I plan on publishing and side hustles, not only for my writing project but also my blog (TheWrite AdviceForWriters). I’m currently knee-deep in 4 different novel drafts that I’m absolutely in love with. However, let me tell you. It can get Very lonely a lot of times. There are days when I feel like I’m the only person in the world who cares about these made-up characters and their fictional problems. The characters I create in my mind are so vivid that they seem like the only individuals who actually care about my passion. (They technically are, considering they are basically my passion.)

It’s so easy to start wondering whether anyone will ever want to read the stories I'm pouring my heart into. The self-doubt I get has been a big part of my writing journey, and sometimes it breaks my heart knowing that I may not please everyone who reads my stories. That I possibly could get the worst reviews out there on my book. If it's not perfect for society. For example, I have been reading and receiving news on Alex Aster and the amount of bad reviews she received for her LightLark novel, and she has had a few times where she’s stated she poured her heart into it. And it's not just Aster who deals with these as a published author; there are many others, and it sometimes scares me.

But you know what? I've come to realize that this loneliness is just part of the writer’s journey. And that it truly is going to be the process of every writer’s journey and career. It’s going to be one of the prominent challenges we have to face if we want to do this crazy, wonderful, painful thing we call writing. And I think it's important we talk about it, especially since I'm a blogger who owns a blog specifically for writers. The biggest reason I chose to create this blog was for this reason and the many other challenges of being a writer. 

I definitely will consider this blog post to be a discussion, and if anyone wants to reblog or reply to this blog post and start a conversation, please do so, just so we can support each other and figure out healthy ways to cope.

So, why is writing such a lonely pursit? Well, there are quite a few reasons, especially reasons for each individual writer; however, here are a few key reasons:

The Act Itself is Solitary.

At the end of the day, writing is something we have to do on our own. Sure, we can brainstorm with other writers and friends who write or get feedback from beta readers. Or even develop  and edit your manuscript with a professional book editor. But the actual act of putting words on the page is a solo endeavor. We’re the ones doing the typing, the (physical) writing, and the constant racking of our brains to find the perfect word or phrase to put down on paper or the blank page on a screen.

Even when we’re writing collaboratively, there’s still a certain level of isolation involved. I mean, after all, our individual writing process and creative visions have to align for the collaboration to work.

And let’s be real—aligning those things isn't always easy.

I’ve reached out to book editors, more so of developmental editors, which is an editor who guides the writer/author on the actual plot and outline of the novel itself. And they have mentioned the difficulties of needing to align with the creativity of the topic or novel. It isn't easy at all.

I know that for me, my most productive writing sessions happen when I'm alone. And I know for a fact I'm not alone on that.

Having no distractions when it's just me, my thoughts, and the blinking cursor on the screen with a Spotify playlist playing in the background. And while that can be deeply fulfilling and very productive, I will admit it can be incredibly lonely.

It's an Emotionally Draining Process.

Writing isn't just about stringing words together. It's about pouring our hearts and souls onto the page. Were digging into our deepest emotions, our biggest fear, our wildest dreams, our thoughts, our philosophy, I can go on. And that kind of vulnerability can be utterly exhausting.

When I'm in the process of drafting a new novel or the many current projects I'm working on. I often find myself emotionally drained at the end of the day. I've been living and breathing these characters, feeling their joys and pains as my own. describing the actions, words, and emotions these characters do and feel. And then after that, I have to close my laptop, put my pen and notebook away, and try to reenter the “real world"—a world that doesn’t always understand the weight I've been carrying. 

It can be so isolating, feeling like the only person who understands the emotional journey of your writing. Knowing what it feels like to create characters and their stories and emotions and personalities just as if they were real humans. Our non-writer friends and family members try their best to be supportive, but unless they experience it firsthand, they cannot fully grasp the depth of what we go through. I can tell when I explain my projects to others who aren't writers, it can sometimes feel like they don't care about what I'm saying to them. Or it can also feel like, my stories are just a synopsis for an underrated movie no one’s ever watched.

It's a Profession of Rejection

I think we all know, writing is a tough gig. It's a tough career and job. Even the most successful authors have had to face their fair share of rejection. The rejections can be received from agents, publishers, readers, or critics. (like I mentioned earlier), and that constant stream of “no’s” can really chip away at our confidence and sense of self-worth. And especially if you're an aspiring author and have not yet published your work. Knowing that rejection is a big part of the career of writing is frightening. Really.

I remember when one of my best friends, who is a writer, who is currently in the process of publishing her book, would send query after query only to receive endless rejections. She told me it felt like the entire world was telling her, “Your writing isn't good enough,” and that can be a pretty lonely and demoralizing place to be. It has made me anxious about getting to the querying phase, as I still haven't begun to query yet.

Even when we start to find some success, the fear of rejection never really goes away. Will readers love our next book as much as the last one? Will readers even like my debut novel? Will the critics tear it apart? I know when I first started writing my first novel project. I rewrote the first chapter. 13 times!! And that’s because of all the questions and doubts I had in mind. It’s enough to make any writer want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

And the thing is, as writers, we often don't have the same support system that people in other professions might have. We don't have coworkers to commiserate with or a boss to reassure us; it’s just us. Our doubts and the eerie silence of an empty inbox. For example, Ana Neu, one of my all-time favorite Author-Tuber's, has dealt with similar struggles. She’s mentioned several times how lonely she feels and how her family doesn't fully understand her love and passion for writing. And I completely agree with her. If you want to listen to more of her, please listen to her podcast and watch her videos on YouTube here.

So, now that I went over the key reasons as to why writing is so lonely, I didn't want to end this post on negativity, that’s why I wanted to list the main strategies that have helped me:

Build a Writer’s Community

One of the best ways to combat the isolation of writing is to surround yourself with other writers. That’s why I found social media to be a gift, not just for the other obvious reasons, but because we get to find writers around the world who enjoy the same things we like. Having that sense of community can be a game changer.

When I first started my Tumblr blog, TheWriteAdviceForwers, I was really hoping to create that kind of supportive space for writers. I wanted to create a space where anyone who enjoys writing—not just fiction writers, but anyone who finds writing to be a passion of theirs—can share their dreams and struggles with. It's been amazing to connect with so many incredible people who just “get” the unique challenges we face. Being able to share our achievements and share our compassions. It's been vital for my own mental health as a writer, and I hope that it can also be vital for all of you.

And of course, the community is not about venting or seeking validation from others; its about providing feedback, encouragement, and just being able to make friends. Having that makes the lonely parts of the writing process and journey feel a little less lonely.

Prioritize Self-care

It's so easy to get caught up in the work and neglect our well-being. There have been multiple times where I wouldn't take a break from my writing sessions and simply not eat and drink. I wouldn't give myself time to process everything I wrote, and I immediately after would criticize it.

However, I find that self-care is the most important part of combating the isolation that comes with being a writer. For me, that looks like making sure I get enough sleep. You can't process, learn, and remember anything when you don't have enough sleep. During my personal self-care, when I do 45-to 1-hour writing sessions, I usually take a short nap after. Eating nourishing meals and snacks is important, as is making time for the hobbies and activities that bring me joy. I usually like reading books, spending quality time with my family members, and very feisty (and sometimes scary) cat.

3. Cultivate Gratitude

When loneliness starts to creep in, it can be really helpful to shift our mindset and focus on what we are grateful for; this can be really productive and rewarding. Being a writer is a gift; we get to spend our days doing what we love, bringing our creative visions to life and sharing them with people who love literature. Readers are such a big part of being a writer, and they're huge motivations to me.

So, if you can, just take a moment to appreciate the joys of writing. For example, if you have any writing quirks, I personally have to wear bracelets on both of my wrists in order to produce some type of creativity when I write. I'm not sure why it's just something I noticed. I also really love writing my manuscripts physically. I tend to do this when I'm suffering from writer's block, and for some reason my writing style is a lot better.

And don't forget the many other joys of writing, like drafting, and the excitement of sharing your work with others. Having a new idea come to mind that fits perfectly in your plot. Or even a reader or beta reader sharing a comment on your work and giving you encouragement.

Also, please celebrate your wins; it makes writing all too fun, and it's a great way to integrate writing into the real world.

End Note

I wanted to write this post because I know a lot of us deal with feeling lonely; I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time, and I wanted to share it with Tumblr. I feel like each and every one of you all feel the same way. And that’s why I created my Tumblr community; that's the reason I created this blog, and that's the reason I strive to build this into an entire brand.

I want to bring more awareness to writers, we are the people behind the stories, movies, and media that we consume today, and we barely get any credit for our work. I want to make a brand where others who never thought writing to be their passion could actually for once consider “Is writing for me?”

I feel like it's such an underrated yet overrated passion. Yet it's not acknowledged as much. 

I hope this post can make you understand that writing is 90% lonely and you are not crazy for thinking so. But, we can use the resources we have today, like social media, to change that and make writing better for the present and the future. 

Thank you all for reading. And please, if you are considering joining a community if you haven't already, please join The Write Right Society. We recently met 100 members, and the community is continuing to grow.

[avatarfandompolice]

Oh, you wanted more bad news out of NATLA that shows that they have no idea what they’re doing?

Well, look no further!

Here’s them acting like they care about representation for blind/low vision actors and then just casting someone who isn’t anyway:

Here’s their very detailed analysis of the purpose of the show going into the second season:

Wow that’s crazy that the live action show is going to have live action versions of the story in the animation! Very insightful! What else is there to say?

Wait, there were brilliant plans from Sokka in Book 1 of NATLA? Katara was actually in Book 1 too? I thought that was just a cardboard cutout of her in the background of some shots!

In all seriousness, what the actual fuck is going on here? “Aang will learn a new form of bending or two” yeah only because you literally had more screen time than the original did and spent all that time shoving in random references to prove you saw the old show while completely butchering the characters and story to the point where you couldn’t fit Aang learning waterbending in. What a fucking joke.

And the slide of “there’s no war in Ba Sing Se” in here just to do the same thing? Are we really just using out of context quotes from the original show to prove credibility in adaptation here? Is that really the extent they can go to say they honor the original? Are they so incapable of coming up with new, interesting details to add that they’re just resorting to putting memorable quotes in places where they make no sense? Guess we know these new showrunners will stay consistent with the original one.

Why in God’s name is anyone looking forward to this. Please please please let this nightmare end.

[serickswrites]

Hey :)

Can you write a fic where whumpee is new to the team and has a dark mysterioys past - so when their framed as a traitor the team believes them.There beaten up by some members of team despite protests of not being the traitor and given to whumper o put in custody who posses as a good person and planned it all to have them.

The team eventually uncovers the truth that whumper is bad and is actually the traitir-however whumper already tortured whumpee-sexually assaulting them,branding their name into their arm.When they break into whumper's place-whimper is already dead courtesy if whumpee who managed to free thrmselvez and kill them-however they collapse upon seeing their team.

The team us guilt ridden and doesn't know how to make amends and team leader feels like a failure

It's ok if your not interested in doing it♡

Anon, Anon, Anon! When I tell you that I have had an idea like this on my back burner for a while, I cannot tell you how long it has sat there. I have scrapped this story twice. But, because you are voicing exactly what I wanted to write several times, I'm going to do this. This is a series and will be posted under the title "Monster"

Please enjoy!

Warnings: betrayal, physical violence, unconsciousness, captivity, restraints

"Leave your weapon on the table," Team Leader said coldly as they watched Smallest Teammate.

Smallest Teammate was confusion. What had happened? Team Leader never talked to them like this. "What, I don't understand? What--"

"Put your weapon on the table," Team Leader ordered.

"We know who you really are," Teammate One hissed.

Smallest Teammate's mouth went dry. "I can explain, let me--"

"You sold us out!" Teammate Two stepped forward angrily. "You sold us out after we accepted you!"

Before Smallest Teammate could open their mouth, Teammate Two swung, their fist connecting with Smallest Teammate's cheek. Smallest Teammate didn't try to fight back. They hunched over themself as Teammate Two and Teammate Three surged forward.

"You sold us out!"

"How could you!"

"Whumper revealed exactly who you are!"

Teammate One's words froze Smallest Teammate's heart. Whumper. Whumper had infiltrated the team. Whumper had found them. "I'm not....Whumper....they..." Smallest Teammate couldn't get a good word in as the team was unrelenting in their beating.

"I don't want to hear another lie from you," Team Leader said, their voice very close. Smallest Teammate could see them through the flailing limbs of their team. "You lied to all of us. You lied to me. And you sold us, all of us, out."

"Pl-Pl-Please," Smallest Teammate tried. Their body hurt. Everything hurt. The team was relentless in their beating. If they fought back, they would prove Whumper right. And so they had to hope that the team wouldn't kill them.

"Whumper has graciously offered to take you off our hands and turn you into the proper authorities," Team Leader sneered as they stared down at Smallest Teammate. "They will be here soon to collect you."

And though Smallest Teammate wanted to respond, wanted to beg for mercy. They couldn't. The darkness that had edged their vision for so long as becoming all consuming. They could only hope that Team Leader would realize their mistake sooner rather than later. And that Whumper wouldn't kill them yet.

Tags: @acer-whumpstuff

[erathene]

Instinct (Part 2)

Summary: Elrond is restless, and cannot shake the unease that plagues his mind. Suddenly, his gift of foresight shows him a vision of his adopted son Estel in trouble. It will take all of his fatherly instincts to patiently wait for news of Estel's wellbeing, having sent Elladan and Elrohir straight into the face of danger.

Word count: 2.2k

Pairing: Elrond & Estel, Elrond & Elladan and Elrohir.

Warnings: Generous amounts of canon-typical violence, including graphic descriptions of blood, injury, and loss of consciousness. Angst including self-doubt and anxiety. Mention of death.

AO3 Link: Instinct

Author's note: Here it is! Part 2 of the fic I created for @elrondweek with the prompts "Family and Love". Originally this was going to be 2 parts, but it looks like there will be a Part 3! 😅 I feel like I'm turning up the dial on the whump and angst in this part, so please heed the warnings. Enjoy!

......................

"Tracks."

Elladan paused to look at the section of ground where Elrohir was pointing, crouching low to get a better view of the imprints left in the dried mud. The tracks were not fresh, but neither were they old, and the size and shape provided little doubt as to who had made them.

"Definitely orcs," noted Elladan quietly with a frown, his distaste for the foul creatures evident in his tone. He swept a few fallen leaves away from the area with his hand to further examine the tracks, only to see an additional shape that was unlike the rest. "And human." He glanced up to exchange a knowing look with Elrohir.

Estel.

The brothers did not have to converse any further to confirm they were on the right path. Ever since their father had reluctantly revealed his vision, the twins had been determined to locate their brother and bring him home. Both Elladan and Elrohir hated seeing their father worry incessantly for his youngest son. They were even more determined to cut down and destroy the orcs; the foul creatures would soon know it had been a grave mistake to launch an assault against the house of Elrond.

It was a mistake they would never forgive. Not after what had happened to their beloved mother. They would track these beasts down and cut them limb from limb.

And they were close.

---

Ragged gasping was the first thing Aragorn heard as he began to come round from his unconscious state. His lungs drew in hungry breaths as if searching for oxygen in the air around him. His eyelids were too heavy to lift, and a high pitched ringing blasted in his ears. Valar, everything hurt. He slowly became aware that he was sitting on the cold earth, albeit slumped sideways against the trunk of a large tree; the surface of the bark touching his cheek was coarse and rough, and the scent of sap passed through his nostrils with each gasp he took.

Breathing was far more difficult than he remembered.

No sooner had this thought wandered through his mind, his senses encountered a further onslaught of pain. White hot burning radiated through his entire body, causing him to groan weakly. Dizziness made his head spin and he kept his eyes firmly shut, for if he opened them he would surely see the world gyrating. The ranger's mind flickered between the experienced healer in himself, inwardly trying to examine every inch of his being for the source of the agony, and the injured patient who wanted nothing more than to surrender to the pain and slip into oblivion. His next breath caused him to descend into a coughing fit, and he desperately clutched his side in an attempt to lessen the torment.

As he began to regain control and steady his breathing, Aragorn idly wondered how it was he found himself here and in this state. He had been travelling alone, that much he remembered. He had departed through the gates of Rivendell over a fortnight ago, but at present he was unable to recall the purpose of leaving his father's halls. Flashes of his journey came through now; picking his way through the wilds, the first signs of winter beginning to show. Crossing small streams edged with ice, brushing past foliage crisp with frost. His breath rising like smoke in the frigid morning air. Staying off the road. The landscape around him empty and peaceful.

Until the orcs had appeared.

The village under attack. The citizens defenceless. The filthy orc with its filthy hands around his neck, choking him, air unable to reach his lungs...

Remembering these events was enough to drive his eyes open with panic. His hand automatically went to his closest weapon: a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He willed the ringing in his ears to abate as he listened for any unusual sounds. True to his instincts, unnatural crashes through forest undergrowth could be heard, and they were far too close for comfort.

"That filthy whelp is around here somewhere, find him!" the harsh command was barked out by one of the orc leaders, it's voice carrying through the trees. Aragorn's panic rose. He had to move, and move fast.

It took all his strength to rise to his feet. His hand shook as he gripped the tree, willing the black spots that clouded his vision to recede. The sound of orcs on the move was growing louder by the second. He had only taken a few paces forwards when pain flared to the right of his navel, causing him to inhale sharply and reach for his side. His palm came away warm and wet with his own blood; he made a mental note to check the wound properly when he was clear of danger. For now, applying pressure and getting himself to safety was the best he could do.

Aragorn half walked, half ran falteringly through the trees, trying his best to stick behind shrubs and undergrowth to avoid being seen. He was thankful for his ranger's cloak which blended him into the landscape, his hood obscuring his human features, but at present it was his only defence. He was in no position to outrun these beasts, and without knowing how many remained he was hesitant to draw his sword and fight. He could hide, but his scent would not be hidden for long and they would surely track him down with ease. His threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting how the assailants were edging closer on his location. The orcs were tightening the noose.

Not far away to his right, the land dipped away down a steep embankment to a river. He hesitated for a moment before switching direction, having concluded that it was his only option. In his haste, his feet slipped out from beneath him on the muddy riverbank, causing him to land less than gracefully into the shallows of the perishing water. His pain flared angrily with the fall, and he silently prayed to the Valar that the orcs had not overheard neither the splash nor his cry of suffering. The sounds of the orcs nearby thundered louder than ever. His heart raced in his chest and his lungs heaved as he looked up and down the river, searching for options.

In that moment, Aragorn caught sight of a large log wedged in rocks on the opposite bank. Foliage still decorated the branches, and it was big enough to serve as a hiding place, but he knew the orcs would still be able to follow his scent. Now desperate to evade the enemy, he mustered some of his waning strength to scoop handfuls of wet mud and dirt from the water's edge, running it through his hair and over his face. As he smeared the muck across his neck and shoulders, the biting sting of another open wound made itself known and he remembered the arrow he had ripped from his flesh. He winced. Covering an open wound with mud would probably do him no favours later, but the alternative of being caught would be infinitely worse. He piled more mud on his limbs and down his side where the larger wound was still weeping fresh blood. The smell of the filth was enough to set his stomach on edge, yet this gave him the reassurance that his true scent would be masked.

With some difficulty, he pushed himself to his feet, and clutching the wound at his side he waded across the sweeping current towards the trapped log. The water, which came up to his waist in places, was biting cold and left goosebumps on his skin. Once he reached the rocks, he wasted no time concealing himself within the twisted boughs, sinking into the water up to his neck and using the leaf-lined branches as his disguise. The chill of the water took his breath away, and he had to clench his jaw shut to stop his teeth chattering.

He had concealed himself just in time. From his hiding place, Aragorn watched as an orc appeared from the tree line at the top of the embankment. The monster looked around carefully, sniffing the air for any trace of the human and stepping down to the water's edge. The ranger silently cursed himself for not obscuring the footprints he had left behind in the mud.

A second orc appeared on the ridge, calling down to the first in black speech and sending further chills across the hidden man's skin. Aragorn did not need to understand the creature's foul utterances to know they were still looking for him. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum. Both orcs were now looking at the mud beneath their feet and exchanging grunts. They might be slow-minded, but not completely stupid, and they would soon work out that Aragorn had entered the water.

A third, larger orc then appeared on the scene, his weapon and armour marking him out as a leader. He saw his two subordinates apparently loitering by the water and cursed them. "Get back to hunting, scum! If that human's flesh isn't roasting on my campfire tonight, it will be yours instead!"

Aragorn exhaled in relief as the orcs dissipated back into the trees. With the immediate danger gone, his adrenaline was quickly replaced by physical suffering once more. His head ached and he felt weary; he did not need to be an expert healer to know that blood loss from the untreated lacerations was the likely cause. Not yet ready to abandon his safe space, he rose from the water and dangled his arms and chest over a sturdy bough, letting his limbs float in the swift current. A shiver of cold coursed through his body. He would leave the water in a minute, he just needed a quick rest, and this feeling of weightlessness was a welcome reprieve. His head came down to settle against the bark of the log. Just a moment to rest. His mind felt foggy, coherent thoughts evaporating. Just a minute. His eyelids closed. Rest.

---

Elrond paced his study. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. No matter how many times he traversed the soft rugs or glanced across at the open window, his entire being remained restless.

Just over a week had passed since he had seen Estel in a vision of foresight. Since then, Elrond had barely eaten, had taken no rest, and had done little else other than roam the various rooms and hallways of Imladris. As the days crept by, he could no longer pretend that his worries and woes were not devouring him from the inside. Renowned for being as kind as summer, Elrond's temperament had changed, becoming as chilled and cold as a midwinter's night. He had always treated all of his household staff with respect, regardless of length of service or rank. Yet now he had become irritable, snapping at those who brought him meals when he had no desire to eat, or brought him steaming cups of tea instead of news of his sons.

The sons he had willingly sent into the mouth of danger.

In the immediate aftermath of the vision, Elladan and Elrohir had insisted their father to tell them what he had seen. Elrond had granted their request, albeit reluctantly; the scenes he had gleaned through foresight were not ones he wished to relive again, nor implant into the minds of his family. However, both Elladan and Elrohir were well aware of their father's gift and how it occasionally appeared without his will or consent.

They were also well aware of how the visions appeared clearest when the subject was near death.

"Estel will be alright, father," Elladan had reassured his father as the brothers readied for their departure in the stables. Elrohir nodded in Elrond's direction as he tossed the saddle over his horse and began to tightly secure the fastenings.

Elrond's brow creased as he brought his hand to the bridge of his nose. "Arathorn suffered greatly at the hands of orcs; I worry the same fate has befallen Estel," he said quietly.

Elladan looked over his shoulder to see several of the household staff approaching, their arms laden with weapons. The twin's blades had been sharpened at the forge, and their quivers restocked by the arrowsmiths. He took his own equipment and quickly loaded it to his steed.

Elrohir crossed the stable to collect his sword, and place his hand on his father's shoulder. "We will find him, Ada. No matter what it takes."

Elrond shook his head in the face of his eldest son. "I should have done more. I should have kept him here where he was safe, away from--"

"What does your instinct tell you?"

The lord of Imladris was temporarily taken aback by his son's question. He placed a trembling hand on his chest, touching his collarbone, as he searched his thoughts. Somewhere, deep down, he knew his youngest son was not lost. Not yet. Regardless of the horrors his foresight had shown him, his instinct as a father told him they had not won out. Estel was alive, he could feel it. 

Elrond blinked as the recollection of his final conversation with his eldest sons slid away, returning his study to the forefront of his sight. The sentiment he felt down in the stables of his son's wellbeing clung to him like a shadow as he continued to pace the room. Yet it was not enough to fully dissipate his concerns; he would not be content until Estel walked through the gates of Imladris, until he could hold him in his arms once more.

He said a silent prayer to the Valar that his instinct was right.

[theelizamanelli]

Tengoku

Reina Iyashi wants a normal, mundane existence until Satoru Gojo takes a special interest in her uncanny ability to bring people back to life (or so Itadori says) and offers her a job as his assistant at Jujutsu High. Tags: 18+, satoru gojo x female oc, boss x assistant, golden retriever x black cat, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, romance, one bed link to all chapters link to ao3

——————————————————————————————————

Chapter Nine

——————————————————————————————————

Reina tapped her pen on the table, glancing at the clock: 1708.

Gojo stood abruptly, hands pressed to the top of the wood as he leaned forward - shouting at the principal. 

“You can’t change the dress code! Iyashi belongs in skirts!” He pointed in Reina’s direction, she held her hands up innocently. 

“Sit down, Satoru.” Yaga replied with a long sigh. “I am not changing the dress code, some of the girls have asked for pants instead of skirts as an option.”

The meeting droned on, Reina sat next to Gojo carefully noting what commitments had been made on his behalf. She highlighted the calendar, penciling in the new additions. 

In her peripheral vision, Gojo stretched his legs forward with a wide stance - letting his head fall back over the edge of the chair.

Reina blushed, quickly averting her eyes as the stance brought the memory of the town car racing through her mind. The pencil slipped from her fingers, clattering to the ground.

Sliding the chair backwards, Reina leaned down to see where it rolled to.

“I hope I’m not distracting you with how funny and hot I am.” Gojo whispered, a smile fighting to appear on his lips. 

Her scathing look burned into him, he shrugged and turned his attention back to the principal. Reina scurried under the table to grab the pencil, sitting back onto her shins. She turned in an attempt to grab the seat of her chair to help her stand up.

Gojo was closer to her than she anticipated, her body conveniently occupying the space directly in between his legs.

He grinned down at her before murmuring, “This feels oddly familiar.” 

Reina’s brows furrowed before she smacked his knee, Gojo winced - a small yelp escaping his mouth.

“What’s going on down there, Iyashi?” Yaga asked, his face weary - the exhaustion of having to lead this obnoxious group evident.��

“Nothing, sir. I’m sorry to interrupt.” Reina quickly returned to her seat, keeping her head down for the remainder of the meeting.

Gojo had taken every opportunity to tease her about the post dinner incident since it occurred. She had woken up the next day in her own bed with a terrible headache - her memory intact. 

Regrettably. 

Reina blamed the cocktails and Gojo’s navy blue suit for her behavior. There was a section of her conscience that reminded her it had been two years since she had last been intimate - a better reason than most for her boldness. 

She decided that the next joke he made she would tell him so.

Well, not the last part. Nor the second part. Reina would tell him it was the five cocktails he bought her. So in reality it was Gojo’s fault.

She shook her head at the ridiculous reasoning. 

Reina never had the opportunity to address it, Gojo bounced from mission to meeting to mission over the next two weeks. She barely saw him long enough to hand the planner over or the letters, taking note that his normal sunny disposition was slowly dissolving. Only solidifying when his students were in the vicinity. 

Gojo sat at his desk, various questions regarding the curses they were assigned flying at him. Reina entered the classroom, stirring the contents of a mug before setting it down in front of him. 

Looking up at her, a faint smile appeared on his lips, “What’s this?”

“Herbal tea.” She responded, turning towards the students. 

Fushiguro sat at his desk, writing out his report. Kugisaki strained to look at what was on his sheet of paper. Itadori focused intently on the book in front of him, intermittently gasping.

“Are you worried about me, Iyashi?” He teased lightly, his eyes unreadable behind the blindfold. 

Reina avoided his gaze, “No, if you die then I’ll be unemployed again.”

Gojo was gone by the end of the day, she returned to his classroom to grab the mug. Fushiguro sat alone by the window, still writing.

He raised his chin, making eye contact with Reina as she stepped towards the door.

“He’s gone again, isn’t he?” He asked softly.

“Yes, Fushiguro, he’ll be back soon,” She answered, turning to face him.

“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” Fushiguro replied, returning his attention to the notebook. 

Reina stared at the empty coffee mug before answering, “Yes.”

There was a long pause before he said, “Me too.”

——————————————————————————————————

A heavy cold seeps into Reina’s body as she steps forward, a low whimpering sliding underneath the door.

A vase knocks over on its side, sliding off of the nightstand to the ground with a rough clatter. 

“Hana?” she whispers into the dark.

A scream breaks through the silence as her hand wraps around the door handle - Reina shoves it forward.

Blood splatters across her vision.

Reina sprang forward with a gasp, a cold sweat dripping down her neck. Her eyes adjusted to the dark quickly, recognizing the familiar features of her bedroom. 

She sighed, looking at the clock: 0308. Pulling the covers from her body, she padded across the floor to the door. Opening it slowly, she made her way towards the kitchen.

The soft sounds of the television floated through the air as she entered the living area. 

Gojo sat on the couch, one arm resting on the back with a drink lazily hanging from his fingers. His chin tucked forward, blue eyes illuminated by the light of the screen. His lips were tight and his jaw clenched. 

“One hundred and three people were murdered outside of Osaka tonight. Suspect at large.” the newscaster droned in the background. Reina peeked over and saw images of the ambulance crews pushing gurneys covered with sheets.

She shivered as a gust of wind licked her legs, she looked at the patio door sitting ajar. 

“Are you crazy, Gojo? You’ll get sick.” She moved towards the door, closing it with a swift thud. 

His stare glued to the screen, she noted that he had yet to acknowledge her presence. The dark circles gathered on his face, the whites of his eyes tinged with red. 

Reina took a few tentative steps in his direction, she reached down and grabbed the remote. The television shut off with a loud click, she tossed it back onto the table before turning towards him. 

“They’re all dead,” Gojo broke the silence with the devastating line.

Reina’s eyes softened as she stood in front of him, his stare blank. 

“You did everything you could.” Reina knew that to be true without being present for the incident - he always did.

“I could have done more.” He replied, his tone deadpan.

“No, the great Satoru Gojo could not have done more.” She reached her hand towards him, resting it on his shoulder. “He did everything he could.”

 “You can’t save everyone,” she whispered with a comforting squeeze of her fingers. 

Gojo reached out and wrapped his arms around her torso, pulling her to stand in between his legs. He nuzzled his face into her bellybutton.

Reina stood frozen, unsure. Physical comfort or intimacy was not her strong suit - he tightened his grip in response.

Slowly resting her arms on his back, she instinctively rubbed her hand in circles. Stopping intermittently to caress the back of his neck with her fingers.

Surprisingly, Reina found that she did not hate the contact. 

Several minutes passed before Gojo released his hold and laid down on the couch, finally resting his eyes. Reina covered him with a blanket and removed his glasses, setting them on the table. She took a step towards the kitchen before springing back - Gojo’s fist tangled in her shirt. 

Reina slowly unfurled his hand and rested it back on the couch. She resigned herself to sit on the cushion next to him until he slipped into a deeper sleep. 

His hair brushed against her bare leg as she admired his face. The normally confident, well dressed, and laid back man appeared exhausted - the lines in his forehead prominent and his typically natural smile tipped downward at rest. 

This troubled Reina, how she didn’t notice sooner that he was running on empty. She could have intervened before he got to this breaking point. 

He stirred slightly in his sleep which prompted Reina to softly run her fingers through his hair, settling him. 

——————————————————————————————————

The birds chirped outside as the light streamed through the room, Reina opened one eye with a squint. She propped herself up on her elbow, surveying the space. 

The living area appeared to be in its normal state, Gojo’s glasses and drink rested on the table. 

A low rumble sounded from behind her, Reina quickly turned her head in its direction. Gojo lay parallel to her on the couch, his arm wrapped around her waist. 

Her cheeks flooded with heat, her eyes wide as she returned her gaze forward. 

He stretched before tightening his hold on her, pressing her back against him. 

“Iyashi, lay down.” He mumbled into her shirt. 

He lightly pressed her down, returning his arm to its original position - wrapped around her stomach. 

Gojo rested his chin on her shoulder before saying, “It’s too early, stop thinking about it,” his breath warm on her neck.

A chill spread down her spine as she threw the covers off - standing abruptly. 

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he turned his gaze to her, “Please tell me.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Reina said with an incredulous look.

“You’re about to,” Gojo rolled to his back, placing his hands on his chest.

“What do you think you’re doing - working yourself to death?” She shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him.

He winced, “The volume, Iyashi. It’s so early.” 

“You can’t help anyone in this state!” Reina ignored his request, “Irresponsible! Reckless!” 

She began to pace as she listed a few more, Gojo lifted a hand into the air - counting the adjectives.

“Eight,” He said once she finished her rambling.

“What?” Reina asked, her tone filled with irritation.

“Go on.” He urged her with his hands to continue.

“How could you be so reckless?” She returned to her original volume.

“You said that one already. It was number two.” He held up his fingers to mimic where it was in the order.

Reina sighed, “Gojo, I’m serious.” she took a step towards the couch to look down at him. “You have to take better care of yourself.”

“I don’t know, if it means you’ll make me herbal tea more often then I might not,” He grinned up at her, one eye squinting in the light.

Though she was irritated, Reina found relief in his teasing words - he was at least acting himself. 

“If you don’t figure out how to balance work and your health then you’re going to have to start bringing someone with you on your trips.” She crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. 

“Okay, come with me then.” He replied, closing his eyes.

“What? Me?” Reina staggered momentarily, not expecting his response. 

“Why not? You’re a good fighter, a great cuddler, and only a pain in the ass sometimes.” He re-adjusted his head, his hair brushing against the couch. 

“Well, I meant another one of the jujutsu sorcerers,” she replied hastily.

“Yeah, I am asking another one of the jujutsu sorcerers.”

——————————————————————————————————

The train station marquis flashed “Sawara” as Reina climbed the steps to enter the compartment, Gojo followed behind holding onto their luggage. He placed it above their heads on the metal grates as Reina took the window seat. 

This was hardly what she had in mind when she told him he should bring someone along. She had hoped it would be Fushiguro, a way to put his worries at ease. 

Gojo collapsed into the seat next to her, “Geez, Iyashi, how much did you bring?”

“I thought you were the strongest in the world?” She quipped, admiring the scenery as the train began to move.

“If there’s a body in there you’re legally required to tell me as your boss.” He turned towards her, feigning a serious tone before whispering, “Is it Nobara? She can be real annoying sometimes. May she rest in peace.”

Reina fought a smile as she shook her head, pushing her elbow into his side playfully. 

Gojo chuckled and rested his hand on her knee - jostling it slightly, “I saw that smile, Iyashi.”

The three hour train ride passed without incident, Gojo sleeping intermittently and Reina listening to music as she stared out the window. 

As the vessel came to a stop, Gojo retrieved the luggage and headed for the door - Reina a few steps behind. The seaside town proved its beauty within minutes of their arrival - the sunset falling below the water line, splashing colors over the surface. 

Gojo led them into the inn, setting their luggage to the side. Reina surveyed the building, noting the older structure. The rural town lagged behind in infrastructure, making up for it in aesthetic. 

“We’re on the third floor, Iyashi.” Gojo called out, nodding his head towards the stairs. 

They ascended, turning down the corridor and following the signs until they reached 308. 

Gojo pushed the door open, holding it wide for Reina to enter.

“Is this my room or yours?” she asked as she looked around.

Shoving the luggage inside the door with a loud thwump, he replied “It’s our room.”

Reina plopped down on the bed, the words not registering as her hands ran along the soft comforter.

Her head whipped towards Gojo before she shouted, “Ours?”

He grinned, admiring Reina as she sat on the only bed in the room.

——————————————————————————————————

chapter ten

if you want to be notified when a new chapter is posted

[sidehowriting]

🌹🌹🌹

!!!! I never expected 1 let alone 3!

Ok, here's one from a Thor fic I started writing, then rewriting, ages ago and maybe one day I shall finish it.

"Just because I agreed to an arranged marriage does not mean I don't like sweet happy endings."

Here's one from a Criminal Minds fic I have going on ff.net. This is wayyyyyyy ahead of what is currently posted but maybe one day we'll get this far (publicly).

“I find out, that after months of trying, we’re finally having another kid, from Emily, because she fucked up and said ‘my wife and kids.’

I am also completely obsessed with my Sims family. When I'm burnt out writing fandom fic, sometimes I write stories about my Sims. Here's one!

"It's okay," she said, fighting back the urge to add 'I deserve it.'

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 15

We are set to arrive on Fendaar in two cycles. As we are currently stuck on the SIIR Noxos, I have concluded that the passages of time that I am free of duties would be best spent continuing to observe the human. The human, on the other hand, seemed to have different plans in that matter, as it took me an unusually long amount of time to locate her.

As I eventually found her, she seemed to be working on one of the control panels in the main control room, so I may excuse her absence with duties she had to attend to. As she saw me, although, she seemed rather…excited (this is obviously mere speculation, as the study of the Terran so far has provided far too little evidence to prove such theories)?

As she rolled out from under the control board and sighted me, her face once again split into a wide opening revealing her horrifying amount of teeth.

"Hey! Dude!", she said, raising to her full height and stepping towards me, still baring her teeth, although I did not recoil, as I did not want to seem impolite. She raised her arms, each pointing into a different direction, away from their connection to the human's body.

"Human Quinn. How are you?"

"Me? I‘m fine, the whole 'wandering around in space' thing just made me throw up, I honestly don‘t know why they insisted on keeping me there for two whole days."

The ends of her fingers, studded with claw-like (rather short and rounded instead of sharp, perhaps they were not meant to function as claws at all, or perhaps the beings on Terra were far different from what I knew, and therefore a shape like this was far more useful to hunt) protuberances, scraped over the back of the connection between her head and her upper body. If I interpreted her facial expression correctly, she seemed to be thinking.

"Maybe I got a light concussion too, I’m not entirely sure. But it's improbable, because I’m fine now."

I decided to focus on one piece of information at a time. "Well, this "throwing up" can certainly not be a healthy nor normal process, otherwise, it would not seem so violently painful and involuntary, would it?"

"Well it‘s not…unnatural, it‘s just something that can happen. And about health, it‘s not unhealthy, it usually helps us to get rid of stuff that is bad for our bodies!", she eludicated, moving one of her arms in a rather random manner.

"The scientists have concluded that this fluid is highly acidic. If this 'stuff' is so harmful to you, wouldn‘t it just dissolve in this fluid before being able to cause any further harm?"

Quinn seemed to think about that. 

"Well, just because it gets dissolved, doesn‘t mean it‘s gone, you know? It's still in our bodies, and we have to get rid of it somehow. And if it needs to be fast, we throw up. Honestly, I‘d definitely explain this further to you, but Biology‘s never really been my strongest subject, ya know what I mean?"

I did not, in fact, know what she meant, but I decided against questioning her further.

After a pause the Terran spoke up again: "So, this planet we're landing on..." "Fendaar.", I clarified. "Right. So, this planet that we‘re going to, it‘s a desert, right?" "That is correct." "So, is it a sand, an ice or, I guess you could also count rock desert? 'Cuz on my planet, we‘ve got all of those types."

"Fendaar‘s ecosystem is mostly made up out of sandlike landscapes with rather scarce vegetation and biodiversity. Most of the planets in system 36-54 have rather extreme temperature ranges, and Fendaar is no exception.", I eludicated.

"Alright, cool.", she spoke, rolling back under the underside of the control panel she had been working on previously. She seemed to be sitting, or rather lying, on a piece of metal with four small wheels attached to it, allowing her to move it around.

"Your planet.", I initiated. 

"Yeah?", she responded, while continuing her work on the wiring.

"Am I assuming correctly that your planet has a far bigger biodiversity?"

"Oh, yeah.", there was a small spring in her voice, as if she had let out air in the middle of speaking. "Big biodiversity. We‘ve got deserts and rainforests, coral reefs and permafrost - although perhaps not for that long anymore - mountain ranges and all that stuff."

"Interesting.", I supplied, for lack of a better response. If Terra had such differences in temperature and landscapes, it was a logical conclusion that the humans had evolved to survive under such circumstances.

"Yeah."

It was unusually quiet for some time. That was, until Quinn rolled out from the underside of the control panels.

"Alright, I‘m done." She took a deep breath before opening her mouth once again. Then, all of a sudden, the muscles of her face started contracting as if she was plagued by an invisible pain. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let out horrifying noise, holding an arm angled in front of her nose and mouth. The noise itself was not particularly loud or long, but I recoiled either way, as a measure of safety. I could not be certain if this gesture was meant to harm me, after all.

Quinn‘s arm sank down again as her other hand rubbed at her nose. She huffed, a sound far less threatening than the one she had produced a moment ago. One of the hair patches above her visual organs raised itself, prompting the question to arise if human hair was controlled by muscles or if it had a mind of its own, although this was a question that could be further investigated later. One of the corners of her mouth raised, revealing the seemingly sharpest teeth in her mouth.

"I guess dust is an inter-galactic thing, huh?"

I did not respond. Her face muscles contracted, causing the skin above her visual organs to crease.

"Hey, you okay? You‘re looking a little spooked over there."

"Human, I do not wish to cause you discomfort, but, if I may ask, what was the purpose of the noise you just uttered?"

She did not respond for a moment, blinking with both of her eyes as she stared at me. It was quite unsettling, considering her previous explanation, that most humans preferred not being stared at. 

"I…sneezed?" The creases in the skin above her eyes deepened.

My front pliers uttered another rattling sound. "What is this 'sneezing'? What purpose does it serve?" I admit, I was quite curious. Terrans seemed much more complex than I had previously assumed.

She paused, seemingly to think of an answer. "Well, it‘s like…if something is bothering us at or in out nose, like dust, for example, it‘s kind of the natural response to that. To keep things out of our bodies that don‘t belong there."

"Human bodies seem to require a lot of defense mechanisms.", I commented.

She raised and lowered the connection of her arms to her upper body, baring her teeth once again while raising herself to her full height, using one of her arms as support.

"Y’know, it’s surprisingly hard to explain something you’re so used to to someone who’s never heard of it. I guess I still have to work on the whole 'awareness that I‘m around aliens' thing. S‘ kind of surreal."

She patted off her clothing, as if to remove non-existent filth once again. I had noticed the past few cycles that most of her clothing seemed to consist of several, usually differently-coloured, pieces of fabric. 

Her clothes usually covered her body from the connection between her arms and torso to the connection between her legs and, presumably, her feet. Her feet were usually also covered, although I could not determine the purpose it was supposed to serve in the environment we are currently in, although the theory that the conditions on Earth are vastly different compared to the ones on the SIIR Noxos is gaining more probability, based on the Terran's narrations.

The human seemed to evaluate a question she wanted to ask (this is, of course, a mere speculation based on previous observations: her face muscles were contracted to form a crease over her visual organs, which could so far most likely be interpreted as confusion, thoughtfulness or discomfort; her head was both slightly raised and tilted to one side at the same time, a gesture that was most likely supposed to convey an ongoing thought process).

Although, before she could utter a noise, V-7 informed us of a request from the Vitrichl to gather for a matter of importance.

The purpose of his summoning was to divide the crew into several smaller groups that were to be assigned with different tasks to fulfill once we sucessfully landed on Fendaar.

I was grouped with the Terran, which was unsurprising, as well as Tkzt, a member of the species that is widely known across the galaxies as Ctzas (it is to note that the Ctzas have not evolved any form of written language and communicate exclusively through clicking and chittering sounds. The written forms of, for example, names of this species, are written by other species to produce approximately the same sound as the Ctzas make when recited verbally).

Tkzt, as a member of the unit controlling supply chains and keeping a list of the stock of the SIIR Noxos, would make a helpful addition in our task of seeking out the nearest settlement in order to stock up on supplies.

After all matters of importance were settled, the crew dissipated, continuing their respective tasks. The Terran was ordered to stay and to assist the Vitrichl in another matter, which is the reason I did not cross paths with the human again for the rest of this cycle.

Despite this, I am positive that accompanying the human on an foreign planet will give me a further insight into the species' mannerisms and interaction manners with foreign species, which will prove to be helpful further on in studying the human.

[kingdomoftyto]

...BIG FEELS AND BIG PLOT DEVELOPMENTS AT THE END OF THAT BOOK, HUH

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[memorys-skyscraper]

the scene in yakuza 5 where shinada and milky dance on the roof talking about how they should run away and start over in a new town with new jobs and new lives, only for milky to abruptly stop and let shinada go when she gets called back downstairs to work, while shinada is sent stumbling by suddenly being let go until he too comes to a stop, burns a hole in my brain

[lesbiradshaw]

he’s only fifteen.

[toasteaa]

We've now hit the time of the day where Eclair starts lore dumping on me and I just have to take it until she's done. Is she crying? A little - don't worry about that. It's for character development.

[yourcalamity]

i feel worse tonight than i have in a while

[beegalactica]

real 'glow up' advice i wish i had

Imagine getting to the point in life where YOU are your own vision board; where you are that girl who has the life that you want, and you don't have to seek it out through other people. That should be the ultimate goal.

Here are subtle things that you should be doing to channel your ideal person and improve yourself for the better FROM THE INSIDE

take care of your hygiene: brush your teeth every day, wash your face with soap, wash your hair, take meaningful showers

be kind to yourself: speak nicely to yourself, treat yourself every now and then, love yourself exactly the way you came

make the effort: do your hair and wear something cute, even if you're only going to the supermarket. I bet your ideal self looks stunning wherever she goes, so make that effort if you really want to become her

move your body: dance to some music for just 5 minutes, take a walk, get off the bus a (reasonable) few stops earlier and walk the rest of the way

romanticise the hell out of your life: wear those bows, create that vision board, play that aesthetic background music even if you're just washing the dishes, wear that outfit!!!!!

admire yourself: look at yourself in the mirror and remember what you look like, take a million selfies to look back and smile at, give yourself a compliment every time you pass your reflection

get creative: if you want cute decor, make it! if you want cute clothes, find some easy DIYs!

focus on what you can control: if you cannot change the situation, let it resolve itself. don't waste your precious time obsessing over something you cannot change

get to know yourself (again): rediscover your hobbies, try new activities, learn to appreciate your solitude, get out of your shell

I really wish I was part of a community like this when I was going through a really insecure and lonely phase of my life.

Instead of deciding to wake up a 3am every day from now on, and trying to reach 20k steps every day, start small and walk your way up to greatness!

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 here

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !