#and trying to have alife

[theladyofbloodshed]

i'm hoping to get the lucian x nesta chapter out today. I think it will be the penultimate chapter (plus maybe an epilogue)

[videoworm]

quitting uni scary but i think im over it

[paskariu]

MY PURPLE PASSION IS ABOUT TO BLOOM YES

Caring for it has been an up and down thingy because i've never had a plant like this one and made some mistakes along the way but it's blooming regardless!

Up until now i've only ever had orchids and a bazillion jade plants

[irhabiya]

So I live in the US and due to that I had to prioritize English over Arabic and thus I don’t really know how to read or write it. I’m trying to incorporate more Arabic in my spoken vocabulary and my family has been helping with that. I’m currently using duo lingo to help with learning written Arabic. They have a feature where your just learning the alphabet and that has helped.

But what I’m trying to get at here is do you have any resources to help me learn reading and writing Arabic? I seen courses available but they are out price range and so I wanted to see if you could point me to anything that could help me.

hi sweetheart <3

unfortunately, since i was born and raised in the middle east and speak arabic as my first language i don't have any resources for someone trying to learn as a beginner but!! i can point you towards some users/posts who provide resources that could be helpful to you

my mutual @ayin-me-yesh has many resources for learning arabic under the #arabic and #alif baa tags on their blog. here are some posts compiling resources and you can look through the rest [1], [2], [3]

in general though, i would recommend you learn msa to an intermediate level so you can have a good understanding of standard arabic syntax and grammar and then move on to learning dialect to be able to actually communicate with people. the best way to learn dialect imo is by consuming media in that dialect and practicing with someone and it's good that your family is willing to help you with that. i saw in your bio that you're palestinian-american so maybe look into palestinian films and music specifically and levantine media more broadly.

[lizzybeth1986]

Laylat al-Henna

Book: The Royal Romance

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kiara Theron x Hana Lee

Word Count: 1, 882 words

Summary: It's the night before Kiara and Hana's wedding! What fun things do Kiara's cousins from Fes have in store for their henna night?

A/N: You'll find details and visuals on the fashion and henna designs (as well as faceclaims for the OCs!) in this post.

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for KTAW Day 1: Culture, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW/LGBTQ Archive, @choicespride as well even though it may be a bit early for the pride event.

It is tradition - Kiara has been told over and over, wedding after wedding, from the time she was twelve - for a woman to have her bridegroom's name hidden in the designs of her henna.

Their families back in Fes would make a game of it on their wedding night; the groom could touch his bride only when he found his name, tiny and dark and perfect - leaving the most beautiful stain on her palms.

At least four (well...three, really) of those cousins had giggled over how it all went down at their own wedding nights. Nour's henna had her husband's name written in extremely small print, squirreled away among a row of curls. Imane's flowed along the curves of a large, floral paisley. Nissrine's husband was rumoured to have taken hours searching for his name in her henna and poor Fatimazahra's collapsed into an eight-hour slumber before he could even truly try.

All four of them laughed even harder when they were told that Kiara would be marrying a woman.

At first Kiara assumed it had to be the fun of celebrating two brides rather than just one. Double the joy, double the dancing, double the bridal henna!

Should've known better, Kiara mutters to herself as her eyes search frantically for telltale signs of calligraphy along the darkened vines on Hana's palm.

She almost lets out a triumphant yell when she catches a lovingly inscribed kaaf, deceptively mirroring the vines. That's before she realises the other four letters are scattered in Arabic all over Hana's palm.

Kiara purses her lips, immensely annoyed. Why did she think this to be so romantic in the first place?

"Oh!" Hana whispers in delight, "Look! I've found mine." Her finger lightly traces the soft skin underneath Kiara's little finger, caressing the spot where her own name is inscribed, in Mandarin....as a whole word. Her eyes sparkle in childlike glee.

Kiara manages to catche an alif peeking out from behind a flower on the soft skin just below Hana's thumb. She lets out a small huff of laughter, shaking her head.

Perhaps she should thank every deity of every faith that her parents' gave her a name as short as Kiara. Imagine her plight if it had been as long as Fatimazahra's, zut alors.

"My darling cousins," she says, her eyes still roaming over Hana's palms. Now...now she understands all those hearty cackles Nour seemed to be making, at the idea of arranging a henna party for two women. "Elles me conduiront à ma tombe!"

--

Every woman at the henna party in Castelserraillan that night shared very knowing grins as Kiara and Hana entered - completely blissed out, skin dewy and aglow, a mixture of a french lavender scent and the earthy aroma of ghassoul clay emanating from their bodies.

They'd been brought into the hall like princesses of old, carried in jewelled palanquins, dressed in caftans and takchitas whose golden threads reflected the soft light of the hall, the candles that seemed to receive their own henna treatment in tones of pink, purple and rose gold, and their light glowed softly in trays of pure gold.

Having experienced the joys of the pre-henna night hammam baths themselves, most of Kiara's aunts and cousins could tell how good the treatments must have been within the first ten minutes of a bride entering the ceremony.

Beneath her golden veil, Kiara's eyes roamed around the hall, in awe of the sheer love and detail that must have gone into planning this party alone. Both women being daughters to a multitude of cultures meant that Kiara and Hana had to pay their respects to several of their homes - Bethulia. Castelserraillan. Udvada. Orleans. Fes. Shanghai. Cordonia. - in different ceremonies, and include a multitude of relatives.

Which meant that Kiara's aunts and cousins knew this night was their moment to shine.

Hana was whisked to another corner of the room before Kiara could even get a chance to speak to her - a bevy of ladies already surrounding her to fulfill requests, give her mint tea, admire the henna's artist's craft or just for a small chat. Anything and everything Hana wanted. Tonight (and this was exactly how Kiara wanted it) Hana was going to be treated like a queen.

From under her lashes, Kiara sneaked a look at Hana. The woman she would call her wife tomorrow. Listening, nodding, her silken brown hair catching the glow of the lights as she threw her head back at a joke her aunt Hala said.

"If you stare any harder you'll bore a hole in the wall behind her," Nissrine came to her, grinning as she followed Kiara's gaze. She looked around the hall, slightly doubtful. "How did we do?"

Kiara laughed, placing her free hand on her cousin's arm, reassuring her with the word they would all use to describe something as beautiful. "Zwina."

Fatimazahra - who had been minding the caterers this whole time - seemed to appear out of nowhere, chukling. "Tomorrow is her wedding night. Of course everything will be zwina. The macroute will be zwina, her henna will be zwina, her wife will be the most zwina."

Kiara moved her gaze from Hana to her own palms, admiring the naqasha's speed and precision. The henna felt cool on her left palm, the designs on her arms already beginning to dry a little and the paste itself smelling pleasant and earthy - the way real henna should.

The naqasha - an experienced henna artist from their hometown whose team had become popular among the family circles for their vast knowledge of different henna styles (Indian, Pakistani, Khaleeji, Fassi, Marrakechi, Meknessi, Saharawi - you name it) - had finished making a beautiful dome at the centre of Kiara's palm, and was now referring to a tiny piece of paper Imane seemed to have given her before carefully writing out Méihuā - the name Hana's paternal family often used for her - in Hànzì script.

Kiara smiles mistily as she watches Soraya, the naqasha, labour over each character of the script, making sure she never got a single line or slant wrong. Hana often told her that that name reminded her of happier times, far more than her own birth name did. It meant plum blossom - the flower that grew fragrant and resilient in the snow, China's national flower. Her Năinai's favourite flower.

And over the past year...she'd begun to answer to it a little more too.

Kiara mouthed a silent "thank you" to Imane as she sauntered to her side, looking very pleased with herself.

"Wonderful work, Soraya," she patted the naqasha lightly on her shoulder, "What oils did you add in the henna paste this time?"

"Tea tree, geranium and lavender," Soraya said, smiling, "She can hold her hands in front of some herbal incense later. A lovely rich colour and the scent will be incredible."

"Ohhh...what a deep stain it'll leave behind when the henna comes off!" Imane looked back at Kiara, winking. "Remember what our aunts used to tell us, Kiara? The darker the stain of the henna, the deeper the essence of his love. Or her's, in this case."

Kiara was grateful for her golden veil as heat creeped up her neck. Maman loved that adage, ever since her own wedding where - if Kiara's aunts were to be believed - her henna deepened to a dark, rich brown without even holding her hands to a brazier like everyone else did.

Kiara always liked to call herself a practical woman. But this didn't stop her from dreaming of showing Hana her palms, rich and deep brown from both henna and their love.

"Is Hana liking her designs?" Kiara asked Imane.

"Iyyeh," Imane nodded. "Soraya's girls have really outdone themselves. Indian designs are usually very elaborate, but Hana wanted something simple, a little floral."

She gave Kiara a wolfish grin, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I think you're going to love it."

Kiara narrowed her eyes at Imane. She knew that look. It was the kind she would give all her cousins when, as children, she was about to do skin her knees climbing the branches of a fig tree.

Kiara was going to open her mouth to ask what Imane had in mind, when the low, deep strains of the guembri rang throughout the room.

It was Nissrine's younger sister Nour, closing her eyes in reverence and plucking the strings of the family guembri - a legacy from her father, a renowned Gnawa master himself. The guembri had been in the family for generations, itself decorated with henna patterns so intricate it would amaze even the best of naqashas.

As the women in her family got up to dance to "Toura Toura", a song Kiara would listen to and relish in 12 hour lilas every year in Fes (singing in Bambara - a language neither she nor her cousins truly understood but loved to hear), she found herself somehow dancing next to the woman she had been craving to see for the last few hours.

"Well, hello there," Kiara said, sneaking a kiss to Hana's cheek.

Hana giggled. "Fancy running into you."

They danced until their feet were sore, until their eyes begged for sleep, until their henna dried - leaving behind a stain that was a deep, dark, rich brown.

--

"They did that on purpose!" Kiara huffs, ten minutes after she has triumphantly shown Hana the final letter - the rāy curling at the base of her wrist. "They were planning to annoy and vex me this entire time. If they were here right now I'd tell them to go cook themselves an egg."

For all her grumbling, however, Kiara was quite overjoyed. She had hoped that her extended family in Fes would adore Hana just as much as she did, that they would love her and pamper her silly. They went above and beyond; they made Hana's first real experience of Morocco practically unforgettable.

It was. In every sense of the word. Even if that involved secretly pulling Kiara's leg.

Hana pouts, her fingers still tracing the name on Kiara's palm. "I wish they scattered letters for me too. Seems like more of a challenge." She shifts a little more into Kiara's arms, turning her gaze to her own palms. "Not that I don't love your henna already. It's gorgeous; look at these curls in the center! They remind me of a compass rose."

Hana runs her fingers purposefully along the length of Kiara's body. She presses five tiny kisses along her face.

"A kiss for each letter," she hums happily against Kiara's skin, "A just reward for your hard work."

Laughter bubbles in Kiara's throat. "Only five?"

"Kiara Yasmine Thorne," Hana's voice takes on a raspy, sultry quality, "Don't be greedy."

"Ma moitie," she whispers back, "I believe tonight's the one night when greed is allowed."

Hana bites her lower lip to stem her own laughter, then lets her lips roam free over Kiara's face.

"Fine, then," Hana huffs in mock-petulance, only too happy to go along with the joke, "Eighteen kisses it is."

Kiara buries her hands in Hana's hair as she breathes in the fragrance from between her shoulder and neck. "I won't mind if you give me more...but alright. Eighteen's a start."

Translation -

Darija:

Kaaf (ك), yaa (ي), alif (ا)(twice), rāy (ر) are the isolated letters that - I think - will form Kiara's name in Arabic. I believe that it may look somewhat like this (كيار��) when written as one word, but the letters are meant to be scattered around Hana's henna just to tease Kiara.

Ghassoul/Rhassoul clay - a type of clay that some people use as a cosmetic product for their skin and hair. It’s a brown clay only found in a valley in the Atlas mountains of Morocco. The term “rhassoul” comes from an Arabic word that means “to wash.” Typically used in hammam baths.

Zwina - a compliment, literal meaning is beautiful or good.

Macroute - a diamond shaped sweet cookie filled with dates and nuts or almond paste.

Naqasha - Henna artist

Guembri - a three stringed skin-covered bass plucked lute used by the Gnawa people

Lila - a rich ceremony in the Gnawa community, of song, music, dance, costume, and incense that takes place over the course of an entire night, ending around dawn. Learn more here.

Toura Toura - Popular Gnawa song. Here is a version by Innov Gnawa.

French:

zut alors - an expression of annoyance, like saying "darn!" or "damn!", mostly used in non-serious instances.

Elles me conduiront à ma tombe! - They will lead me to my grave!

Va te faire cuire un œuf! - Literally, "go cook yourself an egg!". An expression of annoyance, similar to "go take a hike!" or "leave me alone!"

[brrdhouse]

bweirdoctober day one: fav oc

i haven't drawn her in literal years, but my beautiful baby rae <3

she used to be my persona, but there was a stint where i humanized her and made her a black woman and i, as a white man, didn't want to claim that energy lmao

i also haven't done a month-long challenge in.. uh.. ever! i think! very happy to do it this year! i'm gonna try and stay on it, but things happen. i'll at least do the mandatory days haha

more info about her under the cut:

rae! yay!

in her universe, the dying gods made 5 "avatars" of their elements to rule their subjects. rae and her siblings are those elements, with rae representing the stars above, her older brother alifer representing water, evangeline and fire (later stone and metal), and twins casimir and circe with nature and the skies respectively

they have a big war eventually, evangeline has her emo arc, and all of the siblings stop talking to each other and rule their own separate kingdoms

one day, rae just leaves her kingdom and never returns, leaving her subjects floundering while she skips off to do whatever, and that whatever ends up getting her put in hibernation for another thousand years or so

she wakes up to a kid finding her and she takes on a motherly role to him, then she collects two more kids and they become a little adventuring party. her starness makes her really good at prophecy and magic in general so she teaches these 3 kids (now young adults by the time they're all together) magic. yaay cool family unit

the big main character of her universe is a fire sprite named cyl who becomes the "new rae" aka head of the party and kind of leader of another kingdom with the rest of the group

not super important to her backstory, but rae also has endless toxic(? not as toxic as it could be, depends on when we're talking) yuri with a person named friday who keeps getting reincarnated and they find each other in every lifetime, they're cute and i love them and eventually i'll draw them together again (need to ask friday's creator if she has a new design.. i'll do that eventually)

um! ask questions if you want? she's been my main oc since about 2017 so i've been cooking her for a long while

[aphelion-alifer]

☽ welcome ☾

hi, I'm aphelion alifer (he/they), and this is my blog! you can call me aphelion (pronounced "uh-FEE-lee-un"). my name means furthest from the sun (aphelion), or a winged creature existing in freedom in the distance (aphelion alifer). this isn't my real name, but it's what I want to be called by at least on this blog for privacy reasons.

✩

I'm an adult (18 years old) and have been around the nonhuman community for at least 10 years as of writing this. I support all kinds of nonhuman identities, experiences, and beings. my blog is directed towards any nonhuman looking for a safe space, specifically those who are physically nonhuman (shapeshifters, extra limb growers or wing growers/avians, etc), but anyone is welcome. I also consider myself to be spiritual, a reality shifter, furry, and witch, so I might reblog things other than nonhuman stuff. I mostly share posts relating to my experiences, thoughts, things I like, etc. on this blog, I prefer not to talk about my mental health struggles, but I might reblog posts related to mental health. this blog is SFW.

✩

physically I am an avian and have had a very strong calling to the sky since I was a child, which is how I knew that I am physically meant to have wings. this is an experience that is very deep and personal to me. aside from being an avian, I also tend to have canine/werewolf-like instincts and mental shifts occasionally, and spiritually I am some kind of horned black kite that resembles maleficent's phoenix form. I am still figuring myself out, and this may change, except for my calling to the sky and general connection to winged beings/wings in general. my calling is permanent and lifelong. also, I believe that my soul originates from a different planet in a different universe and that this may be one of my first times on earth in a physical body, but I'm not sure where I come from or if this is 100% true. I'm still discovering myself just like everyone else!

✩

I'm the author of "Nonhumanity: A history", a document that is a timeline of the nonhuman community and also serves as an archive for older articles and websites. it can be found here: Aphelion Alifer - 2024 (google.com)

✩

I believe in good energy and keeping bad vibes out, and I'm not here for discourse or fights! anything anti therian/otherkin/alterhuman and nonhuman will be blocked. adding on, I do believe in DNI's and respecting them, and I should have one, but I just freely block, ignore or report anyone who makes me feel unsafe or uncomfortable without making it a big deal (things like radqueers, trump supporters/right wing folks, anti furry, anything paraphilia related, or individuals that are hateful or generally rude to me or try to cause issues, as well as other topics that I didn't bring up will be blocked, ignored or reported!)

✩

thanks for taking the time to read this and check out my little corner of the web, I look forward to being on this journey with like-minded individuals!

✩

dividers by: https://www.tumblr.com/saradika/729485214970216448/hi-im-just-a-big-fan-of-your-blog-everything?source=share

[doseofarabic]

Dose # 3 - letters [batch 1]

Introduction (◕ω◕✿)

I will not go over the normal order, but rather will choose an order of letters that has the most recurring letters, and the easiest ones to write.

Another important thing that we will focus on is the points of articulation, try to follow the points of articulation to the best of your ability instead of comparing the letter to the cloest english equivalent. It will help you pronounce the letters, and eventually the words with more clarity and closer to the way native speakers pronounce it.

I will also give you a photo of where these letters are in respect to the other alphabets.

The letters that we will cover in this batch are م ك ب

م Mīm

ك Kāf

ب Bāʾ

How to write it ♡(◕ᗜ◕✿)

These letters have 4 forms : initial, medial, final and isloated. Sometimes the isolated forms can come when the letter is preceeded by the 6 letters of exception which I mentioned before

اودذرز

For the letter م , here is a small visual tutorial on how to write the letter. Follow the order I've listed below :

For the letter ك start from the top right, then go to the bottom left in the isolated form and the beginning form.

Here is a small visual tutorial on how to write the letters. Follow the stroke order I've listed below :

As for the letter ب, it's relatively easy to write.

Letters + vowels (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

I also added the short vowel, the blue is ḍamma, the purple is sukoon (the absence of vowel); the green is fatḥa.

Keep in mind : we can not start a word with sukoon. It will come in the middle of a word or at the end.

With the long vowels :

Note : in order for the word to have a vowel, the ḥaraka must correspond with the long vowel. For example : fatḥa with alif ا, ḍamma with و and kasra with ي.

Here is what each one of the letters is like with tanween. Notice how tanween only comes at the end of the word, so it will be either on the form of the "end of the word" or the "isolated form" in case the letter is preceeded by ا-و-د-ذ-ر-ز.

The one is green is tanween fatḥ, the one in blue is tanween ḍam, the one in red is tanween kasr.

Here are some words, examples of what each letter looks like at the beginning, middle and the end of the word.

Follow the arrows to write the letter correctly. I will attach worksheets to help you practice.

Pronunciation (◕‸ ◕✿)

Here is an audio of the letters with harakāt, mudood and tanween

[م]

[ب]

[ك]

Practice (◕▿◕✿)

Use this sheet to practice writing the letters we learned in this lesson

You can use this sheet to practice if you don't have an arabic aligned notebook

Practice reading the letters with the harakat and mudood

Homework # 3 ♡(◕ᗜ◕✿)

Complete this exercice on this link. I highly encourage you to do the bonus question at the end.

Don't hesitate to send me questions anytime!

Happy learning!♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

[the-fiction-witch]

Alone

Media - House of Anubis Character - Jerome Clarke Couple - Jerome X Reader Reader - Y/n Y/L/N Rating - Flirty Af (Maybe mild smut only a lil bit) Word Count - 1250

Jerome stood in his room dressed in his best grey jeans, his blue button down and his grey waistcoat. He was humming to himself 'I'm So Excited' as he made his bed, tucking in a black sheet over his mattress protector, then tossing on his grey duvet cover flattering it out nicely, and finally putting his two grey pillows against the headboard first one on top of the other but then he smiled wickedly and put the pillows one beside the other on his single bed. He then sat on his bed and happily tapped his fingertips together. 

Across the bedroom, Alife packs his suitcase ready for his trip home. "Are you really THIS excited Jerome?" 

"Alfie, I don't think you understand." he began, "Seven days. Alone. In Anubis house. With Y/n." He explained, "I am Ecstatic!" 

"If y/ns here you're not really alone, are you?"

"Shut up Alife,"

Alfie sighed and zipped up his suitcase, "Seriously though. I beg of you. Whatever you two are... going to do this week... please don't do it anywhere... non-sanitizable." 

"We'll try," 

"Have fun man," Alfie told him grabbing his suitcase,

"Ohh I will," Jerome smirked, "Have a good break Alife, See you in a week,"

"See ya," 

Alife then quickly leaves waving his roommate goodbye, Jerome excitedly sits in his bed counting the goodbyes that Trudy makes at the door to each and every Anubis house member as they leave for the week off. Alife going to his parent's vacation home in France, Nina is back off to America, Fabain going to his uncles, Mara off to see her parents, Amber going to some fancy vacation spot, Mick is off on a sports trip, Patrica is away with family too. All the pieces line so perfectly together. Until he heard the words that made him jump with excitement. 

"Mr Clarke! Miss Y/l/n!" Victor yelled from the entryway, 

Jerome bolted up and out of his room leaning on the wall of the boy's downstairs corridor with a smile, seeing Trudy by the door with her bag, Victor by the door with his suitcase and Y/n, standing on the stairs having come down from the girls rooms, in her small white sneakers, black leggings, little purple skirt, white t-shirt, her hair in a side braid and her almost trade mark at this point purple lipgloss. He bites his lip a little as he sees her the idea of everything they can do this week running through his mind. 

Jerome and Y/n had been friends as long as either really remember both getting dropped off at boarding school at the age of five and had always been around each other ever since, The two had been dating secretly for the last two years but rarely get time alone given Anubis house always being full of people, the only people who knew where Alife given he's jeromes roommate and Fabian and Nina but that's only because they are also a couple and thus the four work together to ensure no one gets caught. 

He can barely contain himself as Trudy says goodbye as she heads off on a trip. 

"Be good the both of you," She warns, 

"We will," Y/n smiled,

Trudy then leaves, leaving only Victor by the door. 

Victor glared both of them down before speaking as he paces the entry way, "Now, a refresher of the rules. No parties. No people over. No leaving the house unless it's an emergency. No Mr Clarke pizza is not an emergency."

Jerome almost chuckled but bit his tongue,

"Any non-emergency household issues such as blown bulbs and broken furniture noted down on the pad on my office door. For emergency house issues such as broken ovens or clogged showers call the Zeus house groundskeeper his number is on the fridge. My office is locked as it shall remain until I return, no attic, no basement, no fires in the fireplace, and I don't care if it's your term break lights out and be in bed at 10 o'clock precisely and I will still want it to be quiet enough to hear a pin drop as usual. And absolutely. Positively no room sharing. "

Jerome and Y/n make sneaky side eye at each other a few times during these rules almost as a silent understanding that most if not all those rules are going to be ignored, 

"Do we understand?" Victor asked,

"Got it." He nodded putting his hands in his pockets,

"It's all going to be fine, We are very capable," Y/n smiled, 

"You I trust Miss Y/L/n." Victor nodded going to the door, he then made a point to glare at Jerome which was enough of an answer of how much he trusts him, 

"We'll be just fine, Victor. Don't worry about a thing. We'll take good care of Anubis house and each other while you're gone." Jerome smiled,

"Alright, Emergency key and numbers are on the fridge. I expect good behaviour." He glared, before picking up his case and heading out the door he locked the first and then went out the second locking that one too. 

For a moment Jerome and Y/n stand in the silence letting it sink in that they are... really alone. 

"We... are... alone," Y/n said, 

"We're finally alone! No rules, no supervision, just you and me for a whole week." He gasped trying to hold back his excitement, 

She steps down the stairs for a moment checking as if she doesn't trust that everyone isn't just going to jump out on them, "All alone, after so long of boarding school houses and summer camps we..."

"No Victor, No Trudy, No Alife, no anyone. Just us." He offers his hand and she happily takes it so he spins her around in the entryway under the grand chandelier, "We're finally all alone,"

"Finally all alone," They press their foreheads together and can't hold back the smiles their arms around one another lovingly, 

"So, what do you want to do first? We can do anything we want! No limits, no rules, no restrictions."

"I have an idea," she smirked grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss,

He kisses her back the two quickly letting their tounges explore one and another as they heavily make out, He pulls her waist a little till he pushes her up against the wall already egarly getting his hands up her skirt, 

When the outside door opens making them pull apart, Y/n moves around the corner leaning her back on the wall, Jerome leaning his elbow on the wall to his side, and both smile awkwardly as Victor comes back in. 

"Hi!" Jerome yelps, 

"Forgot my hat," Victor said grabbing his hat, even if he lusciously glared between the two of them, 

Y/n did her best not to blush and Jerome did his best not to smile too much but as Y/n glanced between them she glared at Jerome seeing his lips now purple from her lipgloss so she made eye contact with him and rubbed the corner of her mouth which Jerome picks up on any quickly wipes the lipgloss from his mouth and innocently smiles,

"Behave," Victor demanded before he left locking both doors again, 

Jerome and Y/n wait this time to hear his car actually leave, before both let out a quick breath of relief. 

"Wanna go sit and make out on the sofa?" He asked,

"And order Pizza?" She asked,

He quickly pulls her into another kiss, "I love you."

"I love you too," she smiled grabbing his hand and dragging him into the living room, 

[cosmic-shine]

Hey I'm turned 30 today and i'm still alife (sometimes i think "unfortunately":'))

But

Things were not that bad for me for this year - i changed my job for a new one that's better in many ways + i get a chance to craft things for selling (i'm decorating venetian style masks and doing some other small things and it hopefully more stuff awaits me ahead...and i hope i'm doing a good job :')

So i've doing this for a last couple of months, but i hope to do some more and return to my drawings and also try to do some of my internal projects (i have some long going comic ideas) - wanna thank you all for supporting me still ❤️ ❤️

Wish you all healthy mental state and happiness ❤️ ❤️

[uriekukistan]

hi again rin! yuuta + 5, 12, 15, and 21 for the ask!

omg hello thank u again for the ask :D

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

reminds me how underdeveloped my yuuta playlist is :') rn i think one that reminds me of him a lot rn is alife by slowdive (i've had this on repeat recently, highly recommend this song), im not sure but maybe its these few lines that just remind me a bit of him & rika

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

i think he was a big hobby collector when he was a kid. he was alone all the time bc of rika, so he found ways to pass the time. unfortunately he doesn't have much time for these now, but one thing i think he picked up is sewing, and i think that would play a factor in his ability to use rct. like he can just imagine the energy as threads and stitch things back together with it, if that makes sense.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

inuokko my beloved <3 i love how they just understand each other without words. like yuuta mentions in jjk0 the whole time he spent being scared of toge, he was just trying to be mindful of yuuta's shyness and nervousness. and yuuta's the only person we see having seamless conversations with toge </3 and then ofc his reasoning he gives for wanting to kill yuuji at the end of shibuya is bc he cut off toge's arm, not the numerous other atrocities? sure 🤨 and don't get me started on how the one thing toge's said that's not a rice ball ingredient or a cursed speech command is yuuta's name :')

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

yuuta is such a sweet boy and i love writing him that way. he's the type of person who's always looking after his friends and paying attention to their non verbal cues to see if they're alright...although sometimes i worry that i haven't given him the proper depth bc he's always worrying abt ppl around him. which like. feels right for him too, and is imo an important trait of his anyway, but yeah.

thank you again for the ask !! i rlly need to talk abt yuuta more i love him very dearly, he's second only to megumi for me <3

[qalbofnight]

Aik Alif | Bulleh Shah

 18  Sadiq  Monday, June 29, 2009

1. Parh parh ilm te faazil hoya Te kaday apnay aap nu parhya ee na

(You read to become all knowledgeable But you never read yourself)

You read so many books to know it all, yet fail to ever read your heart at all.

Bhaj bhaj warna ay mandir maseeti Te kaday mann apnay wich warya ee na

(You run to enter temples and mosques But you never entered your own heart)

You rush to holy shrines to play a part, Would you dare enter the shrine of your heart

Larna ay roz shaitaan de naal Te kadi nafs apnay naal larya ee na

(Everyday you fight Satan But you never fight your own Ego)

You are quick to attack the evil one, yet pride is a battle you have not won. Bulleh Shah asmaani ud-deya pharonda ay Te jera ghar betha unoon pharya ee na

(Bulleh Shah you try grabbing that which is in the sky But you never get hold of What sits inside you)

You grab for a star you can control, yet fail to grasp the light in your soul. Bas kareen o yaar (Stop it all my friend)

Let the race end, my friend

Ilm-oun bas kareen o yaar Ik Alif teray darkaar

(Stop seeking all this knowledge my friend Only an Alif is what you need)

Stop trying to be the one who knows, for 'God is One' you need to know.

Bas kareen o yaar (Stop it all my friend)

End the race, my friend

Allah Sayyaan Allah Sayyaan (God is the Master, God is All)

God is All we need! God is All!

Nee main jaanaa Jogi de naal

(I shall follow the Yogi {ascetic/sufi})

Follow the wandering dervish!

Jo naa jaane, Haqq ki taaqat Rabb naa devey us ko Himmat

(Those who deny the Strength of Truth Lord does not give them courage)

If you deny the power of all that's true, God will not grant strength to you. Hum Mann ke darya mein doobey Kaisi nayya? Kya manjhdhaar?

(We have drowned in the river of Self the boat and the flowing waters do not matter)

We are lost in this river of self, no boat or streams are of any help.

Bas kareen o yaar (Stop it all my friend)

End the race, my friend

Ilm-oun bas kareen o yaar (Stop seeking all this knowledge my friend)

Stop trying to know it all, my friend.

Allah Sayyaan Allah Sayyaan (God is the Master, God is All)

God is All we need! God is All!

[micamicster]

catch up tag

tagged by : @anderwater and @greenlikethesea

last song: Fast Train by Solomon Burke (I'm kinda in a groove of listening to this one every grey fall morning when I'm driving to work which now that I say it sounds depressing but i swear it's not I find the song very peaceful)

last film: The Raid 2 (needed to enjoy my roommates huge tv)

currently reading: um. the more school stress i have the more books of varying quality I read (im trying to maintain good sleep hygiene by reading before bed instead of being on that phone okay?) so in the last two weeks I have read Fairy Bargains of Prospect Hill by Rowenna Miller, The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin, Alif the Unseen by G. Willow Willson, Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros, The Honjin Murders by Seishi Yokomizo, and The Man in the Brown Suit by Agatha Christie. Still working on The Powerbroker by Robert Caro. My favorites of this list have been Alif the Unseen and The Honjin Murders! Unrelated I need to get more normaler.

currently watching: Mysterious Lotus Casebook (and i WILL be posting about it brace yourselves lol)

current obsession: I think I'm between obsessions tbh so I'm gonna use this spot to promote the mysterious fic I've been grinding away at for the last six months--we are so close to posting!

tagging : @eatandsleepwell @homosexawol @hidekomoon and @anyone else who wants to share!

[callioope]

What's this? An update?!

Is anyone else experiencing an onslaught of bots following them? Whenever I see that happen I wonder if it's because I've been so inactive lately; sometimes there seems to be a correlation there. So maybe just maybe it will help if I post something.

So here's an update.

Free time is a rarity for me these days -- offline life is busy! When I do have time to myself, I usually spend it stuck in the YouTube vortex (unfortunately, but it's the honest answer. I go there to watch Critical Role and get sucked sideways by the darn algorithm. I need to sign up for Beacon and just stop having a reason to go to YT in the first place). IF I can pull myself away from that blackhole, then I'm probably also avoiding writing by doing the NYT Games. And if by some miracle I dodge both of these digital traps, then I'm actually (gasp) reading or writing. (Or playing DND on the weekend.)

The Writing I signed up for Get Your Words Out this year, and even if I haven't been as productive as I might have dreamed, I'm still loving it because I do feel like it is working to get me writing more than I otherwise would have. And it doesn't feel as daunting as NaNoWriMo. So, here's my progress:

Pledged as a backpacker (honestly the lowest and easiest goal but I'm being practical about my time availability this year)

Wrote 33 days this year so far

Worked on 11 different projects -- this is a big oof for me; I feel a little adrift. I'm trying to console myself by likening it to an artists sketchbook (I think I saw a post about that on tumblr). Any writing is better than no writing! Nine (nein!) of the projects are shadowgast fics and two are original works -- something I might combine into 1 idea, we'll see. 

I've been focusing on the original idea lately, which is exciting!

I got a new laptop, and I'm able to go back to using Scrivener! Sadly had to pay for the upgrade, and still migrating story notes back into it, but excited. Anyone have any good tips for using it? Character templates, etc?

The Reading I have been able to get back into reading this year, which I am super happy about. This year I've read:

Our Bloody Pearl by D.N. Bryn (loved it)

A Power Unbound (The Last Binding #3) by Freya Marske (loved it)

The Magician's Daughter by H.G. Parry (enjoyed it)

Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel (loved it)

The Bird King by G. Willow Wilson (enjoyed it)

Alif the Unseen by G. Willow Wilson (it was fine)

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (enjoyed it)

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (it's complicated)

Crown Duel by Sherwood Smith (third read; comfort read)

Remalna's Children by Sherwood Smith (it was fine)

Silver in the Wood (The Greenhollow Duology #1) by Emily Tesh (loved it)

Drowned Country (The Greenhollow Duology #2) by Emily Tesh (loved it)

Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children #1) by Seanan McGuire (did not like)

Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher (loved it)

Spellbound (Magic in Manhattan #1) by Allie Therin (disappointed)

Upright Women Wanted by Sarah Gailey (loved it)

Edited to add: Currently reading: The Hexologists (The Hexologists #1) by Josiah Bancroft. Healthy, loving, established middle age couple protagonists in a fantasy setting, where have you been?! I've been looking for a book like this forever.

I haven't read more than like 2 books a year ... probably since 2016 (thank you rebelcaptain and shadowgast for all the wonderful fics i read instead)

[bornatnightt]

PROMPT 001. carvin' through the dark

Gods, magic, dreams come alife. Called to Olympus (of a sort, anyway) and offered a drink that would awaken power in him.

Tempting. Too tempting. Would it kill? Scar?

Power, knowledge, ability beyond what he had ever seen. Was any of this even real? Bad trips had been known to cause strange effects on him.

Either way, Jesse probably had taken worse from less trustworthy people in a club. He could do this.

Drinking was the easiest part. Then came the worst.

Darkness. Blinding, eyes watering, bloodshot like there was something wrong in the inside. Laughter almost bubbling in, of course there was something wrong.

Song, booming in his head, like standing too close to a loudspeaker, like a concert he never paid to watch. Voices, left and right, above.

He couldn't see. Nails scratching his skin, anxiety like caffeine boiling in his blood. His eyes were still watering, or was he crying. The voices of his father, lost somewhere in the darkness. His voice, Omari's voice, hurt, full of rage.

Then, no darkness, light. Too much light, to the point of blindness. Was it day already?

Shadows, slowly dancing, taunting, english accent, icelandic accent, mixing into one. Whispering to him of his true value (none, they had always seen none) of what he would achieve (nothing).

Silence. Scream piercing through him, quieting everything around as he clawed not at himself but at the ground.

Then shapes, shadows, dancing. A boy, walking into the forest, asleep and shivering as he drifted into the night.

What could he do but follow? This time, he was awake (was he?) and the trees mocked him, the ground threatened to swallow him as he stumbled and fell.

Through the dark, he saw himself as a young child, clear as day, crying in the ground. Only now his father was there, body bleeding into the snow. He blinked, teary eyed, shivering now as well, feeling snow falling and melting on his arms. He hadn't dressed for snow.

In just a second, his father's body decayed, crows feasting on his carcass, open wounds exposing the rotting insides.

He threw up, maybe. Couldn't tell, just taste something bitter, stumbling away through the dark trees, eyes closing and opening to the voices still ringing in his ear.

A figure, in darkness, shielded. Standing proudly ahead of him. "Mother?" He whispered, but the figure was sinister, with a cruel snarl of a smile, ready to devour him. He stood, frozen, as voices taunted at him for always being so good at running; except when it counted.

His scream was nothing short of terrified, consumed by the shadowy figure of his maybe mother Jesse fell through the darkness for what felt like an eternity until he landed on wet ground, covered by a liquid that he couldn't identify.

There was no light but he could see, there was no sound, no right or left or up or down but he saw him standing there. Bloodshot eyes, looking at him like he was a monster as blood dripped down bare skin, Omari's body falling to the ground. Eyes open and accusing as Jesse crawled to him.

"This is how it ends." He said, "this is how it'll always end. You can't help it. You can only make it worse."

He shook his head, and Omar's mouth twisted into the same devil's grin of the shadow. "How will such an empty man save anyone but himself?" He asked as he faded away, leaving Jesse alone in this empty space.

This is how it'll always end.

His body shook, crawling through the wet ground looking for a way out.

You have nothing.

Dark shadows crawled over his skin, piercing until they seeped into his veins. Breath caught in his throat, body turning rigid. Shadows surrounded him, flew into his mouth, keeping him from screaming.

Not so charming now, are you?

Jesse lashed out, trying to fight off the voices in his head, ignore them. Survive.

You are nothing but an empty shell, and when the time comes they will see.

It sounded like her, stepmother dear. With icy eyes, and a cutting smile. He stumbled to his feet, quick to anger, quick to act, lunging at nothing, fighting off shadows. Retching the ones in his mouth. "Face me, if you dare." A dare in broken whisper.

You'll ruin everything you touch. That is how it ends.

Another lunge, step faltering, falling into his knees. Face down into the liquid, the taste of blood filling his mouth. Hand reaching for his throat as he choked on it.

A hand, dark and made of shadows pulled at his necklace, cool stone pressing against his neck, almost piercings skin as he clutched at it, fighting for air.

You won't survive much longer...

Son of Night.

Child of Nyx.

and neither are those dear to you.

Jesse spluttered, spitting out blood and feeling it drip down his face. Anger and fear consuming him, darkness surrounding him, drowning him. Closer, no air, nothing. Nyx, his mother...

and mother of nightmares.

His hand clutched the stone, the one he had carried throughout his life, the one that had been shaped into a promise of... more. The one that'd left a scar on his hand, the one imbued with too much ignored meaning. He pulled at the string around his neck and screamed.

Darkness shook around him, waving like a blanket then stilling... everything quiet for a second... until they sharpened into jagged edges and circled around him, floating for a second before they crossed the air like bullets, narrowingly missing him to pierce the shadows behind.

He fell once more, breathing deeply all but once before the ground faded before him. This time though when the darkness embraced him... it was welcomed.

[kyberblade]

Part 16 of Back To You is just over 12k and almost done.

I promise it’s coming.

It’s completely my own brain madness, no show content, and just absolute shenanigans, fluff, action, and stuff that made me go hehehehehehehehe. 😈

(Preview below the cut if you want.) (You know, in honor of Episode 2 today!!!!!!!) (166 words)

Xxx

“How did you know that was Mando’a? You’ve never really been one for languages.”

Din had the audacity to let out a snort of laughter from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed easily over his chest.

Rolling your head to level a narrow glare on your Mandalorian, you signed to him in Tusken in an attempt to keep the conversation a little more private in the tiny hull of the Crest, “What?”

He shrugged. “Jee tinka soong…. nuh'la,” he responded in Huttese, your newest attempted language to tackle, slipping into Mando’a on the last word when he couldn’t think of the proper one in the first language. (“I think it’s…. funny.”)

“Dobrah koona tah seenga Wooky tah uba,” you threatened in Huttese. (“I am going to sing Wookie to you.”)

“Shyriiwook? Ni ne ru’ba’juri gar ibac su,” he replied in Mando’a, completely forgoing trying to maintain the Huttese. (“Shyriiwook? I have not taught you that yet.”)

“Uba tinka Jee joka?” (“You think I joke?”)

Xxx

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