#but at least my portfolio is growing

[daemon-in-my-head]

Somehow this escalated at some point.

The frame can be untoggled and I've somehow added another... thing (which is just chilling untoggled as well).

[foxmulderautism]

okay i'm glad i did not rush that taxidermy story for the fellowship bc after a few days break from it i am getting new threads...new ideas....

[soapcloth]

-> Gallery curator!reader x bitter artist!Soap

CW: 18+ MDNI, oral in a truck, pushy soap, touchy soap

Oneshot - 1.2k words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Johnny’s a bit disgruntled about not getting into a gallery show. There’s an easy way to remedy that.

“No.” You spoke curtly, gaze steady on the man across the table from you sporting a gnarled scar from his temple that drew all the way back behind his ear. “I’m really sorry Mr. MacTavish, there’s nothing I can do to get you in the show coming up-“

“Johnny.” He interrupted.

“P-pardon?” You asked

“None of tha’ Mr. MacTavish Bull. Been pissing me off since our first appointment.” He grumbled, hand lifting to rub at this neck; staying there to massage and pick at his skin as he tried a different angle. His brows drew upwards and he shot you sad eyes. “Ah’ve been dreaming of this show, truly.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were a high end gallery curator, not customer support. “Look, I’m sorry Mr-“ You were cut down by a sharp glare. “-Johnny.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, Johnny, I don’t have the final say in this, I’m only a small part of the process.” Your fingers fumbled with the espresso you had ordered. “Between us? Your work’s stunning, but you just don’t have enough of it and it didn’t quite fit this show’s theme. If you just work on growing your portfolio, I’m sure you’ll be a perfect candidate for one in the future and-“

“Can ye’ guarantee that?” He bit.

Your eye twitched. “I’m trying to help you here, Johnny.” You watched his eyes glaze over.

“Fine, wanted to get in the damn show just te’ fuck ye’ anyways.” You choked loudly, looking around to find some other cafe patrons sparing glances your way as he leaned back into his seat with an unfocused grin, the poor chair straining audibly under his bulk. “Been thinking about biting into yer’ plump ass since our first appointment. Dinnae give a fuck about the show.” He was lying to your face; partially at least, you could tell, and he could tell that you could tell.

His nose bridge twitched in the phantom of a flexing snarl as his hand ambled upwards to fuss with the deep ridges of his healed-over scar before flying down to encase your own. His hands were clammy with his skin’s residue and when you maneuvered to recoil, he turned your palm over in his; an excuse to hold on. “Fuck, ah’m messing this up royally, aren’t I?”

“There’s nothing to mess up, Mr. MacTavish.”

His eyes narrowed almost indiscernibly before closing. “Och- ah’ve messed up but ye’ve already broken my heart with the whole gallery thing, Dinnae stomp on it with this.” He swallowed. “One date?” He asked as if he hadn’t just been talking about wanting to fuck you.

You grimaced, were you ovulating? “No gallery talk?”

“None. Swear on it.” He promised, eyes dilated slightly.

He was your type if you really squinted, and clearly you were his. “Fine, you have my cell-“

He practically pulled you up, a blinding smile on his lips. “Fuck, yer’ so gorgeous, ye’ got here in a cab, right? Let me take ye’ back to the gallery.” You shot a warning glare. “Not for me, Bonnie, Oath.” His palm made contact with the base of your spine, blunt fingers dipping under your shirt hem and rubbing at the new found flesh idly. “Ye’ bring a coat, Bonnie? Cold as sin out there.”

You nodded, reaching for the garment. He was faster though- long, stupidly thick arm reaching behind you to grab the coat. “Arms out.” Johnny smiled, eager to get out of the coffee shop. You blushed, embarrassed with a sharp look on your face directed at the floor. You could do it yourself, and yet, you obliged, letting him slip the sleeves on.

Outside, you shivered in the biting cold, breath rising in a cloud before you. Johnny gripped your arms and rubbed. “Ach- fucking freezing out, let’s get ye warmed up in my truck. Had a friend put heated seats in cheap.” He boasted, guiding you into a parking garage while remaining glued to your side. He stuck to you even as you ascended a level despite your best efforts to slow down and let him go first.

His truck was exactly what you had pictured for a guy like him. Economic but well-loved; jewel tone teal with a few nicks here and there. Opening the door for you, he helped you in with a splayed palm firmly groping at your ass. “Ye’ want the heated seat on? It’s aftermarket so it’s a bit tough to figure out.” You nodded, rubbing your hands together to warm them up.

With one hand on your thigh, he reached the other over your lap to fiddle with the heat. “There.” He grinned, newly free hand patting your other thigh and staying put. “Bonnie.” He hummed.

You nodded.

His eyes flicked downwards, throat bobbing. “Can ah’ve a taste?” Your eyes widened. “Yer cunt.” He tacked on, in case you weren’t already more than aware. “Want ‘er so bad, been having wicked thoughts about this all morning.”

You let out the breath you had held in then nodded, cheeks flushed.

He wasted no time going for your buttons and yanking your underwear down literally just far enough to slot his jaw between your legs. Hot breath fanned your cunt with a shaky exhale before he was diving in. You wondered how he could breathe with his face pushed so far into your pussy- then again maybe he wasn’t with how he was so preoccupied mashing his mouth against it.

His nose nudged past your clit as his broad tongue laved unendingly across your folds sloppily, paying the designated attention to the bud before he zeroed back in on your hole. “Mmph-” he breathed out after sometime, hot air creating a small pocket before he practically inhaled it back in.

You weren’t even cognizant of the fact that your hands were firmly woven into his overgrown Mohawk until you were using it to hold him down against you as you came on his jaw. The sounds Johnny made had let you know he was grateful, happily continuing to lap at your slick like a starved animal. You swear he whined when you pulled his head back up too. Like a starved animal.

His pupils were blown and he was practically vibrating as he wiped at his jaw before proceeding to lick at his hand; all while making eye contact as you buttoned up your jeans, thighs clenched together. He pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his mouth before straightening up and walking to the driver’s side door.

He was oblivious to your bashful silence as he chatted your ear off over the old, staticky radio for the entire ride back to your workplace. “-Ye’ll have to come by my studio space sometime, help me in the right direction with my work.” He winked, one hand squeezing your thigh as he pulled into the gallery parking lot. His old truck stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the nice cars as he put the car in park. “Stay warm fer’ me, bonnie.” He beamed, patting your thigh before you hopped out, feeling uncomfortably sticky. You nodded and scurried off to the front door of the gallery, colleagues sending you curious glances. For a curator commonly perceived as high maintenance around the gallery, you looked awfully unkempt.

you froze, turning around in horror upon hearing Johnny lay on the horn to get your attention.

“Call ye’ tonight.” He hollered with a shit eating grin.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: You’re plagued by the kid who lives in your neighborhood, the kid you know has a crush on you. You left town, you lived your life without him, and now you’re staring at him face to face after years. Something about him has changed and now you can’t help but want him back.

Square Filled: art student au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

As soon as the last bell at school rings, you race off campus to start the walk home. It’s not a far walk but you enjoy the silence you get from it. Your house is filled with little brothers and sisters and it’s hard to get a moment of peace. Your parents do the best they can but you know it’s hard for them. You’re the oldest so you’re expected to help out which is why you also enjoy your time alone.

You walk around the corner and notice the sixth house down from yours with the garage open. You’re not sure how you feel but something washes over you knowing what’s going to come next. Maybe it’s annoyance or irritation or indifference but the same thing happens every single time you walk home from school.

The only kid that lives there, Spencer Reid, loves to come out and walk with you the rest of the way to your house. He’s a nice kid but that’s all he is--a kid. He’s two years older than you are but you’re much taller than he is. If he is going to get a growth spurt, he’s getting it late in life or maybe his family are just short people. He’s not enrolled in your school because he’s mega smart and needs higher education to stimulate his brain.

You slip past his house in hopes you can enjoy the rest of your walk in silence but you hear the garage door slam shut and footsteps padding down the driveway.

“Hey, Y/N! Almost missed you.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you shake your head.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine. It’s just school.”

“Today was my first day of college and it was exhilarating. I have to admit, I wish you were there. Or I wish I was enrolled in your high school like all the other normal kids. At least we’d be together.”

You knew he had a crush on you after the first conversation you ever had with him. He called you pretty and vowed he’d walk with you to protect you against predators. It was cute at first but not you’re interested in someone like him. Like you said, he’s nice and has the potential of being a good boyfriend but he’s short and you don’t go for short boys.

“Sure, Spencer.”

“Listen, my mom gave me some money and I wanted to see this new French film that’s playing across town. Do you think you’d want to maybe go with me?”

Never has he ever had the balls to ask you out. Now that he has, you need to put a stop to this. He’ll get over the crush and you won’t be humiliated every time you go out in public. Does that make you selfish? Maybe. Does that make you a douche? Definitely. You stop outside of your house and look down at Spencer who has a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Spencer, listen, you’re a nice kid but it’s never going to happen between us.” Spencer’s face falls but he doesn’t say anything. “Grow over six feet and then we’ll talk, okay?”

You meant that as a joke but you don’t stick around to see if he laughs. That’s the last time you ever saw Spencer Reid.

Now

Today is the day. You’re given the opportunity to feature your art in one of the most successful art galleries in the country. You studied at Princeton and got a degree in fine arts before interning for known artist Benjamin Hale. He’s so successful that he has hundreds of galleries across America with dozens more across the world. He was impressed with your portfolio and offered to let you study underneath him while creating your artwork in private.

He offered you a chance to showcase your work in one of his new galleries. According to him, he needs new blood in this gallery and you’re the perfect fit for it. Your speciality is portraits, realism, and photorealism. Your favorite things to draw are people but there is something about being in nature and drawing what God put on this Earth. You have an eye for making your paintings look real and raw, and you’re able to capture people’s emotions henceforth the realism part of your art.

You only have about a dozen works put up in your small corner of the gallery but you’re proud of it all. You might not sell anything tonight and that’s okay. When you got the word out that the gallery was going to open, people agreed to come once they saw free food and wine was going to be handed out. Still, you appreciate everyone coming.

The place is packed mostly for Benjamin’s work but you see some people enjoying your work. You’re in the back room getting more wine for the servers when one of them joins you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey, Lori. I’ve just gotten the box of wine for you guys.”

“I just came back here to tell you that someone just bought all of your things.” You’re so shocked that you spring up but hit your head on the corner of a shelf. You yelp in pain and rub the sore area before backing out of the dusty corner. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did you just say?”

“Someone bought all of your work.”

You don’t wait to hear what else she has to say. You’re already out the door and rushing into the main room. You look to your section but don’t see anyone lingering around. You’re not paying attention to where you’re walking when you almost run into someone. The man grabs your shoulders to prevent you from falling and lets out a chuckle.

“Are you okay?”

Wait you know that voice. You look up at the man towering over six feet tall. Damn, he grew up.

“Spencer?”

“So, you do remember me.”

He lets go of your shoulders and allows you to take a step back from him. Damn, not only did he grow but he grew more handsome since the last time you saw him. Well, he was fifteen the last time you saw him but still.

“How could I forget the little boy who followed me for two years?”

“Yeah, I kind of had a crush on you,” he chuckles.

Oh, he even has a beautiful smile. Damn, I really was a dick to him back then. You try to ignore the pang of sadness at his use of “had” and not “have”.

“I know you did. I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

“Looking for someone?” he asks before you have a chance to leave his side.

“Yeah, someone bought everything I have out.”

“It was me.”

You pause and turn to look at him. He has a slight smirk on his face, and something in your head clicks into place. You look at him up and down and notice how he’s trying hard not to be overly confident in his decision.

“So, what, you got older and taller and now you think you’re hot shit?”

Spencer shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the one looking up, not me.” Your jaw drops several inches at his remark. “So, can we talk now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me to grow over six feet and we’ll talk. Well, I’m over six feet now. Will you let me take you out?”

You have no clue what to say to that because your mind is reeling from the last thing he said. Someone calls his name and you both see a black man, two blondes, and a brunette waving him over. They point to their watches which means he is either late or they have to go. He digs in his pocket and produces a business card. Only it’s not a business card. He’s in the fucking FBI.

“How about this?” He hands the card to you. “Call me when I can pick this stuff up and maybe we’ll talk then.”

He leaves your side and joins his friend group without another look at you. Is it shallow to want him now? Maybe. Are you going to try like hell to make up for lost time? Definitely.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[stellar-haikyuu]

in my dreams ☆ nishinoya yuu x reader

synopsis: in a world where soulmates exist, you’re not entirely sure what you’re destined for…until your dreams become reality. details: fluff | soulmates au | song fic | strangers to lovers | ~1.8k words | gn! reader | timeskip! nishinoya | my entry for @phantasmaebg warnings: this is my first time doing a soulmates thing and i’ve had a bit of a writing slump recently, so please bear with me!

Soulmates have long been a point of contention in your world.

Every pair is destined to share a unique “power.” Some people can share emotions or senses, read each others’ minds, have similar words written somewhere on their bodies, and whatever else you can imagine. 

The only definitive confirmation is what most call a zing—a short-lived, electrifying feeling when partners hold hands for the first time.

In theory, the idea of having a “forever partner” was lovely. Your parents are a prime example of the lifelong bond most people dream of having.

On the flip side? Some relationships have crashed and burned, despite being confirmed matches. Others have thrown out the idea entirely, choosing their hearts over fate.

Where do you fit in all of this? You don’t know. You’ve spent most of your life being pulled in both directions.

Your family is hopeful—eager, even—that you’ll continue their successful story. It’s pressuring, to say the least, not to mention terrifying.

What if your destined partner doesn’t believe in soulmates? 

What if the person you grow to love is hell-bent on looking for their soulmate?

What if you never meet your soulmate in your whole lifetime?

What if…

You don’t even want to think about it; nothing is certain and that exhausts you.

The only comfort you have is your dreams, where you feel free to exist. 

Ever since you were a child, you never understood how people could forget their dreams. Yours were incredibly vivid; the images lingered long enough for you to draw them in detail.

You easily recalled the way sunlight dances on crystal-clear waters, the soft whisper of wind through leaves, the fineness of the sand beneath your feet, the kaleidoscope of colors in the night sky, and how grand architectural feats towered over you.

You longed to see all of it with your own eyes.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. Traveling was a luxury for your family, and they weren’t the adventurous type either. The only thing you could do was create a bucket list of places you hoped to visit as an adult.

While most people desire to traverse the globe, there was something about yours that felt…different. You’ve dreamed of places and people that you’ve never seen before.

At first, you assumed they must have come from random glimpses of magazines lying around the house, or pictures your teachers had shown in class.

Then things got even weirder.

At some point in high school, new locations started appearing in your dreams. Gyms, volleyball courts, and stadiums. The exact same ones, over and over again.

A particularly beautiful girl started appearing more too. Slowly, more people joined her—at least thirteen more, if your count was accurate. You didn’t recognize any of them, but their unique voices stayed with you. 

While they were mostly pleasant dreams, it was still unsettling. You ended up asking your parents about it, but they quickly leaped to conclusions. "It’s probably connected to your soulmate!" they said, excitement lighting their faces.

It wasn’t exactly the reaction you expected, but thankfully, it pushed them to be more supportive of your dreams to travel. 

Eventually, the volleyball dreams faded, just as you started pursuing a degree in journalism. At last, you were carving a path to the life you’d always wanted—one where your curiosity could take you beyond the limits of your hometown.

You were one step closer to finally exploring the world.

A few years after graduating, you’ve been lucky enough to land a job with a well-known travel magazine. 

Apparently, you had an exceptional portfolio; your words alone were capable of painting the clearest pictures in the readers’ minds. It felt surreal to hear this praise, but more than that, it felt right. 

You felt like you were finally where you belonged.

Though you don’t get to choose the destinations for your assignments, it hardly matters. You’ve fallen in love with each place you’ve visited.

Whether exploring the whitewashed buildings of Santorini, cycling through the charming canals of Amsterdam, or basking in the turquoise waters of Boracay, every experience has broadened your horizons. 

Best of all, the company covers most of your travel expenses, so how could you complain?

Yet, one dream continues to elude you—the lantern festival.

For years, you’ve been enamored by its magic, picturing the moment hundreds of glowing lanterns fill the night sky. 

It’s been at the top of your bucket list since childhood. You’ve researched every detail: the best time to visit, the most stunning viewpoints, even the perfect wish to write on delicate paper. You’ve imagined the feeling of releasing your lantern so many times that it’s become second nature to dream about it, over and over.

Perhaps that’s why, as much as you’ve traveled, there’s a lingering ache in your chest. A small part of you feels incomplete, as if something is waiting for you there.

And then, one night, something in your dreams begins to shift.

You find yourself in the familiar scene of the festival, surrounded by the warm glow of lanterns. As always, you write your wish on the translucent paper: achieve my dreams and live a fulfilling life with no regrets.

But this time, something is different.

Beside your neatly written wish, there’s something new. Foreign characters—delicate strokes of Japanese script—appear as if they were always meant to be there. The ink feels familiar, though you don’t recall writing it.

Confused but curious, you prepare to lift the lantern. That’s when you notice you’re not alone.

Someone is with you. Their presence is so natural that it doesn’t feel strange, even though you can’t see their face. Together, you hold the lantern between you, your hands brushing as you gently release it into the air. The glow reflects in their silhouette, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. 

When you wake, the dream lingers. The feeling of their hand against yours stays etched in your mind, warm and tangible in a way none of your dreams have ever been.

You can’t shake the feeling that these fragments are leading you somewhere, like pieces of a puzzle waiting to fall into place.

You really hate delayed flights; you wouldn’t be running and panting now if things had gone as planned.

To be fair, the situation wasn’t anyone’s fault. A coworker unexpectedly fell sick, so you were asked to fill in and cover the annual Yi Peng Lantern Festival in Thailand at the last minute. 

Despite the frantic circumstances, you suppose it was a blessing in disguise.

Lungs burning, you finally arrive at the festival venue. The paper lanterns have already started to float into the night sky like glowing stars. You hope you’re not too late.

At the registration booth, you show the ticket your coworker had purchased in advance, only to encounter a new problem.

“We are very sorry, but there has been a shortage of lanterns,” the stationed employee explains. “There were a lot of walk-ins this evening. Would you be willing to wait? We are still looking for available vendors.”

You hum to yourself, thinking about what to do. Though it would have been nice, you suppose you didn’t need to release a lantern to write the article.

“Okay-”

“Share?” 

The sudden voice beside you makes you jolt.

Turning, you see a man with a bright, toothy grin. He points to his lantern, which looks a little big for him. It’s kind of adorable, now that you think about it.

“Me?” You point to yourself. “You want to share your lantern with me?”

“Yeah. So you happy. Uh, sorry, my English is not that good,” he says sheepishly.

You wave your hand dismissively. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, I understand you.”

“Great. Let’s go!” He gestures toward the crowd.

You bow to the event employee and thank him before following the stranger to a quieter spot.

“This is okay?” He looks back at you.

“Yup,” you reply. “Thank you so much.”

“Welcome. Here, write the wish.” He hands you a black marker.

Taking it, you select a blank area and write your wish down without a second thought. You’ve done this a hundred times in your dreams.

As you return the marker, you catch a glimpse of his wish. They’re written in Japanese script—the same characters you’ve seen in your dreams.

Wait.

Wait.

Your heart skips a beat as the realization hits.

The man notices your sudden silence and looks at your wish. He freezes, his expression unreadable.

“Uh,” you look at all the people around you, hoping to break the silence. “So, let’s get our lantern flying?”

“Yeah!” He positions himself at one end of the lantern. “Ready?”

Grabbing the other end, you nod.

“Three, two, one, up!”

Together, you release the lantern. It floats gently into the sky, joining the sea of glowing lights.

It’s breathtaking—something you’ll never forget.

“Thank you, uh, what’s your name?”

“My name?” He points to himself. “Nishinoya Yuu. Nickname is Noya.”

“Noya?” 

He enthusiastically gives you a thumbs-up. “Yes, Noya! And you are?”

You share your name, and he repeats it. You don’t know why, but you love the way it sounds on his tongue. He seems happy to have gotten your name right on the first try too.

“I feel like I just got déjà vu,” you comment, gazing at the sky.

“Decha what?”

“Déjà vu,” you explain. “Uh, it feels like I saw this happen before. In a dream.”

At your admission, something shifts in the atmosphere.

“Dream?” He furrows his eyebrows. “Dream, like sleeping?”

You nod at him, gesturing to everything going on around you. “I dreamed of this many times.”

Noya’s gaze remains fixed on you as he responds. “Me too. I dream of this. Many times.”

You glance at his bag, noticing a volleyball hanging from it. You’re immediately reminded of your high school dreams.

Were your parents right all along? 

Could it be?

“How about last night?” Your voice lowers. “Did you dream of fireworks?”

He gasps, eyes widening. “Yes. Beach fireworks.”

It can’t be a coincidence anymore.

“It’s you.” You can’t wipe the grin off of your face. “You’re the one.”

“The one?” Noya tilts his head.

You pause, wondering how he’ll react to your suggestion. “Soulmate?” 

For a moment, he stares at you, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far. You hope he doesn’t think you’re crazy.

However, before you can take your words back, he steps forward and takes both your hands in his.

Almost immediately, something surges through your body, like some sort of warm, vitalizing energy.

The zing.

You can’t tear your eyes away from each other, and you can see the same astonishment reflected in his.

“Soulmate,” Noya whispers. “Dream soulmate.”

And for once in your life, things start to make sense.

“Yeah, it’s you. You’re the one in my dreams.”

masterlist

[prototypesteve]

“Phase.”

Hi. I’m Steve. I’m one more bit of evidence that asexuality isn’t a phase, or something you grow out of, or something that time “cures”. I’m proof you don’t necessarily change when you meet someone, or when you get past the chaos and uncertainty of youth.

I’m 52, and while there wasn’t a formal word for it back then, I’ve been what we now call aromantic and asexual since at least age 12.

I’ve met lots of people, made friends (just friends) with plenty of them. Had two disastrously failed “just fake it till it feels real” relationships, one in my mid-20s, one in my mid-30s, and came right back to aromantic asexual after each. Career’s good. Money’s good. Normal, perfectly healthy, suburban, well-travelled, fully-realized adult who even looks after their dental and mental health. I have hobbies, an investment portfolio, a decent car, too many bikes, a busy social calendar, all the usual adulting stuff, and despite all that I still have absolutely no feelings of sexual or romantic attraction.

It’s not a phase.

[thehanalia]

THE SUBTLE ART OF BECOMING FINANCIALLY FREE IN 2024 💸 🎀 ྀིྀི

Hey girlies, Hanalia is back, ready to dive into some real talk about achieving financial freedom. No fluff, just hardcore truths to help you grow and secure your future like the badass queens you are.

1. Know Your Worth: Ladies, let's talk real. Your value isn't about how many likes you get or what brand you wear. It's about your talents, your skills, and your drive to succeed. Invest in yourself—learn, grow, and never underestimate what you bring to the table.

˖⁺‧₊ It's not just about earning money; it's about how you invest it. Our aim is growth, and often, you need income to invest in yourself. ˖⁺‧₊

2. Budget Like a Boss: Financial freedom starts with knowing where your money goes, okay. Time to get real with those finances. Budgeting isn't about restrictions; it's about empowerment. I used to think it was all about penny-pinching, but it's really about knowing where every dollar goes and making intentional choices.

3. Crush Debt: Debt can feel overwhelming, trust me, I've been there. But facing it head-on is how you break free. Start with the high-interest stuff, make a plan, and stick to it like your future depends on it—because it does.

˖⁺‧₊ Debt can feel like quicksand, but you're no damsel in distress. The sooner you free yourself from debt, the sooner you'll have more money to build your empire.˖⁺‧₊

4. Invest Wisely: Investing isn't just for the rich. Start small, educate yourself, and build your portfolio. I've learned that the sooner you start, the more your money can grow over time. It's about making your money work for you, not the other way around.

˖⁺‧₊ PS. Forget the lottery mentality. Real wealth is built through smart investing. Educate yourself on stocks, bonds, real estate—whatever piques your interest. Start small, diversify, and let your money work for you.˖⁺‧₊

5. Build Multiple Streams of Income: Oh my osh! I cannot stress enough the importance of this! Your 9-to-5 isn't your only option. I've hustled with side gigs, freelancing—you name it. Multiple streams of income give you security and freedom. Don't limit yourself—explore what lights you up and brings in the cash.

6. Protect Yourself: Life's unpredictable, but you can be prepared. Having health insurance and an emergency fund can be lifesavers. It's about peace of mind and knowing you're covered, no matter what.

˖⁺‧₊ Get health insurance, build an emergency fund, and consider long-term savings like retirement plans.˖⁺‧₊

7. Own Your Future: Financial freedom isn't an end goal; it's a mindset. It's about having choices and the power to live life on your terms. Stay focused, stay disciplined, and never settle for less than you deserve.

Your money is your shield. Make it stronger, fairly. I completely understand that nowadays there are countless ways to earn income, but always choose the ones that align with your values.

You can click here to get your own goodnotes planner at my store GlowInGrow at 75% DISCOUNT.

However, if you're into making some extra cash while you hustle towards your goals, I've got this cool affiliate program, click here to JOIN US 30% COMMISSION. It's all about empowering each other to glow and grow. Let's support each other on this journey, because together, we're unstoppable. 💪💸

Last but not least, at the end of your journey of becoming that girl awaits the future who is The Girl!

Stay safe and stay hot...

With Love, Hanalia

[croworro]

Schlatt and ted w a model reader will heal my heart!!!!

Beyond the catwalk

Pairings: jschlatt x Reader, Ted Nivison x reader

Warnings: Fem! Reader, sort of poly dynamic?

Drabble

Ted is endlessly fascinated by your career

He loves attending your fashions shows and photo shoots

Your biggest hype man

He would always be there on the sidelines with a treat for you after, or a bouquet of flowers

He has a second Instagram account dedicated to photos of you that he has taken

He also has helped you put together your entire professional portfolio

Always gives you a goofy pep talk before shoots or shows, making you giggle and loosen up

"You're literally killing it out there," or "Who else could pull off this look? No one!"

Ted is also super supportive of your crazy schedule

If you have to fly out or travel for a project he sends you billions of reassuring texts and of course FaceTimes you to hype you up

Ted is also fiercely protective (so is schlatt)

He is the first to stand up for you if you face any criticism, but also understands that you require criticism to grow in the field

He encourages you to listen to the feedback and does his best to lighten your mood

If you land a big gig Ted is not shy about celebrating

He will throw a huge celebration

He is also constantly hyping you up (bragging about you) on his socials

His playful attitude grounds you in the serious field

While schlatt on the other hand…

Schlatt is a bit more reserved but his support is no less intense

Schlatt provides unwavering stability

He’s not the loudest cheerleader but his pride in you is evident in everything he does

Although schlatt will brag about you at any chance he gets

“Yeah my girl was just on the cover of vogue, no big deal”

Whenever someone asks about your career career, Schlatt will drop your latest achievement with a smug grin. "Oh, they're doing another photoshoot today. You know, for a pretty major brand. You probably haven't heard of them... it's fine."

He likes your more casual unpolished side, like when the three of you are home just in your sweats

He may pretend to not care about fashion, but he secretly loves hearing you talk about it

He even starts recognizing designer names

He also spoils the ever loving shit out of you

Door dashing you food on set, sending flowers to set, bottles of champagne to set… the list goes on

He will gladly hold all your bags while you shop with his card

While schlatt is quieter in public he will snuggle you for hours and tell you how proud he is of you

You love dressing them both up for events, and honestly they love it too

Red carpet? They’re there with you

Ted loves the cameras while schlatt is a bit more reserved

But damn if y’all don’t look hot as fuck together

Modeling all of their merch of course

Schlatt also bases one of the gamersupps designs off a photo of you

Internet is honestly baffled with how these two oafs landed a hottie like you

You start doing influencer stuff with the help of schlatt and Ted, eventually building your own following

You’re honestly the glue of the relationship, balancing out their demeanors

Outings with the three of you are adorable, with your rise in popularity you occasionally attract paparazzi, leading to often adorable candids of your outings

Ted and schlatt are often seen carrying your things and using their height to block you from the paparazzi’s view

They basically act as your personal bodyguards, and before people find out the three of you are in a relationship they actually think they’re your bodyguards (at least the people who don’t know they’re YouTubers)

The three of you decide to go out for dinner at a trendy, upscale restaurant one night that's become one of your favorite spots.

As you three exit you are bombarded with flashes of light and yelling

Ted would immediately notice and wrap an arm around you

He would wave at the paparazzi to take the attention of you, maintaining a goofy demeanor but still being stern and keeping you safe

"Hey, yeah, we're all here! You got what you need? Okay good bye.”

Schlatt would steer you three through the crowd, his quiet protective nature taking over

Will push paparazzi away if they’re hassling you too much or getting too close

Focuses on keeping you calm

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this. We’re almost to the car.”

With your skyrocket of popularity the three of you are under constant scrutiny

You become overwhelmed with guilt

Constantly apologizing to schlatt and Ted, for the strain and unwanted attention

Ted just laughs it off and stays unwavering in his support

"Oh please, don't apologize. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't get to be the coolest guy in the room," he teases, wrapping an arm around their shoulders.

"Besides, what else are partners for? We take on everything together," he adds with a wink. "Plus I always had an inkling that you were going to be a star.”

Schlatt is always the calm voice of reason (surprisingly)

"You're not the problem," he says, his voice soft yet firm. "This attention comes with the territory, and we knew that. It's just part of the package. You're doing amazing."

Literally the most supportive boyfriends ever

This is actually so cutie, they would be such good boyfriends

I hope I did a good job with this, and that this is what you had in mind 😅💋

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Five

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My nearly found Unfamiliar,

I feel I should be offended by this hasty scrawl of a message, yet I am just happy to hold your parchment once more. If your letter shall be brief, mine will be too. Even after we meet, I think I might like to keep these letters going. They are invigorating in ways I never expected. I am confident I will find you, as even if my guesses are incorrect I plan on not giving up until I find you and dance an almain with you. 

You are devious and wicked in the ways that you tease me! But I am smart, I will find you. I will look for rubies and I will speak our word and then… It is up to you. I trust that even finding you will make me the happiest man in the seven kingdoms, and I will put the future in your hands. 

Soon Yours,

Your Unfamiliar

Excitement surges through you as you hold the letter to you, girlish and giddy. Each time you read the note it feels as if fate is knocking at your chamber doors instead of the serving girls or Alicent calling upon you. He feels so close, so near. You never took yourself for such a sentimental woman, but this letter gets placed with all the others, in a beautifully embossed portfolio for parchment. You agree with his letter, that you want to keep this practice going even after you find one another. It will be a lovely day when you can fill this portfolio, or years down the line you can read them from the beginning. You can imagine laughing with him about your eagerness to meet and the way the two of you were bold and promiscuous. You picture yourself, wrinkled smile in the candlelight as you point out how you were thinking during these letters, his auburn hair turning grey and -

No! Not auburn. You shudder as you banish the thought from your head. Thats more than enough fantasy for today. 

You wind the leather strap around the button fastening closed the portfolio and set it aside, knowing there is much to plan. 

You fuss in front of the looking glass, certain the hour was growing short and you would be sent for soon for the feast. Your hair had been up, to the side, plaited, and pinned. You’ve decided to settle on pulling it off of your face, letting the rest of it cascade down with little adornment besides a comb dazzled with rubies. That was the pin in all of this. Dress color did not matter, though you wore a deep wine red dress that made your body look divine, as long as rubies accompanied you. Rubies were how your Unfamiliar would know you, rubies were the color of passion. If blue for loyalty was to be making trend in the court, you shall buck the system with your own symbolic color.

This is the best it will get, you think, not unconvinced of your looks but moreso knowing that fiddling with it any further will make ruin of it.

“I should have expected you would be my seat mate,” Gwayne quips, wine goblet already in hand and seated at the long table upon the newly dubbed “Green Council” side. You suppose court may only get uglier from here, and Alicent’s letter writing plan was a beacon in the dark much like the light of the high tower itself.

“We are the queen’s favorite people,” you reply, smoothing and adjusting the skirts of your dress to sit comfortably.

“Although we may be each other’s least favorite,” he jokes, and you raise your own wine goblet to clink your rim against his.

“I will agree to that.”

“You look lovely.”

“I- Thank you, Ser Gwayne.”

He drinks from his goblet and turns his attention back to the festivities, the great hall already buzzing with people talking and enjoying their food as the royal family and their parties all enter. Sure enough, you see more couples now than you had at the last feast, a testament to letter writings success. The troupe in the corner plays quietly, calm music that does not dare drown out the droning of conversation.

“Are you going to miss him?” Gwayne speaks up.

“Who?”

“Daeron.”

“Oh my littlest dragon!” you exclaim, “Yes I suppose I’ll miss him quite terribly.”

You lean over to him slightly.

“Do not tell the other little princelings or princess, but my wish was to spoil Daeron rotten.”

Gwayne chuckles at that. The eldest of the royal children have their own table, but Daeron is still at Alicent’s side. The elder three, as you can already see, are causing a ruckus. With Aegon ranting about…. something, Helaena holding up… another something you don’t wish to identify, and Aemond glaring up at the adult’s table.

“Your secret is safe with me,” He says, adding, “But if you wish to send him letters with his mother’s I will read them all the same.”

“You are being suspiciously kind to me, Ser Gwayne.”

The knight only shrugs.

“Tis a feast that followed a tourney. I am in good spirits.”

“Perhaps if you continue being so kind, I will greet you with less venom the next time you arrive.”

“Oh come now, My Lady, venom is our thing. Do not go soft on me.”

You laugh, genuinely, and from the corner of your eye you can see Alicent down the other side of the table looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind.

The rest of dinner is hardly touched, instead conversation and wine flow more freely, though jabs are still to be had.

“Would you care to dance?” Gwayne asks as he pushes his chair away from the large table. 

Oddly, you do not find yourself balking at the idea. Gwayne has been kind, enjoyable even tonight so far. What is one dance? I could not hurt as a way to get yourself onto the dance floor. You do have an Almain tonight you do not want to miss. 

“I do like dancing,” you admit as you hold out your hand for him. Gwayne takes your hand gently and guides you to stand. The song playing is slow, a little intimate for this point in the night, but you trust the royal musicians, they understand the mood of the room. Gwayne spins you the moment your feet touch the dance floor, a flourishing display of your skirts to show you off to the entire room before he brings you into his hold. One warm hand finds its way to your bodice, and the other stays clasped to yours. He moves with grace, each step carefully rehearsed yet feeling earnest and natural. 

“How are you enjoying the evening?” he asks, smiling easily as his eyes find yours.

“It’s lovely! A blessing on this new little princeling, and a fun night for people of little consequence such as ourselves,” you exclaim, your free hand finding his shoulder, fingertips brushing the velvet of his tunic. It’s fitting, you think, for Gwayne to wear rich velvets despite being a knight. He is a son of maybe the richest house in all the kingdoms besides the crown itself, and much more educated and trained than your average knight even for a noble house. It suits him as a fabric, rich and bold. But most importantly, it is soft and gentle under your hands.

“I must agree with you, I find myself having more fun than I’ve had in ages,” Gwyane says, and punctuates it with another twirl around. He’s bringing you towards the center of the dance floor, where already most of the court have congregated. Skirts flutter and men’s chains of silver and gold glitter in the light. 

The dance is quick, a swirling and complicated thing, and Gwayne guides you through it near perfectly. 

And then the dance ends with the song, and Gwayne’s hold on you loosens but does not completely leave you. Something odd hangs in the air, like a word unspoken or a shift of the weather. You find yourself not wanting to stray far from Gwayne Hightower.

“Another dance?” you ask.

“And here I thought you could not stand me.”

“I can overlook that because you are better at dancing than I expected.”

“As you wish, My Lady.”

And with that he pulls you closer in his grasp again, and as the next song begins he pulls you along the floor. 

“How are your letters going? I would have thought you would have had your lady here and courting by now,” you bring up the letters, the only topic thats ever burning on your mind, yet Gwayne feels like the one person it is not a secret to discuss with. 

“It troubles me!” he admits, a laugh coming freely as he speaks, “I wish to know her! I wish to marry her. She is so incredible, so smart and full of humor. I know that I will be smitten when I see her. If she were to reject me, I would be bereft.”

His words are nothing short of a serious declaration of his intentions. You must admit, it’s moving to see Gwayne Hightower this passionate. It’s a level of sincerity and passion you did not expect him to have outside of a training yard or tourney. 

“Then I do hope she is just as smitten,” your lips turn upwards, but not in a smirk like it usually is around Gwayne, “For I fear for what would happen if you were in a sour mood.”

Gwayne laughs, a loud and boisterous sound that makes little lines crinkle at the sides of his eyes and make each of his teeth glimmer under the light of the chandeliers. 

“And you?” he asks, something teasing (though toothy, not biting) in his smile, “What are your true feelings on this letter business, now that you know mine?”

“I must admit, your sister’s little scheme with these letters is maddening,” you smile as you say it, “I mean, I’m even wearing every ruby I own because a week ago a promised a man I don’t even know that I would give him some kind of sign!”

Your voice is more exasperated than you intend for it to sound, the wine from dinner easing you. Your hand on Gwayne’s shoulder flexes and then relaxes again, not quite a squeeze, but not nothing. His velvet tunic is soft under your fingertips, lovely and lush. His eyes seem to widen at your admission, and the expression confuses you. It would be odd for him to be surprised at this point, as he knows for weeks this has troubled you. Your hand slips from his shoulder as you step back, your arm making a sweeping motion as you dip backward before coming back to his arms. 

“I- I am surprised you have not found him yet,” he stutters, an unusual thing for Gwayne, usually so sure and even tempered. To hear him stutter is to watch him be knocked in a tilt; concerning and betraying of something wrong beneath the surface. It unnerves you. 

“And why is that, Ser Gwayne?” The way you speak is teasing, playfully rather than full of barbs. He sighs deeply, and looks at you. Really looks at you. Not his teasing glances that irk you, not his hungered gaze upon your legs, not a scowl. Gwayne looks upon you as if it is your first meeting, searching your face for signs of something. Perhaps he is, perhaps this is Gwayne seeing you for more than a shrill shrew at his sister’s side. Maybe this is him seeing you as something other than a game, a skirt to tease and bother at any time. Even more, maybe this means that he would welcome you at Oldtown if you were to visit Daeron. 

“I would think someone as headstrong and intelligent as you would have found your writer by now,” Gwayne explains, a smile returning to his face, “I know you would not give up until you were having clandestine rendezvous in scarce used parts of the Keep.”

You blink. No, certainly you didn’t hear him correctly? The music is much too loud. 

“What was that, you said?”

Gwayne falters as your smile fades.

“That- That you would be having clandestine rendezvous with your writer?”

“You,” the word escapes you, “Unfamiliar.”

Gwayne’s lips tug upward at the corner, a weaker smile this time. 

Your Unfamiliar, your traveled unfamiliar, your dearest unfamiliar, your now found unfamiliar. It cannot be. Gwayne, the one with the pen. Gwayne, who boasts of his exploits with women; Gwayne, your champion who weaved you a crown; Gwayne, who angers you to the point of screaming. No, it could not be him that writes you in promise of travel, a life of adventure. He cannot be the one who writes you so genuinely, so freely and so sensitively. It is a trick, you think, he must be tricking you. Some form of humiliation on your end through this scheme.

Your hands slip from him, and infuriatingly chaste he lets you step away. 

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head as if that will erase the knowledge, “Not you.”

“Why not me?” he asks, and something heavy settles in your chest. 

“You mock me! Have you known the whole time?” you scoff, stepping back even further, “Love and Beauty? Ha!”

Your lips tighten into a quivering line, threatening to betray you further. 

“I only discovered you tonight,” he says.

“I do not believe you,” you tell him, and you turn on your heel. Luckily, there is a corridor at the wall near the edge of the dance floor, and with haste you will be back in your chambers and you may forget all of this. 

“Wait! Must you go?” Gwayne calls, loud enough to hear you. Heads turn, and your face burns even more. You turn back around to see him, to see a knight with his face creased with an emotion you do not recognize. 

“I cannot-“ you shake your head, “It cannot be you.”

With that, you turn, and run. Once again, you put distance between yourself and Gwayne Hightower. It cannot be him. He cannot be the one who angers you daily, yet writes you so sweetly with honeyed words. Gwayne Hightower cannot be your Unfamiliar.

You do not stop until you reach your chambers, slamming the door shut behind you. You all but tear off your rubies, your pretty dress, feeling tainted now. Once again, you have dressed for nothing. Once you are bare you throw yourself onto you bed, a dreamless sleep 

His most recent letter will go without response. 

[sardonycal]

okay lemme just do a quick lil self-introduction bc i think its long overdue LMAO

so hello ! my user tag is sardonycal but you can just call me C. or Cee, whichever would be the quickest for you to type :>

apart from being a stik figur fan artist, im also a character designer, storyboard artist, and animator— so occasionally ill post some of my works related to that here too bc i did intend to use this tumblr blog as an additional portfolio ,, but im whimsical so its gonna be mixed from now on HAHAHA

im a lot more active and talkative on my twitter, im always late to update my instagram but im there too, aaaand i also have a tiktok and youtube which i plan on updating as i continue to grow my experiences :>

but other than that, yep ! thats me right on there doodles. or how i draw myself at least. nice to meet you ! :D

[shroomsnsuch]

I think my favourite thing about web revival is that is also coincides with social media addiction and the core web, like yea we all are so viscerally intertwined with this thing that we've labelled as 'social media,' instead being addicted to surfing the web or getting lost in web rings or rabbit holes, to accessing this virtual realm, we are addicted to these corporations that have monopolized the web! We are, and spending more time in the real world is so, so important. The small web, the peripheral web, honestly encourages a distance from the digital space as a whole. (at least for me)

I have to put effort in engaging in these sites people create. Despite being so excited for educating myself on the digital space and tech in general, in the process I'm being educated on the ways these corporations exploit and get us addicted to mentioned monopolies. Not like I didn't know, of course I was aware, but it's this vague knowing and not much motivation or ability to overcome the reality. Engaging in the core web because that's where everybody is, that's what it felt like. Being there because that was the reality of the situation. Being there because that's where the wealth of media and people are, but with web revival and the small web there is a sense of hope.

Spacehey running slower due to an influx of users, people posting everyday on forums, portfolios and blogs on neocities, it's amazing. I hope personal websites spread like fire, I hope the core internet loses some of its consistency and spreads out. That videos are posted on websites, that one day YouTube is met with a competitor. That we have to put effort in curating who we interact with. I want to put aside the fear that with popularity that somehow this amazing revolution is tainted in someway. I'd rather the size of the movement grow instead of holding onto this fake concept of small web 'purity,' which I've seen a bit. I'd rather the world have a sense of choice from the core web, personal freedom over monopoly, rather than keep this culture isolated and grassroots.

[manifesting-principessa]

the beginner's guide to making money by investing in stocks (hot girl version)

since one of my goals here is to make money i wanted to teach you about what i know about investing in stocks. i use the website etoro to invest, below you can see a picture of my portfolio at the moment. i am by no means an expert but i've found the whole process of investing to be unnecessarily mystified so i thought i'd share what i have learned so far.

what does buying stocks mean?

in simple terms, buying stocks means buying a (tiny) fraction of a company. if the value of the company increases the value of your share goes up, if the company loses money the value goes down.

when should i buy and sell?

ideally, you should buy when you think that the value of a stock will increase in the future and you should sell when you have made a profit. in practice, this means you try to invest when a stock has reached its lowest value and you sell when you think it has reached its peak (but this is, of course, impossible to predict perfectly).

where can i buy stocks?

i would personally recommend going through an online stock trading platform, like etoro. you can look up what the best stock trading platforms are for your country. you should pick one with minimal fees that offers some tutorial or introduction to trading.

you can also go through a stock broker (a person that makes the investments for you) or more broadly your bank - be aware though, that they might take a cut of your profit for their services which is something you need to subtract from your expected profit.

how do i know what to invest in?

There are a few recommendations that I have seen time and time again:

ETFs - exchange-traded funds are bundles of stocks that are traded together. the advantage of ETFs is that they don't rely on a single company making a profit, the companies just need to make a profit overall. they are much less volatile than individual stocks and since economies usually always grow in the long-term, you are very likely to make a profit.

large companies - you can also invest in large, well-established companies that are very likely to make a profit and very unlikely to go bankrupt (e.g., apple, amazon, etc.)

diversify - this means you should invest in a wide variety of companies and industries. even when one of them does really poorly you are likely to make a profit overall.

copy-trading - this means 'copying' the investments of a more experienced trader. so you specify an amount of money and invest it the same way someone who knows what they're doing is.

how much should i invest?

most websites have a minimum amount you need to invest so you could start with that to get a feel for how it works.

as a rule of thumb, they say you should not invest money that you will need within the next 5-10 years. that rule prevents you from having to sell your stock at an unfortunate moment - even if you initially write losses, you can wait for a moment when your stocks have increased in value again.

if you have a fixed income you can commit to investing a part of your income every month. i've seen this referred to as dollar-cost averaging and i have not tried it yet but it is said to be a good way to build wealth in the long term.

how do i actually make money using this knowledge?

simple answer: by selling your stock at the right time and withdrawing the money. investing is a marathon, not a sprint - you should generally give your money some time to make a profit instead of checking every day and panic selling when you see a slight change. for some stocks, the company may also pay dividends. disclaimer: at least where i am from you need to declare what you made from stocks as income and pay taxes on it.

thank you so much for reading!

if you have questions or know more about this and want to add something please leave a comment 💕

[trickingbell]

Sisselcon Reference Page

Opening up my skull so she can fly out like a moth. FIANSISSEL!!!! Below is all the info and a bunch of doodles I have of her! I typed so much...whoops

When I first finished grick, Yomiel was burning me. I cared him so bad. Then learning he was a wife guy made it so much worse. Things happened. She faded into reality because they're inseparable and I can't think of one without the other they deserve to be happy oh don't Start.

Miss Sissel is the CEO of her own contract engineering company! Her half-mechanic and half-business portfolio has made her and her employees a MUST SIGN ON for other businesses. A go to for any big tech project needs!! (Name pending, I forgot to write it down. Let's just call it Sisco Inc). Despite the smiles and sun, she runs her people like the navy and while ideal on paper...Sissel'd character ends up making employees and contractors alike feel like they're walking on glass. On floor made of ice...

In simpler terms, she's a brat. Blunt, whiny, picky and obnoxious since she can get away with it. But she does have a heavy heart of love, thankful for the people who stick around after the initial spike trap of her personality. Which is her "Miel" aka Yomiel. Obviously.

Spinning each other around. Yomiel's got a spike trap too but the both of them ran over each other's and tripped head over heels like idiots. Particular picky people with prickly personalities perfectly poke one another in a perfect way~ They give everything to one another straight and as is which made all of their talks easier and better to have. The honesty and understanding two people like them absolutely value when others are harder to get the same out of. Because of it they completely avoid anything complicated or difficult since they're sooooo on the same wavelength...which is again good on paper but bad in practice. Making situations like her suicide possible, gone over without much knowledge of it. If that makes sense? I hope it does, I don't mind answering questions about the them in my head. HAPPIER NOTE: They're both stem idiots who don't know how to cook. They rely on the microwave like one of the gods...

She's an only child of one mother and one father. And... friendless. For reasons mentioned above, you can sort of guess that there aren't many people who tolerate her. However, post-canon this changes significantly when a Sissel Mix-up happens and she firmly attaches herself to the Jowds. Alma and her don't have many things in common, but that doesn't mean the company isn't enjoyed. Sissel learns a lot about socializing and connecting with people due to her growing friendship with Alma. A real admiration of...so many things Sissel suddenly cares about adapting into herself while Yomiel is locked away. Almost like a beautiful-woman-wife-mentor (Alma will laugh and take the silly compliment)

Jowd had intended to never cross paths with her if he could help it, post-canon at least. Unfortunate. Now that they have though, while meeting under much calmer circumstances, they're unpleasantly similar. Which is shocking, because they really really don't seem like it. Like at all. Sissel is fine getting to add him to her catalogue of people who tolerate her. But she isn't blind. There's a certain unease she can tell coming off of him but chalks it up to the whole... husband in the park and prison thing. Because of the Sissel Mix-Up, she doesn't really hate him for it. Maybe on a bad night, but there's other things she'd rather focus on when she remembers that this SHOULD be awkward....More of that avoiding difficult things if she can.

On the opposite end from Sissel and Jowd....Cabanela is... At the request of her beloved Miel, she promised to not let despair over his absence take up the most of her feelings. She has to live. Whatever he means by that... But she can't get rid of it magically. The sudden relationships she's gotten from Jowd and Alma are pleasant and distracting. This proximity unfortunately means that Cabanela is Around. That despair of hers inches up and makes her bitter at the thought of him. A white coated reminder in the middle of all her distractions that makes her want to give up...but she promised. Miel didn't say anything about anger. If it keeps her alive, she'll be angry. Spike trap made into a minefield. Bombs everywhere but hidden away...for Alma and Jowd's comfort. Without them around though... There's a lot here but this post is already so so long the sun was UP when I started typing.

Uhhh the other suggested questions. Does she have any hobbies? No, I need her to get some I need her to go outside. Likes and dislikes? She has an extreme adoration for romance media of all kind that started in childhood, it's made her ideas of it very fantasy like. You already know what happened to her when she lost her dream future. Dislikes? Cabanela, spicy foods, and a foolish encounter at work. What does she know, if anything, post-canon? Nothing about temsik, but she is suspicious of Jowd and Alma. While she's thankful and very happy around them, it is a bit Strange that she was allowed to be friends with them...and how Yomiel seemed to know them a lot for just one awful day...Suspects some sort of cheating soap opera drama akin to her romance tales. Where Kamila is Yomiel's daughter, and this was all a sham to get rid of him that Backfired on everyone...

I'm alright and okay with any genres of her! No gore though or of her canon suicide. I want to draw it myself one day, so maybe some other time! Suggestive/NSFT? Go for it. I'd also like a heads up though about it.

LASTLY. HERE'S FICS I'VE MADE WITH HER IN THEM Times They Saw Her It's Still A Special Day You Keep Me Awake(Without meaning to)

EXTRA DOODLES AND DRAWINGS I HAVE OF HER

[kerubimcrepin]

What do we know about Joris le Sans-Pouvoir (Joris the Powerless)?

Aka, addressing the "cancelled Nintendo DS game"-shaped elephant in the room.

While this blog has gone deep into the show and character dissections, I think it would be remiss to proceed without addressing the elephant in the room — the game, the myth, the legend, the 2007-2009ish cancelled game Joris le Sans-Pouvoir.

There isn't a lot that is known about it, and all the data in this post comes from two developers.

The only videos of it we have available are uhhh......,

...Please say "Thanks Ronik!" for this video in particular.

I spent hours trying to convert these two SWF animation video files, — which demonstrate how the game was supposed to look, — to something actually viewable. There were many issues, with at least seven different programs.

I suffered for crepinjurgenology studies, but I did it.

Instead of recounting the story in my own words and omitting anything on accident, I will simply present to you, what the portfolios of two different developers say (these two pages are the source of all the images, gifs, and gameplay):

Joris Le sans-Pouvoir is the main character from a feature film Ankama due in 2013. It’s a new character IP situated in the DOFUS universe. I had the chance to work on a platform game prototype that was all about delving into of the character’s backstory. We wrote a lot of background and had a lot of fun designing and developping a cute and quirky platformer with a hint of metroidvania elements and a dash of Grow gameplay elements in-between levels. It also was a great opportunity to work with Jono Takeshi-san of Radiata Stories fame who worked with me on the art direction. (SOURCE)

Joris was the first Nintendo DS project developed at Ankama (in partnership with Magic Pockets). I began working on the project as narrative game designer, then took on the role of Lead Designer and Project Manager. Game design on this project involved boss fight, level design, minigame design, UI… I also designed an original collecting system where collectible items were used in a minigame inspired by the “Grow” series. The developpement has been put on hold to match the release of the animated movie with the same character (scheduled in 2013). (SOURCE)

Neither the movie nor the game, survived their development, due to circumstances. (shorthand for: I have no idea what happened, man. Maybe one day I'll write a post about the history of the movie, and truly open that can of worms, but god, not right now. I don't want to spend more time on this.)

Eventually, The Wakfu film turned into three OVAs instead, and the Dofus film changed its plot a bunch of times, and became Livre 1 : Julith.

...For some reason, in some version of it, Joris had a tail. Yeah, I don't know what that's about either. Cool clothes, though!

We don't know anything about its plot, and unlike cancelled projects Dofus Donjons and Welsh et Shedar (which was cancelled for years, until its recent resurrection), the lore of this game carries no relevancy in modern canon.

The name, Joris the Powerless, as well as the log-centric gameplay, both seem to reference the early concept that Joris had log-based powers, — and that without his "magic wand," he couldn't do much.

(Joris and his weird fucking "magic wand" were, in turn, borne out of the idea of a warrior who had a woman's voice. Which makes me chuckle.)

(The following quotes are machine-translated and may contain errors)

(SOURCE)

This is, by the way, the reason why I personally headcanon Joris to be really bad at huppermagic. So bad that he dropped out of the Huppermage Academy, and almost never uses magic in combat. It's a homage to his original idea.

(Yes, there is an actual reason why I headcanon Joris to be godawful at magic, besides just projecting my neurodivergencies onto him.)

I suppose that, even at this time, Joris was meant to be a store owner:

The gameplay loop involves going from boutique, to missions, and so on, while those two pieces of concept art involve the said boutique section, and show a female character saying «Pas mal, boss !».

In my opinion, it might be this character. Proto-Simone, perhaps?

Since the store seems to be the centerpiece, and the Grow-style minigames involved collectibles, I would assume that the plot involved Joris going around and finding artifacts for the store. That would also explain the concept art gifs of him adventuring.

(Though, the adventuring would probably just be the inciting incident/a vehicle for plot development. Nintendo DS games loved using the jobs characters did for that purpose.)

This is the extent of what I can surmise about the plot.

The developer portfolios also included these example documents, but the image quality is too bad for me to make sense of or upscale. I am including them here solely for some French people who are very good at reading blurry text. (If you learn anything, let me know, okay?)

Overall, my verdict is that this game's cancellation was both a blessing (Joris without Kerubim and Atcham is like tea without water and a cup. How am I meant to drink leaves? Are you stupid? Why are you giving me leaves with nothing?) and a curse (THEY CANCELLED A GAME ABOUT MY BLUE-COLORED YOINKY SPLOINKY (who has a THIN, GRABBABLE WAIST)????? FUCK!)

Hope this was a fun read!

[fangsandfeels]

I still find it very odd that Withers would hang around the group to the point of throwing a reunion party and regularly talking to Gale's mom (???). I'm all for chill and kind gods of death, but, like...Withers has never been like that, at least according to the lore. He has always been cold and emotionless, bordering on apathetic and indifferent - that's why he handed his portfolio over to the first three murderhobos who walked through the door. Like, it could be a snake oil salesman, and he would still appoint him the new god of Death. He just stopped giving a shit.

And, well, the only reason why he was even helping our group was because it was his punishment for the Dead Three. He was told to do it by Kelemvor, so he would just do his job and hope we won't die too often. It's not the best premise for growing fond of the mortals under his supervision. But, maybe, we did provide him with the most entertaining shitshow of the century (we piss off like, so many gods) that he decided to stay and watch.

My other (cracky) guess is that after main game events, Kelemvor basically said, "Alright, you did what was asked of you, good job, now get back into the tomb," and Withers started making shit up to prolong his stay. Obviously, a reunion BBQ is crucial to Faerun's fate. And so are luncheons with Morena Dekarios. Fate won't spin along without them.

[itsjustbell]

The Dive

Viktor x reader

Summary: It seems your feelings for your friend Viktor have grown into much more than you thought. When did this even happen?

This is literally just sappy drabble, just me gushing over Viktor. Too much time rewriting and editing--not nearly enough proofreading, but I'm trying to not focus on whether it's perfect or not. Hope it's at least comprehensible, haha. Enjoy <3

Love can be a lot of things. It can be a river, flowing constantly over and around obstacles, smoothing over hard edges, and even through stone with constant, gentle effort.

Love can be a fire. Growing from one glowing ember, with enough care and tenderness, to the roaring flame of a hearth. Strong enough to keep out the cold through dark winters and burning bright through even the most thunderous storms. 

But this… This had crept up on you, much like how sleep crawls to the insomniac. You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment that you fell, only noticing the floatiness of sleep once you’d already dived in headfirst. One moment you were fine, and the next you’d somehow found yourself opening eyes you didn’t even realize you had closed. 

You’d known Viktor for a while now, enough to comfortably secure yourself a spot amongst the few he harbored as friends. This…fluttering feeling that threatened to choke you whenever he was around, like the butterflies in your stomach were trying desperately to fly out of your mouth in the form of some lovesick confession. Never before had you felt so strongly about someone.  Never before had you craved someone. His mere presence alone seemed to soothe your anxiety ridden mine, while also somehow increasing it tenfold at the same time. Even when he was gone, he still managed to force his way into your thoughts. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were sick– And perhaps you were in a different sort of way. 

Has he always looked that good? Had the sun always caressed his cheek like that? What would that same cheek feel like under your own hand? The amount of hours you had spent wondering how it felt to cradle his face in your hands and gaze into those striking amber eyes that seemingly glowed in the golden light of the evening, and to have them stare back— as if you were a star yourself? The thought alone was dizzying. 

It wasn’t just that he looked like he was hand sculpted by the gods themselves. No, Viktor was more than just a pretty face. He was kind. Sure, he might’ve seemed like some self-righteous smart ass when you’d first met him, but under all that he was gentle. He was understanding. He made you feel seen. Talking to him felt so… easy. 

Maybe it was on one of those late nights in the lab after a long day in your studio that you fell. Soft, easy conversations and eyes filled with mirth as you both exchanged wild stories and the kinds of secrets that only seem to come out when the lights dim and the stars are out. 

You’d had four cups of coffee between the two of you. He was telling a story from his and Jayce’s academy days. One of the student galas towards the end of the year. 

“--I’d never seen Jayce more…more, how do you call it? Ehh…” 

“Wasted?” You offered. His eyes lit up. 

“Yes, wasted!” He laughed, “He looked about ready to tip over– and he did, right into some poor girl.” 

You shook your head as laughter bubbled out from your chest. “I think I heard about that on the tail end of the gossip chain.” 

“Eh, I’m surprised you didn’t see it with how large the crowd was.”

“I didn’t go.” 

He seemed surprised at this. 

“I was too busy finishing up my final projects that year, I think.” You looked down into your lukewarm cup of coffee, now forgotten on the desk you’d been sitting on. “Wanted a perfect portfolio… plus I didn’t really have anyone to go with.” 

When you’d looked back at him, there was something in his eyes that had made your skin buzz. If love – or whatever this is, is a fire, then surely what he’d said after were the first sparks. 

“I’m sure that if I– If we, me and Jayce that is, had met you earlier you could’ve gone with us,” 

  Something about that slight fumbling of his words. The slight pull of his eyes before he looked back down at the machine he was tinkering with. 

"Yea?"

“Yes, plus… it would’ve been nice to have someone else there to deal with the aftermath of Jayce’s poor choices.”

And every moment after that simply fanned the sparks into the rumbling flame that lived between your ribs. The first unknowing foot into the deep end.