#creative desk calendar

[creativables]

Ready to make 2025 your most creative year yet? ✨

Our brand-new 2025 Creativity Calendar is here! Whether you choose the digital version or a beautifully crafted physical one (yes, we ship worldwide!), you’ll be inspired to explore a unique creative theme each month.

🎯 How does it work? Each month offers a fun theme designed to spark your creativity. You can dive in solo or join our vibrant Facebook group to share your creations with a supportive community. Sharing is optional, but trying something new is the real magic! 💫

💌 Digital Nomad? Download it instantly! 📦 Love the tangible feel? Order the physical copy today!

Start 2025 with inspiration, imagination, and a sprinkle of courage. Let’s unleash your inner artist together! 💕

👉 Visit our store: https://bit.ly/creativables-store

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[lifeisyoung4everyone]

ZAYNE DOMESTIC HEADCANONS

PART 2

cw: suggestive +18 below cut!!!

Zayne who, when he doesn’t want to read research articles to get you asleep- due to how monotonous and tedious they get- instead reads ‘The Little Prince’ to you. Sometimes to tease you he turns the book and points to the picture like he’s reading it to a little kid or something. If you react with a warning paw to his arm he’ll respond with a breathy chuckle.

Zayne who always steals a sip of your drink with your straw when you’re out on a lunch date. Will tell you that a variety of liquids is good for the diet if you call him out.

Zayne who responds to the doodles you make on the calendar hung on his kitchen wall with his own snowman doodles. You can tell there’s a lot of love behind them but certainly also a lazily held pen (which you’ll allow since he does these very early in the morning before work). Other times he’ll just respond with comments like “oh really?” to the nonsense you write and graffiti on that thing.

Zayne who enjoys all kinds of sweet cold treats but always has some classic Magnum ice creams in his freezer drawer because it’s a reliable choice. He can’t nag you and will just give a touché happy sigh about any sort of snacks you store next to his beloved Magnums: it’s your checkmate.

Zayne who has a small potted plant in the desk of his office. He’s never really went too long without watering it, but ever since you’ve put a plant poke with a cute little character to give company to his plant, he’s never been more motivated to water it. It certainly adds a bit of you to his space, and he has the habit of stroking the little plant’s leaves in caress when he thinks of you during work.

Zayne who packs your bag for uni or work if he knows you’ll be too busy to attend to it until the morning or if you’ve dozed off already.

Zayne who readjusts your sleeping positions with the most gentle hands, otherwise he can’t be soothed to continue doing anything else. He gets prickles on his back just to think about you waking up with a hurting back.

Zayne who feels contentment he can’t describe when he slides his closet door open and opens the shallow little accessory drawer, and finds your jewellery in a specialised velvet tray and his prescription glasses on the other end.

Zayne who because of you, has a little egg timer resemblant of a chicken to help out when he cooks. He used to just use alarms on his phone, but ever since your silly little gift, he won’t use anything else. The first thing he did when he found the incongruous little chicken character was ask if you if it had a name.

Zayne who picked up your little habit of storing socks as little balls. When you’re both sat on the bed balling up his and your socks, he’ll grab one like a snowball and boop it to the side of your cheek.

Zayne who when he sees you really sluggish coming out the shower, will get you dressed and have you sit cross-legged on the edge of the bed mattress as he stands and dries your hair with the hairdryer.

Zayne who once put your soiled slippers in the washing machine while you slept before leaving for work in a really early dark winter morning. He kissed your hand and jotted down a little note on the bedside table for you to use his slippers instead, which were faced outwards from where you’d naturally put your feet to get up from bed.

Zayne who has a regime with you of cutting and peeling fruits for each other back and forth. Once outdid you by making his orange to you look like a water lily, knowing and having schemed that you couldn’t do anything more creative. The bastard. All your oranges from henceforth were like that, to rub it in your face with the excuse of vitamin D. Yeah right. You’ll get him.

Zayne who involuntarily (or voluntarily, who knows) flusters you when removing your underwear from the plastic peg rack. Upon meeting your dazzled face, holds the cloth almost touching the side of his cheek.“Should I not take this garment to face value?”

[novlr]

I have a bad habit of never finishing writing I start - I work hard on a story, make it to 3/4 of the way through, then lose passion for it and start something else. I know the key to overcoming this is discipline, and I’m trying very hard to make myself keep going with my current story that I like very much and spent so much time researching and outlining, but it’s a struggle every day to make my writing goal. Any advice for how to re-ignite writing spark or how to push through to the end?

We can lose our drive to write for a lot of reasons. It often indicates a growing maturity as an artist — you understand the craft better and your own (current) limitations better, and so you begin to feel overwhelmed in a way you didn’t before. It can also be that external anxieties are getting in the way or simply that you’ve lost interest in your current project. 

Hope is not lost. Read on for some tips on reclaiming your writing spark. 

Shift gears

Sometimes, all you need to reignite your writing spark is to engage your brain in a different way. If you’re struggling with your novel, take a break and try writing a poem or a piece of flash fiction. Or, you could try drawing sketches of your characters, a map of your story’s world, or some possible outfits for your climactic battle scene (it doesn’t have to be good. No one’s going to see it). 

The trick is to stay creative but to approach your work from a different angle. 

Change location

If you’ve been trying and failing to write at your desk, surrounded by crumpled up dreams drafts and last week’s candy wrappers, you may be suffering from an environment with stagnant energy. Try taking yourself on a writer’s date: go to a location that fits the tone of the project you’re working on (lux hotel lobby, seedy theatre bar, the wilds of a nearby park), and see if that gets your creative wheels turning. 

Dress [in]appropriately 

In Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg has a chapter called “Blue Lipstick and a Cigarette Hanging Out Your Mouth”. By this she meant, “Use outfits and props to step outside yourself and get a new perspective”. You might find it helpful to have a special “writer’s sweater” that you only wear when you’re writing or to dress like someone confident and cool enough to smash writer’s block in the face. 

Do some soul-searching

What’s really going on here? If the above tricks aren’t doing it for you, there may be some bigger issues at play that are inhibiting you from connecting to your writing spark. 

Write letters

I’ve written about the restorative powers of letter writing before, and I’ll mention it again: handwritten letters are a great way to get the words flowing. You don’t actually have to send them when you’re done (although you can if you want to); the recipient doesn’t even need to exist. Simply by putting your thoughts down in a low-risk way, you’re unclogging your creative pipes. 

Join a writing group

There’s power and accountability in numbers. You can find writing groups online, through community centres and writers centres, or by sticking a flyer up in a bookshop and starting your own. There’s even a Novlr writing community on Discord where we share tips, struggles, and just generally talk craft! By inviting other people into your writing practice, you’ll have some support and encouragement to keep you going. 

Find your writing spark with writing prompts

The internet is awash with writing prompts. These can be a helpful way to get something down on paper and stretch out your writing muscles. Whether it’s a premise, an opening line, or a character study, writing prompts can give you a gentle, creative push and even inspire new work.

Experiment with found structure

If writing a traditional story feels like pulling out your own teeth, try a found structure story. This means using fictional “found material” like shopping lists, calendars, to-do lists, ticket stubs, banking records, and so forth to create a narrative. 

Here’s an example: Imagine a week in which a bride-to-be prepares for her glorious wedding, is left at the altar, rages in misery, and ultimately emerges healthier and stronger. Now, write her shopping list for each day of that week. How does it change from beginning to end? How much emotional detail can you communicate to the reader through the items that appear on these lists? This can be a fun way to create a story without the anxiety of writing it.

Set a petty life goal

I am a proud champion of the value of pettiness as a motivator. There are plenty of noble reasons to write: to share powerful stories, to help readers in need of healing, to inspire others to write stories themselves, and to draw attention to important social issues or minority identities. 

There are also some really inane and selfish reasons to write: to become more famous than your ex, to appear on TV and make your ex regret everything they’ve ever done to you, to have your book made into a movie and receive casting consultation rights and pitch your favourite actor in the lead role and allow them to take you for coffee as a thank you. But the thing is… these are the motivations that are really going to pull you out of the dirt when you need it most. Find the silly driving goal that really gets under your skin and hold onto it for dear life. 

Forgive yourself

Many writers experience a lot of shame when they aren’t writing as much as they feel they should. Needless to say, this shame only makes the writing harder. Allow yourself the space to take some time when you need it, process your struggles, and return when you’re ready. The page will be waiting when you get back. 

[magicratfingers]

I wanna see some actual creative industry morning routines there’s no way everyone has an espresso machine and a gratitude journal

I hit snooze a few times

make coffee & read comics in bed

Walk the dogs

put a shirt over my pajamas

go to my desk with breakfast and more coffee

look at calico critters until the dread fades

play nytimes games

check my calendar, make a list of the 3 most important things I gotta do & get started

[nenelonomh]

improving productivity

productivity refers to the efficiency of turning inputs into outputs. it's a measure of performance that compares what's produced with the resources used to create it. the three types of productivity include economic productivity, labor productivity, and workplace productivity.

workplace (or personal) productivity refers to how much work is done within a specific time period. factors that influence workplace productivity include motivation, personality, talent, training, environment, support, and time management.

improving personal productivity involves adopting effective strategies and habits. systems. here are some tips:

prioritize tasks: identify high-priority tasks and focus on them first. use techniques like the eisenhower matrix to categorize tasks by urgency and importance. prioritizing is essential for several reasons. it helps you avoid getting bogged down in busywork and unimportant tasks. it reduces overwhelm and provides focus and structure. by focusing on what truly matters, you make progress toward your objectives and optimize your use of time and resources. prioritizing tasks streamline your workflow and increase efficiency. multitasking is less effective than focusing your attention on one task.

set clear goals: define specific, measurable goals. break them down into smaller steps to make the progress manageable. goals provide a compass for your actions. they guide you toward what truly matters, helping you prioritize tasks and decisions. clarity reduces distractions, allowing you to stay focused on opportunities aligned with your objectives. goals also serve as benchmarks, allowing you to measure progress and celebrate achievements.

time blocking: allocate specific blocks of time for different tasks. my favourite tools for this are the notion calendar (it gives a great visual representation of tasks). by dedicating specific blocks of time to tasks, you minimize distractions and stay on track. when you commit to time blocks, you're more likely to complete tasks within those periods. knowing when you'll work on specific tasks reduces anxiety. it creates predictability and reduces decision fatigue.

take breaks: regular breaks improve focus and prevent burnout. step away from your desk, and stretch, or take a short walk. relaxing activities improve well-being and calm the central nervous system. the ideal break duration depends on individual preferences and the nature of the work. some strategies include utilizing the pomodoro technique, or the 20-20-20 rule. for screen-related work, every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for at least 20 seconds. this reduces eye strain and refreshes focus. short breaks (5-10 minutes) are great for quick rejuvenation. longer breaks (15-30 minutes) allow deeper relaxation and can include a walk or light exercise.

stay healthy: prioritize sleep, exercise, and nutrition. a healthy body supports a productive mind. when you prioritize well-being, you create a solid foundation for effective work. chronic stress negatively impacts productivity. practice stress-reducing techniques like mindfulness, deep breathing, or meditation. a positive mindset enhances focus and creativity. prioritize self-care and emotional balance. invest in healthy habits such as good hydration, and balanced nutrition.

remember - productivity is about working smarter, not just harder. experiment with these strategies and find what works best for you!

i hope this post was helpful!

❤nene

[sdvbraindump]

sdv bachelors react to you being upset/mad because they forgot your relationship anniversary

Sorry for it being so late but I wanted to give this proper attention without being distracted from other writing.

Hope you like it! CW: light cursing, possible typos ❤️

Alex

Ahhh Alex... bless his heart. He'd text you in the middle of the day about something random and wouldn't pick up on your attitude through the messages. He'd think it's something else like the farm that's making you upset. But once he realizes he forgot your anniversary (he's weightlifting when he remembers), he's cursing himself out. He runs to Grandma Evelyn or bff Haley for help because he's not sure how to make it up to you.

He knows your favorite things but even he gets that he needs to step it up BIG TIME. A simple gift isn't going to be enough. After some brainstorming, he plans a special picnic that he made himself (with the help of Evelyn/Haley because he doesn't know how to cook nor does he want to poison you).

The only problem is he decides to do this all at 12:30 at night and you went to bed already (angry). He comes knocking on your door with a basket in tow. You're half asleep asking WHY did he think that the middle of the night was appropriate to go on a picnic. His answer is because he wanted to eat under the stars with you. You suspect he didn't think of that on his own, but when he mentions he made the food himself (reinforcing that Evelyn/Haley helped) your anger melts a little. You also realize that he's usually in bed by 9 so him being up so late means he screwed up and trying his best.

You end up sighing and inviting him in, insisting you two eat indoors. You also tell him he's staying over (sleeping on the couch though) to help you on the farm in the morning as part of him making it up to you. You already have planned for him to lift all those heavy fertilizer sacks to the other side of the farm.

Elliott

Elliott would rather be eaten by crabs than forget your anniversary. You're his muse after all. He might try to say it's another day just to see how you would react. But it would only last a few minutes before he consoles and reassures you that he knows the exact day.

Only exception is if he's deep into his work and loses track of time. He's in the middle of writing his novel, riding a huge creative wave that decided to come out the morning of your anniversary. He's so consumed by his writing, happy that his writer's block is gone, that he doesn't pay attention to the clock or remember that he was supposed to come by your farmhouse for dinner that night.

He'd be so tuned in that he doesn't stop until about 10 at night. He finally steps back from his desk admiring all the writing he completes and catches a glimpse of his calendar. When he sees what day it is, he's in shock. He also remembers he was supposed to come by your place almost three hours ago! He is beyond disgusted with himself!

He runs out of his cabin, clutching his gift to you in his hands. It's a journal that contains a collection of handwritten poems he started writing the day after you gave him a bouquet. He was waiting to give this to you today to show how much you mean to him.

He heads straight to your farm, and when you open the door (incredibly pissed) he's on his knees. He's grabbing your waist before he kisses your hand begging for forgiveness. He repeats that he's sorry over and over again, affirming that he loves you and will never let his creative process get in the way again all while hanging onto your waist. You're still mad, but you know that it would take a lot to make him forget. And when you see the journal you realize he truly cares. You're still mad, but it's starting to fade.

Harvey

Harvey thought he was going to be alone for the rest of his life. But then you came and changed everything. There's no way this man would dare to forget your anniversary. He has it marked down on his calendar, set as an alarm on his phone, AND made sure Maru noted it on the clinic schedule.

But sadly, there's a stressful medical emergency that keeps him away from you on your anniversary. You might think he forgot when he didn't respond to your calls earlier that day. But nope-he just got distracted with work. And according to him, it's equally terrible mainly because he had been hinting for weeks he was going to take the day off for you. And of course that morning he had to take someone into emergency surgery (damn mines!).

As soon as he's out of surgery, he checks his phone to see all your missed calls and texts. He dials your number without checking your voicemail or messages to apologize but when you don't answer he thinks your silence means you want to break up (you don't but it's been a long time since he's been involved with anyone and he's a worrier so he thinks the worst thing).

He changes out of his messy scrubs into something more appropriate and heads to your farm. He's still dialing your number (he's not texting-he doesn't trust the tone in those messages won't get lost) as he rushes to your house. When he sees your lights are on he runs up the stairs and quickly knocks. He apologizes profusely even when you haven't opened the door right away. He doesn't let you get in a word as he explains he was stuck in surgery and he couldn't reach you.

When you see he's still wearing his surgical cap (he forgot to take it off), you realize he's telling the truth. Your anger begins to subside but when he tells you he's going to make it up by taking the next day off (not sure how but he'll get someone in the town next door to help), it's nearly gone.

Sam

Sam would be the bachelor to forget your anniversary. It's not that he doesn't care. It's just that he's never been in a relationship this serious until you came along. He doesn't understand the significance of dates yet. It's just another day, right?

You came over to his house after you finished your chores like always, but this time you have special gifts for him (a set of custom guitar picks, and maple bars you made the night before). When he sees what you brought him he's psyched and thankful but doesn't know why you have so much stuff with you. When you remind him it's your anniversary he (nervously) laughs. But when he sees your reaction his smile is gone. He doesn't go after you when you abruptly leave because he's embarrassed.

When Jodi hears you leaving, she goes to check on Sam and he tells her what happened. Clearly disappointed, she enforces how important anniversaries are (and that she likes you too much to see you hurt by his immaturity) and insists he makes it up to you. He knows he already messed up, but now he just screwed himself over more by laughing. He texts later that day but other than that you don't hear from him (making you even more angry/upset).

Later that evening he comes by the farm, arriving at your door in a white button-down and khakis with his spiky hair brushed out (Jodi told him to dress like this). His apology sounds like a script at first (again, Jodi influenced him), but when he tells you that this is all new to him you realize that he's willing to learn from his mistakes.

He then invites you for a walk which ends up being a quick trip up the steps to the mountains. Once you're on the landing, you see he set up a blanket with fairy lights around neighboring trees with his guitar lying next to a bouquet of flowers (you recognize the flowers are from Mayor Lewis's house but you ignore it because you hate Lewis anyway). He then guides you to sit on the blanket before he joins you, saying he started to write a song for you weeks after you started dating. And while it's still not finished he wants to sing it to you that night. You're still mad/hurt but recognize he's trying.

(no seriously I cooked here)

Sebastian

Sebastian is another bachelor who would most likely lose track of time and forget your anniversary. Programming takes A LOT of time and deadlines are always looming. This time he's taken on a huge 2-week job that could set him up for a future full-time role. It also doesn't help that he still hasn't figured out what to do for your anniversary so this gig is a great distraction (seriously, he's been trying to think of something for weeks but nothing seems right).

You come by his house that morning and Robin greets you saying Sebby is locked in his room working on "something." You let yourself into his room like always but he doesn't move when you come in. You try to get his attention but he's hyper-fixated on his work, headphones on, and eyes glued to his monitor. You've never seen him like this, and it takes him a bit to notice you. He gives a quick hi and says while he wants to talk he needs to finish before 5PM that day. He's in the zone that even the disappointed look on your face doesn't affect him. He doesn't see you leaving his room or that you slammed his door so hard it shook the walls.

He finishes his work before deadline and heads to his kitchen but is stopped by Robin asking if he spoke to you earlier. He's still feeling the aftermath of work so he's still in work mode, not understanding what she meant. He finally checks his phone and sees in his reminders that above the 5PM deadline alarm is the note of your anniversary. OH SHIT!

He calls you, grateful that you picked up the phone, and apologizes like crazy. Noticing the tone in your voice is hostile, he asks if he could come over and you reluctantly agree. He shows up at your house on his motorcycle 10 minutes later and asks you to join him on a ride. You're not in the mood but he apologizes again and insists you get on. It takes a bit of convincing but you jump on.

He takes you to the cliff overlooking Zuzu City, the same place he brought you when your relationship was fresh. He's upfront when he tells you he was trying to figure out what to do for you for today but he was stumped in what to get you. He admits that he was so into this latest job because if he did well he might be offered a full-time job with the company, thus being a better supporter for you (he knows you don't need his support like that but he still wants to give it).

He reassures you that he loves you and will never forget your anniversary again. And just like the first time he took you up there, you let him kiss you forgiving him.

(damn I cooked here too)

Shane

This man will go through so many emotions in 2 hours if he forgets your anniversary. It all starts in the evening when Marnie sees him at the ranch (Lewis was coming over soon and Shane's cockblocking her plans). She mentioned that she spoke to you earlier in the day and thought he would be over on your farm. He's confused, but when she tells him you told her what day it is his face goes blank. His self-esteem takes a major hit.

You went out of your way to be nice when you first moved to town, continued to pursue a friendship despite him being rude to you, helped him during his darkest moments, accepted him flaws and all, asked him to be your boyfriend (he still can't believe that happened a year later BTW), and he couldn't even bother to remember your anniversary.

He didn't even pick up on your cues earlier in the day when you texted him. In his defense, you didn't mention you two's anniversary but he's kicking himself for not remembering on his own.

Seriously, why are you with him???

He calls you and worries when you don't pick up right away. He sends a text and calls again, relieved you take his second call. He doesn't have to hear your voice to know he's in trouble. He says sorry a dozen times in 1 minute, apologizing for his memory lapse. You keep your replies short before saying you're going to bed and you'll call him in the morning. He shudders when you hang up on him. Yep, he fucked up. And he needs to make it up to you TONIGHT.

Desperate, he asks Marnie to ask Lewis, or more threatens to out them to the town, to borrow his truck for the night. Yes, he's willing to strain that relationship if it means to get back on your good side. About a half hour later, he's on your farm in Lewi's truck. You're not asleep when he honks the horn, so you're outside in a few seconds to see what's going on.

Shane jumps out of the truck saying he's so sorry for forgetting about today, and is willing to drive you anywhere you want to go that night to make it up to you. You're more concerned about how he got Lewis's truck over his apology though. When he tells you what he did, all your anger/sadness is replaced with laughter. The fact that this man's willing to blackmail the mayor and his aunt is enough to make it up to you makes your sides hurt.

You smile and go back into your house to get your stuff. You remind yourself that your boyfriend is the same man who mailed frozen pizza and pepper poppers but he still tried. Not sure if you're now an accomplice but at least you have a funny story to tell.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not sure if you've answered something like this before, but how do I write "prettier" sentences? I know one thing that will help would be expanding my vocabulary, but a thesaurus only seems to get me so far. I feel like when I write, especially when I'm describing things, my sentences are so basic. Idk if this makes sense, if it doesn't I can try and find examples from other writers to help describe what I'm talking about!

How to Write "Prettier" Sentences

Pretty prose is something many writers aspire to, however, it's not as easy to achieve as looking up words in a thesaurus. It's something you have to train yourself to do through both learning and practice.

Learn By Reading/Listening

First and foremost, making sure you're reading/listening to a variety of books and stories is essential if you want to learn how to craft prettier prose. Reading and listening to stories helps train your brain to: recognize the cadence of pretty prose, understand the structuring of pretty prose, understand how to craft meaningful imagery, and fills your head with vocabulary.

Expanding Your Vocabulary

Vocabulary is also an important component of crafting pretty prose. Following web sites, pages, and apps that have a "word of the day" (like the Merriam-Webster website) is a great way to learn new words. You can also purchase a word-of-the-day desk calendar for 2024. Some writers like to flip open the thesaurus every day on a random page and read a few random words. You can also read creative articles in newspapers, magazines, websites, etc. to learn new words. You can also look up the specific vocabulary for something you're describing, like if you're describing a house, you can look up the architectural style and general architectural terms to learn how to describe specific things like the style of home, the trim, the windows, etc. Finally, in addition to the thesaurus as a source of new words, you can add other word references to your collection, such as The Describer's Dictionary, the Random House Word Menu, The Writer's Lexicon, etc.

Learning Poetic Cadence and Imagery

Listening to music/reading song lyrics, and reading/listening to poetry are great ways to teach your brain how to craft descriptive imagery. Poetry has to say a lot with few words, so it helps you understand the power of using just the right words in just the right way.

Effective Description is Important

Effective description is of course another piece of the puzzle. Not all writing is description, but a lot of pretty prose is descriptive. So, when you're describing things in your story, make sure to consider the senses--what can be seen, heard, tasted, smelled, felt/touched? You don't want to incorporate all of that into the description of one thing, obviously, but if your character is walking into a forest, considering all of those things can help you come up with a vivid, beautiful description. Sometimes, looking for photos or videos of the thing you want to describe can be helpful, too.

Practice Makes Perfect

And last but not least: practice. Once you've started to train your brain using the methods above, when you go through a draft to revise it and come to a sentence that needs sprucing up, try out different things that you've learned. Don't go overboard with the thesaurus, but perhaps your sentence describes twinkling stars... is there another word you could use instead of twinkling that's more surprising and vivid? The thesaurus suggests: glimmering, shimmering, sparkling, blinking... cross-checking each of these in the dictionary shows they're all appropriate choices for describing the twinkle of a star. You can also read the sentence out loud to listen to the cadence... are there longer or shorter (yet appropriate) words you can use instead to make the sentence more lyrical? Improving your sentences in editing helps you learn to craft pretty sentences as you're writing them the first time.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[heretyc]

would you consider maybe writing something when the female reader is having their stawberry week maybe with barbi val eddie jeremy and richard maybe?^^like what they would do?

Lol awww strawberry week! I'm out here calling it my shark week lmfao. The names we have for menstrual cycles, y'all...creativity at its finest. Tempting a vampire, Carrie at prom...I need more names to add to my list.

Jeremy -

"...Your period?" He raised a brow, putting his phone to his shoulder; the chat he was having didn't matter all that much, so his attention was on you. "...Okay, and what did you want me to do about it?"

"Uhh...I need pads. Tampons. Food. Stuff like that."

"...Ah," he hummed, and pulled open a drawer at his desk. For some reason, the fool had a desk full of money that's for you and you only. Folded stacks of hundreds, twenties and fifties were organized so perfectly, and the drawer's amount surely added to a couple thousand. "Twenties, right?"

"Yeah." You pursed your lips, and took the stack of twenties, "There's 300 there," Jeremy stated without much care, "go fucking nuts, princess. Anyway, what were you saying, Trag?"

Richard -

"It's your cycle."

Richard stood there, arms full of things; a bag of gas station sweets and sodas alongside some chips, a baggie of weed, your favourite period products annnnnd...Tylenol. What a doll.

"And how did you know?"

"Tracked it," he walked inside of his office, "I have a calendar."

"Yeah, Trag. Because that totally isn't creepy."

"Shaddup and eat your Funyuns."

A silence swept over you two, a comfortable one, as you looked at the stuff in the bag. He spoke again, however, "...Tampons go in you, right?"

"How do you not know this shit? You're a doctor."

"Not THAT kind of doctor."

"How the fuck did you get a PHD, Trag?" You scoffed, offering a bag of peach rings. He took them with a hum, "Charisma and money, hun."

Eddie -

"I wasn't sure what to get, darling," Eddie murmured with a sigh, "but I asked around."

On your shared bed was...several kinds of chocolates. And flowers. And ice cream. And...what the fuck, were those condoms?

"Sex assists with clots, dear," Eddie winked at you suggestively, "That doctor fellow told me."

Of course he did.

Val -

Surprisingly, Val was not in their usual, muddy attire; instead they stood before you in their cassock, their blonde locks shining under the moonlight. Their eyes were narrowed as they walked up to you, unsure.

"I smell...essence," they hummed to themselves, "pure...essence. You're bleeding."

"Indeed I am," you rolled your eyes, "is that a fucking a problem?"

Val just snickered, thin arms wrapping around you, "Ah, PMS. I've heard of this."

"I can only imagine the mines when your female heretics are on their monthly."

Val pursed their lips, "...Best not to peruse, my love."

Barbi -

"...I know that smell." Barbi pulled you out of your hiding spot, his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted, "You're bleedin'."

"...Yeah." You huffed, "I am. It's my monthly."

"...Oh." Barbi snickered, "Is there, uh...a way I could help?"

You looked around, noting the docks. You smirked at him, "There's beds in the ship, right?"

"Mhm."

"...Masturbation and sex does help get rid of clots..."

"Say no more."

Only after your session did you ask for chocolate. And cuddles. And he did not deny you.

[litfeathers]

Before Hunter's Palisman Observations... Before Lilith's Letter... Before Luz's Diary Entry...

A witch's quill scratches on paper, her eyebrows furrowing in thought as she fills a well-worn book with her thoughts and desires and fears.

She smiles at the yellow bird who is fast asleep on her extra pillow, and with a snap of her fingers extinguishes the light spells that had been illuminating her cozy bedroom.

She sleeps.

She dreams…

She dreams of a strange world. A world without magic. A harsh world of rules, and penance, and fear.

A man stands in front of a bonfire, the glow of the firelight dancing on his wild blond hair. He is surrounded by a screaming crowd, torches and pitchforks and fists waving in the air.

"No," she begs. "No, no, no, no."

She calls his name over the cacophony of violent chanting, her voice muffled by the roar of the growing conflagration.

He turns.

She screams.

Blood. Smoke. Fire. The flash of a knife. It all happens too fast.

He is gone.

...and she wakes up.

Welcome to Evelyn's Journal.

Credits: -The phenomenal cover art was drawn by the absolute legend @bananadramaaa. Thank you so much for your help! -The script and Evelyn's voice were written and recorded by Birdie (that's me!) -It's probably pretty obvious, but this project was directly inspired by the audio recordings a few of TOH's VAs did for one of Dana's charity livestreams. Look them up if you have never heard them. They are fantastic!

The audio and script will also be available at AO3 on (or some time after) Sunday, March 26th. You may find it at litfeathers if you would like to give this project some love over there too!

The complete script can be found under the read more, so you may follow along if you wish.

Grab a snack and get comfy. We have an almost 15 minute runtime! Enjoy! 🔥🪶

Scaburary 10th

I had to cover for Bileadona at work. She never showed up for her shift, and so Goldie and I were forced to make an unexpected trip to Bonesborough.

Extra disappointing, since I was planning to spend the afternoon in the garden with my sketchbook. I wanted to redo my blue jay drawing, as I am not quite satisfied with it.

Ah, well. I’ll draw in the garden tomorrow.

Scaburary 11th

UUUGHHH DAMN RAIN!

Goldie has been moping and staring out the window at the sizzling forest all morning, desperately wishing she could have her early morning flight through the trees. I have given her a handful of seeds to help her feel better. She seems pouty still, but has cheered up slightly. She is currently ordering the seeds from most to least appealing. Heh. This should take her a while.

Only two days are left!

Scaburary 13th

Work, work, work. I couldn’t stop watching the sunlight and shadows slowly move across the library floor and sighing impatiently. Bileadona happened by my cart as I was shelving books, and asked why the calendar at my desk is so strange. I told her it was an old-fashioned solar calendar from the bloodievil period. She didn’t seem to buy it, but didn’t push the subject.

I also made a quick…detour before I went home. Just to say hello to some dear friends. Some very special friends who are going to severely regret their actions from last week.

*evil witch cackle*

As an added bonus, I finally managed to nab one of their…creative drawings of me. It is now proudly displayed on my living room wall, just above the couch. Truly, it is a work of art, and I am humbled by their kindness.

I just hope they find my return offering just as humbling ehehehehe.

I have been getting more and more excited for every visit to the Human Realm. Not that I have been there recently. I most definitely have not. Don’t be absurd.

But anyway. This week has dragged endlessly! I cannot wait for tomorrow.

It’s nice to have a friend.

Scaburary 14th, Human Realm year 1623

Today was nice.

It was a Friday in Human reckoning, so Caleb and I enjoyed the usual supper on a blanket in the snowy woods. I made sure to include dragon bacon sandwiches and deviled griffin stew in the spread, as they are his favorites. And of course, a thermos of hot apple blood to warm us up. It was a marvelous feast!

He looks a bit better lately. His skin is less pale, and the shadows under his eyes are less prominent.

The moment I landed at at our spot, Caleb immediately asked me if I had anything to do with the recent vandalism of the Gravesfield meetinghouse. I plead innocent. He grimly informed me that someone had scribbled all over the siding, and that one of the drawings bore a striking resemblance to Goldie. I expressed my deepest sympathies for the poor soul who would have to clean it up. He further informed me that the words “Evie was here” were scrawled over the front door. I told him that since my given name isn’t Evie, it’s Evelyn, he was clearly looking for another culprit. He grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me dead in the eye, and told me, in the most fed-up of tones, that the drawings could move.

“Huh,” I said. “In that case, it sounds like you might have a witch on your hands. I hear they are pretty tricky to deal with, but seeing as you are such an expert witch hunter, you surely won’t have a problem rooting her out!”

At that he made such a ridiculously frustrated face, I could no longer hold in my laughter. It was the look he gets where his cheeks flush and his nose flares. The red even reached his ears this time! Fantastic.

He gave up at that point. He just sighed deeply and shook his head. But I could tell he was desperately trying to hold back a smile.

While we enjoyed our meal, we got on the topic of weather. After my previous deception, he didn’t quite believe me when I told him that rain boils in the Demon Realm. When I cast an illusion to show him a typical Boiling Isles thunderstorm, his eyes lit up brighter than the sun. As fun as it is to tease and banter with him, I think I vastly prefer those quiet moments between us. When the storm clouds lift from his eyes.

*trails off*

I can tell he’s lonely.

Last week, while we were on our owl watch, he mentioned offhandedly that he hasn’t received a proper hug in years.

I was about to feign ignorance and pretend to not know what a hug is, until I realized that…err. Well, we are two galdorpeas in a pod in that regard, aren’t we?

And no, I did not offer myself up. Because some walls are built for a reason.

Caleb is surrounded by pitchforks and torches and prying eyes.

His village is dangerous.

His brother has been asking more and more…questions.

I know I shouldn’t keep doing this. I know I can’t keep doing this. There is a line, and I am terrified that I am gleefully dancing towards it, and one day I am going to be unable to stop myself from crossing into something…

*deep sigh*

…something I cannot come back from.

I am unwilling to admit this anywhere but here. And this is difficult to write, even if my eyes are the only ones that will ever read it. But…

He scares me.

Hah! How silly is that? We’re the closest of friends. I am a powerful adult witch. And I am scared of him?

It makes no sense. Witch hunter my butt! I trust him completely. He is kind. Sweet, even. No matter how much sass and grumpiness he sprinkles into his words, it is abundantly clear that his heart is made of pure gold. His smile could melt snow. His soft words could tame the wildest slitherbeast. His laugh is pure music.

*embarrassed cough*

So, then. Why the fear? Why have I been finding myself so on edge around him lately? It’s incredibly frustrating.

Words are difficult to get out. My pulse quickens when he sits too close. I can no longer look him in the eye without my face heating up. What else could cause this but fear? It is clearly my body warning me that what I am doing is incredibly foolish.

Or perhaps it’s just the apple blood.

*sighs in frustration, then there is a long moment of silence*

No. I’m not that naive. I know it’s not the apple blood. It’s just that…I’m…

I’m not ready.

I don’t have much more I would like to say on this topic, so I suppose I shall end this entry and tuck myself into bed with a good book. Perhaps Goldie would like for me to read her another story.

Here’s hoping for some nice dreams. Titan willing.

Goodnight.

Scaburary 15th

I had the day off from work. I tried to draw in the garden, but my redo of the blue jay sketch came out even worse than the original. I ended up spending most of my day on the couch, half paying attention to a book I could barely focus on enough to read.

I had dreams last night. Dreams I absolutely refuse to relive by writing them down.

Please. Please, please, please let tonight be better.

Scaburary 16th

Oh, Titan. I hate this.

I have made a decision. A decision I am absolutely miserable to be making.

It’s something I can absolutely not back out on. Something I should have done ages ago.

Something I should have done before I got…attached.

No matter what, this will end in pain. But it must end. Before he is harmed. Or worse. I know what I must do. But it hurts. I have to protect him. This week will be rough. Please wish me luck and courage.

Scaburary 17th My chest hurts. My eyes are sore. Everyone has been giving me space at work. I am sure they can tell something is very wrong, but no one has pried. At least I managed to keep it together until I was halfway home. Be proud of my fortitude.

After I was done being sorry for myself, I got an idea. I am unsure if I will be able to follow through with my plan. But if I can find my courage, perhaps I can at least try.

When we say our goodbyes, I can at least ensure Caleb still has a friend.

I haven’t carved a palisman in years. Not since I made Goldie with Mother and Father. And not since they…

*chokes up for a second*

I don’t even know if I remember how. But there is a grove of healthy palistrom trees in the backyard. And I still have my knife.

I even know what he would want.

Fine. Tomorrow I will start carving.

Scaburary 18th I opened my journal to write, but I have nothing substantial to say. This week has been miserable. I wish it were Friday so I could get this over with. Goldie keeps offering me seeds to cheer me up. I’m sorry, Goldie. I appreciate the gesture, but not everything can be fixed with a tasty seed.

Scaburary 19th I sent Goldie to deliver my final rebus message. I got such an excited response back, I nearly lost it again. He has heard a saw-whet owl in the woods by the fields. He wants to take me out there to listen for it. Sounds lovely. I suppose it’s nice to look forward to one last owl watch. What should I do with the remaining Titan’s blood? Dispose of it? Donate it to a researcher? All I know is that I cannot keep the vials. Lest I be…tempted. I’ll miss the birds. Caleb’s gift is drying on the kitchen table. I wonder what wish he will make.

Scaburary 20th I am surprisingly calm. There is something to be said for allowing yourself to…feel. To let your emotions exist, acknowledge them, let them out. That isn’t typically how I operate, but perhaps it can be advantageous to…sometimes…occasionally…not bury everything? As much as I hate to admit it. I was even able to laugh at Goldie’s antics. She brought home a rattle worm and pretended to feed it to our new scarlet friend. She even feigned offense when he refused her gift by remaining silent and wooden. Silly bird! I don’t know what I would ever do without her. I think I will be fine. Once the dust settles. We will all be fine.

Scaburary 22nd I do not know where to start. It is late evening. I am sitting here in bed, journal in lap, as usual. But Goldie is perched on my shoulder instead of her usual spot on my extra pillow. Because my extra pillow is occupied. It is occupied by a blond human and a small red bird. Oh. He just reached out in his sleep to hug my waist. I suppose I’m trapped now. I’ve never been so happy. I’ve never been so happy, and yet so anxious? I can’t stop smiling. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling or swooning or giggling since last night! How embarrassing. How completely and utterly embarrassing! ...Goldie, I know you are reading this. I can hear you laughing! Quit it! I think I’m still in a bit of shock-GOLDIE THIS IS PRIVATE. I haven’t quite processed any of this-I KNOW YOU CAN FEEL MY EMOTIONS AND HEAR MY THOUGHTS! I DON’T CARE! YOU’RE STILL BEING NOSY. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE WERE BOTH SO OBVIOUS? I SAID STOP LAUGHING!!! Fine. You were right. Is that what you wished to hear? Are you happy now, you smug little feather brain? Good. Anyway. Where was I? Everything happened so…fast. The last 24 hours have been absolutely wild. And terrifying. And…intense. But I think I can finally admit something important, even if it’s only here for now. Let’s see if I can manage to actually write it. Goodness, my hand is shaking. Alright. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Here goes… *swoons a little* I’m in love. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams. *snaps fingers, and light spells are extinguished* Sung: You are not alone No matter how far you have flown Together we feel we’re at home In darkness light shines in your bones *As she hums the song fades out*

[spiderman2-99]

Here it is.

December 16th, 2099.

The day the leader of the Spider Society has been dreading ever since it popped up on his calendar. A looming spectre over his work. As inevitable and ever-present as mortality itself.

His day off.

No, seriously, he hates it. Especially now that he’s been given more of them in the wake of… 1610. (God, is it really delegated to a footnote now?)

Being aimless for a whole 24 hours, nothing to distract himself with— especially now that LYLA’s blocked any sort of paperwork that could come in— is legitimately close to a personal hell.

… okay, he’s being melodramatic.

Still. An itch thrums beneath Miguel’s skin to do- something. Anything. It’s not the productive kind— though he’s deep-cleaned his apartment twice over by 17:28 precisely. Nor is it the creative kind, or else the mere thought of having to sit down with his own hyperactive mind and force the spirals into some kind of direction wouldn’t leave him already weary before he starts.

No.

It’s a full-body urge to escape his own skin and mind; an understimulation that could only be rivaled by a bear in a concrete cage.

(Maybe that’s what he is.)

Downright potent when combined with lingering guilt that clings to him like dust on old furniture. The kind that only comes with living a life of constantly washing filth off his hands. Filth that’ll never come off.

There’s ways of dealing with it, of course; as much as sticking a band-aid on a hemorrhage is “dealing with it”. But he doesn’t quite have enough gumption to portal himself into the only gym that could support his strength— God knows what kind of ribbing he’d get— nor does the weather support those long, winding runs he’d take until he’d felt on the verge of passing out.

Times like this, Miguel almost wishes he were just Nueva York’s vigilante again. But no, he’s moved the stakes higher, and with them go his priorities.

… and of course, there’s liquid ways of dealing with it too.

Liquid ways that he’s been trying to cut back on lately. Got rid of the bottle and shot glasses hidden beneath his office desk and everything.

But here? In his apartment that he spends so little time at that it never really reflects his life choices anymore?

…

No.

No, no no no, no, absolutely not, you spineless imbecile.

It’s been, what, a week? And he’s already-

But what would just a little bit hurt? To take off the edge? The constant feeling of unease and too much, too loud, all at once? No.

Miguel made a plan, and he’s sticking with it, for shock’s sake. The hell kind of a man is he, folding so quickly just because he can’t escape his own stupid, ever-abusive mind? Besides. There’s… other things he could…

Probably….

Find to do…

Somewhere…

…

..

.

Al diablo con eso. He doesn’t deserve that.

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

The Favorite Side

Summary: Roman just wanted to celebrate his birthday but...of course, because of Logan's impromptu photoshoot, he's left to celebrate alone. After all, it's not like he's anyone's favorite side...right?

AO3 Link

Pairings: None, BROTHERLY Creativitwins

WARNINGS: FOOD MENTIONS, REMUS BEING REMUS, LIGHT ANGST

(A/N: Roman just wanted to celebrate his birthday but...of course, because of Logan's impromptu photoshoot, he's left to celebrate alone. After all, it's not like he's anyone's favorite side...right?)

taglist: @part-time-zombie @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @enigmasalad

Roman sighs, watching from the banister as he peered around the wall. Today was Logan’s photoshoot for his new skirt look. Thomas had the idea of getting Logan all dressed up once again. Once Logan was told about it, he seemed happy and even flattered to help Thomas do another photoshoot. Of course, that called for some creative touch, and they called Roman in.

            Roman was happy to help and asked when they were going to do the photoshoot. His heart then sank when they told him the date. His birthday. He tried to get them to change it without throwing a tantrum, but they seemed to have forgotten how important that day was. So, Roman spent the whole day of his birthday listening to everyone fawn over Logan and praise him. He couldn’t do anything but hide his own pain because Thomas forbid, he threw a fit or got upset as his special day was overshadowed by the favorite side.

            Now, the prince himself watched from up the stairs as Patton, Janus and Virgil gathered around Logan. Remus was nowhere to be found, having been gone all day. The photoshoot had ended hours ago and Roman had made up some excuse that he had things to attend to inside the Imagination but really, he didn’t want to listen to them anymore. Yet, he was still here and watching in envy. It just wasn’t fair. Why did Logan get all that attention? Why does he get to dress up when it’s not even his special day? What does he have to do to have that for himself? Roman sighs, feeling so small now. Logan always was better than him. He was smarter and quick to understand things he didn’t. He was organized and focused. He was everything Roman wasn’t.

It hurt even more, knowing that the fans loved Logan even more than him. Roman was just the annoying, loud, and arrogant prince that no one liked because he was mean to his friends. Maybe he deserved nothing today. Sighing once again, Roman decides to let Logan have this. After all, Logan deserves the spotlight more. He had shoved the logical side towards the backstage one too many times. So, as everyone rains more praises on Logan, the princely side quietly slips away before anyone could notice him.

As soon as he closed the door to his bedroom, Roman felt his legs tremble and he moved to sit at his desk. He glances at the calendar tacked to his corkboard, sniffling as he sees his birthday marked a with big gold, glittery circle. He then picks up a red marker and crosses it out multiple times. Roman then tosses the marker aside and huffs. It looks like he’s going to celebrate alone this year. With the wave of his hand, Roman summons a red velvet cupcake with a little candle.

 “Happy birthday to me…”

            Roman then blows out the candle and watches the smoke swirl into the air. He then buries his head in his arms, sniffling again. He’s trying so hard not to cry but he can’t help it. It was supposed to be HIS day. Not Logan’s or anyone else’s. The tears drip onto his desk as he breaks down. While everyone was celebrating Logan downstairs, they’ve truly forgotten their prince who had hidden away. Their prince who was left to be alone on his special day. At least that’s what Roman thought. Who would want to still celebrate his birthday after all his failures?

“Hey, Prince Poopy!”

Great.

Roman sniffs, not bothering to look up or dry his tears.

“What do you want? Don’t you have some kind of chaos to cause elsewhere?”

“Not for another few days at least!” Remus replies, slipping out from under Roman’s bed. “What’s got your dick twisted?”

“First, eww. Second, nothing. It’s dumb.” Roman then sighs. “I’m just…having another bad day, Ree.”

Remus frowns as Roman buries his head in his arms, spotting the cupcake nearby and stealing it.

“Ro…”

“Drop it, Remus. I don’t want to talk about it. Why don’t you bother Janus or…or Logan?”

“Well, Jan is busy making out with his wine glass and I didn’t wanna be downstairs with the other light dorks.” he says as takes a bite of the cupcake with the wrapper still on. “They’re busy playing dress up with the skirts again.”

Roman sighs and sniffs, tears falling again. It’s silly to be crying over a missed birthday but it was the one day where he didn’t have to feel guilty for getting special treatment. Where he could enjoy affection without needing to seek it or beg for it. Where he could pretend for just a moment that he was loved by them all. It was the one day that Roman could be surrounded by love but instead, Logan stole that from him. Logan had everyone else’s attention and praise. And he deserved it.

            Remus could only watch on as Roman fell apart. He frowns and stands up, finishing the cupcake before looking at Roman. He really looks upset today. Remus then glances at the calendar. It’s filled with important dates and deadlines as well as reminders. The intrusive side then notices that today’s date was crudely crossed out. Oh.

“So, you’re just gonna mope all day on your birthday, moody booty?” Remus asks a moment later.

Roman looks up at Remus with wide, watery eyes.

“You…You remembered my birthday?” he whispers, surprisingly hopeful for Remus.

“Of course I did, dumbass. Why would I forget my own twin’s birthday? We share it.” Remus answers, feeling an ache in his chest.

“B-But you have your own birthday day. You don’t have to celebrate with me…”

Remus sighs.

“Okay, Pissy, look. I only agreed to have my own birthday day so you can have yours too. I know you like having your moments.” he explains before averting his gaze. “But it’s kinda boring to celebrate alone sometimes. Sure, it’s fun with Janus but not as fun without you.”

Roman rubs his tears away, gaping at Remus.

“Remus…” he lunges at him and tackles him into a hug. “Thank you...for remembering. I’m sorry I let you celebrate alone but I’m here now. M-Maybe we can celebrate together?”

Remus blinks this time and pulls back to look Roman in the eyes.

“Really? I thought you were going to celebrate with the others again.” he replies, a bit surprised.

“No.” Roman’s face falls, sighing. “They…They’re busy talking about Logan’s photoshoot and fawning over him. Not even Thomas remembered. I deserve it though.”

            Remus is frozen for a moment. Oh, hell no. No, they did not. That’s why his brother was so upset. Those bastards. The dark Duke holds back a growl and huffs instead. If they wanted to exclude his twin like that and make his special day all about someone else, then so be it. They don’t deserve Roman if they’re going to treat him like that. Remus doesn’t show it on the outside often, but he does care about his brother. So, the dark creative side grins.

“You know what, Ro? We don’t need them to celebrate. You and I are going to have our own party here.” Remus proposes, patting his twin’s shoulder.

“But-“

“You deserve it, Ro. You deserve to throw your own damn party.”

Roman finally smiles at that, rubbing his tears away.

“Okay. As long as you’re here, Ree.”

Remus grins.

“Always! Now, you get yourself all princely and pretty. I’m gonna raid the kitchen for food and snacks.”

            Roman giggles and Remus feels the ache in his chest ebb way. Good. If the others were just going to hurt his brother, Remus will just have to make sure to cheer him up and give him a damn good birthday. He leaves his brother to get ready and ambles downstairs. Much to his annoyance, the others are still fawning over Logan. Gross. Wrinkling his nose, Remus sneaks over to the kitchen as he listens in on their chatting. It’s free juicy gossip for him.

“I just refreshed the page, L. Everyone’s loving your new look.” comes Virgil’s voice.

Fucking traitor.

“O-Oh. I’m not used to all that attention. I wish I could thank them all.” Logan follows, sounding flustered.

“You’ve had quite the day, Logan. We’ll let Thomas handle that.” Janus replies.

Patton’s giggles follow.

“Speaking of Thomas, he wanted to know if we had any other important things going on this week.”

“Other than his current cabaret play? I believe there’s nothing else important for him to do.”

Janus hums.

“Are you sure? We’re not missing anything, are we?”

Virgil huffs as he cuts in.

“Shut up, Janus.” then to Logan. “Hey, don’t worry too much, L. That’s my job. Besides, we looked at your schedule earlier and nothing was missing.”

Logan sighs.

“You’re probably right.”

Remus growls lowly at what he hears and resists the urge to knock some heads together, turning towards the fridge. He starts rummaging through it, stealing the jar of crofters as revenge. He then summons a giant bag and steals a few things such as Patton’s icing and whipped cream, some leftover cookies, a bag of Doritos, some champagne that Roman likes and hides in the back of the fridge, and a jar of pickles. Huffing, Remus then hefts the bag over his shoulder and makes his leave, waiting for someone to-

“And where are you going, you little shit?”

Of course, Virgil is the one who caught him.

“Why do you care, emo? I thought you were busy with whale dork over there.”

“Because you’re sneaking out of the kitchen with a huge bag. You’re not stealing the silverware again, are you?”

Remus rolls his eyes.

“I’ve got better shit to do then steal silverware.”

Janus huffs a laugh.

“Off to collect body parts then?” he asks this time.

Remus giggles then grins widely as he drops the big news on them.

“I’m celebrating RoRo’s birthday with him!”

The dark duke then watches with glees as every single face in the room pales in horror. Wonderful. It’s so wonderful that it makes Remus cackle joyfully, doubling over as he does.

“W-Why are you laughing?!” Virgil huffs, trying to act as if he didn’t just realize how badly he fucked up.

Remus giggles again, catching his breath.

“Hoo…that was good. I’m laughing because, wow, you’re all a bunch of fucking idiots.” he grins.

“W-Well, we…we didn’t mean to forget Roman’s birthday! Honest!” Patton cuts in, trying to fix things like he always does.

Remus rolls his eyes.

“You meant it. You didn’t. Blah blah blah. Even so, you’ve already hurt him. You always do.” he huffs, staring Patton down.

Patton shrinks with a squeak and Logan takes that moment to cut in.

“Alright, Remus. We apologize for forgetting Roman’s birthday, but we really did not mean to. I hadn’t thought to include it because I got caught up in the photoshoot.” The logical side explains.

“Oh, fuck you, you brainy bitch! You were enjoying all the attention and the spotlight! Remus growls, glaring at Logan. “You whine and whine about being ignored but have no fucking problem pushing my own fucking brother aside!”

“Like you fucking care about him, Remus! You knocked him out once!” Virgil cuts in with a hiss.

“Yeah, but he knows I would never hurt him as bad as you all do. I don’t fucking lie to him. I don’t fucking think he’s annoying. I don’t put him down and make him feel fucking worthless like you all do.” Remus spits back. “I don’t fucking forget his birthday! Ever!”

“Remus, if you let us, we’ll celebrate Roman’s birthday now. We can prepare something.” Logan tries.

Remus laughs.

“It’s too late to celebrate. You spent all day shoving him aside. You think he’s going to accept a last minute, half-assed celebration?”

“Come on, kiddo, please? You can help too.” Patton pleads this time, desperate to make up for another mistake.

“No. You’ll make it up to him, let him believe you truly care, and then break him all over again. It’s an endless fucking cycle.”

“Then why do you get to celebrate?” Patton asks.

Remus growls, glaring at them all.

“Because I didn’t forget his birthday. I never have. And you know what? He never forgot mine.”

The room falls silent for a moment then

“Remus…we’re really sorry. Truly. Let us make it up to Roman. And to you.” he speaks, feeling just as guilty though he doesn’t show it.

Remus huffs.

“Shut up, Janus. I know he laughed at your name but he apologized. You haven’t apologized to him. You’ve been a total bitch All of you have. None of you get to apologize or throw a party right now until Roman feels better and says he ready.”

            The dark duke then looks around as everyone shifts under his gaze. They all share the same guilty look. Remus waits for any of them to say something more and huffs when no one speaks up. Fucking cowards. Remus glares one last time then continues on his way out with the stolen goods.

“By the way, if I hear any of you fucks at the door, I will rip your heads off.”

With that last threat, Remus heads up the stairs and returns to Roman’s room. As he enters through the door, the dark duke is greeted by Katy Perry singing her birthday song on Roman’s radio. This isn’t usually Remus’ kind of music but he lets it be for today, reminding himself that Roman needs this. Smiling to himself, Remus locks the door behind him and joins his brother.

“I got the shit, Ro!” Remus grins, putting the bag down on the floor.

“Please tell me it’s actually edible stuff and not some mold that you scraped of off the kitchen sink.” Roman chuckles, going over to see what his twin brought.

            Remus looks up and pauses for a moment. Roman had combed his messy hair and his face sparkled with makeup like it’s supposed to. Good. Remus would never admit it out loud, but he liked seeing his brother all sparkly rather than shining with tears on his face. Putting that thought aside, Remus opens the bag and it falls open, the snacks and other stolen goods tumbling to the floor in a pile.

“Ta-da! I said I would raid the fridge for us, dummy! Look!” Remus then picks up the jar of crofters and gives it to Roman.

It’s half empty already but there’s enough for Roman to enjoy.

Roman snickers.

“Did you steal Logan’s jar out of spite?”

“A little birthday bonus for the birthday prince.” Remus grins.

Roman giggles, pulling Remus into a bear hug. Remus happily hugs back.

“Thanks, Ree.”

“Of course!”

After a few moments, they break the hug and Remus looks around. It could look a little more party-like. Grinning, Remus waves his hand and the fallen fairy lights float up and wrap themselves around the canopy of Roman’s fancy bed, flickering back to life. Another wave of Remus’ hand makes some extra star thingies appear and they decorate the walls, glittering under the light. Remus also summons some gold, silver, red, and green balloons. Much better.

“Ooh, I like it, Ree.” Roman smiles, catching a ballon as it floats down into his hands.

“I thought you’d like some decorations.” Remus grins. “Now, we just need entertainment.”

Roman perks up.

“Ooh, I’ll handle it! You’ve already done so much, dear brother.” he grins, waving his hand.

            With a bit of creative magic, their food is set up like a picnic on the floor and is surrounded by soft pillows and blankets. Roman’s laptop is propped up on some books and a list of movies pop up on the screen. Another wave of Roman’s hand makes them both change into pajamas and the lights dim down. Sure, it’s no grand party that he usually has but this is good too. Roman’s glad Remus at least remembered.

“So, what movie should we watch?” Roman asks, sitting with Remus on the floor.

Remus picks up the jar of pickles.

“Dunno. I was gonna let you have the pick since it’s your birthday.

“It’s your birthday too, dummy.” Roman giggles. “Go ahead and pick!”

Remus sets the jar down as he blinks in surprise.

“Alright, fine.���

            After looking through Roman’s movie list, Remus ends up deciding on Shrek. Roman isn’t surprised and they start the movie. By the time the movie was half-way mark, half the snacks that Remus had stolen were eaten. Roman is happy, laying on his tummy while Remus laid out like a starfish as he used his brother’s back for a pillow. Roman feels lighter and happier, relieved that someone remembered him. That someone still cared for him.

            Remus feels happy too, seeing his brother happy. They both may argue and fight and insult each other but at the end of the day, they still need each other. They’re still brothers who can put their differences aside to celebrate their birthday together. Maybe Remus will do that often. It’s very rare that he and Roman have any down time together. Smiling, Remus glances at his brother who is currently shoveling the last spoonful of crofters in his mouth.

“Hey, Ro?”

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday.”

Roman grins and a faint glow surrounds him.

“Thank you, Remus.”              

[royal-chandler]

Got my writing mojo back after four years and just thought I'd share some WIPs to keep the spirit from sagging. *throws some kidfic into the void*

--

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” Bianca grumps, stomping into Henry’s office with her high ponytail of curls swinging behind her. 

“Bianca, Bianca, Bianca,” Henry says back, his own arpeggio.

“I’m so bored.” And with that statement, she collapses onto the loveseat that sits against the wall adjacent to his desk, flinging her arms out with all the exasperation a six year old can muster. Which is plenty. She laments, “And it won’t stop raining! I can’t even go outside now.”

Henry turns fully to her, putting aside his manuscript and the neon orange highlighter he’d be using for edits. “I’m sorry, kit. Is there anything else you’d like to do?”

“I wanted to play with Arturo but Papi said I’m not allowed to wake him up from his nap because he’ll be fussy and then Papi would get in trouble with you. Summer’s just a drag,” Bianca says, out of school for all of two and a half days. She stretches her words out like taffy, in perfect imitation of Alex. Despite his daughter’s pressing predicament, it smuggles a smile onto Henry’s face. He hides most of it behind his hand, leaning on his elbow as he considers her.

“Well, a fussy Arturo wouldn't be much fun, yeah?”

“I guess.”

Bianca continues to pout and truthfully it’s hardly a crisis, this case of the Mondays, but she plucks at Henry’s heartstrings even so. Then and there, he decides that he’ll be devoting his mid-morning to her. 

“I’m sure that we can think of something.”

“Like what?”

“A board game?” A headshake. “We could watch that new robot movie.” Another headshake. “Or we could paint with the new brushes that your gigi got for you?” After some internal debate, Bianca ultimately shakes her head in the negative.

She’s set to start day camp in a couple of weeks but Henry sees no harm in borrowing from the activities that had been listed on the calendar sent to the parents. The first thing he remembers is, “A scavenger hunt?”

This suggestion lights up Bianca’s face, her dark eyes going wide as she pops up in her seat. “To find hidden stuff?”

“Sort of,” Henry answers because he’s hidden nothing but he’s sure can figure out a creative workaround. “I’ll make a list of things to check off—”

“Chores?” Bianca wrinkles her freckled nose. 

“No chores,” Henry tells her solemnly. “I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” She asks. 

He holds his finger out for her and she hugs it with her own. 

“Perfect! We should start now, Daddy.”

So, Henry jots down items for her to complete, switching between highlighter colors and different pens to ornate the sheet of paper while Bianca, distractedly browsing the library and knickknacks, recounts her dream from the night before in which she had been bowling with pineapples. For pins, bowling balls, or friends, Henry doesn’t find out for another five or so winding and twisting minutes.

--

“A silly face? What does that even mean?” Bianca asks, baffled, looking down at her tasks and then up at Henry. “Where are we going to find that?”

“Well, darling, you have to use your imagination.”

“Hmm, a silly face, a silly face,” Bianca says, tapping at her chin. She walks around her room where they’ve come to retrieve her turquoise polaroid camera to take pictures as they go and scans their surroundings with investigative eyes. A range of teddy bears, her penguin, her unicorn, and Doc McStuffins don’t make the cut. Instead, curiously, she pauses at her vanity, making a noise of triumph. “I’ve got it.”

Henry expects her to make a goofy face in the mirror but instead she pushes away some of her scrunchies and headbands, picking up a mini plastic square with various glittering pink hues from her makeup set, also a gift from Ellen.

“Daddy, no moving, please,” Bianca chides him, the two of them perched on the edge of her bed. At his side, her knees dig into his lap and her tongue peaks out as she uses a brush on his cheek and and then on half of his nose. A small dust cloud of purple powder emerges from her flourishes. “I’m almost done. These polka dots are going to look really, really cool with the silver eyeshadow.”

“I’m sure you’re doing a fabulous job,” Henry says. 

“Definitely,” Bianca nods. “You’ll see soon. You have the silliest face ever.”

“Well thank you, Bianca.”

“You’re welcome!”

Bianca reaches for her camera when she’s finished, instructing him to smile and Henry contorts his expression into something ridiculous just to hear her windchime laugh. She grabs the photo the second it prints out and says, “We have to wait a minute.”

The grey of the polaroid vanishes slowly and the photo fills with colour. In it, Henry sees himself presented as somewhat of an art project. Where there aren’t purple circles, are soft triangles in the rosy pink tint that Bianca had dipped an applicator into. Heavy metallic silver covers his eyelids all the way up to the line of his brow and a messy bolt of hot pink glitter bisects his face from crown to chin, paints his lips.

“Do you like it?” Bianca asks, watching him closely.

“It’s absolutely brilliant, love,” Henry praises, pressing a careful kiss to the top of her head. He still manages to get a swatch of colour on her skin that he has to lightly rub off.

“We should go show Papi,” Bianca suggests, beaming with excitement and a tooth missing from the front. “He’s gonna lose it.”

Henry heaves a great sigh but she’s so bloody adorable he has little choice but to oblige. 

--

Henry gently reminds Bianca to knock on the closed door of Alex’s office and wait for his okay before they enter.

From the inside, Alex calls out, “What’s the secret password?”

Bianca answers back, “Kookaburra!”

“When did the password change?” Henry asks, cracking open the door. 

“Yesterday,” Bianca informs him before barreling in. 

“Hey, Binks,” Alex greets happily, behind his desk and computer. With a shit-eating grin, he adjusts his glasses and sing-songs—because some things never change, “Henry.”

“It’d be useless to tell you to ignore my new look?”

“Oh, you know it, hubby. What’s going on here?”

“We’re on a scavenger hunt,” Bianca says, making her way over to Alex and slipping under her father’s arm when he raises it, nestling into his side.

Laughing, Alex lightly tugs on a wayward curl of Bianca’s hair. “And you had to find a man with psychedelic measles?”

“Uh-uh, I had to find a silly face. What’s psychedelic?” Bianca wonders, always inquisitive. “And what are measles?”

[deathclassic]

ART TAG

I just want to see more art and creatives

-

Have you always been interested in creating art? Yes! I've been drawing for as long as I can remember

What's your favourite medium to use? If digital, what programs do you like? I really enjoy drawing traditionally, a lot of the time i sketch and then take a photo to finish it digitally on photoshop (that i pirated)

Do you create outside of fandom? Yes, I draw for myself a lot but I don't really share them

Share something you haven't finished and/or never got around to posting mickey eating vegemite toast which i sent to nosho and never posted here haha

Favourite piece you've made?

ive always liked my beer bottle and carton design

Draw your icon in a minute or less

An underrated piece you've made in your opinion

any of my stranger things fanart bc i dont have any stranger things mutuals <3

Do you do art in a professional setting? kinda? im a qualified graphic designer and im working on a logo for a boxing trainer now

A piece you don't like but did really well on social media

100% this one, dan posted it on his ig story and tagged me in it and used it as his header on twitter for a while too

Post an old piece and compare it to your most recent, what are the similarites?

still doing outfit challenges, still adding a splash of colour in the bg, colour, details and adding waves to hair! also the shading is similar on the stomachs

Have you ever collaborated with another artist/s? yes!! ive done a dan and phil poster with other phan artists, a calendar that @pseudophan organised years ago (i still have it) and some cool one on one stuff with other artists in various fandoms <3

What piece has the most notes? Are you surprised?

this series, very surprised tbh currently at 12k+ notes

Who/What is your favourite subject matter?

People/characters i love, i just love drawing people i enjoy watching ya know

Show us something not from fandom you've made

a modernised take on shakespeares 'Taming of the Shrew', the badge is currently on my battle vest

Where do you like to create? in my bedroom at my desk, i feel inspired in my art corner

Do you have a tag that you use to group your creations? Tell us so people can follow it

'm does art' is my art tag!

Give yourself a shoutout, where can we commission/buy/follow you for more pieces?

commissions - unavailable but will open in a month or so instagram redbubble

tagging: @doshiart @gallapiech @spookygingerr @konaiiro

@michellemisfit @heymrspatel @vintagelacerosette @ghoulish-art-tendencies

@sgtmickeyslaughter @creepkinginc @kiennilove @burninface

@darlingian @suzy-queued

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎THE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Four: A Pleasant Twist

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ What started as a plan for a quiet walk in the park quickly turned eventful when you bumped into Madame Dupont, who was heading out for groceries. Choosing to assist her instead, two occurrences you didn’t see coming saw the light of the day: A. Running into Seonghwa, and B. Receiving an offer from Madame Dupont to help with your upcoming casting.

a/n: did you guys see san’s fit for the dolce & gabbana fashion show... it had me weak he straight up looked like he came from a dystopian hunger games type beat magical fantasy gods and goddesses 100k wc fic like that’s choi san from district ATE

tags: @beabatiny

The atmosphere in Hongjoong’s office was a mix of modern chic and creative chaos. The walls, adorned with framed sketches and mood boards, exuded an air of inspiration and meticulous planning. The sleek glass desk was cluttered with fabric swatches, design drafts, and a laptop perpetually open to design software. Large windows let in natural light, illuminating the room and casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. Shelves lined with fashion magazines featuring either his designs or Hongjoong himself, awards in varying categories, and an array of art supplies hinted at the relentless creativity that filled the space.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the latest designs. Seonghwa stood across from him, tablet in hand, listing off upcoming tasks.

“We’re still months away from the fashion week, but it feels dangerously close,” Seonghwa noted, swiping through the digital calendar. “You’re still without your sketchbook, so we need backup designs just in case.”

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’s been making use of Seonghwa’s digital tablet to work on new designs, but it just doesn’t hit the same as sketching on the rough surface of a paper. Well, Seonghwa has been trying to convince him he only feels that way because drawing digitally is an entirely foreign experience to him, but he swears it’s more than that. You wouldn’t get it, is what he’d usually say. “I know. I’m working on new designs, but it’s hard to compensate for everything I had in that sketchbook. There’s so much detail and inspiration in those lost pages.”

“Well… maybe we should schedule extra brainstorming sessions with the team. It might help to get more input," Seonghwa suggested, his tone pragmatic. There’s only so much a single personal assistant could do, especially regarding important matters they’re short of time on, after all.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his desk thoughtfully. “Seems like a good plan. We can set up a few sessions next week. Also, I want to review the progress of our new recruits. We need fresh faces ready for the casting call.”

“Oh, speaking of recruits, have you thought about expanding our outreach programs?” Seonghwa continued, making notes on his tablet. “More workshops and seminars could attract new talent to the agency. It’s also a good way to give back to the community.”

“Yes, definitely. And I also want to collaborate with more local designers,” Hongjoong agreed, his voice gaining a note of enthusiasm. There were still a lot of things to sort out, but at least they’re no longer heading forward empty-handed, right? “It’s important to foster community connections and bring in diverse perspectives. We could host a local designer showcase leading up to the fashion week.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That sounds perfect. We should also consider revamping our social media strategy. More behind-the-scenes content, live Q&A sessions, stuff that really engages our audience. 90% of people spend more than half the average day on their phone, anyway, so it would be a good idea to improve our marketing strategies online.”

“Right,” Hongjoong replied, leaning forward and straightening his posture. “I’ve noticed our engagement has been a bit stagnant. Let’s brainstorm some fresh content ideas and maybe even a mini-documentary series about our design process.”

As they were continuing to talk endlessly about gaps they needed to fill in order to ensure the brand’s utmost and consistent success, a thought suddenly resurfaced in Seonghwa’s mind. “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but she said yes.”

Hongjoong looked puzzled, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Since when did you have a significant other?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes dramatically, not being able to distinguish whether A. Hongjoong was just trying to push his buttons, or B. His brain development had reversed throughout the night and thus, is now being outright dumb. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. “No, you stupid goon. I’m referring to the girl from Rue de la Paix.”

“Oh, alright. Wait—she said yes?” Hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise.

At that exact moment, Wooyoung entered the room with a dramatic flair. “Whoa, who said yes? Didn’t know you had it in you, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung teased. Just then, an empty folder came flying his way, nearly hitting him right at his face if it weren’t for his reflexes. “Hey, what was that for?”

“That’s for accomplishing the mission of being even more stupid than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa deadpanned, shrugging. “What are you doing here anyway, Wooyoung? I thought you had no activities scheduled for today.”

Wooyoung grinned and flopped onto the couch, stretching out comfortably. “Yeah, but Hongjoong’s office couch is comfortable and I’m experiencing back pain. Needed a place to relax.”

“And who told you you could just do that?”

“...My free will?”

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong, who didn’t even need to hear the words come out of his mouth. “No surprises at all. He does this all the time.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong always putting in his best efforts when it comes to avoiding Wooyoung during his work hours was now starting to make sense to Seonghwa. “No wonder you’re so sick of him,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I can hear both of you very well, you know?” Wooyoung quipped, scrolling through his phone without looking up. “Actually, nevermind. Knowing you two, you’re probably doing that on purpose.”

“Nice theory. Whatever,” Seonghwa dismissed, turning back to Hongjoong. “Anyway, what I meant by her saying yes is that she agreed to attend the casting. She didn’t say it directly, but she called me in the middle of the night to ask for further details. Plus, she replied to my message about wishing her luck and hoping she wouldn’t back out. So, I think it’s safe to assume she’s going to attend.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened with a mix of relief and curiosity. “That’s great news. I’m really curious to see what she brings to the table.”

“Who’ll bring what to the table?” Wooyoung interjected, finally looking up from his phone with genuine interest. “You both seem pretty invested in this person.”

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “A girl from Rue de la Paix that I scouted pretty recently. I believe she has great potential.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. If you’re both that excited, she must be something special,” he mused to himself before looking back down on his phone screen.

Hongjoong hummed in agreement before turning his attention back to the topic at hand. He adjusted the sleeves of his tailored blazer and leaned forward, glancing at the tablet Seonghwa held. “So, about the upcoming projects, I think we should focus more on integrating sustainable fabrics,” Hongjoong said, his tone serious and thoughtful. “It’s not just a trend; it’s a necessity for the future of fashion.”

Seonghwa nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. “Got it. We should reach out to more suppliers who specialize in eco-friendly materials. I’ll set up meetings with potential partners next week.”

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with inspiration. The endless days of working he always had to go through were indeed tiring, but the creative process throughout it all and everything that came out of it were always worth the progressively lessening hours of sleep on his behalf. “And for the designs, I want to blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics. Something that tells a story of heritage while being innovative.”

“That’s a great direction,” Seonghwa agreed, looking up from his notes. “We could also highlight these stories in our marketing campaigns. You know, show our audience the journey behind each piece.”

Before Hongjoong could respond, Wooyoung let out a dramatic groan from the couch, rolling his eyes. “Man, hearing you two talk about work stuff when I’m supposed to be taking a break from all that is so annoying.”

Hongjoong shot him a bemused look. “Well, maybe if you wanted to take a break from your ‘work stuff,’ you should’ve considered staying home instead of lounging in a work office where work-related matters are supposed to be discussed.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes again, sitting up slightly. “Come on, can’t we set things aside and talk about casual stuff for once? It’s been a while since I last got to be in the same space as both of you, and you’re settling on talking about work?”

For a moment, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong processed his words. Then, Seonghwa was the first to chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a rather unique way to say that you miss hanging out with us.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, huh? That’s what he meant?”

Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Well, you can’t blame me when the past few months have been nothing but busy schedules, busy schedules, and even more busy schedules for us. I chose to work under you two because I know we promised we’d stay together after college, but even being in the same workspace isn’t helping us have more time to spend together.”

Hongjoong sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s up with you and being so sentimental?” Quite hypocritical, as he’s been having the same thoughts as Wooyoung lately as well. The only difference between them is that Wooyoung is comfortable with expressing it, but Hongjoong? Well, not really.

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and gave a knowing smile. “Don’t lie, Hongjoong. You know you feel the same way as Wooyoung does.”

Hongjoong exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Seonghwa could always see right through him regardless of if he wanted him to or not, and sometimes, he doesn’t know if he should appreciate it or be terrified. “Alright, fine. I do miss hanging out like we used to. Things have just been so hectic, especially with all the activities scheduled for the following weeks and months.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to Wooyoung. “Well, seems like you’re right, then. Since you want to talk about ‘casual stuff,’ why not initiate the conversation for us?”

Wooyoung’s eyes brightened. He knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa find him annoying sometimes—well, more often than that, actually—but he never really took it seriously, because he was aware that deep down, they both have a soft spot for him. Unfortunately, for the two older men, Wooyoung has a knack for using that fact to his advantage. “Alright, let’s see... How about we take a stroll around the city later tonight? Just to take our minds off all the stress.”

Seonghwa nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That sounds like a good idea. I actually recommended Hongjoong do the exact same thing all by himself a few days ago, but I figure tagging along with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

Wooyoung beamed. “See, I knew you’d catch my drift.”

Hongjoong was a bit dismissive at first, reminding Seonghwa, “You do know the only person out of the three of us who doesn’t have anything to do today is Wooyoung, right?”

Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly. “So? I could keep lounging in here until your work hours end.”

Seonghwa chuckled, knowing Wooyoung all too well. He wasn’t one to get bored easily, no, not at all, but in a place such as, like what Hongjoong said, a work office wherein work-related matters are supposed to be discussed, it wouldn’t take longer than a second to tire his energy out. “Are you sure you won’t get bored?"

“No, totally not,” Wooyoung insisted. “I’ve even already experienced staying the night in this office without Hongjoong here, and I didn’t get bored at all. It was, like, super cool. You know those cool rich businessmen in movies who spend the night looking outside the window of their office walls on a chair with a bottle of an alcoholic beverage in hand?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, you did what?”

Wooyoung’s, however, darted nervously around the office. “Oh. I mean—”

You sat in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the blank walls and feeling the embrace of loneliness attach itself to you. The evening stretched ahead with no plans, no friends to meet, and no familiar faces to call. Seonghwa had been kind, but you barely knew him, and calling him a friend felt a little too early. Financial prudence also demanded caution; with the casting still a few days away and no guarantee of immediate income, you couldn’t afford to be reckless with how much you spend.

Maybe a walk outside could be nice?

You sighed and looked at the closet doors, debating whether it was worth the effort. The allure of fresh air and a change of scenery tugged at you, while the fear of venturing out into an unfamiliar city at night held you back. You thought about the headache from yesterday—how intense and strange it had been. It wasn’t a normal headache, and it lingered in your mind. Perhaps a stroll through the nearby park would help clear your thoughts.

With your decision now entirely made, you rose from your bed and headed to your closet. You chose a soft beige knit sweater, its cozy warmth comforting against the evening chill. Pairing it with a long, black skirt that reached down to your ankles and shoes of the same color as your sweater, you completed the outfit with a light scarf draped casually around your neck. You began fixing your appearance up, and once you were satisfied, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment.

As you reached the ground floor, you spotted Madame Dupont at the entrance, preparing to leave. “Madame Dupont?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with her.

She turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Ah, bonsoir! How are you, dear?” she asked, her voice warm and welcoming.

“I’m well, thank you,” you replied, offering her a smile. “Where are you off to?” Your eyes darted to the streets outside.

“I’m just heading to the grocery store,” she said, adjusting the strap of her handbag. “What about you? Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of taking a walk,” you said, glancing towards the door once more. “But if you don't mind, I could accompany you instead.”

Madame Dupont’s face brightened even more. “Oh, that would be lovely! Are you sure you don’t mind?”

A walk to the park may have been your initial plan, but you still weren’t entirely sure the calm atmosphere of the evening would suffice to outweigh both the thoughts inside your head and your worries about possible dangers. “Not at all,” you assured her. “I’d be happy to help.”

The two of you then began to walk together to the bus stop, engaging in light conversation. “How was your day?” you asked as you waited for the bus to arrive.

Madame Dupont smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was quite eventful, actually. This morning, I had to chase Monsieur Frank’s cat out of my garden again. That rascal has a knack for digging up my flowers!”

You laughed softly, imagining the scene. Monsieur Frank’s féline, Pompidou, was indeed a little ball full of mischief. You’ve had your own set of encounters with him, such as waking up to hearing light scratches by your door—which once happened in the middle of the night and nearly made you consider moving back to Arcadia Bay, having him come out of nowhere and pounce on your shoes when you’re walking out the door, and more. You don’t know why his owner decided to name him Pompidou, but you figured it suits his personality very well. “That sounds like quite the adventure. He’s adorable, but has always been quite of a pain to deal with. Did you manage to catch him?”

“Eventually,” she chuckled. “But not before he managed to scatter soil all over my freshly planted tulips. And then, later in the afternoon, I had a lovely visit from my granddaughter. She’s starting university soon, you know. Full of excitement and nerves, that one.”

You smiled, listening intently. Oh, what would you give to experience starting university for the first time again—with nothing but excitement and nerves, just like Madame Dupont’s granddaughter and nothing like yourself. “Really? That’s wonderful. What’s she going to study?”

“Art history,” Madame Dupont replied, pride evident in her voice. “She’s always had a passion for it. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d spend hours drawing and painting. I’m glad she’s pursuing something she loves.”

The bus arrived, and you both boarded, continuing your conversation during the short ride. Madame Dupont shared stories about her granddaughter’s childhood, her love for art, and her hopes for the future. You listened intently, feeling a warm sense of connection growing between you.

When you arrived at the grocery store, you offered to push the cart, an offer Madame Dupont gratefully accepted. Throughout your journey of navigating through the aisles, you reached for items on the higher shelves that she couldn’t reach, earning appreciative smiles and heartfelt thanks from her.

As you placed a jar of jam into the cart, Madame Dupont continued her stories. “You know, dear, I remember when my granddaughter was just four, she painted the most beautiful landscape. We framed it and it still hangs in our living room. Whenever I look at it, it reminds me of her spirit and creativity.”

“That sounds lovely,” you said, smiling at the thought. You wonder if you had moments in your childhood that were similar to hers. But then again, how would you know? “It must be wonderful to have such a talented family member.”

“I can only imagine that is exactly how your family thinks of you,” Madame Dupont mused, turning to you with a heartfelt smile. Confused, all you could do was let out an awkward chuckle. “What do you mean, Madame Dupont?” you asked, unsure what she was implying.

“You’ve only been here for quite a short while, but let me tell you, dear, it’s easy for me to be able to tell you have a genuine soul. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I really appreciate it—having one of my tenants accompany me to the grocery store isn’t exactly a common occurrence.” She chuckled, placing her hand on top of yours that remained sat on the cart and rubbed her thumb on the back of it shortly before letting go.

“It’s nothing, Madame Dupont,” you attempted to counter, but she wouldn’t relent. She shook her head in response, finding it amusing how you seem to be struggling to allow yourself to accept her kind words. “Well, whatever you say,” was all she settled with before turning her attention back to her grocery shopping list.

While you and Madame Dupont continued to shop together, she suddenly stopped and turned to you. “Would you mind waiting here for a moment, dear? I need to use the bathroom.”

“Of course, take your time,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” she said, patting your arm gently before heading towards the restroom. You positioned the grocery cart in a corner to avoid blocking the aisle, then leaned against it and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through social media, you let yourself get absorbed in the digital world. Minutes passed, the hum of the store fading into the background, when you heard a voice that seemed oddly familiar coming from the other end of the aisle.

Curiosity piqued, you turned off your phone and tucked it back into your bag. Leaning forward, you peeked around the corner to see Seonghwa, reaching for an item on the shelf.

“Seonghwa?” you called out, stepping into the aisle.

His head snapped in your direction, and upon recognizing you, he broke into a warm smile. “Hey! What a surprise to see you again so soon,” he said, his voice laced with genuine delight as he pushed his cart towards you. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, gesturing to the half-full cart beside you. “Just accompanying my landlord with purchasing her groceries.”

“Oh, do you live around here?” Seonghwa tilted his head, half his hair softly falling down to the side he turned to.

“No, my apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” you explained. “What about you, though? What are you doing here?” you asked, this time gesturing to his cart.

“Oh, me?” He pointed to himself, smiling. “My friends and I were planning to spend a few hours at the park, and we figured we could stop by here for a moment to grab some snacks we could eat.”

“What a coincidence. I was thinking of going to the park, too,” you mused, sharing your initial plans for the night.

Seonghwa’s face then lit up. “Really? Why don’t you come and tag along with us? They both work at the agency that’s hosting the casting you’ll be attending, too. It would be nice if you could get to know them beforehand.”

You hesitated, glancing back towards the restroom where Madame Dupont had disappeared. “That sounds lovely, but I promised my landlord I’d help her with the shopping. Maybe another time?”

He nodded, understanding and not pressing the matter. “Sure, another time it is then. So, speaking of, how’s everything going with the casting preparations?”

“It’s been…” quite a challenge, was what you wanted to say. After all, there was some truth to it. Yet still, you didn’t want to show any signs of wavering. “It’s been going well. I’ll definitely be there.”

“Great! I really think you could be our turning point,” he said enthusiastically, his eyes earnest and full of hope.

You laughed, trying to lighten the mood and ease the pressure. “No pressure, right? Or else I might not show up.”

He grinned, playing along. “Okay, okay, no pressure.”

Just then, a voice called out his name from another part of the store. Seonghwa groaned, rubbing his temple with a resigned smile. “That’s my cue. This is why we can’t go anywhere together without causing a scene.”

You chuckled, amused by his predicament. “Having friends like that must be fun.” You wouldn’t know anything about it for sure, but the thought seemed nice. Maybe in the future, you’d also get to experience having your name be shouted in a public grocery store by a close friend of yours. Or, who knows? You could be the one shouting.

“Fun, yes. Embarrassing, absolutely,” he said, rolling his eyes but with a fond smile. “I’d better go. See you at the casting?”

“Definitely. See you,” you said, waving as he walked away. Almost immediately after Seonghwa left, Madame Dupont returned, looking refreshed. “Who was that young man you were talking to?” she asked, seemingly intrigued.

“Oh, just… an acquaintance,” you replied, still feeling quite hesitant over considering Seonghwa as a friend. Hopefully, one day, you’ll feel more comfortable referring to him with such a term. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Madame Dupont nodded, smiling warmly. “Alright, dear. Let’s continue, shall we?”

The two of you resumed your shopping, chatting and laughing as you navigated the aisles. You reached for items on the higher shelves, and Madame Dupont shared more stories about her family. Her anecdotes were heartwarming, filled with fond memories and lively descriptions. As you listened, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. These simple moments, like helping her shop and hearing her stories, were making you feel more at home in this new city.

Seonghwa pushed his grocery cart around the store, his eyes scanning the aisles as he searched for Hongjoong and Wooyoung. He maneuvered through various sections, weaving past other shoppers and glancing down every row. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he spotted them and couldn’t help but pause, taken aback by the sight.

Wooyoung was perched inside an empty shopping cart, looking quite pleased with himself, while Hongjoong pushed it with a resigned, tired expression on his face.

“Should’ve known you were only referring to yourself when you said you wanted ‘us’ to have fun,” Hongjoong deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he sighed heavily.

Wooyoung scoffed, playfully swatting at Hongjoong’s hand that gripped the handle of the cart. “Pushing a shopping cart can be fun too! You just don’t know how to do it right. Now push faster!”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle, his amusement evident as he approached them. “Should I be surprised?”

“Yes!” Wooyoung replied instantly, grinning.

“No,” Hongjoong said at the same time, his tone flat.

“What took you so long, anyway? You said you were just going to grab a few snacks before we head to the counter,” Hongjoong asked, his movements with the cart becoming more mindless as he pushed and pulled it back and forth.

“That I was, but I came across her,” Seonghwa said with a shrug. He figured there was no need to specify who he was talking about, as Hongjoong’s eyes widened in recognition.

“The girl from Rue de la Paix?” Hongjoong inquired, just to make sure.

From his seat in the cart, Wooyoung interjected. “For how much longer are you gonna refer to her as the girl from Rue de la Paix? Aren’t you planning on, like, getting her name or something, at least?”

“Not when Seonghwa keeps forgetting to do that,” Hongjoong answered, gesturing toward Seonghwa, who now sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I overheard you saying you got a call from her recently. You have her number, right? You could just ask for her name through a text message. Not unless you want to keep referring to her using such a long nickname,” Wooyoung suggested, shrugging.

Seonghwa nodded, considering the idea. “Yeah, I’ll think about that.”

Hongjoong shifted the conversation back. “So, what was she doing here?”

“She was helping her landlord with grocery shopping,” was what Seonghwa responded.

“Does she live around here?” Hongjoong asked, his curiosity piqued and his hands no longer pushing the cart he held back and forth.

“No, she said her apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” Seonghwa explained. “She was just being helpful.”

Wooyoung, still in the cart, dramatically sighed. “Ah, the noble deeds of the common folk.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Wooyoung’s head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous but lovable,” Wooyoung retorted, grinning widely. “Come on, admit it. You missed having me around.”

Hongjoong groaned. “No, I didn’t,” yes, he did.

Seonghwa chuckled, joining in. “Alright, enough of this. Let’s finish up and get going. Wooyoung, get out of the cart before we get kicked out of here.”

Wooyoung pouted but complied, hopping out of the cart with exaggerated movements. “Fine, but only because I’m hungry.”

After what felt like nearly half an hour of waiting by the side of the streets, a bus finally came into view, and thankfully, nearly all of its seats were vacant. You took the bag of groceries from Madame Dupont’s grasp, motioning for her to get in first. Once you both settled on one of the seats by the middle, you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned your head on the window. Today didn’t go exactly as you planned, but the point of unwinding and getting a breath of fresh air was accomplished anyway, wasn’t it?

“So, about the young man from the grocery store,” Madame Dupont started, making you sit up straight and turn your head to her. “How do you two know each other?”

You then purse your lips in excitement over finally getting to tell Madame Dupont about the casting. “Remember when I asked you for directions to Rue de la Paix for my job search?” you asked, waiting for a nod of confirmation first. Once you received it, you continued speaking. “That’s where I met him. His name is Seonghwa, and he works under an agency of fashion and modeling.”

“That sounds interesting,” Madame Dupont mused, almost to herself. “How did you two meet each other?”

“I wouldn’t say meet,” you said sheepishly, remembering how Seonghwa was quite literally running in full speed towards you. “But he’s seen me before, and said he wanted to approach me back then but couldn’t. The reason he wanted to approach me was, well…”

“Well?” Madame Dupont tilted her head, intrigued. “Don’t leave me hanging, dear,” she joked, making you laugh.

“I may or may not have been casted to become a model.”

There were a few seconds of silence between both of you, and you figured it’s safe to assume Madame Dupont wasn’t speaking because she was trying to process your words. Suddenly, you’re caught by surprise when a wide smile spreads across her face as she gently grabs a hand of yours using both of hers and shakes it in excitement.

“That’s wonderful, dear! Especially since you’ve been doing nothing but search for jobs the moment you stepped foot here,” she beamed, and for a moment, you nearly believed she was more excited for the opportunity than you were. “I’m a hundred percent certain you’ll do very well and get accepted.”

“I wish I could say the same thing, Madame.” You chuckled. “I’m still really nervous, and the casting’s happening on Friday this week.”

“Friday?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and all you could do was nod. “Well, that is very close, indeed. Have you been going through preparations?”

“I have,” you said, smiling. “It still doesn’t feel real to me, though.” You didn’t want to blame yourself for feeling like this, as for a person who’s always been accustomed to staying behind the shadows, suddenly stepping into a career where the main point is to let yourself be seen is indeed a terrifying experience.

“That’s normal. It’s a huge shift, after all,” her voice took on a soft tone, attempting to ease your nerves. “Do you have anything to wear for the casting yet?”

“Oh, about that…” you trailed off, your mind going back in time to recall the photos you took of the designs from the sketchbook. “There’s a few designs I want to base my attire on, but I haven’t gone off on a kickstart about it yet. Preparations have been mostly about my confidence and less about my appearance.”

Madame Dupont smiled, leaning back in her seat. “Is that so? Well why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could help you with that, dear,” she offered.

You felt a bit hesitant. “I’d appreciate that, Madame Dupont. But I don’t wanna take up too much of your time and bother you.”

She waved your concerns off. “Oh, dear, you’ll never be a bother to me. You helped me out today, and I think it’s only right for me to return the favor.”

“Alright, but, how?” You tilted your head, confused about where she was heading to.

Madame Dupont let out a hum, eyes darting all around the bus as she pondered over what to say before fully turning her gaze back to you. “Do you know why I never get bored even when I rarely go outside unless it’s necessary?”

You shook your head. “No, why?”

“Sewing, knitting, and crocheting are some of the things that keep me company,” she explained. Seeing your puzzled expression, she added, “And I’m bringing that up because I was thinking I can return the favor by sewing your outfit for you.”

You hesitated. “Oh, but... I don’t want to turn your hobby into an obligation.” Sure, it seemed like it would be of a huge amount of help to you, but was it really right to accept it?

Seeing your hesitance, she insisted, “I would love to help you. Besides, it’s no trouble at all.” Just as you were about to politely decline, the bus stopped in front of your apartment, and Madame Dupont used it as an opportunity to wave off any further protests. “You have no other choice but to accept my help,” she said firmly.

Eventually, you gave up, letting her have her way. “Alright, Madame Dupont.” You took the groceries and let her get off the bus first, following soon after. As you both walked towards the apartment, you turned to her, “Would you like me to help with unpacking your groceries?”

“No, dear, you’ve done enough for me today,” she said kindly. “You should go get some rest—but not before you send me the image of the attire you want to use as inspiration.”

Nodding, you promised to send the photos once you got back to your apartment. “Thank you so much, Madame Dupont.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” she replied with a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we’ll come up with.”

Back in your apartment, you lay down on your bed, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You took out your phone and scrolled back and forth through the pictures of the designs from the sketchbook, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Each design had its own charm, but one particular outfit kept catching your eye. It was the off-shoulder dress with delicate lace detailing that had given you a headache the first time you saw it, but now that you were more... used to the sight of it, it seemed perfect. After some deliberation, you decided that this was the one. You sent the image to Madame Dupont’s contact number with a short message.

This is the one I’d like to use as inspiration. Thank you so much for your help!

As you put your phone down, you muttered to yourself, “Now that that’s out of the way, I should probably go clean up before I head to bed.” You stood up, stretching your arms above your head, and made your way to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower helped to wash away the fatigue of the day, and as you stood under the stream, you felt a sense of relief and anticipation for what was to come.

Meanwhile, at the park, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were seated in one of the grassy areas, enjoying the peaceful evening. The sun had returned to its peaceful slumber long ago, and the park was illuminated by soft, ambient lights, creating a serene atmosphere. “So, any updates on your missing sketchbook?” Wooyoung asked, before popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

Hongjoong’s expression darkened, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. “The universe might as well tell me to quit my career at this point.”

Seonghwa shook his head, refusing to encourage Hongjoong’s behavior. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a pessimist. We’ll find it eventually.”

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his frustration evident. “Seonghwa, take a moment to reflect on the circumstances we’re currently under. How can I not be pessimistic? My entire collection for the autumn fashion week is in that sketchbook, along with years of work.”

Seonghwa nodded, understanding Hongjoong’s point but still trying to lift his spirits. “I get what you’re feeling, but moping around won’t do anything. We need to stay proactive.”

Wooyoung, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Why’s the sketchbook so important to you anyway? I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid question since it, like you said, has all the designs you’ve made since college and the sketches for the autumn fashion week, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not the only reason. What’s the real deal?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered with an emotion he quickly masked. “You’re thinking way too deeply into it,” he deflected, looking away.

Wooyoung shrugged, sensing Hongjoong’s reluctance to delve deeper. “Well, whatever.”

🪞 — lividstar.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

How are things going for the staff of the Gallifrey Institute for learning? You’re doing a great job, but I’d imagine there are some isolationist groups among Time Lords not happy with the work you’re doing.

Also, how’s Myishu 'the Fryer' of Scendeles doing with the catering these days? I’m a big fan of Myishu.

Ah, we're so glad you asked! Things are progressing smoothly here at the Gallifrey Institute for Learning (GIL). The High Council continues to fully support our mission of intergalactic education, despite the occasional grumblings of isolationist factions. Rest assured, they're of no concern.

And now, a quick update from each of us here at GIL!

---

Kowlignelokegalrasnorusowayfogilsha of Arcal – Chancellor

As Chancellor, I am proud to oversee the continued work of this esteemed institute. I recently completed a covert review of Earth’s educational systems. While it appears your understanding of quantum mechanics is … rudimentary, I am impressed with the creativity of your children's art classes. In fact, I have taken up crayons myself.

Saralonoroxapligofmyityo of Arcal – Vice-Chancellor

The Vice-Chancellor here! Things are wonderfully busy, as usual. Just last week, we received a fascinating inquiry from a planet whose inhabitants measure time-based on the growth rate of their fungal forests. I had the pleasure of organising a seminar to help them align their calendar system with Gallifreyan Relative Time.

Noraxoekodurosugofbyn of Prydon – Translation Officer for Mutter’s Spiral

Greetings from the translation desk! Work has been brisk—lots of correspondence from Earth lately, which I take as a sign that we're making an impact. For instance, I recently decoded a message from a human child addressed to Joxer the Mighty, declaring that she, too, has a mighty cat.

Shaplinortyovatshuagu of Drome – Regional Liaison for Mutter’s Spiral

Hello, Earthlings! It's always a pleasure liaising between your charming spiral and Gallifrey. Last month, I attended a human lecture on cryptid zoology. I was delighted to see such creative thinking about creatures that arrived on your planet accidentally.

Myishu 'the Fryer' of Scendeles – Catering

(Myishu's mastery of Earth dialect is limited).

Yo to Earth natives! I is thanking yous for big nice things and much happy now. Is big honour for Myishu to be in team of people—so big and much spongey brains. Earth people are {energy}. Myishu much enjoy Earth things like sloppy noodles and breadsticks. Me make often the dishes of kitchen Earth for all my friends. We eat like horse, chomp chomp. Yay!

I like you for all goodness you say for Myishu. Love love!

@fatelesschild - Human Liaison for Sol 3

I'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotiredI'msotired

Joxer (the Mighty) – Feline Assistant

Meow.

---

Thank you again for your kind words and your support of GIL! We’re always here, striving to educate and connect the cosmos. And to the fans of Myishu—your praise has been well-received. Expect even more Earth-inspired delights on the menu soon (he's been perfecting his tiramisu).

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴