#did this instead of revising ✨

[komijava]

Trying out some line art things

[xcherryerim]

Si tú me quisieras

(If you loved me)

Mike schmidt x Gn!reader | wc: 2.2k

“Si tú me quisieras, el amor que quisieras lo tendrías conmigo. No soy cursilera, pero si me quisieras, sería todo distinto” — Si tú me quisieras by Nia Vanie & Adrian Bello

Warning: Friends to lovers | Sappy | angst and fluff (?) | mentions of sex | fighting | a bit of aggressive Mike

notes: it seems like I love writing sappy stuff for Mike at 1-4 am. I didn’t really revise this so sorry if there is many mistakes or repeated words ✨ Also the lyrics in this story is the same as the one from the intro (and yes. Mike knows spanish here)

Summary: As time goes by, it becomes increasingly difficult for Mike not to hide the secrets that are troubling him. He has had enough and decides to reveal his feelings to you, his best friend.

You caught sight of Mike wearing the same shade of sage green shirt you were wearing. With a deep breath, you called out to him, "No, no! Change, please. That's too much of a coincidence!”

Mike sighed heavily, slamming the car door shut behind him. His eyes narrowed, frustration etched onto his face. "Can you give me a break? This is the only clean shirt I have left!"

Reluctantly, you let out a frustrated groan. It wasn't about the shirt or the coincidences; it was about how deeply it affected you every time he wore that particular color. But you knew pushing him further wouldn't solve anything. So instead, you relented, "Fine, fine."

Why does it matter anyway?" he asked, increasing the volume of the radio in an attempt to cover up his unease.

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel as you tried to explain your concern. "Because people are going to think we're a couple,"

Mike couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He had been hoping that today would be the day when you finally noticed him in the way he wanted you to. But here he was.

“But like, we aren’t so it doesn't matter, does it?”

“I guess.” You shrugged.

You started to suggest what movie to watch at the end of the day. A little tradition you guys did after running errands together, but Mike was staring at the street, drowning in his thoughts. Did you hate the idea of dating him that much?

“No hay nada que pueda hacer que me veas, y eso me duele tanto. Y aunque tú no me quieras como yo te quiero yo te seguiré amando.” / “There's nothing I can do to make you look at me, and that breaks me. Even if you don’t love me like I love you, I'll still adore you.”

"Isn't this the song that you like, Mike?" you asked, a small smile forming on your lips.

Mike's response was quiet and subdued. "Uh, yeah."

He didn't like the song, not really. He related to it, to every verse, word, and beat. It was a reflection of his feelings, a mirror to his unspoken thoughts and emotions. The lyrics echoed through the car, resonating with both of you in different ways.

“Dicen que de amor nadie se muere, pero si este dolor es la alternativa, prefiero la muerte” / “They say no one dies out of love, but if this pain is the alternative, I rather die.”

Mike sat silently next to you, the strum of guitar strings and the singer's melodic voice echoing throughout the car. A wave of disappointment washed over him, making the atmosphere in the vehicle almost suffocating. You could sense his discomfort, but you pressed on, trying to stay focused on the road ahead.

“Te estoy amando aunque no te diga nada. Estoy guardando este secreto para mí en el fondo de mi alma. Si tú me quisieras, no perdería ni un minuto más. Me entregaría con sinceridad, si te quedas conmigo.” / “I'm loving you even if I keep quiet. I’m keeping this secret in the depths of my soul. If you loved me, I wouldn't lose another minute more. I’ll sincerely give myself to you, if you stay with me.”

…

Feeling the need to intervene, Mike quickly stepped in to assist an elderly woman who was struggling to reach for a specific medicine. "Oh, let me help with that," he said, his voice filled with genuine kindness. As he handed her the item she needed, a warm smile spread across his lips, and you couldn't help but feel proud of his compassionate nature.

The woman thanked him graciously, her eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said, her gaze shifting between you both. "You two look like a nice couple. It reminds me of when my late husband and I used to go shopping together."

A sudden flush crept up your cheeks as the weight of her words settled upon the both of you. You knew it wasn't intentional, but the implication made your heart race faster than it should. Swallowing hard, you felt the need to clarify things.

"We're not a couple," you quickly replied, your voice tinged with slight awkwardness. The heat from your blush radiated outward, an audible confession of your true feelings.

Mike smiled gently at you, his eyes dancing with a mix of mirth and sadness. "Definitely not a couple," he affirmed, a hint of longing lurking beneath the surface.

As he turned to face you, he couldn't help but notice the defensive posture you took, your arms firmly crossed over your chest. Was there pain in your eyes? No, it couldn't be. He pushed the thought aside, choosing to focus on the present moment.

"Well, you seem pretty insulted by that," he remarked casually, attempting to shift the topic away from the elephant in the room.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “What? I’m not good enough for you?” Your words were laced with humor, but the underlying emotion was undeniable. There was a yearning, a desire for something more.

Mike sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he shook his head. "We are not having this conversation again," he stated firmly. Today, he simply couldn't muster the energy for the friendly flirtation that had become a routine between the two of you.

The innocent, fun activity of grocery shopping quickly transformed into something far more uncomfortable between the two of you. The mood had shifted dramatically, leaving behind a heavy silence that seemed to grow more oppressive with every passing second.

Mike could no longer mask his emotions – his face bore the unmistakable signs of anger, complete with furrowed eyebrows and heavy breathing. His movements became more forceful as he tossed items into the cart, each action an expression of the tumultuous emotions churning within him.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, you hesitantly asked, "Are you alright?" The question hung in the air, seemingly adding fuel to the fire. The guilt you felt for asking it gnawed at your insides, knowing that you might have only exacerbated the situation.

Mike glared at you, his dark eyes flashing with hurt and resentment. At that moment, he couldn't bring himself to answer your question.

As you tried to find a way to bridge the gap, you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the last straw in maintaining the delicate balance of your friendship. For years, the two of you had shared laughter, tears, and dreams, but now you stood on the precipice of something unfamiliar and uncertain.

…

To lighten the mood, you attempted a weak joke, "Where else, boss?" but it fell flat in the wake of the tension between the two of you.

Mike provided a terse response, focusing on giving directions to Walmart without acknowledging your attempt at humor. "I need to get a few things for Abby, she's doing a project for school," he said, buckling his seatbelt.

Attempting to ignore the growing discord, you asked, "Oh, are there any close by?" and started the car, navigating the streets according to the directions Mike had given you. However, your nerves got the better of you, and you found yourself missing turns and getting lost.

Each error only served to fuel the fire. Mike's frustration grew with every misstep, a slow burn that threatened to consume the both of you. And then, finally, it boiled over. "Left, I said fucking left!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the strain of holding back his emotions.

"My fucking god. Can you drive?"

Stung by his harsh words, you couldn't help but retaliate. "What the hell is your problem? Why are you suddenly acting like a bitch?" Angry tears pricked at your eyes, the frustration of the day taking its toll on your composure.

His eyes locked onto yours, the transit stretching on as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he snapped, "Because you're terrible at driving!" It was a feeble excuse, an attempt to deflect from the real issue that loomed between you.

Your heart sank as you demanded answers, pleading with him to reveal the truth. "I'm not stupid, Mike. Tell me what is it!"

Mike's jaw clenched tightly, his mind racing as he tried to find the words to articulate his thoughts. But the harder he tried, the more elusive the truth seemed to become. The weight of the question pressed down upon him, threatening to crush the fragile foundation of their friendship.

Finally, he posed the question that hung between him like a cloud. "Do you hate the idea of being with me?" His heart pounded in your chest, waiting for your response, fear and hope to battle within him.

"What? Am I disgusting to you? Is it because I don't have a set job? Why?"

The weight of those words hung heavily between you, the car falling silent except for the hum of the engine. In that moment, everything felt on the line – your friendship, your future, and the truth that had been bubbling under the surface for so long.

"I never said that," you responded, your voice shaking with hurt and confusion. You grasped for some semblance of control amidst the chaos of your emotions.

"Well, you don't have to!" Mike declared, his voice wavering. Years of unspoken feelings finally burst forth, spilling out in a torrent of raw honesty. "We've avoided this for years. We're not friends!" The accusation hung in the air.

Mike recounted memories that flooded your minds, moments shared between the two of you that transcended the boundaries of friendship. "Holding hands at IKEA? Almost kissing? Showering together and almost having shower sex?"

With a bitter laugh, Mike snarled, "Friends, my balls. We're more than that, and we've been avoiding the truth for too long. It's time to face it."

"I just didn't know you liked me..." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the truth bore down on you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mixed with the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you.

Mike's eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to dissipate. "I've liked you for a long time," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared to say anything, scared of losing you as a friend."

The car fell silent once more, the hum of the engine the only sound that broke the heavy silence. At that moment, the two of you sat there, grappling with the new reality that had been laid bare between you. The path forward was uncertain, but one thing was clear – the friendship you had cherished for so long has now changed.

Mike sighed deeply, attempting to gather his thoughts and steady his escalating emotions. "I understand if you don't want to ever see me again," he murmured, his tone filled with a combination of regret and resignation. Despite the turmoil, he reached out and gripped your hand tightly, a silent plea for understanding.

"But, if that is the case," he continued, his voice catching in his throat, "at least let me kiss you... for the first and last time." The request hung in the air, heavy with the implication of finality.

You felt your body tremble at his words, a mix of excitement and fear coursing through you. The prospect of sharing this intimate moment with Mike, the one person you'd always cared for, both thrilled and terrified you.

"I don't want to die without knowing what it feels like to kiss you," he said, his voice filled with a mix of longing and desperation. The weight of the moment bore down on both of you, the unspoken emotions finally giving voice.

"And you won't have to," you whispered, desperation mingling with determination in your voice. Without another word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you until your lips met his in a searing kiss that echoed the years of longing that had built up between you.

Mike hesitated for only a moment before responding, his arms wrapping around you as the passion of the moment took hold. The weight of the past years melted away, replaced by the intensity of the present. For once, the uncertainty that had plagued your friendship was gone, replaced instead by the electric connection that had always been there, hiding just beneath the surface.

As the kiss lingered, you began to realize that this was not the end, but the beginning of a new chapter for you both. The path forward may be fraught with uncertainty, but you were ready to face it together, finally embracing the love that had grown between you.

Fin, Hope you enjoyed! I just wanted to write more than smut 😪

[morelikeravenbore]

How did Auralie get her scars?

🦋✨ Hello there li'l anon friend! Thank you sooo much for sending in this question and for taking an interest in my bebe!

Not gonna lie, I went full blown too-much for this one and ended up writing a ~1.3k word fluffy drabble instead, lolol. But if you'd like a tldr, Aura got her scars after obtaining a scratch from a Venomous Tentacular seedling in her father's greenhouse. Since the wounds were magical in nature, the scars weren't able to be erased, but thanks to the wise words of her plant-loving (slightly eccentric) Hufflepuff Papa, she learned to see the beauty in them.

Anyways, this little oneshot is based after events in How to Make a Villain that haven't been published yet. For anyone reading along, there aren't any hard spoilers, but there are hints that they've been through some ✨stuff.✨

🦋 TW: none! Mostly fluffy with a little bit of angst and a general air of trauma. Photo of Aura's scars by me, Sebebe's scars by @lorriiraine

Preview: Much to the chagrin of his peers, excelling in his studies was, to put it mildly, downright bloody easy, and though his natural proclivity towards excellence often put him on the receiving end of bitter remarks and jealous taunts, Sebastian took pride in the fact that despite everything that had been taken from him, his intelligence remained unfaltering.

That is, until he fell in love.

Sebastian Sallow was no idiot, by any means. Having been raised by two fiercely academic professors, he'd spent much of his childhood with his nose buried in a book, studying magical theory and practicing wandless magic well before he'd taken his epochal trip to Ollivander's. Needless to say, by the time he arrived at Hogwarts — armed with a dragon heartstring wand and an itching desire to point it at everything — his intelligence was rivalled only by that of his sisters: the Sallow twins, though grieving the tragic death of their parents, were the brightest pair of students the school had seen in recent memory, an unstoppable force of Slytherin brains, resourcefulness, and ambition who were destined for greatness despite their unfortunate beginnings.

In fact, so brilliant was Sebastian's studious mind that when those unfortunate beginnings turned into unfortunate endings — starting with his sister's curse and ending with his uncle's death — his grades remained so impeccably high that even the strictest professors were loathe to punish him too severely when he repeatedly broke curfew to steal books.

Much to the chagrin of his peers, excelling in his studies was, to put it mildly, downright bloody easy, and though his natural proclivity towards excellence often put him on the receiving end of bitter remarks and jealous taunts, Sebastian took pride in the fact that despite everything that had been taken from him, his intelligence remained unfaltering.

That is, until he fell in love.

Little did he know that the thing that would ultimately turn his brain from highly efficient machine into flobberworm mush would come not in the form of N.E.W.T studies or brutal exam revisions, but from a girl who was so beautiful she rendered him incapable of coherent speech, rational thought and, perhaps most difficult of all, an inability to restrain himself from pulling her onto his lap and staring at her all gooey-eyed like he was now, their faces so close he could count every sun-kissed freckle across her nose.

To think he'd once thought himself too smart to ever fall in love.

What an idiot.

'You have a scar.' Aurelie was the first to break the silence they'd been enjoying for the better part of the afternoon, tilting her head to inspect the two faint scars that adorned his bottom lip. 'What happened?'

Sebastian had to hold his breath as her fingers ghosted the corner of his mouth; though the great weeping willow they'd settled under for the day offered some privacy from the shrewd eyes and wagging tongues of their fellow Feldcroft residents, it wasn't quite an appropriate place to enact all the romantic fantasies he imagined whenever she was perched in his lap like this.

'Flying —' He cleared his throat. 'Flying accident.'

'Quidditch?'

'No, uh —' Me crash broom. Biiiig idiot. 'I borrowed my father's broomstick when I was seven. Crashed into the side of the house.'

'Silly,' she murmured, giggling so close to his mouth that he inhaled it.

Sebastian nodded: the only response he could reasonably manage as her breath fanned pleasantly across his face, as warm and sweet as the summer air in his lungs.

Yes. Me stupid. Give smooch.

'You have scars, too,' he observed, his feather-light touch mirroring hers as he traced the delicate scars along her jawbone.

Though they did little to mar her beauty, the three long scratches seemed somehow too violent for features so fine, like cracks in an ornately gilded mirror, or chips in an otherwise pristine marble slab. He'd often wondered how she'd gotten them, but the mere thought of her suffering any sort of pain was so intolerable that he'd never found the courage to ask.

Seeming to sense the disquieted tone of his thoughts, Aurélie caught his fingers and pressed them to her cheek, effectively short-circuiting his brain again.

Me like touch face.

'Oh, those,' she said mildly, leaning into his touch. 'Gardening mishap.'

Sebastian could only grunt questioningly in reply, struck dumb again by the warmth of her skin and how softly it yielded beneath his calloused palm. It wasn't often she let him touch her so willingly; after all, there were scars that ran deeper than her marked skin, barely healed wounds that were so fresh and tender that she flinched away if he wasn't careful enough, slow enough. Part of loving this tentative girl was learning to control the moments his brain flipped off and his rambunctious heart took over, when his once infallible logic and reason were trumped by his big, dumb heart.

Theirs was a love that had exploded into existence at the start of their seventh year only to smoulder away inexorably for the rest of it until the flames inevitably reared up to engulf them. Now, a month after graduation, both a little scorched around the edges, neither of them were quite used to being together together, still reeling from the events that had nearly torn them apart while trying to navigate a future they'd never seen coming.

Of course, Sebastian had known from the beginning that his future was bound to hers — but never like this.

'Papa raised Venomous Tentacular when we lived in France,' Aurélie explained, closing her eyes as he stroked his thumb across her cheek. 'Maman was not happy about it. She argued that it was too dangerous to keep such aggressive plants in his greenhouses, especially with a curious daughter in tow.' She cracked open an eye to peek at him, a little wry grin teasing the corner of her lips. 'She didn't approve of my enthusiasm for gardening. Apparently, "it's not becoming of a lady to have dirt caked under her nails all the time." But Papa insisted.'

'Hufflepuff's and their plants,' Sebastian murmured, surprised he was able to string together four words that actually made sense.

'Yes,' she said, glancing up through her lashes with a smile tinged with pain. Sebastian returned it in kind, his own smile heavy with the burdens he shouldered. He knew how it felt to have the warmth of every happy memory tempered by the cold indifference of loss, every fond recollection skewed by sorrow. Like a favourite landscape seen through a rain-lashed window, familiar yet distorted, so too were his own memories of his past, of Anne and his parents, his childhood.

With a patience that was new to him, Sebastian waited in quiet observance while Aurélie disappeared across that great chasm of death to visit a happier time, letting her own tainted memories sweep her away until the rustling of summer wind through willow branches brought her back to him.

'Well,' she said, shifting her faraway gaze to meet his, 'you can imagine her horror when a Tentacular seedling reared up unexpectedly and scratched me.' She gestured at her face, tilting her chin back to show him the full extent of the damage her gardening mishap had left behind. Sebastian instinctively leaned forward, wanting so badly to kiss, to soothe, to mend, but mindful, as always, of taking his time.

Pretty.

'It was the worst fight my parents ever had,' she sighed. 'Maman was distraught, said that I'd ruined my face and that Papa had been irresponsible to let me near them. She tried every remedy under the sun to erase the scars — magical and mundane, Healers and Herbologists... even a Curse Breaker when she got really desperate. But magical wounds leave scars, so...'

She trailed off with a shrug, and Sebastian thought that if he didn't kiss away the lingering sadness from her face right then and there, he might actually explode.

'And what did your Papa think?' he asked, his voice a reverent whisper as the tip of his nose brushed hers.

'He used to say that my scars were simply "physical evidence of my curious nature and adventurous spirit",' she whispered back, repeating her father's words with perfect recollection. 'And that they only made me more beautiful.'

'Wise man, that Papa of yours.'

No more sad. Me smooch now.

When he leaned in again, dipping his head to brush his nose along her jawline, she didn't move away.

[alexhasalotofthoughts]

Somewhere in the void there is a video of 12 year old me and a friend doing our own version of pinof with whiskers drawn on our faces with eyeliner... No idea where it is though.

I was wearing a hoodie with ✨generic anime girls✨ on and an adventure time t-shirt (+ Doctor Who badges, Matt Smith specifically, just to tie the look together). Both of which were second-hand from an older kid I knew who was a cosplayer. I thought they were so cool because they cosplayed. One time they put me in a wig and did my make-up and I have never felt prettier.

Things like that remind me how much of a loser I have always been.

But also it's kind of adorable. Little me being so excited about things like that. Finding community in the things other people find cringe.

Feeling less alone when I was being bullied for being queer because of Dan's coming out video, 'Dan's queer so it's okay that I am'. Having a group of older cosplayers help me out when I was being catcalled in my CORALINE cosplay, most of which I'd never met before, brought together by blue wigs and funny stares from passers-by. Meeting a friend in year 7 because they overheard me talking about DDLC (a very age-appropriate game -_-), literally jumping down a flight of stairs to talk to me. Talking to the girl I sat next to in maths in year 8 about our mutual love of Danganronpa only to befriend each other properly 2 years later, Danganronpa now replaced by Ace Attorney.

The things I love are so deeply intertwined with the people I meet and the people I love. Intertwined with my identity.

Realistically, I probably need to learn to be less ashamed of the things I love. Of being, as I so graciously put it, a loser.

I would much rather be someone cringe than be so absorbed with self-hatred that I end up drowning in it.

Have the courage to exist and whatnot.

(This post was originally just the first paragraph but I had to edit it to fix a typo and now we're here. Sorry for yapping. As a reward for reading this, here is a terrible drawing of chief yapper Sister Daniel that I did instead of revising for my sociology mock:)

Also I'm not an artist so be nice pls :)

[crystal-cliffs]

yay. emilute fan!! 🎉🎉 just got into the fandom, i love ur aus!

💜 @emiluteyuri

Awe tysmmm^^

And it’s always nice to know the Emilute ship has a new member, I love meeting people who do💜✨

As a treat I’ll put another piece of WIP that hasn’t been edited or revised yet

“Injury doesn’t happen often in Heaven but you got injured in Hell so who knows if leaving it exposed will be okay. Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”

“Then I’ll do it myself.” Lute dragged herself over and sat down on the couch. One of her wings knocked into Emily’s face and the Seraphim scooted over with a huff.

“You know how to do it?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard if you can do it,” Lute muttered as she reached for the rubber gauze instead.

“Spray it first-”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Lute snapped and instead grabbed the small spray container. “I know what I’m doing.”

Emily tilted her head with a smile, but didn’t interfere. “I’m right here if you need help.”

Lute narrowed her eyes in focus as she sprayed the liquid onto the wound. She was meet with a slight wince before she grabbed the gauze again.

“Lute-.”

“I know what I’m doing!” She gripped the gauze tightly and returned to a silent focus. Her gaze flickering between what remained of her arm and the rubber gauze.

Emily took notice of how the feathers along Lute’s wings fluffed out again and started to try and shield herself like she did the other night. “Hey, relax.” Emily leaned forward to try and look at her. “Let me do it.”

Lute glared at Emily, but reluctantly tossed it over with an incoherent mumble.

[the-letterbox-archives]

Hello! I saw your post and was curious about what tales from a dying heart is all about. Could you tell me more? 💛✨

np, thank you sm for the ask!!

file (1)1-28-0011: ask response

for general information, tales from a dying heart (oft shortened to 'tfadh') is about a series of people who for one reason or another find themselves venturing into the heart, an unknowable creature that takes the shape of a massive human heart embedded deep in a forest. the heart created humanity in its earliest stages, and feeds off the stories they tell of it, yet it now grows bitter as humans are experiencing love, something it believes distances humans from it. as penance for this perceived crime, the heart takes humans whose love has been tested and feeds off their lives, instead of the stories that've gone out of style.

i wanted to write it because love as a theme to explore is just so damn interesting! there are 12 relationships thus far that fall into disrepair and seek the heart for solace; since the heart has a reputation as being symbolically representative of love most believe that they will find comfort there that they did not find with their loved one (of course, some stories deviate from this formula, but in the end each person that enters the heart is still seeking comfort in some form [for example vex in book 6 goes into the heart to get revenge, but she is comforted in that prospect, so creates the same environment]).

another thing i wanted to explore in the story is mixing nature and 'body' horror (specifically organ/heart). the nature part is connected by the heart's forest, and the flowers that represent each character. the heart, by all accounts, is a beautiful creation. fun fact: the first story for tfadh i made was book 2, sweetheart and crow's, in a much smaller snippet, and i want to share a part of that to drive home what i want to portray the heart as - a kind of wholeness that lures people in and doesn't let go.

(for context, sweetheart fell into a part of the heart and crow had to pull her out to save her it's also present tense, though the revised stories aren't):

She is lurched from the fleshy roots, a swift few pulls in rapid succession. Sweetheart cries out. It is like your face being ripped from your name. Your identity so cruelly wrenched from your body. Two things that were never meant to separate suddenly are, and there is no stopping it. In Crow’s eyes, her only friend is sinking deeper into the unknown caverns of the heart’s woods. And she knows only one thing. Action is salvation. So even though Sweetheart begs for her to stop, Crow will not. She cannot. After what feels like an eternity, she is removed from the heart’s sticky outer layer. Crow takes it upon herself to brush the entrails from her frozen friend.

there's not much chance to escape after going in. i want to mix nature in the form of forests and flowers, with nature in the form of bloody tendrils and viscera forsaking love. some of it will be a bit gross, but i want the image of the heart to be assaulting. even though it has existed forever, the act of returning to it after 'betraying' it will be a violent sensation (and its a forest of blood and guts, so.... there's that).

it's slow going right now, but i'm chipping away at book 1, hopefully it'll be out soon!! thank you again for the ask :)

[study-ja]

(picture source - gowon's fromm and my blog @myonlylovve)

🌼 7 cheerful days of spring challenge 🌼

22.05.24 ✨ day 3/7

ahhh, i suppose today i was too relaxed? i don't know, just didn't feel like doing anything at all. but i spent it with my friends and family so i guess that's all that matters! we played dominoes, chatted (and i got to tell them about gowon and loona!!! ^^)

here is the answer to my question: 🧑 may 22 — what did i like about myself today? 🤗 my answer: i loved how talkative i was! on the one hand, i'm a bit embarrassed because 'what if i talk too much?!" but my hospital roommates say they enjoy hearing about my hobbies and even about gowon so... i'm happy i was able to spend my day with great people and share my cheerfulness with them!

i completely forgot to take any pictures so, uhh, have gowon instead~ and here's what i did today:

💻 work: — 🎓 university + english: ↳ came up with examples for speech patterns for the speech practice course. 💬 korean: ↳ revised and learnt 7 more words on the topic 집과 생활. 📖 reading: ↳ started reading king lear by william shakespeare. 🧶 hobbies: ↳ talked about gowon and read her fromm updates. 🤍 self-care: ↳ took all my medication; ↳ brushed my teeth twice; ↳ went for a walk with my mom and grandma.

i wish i had done more today but... hope i won't be too stressed tomorrow. need to look for something cheerful!!

[ginger-grimm]

For the plot bunny ask game: Glee, please??

@dancingsunflowers-ocs ✨💛✨

Thank you very much @dancingsunflowers-ocs! Also gonna tag @luucypevensie (and thank you so much for brainstorming with me!) and @daughter-of-melpomene!

For some context of who I'm about to introduce: I, as a lover of ignoring Glee canon, have gone with the popular fanon of making Jake Santana's surprise half-brother and replacing Ryder with a different Puckerman half-brother who isn't a copy of Noah. Also, this is basically an older Glee plot bunny who I'm revising.

Meet Florence Jean Redding, who goes by Flora in general. When Flora's single mother moved her to America a couple of years ago, the Australian-born teenager hoped that there would be much more to do. After all, isn't the "American Dream" what people chase after on a daily? Well, maybe if they didn't live in Lima, Ohio, of all places. Instead of making advancements in her gymnastics, Flora is watching her cheer coach shoot people out of canons. Instead of making some proper money to help out her mother, she's scooping ice cream at the Lima Freeze, watching her boss wage a silly Hatfield vs. McCoy-type war against the Lima Bean across the street.

When Sue Sylvester asks (makes) Flora to spy on the new New Directions for her, to wage another pointless vendetta that should have ended years ago, she declines at first, too uninterested in the bullshit that happens in that club every week. But then she meets one of the dorks who's about to be singing show tunes down the hall, and he just so happens to be a fellow Aussie and suddenly, she's way too enticed by him to not just go for it. Soon enough, her spying duties are forgotten as she starts to enjoy performing, even with the drama that comes with it.

But with the ragtag group of literal misfits more often than not being unable to put together a decent performance, their chances at actually making it to Nationals and winning, like their predecessors did, is starting to seem like an unreachable goal.

[m-i-s-a-n-t-r-o-p]

✨6/11/23✨

things i did for school today

- studied physics

- finished rendering my 3D model

- did some sketches for tomorrow’s consultation with my design professor

-also made some wire mini models for my studio project

selfcare moments

- went to a classical music concert tonight and it was so amaziiing, i want to do this at least once a month

- met up with my friend i haven’t seen for a long time and we talked about our designs. it was so refreshing and i felt so motivated afterwards

- riding the tram with my music on

- went grocery shopping and bought so much fruit and food that i love

- finally washed my hair and my curls are back! i missed them so much (i’m also thinking of cutting my hair shorter but i’m not sure about it)

what i’m grateful for

- my friends

- music

- good food

- being able to appreciate culture

- coffee shops that are open on a late sunday evening

- being able to draw whatever concept i have in mind

tasks i’d like to do tomorrow

- study physics

- hand in my 3D homework

- read the article which i will base my essay on

- draw one my homework for drawing class because i probably won’t be able to do it on tuesday

- revise all that i’ve learned for physics and prepare myself mentally for the test on tuesday

how i felt today

at first i was a bit disappointed my boyfriend wasn’t able to make it to the concert but i went with a friend from school instead and it was so greaaat. i had such a good time and the music moved me a lot, it was simply beautiful. i was tired the whole day so i can’t wait to sleep but it was all worth it. i also came up with some new concepts for my studio project so i am pretty happy about that, now i just have to convince her to like it too haha.

🎧 how to disappear completely - radiohead

✍🏻 to be free is often to be lonely

peace and love

x

[fvriva]

🐖 for Newt & Cy!! What do they look like now??

holy moly, a double whammy! heads up, a lot's different, and the art is a little outdated.

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Newt: Newt's name was intended to be as generic and boring as possible. Kind of ho-hum. Newton Daley feels pretty successful at it.

Cy: Honestly Cy is a huge placeholder name that kind of stuck. First and foremost it just sounds cool, but it's technically short for Cyclops, because when I first drew them, they had their face obscured by shadow save for their grin and one anime eye. This is the kind of thing that could honestly be revised, haha.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Newt: Originally in the story he was the same age as everyone else (15-16) but I'm toying with the concept of having him be a teacher instead because I liked him so much in the prophecy au! Additionally it feels like the cast is like of desperate for positive adult role models so he can kind of step up here. This puts him in his late-40s.

Cy: Cy was created from a scrap of Vernon's husk during the events of the story, making them throughout it only a few weeks to a few months old, as the whole thing takes place over the course of a year.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Newt: Nope! He's ace. When he was a student earlier in development he had a platonic-sort-of thing for Cy but as he is now it's purely just fatherly.

Cy: Not currently. In the prophecy au they had a thing for Amanita but we'll just have to see what happens to them in development.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Newt: He's been eating bran and prunes and plain oatmeal gleefully since he was a wee tyke.

Cy: They've never had the pleasure of eating food where they are in development but they would enjoy the process of eating. It's fun and an excuse to be messy, even if they don't get anything out of it nutritionally or taste-wise. They'd be super into those styrofoam blocks that hold machined parts in place during transit.

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Newt: He's basically the magic school equivalent of a kindly gym teacher. Specifically focuses on swords. In a modern au coaches girl's volleyball.

Cy: Currently their job is assassin. Their dream job is unemployed.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Newt: Newt likes to keep busy so he has a lot of homesteading kinds of hobbies. Some textile work, some wood, lots of gardening and animal husbandry (especially beekeeping).

Cy: Not yet in canon, but after the story they hang out a lot with Newt and figure out what they like. They'd probably like camping honestly. Something about being out in nature, dissociating between spirit and body surrounded by life.

🎯 -What do they do best?

Newt: Genuinely, he doesn't especially excel in one particular area, but he is a reasonably talented swordsman to the point that they put him in change of training in that area. He's also incredibly kind.

Cy: They don't have any particular skills. Even as an assassin, which they're trained for, most of what they can do is because of cheap tricks and magical items they've been given. But so far, theoretically, it's murder.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Newt: He hates having to yell. Nobody likes it when he does either, because he's not even brooding beforehand or afterwards, so it always just takes people completely by surprise every time. As for things he loves to do, he gets a lot of joy from tutoring someone one-on-one.

Cy: Cy hates people telling them what to do, which is basically their entire existence so far. It'll only get worse as it goes on because they value their freedom so much. Consequently their favorite thing to do is the opposite of what they're told... even if that's what you wanted all along. They're not smart enough to know what reverse psychology is yet.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Newt: He's lived a pretty full life with a lot of happy memories. It's hard to pick just one, but it's probably one where he's teaching.

Cy: Later on in the story, Newt chooses to spare their life at great personal cost (he partially turns to gold). It's the first time someone treated them as valuable and worthy of grace despite the circumstances, and they hold this memory in high regard.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Newt: There was a disaster that happened at his sister's workplace and she was missing for a long time. This is a plot thread that kind of goes nowhere but he was up all night worried out of his mind for her.

Cy: Like Vernon, they're subject to the nightmares that come as a result of their amalgam nature, though due to their dissociative abilities with As Above/So Below they can avoid a lot of these thoughts, but at some point when they're whole and merged they need to rest, and they hate it every time.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Newt: Not even a little bit. Newt's initial gimmick was that he was supposed to be an incidentally faceless character, then his face changed to be modeled after Jon Duckdotcom, then I made him a dilf, and now we're here.

Cy: Yes and no. I'm in the process of redesigning them to follow more of a rogue clone kind of arc, but haven't put this to paper yet. As for the design in most of the art I have of them, it's basically identical to the first drawing I made of them all those years ago.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Newt: The Boy Scouts of America.

Cy: Damien Wayne. And one of the prompts during Inktober.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Newt: Honestly? He started as joke pastiche character riffing on a certain kind of non-threataning blandman that exists a lot as a buffer in the cast. He still is kind of a buffer, but now I think he'd be perfect in a comedy.

Cy: They're peak sci-fi honestly. Love an evil clone with sick swords and an edgy hood.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Newt: Cis male aroace

Cy: Agender, still figuring the rest out.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

Newt: Several. He's the oldest of 6. Most of them aren't super important but had established dynamics when he was a teen character that just don't fit well now. They're all named after Earth scientists, canonically wizards of antiquity from humanity's distant past. The most important one is Rosalind Daley, investigative journalist. She's the one that went missing. Pascal, Joules, Darwin are the rest of the kids.

Cy: Technically Vernon is like a brother to them, and probably the closest time they have to a sibling. But there's also all the failed clones that are basically just mindless blobs of matter. If they count.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Newt: They're long dead at this point but good! They challenged him and were generally very supportive and proud of all their kids.

Cy: They were brought into this world by Ozymandias and hated him so much they joined the party trying to kill him. And turned the tide, allowing them to succeed. So bad.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Newt: Newt surprises me because I didn't expect his character to touch on something genuine and heartfelt in the planning phase. Hopefully it follows us to the page as well.

Cy: Cy has a special place in my heart because of how fucked up their given circumstances were, but how much they tried to do something about it. Not gonna lie they really do kind of suck as a person even by the end of the story because they're only just starting to grow and change, but you hopefully get kind of a sense that it's not the end for them. And hopefully they're fun to watch despite it all.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Newt: Not often these days though technically his art is newer because of his prophecy au cameo. In it, he had fancy prosthetic arms and served as a plot hook for the party finding the engineer that made them.

Cy: I haven't drawn them in a hot minute but I used to love doodling them. However I have written them a bit in the prophecy au. Unfortunately because I needed an antagonist for Yule's arc and I was operating under the assumption that this was an alternate timeline where they didn't get the kind of help when they needed it and things were very different for them, so I ended up kind of character assassinating them in front of the squad. Even now this is their impression of Cy which is a crying shame :/

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Newt: I could see it but it wouldn't make sense within the scope of Animus Vitrum really. However he will die at some point of old age.

Cy: I think a good death would probably fix them. Or make them worse. I dunno. Regardless they're also sticking around, being a menace, ect.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Newt: Nope!

Cy: That they know of.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Newt: He's much too normal to have one of these.

Cy: Their "brother" Vernon. And Olivia Hart (self declared)

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Newt: I think I must've made him in late 2018-early 2019. So about 5-6 years.

Cy: I made them in October of 2018 I think? So 5 years.

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

Newt: 18-19. Though the refresh occurred in like 2021, when I was 20.

Cy: 18.

send me an oc + an emoji (or order the WHOLE HOG)

[niobe-loreley]

Heaven Is In A Shortcake {xi}

BEEN TOO DAMN LONG AHJFNHSAEFKJHUN to make up for such a mini hiatus on the fic, I'll be posting two more new chapters because I've got the next three chapters hot and ready to serve!

disclaimer: The Gray Man and the characters are NOT mine, even the reader. I only own the plot and the reader's character lol. Pictures used in the fic are NOT MINE, but only the edited version (u can msg me if u ze owner); credits to the rightful owners and canva + weheartit. Addtionally, I am not a Subic/Zambales native, so my apologies for any wrong locations, descriptions, or languages.

Six x F!Reader / Courtland Gentry x Female Reader

warning: moderate amount of swear words. some filipino dialogues. slow burn. fluff. trust issues. comedy if you use a magnifying glass. culture shock. word count check or not. slightly proofread/revised.

CHAPTER SELECTION is in the ✨Masterlist✨ Chapter 10 is nowhere here Chapter 11 is the chapter right now

word count: 2.1k (N/N) = nickname *Kiara = Claire *Kurt = Court *cover names = reader doesn't know (except you do know #wreckthe4thwall)

For an entire fortnight, Court has successfully not asked you. It is hellish to be in this phase, especially when he hasn't experienced it in his lifetime. Sure, there were people who would flirt with him during missions, and he would flirt back if it's part of his staged identity or the mission isn't commencing yet. And sure, he's shared a bed with someone— and he leaves after an hour.

But he has not asked anyone out. Nor has he had any volition to date anyone until you came along.

This is new territory for him, uncharted waters he never imagined he'd be able to venture. And you're almost like an alien; or maybe he's the alien because he doesn't know the first thing in asking someone out. What is being human, anyway?

Oh, yeah.. that’s how far he has spiraled down the rabbit hole.

"Stare anymore at her and she'll turn into a puddle."

Claire's teasing remark pierces through his thick skull and ceases his haywire thoughts.

Court coughs, noisy and awkward. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Now, that's just plain out idiotic and sad."

"Would you rather pay for the meal tonight?"

"I'd pay for our meal if you ask (N/N) out."

"Tha-That's.. that's not what's happening."

"Again, idiotic and sad."

"You're idiotic." he fires stupidly.

"You're mean."

"You're rude."

"You're a moron."

"You—

"You're watching Playground Insults live!" you chime in with a laugh, "What's going on here? I just went to get extra tissues and you two are fighting."

The pair beams at you as Claire kicks Court in the shin. You hear it, but don't address it, so you wait for either of them to say a word. But besides the music bouncing around the cafe, there's only Claire's shoes rebounding off Court's leg. And Court is smiling at you like nothing is happening.

You look between their grinning faces, and yours begin to falter. This is getting too weird.

"I'm gonna go," you uneasily say, waving before you glide back to the counter.

"You're gonna lose your chance." Claire singsongs quietly.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

Seven days pass by like that. Every day Court contemplates and practices how to ask you out, while talking to you through the transceiver every other night. Claire badgers him that she can help, but he doesn't accept it. So instead, she suggests having breakfast and dinner at the cafe during your shifts after one week of Court's no-show-courting. Court comprises by deciding they'll additionally have breakfast on Mondays and dinner on Saturdays.

They did, and nothing has yet to happen.

It’s Saturday again, it now heavily dawns on Court that he is still at square one for two weeks straight. Even though he has no experience, he sure as hell knows it doesn't take this long to ask someone out on a date.

"I'll ask (N/N) out if you don't get your balls together and just do it." Claire snarls with a mouthful of brown rice.

Court is appalled by her vulgarity, but he doesn't chide her for it. If even Claire has reached her frustration limit, he's no longer at square one— he's down to square negative five.

"I'll do it after dinner," he declares, frowning determinedly.

She snorts incredulously. "I'll believe it when it even happens."

You're serving them dessert by the time they finish dinner. "Enjoy our delightful dulce de leche cake roll!" you beam and swivel around, only to turn back to them when Court calls you. "Yes?"

"Can I talk to you in private?"

"Whatever it is you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Kiara!"

He blinks at you. "What?"

You snicker. "She said that you might ask me something, so she told me to say those words to you."

Court glances between the two of you before settling to scowl at the younger girl. "When did you even have time to tell her?!" he demands, unsure whether to feel betrayed, horrified, or amazed.

"Doesn't matter," Claire wolfishly grins.

"So, what is it?" you ask, looking straight at him.

Systems critical— yet his heart starts drumming like it's in a rock concert even though his brain is malfunctioning from having eye contact with you. He averts his gaze to compose himself, quietly breathing in and out, he rises from his seat and stands in front of you.

What a bad decision. You're too close.

"I..." he trails off, reddening. "Will you..?— Um.. you see, I.."

Claire facepalms, both embarrassed and vexed at her surrogate father.

"Are you having a stroke? Just spill it out, Kurt." you laugh.

He notices Claire mouthing something at him—

If you won't ask her, I will.

Court gulps, gazing into your eyes, he tightens his jaw. Here goes nothing..

"(Y/N), will you go on a d—?"

"Honey, I'm home!"

A guy brusquely bursts in the cafe, Court recognizes his voice even though he only heard it once, and you facepalm to hide your pink cheeks. “Para kang tanga, tol. Sabi na huwag kang gaganyan habang shift ko pa,” you chide the guy as he strides to your side.

You’re like an idiot, dude. I told you to not do that when it’s still my shift,

He snickers. “Ba’t ‘tol’ tawag mo sa jowa mo?” and pecks you on the forehead.

Why are you calling your boyfriend ‘dude’?

You frivolously wipe the spot he shortly put his lips on. “Firstly, Erick, you’re not my boyfriend. Secondly, don’t kiss me without permission.” you frown and jab him on the stomach.

Unbeknownst to you and Erick, but knownst to Claire, Court’s world has ruptured with spiderweb cracks. He feels as though he’s the one whom you struck in the gut; he’s kinda debating whether or not he can ask you to punch him in order to wake up from this stupidly horrifying dream. But then Court realizes that if he puts his head through the wall to wake himself up, reality is going to seep in and burn into every crevice of his brain.

And reality is much harsher than the nightmare he thinks he’s in.

He’s a little too late.

“Court, what were you going to ask?”

Your voice, smooth like the silk strangling his throat, reels him out of his daze. Court tries not to focus on Erick’s arm on your shoulders and mulls over what to say. “I was gonna ask if.. there’s still some strawberry shortcake left for a takeout.” he replies with a small, forced smile.

He thought only Claire could see through him. But you stare at his tight-lipped demeanor as though you understand what’s happening.

Nevertheless, you don’t know why.

“Y-Yeah, there’s still half of the cake left.” you say, glancing at Claire, who can’t even muster a fake smile.

“Can I get two slices from that? One for you and me,” Erick chimes in, winking down on you, squeezing you closer to his side.

“Actually, I was going to buy all of the half.” Court interjects crisply.

There’s a heat in his tone that you and Erick sense immediately. You internally muse that it’s either Court is really adamant about having more strawberry shortcake or there’s something else amiss. 

“Forgive my dad.. (N/N) got him addicted to strawberry shortcake.” Claire laughs to extinguish the growing tension.

“Sorry, dude, customers first.” you elbow Erick’s side with a snicker.

“I’ll just ask you to make some,” he coos, aiming to kiss you on the cheek.

You shove his face away. “And I’ll make you pay for the ingredients.”

“As long as you get to bake me some.”

“I’ll make you pay for the cake, too.”

“You’re a horrible girlfriend.”

“Thank you!”

Erick grumbles about going to the kitchen for free food and strict, workaholic girlfriends. He’s about to turn, but you hop to your tip-toes and peck him on the cheek.

You face the father-daughter duo while Erick becomes a statue as though he made eye contact with Medusa. “I’ll be right back with the cake!” you beam, “Are you gonna pay at the counter or..?”

“At the counter,” Court replies, glancing at Erick still frozen on his spot.

“Great!”

Once the cake has been boxed, you escort the father-daughter duo out of the cafe. The warm air instantly decks the chillness from the cafe, Court wishes he can punch that guy you're dating just as easily. But the one who deserves a broken nose is himself.

This is what he gets for stalling. No matter how nervous and unprepared he is, he should've just asked you out. Because knowing you, you'd understand why he would suck at dating and liking someone. You'll probably laugh at him, but not in any way contemptuous, and reassure him that you can guide him in dating.

The only problem— the reason why Court keeps putting off asking you out— is: would you have said yes?

“See you two next week!” you grin and wave at them like a child.

“(N/N), can we talk later on the walkie? Here’s the channel and the passcode,” Claire hands you a folded piece of paper, trying to sound enthusiastic instead of disappointed. "Tell me all about your boy toy!"

“More like a boy tool,” you roll your eyes.

“Why is that? Are you just dating him for kicks?” Claire questions, quite enthusiastic.

You snort. “Dating is the definition of ‘for kicks’.”

Claire shortly shoots Court a pointed look, practically shouting at him that he still has a chance, and he turns his head away, trying to drown out her silent bellows. If that’s what you think while dating that tool, then what would you be thinking while dating him?

“So,” Claire intones, hesitant. “You don’t like Erick the tool?”

“I like him.. but not enough to say he’s my boyfriend.”

“Will you like him enough to be your boyfriend?”

“Claire,” Court says in a warning tone.

“What?” she snaps.

“You don’t have to answer her.” he informs you reassuringly.

“No, it’s alright. This is a ‘who knows’ situation,” you shrug, regarding Court for a full five seconds, you then turn to Claire. “There’s a chance, but time will tell. Erick knows it as well.”

You suddenly look at Court and Claire as though you’ve had an epiphany. Court becomes nauseated, thinking that you’re already contemplating on marrying the tool you’re dating.

“Hey, what do you know, that rhymes!” you exclaim with a laugh.

Court stands corrected.

“See you next week, (N/N).” says Claire, stifling a grin.

You wave. “See ya’!”

When Court drives the SUV out into the street, he instinctively glances at the cafe and sees Erick taking the tray full of plates from you. He’s telling something to the customers, maybe explaining his relationship with you. The customers laugh and remark it’s sweet, while you’re blushing and trying to snatch the tray back from Erick.

Claire witnesses the scene before Court harshly steps on the accelerator, rushing the SUV away. He switches on the radio, combing through the channels that don’t have any love songs playing, and Claire slumps into the passenger seat, crossing her arms with a sigh.

“This one’s on you.” she declares dejectedly and stares out the window.

Court grimaces. “Undoubtedly so..”

Claire turns to him. “I’m on (N/N)’s side until you realize how stupid you are for stalling,” and smirks.

“I already do realize it.”

“Well, that’s not enough. Unbuckle your seatbelt, drive really fast, and then hit the brakes so hard you’ll fly out of the windshield.”

“Why are you so violent when it comes to me?”

“'Cuz you’re always asking for it.”

A/N: uh-oh~ you, the reader, have a boyfriend guy you're dating. will you and Erick last long?

ANYWAY~ good to be back! how was the chapter? hopefully yall enjoyed it and don't worry about the next chapter, i'll be posting them later or tomorrow (probably)

Here is the portal to Chapter 12- except it's NOT still in the drafts NO MORE

✨TAGLIST✨

@kat-thepoet @queenofhellhasrisen @sierrasixwife @vallyb @lyuir @yvxcy @justareaderdude @sortinghats @sortingharryshairclip

*to those who want to be in the taglist, check out the guidelines at the Masterlist pls („ಡωಡ„) thankyousomuch

[ladyalienist]

So apparently a new revision of the DSM has been published and of course the changes are as stupid as imaginable. A new name for what was called Intellectual Disability, now named Intellectual Developement Disorder (God forbid we call a spade a spade and stop using fucking euphemisms to avoid dealing with "icky" realities). The (re)introduction of Prolonged Grief Disorder (ok) and slight changes to diagnostic criteria in plenty of conditions, mainly substituting symptoms/diagnosis/disorder with problems, just to again keep on using euphemisms because people cannot fucking handle reality.

Interestingly they keep on pushing for inclusive language, muddling the already ridiculous criteria for gender dysphoria and claiming they will also discuss the impact of racism/discrimination in mental distress (and of course the latter is important but allow me to have my doubts they will actually write something that makes sense, especially outside of the USA) and a new guideline for self-harm behaviour (I have the same doubts as before).

✨Things they did not do:✨

exploring the impact of new technologies on mental developement (no changes in the ADHD diagnosis, for real?)

exploring the impact of porn

exploring the impact of social media on distress and social contagion

discuss a new paradigm for trauma-related conditions, including personality disorders (on which my position is slightly different than the one Radbr usually has, but that is not the point)

discuss different forms of treatment for various forms of distress (surely in 10 fucking years there must have been some significant innovation...)

So basically this is a useless fucking thing just to try and justify APA's existence and spending 200 euros on a manual that has little to no substance to provide.

Fucking parasites, that's what they are.

EDIT because of course I do not notice stuff and someone else does:

✨The things they did not do✨ also include:

exploring/discussing the impact of Covid, either for the long-term consequence of the infection itself or the isolation and societal changes in the pandemic period

related to Covid, the awfully big number of people whose grief process never began to begin with: people who are not processing the death of a beloved one, a significant distress that APA would keep in mind if they gave two fucks about human welfare instead of money.

[cameliawrites]

For the fic asks, people probably beat me to them but: 🤡✨🦅 and just for funsies... 🧠 for Jesper since I'd love to know some of your thoughts on him

Cat, my beloved! Have some answers (with a bonus Kaz/Jesper friendship ficlet at the end, because I love these fools)!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Maybe this errs on the sweeter side of funny, but there’s one tiny exchange in “what a mother wants” that I’m really fond of.

The backstory is that a few summers ago, I babysat quite frequently for some dear friends of mine. Their kids have an impressive collection of stuffed toys, and of course, each and every one of them has to have a name—and to my surprise and amusement, these little fuzzy pandas and sloths and such are often named after fully-grown, real-life adults in their lives. Like, first AND last name and all. 😂

SO. All that to say, I’m very very fond of this exchange between Kaz and his daughter, which I not-so-slyly slipped into a parenthetical aside near the end of the fic:

Say thank you to Aaji, Kaz had instructed her, and when Lieze complied, he’d asked her, What will you name it? Lieze had contemplated for a moment, face taking on an expression reminiscent of her father. Jesper Fahey, she’d finally declared decisively, and Kaz had groaned.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it.

Oh goodness! Okay. Um…

Well, I’ve always been fond of this line near the very end of “someone to watch over me:”

When she entered her room, she noticed that the four showy flower arrangements had been removed. Instead, atop her pillow sat a small bouquet of geraniums, clearly hand-picked, and tied with a single red ribbon.

Inej opened the small note attached to the ribbon, already grinning widely, her heart fluttering like petals tossed to the wind.

I drew the imagery of “petals tossed to the wind” from that (iconic) scene where wild geranium petals rain over her when Kaz rescues her at the Goedmedbridge in Crooked Kingdom. The simile felt quite apropos for a fic scene where Kaz is leaving a little geranium bouquet for her. 🥰

🦅Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

👖👖👖My fics usually come together in patches—I’ll have a scene here, a scene there, a scrap of dialogue, a concept of a given’s scene choreography… but then all the connective tissue between those points isn’t determined until I’m actually writing. This is part of why I mostly write one shots; I think outlining a multi-chapter fic would be a nightmare for me. 😅 (And also, the time constraints of law school make it hard for me to plan ahead that much.)

I really enjoy the freedom I have in this creative process. For me, writing fic is a total escape from the strictures of academic/professional writing, and I worry that holding myself to a strict outline would suck a bit of the joy out of it. But I know that for other people, it’s just a helpful organizational tool! I spend more time on the back end of fic writing (editing and revising and figuring out how to piece existing scenes together) than on the front end (planning and outlining). Everyone’s process is so different!

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. - Jesper

(why did this turn into a mini-fic? why do I do this? ….here, have a thing:)

Jesper is the first person to whom Kaz confesses that he loves Inej.

The moon is high and the bottle of whiskey is running dangerously low. The two of them are sprawled out on the grass of the Van Eck garden looking at the night sky, because it was suddenly very important for a very drunk Jesper to point out all the constellations Colm Fahey taught him, and to pass along the stories Colm had learned growing up on the Wandering Isle.

The first mistake Kaz makes is disputing Jesper’s account: “No, you’ve got it all wrong,” he slurs, “My Da told me and Jordie this other story about those three stars on the right…”

And because Jesper knows a bit about Jordie by now, he becomes solemn and quiet; sobered, even in his utter drunkenness, as Kaz tells the story.

“I’m sorry you lost him,” Jesper finally whispers, and for a long moment, the trickle of the water in the nearby canal is the only sound between them.

Kaz grumbles something unintelligible at first, refusing to meet Jesper’s gaze. “It’s been ten years,” he finally articulates, and Jesper can see him clenching the grass at his sides with his pale, ungloved hands. “It shouldn’t still hurt. If I were stronger…if I were stronger, it wouldn’t still hurt. I got even with Pekka Rollins. I got my revenge. What’s left?”

“What’s left?” Jesper retorts a bit too loudly, pushing himself up to sit on his elbows, then immediately collapsing back to the ground at the wave of dizziness that follows. “What’s left is that you loved him, Kaz. Like I loved my Ma—like any of us still love anyone we lost. The love doesn’t just…fade away, just because they’re gone,” Jesper spits out, gesturing wildly with his hands. “And you’re an even bigger podge than I thought if you think that makes you weak,” he finishes resolutely, waggling one drunken finger near Kaz’s face.

Kaz rolls his eyes at the insult (and the finger), but seems to let the words sink in; the expression on his face tells Jesper how intensely he’s turning them over in his mind.

“Ugh,” Jesper groans, “what are you scheming about right now?”

“I love Inej,” Kaz starts simply—and it is a simple statement; a simple truth; one that neither Kaz nor Jesper is really surprised by, even if Jesper is a smidge surprised Kaz is actually willing to admit it out loud. “But I haven’t told her. Just in case…” Kaz’s mouth clamps shut, then opens once more, as though he cannot resist the drunken spill of words from his mouth at this moment. “I don’t want to be left alone with that kind of hurt ever again.”

And the pain, the fear, that washes over Kaz’s face for an uncontrolled instant—too long to believe Kaz doesn’t feel anything, even if he tried to deny it—has Jesper sliding his hands over the pearl-handled revolvers at his hips, trying to resist the urge to reach out and do something stupid, like hug his best friend.

“You wouldn’t be left alone,” Jesper promises fiercely. “Not this time. Not ever again. I haven’t always made myself trustworthy, but tell me you trust me about that much?” he pleads.

Kaz nods slowly, his throat bobbing as his gaze remains fixed determinedly on the sky.

“Good,” Jesper breathes. “That’s—that’s good.”

When their voices fade to silence once more, something like relief rises in the quiet that they’ve left behind.

“Kaz?” Jesper can’t help but ask a few minutes later.

“Hmmph.” The hangovers are going to hurt tomorrow.

“You’ve gotta make me your best man, okay?”

Kaz shoots up in a panic. Jesper maintains his position on the ground, arms tucked lackadaisically beneath his head. “We’re not getting married, Jesper.”

“Of course you aren’t,” he laughs airily. “I mean, you’d be a real asshole if you didn’t tell her you loved her before you proposed.”

“Fuck you, Jes.”

“Love you too, Kaz.”

[nikasholistic]

Is it possible to go to your own past (marchh 2021) and live the way you wish you did? And then by the time you get to NOW, it was only a second so you catch up, having lived and changed your past?

Well, yes it's possible. It's called revision in the loa community. However, taking into account the quantum realm, mingling with your past can be tricky, especially if you're a beginner when it comes to spirituality. So instead, I'd advise to change your current circumstances and manifest whatever you want here and now. Because you can always change your reality in the present moment.✨

[justyouraveragecsmfan]

Studying A Night Before Finals With the CSM characters in Highschool

Denji

Listen, we know you love Denji and all, but seriously- him? What can I say, good luck taking a make-up test because none of you will be properly studying as long as you are together

Denji is the type to start fidgeting after barely 15 minutes, throwing away his books in frustration and scooting over to you, demanding to do something more 'fun'

Except your little 5minute breaks from your study session to turn an hour long. Tried cooking? Nope, the kitchen will be turning into a mess with you and Denji there. Taking a walk? Expect going on a full on run in the city with Denji

And if you think about having a makeout session in between? Sis we know both of you ain't gonna get out of bed after that 😔

With Denji being a hormonal teenager, you guys are pretty much gonna end up fucking anyway

But Denji has some sort of reward system instilled in him we all know

So if you really want to get some studying done, make sure to give him little rewards for his efforts.

A peck on the lips for a correct answer, a certain special promise to do anything for him if he passes and his eyes will shine ✨

He'll be sure to work hard enough to get average marks in order to collect his due reward

Aki Hayakawa

Serious and strict

What else did you expect lmao

He will make sure none of you slack off much before the finals

The type to put on a relaxing study playlist as you both huddle together to cram and revise your notes

He's the type who gets good grades by actually putting in a lot of efforts, so he'll expect you to do the same too.

But if you're not the studious type, then he'll make you study with him enough for you to atleast get average marks.

The type to push himself a bit far, you can see it when his shoulders start slumping down as his eyes get droopy, then suddenly jerking back up only to repeat again.

Coax him a little for taking proper rest by squeezing his hands gently or kissing him on cheek,

Aki will just be like, "Fuck it", and go straight to you for some cuddles.

He doesn't show it but he's such a sucker for you lmao

Don't worry, both of you will be getting Pretty good grades tho.

Reze

Studying with Reze would be a... Surreal experience

None of you will be panicking, the atmosphere would be so chill with her

She is that person who tells you to study with her but you end up doing EVERYTHING besides studying

"Reze isn't it time we star- " We don't do that here. "

You guys will go anywhere that looks interesting be prepared to go skinny dipping

She'll take you to the an enclosed opening high up that shows the full city view, and as you both sit down and relax, she'll smile and tell you to wait as she goes walks out to the bushy trees and disappears, soon coming back with multiple beer cans in arms.

Y'all spend the whole night talking shit and getting high as fuck (probably made out a few times too 👁👁)

When you wake up you find yourself in your apartment, head hurting like hell as you go take your test while still hungover.

Worst part: Reze does manage to get decent marks while you get a makeup test like hoe we both had a hangover hoW

Let's just say that it'll be a while before you decide to seal your fate in the hands of Reze again

Makima

She always ends up having the best results and she expects you to have the same

Studying with Makima will make you less worried about getting good marks for yourself and more anxious about performing up to her satisfaction

She will sit across you, completely relaxed, as she cuddles her dogs while you're double-checking the topics you've learnt, reading any extra info from your notes, and confirming it with Makima's, and the process goes on

Both of you will mostly be revising everything you've learnt, no extra learning on the last night since you already have majority of the stuff on your tips with the special study schedule Makima made a few months back , just for you

After all a while, Makima will get a bit bored but instead of outright telling you she'll do it subtly, you noticing it right away and crawling towards her for comfort

"No need to feel stressed, I know you can do it"

"I-I don't know, how can you say that so..certainly Makima? "

Makima smiles faintly, a knowing look in her eyes as they draw in closer, and you find yourself being hypnotized once again with the burning gaze they held

"Because I'm the one who's prepared you after all "

Yeah Makima scored the highest in school with you just behind her, congrats 🎉

[everythingthemoontouches]

✨Mercury in Gatorade

🪶Pick a Card cuz we all need a cosmic timeout. To think🧠 And stuff🫀

September 27th - October 19th

Pick a Card masterlist 💞💦

Choose a circle from this Olympics logo 💖

General message for the collective

Butterfly. Wings of change. Cruella de vils. Cruelty. Every villain has a backstory. If you walked a mile in their shoes you'd seethe at injustice too. Red riding hood and polka dots. Childlike innocence. The Before. Threads of fate are interconnected. The past, present and future are are not so hard to distinguish and separate from the other. They're enmeshed closer than you think. Cut some cords. Reflect. Review. Detach. Revise. Incorporate the horrors of the past and work your way through. We recreate that which we don't try to understand and feel.

Bad things happen when people feel unloved.

Desprate for food, attention, shelter, love.

Hate the crime, not the criminal.

Now pick a pile from the Olympic ring circle

🐾

1. Two little Witches 30 blue (volleyball)

declutter

Cry it out. Tears clean your eyes.

Old clothes need mending.

Broom. Sweep it away. Bees.

Housewarming puja. Do a cleanse or banishment ritual .

Childhood friends. Love. Here is the church and there is the steeple. We sure are cute for 2 ugly people.

No stop. No more ugly, negative, bullying thoughts about you. I won't stand for it.

Reprogram your brain. Listen to positive affirmations before bed.

Instead of calling yourself dumb, ugly, etc, or whatever horrid inner dialogue you have with yourself say soemthing positive.

Clear out the trash talking. Bad habits always need to be replaced by something new. The easiest xamooe I can't think of is someone trying to wake up early. Instead of hating on yourself for always being late, say I beliwve I will wake up at xyz time.

Say it like a prayer if you wish. I will wake up at 8 o clock. I will wake up at 8 o clock. (or whenever/whatever you need to) the law of attraction isn't a joke.

I don't believe you can randomly manifest a billion dollars in a day. But I do believe that if you repeat soemthing often enough you star to believe it and act towards it soon enough.

That's the secret to the law of attraction action and manifesting your hearts desire. Make room for belief. Make space for positive action. It starts in the mind. Declutter toxic thoughts, spaces, clean your room. Air it out. Write down your goals. Google peopep successfully at what you do. Use wiki how. Teach yourself things. Find out.

Research ways to do your thing.

Get rid of shit that doesn't help you. Throw it away if it's bringing you down.

In the movie dear zindagi, Alia's therapist tells her that if she wanted to go climb a mountain there's no need to start with the biggest one.

And there's no need to kill yourself to make a point. Start with a small, scaleable hill. Start with the smaller, Easier, doable task. Build your confidence and Build stamina.

Small changes won't cure All your problems magically, but it will make you feel marginally better and take away the stress of having a 100 problems.

But now since you have lesser things to deal with you'd have more mental bandwidth to devote to the more tricky challenges you're dealing with. Let's get going shall we? 😊💙

2.Violet Angel 23 (weight lifting)

tired

Hurt and comfort. Self soothe. Picking up the pieces.

Have you seen those Insta reels that go - Everything sucks. Just kidding. Everything is great. Or maybe it isn't. But you know what? Nothing is permanent.

You're on a roll coaster. Somtimes it's fun. Sometimes it's just scary. Life is a ride you can't avoid.

There's this story about a court jester who was asked by a King to write down something that would make Kingman happy when he was sad but would upset him if he read it when he was in a good mood. Now obviously this pompous little Leo, oops I mean, brat, I mean royalty figure(sorry leos) thought he did something really cool and outsmarted the jester. But nah. This guy surprised him by doing just as he was asked to. Do you know what he wrote down?

This too shall pass.

OK, so will your sadness. It's gonna fade into happiness soon enough. You've been through the worst of the storm. Now you get to enjoy the cool breeze and flowers that follow.

I saw this psotivity quote that went ' if you're going through hell keep going, why would you stop there' and if someone chirped that to me when I was frustrated, angry, miserable I'd probably clop them in the face like ' listen you rotten excuse for A Percy Jackson, I'm tired, also my backpack has a tonne of stones and hell is literally on fire+ my feet are burnt so don't you fuckin come at me with that witticism if you're not planning to put me in a wheelchair and wheel me through hell'

There's no magickal elevator that opens up when u pass a trial in hell. But I've heard that the Queen of Hell is also a Goddess of flowers and once a year she returns to the land of the living. That day isn't far off. You can go with her.

It's gonna get better for you.

All of the hurt, pain, sadness, heartbreak will be a thing of the past. Dry your tears, drink some rose milk and go to sleep. Happy days are coming.

Have you ever watched Titanic and wondered if Rose had managed to keep Jack afloat a few moments longer? How different their lives could have been...

It's either sink or swim untill help arrives. The Violet Angel Soemtimes shows up to indicate a new love, fried ship, loving relationship or some kind of help.

I know it's dark out and all that jazz, but when the ghpusl leave and the vampires go to sleep the sky turns pink

This dark night of the soul is coming to an end. You'll be happier than you've ever been. Just you wait and see!

3.Grumpy Red Fairy 8(cycling)

change and transformation

Get angry if anger is what you truly feel.

Are u tired of other people expecting you to live talk breathe act sing fart a certain way? Well it's no business of theirs.

Let the facade drop. Take off the social mask. (not the physical Covid safety ones).

Pretending is tiring and drains energy real quick.

In order to be truly loved we have to go through the terrifying ordeal of being known. 😬

People who are living a lie are always irked by those who don't chop away parts of themself to fit in.

Why cut your foot to squeeze into Cinderella's shoe? That glass slipper was certainly not meant for you . And while we're on the subject you wouldn't have been happy with Cinderella's Prince Charming either. There's something out there that's more right and made for you.

Why try so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?

Be you. Be real. Be authentic. And if that pisses some people off so mote it be.

No more lies.

Reblog to save this message.

4.i am Kali chabhi 13 (javelin throw)

Key in

Death. Change. Transformation.

Energy goes where attention flows.

Nursery rhyme - London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. (Break it down.) Build it up with iron bars,iron bars, iron bars my fair lady

Adapt or perish.Destruction. Demolition before rebuilding.

Those who resist change are the first to die out.

When the storm winds blow the stubborn oak topples but it's the willow that survives.

The old ways will not serve you in the new world. Cut your losses. And start over. Change your outlook. Accept changing circumstance and respond according to it.

Modern problems require modern solutions.

Goddess Kali hodls your hand as you cut cords with your resistance to change and she helps you walk through the flames into a new reality.born anew. Like Danaerys stepping into the flames and emerging as the mother of dragons.

Kali Maa is clearing all that is leeching off your energy, draining your strength, and abrading those relationships that cannot do anything but keep you stuck.

Test of strength. Rejoice in the purification of stale energy.

Sometimes things have to fall apart for better things to fall in place 💙 stay strong Pile 4, you'll survive 💪💯

5. ghosts of the past 42 (archery)

I don't have my glasses

Clear the debris. You have a chance to rehash old issues and clear them once and for all. Now is a good time to let it go.

Squinting.

Closure.

We forgive people so that we can release the pain and bitterness they left behind in our heart.

Move on from the past.

Your past shapes you but it doesn't have to define you. The present moment is always a choice. You are the author in a choose your own adventure. Some quests are scripted. But a whole lot of it is not.

When you take off your mask, you must turn around and confront others living a charade.

Where mad Men rule, it's considered out of fashion to be wise.

See, a lot of versions of us exist in other people's head but it's time to stop allowing others to write your narrative for you.

Maybe you have made some questionable or even embarrassing life choices s in thr past.so what? If you know better now, act better.

Yeah? Say if you're trying to give up a bad habit and x, y, z comes along talking about your gambling or street mugger days, you can actually say ' well actually that's not who I am anymore.' like Phoebe does IN friends. She got off the streets and made a whole new life for herself.

Make room for the person you are blossoming into. Flowers need space to grow.

Leveling up journey. You can escape poverty, your bad habits, challenges, addictions, etc. You have the power to rewrite your life story by virtue of actions and day tod at decisions. It's okay to cut off people who try to stop you from outgrowing them.

Old friends, acquaintances could be popping up in your life to remind you either of how far you've come or that there's still some work to be done in areas you that you had settled already.

It's okay be forgiving. Be greatful to yourself. Do past, present, future you a solid one and stay focused on your growth.

As long as you're learning from your mistakes, you're doing good 💕

We're only defeated when we stop trying

Abhi mujh may kahi Bali thodi so Hai zindagi - I still have a little fight left in me. 10 of swords energy. For some if you you're the first in a family line to do something great. Changing the course for someone . Showing people it's possible to improve ones situation. Inspiring them. But most of all believing in yourself enough to do the thing. And being gracious when you make mistakes along the way 🌱🌹

I'm so proud 🥺 of you, Pile 5. Keep going 👏you're doing so well

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

That's all the cards had to say folks. The rest is up to you ♥️good luck, and godspeed 💫

Please reblog if you think this could help someone 💕

If this is your first time on my blog, hi bestie!☺️you might like my

🐾Pick a Card masterlist

Astrology observations+ answers 🔥