#excited about a thread with you

[pastafossa]

I love you guys. I hope you know that.

Like.

Ok so I posted the new TRT chapter the other day. Obviously. And I had to force myself to do it, to click that final, 'post' button because at that last moment, this big wave of imposter syndrome hit (that had already hit on and off as I'd started working on the chapter again). And it was just this cycle of, 'It's been like 6 months since you posted a chapter or anything other than a couple one-shots and you're out of practice, I bet it's bad, it's probably terrible, I bet everyone's left and no one cares about this thing you love so why do you? What if no one likes it, you're gonna drop this and everyone's gonna god 'wtf is this, pasta? what happened?'' And so I forced myself to post it, took my meds to ensure I slept, and then kinda just bunkered down and slept/hid because I was halfway convinced that all the trauma in the previous six months had just bopped any ability I had to write.

Instead I got this outpouring, of just like, 'WELCOME BACK' and people telling me they're happy that mom is ok (which made me cry but in a good way) and they're sorry Cato passed away (more tears, but comforted tears), but also delightful jokes about the funny lines I put in or screaming over that romantic line or about missing Jane and the dynamics and comments about being eager for the next chapter, and how now I can be one of those AO3 authors with those notes of 'yeah my life blew up so I was delayed, but hey I'm back!' which... yeah. And much like when I first started TRT, I didn't... really expect that at all, and it's made me really emotional.

So if you've dropped into my ask box or the comments or the replies, seriously, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, because the excitement and love and just you all being the best little fam and continuing on this journey of TRT with me - a journey that has now included both Matt and Jane's journey, and a real life journey through a pandemic, a huge move, a passing of two of my pets, my mom's hospitalization and recovery, some heart issues, the cancellation and resurrection of the show, me meeting Charlie Cox and getting him to hold a red thread, my first wood carving event, etc - and I know I say this a lot, but you all really, really help me keep going when things get hard. I'd write TRT for nothing, I would, because I love this story and I intend to see it through, but ya'll just... I love you all tons. I'm hoping to get through the asks and fic comments and replies in the next few days, but I just wanted you guys to know that.

[earnedmagic]

I think I would be in far worse straits mentally right now if I didn’t have a job that I really believe in. how wonderful to staff a resource table at parent-teacher conferences and be able to tell beleaguered parents it’s free. It’s free. Your child can have art and phys ed classes four days a week after school, snack included, for no charge. here is everything else i can offer you.

[ephemeralove]

[ FASHION POLICE + CROWDED ]

Bumping into the tactician, Leif tries to keep her from falling too much from the collision, catching her by the shoulder.

“ Whoa! Sorry about that. ”  He quickly apologizes and pulls away once they're both upright, checking over her person to see nothing somehow went amiss. When he does, he recognizes two things.

From afar, he's pretty certain he's seen that bracelet, the one with the moon, on it before. The other, the striking color that she chooses to adorn herself with.

Leif, knowing at this point little good would come of pointing out the former, chooses instead to focus on the latter.

“ ... Katarina, right? Sorry, I remember your name more as Ms. Meadow-Brook when we were at that mansion. ”  Now that he thinks of it, that time was in Adrestia too, wasn't it?  “ You were assigned a color like that back then too, right? Did you end up liking it so much? ”

Or was it a coincidence? Perhaps she was always dressed like this and this was a moment of serendipity.

--it is surprisingly nostalgic, bumping into someone like this, and surprisingly novel for having been the one charging ahead the last time. I-I'm sorry. I was in a hurry, and... Excuse me, did you come here to become an Altean knight as well? If only she had been as sturdy and as swift, she could have spared Kris from even just one more small hurt.

"I'm alright," Katarina reassures him, the corners of her lips quirking faintly upwards. She has never been blessed with the gift of an easy smile, but gratitude makes up enough of the difference. And she is grateful, though the expression naturally fades as recognition begins to take hold. He's--

"Oh," she answers, very eloquently. The tips of her ears suddenly feel hot -- yes, he was one of the lovely Baroness' assistants during her grand event. Yes. He helped with her attempted 'attempted murder'. Yes. A hand brushes at her hair self-consciously, but it passes soon enough, swept away with a quiet exhale that is not quite a laugh, but lighter than a breath.

"...yes, that's me. I hope you've been well, Leif." From what she had heard, he'd done his job quite admirably. The conversation turns to the color of her dress, and she raises a gloved arm as if to reexamine it. "Oh... I did. Actually..." Her voice softens somewhat, as if confessing to the the least of her sins. "...I wore that same outfit to the ball last year. The color is a bit too strong to wear every day, but I saw this dress..."

...She gets the sudden, distinct feeling that she's talking too much about something boring. "...I thought it would be nice... for a special occasion, at least."

As she hastens to cut herself short, Katarina turns her attention toward Leif's ensemble instead. It proves a stark contrast to how she last remembers him, this time clad in a striking blue and wreathed in brilliant white. And an earring, too! A... ...hm?

Since then, I've embraced pearls as though they are a mark of my love...

Is it? Could he be--? Yes, she supposes Nanna's outfit does look much like his! Without so much as realizing it, her entire expression changes subtly, yet wholly, warm in full where before she had been reserved as she is to the rest of the world. So, she had marked him with her love.

"...You have a lovely earring," Katarina smiles. "It suits you." Oh, how she would love to ask Nanna if her guess is correct... but not tonight.

[clawsextended]

guys. i don’t know why this is a thing but. you know if somebody makes a meme into a thread you don’t have to reply to it.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

your favorite of my favorites: A Book Poll

okay, i have now officially seen Just Enough open tags to override my vampiric need to be explicitly invited into things, so! here are my (current) Five Favorite Books for y'all to vote on, in order of Publication Date (and incidentally the order in which i read them)

shout out to @e-b-reads and @beardedbookdragon for the recent open tags! i am inflicting this on paying this forward to @asexualbookbird and @alloreli (who i warned), and to @sixofravens-reads (who i did not).

[dangaer]

thank you to everyone who showed interest in this post! ive been brainstorming in the background and just wanted to share my thought process on how i wanted to go ahead with making the characters / routes etc.

its going to be 8 ocs / routes plus the secret ending / route. im estimating 2 women one nb 5 men but i will see where insp takes me💖.

every character will get their own post! i hope to make a template with some profile info and then notes below about their route, what kind of oto.me tropes they fall into, plot ideas for them and any info you need to know before deciding to answer their call (even if your muse isn't going to be privy to it) :^)

after all the chara templates are out i am considering making an mc template so that you guys can have some fun and make some (we can talk abt it more in dms it wouldnt be an expectation but I want to be as interactive as possible) & release the template the characters have incase you wish to go for the what if seperate route (aka instead of joining the line to meet these people, you can be their coworker!)

while this may take some time im absolutely HYPED to know you guys are just as invested as i am and i cannot wait to deliver on it!

[herenvibing]

cr3 is gonna end and the pc’s still feel like the same people to me :|

(crcritical content in the tags feel free to skip)

[aletheialed]

Right now, wine glass in hand and staring vacantly into the dark corners of the room in which he dwells - Barok can't help but think about his brother. To think about Klint during hard times, the man who he's always admired so much, has always come naturally to him - but it can't bring him any comfort now.

The truth is, Barok doesn't know what he should feel more betrayed about. The fact that the brother he'd wanted to emulate all his life was nothing but a killer, who's actions resulted in the ending and ruining of so many lives, including Barok's own? Or... is it that, until the very end, Klint was too afraid to share that horrible truth with him, even when that fear allowed him to be controlled into committing the most heinous acts imaginable?

It makes him want to laugh with a bitterness he hasn't felt in years. It makes him feel ill; desperate and angry and like a fraying rope about to snap. Perhaps it's sinful, and a sign of Barok's own weak character, that Klint's lack of trust in him might be what hurts the most. Had he thought Barok would break under the weight of the truth, and sought to protect him from that fate? What's worse is that Barok doesn't know how he would've reacted deep down. What's the scarier thought - that Barok would've turned away in despair and been unable to carry on just as his brother feared, or that he would stand with Klint, perhaps even turning a blind eye to his crimes...?

...There's no point in thinking about it now. But if he doesn't think about Klint, then there's no shortage of other things to take his place at the forefront of his mind. Such as the true identity of the Reaper, and how Barok had been complicit in his crimes for the longest time - allowing himself to be used and manipulated like a puppet on a string, even when he didn't see the full extent of it all.

His whole life, these past ten years in which he thought he'd endured so much, all for the sake of the people of London... what were they all for?

When he hears the knock on the door, it's tempting to ignore it entirely - he barely has the energy to stand, anyway. He doesn't know who it could possibly be, considering everything, but... in the end, he rises like a man possessed, and finds himself walking to open the door as if in a trance. What he sees when the door opens is the last thing he expects.

"Mr... Naruhodo...? You... pray tell, what are you doing here at this hour?"

@tenacquity ( starter! )

[foxedthecards]

((Just sitting and thinking about the muses that Jonas has befriended and interacted with that have some kind of hidden side to them, supernatural, magic, etc that hasn't been revealed yet in threads and how Jonas would eventually react to it being revealed. Honestly he's good at reasoning unusual things away even if they're right there in front of his face what can I say? He just assumes the muse is just a regular person and it's something screwy going on with his head or it's the alcohol or something. But then presented with something that's more solid and can't be explained away? Depending on how it happens I think there'd probably be the usual initial reactions of being shocked, startled, surprised and what have you but after he'd gotten through that...oh my God. This boy would be so EXCITED, so curious, amazed, awestruck! Can you imagine loving stage magic all your life and then presented with proof that magic and the supernatural is all real? Or that the fantastic stuff that only seems to happen in movies or stories, that shit's right there happening in front of him? And I get soft-hearted about it too because it wouldn't change the fact that Jonas would still not think of them any other way except as someone he deeply loves and cares about. We're talking fucktons of acceptance of who they are, support and encouragement, really whatever positive interactions that muse might want or need it would be there because Jonas is just that kind of boy. And I feel very tender about it all and I can't wait for it to happen. Anyways that's some rambly thoughts going through my head this morning))

[ghostlycod]

“I have this scene in my head for my fic that I really love but i don’t feel like writing all of the other stuff to get to it.”

I see this comment like 5 times a day in fic writing spaces lol

a scene that you don’t want to write is a scene you don’t want to read. don’t write stuff you don’t want to read.

me, personally: wait until the scenes that get you to that first initial scene you were excited about are just as interesting as that scene too. it won’t be the first, second, or third thing you think of. if u have a scene you really want to write, write that, and keep writing only those exciting scenes that come to you. eventually you have a million interesting scenes for your fic and they become puzzle pieces for you to arrange and then eventually the strings come together and you realize you really do have an interesting way to get to that original scene, and you’re just as excited to write it, if you haven’t already written it when you were brainstorming other scenes earlier in the writing process that you didn’t even realize could carry your story like that.

[of-wine-and-blood]

a lot has changed since lest had last seen mel medarda but as the vastaya walked inside the room, her digitigrade feet softly clicking on the floor, things felt more or less familiar to her. except mel herself, which mattered the most, she supposed. another reason why the other woman was leaving soon, and lest was grateful that she decided to call her here—though if not, the vastaya would turn up at the port tomorrow, nevertheless. because mel didn't deserve to hurt alone. with the kind of pain that lest ( despite being a healer ) couldn't help her with. still, there was something she could do. ❝i know you're hurting. and i can't fix that. but i can refuse to let you hurt alone.❞

her eyes scanned the room as she walked to her seat, the scent of wine in mel's hand filling up her nostrils. noxian port? mel must really be trying hard to reconnect with her roots if she was drinking that… when @ascensionism began to speak, lest didn't interrupt her, not even when her words trailed off or her voice became slightly slurred. she listened intently, the tip of her tail twitching slightly. she was good at listening. a longer pause came and lest finally opened her mouth, her slender hand reaching for mel's one but at the same time mel's hands already came up to her face. lest retracted her own, pretending to puff her coat instead. ❝you called,❞ she simply replied. ❝and i'm glad i can be of help, however small that help might be.❞

upon mel's last words, lest blinked—once, twice—as if she couldn't believe them. ❝is that... is that an offer to travel to noxus with you?❞ her tone was hesitant. lest was good at observation but maybe she read the interaction wrong. not like she had anything much holding her down in piltover. and she wanted to help mel. but that wasn't the problem. ❝am i the right person for it? i mean... will i be of use to you there?❞ a pragmatic question but she didn't really want to dive into the emotional aspect of that matter.

[windsfavored]

@roleplay-abiogenesis2 &&. said... "are we actually doing the right thing?" - Cyno, main verse (can relate to our old main verse thread, or be something entirely new!)

he's  standing  at  the  entrance  of  the  ruins,  arms  crossed  and  back  to  his  companion.  a  reckless  move,  considering  the  way  calling  the  circumstances  between  them  TENSE  feels  like  an  understatement  so  severe  it  borders  on  laughable  —  but  of  course,  ren  doubts  he  has  anything  to  fear.  the  general  mahamatra  has  witnessed  firsthand  just  how  unnervingly  DURABLE  he  truly  is;  even  if  cyno  wished  to  attack  him  from  behind,  the  only  thing  he  would  truly  accomplish  is  exhausting  himself.  physical  pain  hardly  registers  to  the  wanderer  these  days;  it's  just  another  form  of  stimuli,  mundane  as  all  the  rest.  there  was  a  time  when  he  once  saw  it  as  something  to  avoid  —  though  that  fear  inevitably  decayed  alongside  his  wide-eyed  innocence  and  enthusiasm  for  the  world  he  found  himself  tossed  so  haphazardly  into.  the  doctor's  experiments  served  as  a  sword  to  the  throat  of  his  naiveté;  lopping  head  from  shoulders  —  an  EXECUTION  carried  out  with  clinical  efficiency.

outside,  the  storm  still  rages.  wind  and  sand,  a  howling  blur  of  pale  orange  —  impossible  to  traverse,  impossible  to  see  through.  he  was  really  hoping  by  the  time  they  found  the  exit,  the  weather  would  have  improved,  but  it  seems  yet  again  MISFORTUNE  has  decided  to  make  the  wanderer  its  plaything.

❝  ... ❞  he's  a  bit  SURPRISED  when  cyno  suddenly  speaks.  ren  had  been  expecting  the  general  mahamatra  to  wait  out  the  storm  glaring  contemptuously  at  the  back  of  his  head  all  the  while.  truly,  he's  still  struggling  to  wrap  his  mind  around  the  source  of  their  CONFLICT.  his  identity,  his  inhumanity  —  they  are  disconcerting  things  to  be  sure.  it's  a  fact  the  wanderer  is  aware  of  better  than  anyone;  the  truth  always  leads  to  suffering,  almost  as  if  it's  akin  to  a  CURSE  that  he  must  bear  in  silence.  still,  he's  always  known  cyno  to  be  a  fairly  level-headed  individual  —  at  least  when  it  comes  to  matters  of  personal  values.  (  he's  even  offered  ren  advice  in  the  past.  )  it  is  for  precisely  that  reason  why  the  wanderer  can't  UNDERSTAND  why  he's  suddenly  taken  to  acting  so  erratically.   ❝  who  knows. ❞  he  says  aloud,  voice  gone  toneless  from  mental  fatigue.  ❝  i  thought  JUDGEMENT  was  supposed  to  be  your  thing. ❞

he  has  half  a  mind  to  simply  leave  it  at  that,  but  if  he  continues  glaring  at  the  storm  outside  he  fears  that  he  may  very  well  go  mad.  ❝  right  or  wrong ...  i  never  asked  to  be  made.  if  that  act  of  creation  is  considered  a  sin,  you  can  take  it  up  with  my  mother. ❞  the  word  comes  drenched  in  a  thick  layer  of  sarcasm  —  as  if  ren  is  only  able  to  painlessly  refer  to  her  as  such  if  he  does  so  IRONICALLY.  ❝  my  existence  is  ETERNAL ...  you've  seen  for  yourself  just  how  futile  trying  to  extinguish  it  can  be.  the  only  right  or  wrongs  i  can  PERSONALLY  claim  ownership  over  are  what  i  choose  to  do  with  it. ❞

...  and  in  that  regard,  the  wanderer  has  no  shortage  of  both.

[volamus]

he  recalls  having  once  witnessed  a  painting.  it  was  in  the  personal  collection  of  an  eccentric  older  man,  burdened  with  great  wealth  yet  starved  for  company.  even  so,  it  had  taken  volo  no  small  amount  of  effort  to  talk  his  way  into  seeing  the  piece  —  the  canvas  was  old  and  delicate,  the  paint  dry  enough  to  peel.  (  he  kept  it  hidden  away,  in  a  room  where  no  sunlight  would  ever  stain  it.  )  despite  the  decay,  it  still  depicted  a  stunning  sight  to  behold.  a  tree  —  grander  than  anything  the  merchant  had  ever  laid  his  eye  upon,  shimmering  with  vibrant  hues.  divine  in  nature,  surely;  there  wasn't  a  doubt  in  his  mind  about  that.  however,  no  matter  how  meticulously  volo  poured  over  his  research,  whispers  of  the  all-mother  remained  few  and  far  between.

the  colors  that  swathe  her  actual  form  make  that  once-glorious  painting  appear  dull  and  clumsy  by  comparison.  (  fitting; mortal  hands  could  never  capture  her  likeness.  )  volo's  legs  tremble  —  as  if  his  body  instinctually  wishes  to  sink  to  its  knees  in  reverence.  a  child  rendered  meek  and  obedient  before  their  parent.  the  merchant  inhales  a  shaking  breath,  fingers  curling  into  fists.  he  tries  to  will  his  very  heart  to  cease  its  frantic  fluttering  with  little  success.  tries  to  square  his  jaw  and  tilt  his  head  back  —  reminding  himself  that  he  is  the  wielder  of  pokemon,  the  one  whose  veins  run  with  ancient  blood,  the  mortal  who  tricked  a  god.

❝  life  incarnate ...  are  you  here  to  punish  me?  ❞  a  rueful  smile  adorns  his  lips  as  he  speaks,  as  if  some  part  of  him  had  always  considered  (  no,  accepted  )  the  possibility.

@loveachther &&.  liked  for  a  STARTER.

[diivineray]

I did a reply !! yay !! I meant to do so much more, but I ended up on a call with my friends so ndklfnlskd. I'll be working on stuff tomorrow I promise !!

[deathsconsort]

@lovesaid cassian said, "you are so bad at this. it’s cute."

her mouth drops open in feign offense and starts laughing. “hey,” she playfully jabs him with her elbow. “this is my first time even holding drumsticks. i know it’s hard to imagine, but i can’t be perfect at everything.” the last time nesta had tried her hand at an instrument was when she was seven years old. her mother had insisted she take up piano lessons and when she had several sessions and still wasn’t improving, her mother and instructor both agreed she didn’t have the talent for it. which was just fine with nesta, she preferred dancing to music rather than playing it. though when cassian had offered to try to teach her drums for fun she didn’t want to say no. these days she took any opportunity she could to spend time with him.

“you make it look so easy.” she's perched on his lap in front of his drum set and trying her best to not let that fact distract her. her eyes follow the pattern on the drums cassian had demonstrated earlier and tries again to mimic the pattern along with trying to remember the beat in which he hits them with. with the amount of times she spends staring at him while he plays she’s surprised she can’t play from memory alone. she winces from her own playing, the sound reminding her of a toddler banging on pots and pans. “i've seen kids play better than this. show me again?”

[misslisamiray]

Yesterday started off pretty shitty. First off, I didn't bring my Rick Bear with me to the blood center because it looked like it was going to rain more & I didn't want to risk him getting damaged. Adding insult to injury (or rather, the other way around judging by my sunburn 😅) the rain stopped & the sun came out in full force. So I could have definitely brought him.

Then the blood center was... not successful. More about that later maybe. At least the bruising is super minimal, & since they weren't able to get anything out of me, there's no deferral time.

But my day started to get better with the news there's FINALLY a release date for the RaM anime. I'm so excited for that, and it's just over a month away now! Then I decided to take a walk to the Goodwill about a mile away, and look!

After having zero luck finding anything at two Savers near me, I now have the start of my Rick cosplay!!! Yes, I got both shirts, but the first is the one I'll be using.