#i guess to live is just another kind of poetry

[symphony-calamity]

Okay but. "It is possible to survive this but not unaltered" as a positive thing. Discuss.

[writeyouin]

Hi. May I request a mtmte Megatron being shy and reserved about his feelings for his S/O and burdened with guilt as usual but the S/O is actually really flirtatious and affectionate. Basically s/O trying to woo Megatron with (bad) pickup lines and being absolutely smitten to a comical level. And also public display of affection if possible. ( mtmte Megatron is so adorably soft boy and submissive my heart melts)

MTMTE Megatron X Reader – Smitten

A/N – I was just looking for something to write on impulse and I managed to turn this one into a little drabble. I hope everyone enjoys it. I went a little less comical and a bit more sweet.

Warnings – None

Rating – T

You took a moment to observe Megatron, sitting in the rec-room booth on what was supposed to be a date. He hadn’t spoken in some time and while you were accustomed to his lapses in speech, it did not look like he was mentally composing a poem or musing anything pleasant. If you had to guess, you would say that he was once again stuck in the past, finding himself undeserving of anything even remotely pleasant.

“You’re feeling guilty,” You commented, your tone just short of being playful, as if you recognised the weight of Megatron’s feelings but were trying to help with some levity.

“I…” Megatron considered denying the accusation, but what was the point? You saw right through him. “I am.”

“We’ve talked about this,” You said, grabbing his servo and kissing the knuckle, glad when he helped you manoeuvre his body where you wanted it. “You can’t spend your life feeling guilty. What matters is that you’re trying to make amends for your actions now.”

As usual, Megatron became putty in your hands. Most times, he didn’t believe he deserved you, but it was hard to argue against your kind words, gentle caresses, warm kisses, and an open heart. You were the greatest thing to ever happen to him, and so when you told him that it was his actions in the present that mattered, he was inclined to believe you. It was that sort of attitude that ensured he never gave up or thought about returning to his old ways.

Megatron had spent centuries hating. To love was different. It was much harder to cherish and nurture a good relationship than it was to burn down everything around him, but it made life worth living and the rewards for his efforts were never-ending.

“Of course,” Megatron said agreeably. “You are right, my sweet. I will continue trying to build a better life.”

“That’s good to hear, Gentle Heart.”

Megatron warmed at the pet name. Until you, nobody had ever called him anything of the sort. He kissed his digit and pressed it against your head, relishing the way you looked in the ambient lighting of the small rec room.

If he strained his audials, he would hear the judgement coming from some of the surrounding bots, but what did they matter? It was like you often reminded him, he had not forced you to be with him, and normal couples were free to enjoy such public displays of affection.

There was a time, at the start of your relationship when everything was kept private and Megatron would not even consider walking too close to you lest people make their judgements.

Now, he took your hand in his and whispered how much he loved you, only too eager to give as much praise as he received. He laughed through your truly terrible pick-up lines, recited poetry loudly for you, and found other ways to show his affection.

For the first time in his life, he was happy. For the first time in his life, he was free. And, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t alone. What a wonderful way to spend one’s existence; alongside another whom he loved.

[sweeterelease]

no me digas que no

jegulus microfic I tiny gift for @alexsays-no I wc: 867

James likes singing to him.

Everyone knows James Potter indulges in a little makeshift karaoke from time to time, most times, nearly every fucking day. Regulus can hear him in the shower, while cooking, working, cleaning, reading, he could really just be existing and still feel the need to hum or sing along to whatever song his mind has fixated on that week.

Regulus isn’t really sure he gets music the same way James does, he prefers his poetry written dry on paper, it grants him the power of bestowing his own sense to it rather than sticking solely with the one created by instrumental. Regardless, he can appreciate James’ soft voice humming into his ear, whispering lyrics like he’s confessing his crimes to Regulus, even when most fo the time he can’t understand a word serenaded to him.

“Oye mi amor, no me digas que no,” James’ low voice melts into the back of Regulus’ neck as his hands wrap around his torso, he’s slightly rocking them from side to side to the muffled soft rock melody coming from the living room.

Regulus has heard this song before, enough to actually recognize it. James’ music taste doesn’t shy away from that many genres, so he rarely finds himself obsessed with the same song twice, but this, Regulus knows, this is his song, —he suspects James has subconsciously assigned it to him— it’s the only one James always, always sings when it’s just the two them.

“…y vamos juntando las almas,” James follows, Regulus can feel the grin against his shoulder. His frame completely secured by the other’s larger one, it feels like home, always has.

Regulus turns off the water after he’s done rinsing his hands and walks over to the kitchen island where he left his cup of tea. James hangs from his back and waddles right behind him. After a quick sip, Regulus places the cup down and leans back to rest his head on James’ right shoulder. He feels light kisses flutter against his cheek.

“Hello,” Regulus offers.

“Hi love,” James replies, letting go of his sides just to reach for his hands on the counter.

“What’s this?”

James chuckles, “A hug?”

Regulus sinks into it, welcoming. The embrace feels content, almost overwhelmingly so, “You're happy.”

Another chuckle, “I am.”

They both know it’s genuine, he can feel his own body feed from James’ energy, “Anything in particular?”

“Just this, you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter,” Regulus laughs.

James is silent for a moment, pondering. And then Regulus feels a gentle nibble at his earlobe, “Right, I forget annoyance got us here .”

He laughs again. Regulus seems to just laugh whenever he’s with James, it was strange and confusing at first, now he rather likes it. Regulus frees one if his hands to lift it up by the other’s head, fingers curling around unruly hair. James continues rocking them back and forth to the music, serenading him again when the chorus comes.

“I know this song,” Regulus points out.

“Do you?,” James hums back.

“It’s the one you always sing,” —for me, he ends up not saying.

James makes a pleased affirmative noise, agreeing with him. And because Regulus is always right, he says, “Well, it’s kind of your song. In my mind, at least.”

I noticed. He thinks it’s adorable, but he’d like to know more about this recurrent tune, “What does it mean?”

A beat, “You know, for a native-level in french, you’re pretty shit at all the other romance languages.”

James must think he’s so funny, hilarious. Regulus huffs and turns his head just enough to glare at him.

“Excuse you? French is the superior one anyway.”

James lets out a proper cackle at that, head rolling back, “Not in a million years.”

“So, do you secretly hate me? Is that what the lyrics say?”

James hums again to the music, eyes creasing at the corners from the grin pulling at his cheeks, “Close guess.”

See, while Regulus does have an —justifiable, thank you— inclination for the french language, he thinks the rest of the romance languages aren’t that bad. At least spanish, which he recognizes in the song, can be quite similar to his mother tongue sometimes. Hence, Regulus gets a hint that the song isn’t about hatred at all.

“I secretly hate you, too,” he whispers, right by James’ ear.

“I know.”

Regulus’ gaze drops down to James’ smiling mouth, his lips look inviting, he wants to bite. “Not much of a secret now,” Regulus can feel his own lips stretch into a small smile too.

“Shame.”

James closes his eyes as the song reaches its climax, tightening his hold around Regulus while he sings along to the bridge.

Oye mi amor, no me digas que no, y vamos juntando los cuerpos…

Because Regulus is very much not pretty shit at other latin-derived languages, he catches the end of that last chorus. He also decides to obey.

Sue him, perhaps Regulus does like spanish, but he knows James rather enjoys french as well.

[riiwrites]

Do you have any tips or advice on writing,your way with words truly is amazing-♦️

thank you sm lovely anon, this is such a sweet compliment 🥹

i’m not good with tips or writing tbh, like one day I just started this blog and started writing and now I’m here I guess 😭 (funfact i acc ran an IT fanfiction blog back when I was like 11 this is not my proudest moment I shouldn’t have even been on this app)

i’m a big fan of english literature and always have been, im taking higher english next year for s5 and I’ve learned quite a bit tbh that I think can help!

1. my teacher always tells me to not repeat the same words over and over again. like for example :

“character watches s/o walk into the room with their bright smile and bright eyes”

instead, you could say :

“character watches s/o walk into the room with their beaming smile and bright eyes”

personally in my opinion repetition is good for both writing and poetry but using more adapted words can really elevate your writing. but that’s just my opinion on what it does for me and i try my best not to repeat the same words consistently. if you struggle to think of more advanced words you can use google because that’s quite literally what i do but you can also use a thesaurus, they’re quite helpful i used to use them in primary school for writing :)

2. another tip i can think of is using techniques of writing, this also goes for poetry too (as im currently having to study for my english exam on poetry). there’s a few techniques you can use in writing fanfiction such as

- metaphors (an implied comparison eg. “my mum has a heart of gold” - meaning my mum is a kind hearted woman. she is)

- similes (similar to a metaphor but it’s a direct comparison, typically used in the forms of “like a” or “as” eg. “she was as cold as ice” - meaning that her personality and demeanour is rather cold and stern.)

- personification (similar to a metaphor also but this connects human characteristics such as personalities or emotions to a non living thing eg. “the trees danced in the wind” - trees cant dance like a human can, but the way they bristle in the wind can make it seem like they’re dancing)

i know some of these people would’ve already heard about but i thought I’d add in the examples and explanations just to clarify it for people who are confused and want to learn about it

this isn’t a MUST you have to include in your writing or anything but these are just tips on ways you can elevate your writing and personification is specifically good for describing scenery so the reader can feel more engaged within the story :). these are only a few of the techniques i use so if you wish to hear about more please do feel free to shoot me an ask.

3. one last tip that comes from me in my experience of writing is actually educating yourself by reading some writings you’re interested in. one thing I’ve learned about writing is that you can gain experience by becoming influenced by other people’s writings on any part of the internet. not like plagiarism of course but i mean you can become inspired by the way they write and adapt your own writing style.

i’ve learned so much from my beautiful and amazing moots and they’re all just so talented, im forever grateful and proud for each and one of them :)

but i hope this helps ♦️ anon, and YOU are my first official emoji anon HEHEHE SO THANK YOU!! and i will be adding more to this tip list if i think of anything.

and please remember, anyone can be a writer. it doesn’t matter wherever you’re a natural or if you’re “inexperienced”. we all engage and write in different styles and ways and that’s what making writing such a beautiful thing to contribute in. so don’t give up and if you need anything at all don’t be afraid to message me, i hope you’ve given this a read and again, i hope it helps. <3

[oswildin]

“WELL I GUESS THAT’S WORTH A LOOK…”

FIC MASTERLIST // PLAYLISTS

GENERAL COMMISSIONS OPEN

ART PORTFOLIO // KO-FI

(DO NOT REPOST MY WORK, ART OR FICS).

i mainly write for loki (mcu), but have one shots for other fandoms and characters like star wars, the boys, the last of us (hbo), the amazing spider-man, doctor who and moon knight.

My thoughts on Loki (and related media) compilation

about me

name: gigs or oswald // pronouns: she/they // age: 21+ // personality: INFP // autistic

active fandoms: marvel (mcu), doctor who, the boys tv, the mandalorian, the last of us (hbo), house of the dragon

favourite characters: loki, sylvie, nebula, agatha harkness, wanda maximoff, kate bishop, yelena belova, moon knight, tasm!peter parker, clara oswald, the master (dhawan & missy), the doctor, (fave is 12)

favourite albums: artpop (lady gaga), the family jewels (marina), vessel (twenty one pilots), too weird to live (p!atd), rise & fall (chappell roan), all my demons (aurora)

favourite song of all time: take on me - a-ha

hobbies: making music, writing poetry, making fanfics/povs, drawing (new to digital art making)

other general info: i’m autistic, have been a tumblr user since the golden days - yes i lived through superwholock lmao. love comedies (rom-coms are a guilty pleasure). favourite marvel film is, ofc, thor ragnarok (comfort film). been a loki stan since 2012/2013. favourite sit-coms have to be superstore, the office us and modern family. studied media analysis.

why is my blog called ‘what a world for a one finned goldfish’?: it’s a reference to gus from moon knight, steven’s one-finned goldfish, but also that in a way I feel like a one-finned goldfish in this weird, scary world made for neurotypicals lol.

what is my blog?: a mess lmao. i mostly come on here to reblog, stare at gifs for hours, appreciate peoples writing, fangirl and occasionally write or make stupid text posts and art.

polite asks and disclaimers

- this blog is a safe space. dni if you’re a bigot (ableist, homophobic, transphobic, racist… you get the idea, it is not welcome here.)

- no fandom drama, no ship wars, i frankly do not care nor wish to argue with strangers on the internet! personally, i think the whole thing is silly. but go off besties, just not on my posts please! be respectful. lokius & sylki shippers welcome, just be kind. i am a multi-shipper. I’m within my right to block whoever I wish for whatever reasons I have, just like everyone else. it’s about curating my online experience.

- i’m open to discussion and conversation, not arguments, especially when it comes to certain characters or media or whatever. it’s okay that we have different opinions. it’s okay that you may not like something and i do. i promise, it is okay.

- please do not repost without permission - as in, copy and paste… or “steal” if you will. if you are inspired by my work, credit me. that’s all i ask.

- most of my writing is sfw and gender neutral unless specified, i do not write smut. i just can’t do it, hats off to those who write it eloquently and elegantly, truly!

- let’s all be kind to one another.

BANNERS ARE MY OWN ARTWORK

[closedrop]

So far I am 25 hours into Crisis Core and learned many things

(Crisis Core spoilers and theories ahead)

- Genesis has a Bible (most likely related to LOVELESS and his theories) and I joined his fan club

- Sephiroth has a fan club with “images that your average Sephiroth fan could never ever dream of seeing” apparently which is a bit worrying but I am also a Sephiroth fan club member so

- Tseng knows Aerith somehow? Willing to bet this is either related to her having been in I think Shinra facilities for a while. Orrrr something love related(?)

- Cid is in space training :) (I love Cid.)

- Cissnei is a character, don’t know much about her but she’s there and I don’t THINK she’s in the original FFVII but if she is she’s hidden because I dragged Cloud around on SO MANY side quests. (Cissnei your chances of living do not look good in the future I’m not gonna lie)

- I believe Gongaga is still intact and hasn’t yet been destroyed by theeee Mako Reactor I think it was sooo that’s probably gonna be an important plot point if that happens

- At least two of the SOLDIERS are gay for Zack or at least find him attractive in some way (which if they are, good for them, good for them)

- The fact that once you’re in the science dept. you can’t leave because they deal with too much sensitive information, that’s a really nice detail and I really love it. I learned that a few days ago I think and I really appreciate that because it makes Hollander’s stuff make more sense I guess from what little I do know

- I lied about Sephiroth he’s not the comedy character it’s Genesis, my man just shows up, spouts poetry(It’s always LOVELESS) and then dips. “My friend, will you fly away now. To a world that abhors you and I 🤓” (I’m sorry Genny ily I’m in your fan club 😞)

- Apparently nobody likes Angeal because from what I saw there was one person in his fan club and it’s getting shut down because she’s too depressed to do anything about it (unless Zack intervenes, which can’t be possible anymore because I missed that chance, sorry Angie 😞)

- There’s a lot of definitely not relevant small details(lie) Like Zack’s whatever limit break that he uses when you haven’t gotten the character’s image in the DMW yet. It’s just cross slash, which is Cloud’s 2nd limit break in the original FFVII (I can’t say anything about the new one since I haven’t played it yet- but yeah) Another one being Aerith’s bow, since Zack buys it. (I’m sure there’s more I can’t think of right now but yeah)

- Zack is 6’1” and his hobby is squats apparently which makes sense but I figured he’d more of a casual baking kind of guy. (Though he’d also be the kind of guy to burn like Kraft Mac n cheese so I don’t know if I’d trust him in the kitchen ever-)

- Zack got doxed lol (and Yuffie got his address)

- Zack the puppy.

- Wutai spies are very bad at being spies

- Every child is a con artist (except for that one that one time)

- Zack, master treasure hunter (Me because I have spent most of my time doing just missions and side quests-)

[iwantacoolusernameman]

Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

【Poetry Confession】

It was another one of those days. For hours you'd already been sitting on your living room floor, strumming and plucking the strings of your guitar, surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper. Beneath you on the floor your notebook, messy handwriting on the pages that showed chords and lyrics and a lot of question marks. Frustrated you sank your head into your palms, letting out probably the deepest sigh anyone had ever sighed. Perhaps, just maybe, it was time for a break. Clearing your head was part of the creative process, right? That's what all those who made it big said all the time but you didn't feel like you could afford that yet.

Just when you were about to place your calloused fingertips on the strings again your doorbell rang, forcing you to put the guitar aside after all. Who would come over this early on a sunday? You opened the door and revealed the familiar face of your friend Keiji looking at you with his usual expression of indifference. Of course, who else but him? Also correction, your friend you swore to your other friends you didn't have a huge crush on. Clearly nobody believed you but they were still kind enough to keep the secret from him. Or so you hoped.

Your heart made an unexpected jump upon seeing his frame at the door and for a moment you stood there frozen and tongue-tied, just staring at him.

"What are you doing here?" You finally asked after an awkward moment of silence.

A faint smile formed on his lips at the surprise in your tone.

"Hello to you too," he answered and peeked over your shoulder before looking at you again. "Do you have time? Mind if I come in?"

"No, yeah. I mean you can come in. Of course." Your nervous chuckle made you wanna slap yourself as if tripping over your words wasn't embarassing enough already. You finally stepped aside to let him inside and watched as he casually took off his shoes at the entrance and hang up his coat like he'd done so many times before, his movements casual as if he was entering his own house.

"Why didn't you call?" You wanted to know as you both walked into your living room, your voice a bit higher and quicker than usual. Mentally you cursed your racing heart.

"I guess I should've. I wasn't really planning on coming over to be honest, I was close by and it was a very.. spur-of-the-moment decision. Sorry if it's an inconvenient time."

"No not at all! I needed a break anyway." Mentally you cursed yourself one more time as another nervous chuckle escaped you. "From playing guitar I mean."

"Working on a new song?" He asked as his eyes landed on the mess on your floor.

You nervously bit the inside of your cheek and you let out a deep sigh. "Trying to work on a new song.. that's more like it."

"At least you're trying," he reassured you as he picked up your notebook. "Can I?"

"Uhm.." you hesitated, remembering in horror the lyrics on the page you left open. Out of all people and all times why did he have to show up now? His timing couldn't have been worse.

"I suppose.." Why did I say that?!

Your heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell onto the page and you wanted to rip the notebook out of his hands but you felt frozen in place.

"Do you want water or anything?" You suddenly asked him in hopes of distracting him from your notebook.

"No, I'm good, thanks." His eyes didn't leave the notebook once as he answered and you could see the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Your heartbeat quickened as you tried to find ways to distract him only to realize that there was no point in it. He must have read halfway through already by now.

Finally he looked up and you could feel how hot your body suddenly got as you were nervously waiting for what he'd say next, only to be caught off guard when he didn't comment on your writing at all.

"You rearranged," he stated instead and you looked at him with confusion.

"Oh.. yeah, I did.. you've got a keen eye.. or good memory." Another nervous chuckle, another mental curse directed at yourself.

"Both," he answered in a matter-of-fact tone and you noticed that he hadn't stopped smiling since he'd read your lyrics.

Gosh, that smile.

Your friends had told you that he seemed a lot more smiley than his usual self whenever you were around and how badly you wanted that to be true but you couldn't rule out the possibility that your friends had just been messing with you since they knew about your crush.

"Yeah?" You replied absentmindedly just because you didn't know what else to say.

"Last time we met you also hadn't destroyed your fingertips from playing so much guitar yet."

His fingers reached for your wrist to inspect the damage on your fingertips more closely.

"It's just calloused," you shrugged, your casual tone doing an excellent job at hiding your hammering heart. He let go of your hand, his gaze lingering on you for a while longer than it needed to. He needed to leave. Or else you weren't sure how long your poor heart could handle having him this close with just the two of you.

"Why are you really here anyway?" Your voice came out sharper than you intended.

He raised a brow and dropped his smile, surprised by your sudden change in demeanour.

"Can't I visit my friend?"

"Yeah but- I don't know, usually you give me a call before coming over. Needless to say, you haven't come to my place in ages. And now you just show up unannounced because 'you were around'?"

"Maybe I came because I haven't been here for a while?" He suggested which got you thinking you were totally overreacting.

How embarassing.

But how could you help it with the way your heart was acting up because of him? You didn't answer and to your relief (or so you thought) he let go of your wrist and changed the topic.

"Your lyrics-"

"Do not give me feedback on it!" You cut him off, sounding almost desperate.

"What if I have good feedback?" He inquired. "Wouldn't that be motivating?"

You thought about it for a moment. Perhaps it was better to just accept the situation you were in. He'd already seen the words either way and overall, he couldn't know they were about him anyway, right?

"I guess positive feedback is allowed," you muttered while avoiding to look directly in his eyes. "If you have anything else to say though, don't."

And there it was again, that damn smile of his.

"Alright."

You sat down on the floor, picking up your guiatar. The silence in the room felt unbearable to you as his focus shifted on the pages again, skimming over your words. Your nervousness made it hard to sit still, you needed to keep your hands busy with something, so you started plucking on the strings of your instrument. You started mentally reciting what you wrote, suddenly cringing at every word. Mortified, your fingers came to halt on the strings. You couldn't help but worry if he'd somehow figure out those words were about him

I wish I could sleep but instead

I am lost in your dreams

I'll take any means

If it means it's you I get to keep

Despite your embarassement you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over to his features. Maybe it was the way his brows furrowed ever so slightly over his frames. He was so concentrated and focused on your silly little piece of writing that it tugged at your heartstrings and left you feeling enchanted by his mere existence.

Floating sun

Filled to the brim

With golden light

(I watched the laughter spill from your lips)

Oh what a might

Anything grim

Had no choice but to run

Upon hearing your hymn

For a moment you thought how you maybe did want him to figure it out. He was a clever guy. Someone who could read between the lines. Maybe you'd been too obvious anyway and he was just being nice about it and pretending not to notice. Wishful thinking was all you dared to dream of.

But we'll never dance under the kitchen lights

You'll never braid my hair or call me lover

Wish you never took me to those heights

Now I'm stuck in your forever

Miss me with those dark blue eyes

For they'll never be mine, ever

He cleared his throat with a fist infront of his lips, a pathetic excuse to cover up the the small smile that wanted to escape him. His eyes found yours again and he sat down infront of you.

"Can I say something?" He put the open notebook on the ground.

"Something good or something bad?" You asked nervously.

"Hmm.. neutral. Just an opinion."

"Oh no.." the worry and horror was written all over your face. He chuckled at your exaggerated expression.

"It's nothing bad, I promise," he reassured you and leaned slightly back, his weight resting on his palms.

"Fine," you sighed in defeat, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. "Go on.."

"Have you ever tried writing poetry? Your text reads more like a poem than song lyrics."

A poem? You let the idea go through your head for a moment. Writing was something you'd done for as long as you could remember but poetry? Was he being serious or making fun of you? You honestly couldn't tell.

"All I'm hearing is your lyrics writing abilities suck," you eventually declared.

"You're putting words in my mouth," he replied casually.

"Sorry.. it's just, I don't know, I feel like every chord progression I try doesn't fit the vibe of the lyrics, I feel like I lost my ability to make it all flow, I feel so stuck and it's so frustrating-

"But that's totally unrelated to your lyrics. They're good. Just reads more like something you'd find in a poetry book than a song. Have you tried taking a break?"

"Well, kinda." You looked away as you attempted to lie.

"And now the truth. Have you really?"

But he just knew you too well.

"Noo..?" Your eyes roamed through your living room, looking anywhere but at him. Something in you still felt uneasy, wondering what he thought about the content of your writing.

"Come on." He was already on his feet and on his way towards the door, taking his and your jacket off the hook on his way and tossing it over to you as you followed him.

"Put on your jacket, we'll go outside and get your mind to focus on anything other than guitar chords for a bit."

To your annoyance the fresh air actually did seem to help your messy mind calm down. The park behind your apartment was mostly empty with the exception of a few elderly couples, some people walking their dogs and a few yelling children who were running around. You noted how unusally quiet it was to which he just shrugged.

"It's sunday," he said. "Most people are probably at home sleeping in."

"What business did you have around here on a sunday?" You asked him. Somehow the whole 'I was around and thought I'd came over' didn't sit right with you.

"Seeing my friend," he replied honestly, his gaze focused on the road infront of you as you walked.

"So you did come unanounced just to see me?" You questioned him, feeling bewildered. Oh, how blissfully unaware he must be about the way his actions affected your poor heart.

He turned his head to look at you for a moment and you felt like he was almost judging you for not seeing the obvious. Somehow, you hadn't quite noticed it before but now the bags under his eyes were so visible and they made him look older than he was you realized. As you were lost in thought he sighed and turned his gaze back at the trail infront of you.

"Today was the only day I had time," He said. "You've got no idea how busy I am because of work."

Of course you knew he was busy. But maybe he was more overworked than you'd realized. You wanted to be grateful but instead found yourself unable to focus on anything but the words he'd read in your notebook.

"You still could've called and let me know you were coming!" There it was again. The nerves speaking instead of your clear mind, making you sound all mad and sharp. He let out a quiet frustrated sigh again and bit the inside of his cheek.

"And risked getting a no? 'It's sunday Akaashi, don't you dare come over and bother me today'."

"I don't talk like that," you defended yourself.

"Yes, you do," he insisted.

You really did. And you knew that too. But it didn't feel fair that he apparently saw you like that because that wasn't the collected, real you. It was the you who let her nervous emotions take control and in an attempt to hide it, was prone to lashing out a little bit.

"Well, for the record," you started after calming yourself a little, "even when I say things like that sometimes.. I'm never actually bothered by you being around."

"Then maybe you should start saying what you really mean," he replied and there was a moment of silence accompanied by the sound of your shoes hitting the dusty trail under your feet.

"About the lyrics for your song," he eventually spoke up.

"You mean the poem?" You corrected him jokingly to which he just side eyed you with a small smile.

"Did you have someone specific in mind when you wrote those lyrics?" He asked.

"Not really," you answered quietly, sounding unsure of yourself.

"So you kinda did," he concluded and you shrugged.

"I mean.. maybe?"

"You don't know?" He sounded like he wanted to laugh at you but was holding back.

There was no way he wasn't being so stubborn and annoying about it on purpose, you thought. Despite his indifferent expression you were sure he was enjoying messing with you like this. If only he knew. And if only you knew he knew.

"Will you mind your own business please?" You started sounding annoyed again.

"You're my friend since forever so this is partially my business," he told you with that matter-of-fact tone in his voice again.

"So you're just nosy.. but.. well, yeah, I did kinda have someone in mind.. I guess."

"Someone I know?"

"Gosh! Keiji!" You couldn't tell if you were frustrated or embarassed, either way, you were loud enough to cause a bypasser to glance at you. You ignored the stranger and focused on trying to regain your composure. "Since when are you so damn curious about my life anyway?"

"I've always been curious about you. You're just too dense to notice it."

Rude! You wanted to say but a second later your brain processed the words he said fully and you stopped in your tracks, causing him to stop and turn around to face you.

"What do you mean?" You asked as you felt your heart racing inside your chest again.

There's no way.

"How do you know those blue eyes you wrote about will never be yours?" He spoke quietly, slightly embarassed but also impatiently as if he knew something you did not. Like he was getting frustrated by how dumb you were for not knowing the answer and you noticed the slightest teint of pink on his cheeks.

"I don't know. It just.. I guess it feels too good to be true, if they liked me back I mean," you stammered, a red hue making itself present on your cheeks.

"Maybe they do." Despite his slightly embarassed demeanour, there was a clear conviction in both his tone and expression as he spoke.

"Do they?" You asked hesitantly while looking down at your feet, feeling like you were being crushed under the weight of your own nerves and his gaze on you.

Instead of answering he took a step closer to you and reached for your wrist causing you to look at him. The blue eyes from your poem were staring right into yours and suddenly it felt like you knew the answer.

"They do." He said, the pinkish shade on his cheeks growing darker. "They always have. No, I always have. From the moment we met, I had both my heart and mind set on you."

"What- why.. I- no, wait- Why- why didn't you ever tell me?!" You stammered even worse than before but this time you were too nervous to curse yourself for it.

"Because I couldn't tell if you felt the same," He told you. "And maybe because it scared me a bit. To admit it to myself how much I really like, no love you. I'd never felt this way about anyone before, it caught me completely off-guard."

His eyes stayed glued on yours with an expression you couldn't quite figure out what it was but you felt like he was waiting for you to say something, to make the next move but when you stayed quiet he let go of your arm to hold up your hand instead and started to gently caress the rough skin on your fingertips with his thumb, his eyes following suit.

"And all those sappy love songs you constantly write. At first it made me think there was already someone else you liked," he continued upon realizing there wasn't coming anything from you yet. "I didn't want my feelings to have such a hold on me and tried to look away. But each day I pretend I don't like you that way, I just end up missing you worse."

Your eyes followed his gentle movement on your fingertips as his words made themselves at home in your brain.

"You're so dumb," you finally spoke quietly.

"All those love songs and lyrics and poems or whatever you wanna call them are all about you. Every single stupid one of them Keiji. Why would you ever think they're about anyone else?" You almost felt like crying by how overwhelming the relief that washed over you felt.

"You want me to braid your hair?" He asked you amused as his eyes fell back onto yours again while totally ignoring your question. You rolled your eyes, interlacing your fingers with his and started walking again, draggin him alongside you.

"Oh, shut up," you muttered as your lips curled into a smile and you felt him give your hand a gentle squeeze.

"No, its alright," he said quickly. "I just don't know how to do it. You're gonna have to teach me."

A/N: Sorry for any readers with short hair or buzzcuts out there, for the sake of the fic just pretend you've got long hair, ok? Love you 🫶

[thatrickmcginnis]

LINTON KWESI JOHNSON Toronto 1990

Toronto has had a big Caribbean diaspora for decades, so I grew up hearing calypso, soca and reggae on the streets and reggae on the radio, which is where I probably heard British dub poet Linton Kwesi Johnson for the first time. Not long after I started at Nerve magazine my editor Dave handed me an advance cassette of LKJ's In Concert with the Dub Band record, which became one of my favorite records that year. So a few years later when I was assigned by NOW magazine to photograph Jamaican dub poet Jean "Binta" Breeze (1956-2021) live at the BamBoo club on Queen West, I noticed that her backing band was Dennis Bovell's Dub Band and that LKJ was also on the bill. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up.

I had been shooting at gigs for years by this point and knew that if I showed up early and made my case to the promoter or road manager, I might be able to get a few minutes for a quick portrait session. The variable was always light and backgrounds, but I knew the BamBoo well enough to guess that there would be a blank wall somewhere upstairs. Light, of course, was a wild card. I got my little slot of time with Linton Kwesi Johnson before the show, and planned on taking a serious, faintly literary kind of portrait, but when I scanned the backstage area I saw that while I had enough clean white wall, there was only one spot that had just enough light for a portrait.

I had first read about Linton Kwesi Johnson in the British music press - weeklies like the New Musical Express and Melody Maker - so it was inevitable that I'd have those publications and their whole post-punk style in my head when I photographed LKJ: photographers like Bleddyn Butcher, Chalkie Davies, Kevin Cummins and especially Anton Corbijn. I loaded my Nikon F3 with Kodak's T-Max 3200 film, a film designed for pushing several stops (with a corresponding bloom of very textural grain). For his part LKJ was a more than accomodating subject, starting the roll with a few wistful poses before I began nudging him in the direction of the kind of austere head shot I had in mind. The roll finished, I thinked him for his time and hung around to do my job and photograph the night's show.

Since a portrait of LKJ wasn't what the paper assigned me to take, these shots didn't have a home. I remember printing one for my portfolio but taking it out after a few months; I kept having to explain who LKJ was and worried it was taking away from the impact of my book. Another way I was always second-guessing myself as a young photographer; I should have had more conviction. In any case these shots didn't see the light of day until I posted them on my old blog about a decade ago. Linton Kwesi Johnson continues to perform and teach, and has received countless awards and honorary degrees. Time Come, a collection of his poetry, was published last year.

[maitaiwiththecorpses]

Things That People With Kiddos Should Know As Someone With Kiddos

This is by no means an extensive list of things parents/guardians/caretakers should know and take into account when raising and taking care of kids, nor is this telling you how to run a household or parent, however, from my experience, these things can make your life SO MUCH EASIER and make the relationship with your kiddos and you much smoother. I'm mostly going to be focusing on more adolescent-specific topics, but a lot of this advice can be applied to kids of all ages. Some of these things that I mention might work perfectly for you and your kiddos, and some of them might not. Some of them you might have to practice working on or modify them to fit your situation. Not everything on here is golden for everyone, and not everything on here is trash either. What works for one situation might not work for another.

With that being said, let's get to it.

Take your kids clothes shopping in person as much as possible. Make them try everything that they pick on. Kid's measurements are weird and are going to be changing drastically throughout their lives. Find the clothes they like and fit into in person and buy them online for cheaper (or in person. Whatever floats your boat)

Do not waste money on surprises unless you know FOR A FACT that they're going to like it! What does for a fact mean? Well, they've either explicitly stated that they want the item, or dropped some obvious as hell hints! Do not go guessing and buying based on what you think they'll like, or what you like. That's setting you, and your kid up for failure.

Be interested in things they're interested in. Your kid likes Taylor Swift? Cool! Your reaction should be "awesome, you wanna listen to the Era's Tour setlist in the car?" or, "what's your favorite album, let's listen to it together!"

Similarly, if your kiddo creates (art, music, poetry, stories, crafts, woodwork, videos, coding, etc,.) BE INTERESTED IN THAT. Consume their work! Show interest in it! Ask to read their writing, ask to see their art, ask to listen to their compositions. They might not say yes, but make it clear that you want to, and that's something that excites you. This will bring your kiddo joy.

DO NOT. AND I REPEAT. DO NOT. BELITTLE THEIR INTERESTS. Remember: You were once a kid with wacky interests, too. Kids are always searching for validation, whether they exhibit it or not. And even if they aren't? It's just a dick move to make fun of them for something they like.

buy pencils, pens, and notebooks in bulk. You'll need them.

Oh, and sticky notes.

If your kiddo comes to you for help of any kind, academic or otherwise, you damn well help them. "I need help studying for my math test tomorrow," ok, whaddya struggling with? How can I help? Do you just need a body double here, or should I do some problems with you?

give them notes. In their lunches, on their desks, in presents, on the fridge- hell, stick it on their doors! It doesn't have to be anything long- just a simple "morning!" or, "have a great day!" works, too.

Tell them you love them and that you're proud of them. Regularly. I know there are some people who think that makes their kids soft but I assure you, you're doing the exact opposite. By building your kids up, and regularly telling them that you love them and are proud of them, they know that they are valued and worthy and loved. This will set them up for success later in life and make them emotionally intelligent and flexible. Also, kids don't hear it enough these days.

They're going to see some scary shit. You can't avoid it. This past year I had to report three attempted suicides and many more cases of self-harm that came from other peers and people I was very close to. I initially was not processing the fact that someone so close to me was hurting themselves or trying to kill themselves, and the reporting process (sometimes even involving police) was extremely traumatizing. When I finally did cry, it came days later, and even today someone might say the name of one of these people and I will immediately shut down and change my whole demeanor. And I know our kiddos are experiencing these things, so please, be there for your kids and always tell them that telling adults when someone they know is hurting themselves or trying to end their life is important and could save their friends and loved ones.

Be prepared for your kids to have some kind of mental illness or learning disability. Do not try and gaslight them by saying that it's "all in their heads" (no shit?) or that they're "making things up." take everything seriously. "Mom, I think I have adhd," alright, let's see a doctor and do some research. "Tia, I'm so tired all the time and I just want to disappear," darling, that's not healthy, that's a sign of depression- you're important and loved, how about we set up a session with a therapist so you can talk to someone about these feelings who can help you better than I can?

Always be prepared to help your kiddos and reach out to licensed professionals who can help them.

carry snacks with you everywhere. And not that healthy shit, either. Within your kid's eating restrictions, get something like a chocolate chip granola bar or a Reese's cup and stick it in your going-out bag. It will save your life when hungry time comes around.

Don't be surprised if your kids are queer in some shape or form. Support them, love them unconditionally, make sexuality puns as needed ("if you're not dating anyone rn, does that mean you're on stand-bi?") and do your own research in regard to sexuality and gender.

help them get ready for school dances and stuff. Makeup, hair, clothes, pickup lines, the whole ordeal. I promise you they're going to love you for it.

Make the puberty/sex talk a casual yet thorough thing. You want to cover all the information, but you don't want to make it so uptight that they never want to talk about it again or ask any questions. Pull up diagrams, do the whole shebang, but make it clear that they don't have to memorize everything in that very moment. Questions are ok, even after the fact.

Take them to the library.

For all your menstruating kiddos out there, stock up on pads and tampons and anything else they use every month/every other month depending on how much they use. Don't make it seem like a hassle, don't make difficult, just do it without question. If they tell you they like a certain brand or type/size/etc, adhere to that and respect it. Menstruating is uncomfortable as is, don't make it worse by not listening to your kid's needs.

Give them this thing I like to call Cuddle Days (or sensory overload days, or Overstimulated, Get Me Outta Here days). These are the kinda days that can show up on weekends after a long week and basically it's a ton of movies, pillow forts, blankets, and comfort food. And lots of cuddles, of course.

Don't guilt trip them for existing having needs. Your kids are going to need a lot and do a lot and they are grateful, but it just feels weird to express that feeling of gratitude as a teenager.

And, most importantly, let them be kids. Let them have pillow fights, and roll on the grass. Hang fairy lights up and tell them stories. Giggle about their crushes with them, and paint your nails together. Play Mario Cart and eat takeout together. Kids are so complex and amazing and it would be a shame if we took away the part about being kids in the process of them growing up, because one day they're not gonna be our babies anymore.

[melrosing]

What if brienne's mom was still alive? How much of her character/story would change? And what do u imagine their relationship would be like? 🧐

sorry for the late reply! I think I’ve written something on this before but im on mobile and i know im never gonna find it so. this is mostly hcs:

for whatever reason I’ve always imagined Brienne’s mother as a quiet, daydreamy person who doesn’t smile much but somehow exudes warmth anyway. Selwyn I imagine as having been a big character in his youth but he turns inwards after the loss of Cyril (my hc name for her) and their children. but anyway they were an odd couple in their youth but it kind of worked

the main thing she and Brienne share is a passion for stories, songs and poetry: I think Brienne gets her romanticism from her mother, and Cyril knows a lot about stormlands folklore etc and Brienne is always eager to hear about. they go on walks about the island together to see supposed sites of magic

otoh i think Cyril would be aware that Brienne looks different to other girls but her approach is just to never comment on it. which is fine at first but hard for Bri in adolescence bc she kind of needs Cyril to say she knows she’s different and that’s fine, but Cyril thinks if she says nothing then Brienne will never even realise

Brienne still would have suffered the insults of someone like Septa Roelle, who is more than happy to tell her precisely the ways she’s different, but she doesn’t want to tell her mother bc she’s scared of Cyril confirming it’s all true so unfortunately that never gets addressed

hc that Cyril living means Selwyn maintains his big personality to a greater extent, and he’s warmer towards Brienne as a result. but he’s often distracted by his role as the Evenstar so Bri doesn’t confide much in him EITHER

you know I guess it all really depends on what kind of person Brienne’s mother was in terms of what impact she would’ve had on Brienne’s story. I think she and Brienne would’ve been warm towards one another but not similar people, so she can’t necessarily heal all of Brienne’s hurts and Renly’s kindness is still enough to drive her to join his train

I don’t picture Cyril trying to stop Brienne leaving, she thinks it’s kind of romantic. but Selwyn being less inward in this AU, he does try to stop her as his only heir and that creates a rift between them. maybe that results in Brienne being more resolute about not returning till she wishes, or less so idk. but in short my hc is that Brienne got away with much of her nonconformity through the emotional absence of Selwyn who is too lost in grief to pay her enough attention

maybe in the least, Brienne doesn’t immediately feel so strongly tied to Catelyn, with whom I think there’s a slightly maternal relationship going on? bc she doesn’t lack a mother, that bond doesn’t feel so urgent as it does in ACOK, for either of them: Brienne subconsciously looking for the presence of a maternal figure, Catelyn missing her own children terribly and especially her daughters

idk hope this helps

[symphony-calamity]

Legal name changes are actually wild. What do you mean in order to change I have to do all this paperwork so I'll be able to prove that I'm still the same

[mailrebel]

And so, as they say— FOR THE BOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 👀 ✨ 🥰 🤔 💞 ⚔️ 🙂 This is such a sweet ask game and you gave the greenlight to do this so of *course* I'm taking that opportunity to throw ALL OF THESE EMOJI AT YOU mwahahaha think fast, Mail!

Sparrow, I’m going to be frank with you. You seem like the type of person who melts at even the smallest compliment, so I genuinely fear if you’ll be able to survive some of the nice things I have to say about you 😂😂😂 But I appreciate your boldness! CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!

👀 Share the story of how we first met, or how you first heard of me

I actually remember this one pretty well. Ari came into the TP server one day and she was so excited because someone had gifted her a fluffy TP Zelink fanfic. And that fic, of course, was yours. And I read it. And I loved it. And I think I gushed about it in the comments a bit and you probably replied back (I admittedly don’t remember any of what was said between us lmao). And then later we got to meet more through Discord and I kept reading more of your works too, and since we share so many similar interests it seems that we just naturally became friends haha.

✨ Tell me which of my works (fic or art) is your favorite! 

This is an easy one. My favorite fic of yours is “Alighting the Darkness”. Not only is it really sweet, and heartwarming, and fluffy, but it also just feels so poetic. To see all the little ways that Link brings light into Zelda’s otherwise dreary life. That is one of the things I love most about Zelink and you executed it flawlessly. Oh, and of course, this is the same fic mentioned in the previous answer, so it’s also the reason we met! So surely it deservers a little love for that too 😂

🥰 Say one nice thing about me

Sparrow, you are just genuinely so fun to be around. Our conversations are always so pleasant, and I especially love whenever you share your thoughts or analyses or your passion with others. Much like Link in your story (will I ever be able to answer one of these questions without referencing that story???), I feel that you bring light into the lives of everyone you meet 😌

🤔 What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of me?

The first thing I want to say is poetry! Because I feel that you have such a keen eye for identifying poetry in the things you’re passionate about, and I know that you’ve done it numerous times for the Legend of Zelda series. All of your works always feel like they have a poetic aspect to them as well, which is probably why I’m so awed by most of them lol. The second answer I want to give is “Gatekeeper fangirl”. If you know, you know 😂😂😂

💞 Guess who my favorite iteration of Zelink is

Hmm…I’m really not too sure on this one. I want to say it’s a tossup between OOT and TP…You’ve written a lot of TP Zelink stories so I’m going to take a wild guess and lock in TP Zelink as my final answer!

⚔️ Guess my favorite Zelda game

Another one that I’m really not too sure about lol. Again, I’m feeling that OOT and TP both hold special places in your heart. And again, I’m going to go with my gut and say that your favorite is probably Twilight Princess! You’ll have to let me know if I’m close or not haha.

🙂 Just wish me a nice day :D

Sparrow, I hope you have a wonderful day. I think that you’re a wonderful person and I wish you all the best 🙏 Thanks for the asks and for always being your kind and awesome self! :)

[lamemaster]

Become My Heartache

Pairing: Finrod x Human Reader

Word Count: 2.9k ish

Summary: "Everyone here was so hyped about the elven king that I had to come see you as well. Personally, I just don't think we would match anyway. You're… too, how do I say it… too clean?" You tilted your head as you spoke. "Like nice or pure, maybe… and I…" You rubbed the back of your neck with an embarrassed laugh.

AN: Why did I write this idk. I was watching Rockstar 2011 and could not stop the urge to write it into a fic. Also sufi poetry is my jam. It is so well written and hits the spot. (Dividers by @saradika P.S. you're amazing!)

"Only the purest heartache, ardent pain in one's spirit, can be the source of truest art," your mentor's words ring loud in your ears. "And I don't think you have that. You aren't made for that." It was your last chance to prove yourself as his student, your only chance to show that you too could write like any other love-crazed student of his.

Clutching your satchel close to yourself, you wander the bazaars looking for someone. Specifically, someone who would become the muse of your heartbreak, the one who would lend you words of poetry. You wander the streets in search of the muse of your heartbreak.

And then, you see him: a golden-haired dream surrounded by guards, seated on a magnificent white mare. He strides through the crowded streets of the bazaar, uncaring and seemingly oblivious to the staring eyes around him.

He is an elven royal, one you don't know yet but will soon. Curious, you approach a merchant who has been side-eying you for a while, realizing you should have bought something from him earlier. "Excuse me," you ask the merchant, "Who is that?"

The merchant chuckles and replies, "Ah, you sure do live under a rock. He's the King of elves, from a place called Nathrond…no, Nargrond, I think. They call him Vidri for his wisdom, but his true name of elven kind is Finrod." Grateful for the information, you pick the cheapest-looking item from the stall, thank the merchant, and prepare to complete the last task before embarking on your life as a true writer.

"Come on, y/n, you can do this," you whisper the words of courage to yourself as you step into the gardens frequented by the elven king during his visit. Finrod, a strange elf who, despite being a royal, kept wandering among commoners, is seated there with other elves and some men trying to blend in with the elves but failing to do so. You have braided your hair tighter, dressed in your best tunic, and brought your ever-present satchel as you make your way towards him.

The elven king senses your presence and looks up. "Hi, I am y/n, and I have something to tell you," you say, and the entire group focuses on you as Finrod nods for you to continue. "Not here," you add, not wanting him to easily dismiss you under public pressure. "I don't want prying ears to hear. Let's find a more private place."

"Just speak here, mortal," one of the guards barks menacingly, brandishing a sword. Gathering your courage, you push through the built-up tension and continue speaking, even though Finrod makes no move to follow you. "I think you are really cool and attractive. I like you. Let's court," you declare, and the entire garden falls silent at your audacious statement.

"Pshh HAHHHAAA," a loud laugh rings out from one of the men. "Oh lord, she really…" another man laughs, but you only feel a slight annoyance rather than the heartache or pain you had hoped for. Your only hope lies with the elven lord, who remains speechless.

"I... don't think... I'm sorry, I can't," the words fall from the elf. You try to anticipate the impending heartache. "I... I'm already taken," you don't notice the slight redness gathering on the elven lord's cheeks.

"I guess this is it then. My love shall forever go unanswered. But that's okay, I can simply live by writing," you feel it now. Yes, this must be it. Willing your eyes to grow a little cloudier, you embrace your heartbreak.

"Okay," oops, morphing back into your depression, you take your leave. You ignore the laughing men and elves around you. You don't care for their approval or jest. There is something out there much more important than that. Something within your reach but still out of it. And this king of elves could be the answer.

Musing about it, you rush back to your mentor. He would truly see your pain now, won't he? Slightly messing up your hair and rubbing your eyes, you hurry.

"I thought I told you to leave," your teacher stands in front of you. You pause mid-bite. Your impossibly delicious meal has to wait. Seems like your heartbreak isn't evident to him. "I cannot leave," you try to remember the elven prince... or was he the king? "I cannot bring myself to do it anymore," your gaze drifts to the food that seems to be cooling down with every passing second. "There is no longer a place for me in this world. The one I loved broke my heart," you carefully pluck a bite of bread from your plate. God, the food here is always divine.

You do not notice, however, your mentor's sharp gaze. "Hmm, I was right," you pause at his words. "I was right, you do not deserve to be here. You call this love?" He points an accusatory finger at you. "You call this heartbreak?" The entire hall stops at your teacher's raised voice. "This is no love lost," he pauses with a pained look in his eyes, "If it were love, you wouldn't be here, eating away at these delights. It would be an ache so potent that it would forbid even the thought of swallowing a bite. There is no pain in you, no struggle, and that is why you are not worthy of being here," your pleas fall short of stopping your mentor as he drags you out of the halls of his school.

"Return only when you have learned to respect the pain of others. If not love, at least learn to be honest with yourself," the doors shut in your face, leaving you dumbfounded.

As the only sister to five brothers, you never had to ask for a thing. Your life had been easy. Your father, a rich courtier, allowed you to study and pursue your passion. Your brothers looked out for you. Your sisters-in-law didn't hate you either. You were not bound to an unfair betrothal either. There was truly no pain in your life.

And from what it seems, even the elven king had not done the job. However, the least you can do is apologize to him. If that is the only way to please your mentor, then so be it. You would find a way to discover the pain that would make you worthy of his teachings again.

Finrod's heart beats with a wild rhythm when he sees you walking towards him again, the one who has the courage of mighty mountains, the daring woman who proposed to him.

Even now, Finrod can't help but wonder about your intentions. It wasn't love... not the love that he knew of. It was something else. A curious thought whispered into Finrod's mind at the very sight of you.

You looked different from earlier. Gone was the joyful confidence and suaveness in your eyes. Instead, you appeared sheepish. What had caused this change in the woman who looked at him with determination, despite the scorn and mocking thrown her way?

"I… I must tell you that I am sorry," your words were different from what Finrod expected. "I am not in love with you, nor am I interested in courting you. I hope you weren't offended by my actions," your words left him speechless.

"Then wh—" Finrod began to speak, but you interrupted him.

"Everyone here was so hyped about the elven king that I had to come see you as well. Personally, I just don't think we would match anyway. You're… too, how do I say it… too clean?" You tilted your head as you spoke. "Like nice or pure, maybe… and I…" You rubbed the back of your neck with an embarrassed laugh.

"So you think I'm too naive and pure," Finrod found himself speaking before he could stop. "You judge me based on an elven king who knows nothing of this world?" Finrod leaned in and watched your pupils dilate as he did so. "Well, I will be going to Red Flower tonight. Alone," Finrod emphasized the last word with a feeling of smugness filling him.

You gaped at him open-mouthed. "Red Flower… it's a brothel," you whispered. "I thought elves… I thought you were taken…" Your voice sounded scandalized. Finrod felt a surge of satisfaction at your astounded expression.

And that is how you ended up accompanying the elven king to watch scantily clad women dancing in dimly lit rooms. Worried about leaving the pretty king alone in the red district of the town, you followed him.

And if any of you end up getting a lap dance at the end of the day then it is no one's business. Not that you would ever be able to tell his betrothed who lives in the Blessed Lands.

With the inhibitions of your master and school gone, you found yourself next to the king more often than not. Sometimes teaching him the art of stealing from guarded orchards, while others trying to pat his back as he coughed after the first whip of the pipe. Turns out elves truly cannot smoke, even when they try really hard.

As you ventured into the tavern, the poorly disguised elven king walked behind you. The shallow hood was not doing him any favors, but despite your numerous attempts, the elf simply did not try on the fake beard.

You stared at two frothing mugs of mead, then turned to look at your partner. "Are you sure elves don't fall ill? I don't want to be linked to any harm done to your majesty." Finrod did not answer you with words; instead, he chugged the entire mug.

"Uaaw… Ughh," you didn't even flinch when Finrod gaged next to you. "How?" he questioned your ability to drink without a wince. "I told you it's not your refined and aged wine," you winked at the hidden royal.

"Why do you think God would be found in an effigy made of stone?" You glared at Finrod as you tried to shut him up. He clearly was intent on getting you and himself to the halls of Mandos, as he called it.

"It is merely a belief, a custom. Can you not sound so dismissive right now?" You dragged the king away from the crowd and the looming temple in the background. "People find hope where they can, be it in a stone shaped into their belief," Finrod stared at you, and you tried not to huff. It would really make your nostrils flare in the most unappealing way possible. "Not everyone is born in the land of gods, King Finrod."

"Forgive me," two words spoken with utmost sincerity erased all your anger in a heartbeat.

As Finrod prepared to leave, a sense of restlessness washed over your heart. The impending separation weighed heavily on your mind, and you found yourself unable to break away from his gaze. There was an unspoken challenge in his eyes, as if daring you to venture into an unknown battle of emotions.

"Is this how you men hug?" Finrod asked, a playful note in his voice, as you embraced him tightly to bid farewell. You chuckled softly, not wanting to let go. "Yes," you replied, a hint of reluctance in your voice. But just as you started to pull away, you felt Finrod's arms tighten around you, holding you closer.

"Then stay like this a little longer," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of longing and sincerity. The words caught you off guard, stirring a flurry of emotions within you. Your heart skipped a beat as you contemplated the deeper meaning behind his request.

"You want to run away or something?" you teased, trying to mask the sudden vulnerability that threatened to surface. A mischievous smirk danced on your lips as you challenged him playfully. "Like leave your kingdom and visit brothels with me?"

For a moment, the air hung heavy with anticipation. Finrod's gaze locked with yours, and you could sense the gravity of his response before he even uttered a word. His eyes spoke volumes, filled with unwavering determination and a longing for a different kind of freedom.

"Yes," he answered, his voice steady and resolute. The single word hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a mix of excitement and uncertainty coursed through your veins.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of apprehension. You searched his eyes for clarity, seeking to understand the depth of his intentions. The mischievousness in your voice was replaced by genuine curiosity.

A soft smile tugged at Finrod's lips, a gentle reassurance in his gaze. The seriousness in his stare extinguished any doubt, leaving you breathless. "I mean it," he replied, his voice unwavering. "I want to be the most un-elven elf with you. So, should we run away now?"

Your mind raced, trying to comprehend the weight of his words. A mix of emotions flooded your being — fear, excitement, and a flicker of hope. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what this new path might bring, but the glimmer of possibility was too enticing to resist.

"I'm just joking," you finally managed to utter, "I wouldn't want to steal elves of their king," a hint of uncertainty lacing your words. But as you gazed into Finrod's eyes, you saw a lightness return to his expression, a playfulness that belied his sincerity. It was as if he understood the complex dance of emotions within you and accepted it without judgment.

A smile broke across Finrod's face, reaching his eyes and erasing any trace of doubt. He released you from his embrace, but his presence lingered, a connection that transcended the physical touch. "Maybe it was just a joke," he conceded, his voice filled with warmth, "but sometimes, jokes reveal the deepest desires hidden within our hearts."

That was how you parted with Finrod. Your last meeting held no promise of another.

Something gnawed at your soul — a settling dread that you would not be seeing him anymore. He was gone just like that. He might even not remember visiting you in his long lifetime.

Lost in your thoughts, you continued walking, and for the first time, you did not have a destination in mind. You walked past your school, your home, and the brothels you visited with Finrod, but nothing seemed to hold your attention. So you continued walking, step after step, pulled by an invisible force.

Clutching your satchel close to you, you followed the call that tugged at the weight that seems to have settled in your heart.

You stand outside the closed doors of your once home. And you know these doors will not be opening for you. Neither these doors nor the doors that lead to your mentor. You are no longer welcome in the world that you once called yours.

Clutched in your hand is a piece of paper. A crumbled piece of paper, that loses its ink to the merciless downpour of rain.

You could not find yourself to lament the loss of the words fading with every passing second. After all, these words were all you had left now. An abundance of them flocked every aspect of your life.

Nothing but these wretched words, the once you paid for with everything you ever valued.

It had been days since you had last barged through the doors of your mentor's place. You had expected to find the answers to your anguish there. To maybe seek approval for the bargain that seemed to have stripped you from your soul.

He should have known the answers to the path he led to you. When you enter the halls you once wished to be part of, you received nothing but stares full of contempt or found yourself confronted by the scorn of the ones who claimed to be the mascots of love.

If you had been more aware of the surroundings maybe you would have noticed your unkempt clothes, your unbrushed hair, or your bare feet that were bleeding onto the polished floors.

You held on to bunched up pages in your hands. Blank sheets full of poetry, yearning, and want. "Take it back," the words leave your mouth at the first sight of your mentor. You hand him the papers that he barely holds on to. "Take back or undo whatever it is that your teachings have led me to. I have written like you wanted. I have created like those love-crazed sufis now make this stop. Make this stop." The hall stands quiet.

"I cannot do that," your mentor's voice is a whisper. "No one can," he sounds so meek, unlike his past self.

"You don't understand. I cannot live like this. I cannot spend nights thinking of the one whose name I have already written a thousand times. I am looking for him, the king of elves, they call him Vidri or Finrod. I cannot find him. Tell me where he lives or where to find him..." your words thunder like the skies of July. You kneel in front of the one who you once knew to be your teacher. Begging for a respite of any kind.

You have been looking for Finrod for days but no matter how far your footsteps took you, you found no trace of the one you searched for. People knew of the golden-haired king but none knew of his kingdom. It was as if every proof of his existence evaporated into the searing winds of the desert.

You visited every place, every nook, every corner where you once saw him but there were no signs of him. Only the emptiness of your own yearning stared back at you.

"Please bring him back," your mentor steps back from your crouched figure.

Oh, the ecstasy of love's sweet wine, Intoxicates the soul with bliss divine. In the union of lover and beloved, they become one, An unsaid union, under the eternal sun.

So let the heart yearn, let it ache and pine, For in love's longing, a purpose divine. Through love's trials, the soul finds its way, To the eternal realm, where love holds sway.

So I embrace the reflection, a reflection of divine, As I seek him, I find my own essence entwined. In the labyrinth of love, I am both seeker and sought, A journey where duality is naught.

Finrod read the words once, then again, and again. He couldn't stop. Even without a name, he knew they were your words. Written by an anonymous poet, they resonated with him deeply because none would know them better than Finrod.

Hidden in the tavern he had once visited with you, Finrod smiled at the withered page of paper. So you had made it after all. Pride and joy filled him, but so did a sense of foreboding.

He ventured out, searching for you, but no one uttered your name. It had become taboo. The world had moved on without you. Your mentor, your friends, your brothers, they all stepped into a time where there was not a mention of you.

Where were you? You belonged here, with your people, in your bustling bazaars where you first met him. He had expected to return to a frozen time. And maybe this time… maybe he could finally tell you of his heart.

He found you amidst scorns and muttered curses. A frown appeared on his face as he noticed the averted eyes. "She had it coming with her deeds," an aged woman with a kind smile said without an ounce of sympathy or love for you. "A woman of the worst character. Did you know she had been seen frequenting those wretched brothels and indecent taverns? When asked, she spouted nonsense. Her brothers did not care for it and kicked her out. Her mentor, a respectable man, did not fare well with it either. For days she wandered these streets like a lewd prostitute, but then just left one day. Must have found another man or died in a ditch for all I care," disgust filled Finrod at the woman's words, but before he could defend you, another voice interrupted him.

"Come back, Granny, don't stand there talking to strangers," a child rushed forward and guided the elderly woman away from Finrod. Patting Finrod's shoulder, the woman started walking away. "Must have been some elven magic. That wretch would not stop talking about that elven king. She would write of him, sing of him, speak to him gazing in the skies...she was too far gone. "

When I looked for myself, I found his eternal flame, And in seeking him, I discovered my own name. In the sacred union of love's tether, I found the Beloved, in the depths of my own self, forever.

At last, Finrod had become your heartbreak.

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's 2024 Birthday Event - Video Call

Today, on my birthday, I have fulfilled many dreams.

When I was a kid, I really liked Sun Wukong. The feeling of being unrestrained and being able to go wherever you wanted was cool.

I used to dream that I could also transform in 72 ways, not be bound by any rules, and do anything I wanted, solely based on my will.

So you can probably guess that when I was a child, I hated Wukong who was disciplined by Tang Monk. I always felt that it was not like him and not the "Monkey King" in my heart.

Whenever I see him being controlled by a tight spell, I feel... very unhappy.

But as I grew up, I had a different understanding of freedom.

I discovered that true freedom is not about ignoring the rules, but about knowing which way you want to go and keeping going.

Have your own world in your heart, know what you are doing, know what you really want————

There is no need to undergo seventy-two changes. No matter where you are, you can still be the Monkey King.

This perception may also be influenced by you

It is from you that I see another kind of freedom, the kind of persistence and determination that comes from the heart.

No matter how annoying things are, you never stop or lose your enthusiasm for the world.

So I thought, its not just in myths that one can freely roam the heavenly palace, but also in this mortal world, one can live out their own life, isn't that also a form of freedom?

Let’s continue to pursue this freedom together.

Whether its a narrow path or a broad road, the 99 bends and 81 barriers will all be trampled in our feet. 

As for the so called “hero who surpasses the world ” in your eyes, one person is enough.

—

The phrase "七十二变" (72 transformations) is a reference to the classic Chinese novel "Journey to the West", where the Monkey King can transform into 72 different forms.

The "99 bends" (九九) and "81 barriers" (八十一关) are metaphors used in Chinese literature and poetry to describe the challenges and obstacles one faces in life.

The "99 bends" typically represent the twists and turns of life's journey, symbolizing the ups and downs, struggles, and difficulties that one encounters.

The "81 barriers" typically represent the various obstacles, hurdles, and challenges that one must overcome to achieve their goals or reach their destination. Together, they paint a picture of a long and arduous journey, filled with challenges and obstacles that must be overcome. By saying "我们都会踩在我们的脚下" (they will all be trampled under our feet),

[lostmykiliel]

Hi Marie :) forgive me if you’ve already made a post about this at some point but I’m fairly new here. Due to recent events (aka insta posts and comments) I’m wondering do you know and can perhaps explain to me what the significance of all the sunset/sun/moon/sky pictures is? If there is one at all? Whenever I see them doing this I’m kind of like *cardi b voice* „That’s suspicious. That’s weird.“

Hi nonnie.

First of all welcome! 🫶

And I'll try my best to answer this, but a little disclaimer I am no lore expert so I may not know/forgot something.

That being said, let's start with some background info:

Mile and Apo chose and performed two very interesting songs on stage as Kinn and Porsche for the Kinnporsche World Tour 2022/2023.

First: 'Fly me to the moon'

Second: 'The moon represents my heart'

Both iconic queer songs about the moon.

And additionally in some Asian countries the phrase "Isn't the moon beautiful?" is another way to say I love you.

Ok back to Mile & Apo themselves:

There is reason to believe the sky/moon has a special meaning to them personally as well.

The most famous story: When both of them were in different parts of Thailand in December 2022, Apo even wrote poetry about it:

However it wasn't the first time, while Mile was in Kalasin in April 2022 Apo posted this:

Other times when they were separated (and this are just the most recent ones):

Though Apo (and Mile) like sky pictures in general, we see those sunset/night sky/moon pictures mostly when they are in different parts of the country/world.

Exceptions:

If I remember correctly those were posted on the same day in October 2023 and it's from the same building (where their vocal coach lives):

On that day they were attacked by haters once again and people thought that was why they were in this mood.

And one time were both of them were in BKK and nothing extraordinary happened*:

[*At least as far as we know.]

Last but not least many fans compare Mile & Apo to the moon & sun, because of their different personalities that are very harmonious. They themselves compared each other to Yin and Yang many times already.

I guess you asked because of the one sky picture Apo posted yesterday on IG:

Hope this helps!

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 30: Vitrine 💎

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Vitrine (n.)

a glass display case

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I may have still be short on ideas for this one, but I think I was mentally prepared for it a bit more, which helped considerably. 🙌

My best? No, but I do like it! Let’s just hope I can say at least that much tomorrow…😅 So close to the end!! 

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk a bit more about my general thoughts/process. ✨

Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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I admittedly yet again did not have a ton of ideas for this one, and it probably shows. 😅 However, I do think I managed a little bit better because I actually remembered this one was on the list for most of the month, so it's been kind of living in my subconscious all the while. I think that shows, too.

This was though a word I originally put on the list because of the fun I thought it would be if I'd chosen to work with the mini-magnets. Yes, a glass display case itself is a very specific thing, but the cases can be designed in a few different ways, serve different purposes, and hold a multitude of different things. I had it in mind that toying with the different expectations and contents of a glass display would lend themselves well to poetry.

...But I'm not working with poetry here, am I? 🙃

At least not literally; If you want to argue figuratively, I won't stop you.

Still, in another timeline where I had more than just a single day—probably more like a whole month to itself—to play around with the concept, and maybe if I had decided to work on a bigger canvas, I might have ended up with an outcome more like some of the designs you see in Adult Coloring books. I'm thinking along the lines of Johanna Basford's work, but she's just the one I know best by name, plenty of others I think could also do wonders with, "A glass display case full of interesting stuff."

I did try to capture a little of that general idea, still, but some of Sparklers are probably familiar enough with what I usually have to say about these mandalas by now that you might guess: I wanted to lean more in the "traditional mandala" direction. Both just for the aesthetic-y reasons, but yeah I will be frank that that way, particularly with this kind of subject, was much faster, too.

Speaking of, I would also like it on the record that I initially didn't back myself into quite as tight of time-crunch corner tonight...But I neglected to notice my Apple Pencil needed charging before I got started, so at one point I had to both break for dinner and just to let the pencil charge, and that basically ate up whatever tiny bit of "extra" time I had when I got started. 🫠

Anyway. I started with a vaguely French/Rocco Vitrine-inspired shape as my base, then "decorated" it a little, and tried to"fill" it with a few things—A crystal ball, something that lightly resembles perfum bottles, and a gem. Then I went around filling space with a little Art Nouveu and little Art Deco, kind of thinking of a jewelry store that's maybe been around for years and years, that would have a bunch of antique-y display cases hanging around instead of the sleek, boxy modern kind.

So not the most elaborate design in the world, but I do think this is one of my better attempts to marry the more doodle-y nature a lot of these have come out with and some more typical mandala motifs and ideas. It's still certainly not perfect in that regard, but I do think it kind of stands out in a good way because of that.

This is thought probably another where the colors are doing a lot of work to help things along. 😅

White lines were a must. They felt kind of essential to the "glass" feel, much like back on Day 21. And now is a good time to note that I also fought with myself quite a bit on the colors to keep the two of them—today and Day 21—from feeling too similar to each other. This was mainly accomplished by sticking with teals and avoiding "true" blues. Which, I do think that made for a nice nod to how a lot of glass has kind of an underlying green tint to it.

I still can't say I necessarily avoided them looking similar as much as I would've liked, all the things considered, but the clock was ticking, so it is what it is. 🤷‍♀️

...And I think that's kind of everything I have to say, really. Probably for the best since typing this out took longer than I expected and I still have to get to cross-posting, but I do feel a little bad that I managed to enjoy this one more than the last few and feel like I have even less to say about it. 🫤

Oh well. At least I am happy with it. I hope I can say at least that much tomorrow...And naturally, I really hope I can get tomorrow's posted earlier so I can be DONE and work on some other things, but after the way last week and this week is going so far...I have my doubts.

Even so, wish me luck either way, Sparklers—We're so close to the end!! 😵‍💫

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See the Prompt List

Artwork © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️