#i have a lot of my flower books and journals everywhere

[tetzoro]

Aimsie what does amoro’s ship cabin look like? If you want I’d love to see a moodboard for your space too 🌚

hi beloved nana ! this was so much fun to think about and even sillier bc i can only imagine what kind of circumstances led up to franky building us our own cabin on the sunny LOL

it’s a tiny little thing but it’s perfect for us as we mainly use it to sleep and keep our stuff in (mostly my stuff bc he travels way way way lighter than me). and i did most the decorating ofc lol usopp made the sign though !

[sweet-creature101]

Washing Machine Heart

Summary: You, a reserved student find yourself in the midst of an intense with Harry Styles, who happens to be your friend’s boyfriend. Your connection ignites into a consuming, high-stakes affair, each encounter fraught with desire and danger, pushing both of you to the brink as you wrestle with guilt and loyalty.

A forbidden affair; affair trope.

Warnings: mention of alcohol. LOTS OF ANGST.

27th February 2014

4:08 p.m

The wind was cold today and so were you. The sun, hidden under a cloak of clouds, was nowhere to be seen. The streets of London never looked so desolate and dull. Even the usually vibrant Villon Street today looked as if it had been washed in grey and white. Your shoes clacked against the hard pavement, your focus directed at the wind and the cold that nicked at your face.

Over the years you developed a perception that you’re invisible, a shadow slinking in corners long forgotten. You look around, your ears blocking out the chatter and squeals of your friends; friends who would often disregard you when together, far too immersed in each other's stories of disastrous flings and affairs. But they were your friends, your friends to call, your friends to keep no matter how ignorant or oblivious they sometimes became.

“Y/N?” Sharon suddenly spoke out loud, drawing you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” You suddenly asked, your posture becoming straighter, your eyes becoming alert.

Sharon looked at you intently, her blue eyes scanning you up and down before sighing. ���There’s a party tomorrow at, what 7?” Sharon asked Regina in the middle of her sentence.

Regina simply nodded while texting, her wispy brown hair wafting with every gust of wind. Sharon continued, “Yes, so there’s a party tomorrow at the frat house. Would you like to join? We’re all getting ready at my place.”

Sharon and you lived in the same apartment building. You were looking for the cheapest accommodation, a one-bedroom apartment off campus because living with absolute strangers was far too daunting for you. And that is how you met Sharon, whom your mother instantly loved owing to her extroverted demeanour.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled at the three girls.

“Great!” Tara exclaimed.

The four of you spent the next hour drinking coffee and discussing your outfits for the party; albeit you occasionally answered in full sentences, opting for curt words instead. As the clock struck seven in the evening, Tara and Regina decided to head back to campus while you and Sharon made your way to Greene Street, where your apartments were situated. “Come with me, I have to show you my new dress,” Sharon said before you got a chance to head to your apartment.

Sharon’s apartment was right next to yours but seemed a world apart. Her apartment was littered with stray clothes, makeup and syllabus books everywhere while yours sported an impressive collection of novels, journals and trinkets and the walls were painted with various constellations, flowers, sunsets or anything you wished to preserve.

You stepped over Sharon’s strewn clothes and sat on her bed, waiting for her to come out. Suddenly the doorbell rang and you were up in qualms, not knowing what to do.

“Sharon, someone's at the door.” You said, standing close to the bathroom door so that she could hear you clearly.

“Must be Harry, why don’t you open it? It’ll take me a while in here.” Sharon replied.

You stood for two seconds, mapping out your plan of action when the bell rang for the second time. “Coming!” You yelled.

You opened the door and there stood Harry Styles, Sharon’s five-month long boyfriend. A bouquet of roses held in his right hand, a silly smile etched on his face.

“You’re not Sharon.” Harry chuckled. His voice sounded radiant, his green eyes gleamed with amusement.

“You stand correct. She’s in the washroom,”

“Ah, well how are you?” Harry asked, being the gentleman he was taught to be.

“Careful or else I might think these flowers are for me.” You joked dryly.

Truth be told, initially, Harry had his sights set on you, the girl who always lingered beyond time in the library, who would laugh at jokes only once she saw everyone else was laughing around her. This is why he talked to Sharon, to make her help him talk to you but somewhere along the way lines got blurred and Harry got confused. Fatally confused. Confused enough that his lack of decisiveness led him to a relationship he never wanted to be in but nonetheless followed through for he had nothing better to do. And now as you opened the door, a small part of him hoped that the situation in front of him was not because of coincidence but because of will.

“Harry!” A squeal from behind took his focus away. He looked behind to see Sharon, in a tight red dress looking at him with the eyes of a lovesick puppy.

“Got these for you,” Harry said, walking in. He grabbed Sharon by the waist and gave her a kiss.

Harry did not notice when you left, but could only feel you leave. Like a silent wraith gliding from one world to the next.

28th February 2014

10:42 p.m

The music playing was absolutely deafening. The cup in your head seemed like a dead weight. You had a few beers, only to make conversations with all these people less turbulent. The short denim skirt you wore kept on riding up your thighs and the white tube top you wore seemed to stick to your skin. Tara had run off to somewhere with Regina and Sharon was far too immersed in making your drink.

“Don’t add too much vodka Shar,” you tell the girl, turning your focus towards the kitchen island littered with bottles of alcohol and empty cups.

“Of course, of course,” Sharon said, nodding, as she proceeded to empty the bottle of vodka in her hand in the two cups in front of her. “Now for the real question Y/N, coke or straight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Straight?” You opted for drinking it straight because you found the taste of vodka to be borderline unbearable, so you opted to take it as a shot. To get it over with rather than let the audacious taste linger on.

“Straight it is,” Sharon said, handing you your cup. “Oh, and I honestly don’t know how much I poured. Let my hand loose if you know what I mean.” The girl chuckled. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and drank the shot all at once. You did the same, cringing at the taste, feeling as if you were about to puke.

“Water!” Sharon immediately scrambled for a glass of water on seeing your expression. She handed the glass to you, her expression wary.

“All good.” You said as you kept the glass down.

“Hah great! I’m gonna go look for Harry now.”

“Oh yeah, have fun.” You said smiling at her, your speech a bit slurred.

You made your way to the back of the house and sat next to the pool. Your head started to spin, and a newfound sense of numbness settled over your bones. One that you found quite relaxing. You closed your eyes and hummed contently, the loud music and presence of people no longer bothering you as it was before.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice. You opened your eyes and saw Harry walk towards you.

“Hello, Harry!” You said enthusiastically, smiling as wide as you possibly could.

“You seem to be in a nice mood.” Harry chuckled at your behaviour.

“Come, sit next to me.” You gestured towards the space beside you. Harry took you up on your offer, sitting on the lounge chair next to you.

“You know, it took me two hours to straighten my hair. Not that it was difficult, but because I kept on asking myself if I really wanted to come here. Then there was this whole dilemma of not knowing what to wear. I wanted to wear my jeans but Tara said I can’t wear them because she’s wearing them, then I thought I could wear leather pants but Regina said she’s wearing hers so I can’t wear mine, although they don’t even remotely look the same. And what’s so bad about having similar outfits.” You huffed out. Harry looked at you with both surprise and awe because you had never talked more than ten seconds with him.

“Well, I for one think you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” Harry said, looking at you with sincere eyes.

“Really?” You asked him. The doubt in your eyes made Harry want to hug and hold you.

“Really. I don’t think there’s anyone as beautiful as you here Y/N.” Harry said.

He didn’t miss the way your gaze softened, your lips dropping into a small smile. You drew closer to him. He could feel your bare thighs touch his and it was as if his entire being had narrowed down to the parts where your skin touched his. He felt his heart skip a few beats when you kept your head on his shoulder and held his hand in yours.

Oh, how he wished to kiss you at that moment! He had to physically stop his hand from trailing up your neck, all the way to your face. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin and kiss every inch of it, slowly and gently. He wished he could stretch time to its fullest and preserve this moment in a photograph that he could stow away in his pocket.

“Sharon was looking for you. Sorry, I didn’t tell you earlier.” You whispered, half expecting him to get up and leave.

“It’s okay,” Harry replied quietly, his grip on your tightening as he pulled you in closer.

4th March 2014

11:16 p.m

The month of March is a month full of oddities and complexities. It seems to be a kind of cloth wherein the hem was left undone, leaving it to fray in any and every direction. You do not know what to expect until you step outside. The sunshine that seems to be warm from your window is truthfully cold, or the chilling wind blowing outside is actually warm. Needless to say, March is a month with its seam left undone.

And in that undone seam, in a mess of threads and needles is where you found yourself. A new set of feelings dawned on you. Feelings for Harry. You felt your heart skip a few beats every time you looked at him. But there was Sharon, his girlfriend and more importantly your friend. This constant tug of war between what you desire and what is morally incorrect tired you. You tucked away all your worries in the back of your head for tonight, your sole focus being the movie playing in front of you.

You get up from the couch in which you lay to fetch yourself a bag of crisps. While making your way to the kitchen, your doorbell rang. You were expecting no one, especially not at this time. A million scenarios rushed through your head, full of probable outcomes (albeit most of them ended up with you dead on your living room floor). The doorbell rang a second time now. You picked up your ornithology textbooks, two of them together hoping that the sheer width of them combined would help you knock out whoever it was outside.

You open the door, half ready to start swinging like hell when you see Harry. The top buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned, showing his built chest and muscled arms. His broad shoulders seemed to block out your doorway.

He looked ravishing.

You mentally smacked yourself for thinking in such a way about a boy who happened to be in a relationship, that too with a girl who happened to be your friend. “What are you doing here Harry? Sharon’s apartment is the one on the right.” You said, envisioning that him ringing your doorbell was an honest mistake.

“I know.” He said, smiling at you. He leaned against your doorframe, towering over you. You crossed your arms and looked at him.

Harry did not miss the way you scanned him up and down, how your breath so subtly hitched when you saw his chest. He found the flimsy night suit you wore to be quite cute, if not tempting. A button-up half-sleeved satin shirt with red hearts all over it and a pair of dangerously short shorts to accompany it.

“What’re you watching?” Harry said, walking in and sitting on your sofa. “Rio, huh? Good choice I’d say.” He said, smiling at you, stretching his body.

“Make yourself right at home will ya?” You muttered under your breath. “Why are you here though?” You asked him as you settled down next to him.

“Do you mind my company? Although I don’t think so.”

“Is there something you want from me? If so, just ask me so that we can stop with the small talk bullshit.” You firmly said.

“Yes actually, I do want something,” Harry said turning to look at you.

“Which is?”

“To spend time with you.”

“What?”

“I just told you what I want, kitten,” Harry said. You were grateful for the low lighting in your living room that hid the blush creeping on your face.

“You’re drunk Harry.” You reprimanded him. He only smiled at you, rolling his eyes playfully. “Just a bit tipsy Y/N.”

“Hmm. Okay, what do you want to watch then?” You ask, turning your focus away.

“Rio’s good.” He said.

“Okay.”

You resume the movie and lean back. Harry watched you intently. He noted every moment of yours, the way your chest would rise and freeze when something would happen in the movie, the way your lips would morph into a smile and your eyes fill with wonder.

Harry slowly started to inch towards you, careful not to make too much noise. He tried to be as subtle as he could, stretching and spreading his legs simply to touch yours. He could see you relax as well, your upright posture now dissolving into a lazy spread. Slowly, inch by inch Harry moved towards you as if you were a magnet pulling him in your direction.

He put his arm behind you. His thighs touched yours and from the corner of his eye, he could see you in freeze. He smirked and continued to move closer.

The warmth radiating from Harry was more welcoming than you were willing to admit. A million questions raced through your head, ‘is this right?’, ‘This is wrong,’ ‘he has a girlfriend’ and most importantly, ‘I shouldn’t be feeling this way.’ However, in all reality, you were caught up in the exact same feelings the rational part of your brain was telling you to avoid. But you didn’t care.

So you nestled further in Harry’s embrace, falling into him. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his muscled arm come around and wrap your shoulders. You could feel the sheer strength of his chest, feel every sculpted muscle of his under your head. Your skin felt as if it were on fire, fire that did not burn you but only tingled you. A tingle that you felt erupting in the lower part of your stomach.

You look up to see Harry gazing down at you. “I gather you don’t find the movie interesting.” You said, he only smiled gently at you.

“Talking birds aren’t really my preference.” He said, his voice sounding raspy.

“Oh, I can change it,” you said, getting up but Harry pulled you down, which made you land on top of him. You were now sitting on his lap, your expression that of extreme fluster. “That won’t be necessary,” Harry said. He looked at you with a gaze that threatened to devour you as a whole. He dragged his thumb over your lip slowly.

Your breathing went shallow all of a sudden. The flimsy material of your nightshirt wasn’t thick enough to hide how your nipples hardened under his touch. “What are you doing?” You asked him, your words a mere pant leaving your lips.

“What I dreamt of doing for so long,” Harry said.

He slowly inched his head towards you, his lips inviting you. It suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and he was the source of oxygen. The second your lips met with his you could feel your lungs fill with the air you lacked before.

Harry moved his hands up and down your body, feeling you as deeply as he could. Every inch of your skin, from the pads of your fingertips to your chest was on fire. A fire that Harry’s hands ignited in their wake. A fire that seemed to only burn and burn.

You started grinding your hips. Feeling his hard bulge under you. A desperate moan escaped his lips. You started to circle your hips more deeply, pressing your hot and dripping centre against him. You could feel the denim of his pants rub through the flimsy material of your shorts.

You were both a mess of pants and moans. Kissing each other as if the world threatened to end. A moan was about to fall off your lips when the bell rang. You shot up, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay angel.” He said, cupping your face in his hand.

You got up from his lap, now consciously aware of what had just happened.

“Y/N! Let me in!” Sharon spoke from the other end of the door. Your eyes were wide in alarm as you turned towards Harry. “Bathroom! Go!” You whispered to him, dragging him to your bathroom.

Once Harry was in, you opened the door. “Hi Sharon, what’s got you knocking on my door at this time?”

Sharon only rolled her eyes and walked in. “I don’t know what to wear tomorrow.” She sighed dramatically.

“Why what’s tomorrow?” You ask her.

“Harry’s taking me out.” She said as if you had asked a silly question.

“Oh.”

“I was thinking of wearing my red dress, or maybe the white one y’know the one with pearls and-”

“Sharon, listen I’d love to do this, but just not now.” You said, your voice meek.

“Why're you acting like this?” She asked you, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Like what?” You feigned innocence, already feeling guilty for refusing her.

“Like you have someone here. Do you, though?” She asked you, almost sounding accusatory.

Be calm. Be calm.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Anyways, you go to bed or whatever you were doing.” She said leaving your apartment.

You let out a deep breath and walked towards the washroom. You opened the door and saw Harry, standing behind the shower curtain, his brawny structure making him stick out like a sore thumb.

“You can come out now.” You said.

“Ah thank God, I thought I’d have to stay here the whole night.” He chuckled.

“No, Sharon was just asking what to wear for her date tomorrow. A date that you’re taking her on.” You stated blandly.

“Oh.”

“Oh God, this was never supposed to happen. What have we done?” You said dragging your palms down your face. Before you could say another word Harry hugged you. He hugged you long and tight.

And despite knowing better, you melted in his arms like putty.

28th March 2014

3:27 p.m

You sat in your car, in the parking lot outside the rugby stadium, waiting for Harry. This is what your life has come to now. Waiting outside in parking lots to meet Harry, subtle brushes against each other, locking eyes with each other. Harry did the same, waiting for you outside your classes, entering your apartment at odd times. Your relationship had transgressed from being purely physical to being a more emotional one. You would both simply sit next to each other, talking.

The world didn’t seem so lonely anymore for the two of you.

You look outside to see Harry walk towards you. His hair was wet and he wore a compression shirt that highlighted his muscled build along with loose baggy sweatpants. He smiled looking at you, a smile you had come to know was only reserved for you. He didn’t smile like this with Sharon or with his friends, a part of your heart fluttered at this knowledge.

“Hello, my love,” Harry said, getting in the car.

“Hi. How was practice?” You asked him.

“It was good, tiring as always. How were classes?” Harry asked you while throwing his duffel bag in the back of the car.

“Fine. Sharon wanted me to go out with her, Regina and Tara tonight.” You stated blandly. The sound of Sharon's name brought a lot of unwanted guilt in your head.

“Are you going?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. They don’t talk to me as much when sober, I doubt the outcome’s going to be different when they’re drunk.” You sighed. Your hands fidgeted with the steering wheel of the car. The rings on your hand clacked against it faintly.

“You can always change the people you’re around Y/N,” he said

“But I can’t,”

“But you can.”

“You can, I can’t. Being able to make friends or even just talk to people doesn’t come to me as naturally as it does to you, Harry.” You sighed, becoming frustrated at both the conversation at hand and your lack of social skills.

“It’s okay. I get it.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand.

“Do you, though?” You shot back, scoffing.

“Y/N, come on don’t be like this.” Harry pleaded. His voice was soft and buttery, coaxing you into a better place.

“Yeah, I’m sorry there’s just a lot that’s been on my mind as of late.” You breathed through your nose deeply. Your head felt heavy with all the anxiety you’d been feeling lately.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, I'm okay. Thank you.” You whispered meekly.

Harry slowly brushed his hand over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, gazing into his eyes as a smile crept up your face. You leaned towards him and kissed him. You cupped his face with your hands and drew him into you. He unbuckled his seat belt quickly and pulled you onto his lap, albeit it was uncomfortable because of the tight place.

You moaned at his touch, capturing his lip between your teeth and tugging at it. Harry was left absolutely breathless by your actions and pulled you down harder, his hands squeezing your hips and waist. You could feel every muscle of his flex because of the thin compression shirt he wore.

“Careful now. Don’t want anyone to see us.” You whispered in his ear.

“What if I do?” Harry said, looking at you with an intense gaze.

Your lower lip jutted out subtly, a subtle reflection of what you thought of his words. “Everyone’s going to call you a cheater and they’ll call me something worse probably.” You chuckled sadly. You gave Harry a sincere kiss on his cheek and made your way for your seat.

“So what’s the plan for tonight? Are you going or not?” He asked you.

“No.” You answered as you started the car.

“Then how about a movie night? Just the two of us.”

“Hm, at my place and I’ll decide what to watch obviously.” You said smiling at him.

“Whatever you say kitten,” Harry said, holding your hand and kissing it.

4th April 2014

10:07 p.m

The black sky above glistened with a million stars, your eyes fixated on them. Harry watched you watching the stars. He smiled to himself. He longed for you in a silent and torturous way. You often felt worlds away from him even when you were right next to him. He blamed his lack of decisiveness for this distance. He knew deep down that the distance between you two would eventually strangle the life out of the relationship you shared. He was desperate for you, pining only for you. His world would stop moving when you’d call him by his name, all his focus narrowing on you.

“It’s breathtaking.” You gasped looking up.

“It truly is,” Harry said, looking at you.

You were sceptical at first when Harry said he knew a spot. After a drive of half an hour, you found yourself at the peak of a small hill, untouched by civilisation except for a small concrete bench. It not only overlooked the whole city but also had a magnificent view of the sky above. The stars weren’t so explicitly visible in the city as they were here.

The cool air blew against your cheeks, kissing your face gently.

“Come, sit with me,” Harry said, calling to you. You walk towards him and sit next to him on the bench.

You sigh through your nose and look ahead. “I think about it sometimes, what our first date would look like.” You said. Your voice sounded mournful as if you were grieving the loss of a relationship that never existed.

“I’d get you flowers, maybe even chocolates if you’re lucky that day,” Harry said. He looked at you and saw how glazed your eyes were.

“But it doesn’t matter. You’re with Sharon, who hates me. And you know what’s even more pathetic, it’s the fact that she hates me yet she’s my friend.” You spoke, your voice wobbly and cracking. You often felt like a washing machine. Everyone would come and go and leave a piece behind in it. Sometimes the piece would break you, unable to function for months or sometimes it would simply stay there. That was worse, having a piece of someone stay forever even as the washing machine in your heart desperately tried to cleanse you of it. “It’s just the hand I was dealt with.” You quickly added.

“Why don’t you say something to them? You don’t deserve to be walked over all like that. You can’t let that happen to you.” Harry said.

“The same way you’re walking all over me now?” You chuckled darkly.

“What?”

“What are we, Harry? Are we just fucking? Are we just friends? What are we?” You ask the question that had been looming over the both of you like an axe that could drop any moment.

“I wish I could answer that,” Harry said, his head in his hands now.

“What have I done?” You whispered to yourself.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this Y/N. I swear.” Harry pleaded, holding your hands in his.

“Why did you kiss me that day?” You asked him, tears now falling from your eyes.

“Because it’s always been you. You, who I wanted all along.” He confessed.

The silence after his confession was all consuming, threatening to eat him up alive. Harry caught a glimpse of you, staring straight at the skyline. Silent tears fell from your eyes. He wanted to reach out and rub away your tears but refrained from doing so. The world seemed to close up on him. He missed the way it opened up with you.

“Y/N, angel? Say something.” Harry said with a soft voice. “Please.” He begged.

You turned to look at him. Harry looked devastating. A handsome prince you dreamt of as a kid. He was a prince, but not yours to claim rather only to keep for a fleeting moment. You brought a hand to his face and smiled sorrowfully at him.

“I suppose this is how things were supposed to be all along.” You whispered resignation etched in your voice.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, knowing the direction you were steering things in all too well.

“You have Sharon, Harry. Go to her.” You said.

Both of you sat there, time stretching painfully as if the universe was mocking your agony. Your eyes met one last time, a gaze full of regret and all things left unsaid. You leaned in, capturing Harry’s lips in your own for the last time. The kiss was hesitant at first, both of you afraid as if pressing too hard would shatter the fragile moment between you two. It was a kiss full of the things you couldn’t say, the dreams you had for one another, the conversations you shared.

And for Harry, as he kissed you a part of him mourned the confession that would never find its way to you. A three worded sentence, one that would change his life and yours.

I love you.

3rd May, 2014

1:17 p.m

“It’s amazing, how she’s just disappeared all of a sudden,” Sharon said, twirling her hair.

“Wait, who disappeared?” Harry asked her.

“Y/N.”

Harry and Sharon sat next to each other in her apartment. The wound you left in Harry’s heart was one he was doubtful would close. He dreamt of you, thought of you and longed for you. But he knew his thoughts would not materialise and you would only remain a figment of his past, a memorial of the right person wrong time concept.

“What do you mean?” He pressed the girl further.

“Ugh, I wasn’t supposed to tell this to anyone but I can’t keep it in me anymore. She’s leaving for Rio tomorrow, she’s got an internship at some sanctuary. I think the Sun would do her some good actually.” Sharon chuckled.

“Oh.” He felt his world was spinning.

“She's yet to give me my sweater. She’s actually supposed to give it today.”

Perhaps if it were fate, perhaps it was circumstance but whatever it was, Harry was thankful for it when the bell rang. “Don’t worry I’ll get it. You stay here.” He said and kissed Sharon’s head. He hoped it was you on the other side of the door.

And his prayers were answered.

There you were, standing in the doorway with a sweater in your hand. Your eyes widened slightly at Harry’s enormous yet so familiar frame, and his face, the same face that swept you off your feet now made you wary.

“You’re going to Rio?” Harry asked you.

“Yes. It’s an internship.” You curtly answered. You tried to walk in but Harry blocked your way, his muscled arm blocking your way.

“For how long?” He asked, cornering you as if you were prey and he a predator.

“Five years. They’ll start paying me after three months, so it’s more like a job I guess.” You said.

“And when were you going to tell me about it?” He asked you, his face stern and stoic.

“It’s not like we were dating.” You harshly said.

Harry hated this. This newfound sense of coldness between the two of you. He wondered how something so warm became so cold this quickly. The cold you left behind was one that could not be thawed, Harry would only have to live it.

“I love you Y/N,” Harry confessed. He didn’t miss the way your eyes softened, even if only for a moment.

“Lie to me again. I dare you.” You asserted, walking up to him. Your eyes were dark, distant and cold. Like a cold desert that never seemed to end.

“I’m not lying. I love you. I always have and always will.”

“I’d rather you not.”

—————-

A/N: Let me know how you like it in the comments and reblogs! I love talking to you all, send me asks and whatever you feel like! Thank you so much for reading!

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

October Week 5 - Getting Crafty

This week is all about getting our hands dirty and working on those fantastic books we’ve been making. Papercrafting and decorating and fancy writing, if that is your chosen medium. Or even how to make pretty digital pages! This week is about bringing the grimoires to life! Lots of links and ideas this week for inspiration (grimspiration?) on ways to put our books together!

Monday - Digital Mediums

I know some of these require payment and subscriptions, and there are plenty of other free options out there if anyone knows of them feel free to add them in a reply or reblog!

Gimp - Photo/ Image Editing

Adobe Photoshop - Photo/ Image Editing

Word/ Excel (Or wordpad, cause its free) -

Tuesday - Papercrafting

Scrapbooking

1 - Tips and Tricks

2 - Ideas

3 - Witchy Ideas

A general search on the internet, Youtube, or Pinterest will give a bunch of other ideas! Some things I've done in my own include pages with envelopes and scraps of paper with sigils on them, s bit of foil on a page dedicated to mirror magic, and a functioning, turning wheel of the year!

Junk Journaling

Pinterest - Witchy Junk journal Ideas

Youtube - How to Junk Journal

Bullet Journal

How to

Witchy Themed

Witchy Ideas

Journal

How to

Guide to Journaling

Wednesday - Stickers and Ephemera

This kind of speaks for itself. But like anything on the crazy old internet, its all about tags and searching. Think about the tags you follow here on tumblr. Witch, witchy, grimoire, dark academia, vintage, plant and flower, magic, magick, wicca, paganism etc. Be as specific in some cases as you can be, though a vague search will sometimes lead you to what you're looking for. Below are a few places I've found things to use in my papercrafted grimoire journey.

Amazon/ Temu

Etsy/ Bigcartel/ Depop any of those!

Small business/ Artists

Art from friends

Thursday - Other things to add and other links

No draw art ideas!

So you want to build a grimoire - Patheos

Laurel's Guide -Tumblr

Cauldron and Brew - Wordpress

Don't hesitate to add anything you can think of both written/ typed or physical trinkets to your grimoire. It doesn't have to be neat and trim, unless that's what you're going for. It can be overstuff and gritty. Whatever works for you! Add twigs in the shape of runes, charms, crystals, leaves or flowers, plants, anything! Locks of hair, photographs, charts and graphs, anything and everything you can think of. It is literally yours to create how you wish!

Friday - do the thing!

Now that we’ve covered a bunch of links with all kinds of ideas, get crafty! Make your pages! Or take the pages you’ve started and decorate them! Make them your own! Whether your grimoire is form over function or function over form, make it yours!

Don't let these be the limit of your creative searches! Find more online tools, find more physical books, find inspiration for your creation anywhere and everywhere, but most importantly, express yourself freely within your grimoire!

-Mod Hazel

[airplanned]

TotK Mini Fic

Do not read unless you’ve gotten all the memories and done the Tarry Town stuff.  For real.  Scroll on.

I’m this far into the game, so please don’t tell me more in the comments.

I’ve seen some people write angst, and--y’all--no.  This is the BEST.

Maybe it’s Rhondson’s own melancholy, but Link looks down.  He is not as excited as a man about to buy a dream home should be.  Distractedly, he stares off into the sky behind her as if searching for something, as if thinking really hard.

“So what do you think?” she chirps, trying to put enough excitement for both of them into her sales pitch. (It’s so rude of him to make her do that.  Doesn’t he realize that she’s having a hard day, sending her baby off?)

“I already have a��It’s complicated.”

“Look, I’ll give you’re a discount for all your help.  This could be your dream home!  Completely customizable!  And everyone could do with more space!”

He freezes.  He blinks rapidly a few times, and she can see the gears turn, see him come back to himself.  His face seems to light up as he finally looks her in the eye.

“How much space?”

 #

 Link’s house looks like a pagoda.  Tall and open.  He’s put some ramps on top to give a bad illusion of a slanted roof.

And…well…to each their own. That is the beauty of the Hudson Dream Home: if you can dream it, they can build it.

The first floor is a big square of normal house things. His bedroom tucked behind the stairs, a display of swords that…well, no one knows how he got swords that look untouched by decay, but there they are.  A prominent kitchen where he’ll show off that latest fruitcake he’s made for his girl. “We play this game where I try to throw bites into her mouth.”

There are piles of giant glowing scales and what look like shining monster claws. They look like they were neatly sorted at one point, but now there are just too many.   What are they? And why does it feel like they sing? For potions, he says.  And sometimes he fuses them to weapons.  

If anyone notices the tiny study he has tucked away, he gets bashful, rubbing the back of his head and saying that his girl likes quiet when she’s working.  If she ever…well, if she…he wanted to have a space ready for her.

“One time she asked if I would still love her if she turned into a wyrm.”  Then he laughs.

There are paintings. One of him and the princess and some other people all smooshed together for a group shoot.  One of Link and four glowing ghostly figures, all of them smiling.

Then there’s the one of the dragon.  It takes up the whole wall and is nearly life sized.  Link holds his slate out at arm’s length to catch his beaming face and one, giant, dragon eye framed with gold lashes.

If anyone comments on the dragon, he gets excited and says something like, “Isn’t she pretty?” or “Her face is very soft,” or “Do you see her antlers?  Aren’t they neat?”

Honestly, asking about anything Link gets up to just leads to more questions.  It’s not worth it.

The second floor is open to the air like a gazebo.  Around that, on the roof of the first floor, he’s put flower beds, which he tends with care, frowning over journals and botany books.  After a few weeks, the flower bloom, lighting up at night with a blue-white light you can see from Tarry Town.  Sometimes they’ll catch him carrying a bouquet.  “Bringing them to my girl.  I think I can braid them into her hair.”

As he plants his hands on his hips and surveys his construction with pride and hope, he explains, “She takes up a lot of space.  I imagine she’ll kind of…spread.”  He waves his hands a bit to express that she would presumably leave stuff everywhere.

He seems delighted by the prospect.

“If I can get her to visit, I think she’ll like this.  Yeah,” he sighs.  “She’ll like this.”

[ohmypawsandwhiskers]

WIP Wednesday Pt. 2!

I wanted to share a bit more of the fic I have been working on for Erwin's birthday before I get back to beading the moccasins. It is just making me feel a lot, and it isn't finished yet but I need to at least get a portion out XD

“Seeing as it’s your birthday, and people give gifts or whatever on birthdays, I made you something,” Dani’s words stumble over themselves as she looks everywhere but him, keeping an eye out for any potential witnesses to this exchange. It’s comical, in a way, for Erwin to see her so evidently out of her comfort zone.

Still, he didn’t expect any presents. Being brought to powwow had been more than he expected this morning, as far as birthday activities went.

“You didn’t need to do that. You and your family have given me plenty today-“

“Shh” her eyes finally meet his, shining with the smile she can’t bring herself to make as she purses her lips. “You’ll ruin it. Let me do this.” Dani sighs and runs a hand over her brow while the other remains behind her back. “I wanted to make you something. I don’t know what it’s like to be completely without family on a day that’s supposed to be happy, but I can only imagine it makes the world feel dull and heavy- I saw that much when I found you this morning, and, I don’t know, I guess I wanted to try and make it feel like you don’t ever have to be alone. Or, whatever. Just… here.”

She stops her rambling and shoves a hastily wrapped present into his hands before looking away, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip nervously.

With careful hands, Erwin undoes the twine that keeps the crumpled colored gauze around the present before removing the rough and sheer fabric until a leather-bound journal is revealed, dyed a deep blue and adorned with beads to look like the night sky.

“You did all of this today?” he asked skeptically, as he examines the book with a careful eye at each stitch and mark made onto the leather.

“Well, I made the notebook bit earlier, but I did the bead work today, as well as the inscription inside- you know, since you never saw my letter.”

Erwin recalls the times he was trying to get her to sit down and focus, but her attention was drawn to sewing the leather onto the cover of a blank notebook. At the time, he figured it was just another way to keep from doing an activity in which she had no interest-

“I had been working on this as a gift to thank you after all of the lessons, since I noticed you really like writing, and your notebook was almost filled, but then you said it was your birthday so I figured rather than wait ages for me to master writing, I’d finish it up now and get it to you…”

As Dani continues to ramble, nervously awaiting his reaction, words fail as tears threaten to surface again, but this time, they are tears of gratitude and a full heart. He flips open the book to the first page where, with clumsy but cautious with its effort, Dani had penned words:

When we remain, we will not be like the beautiful bones of a forgotten city. When we remain, we will be the flowers and the trees and the vines that overcome the forgotten city. We have woven ourselves into the cloth of the earth. We have mixed our breath into the expanding sky.

“It’s the translation to a song my grandmother used to sing to Nev and me after our mother passed. It never failed to bring us peace I know it’s not much, but happy birthday. My wish is that every time you look at this, you remember you are never alone. Even our lost ones are here with us.”

Two beats of silence pass before Erwin breaks into a smile and pulls Dani into a tight hug. Despite the initial stiffness and reluctance with which she receives the hug, hands frozen outstretched in shock, she eventually relaxes and returns the hug. The unspoken emotions, the grief and relief in not being as alone as he thinks, are conferred through their embrace.

It surprises her, not when his shoulders slightly shake as he silently lets out the tears he had been holding back all day, but when her own eyes prickle with the stinging heat. And rather than pull away from the hug, Dani stands her ground, enduring and welcoming it because something about him that is strange but it calls to her, plucking a similar chord that had been urging her all year to stay by his side. Something that tells her they are sailing in the same direction, a life line tethered to their bows.

No pressure tags: @askweisswolf @sleepy-sham @topaz-carbuncle @atruewarrior @musings-and-fandoms

@jayteacups @liveforlevi @the-rebel-archivist @the-mpreg-guy and anyone else that would like to participate!

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 15)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

I move my character through the virtual landscape of Flower Forest, interacting with the townsfolk and continuing toward my goal of beautifying the town. This is of course on top of my other goals, like paying off my mortgage to the village's local snooty businessman Mr. Buck, and running my own little flower shop. I'm glad I have free time this weekend to play on my FlexPad, but shouldn't I be doing something a little more productive?

As I lay on my bed, immersed in the wonders of virtual gardening, an open box in the corner of my room catches my eye. It's the only box I haven't completely sorted through from the move, since it's full of things I don't exactly have a place for yet. I heave a sigh. I should at least try to get settled in before the end of Carmen.

I stand up with a stretch, setting down my FlexPad and walking towards the box. I peer inside to see a mess of contents ranging from junk drawer material to family keepsakes. I pull out a long, heavy metal object and examine it. It's a silver bowling trophy I won some time in stage 3. I got second place in an all-girls competition with a score of 116. Not that impressive, but a fun memory. Plus it's probably the only trophy I've ever won. I look around the room for a place to put it and decide the shelf beside my bed will do. I place the silver bowling pin beside a picture of Dad and me.

Returning to the box, I reach in and pull out a small, smooth object. It's a rock with a silly face drawn on in marker. 'Rocky' was his name, I believe. When I was little and wanted a pet, Dad made this thing for me to take care of since pets aren't allowed in the undercity. I was supposed to 'feed' it every day, 'play' with it, and do all the things you're supposed to do to care for an animal. Shockingly, playing with a rock turned out to be a bore, so I stopped taking care of Rocky. I have no use for this thing, but since Dad made it, I can't bring myself to throw it away. Especially not with that goofy expression it's making. Into my desk drawer it goes, I guess.

I continue going through the box like this, pulling out knick-knacks and heirlooms alike, finding places in my room for some things, and throwing out others until I've nearly reached the bottom of the box. One of the few items remaining is a cream-colored journal with blue morning glories adorning its glossy cover. It's bursting at the seams with papers and paper clippings, and is held together by a burgundy ribbon. I sigh. I remember when Dad first showed me this thing.

It was a few days before the move, and we were trying to get rid of as many things as possible so we wouldn't have to move so much. That proved a bit difficult, however, seeing as my dad had lived in that apartment in Maedri since before I was even born. Needless to say, he had a lot of stuff. The day came when we managed to clear out most of his unwanted and unneeded things, and all that remained was an unassuming box in the back of his closet with no label. It was a decent-sized box, but not too heavy. It wasn't closed all the way, and the top was covered in dust. I had asked about the box in the past, but Dad seemed to want to avoid it for whatever reason. That day, I would find out why.

Dad set the box down on the floor and sat down beside me with a sigh. He eyed the box for a moment before flipping open the cover and sending dust everywhere, which resulted in the two of us suffering through a coughing fit. Once we recovered, Dad reached into the box and pulled out a long, blue article of clothing, explaining that it was my mom's favorite cardigan. To my surprise, I still have a few vague memories of her wearing it.

Dad pulled out a few other things, all belonging to my mom. There was a scarf, some old art supplies, a poetry book, an indoor planter I decided I would keep, a few novels, and a flute to name a few. But what really caught my attention was a journal with flowers on it. I've always loved nature, and I know my mom did too, so I wondered what was inside. Upon retrieving the journal from the box, Dad looked it over for a moment. He had a smile on his face, but I could see him getting misty-eyed.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the book.

"This was your mom's art journal," Dad said. "This book contains nearly every drawing she made since before we were even together."

Dad flipped through the journal. Mom had doodled little flowers on napkins, and drawn elaborate portraits on scrap paper.

Dad handed me the journal. "I think your Mom would want you to have this," he said.

I took the book and turned the pages in awe. One page in particular was a watercolor piece, depicting a girl I could only assume was my mom with some enormous bluebells dangling above her. She looked up at them with wonder filling her eyes. I looked at the painting with the same wonder. How did she learn to draw flowers with such detail?

I turned a few more pages and was shocked at what I saw next. My mother painted herself, again in watercolor, dancing in the palm of a perthean's hand! One masculine hand held the twirling figure, while another held her hand from above, as if they were dancing together. I slammed the book shut.

I haven't opened the journal since then, although now I'm a bit curious as to what else is inside. I guess I'll leave it on my desk.

That leaves the planter. It's still a bit dusty, but it's nothing a damp cloth can't fix. I gaze at the planter's plug, its cord yellowed and worn with age. Could this thing really still work? I guess there's only one way to find out. I set the planter on my desk, and after a moment's hesitation, fit the plug into an outlet on the wall. There's a spark, which causes me to flinch back and let out a yelp, but to my surprise the light on the planter somehow manages to flicker to life when I press the power button.

I turn my eyes to a shopping tote beside my desk. My hand feels around the inside of the canvas bag until it finds and pulls out a small white envelope with a picture of my mom's favorite flower on it. I give the packet a gentle shake and listen as tiny pansy seeds rattle around inside. Sounds like there's more than enough to fill the planter. I feel around the inside of the tote again, absentmindedly nudging a receipt out of the way, and find a sturdy bag at the bottom. I lift the bag, which is rather heavy for its size, out of the tote and set it down on my desk with a small thud. I've never worked with soil before, and the only gardening I've ever done has been virtual. Since the planter is old, it doesn't have instructions with it anymore, but I'm sure I can figure out what to do. How hard can it be to fill pods with dirt, bury seeds, water them, and turn a light on? And after all, my mom definitely had a green thumb, so hopefully I inherited some gardening skills from her.

Upon tearing open the bag, the earthy scent of potting soil invades my nostrils. It has a note of sweetness to it, which I find strange. I'm reminded of the smell of moist dirt when it rains above ground. I carefully tip the bag over one of the empty pods on the planter until a steady stream of soil spills out. I must have tipped the bag a bit too far, though, since nearly half the contents spill out all over the planter, the desk, and my lap. I let out a sigh. I guess I'll have to vacuum. I try to collect the soil from my lap in my hands, but most of it manages to slip between my legs and onto the floor. Looking down at my last pair of good jeans, they're covered in dirt stains. I should probably wash them, along with the rest of the clothes I've been procrastinating on washing.

I look back at the dusty planter, covered in dirt. This definitely isn't going like I hoped. I wonder what my mom would say about my failed attempt at gardening. Maybe I should leave the gardening to Flower Forest.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sit hunched over on the bench in the apartment's communal laundry room, my head down and my eyes fixed on my FlexPad. Flower Forest makes gardening seem so easy. How did I manage to mess things up so badly on my own?

The sound of another washing machine starting up catches my attention, and I look up to see a boy around my age nervously scanning the room for a free place to sit among everyone else doing their laundry this weekend. His green eyes and short black hair are familiar to me. I could almost swear I've seen him somewhere before. He pushes up his glasses as his gaze lands on me. His eyes widen, and he quickly looks away. I avert my gaze as my cheeks redden. I didn't mean to stare!

The boy finds a seat on the bench a few yards away from me when someone else leaves with their laundry basket. I try to focus on my game, but my mind keeps coming back to this boy. Really, where have I seen him before? Could I know him from school? Or have I just seen him around the apartment complex?

A pleasant melody ringing out alerts me that the dryer I'm using has completed its cycle. I set my FlexPad down beside me on the bench and stand with my basket to gather and fold my laundry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Back so soon?" Dad asks when I close the door to our apartment behind me, not looking away from his laptop.

"I guess I got in early enough that there was a free washer," I say, adjusting my grip on the basket under my arm so it doesn't slip. "Are you... working? On a Restday?"

"Yeah," Dad sighs, "I told a client I'd have this ad ready by Firsday, and it's still not done."

"Yikes. Well, don't overwork yourself," I say, turning to my room.

Bing-bong!

"Could you get that?" Dad asks.

Anxiety swells in my gut as I set my laundry basket down and turn back to the door. We aren't expecting anyone, and we didn't order anything that I know of, so I'm a little nervous as I peer through the peephole in the door to see who's standing outside of the apartment. To my surprise, it's the boy I saw in the laundry room! Blood rushes to my face. What's he doing here? I take a deep breath and hold it in before opening the door.

"H-hello?" I ask.

"Hi," the boy answers, his voice deeper and sharper in tone than I expected. He looks around the outside of the apartment, avoiding eye contact with me. "Is... this yours?" he asks begrudgingly as he holds out a FlexPad covered in familiar stickers of Catmium from Stranded and Mr. Buck from Flower Forest.

I stand there speechless, taking the FlexPad in my hands. "Yes! How did you—"

"You left it in the laundry room," the boy says before I can finish my sentence. "Just be more careful next time, alright?"

With that, the boy turns and speeds down the hall.

"Wait!" I call out. "Don't we know each other from somewhere? Maybe school?"

The boy flinches, stopping in his tracks. He turns his head back toward me only slightly. "I don't know," he says, his voice softer now, and nearly cracking. He clears his throat. "I don't know, maybe."

"Well, thanks for bringing my FlexPad back, um...?" I trail off, expecting the boy to give me his name.

He looks down and sighs. "Sam," he finally says, his tone a little softer than before.

"Thanks, Sam," I say. "I didn't even notice it had gone missing—"

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Sam bolting down the hall away from me.

"Hey!" I call out again. "Where are you going?!"

As Sam disappears around the corner, I contemplate the bizarre encounter that just took place. Just who is this guy? And what's his problem?

"Was that a friend from school?" Dad asks as I reenter the apartment.

"Honestly?" I chuckle in disbelief. "I have no idea."

[yingren]

five fine things.

FILL IN THE CATEGORIES BELOW WITH 3-5 THINGS YOUR CHARACTER CAN BE DEFINED BY. REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG!

TAGGED BY: myself because i stole this from my old blog TAGGING: anyone else that is as bored as me and likes filling these things out ( it's a lot and u absolutely don't have to read this or do it yourself!! )

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS / TRAITS:

tired, stubborn, curious, grim, quiet.

MEETINGS:

— a collision of bodies in the dark, shoulder against shoulder, hushed apologies and curses — on a path somewhere, two mismatched walking paces forcing you closer and closer, a tired conversation to keep the awkward silence away — tending to bruised knuckles, wrapping bandages around bloody traces of a fight, somewhere outside at 4am

SCENTS:

blooming spider lilies, hint of leather & cold metal, the grounding scent of rain on pavement, plain black coffee.

CLOTHING:

apart from the outfit we see him wearing in canon: same pants with a simple button up, whatever suit kafka insists he wears, a hanfu. rarely wears shorts of any kind. sleeps in pants (pajama, sweatpants etc) but shirtless.

OBJECTS:

his sword. items crafted by hand such as ceramics, pottery, sculptures, jewelry etc. things stolen from others. his glasses that you will never see him wear. his favorite pen. a phone always silenced. his journal.

VICES / BAD HABITS:

disappearing, without trace and/or warning, a few days of silence as he is off to places unknown. thrill-seeking, whether it be risky activities or desperately seeking a reaction or feeling from a fight or self-inflicted injuries. avoidant, shutting down any and all attempts at confronting his past.

BODY LANGUAGE:

often appears relaxed, moves almost soundlessly and with ease compared to his sometimes loud and intense outbursts. uncomfortable in his own body, does not like what he has become. rarely showing physical affection, on occasions where it happens it is most likely a fleeting hug. sometimes it's a grip of their sleeve to keep them from bumping into something or someone, a nudge to their side to soften the blow of a joke or an arm around their shoulders when they're injured. good reflexes, effortless and quick, throw something at him and he will most likely catch it. private, has a big personal space bubble, if you come to close he will move away and if you continue moving closer after that he will get annoyed. attempts to be let into the bubble that is his comfort zone need to be initiated by him or any attempts at affection or closeness will be rebuffed. this goes for strangers mostly but also literally anyone that isn't in his closest circle.

AESTHETICS:

dried flowers, preserved and cared for even in their death. late nights but early enough mornings to catch the sunrise, daggers, knives and weaponry, tangible nightmares, blood-stained clothes, ink-stained hands, wading through knee-deep water, tasting iron, scabs and scars

HOME:

people as a home. books literally everywhere. it's easy to be confused for a mess even though it isn't dirty. old and new books, paperback or bound, open or not. some bookmarked with little post-it notes. ask him and he'll know exactly where a specific book is. untouched leftovers in the fridge, signs of caring and kind companions that looks out for him. half finished crossword puzzles on his bed, his dresser, his bedside table, in the inside pocket of his jacket.

SONGS:

cold shoulder by 8graves, feel nothing by the plot in you, broken by lund

[dipperscavern]

Hi dippy!!! I know I’m late but congrats on 1k! The celebration idea is pretty epic. I’ve never seen someone do something like this before on here. Would ya mind if I got a fortune telling?? I’m not sure how to go about this so I’m just gonna turn off my brain and ramble. I’m sorry if this becomes too long 😅

I’m 4’10” (stumpy asf ik) and petite but curvy in “all the right places” as I’m told often. I’m black and an #audhdgirly (autism and adhd) so I am pretty awkward, shy, blunt/straightforward, energetic, and very quiet. That quiet shit goes out the window the moment i get to talking about one of my special interests tho (I could ramble on for hours without realizing it which can sometimes be embarrassing). Sarcasm goes straight over my head (bc of the ‘tism). I am always doing something to stimulate myself but I’m clumsy and often find random marks on me that make others concerned. I scare my loved ones often because when I’m overstimulated I tend to go nonverbal and find small, quiet places to be in alone and also bc I tend to go mia or wander around while lost in my head. (There has been too many instances in my life where a full on search party has been sent out to look for me when I’m literally just like under my bed, or in my closet, or something.) I have sensory issues like no fucking other and I’m incredibly creative for no reason at all. I enjoy spending time with my loved ones even if it’s being with them while they do something they like while I do my own things, or just sitting in silence with them (especially if I’m overstimulated) but I also cherish my alone time. I love physical touch (unless I’m overstimulated). I’m a cuddle bug (especially bc im cold all the time. like seriously it’s a problem). I am also very emotional and have meltdowns pretty routinely when upset. I do struggle to showcase my emotions physically (bc of the ‘tism) so most people don’t realize I’m upset until I start crying.

I LOVE food but I am a picky eater (bc of the ‘tism). My style is pretty cohesive. It’s a lot of soft sweaters, flowy skirts and dresses, tights, cardigans, mary janes, and bows in soft or deep colors like browns, tans, dark greens, dark blues, dark purples, whites, blacks, and pastels. I love books and film! I read and watch a lot of fantasy, horror, sci-fi, and mysteries. I’m really into history and love writing stories anywhere I can (I carry a journal and pen with me everywhere). I love autumn and winter so much. I love collecting things. I’m OBSESSED with music. I will listen to anything as long as I can vibe to it (from classical to heavy metal). I also play a few instruments including the violin, piano, and guitar. I really love museums, art galleries, fashion, sewing, crochet, and gardens(!). I love nature and animals so much and could wander in a garden for hours just looking at flowers, trees, other plants, and bugs and animals, and nature! I also enjoy making my loved ones things that they can use practically in their day to day life. I’m quiet but observant so I am usually able to make things that are personal to that specific person but benefit them in some way.

thank u for your congrats and i’m so glad u like the celebration!! come, come, and we shall gaze into this crystal ball of mine 🔮

oh… the one i see… are he and his friend gay? no no, wait, false alarm. ahem, moving forward — i see king in the north, robb stark. robb stark would love your curves, and tease you relentlessly about the height difference. he’d purposefully putting things on higher shelves so you need him to come get them (i hate him). robb loves sarcasm, but makes a big effort not to use it around you so he doesn’t confuse you, and would explain any sarcasm/anythign you’re confused about. he’s sooo caring about your clumsiness, always patching you up and catching you whenever you trip (you don’t know how he does it, he’s just suave like that you suppose). and robb loves quality time with u!! you guys doing your own things (as you said), but also knows when & respects when you need alone time. and robb lives for physical touch, he’s such a cuddle bug too’!!! and the garden part awh. robb taking you to highgarden once the war is over so you guys can stroll the gardens for as long as you like, as his thank you to you for sticking beside him all that time <3

[obsessedwithceleste]

Hii! I would like to be paired with a slytherin boy, please :)

I’m 18 (I don’t know if age influences anything). I have tan skin, brown eyes and long/ medium brown hair and I’m Latina (from Brazil to be specific :)). I wear glasses and I’m around 5’5. I like to think I’m a ravenclaw but my friends are always telling me I’m a slytherin, so im not sure. I’m an ambivert (my personality changes between introvert and extrovert depending on where I am), I’m a bit shy when I first get to know someone, but once I get comfortable I’ll be pretty much be my chaotic self. I’m very ambitious and driven, so I care a lot about my grades and studies. I’m a huge bookworm and always carry a book with me everywhere I go. I have a bunch of hobbies, such as reading (as I already mentioned), doing crochet, swimming (I compete and all that), doing ceramics, journaling etc. I also love traveling and meeting new places and cultures. I have a little obsession with fashion and wanted to work on the industry when I was little, but it didn’t really work out, so now I’m studying law. I’m a huge swiftie and I also love Gracie Abrams, Sabrina Carpenter and Olivia Rodrigo. Anyway, I don’t know what else to say. Thank you for your time and have a good day <3

Oh girl, I just know that we would be besties🫶🏽

Pairing: Blaise Zabini

Blaise is the most reserved of the Slytherin boys, often difficult to get a read on

He likes having a good time, but doesn’t always involve himself in the antics that his friends often find themselves in

You first run into each other out by the Black Lake. It was a pretty fall day, perfect for reading out on the lawn. One moment you’re transfixed by your novel, the next moment Blaise had appeared next to you, asking if he could join you

It all seemed quite normal to you, a sweet coincidence

It wasn’t

Blaise had been observing you for ages (he swears it wasn’t in a creepy way) silently admiring you from a far. Your pretty brown hair, the cute way you had to adjust your glasses when you were deep into your book, the way you seemed to burst into life around your friends

He finally worked up the courage to approach you that day and the two of you wind up talking for hours about anything and everything

Blaise also takes his academic studies quite seriously and the two of you easily spiral into a debate about your history of magic essays on elfish laws from the 1900’s

It’s not until the sun is low in the sky that you realize how long you’d been out there

Of course being the gentleman that he is, Blaise offers you his sweater as it had grown a bit chilly as he walks you back to the castle

The two of you make your way back into the castle, and you’re about to turn to leave when Blaise reaches out, catching you by the arm, and asks you to join him at Hogsmeade the following weekend

The day passes by perfectly like a sickeningly sweet montage straight out of a romance film

He loves to spoil you with little gifts and regular bouquets of flowers (his mother made certain that he knew how to treat his lady right)

Blaise finds that he loves your chaotic little bursts of energy and enjoys enabling you in all your endeavors

He also just loves spending time with you, whether you’re both just reading, studying, or he’s observing one of your many hobbies

Blaise definitely is not someone who likes to get messy, but one day you’re determined to teach him pottery and he somehow turns out to be a natural (?!?)

Being the only son of a famously rich widower, Blaise loves taking you around the world to visit his family’s different properties, especially the summer home in Italy

One night, you find yourselves splashing about in the lake near his family’s villa when his arms wrap around you, pulling you under the gentle waves

You barely have time to register anything before his lips are on yours (good thing he mastered the bubble-head charm) it’s warm and sweet and you just melt into each other

The two of you just fit effortlessly together, balancing each other out perfectly, lighting up when you’re together

[die-rosastrasse]

How do you keep yourself inspired to create art?

A lot of the inspiration comes from the conscious decision of filling your life with art and beauty and the mindfulness of what you consume. The first part mostly relates to the physical things that you surround yourself with, like art books, prints and paintings, clothes, decorating your apartment with special items that you find interesting, artistic and that reflect your taste and personality. It's also visiting galleries, museums, libraries, antique stores and historical places often and paying attention to details and motifs that you find there. Photographing, documenting them in a way that doesn't end up in a cluttered phone gallery, but in a special place that you can come back to. For me, the process of collecting the right materials is what inspires me a lot. That often includes old illustrated books, pressed flowers, vintage postcards and papers, polaroids, analogues, fabrics, poems, museum postcards and prints, scraps and keepsakes from special moments. Going through my old books and collection of vintage ephemera is always enough to motivate me to grab something out of the drawer and start a new project out of it. I believe the mindfulness of what you choose to view and interact with every day is also important. The movies, shows, music you pick, what you scroll through for hours on your phone. Like on social media, I don't follow celebrities or brands, instead my whole feed is filled with artistic and fascinating people, their photographs and their way of seeing beautiful things. It's of great importance to me to fill my whole life with my definition of beauty and sanctity, to have it surround me everywhere I go and look, so that the inspiration can always find me if I reach out my hand. There's a lot more I could write about my different journals and all the small ways of creating something every day, but for now, let it be my answer: it's choosing to make my life art.

[wonjinburger]

writing prompt #04

bumping into each other as solo travelers ; park sunghoon

태양보다 찬란한 . . . 그게 바로 나

INFO : : park sunghoon x reader / romcom

wc : <1600

notes : this was lowkey rushed bcs i had an idea at 12am but i had to go sleep but i couldn't risk losing the idea

20 JANUARY 2023 : :

2:04 - it's currently 2am and i've just landed in paris, and i'm now heading to my hotel room to take a long ass nap.

13:12 - jk the nap lasted from around 11 hours. now it's 1pm and i'm going to go out for lunch. i've heard a lot of good word about a specific cafe so i'm gonna go try it out!

13:37 - the weirdest things just happened what the fuck? i bumped into this guy, who was really hot btw, by accident. obviously i apologized for it like a normal person but he just scoffed at me and left?? thanks for that random stranger.

23 JANUARY 2023 : :

12:02 - i just had a quick snack and i'm currently on the train to versailles, i wanted to have a quick look at all the beautiful architecture. i find versailles to be such a romantic and beautiful place lol

12:28 - i've arrived at versailles! i have a tour booked for today at 1pm, so i guess i'll walk around versailles for now.

13:13 - no fucking way, the guy i bumped into a few days ago is here too, like, in the same tour group as me. i said hi and he basically looked at me weird and left me standing. thank god idk this guy and i'll never see him again, he seems like an ass.

14 APRIL 2023 : :

10:16 - hi journal, today i'm in the netherlands, i heard about the keukenhof tulip garden and of course i had to come here. i just had breakfast at the hotel i'm staying in and i'm about to head out to the garden to see all the pretty flowers!

11:11 - THE GARDEN IS SO PRETTY OMG BUT THAT EXPERIENCE WAS LOWKEY RUINED. by who you may ask? by FUCKING FRANCE DUDE?? WHY IS HE EVERYWHERE???? like i was taking photos of the pretty flowers and boom, suddenly i see him through the lens of my camera, please get this guy out of my life

11 MAY 2023 : :

00:01 - i have finally done one of the things off my bucket list, and that is to visit switzerland! i always saw tiktoks and photos of the amazing view and obviously i had to come see for myself, but it's 12am rn and i am really tired so i'm gonna go sleep, then i'll explore in the morning

11:42 - okay i woke up a few minutes ago which is quite late, but i'm gonna go down to the hotel's cafeteria and have some brunch before i explore the town

4:51 - hi this isn't funny anymore, i literally just set foot into an eatery near one of the places i was visiting and i see france dude, AGAIN. can he just get out of my life atp please, i'm so sick of seeing his annoying (but ig good-looking) face. AND WHY IS THE ONLY AVAILABLE SEAT LIKE NEXT TO HIS TABLE???

-- (☆)

i'm going back home to korea today, i think i've been travelling way too much, so i'm going to go home and rest up and spend time with my family and some friends.

i boarded the plane and by that point it was 11pm and i was honestly drained. i spent a whole day exploring the more nature-y side of switzerland and the view definitely did not disappoint.

i sat myself down in my assigned seat and was so ready to fall asleep at this point. a guy walked over and sat next to me, and i bet you won't be able to figure out who was gonna be my plane seatmate for almost 12 hours. yeah it was france guy. he seemed pretty surprised to see me too i think.

after he sat himself down next to me, he looked at me, maybe i was staring too hard.. "hey" i looked at him, question marks practically all over my forehead. "can you stop staring at me" i scoffed at him, this guy is ridiculous!

the plane took off a few minutes later and i was starting to doze off, and unfortunately for me i left my neck pillow in my luggage by accident, so my head was dropping left and right.

i suddenly woke up and it felt like i was lying against something? i sat upright to see what i had been sleeping on, and it was france dude? he woke up when he felt me getting up. "you're finally up, my shoulder feels like it's about to dislocate"

'okay sorry for accidentally sleeping on your shoulder but like, rude much'

"oh shit, i'm so sorry. i left my neck pillow in my luggage and i think i just passed out suddenly" he scoffed and i was so close to losing my shit not gonna lie. but the next moment, he handed me his neck pillow and i looked at him while holding the neck pillow. "just use it, i'd rather you use my stuff than you use me" damn okay stranger. "oh, thanks?" and soon he attempted to go back to sleep.

it was currently 8:59am, which meant we still had probably less than 2 hours left of this plane ride, and i was thanking heavens because 12 hours next to this guy would've been hell if i weren't fast asleep.

france guy was moving around in his seat and i assumed he couldn't fall back asleep. i tapped on his shoulders a little to get his attention "hey, you can have your neck pillow back, seems like you can't sleep, and i'm pretty energized right now" he looked at me and sighed "it's fine, i'll just give up on going back to sleep".

after that it was pure silence. and i couldn't stand it so of course i had to open my big ass mouth.

"so.. you travel a lot?" he nodded his gaze fixed on his phone. "alone?" he nodded again still focusing on his screen. damn talking to this guy is so hard. let's bring up the past! "you remember the first time we met?" he finally looked at me. "we've met?" are you fucking serious right now.

"i bumped into you on accident in paris back in january?" he thought about it for a second before replying. "oh! i remember now, you bumped into me and almost spilt your hot coffee all over me" "hey! it almost spilt on me too okay, and i apologized for it" he shrugged it off and went back on his phone.

"you know, i kept seeing you around while i was travelling and at some point i thought you were stalking me" he looked back at me again, his eyebrows furrowed this time. "what the fuck why would i stalk you, i don't even know you?" "it happens sometimes" "hey, for all i know you could be the one stalking me right now" i was taken aback, speechless, i can't handle this guy oh my god.

"you know, your looks and personality clash a lot" he gave me a look that said 'wtf do you mean'. "you're a good-looking guy, like, i'd definitely date you if your personality was nicer" he stared at me for a while and chuckled a little. "for your information i have a great personality" "it sure doesn't seem that way" he scoffed and put his phone down before looking me in the eyes.

"i'm nice to people i'm close to, last i checked, we don't even know each other." "maybe we can change that" he looked shocked by what i said. honestly i'm shocked too, but i mean, he's pretty hot, it would be a wasted chance.

"you want us to get close?" i nodded. "you're ridiculous lady" i rested my head in the palm of my hands as i kept eye contact with him "it's y/n, lee y/n. and you are?" he looked at me in disbelief for a while. "i can't believe this is happening." he let out a deep and heavy sigh before introducing himself. "i'm park sunghoon."

"nice to meet you sunghoon. oh, i was gonna ask if you were korean, but your name just confirmed it for me" "are you heading home right now?" i nodded to his question. "homesick?" he asked, and i nodded. it seemed like he was feeling homesick too. "maybe we should hangout sometime while we're in korea" i blurted out suddenly, to my surprise he didn't oppose of this idea.

i then pushed my phone towards him, "can i have your number then?" he looked at my phone, then at me. "are you hitting on me?" i don't know, was i? i mean, i am interested in him, so i guess? "yeah i am, so what do you say, can i have your number? and maybe we can go out sometime and maybe even travel together?" he stared at me in shock, but his reply lowkey shocked me too.

"sure, let's go on a date soon"

[effydiaries]

Little Things

Little things. That's what's been helping me lately. Looking around and observing every little detail I can find. The different colored leaves, the people walking by, the few lit up rooms in lonely neighborhoods at night. Smoking in my room while writing in my journal. Listening to classical music and enjoying every single instrument. Spraying my favorite perfume every night before going to bed. Playing cards with my friends. Kissing my love. Being kissed by my love.

I am finally living my life how I want. I write and write and write until my hands hurt. I feel everything so deeply, so madly, so incessantly. I used to think it was bad for me, wearing my heart on my sleeve. I fall in love with everything and everyone. I cherish everything people give me. Little notes, drawings, letters, flowers, homemade necklaces. I've realized not everybody does that. Not everybody is capable of loving so deeply. Maybe it is a good thing. To make people smile, make people laugh, make people realize they are worth something. People are so beautiful. Everybody has their little thing. Everybody is worth loving, even if they end up hurting you in the end. They leave little pieces of themselves with you for the rest of your life. Isn't that beautiful? Isn't it great how a simple song, a movie, a show, a book can become a part of you through someone else?

I used to be so blue all the time. I would let people walk all over me. I would let myself get made fun of. I would spend days crying in my bed. I would think about everything that has happened to me. I would feel like a victim every single time. I don't want to be a victim anymore. I don't want to live in fear anymore. I want to be free. I want to unapologetically be myself. Myself, all the time. No made up versions of somebody else I could be, only present me. I want to listen to the songs that make me feel good, I want to have interesting conversations, I want to read amazing books and talk about them with my friends. My true friends. I want to sing without shame, I want to make myself heard. I want to write and never stop.

I've lost a lot of people lately. People that meant everything to me. They're no longer in my life but I see them everywhere. I see them in the little things and although they hurt me I can appreciate what they taught me and all the good moments we had. It's the little things. They make everything special. So, so special.

[xxl1zardb3ansxx]

Kay so I lied imma just post chapters of my story when I can so here you go :) This one is kinda short

On the way

It was pretty much uneventful. Star flew over a majority of the Mud kingdom, which she did not particularly enjoy. Too many snakes and big scary Mudwings. It also smelled horrible, but she thought not to mention that in her journal just in case a Mudwing found it. It was quite peaceful in the open sky though. No noisy dragonets, no Astrion. Just clouds. They didn’t make very much noise so Star didn’t mind them. The mountains were a little less fun. Star had to be careful because there were random mountains sticking up everywhere. It also didn’t help that there were a lot of clouds, which made it even harder to see. Star only had to stop once when she needed food. She found a goat, who was relatively skinny actually, but Star didn’t really care. Meat wasn’t a huge part of her diet because she lived in the rainforest, with rainwings. And Rainwings are vegetarian so you get the point. Although, there were some interesting botany samples along the way. Bright blue flowers, a very folding looking pink flower, and a red round fruit. Which after looking it up in her botany book, found out it was a strawberry. Thus she tossed it into her mouth and picked a couple for the rest of the trip. Eventually, Star came across a large mountain with a sign reading “Jade Mountain Academy” across the top with a slogan underneath that said, “We wish you the power of the wings of fire!” Star guessed this was her destination and landed on a hill not far from the entrance. She didn’t want to go in quite yet, for she was nervous. Star took a couple deep breaths and went into the Mountain. There were a couple students in the halls, not many though. Probably because the actual beginning of the semester was on Monday. A Nightwing greeted Star as she walked in.

“Hello! And welcome to Jade Mountain Academy, or JMA for short. I’m FateSpeaker.” The Nightwing said in a very cheery and excited tone.

“Uh, hi. Star, nice to meet you?” Star said, not really used to talking to other dragons.

“Star, Star, Star,...Ah ha! Here you are! You're in the Jade Winglet. Which is down the hall and to the right twice.”

“Thanks.” Star said, and just before she walked down the hall FateSpeaker said, “Wait, here’s your library card, and map of the school. Okay, bye bye!”

Star took the map and a little pouch with the card in it. She began walking down the hall and noticed that everyone’s thoughts were really loud. *Okay, little thingamagigama here. Star inherited mind reading from Moon and Astrion got the visions and stuff. Ok! Toodles!*

Star used the trick her mom showed her and pretended to hear everyone's voices slipping away into raindrops in a storm. Star could still sort of hear them, but it helped quiet down the noise. Star also noticed that she was getting some weird looks. Oh no please don’t tell me they know my- A bright pink blur in her face broke her thought.

“Hi! *Gasp* It’s you again! Hi!” 

Star recognized that voice. It was the pink Rainwing from back home that wanted her mom’s autograph.

“Oh, hey.” Star said, stepping back. 

“I’m Rosey! What’s your name?” Rosey said, excitedly shifting between yellows and shades of pink.

“Star. Nice to uh, meet you.” Star said, trying to evade this giant ball of sunshine.

“Oooh, that’s a pretty name! Does it have a second part? Like the Moon does?” Rosey persisted, shining even brighter pink with a little yellow on the fin-like things on the side of her head. (I don’t know what their called)

“Yeah, um, it’s uh, StarGazer technically, but I like Star.” Star said, being pushed against the wall by Rosey’s energy.  “Ooooh, that’s so pretty! I wish I had a name like that! I would want to be like NightStalker or something cool like that! Hey, where'd she go?” Rosey said, suddenly realizing Star was gone. Star had used the time while she wasn’t paying attention to slip down the hallway and into the room labeled ‘Jade Winglet’. Star sighed when she got in there. Relieved to not have to deal with Rosey anymore. It wasn’t Rosey herself, it was just her mind is really really loud. Inside the cave were several different styles of beds. A hammock, a stone ledge, a very cold looking stone ledge, a heated stone ledge, another ledge covered with leaves, a silk web, a hive looking ledge, a kelp covered ledge, a ledge covered with a thin layer of mud, and a final one that looked quite bumpy and uncomfortable actually. Star decided to take the leaf covered stone ledge, as the hammock was probably for a Rainwing. Star was not very excited at that thought though. That meant she would be staying in the same room with other dragons! Although this mountain was clearly not big enough to have everyone have their own rooms. Star set down her satchel next to her and just laid down for a bit. The bed wasn’t quite as great as the one back home, but it was still comfortable. Star flopped her tail over her snout and just sat and thought for a while.

[lacunasbalustrade]

made by @utterchaios and I thought it’d be a fun tag game! (I’m so sorry if you didn’t want it to be a tag game.)

also, I love open curtains.

tag game, bold what applies, italicise what sometimes does, cross out what never ever applies

types of people - places

library dank chemistry memes, coffee, has a gigantic purse with enough stationery to start a store, "pls stop breathing im trying to study", eats a LOT of candy, curses you in a dead language, carries textbooks literally EVERYWHERE, dark academia, watches harry potter bc nostalgia, takes showers at 3 am while listening to audiobooks. why have pillows when you can have books?, "who folded the corner of this page?, im gonna commit homicide" , the encyclopedia of the group, has like 25 sweaters and one pair of chuck taylors, short hair, most likely the valedictorian. Stranger Things.

art gallery mysterious eyes, leather jackets, hands stained with paints and pigments, " if you open the curtains, i swear to God i will obliterate you", may or may not be a soul-sucking vampire, changes clothes every 2 hours bc" its icky ok?", stares at a painting for hours unless you physically carry them away, would always rush to help you, DIY Michelangelo Plaster sculptures, lost count of their pinterest boards, wants to eat mac and cheese but its 12 am and the fridge is empty,"i have crippling depression", doesnt remember their birthday or anyone elses, likes blueberry cheese cake, reads Dan Brown, owns a reptile. buys you coffee without asking.

the park flower pressings, "i only consume caffeine when i need to", doodles on their shoes just because, wants to have a swing in their backyard, most likely cottage core, plays minecraft on creative mode only, makes pies for everyone, loves sunny days, the optimistic one in the squad, " im made you this flower crown, here!!" , prefers milkshakes, home-cooked meals, has cool colored hair, "i will only come over if we can watch "spirited away" again", you really wanna be their friend, looks like a softie, but will sucker-punch someone to mars if they had to, watches nature documentaries, hand-woven journals, names their plants, likes green tea.

planetarium shiny eyes, sleep is for the weak, the most motivated one, usually quiet in their own thoughts, probably neurodivergent, has a cat or cats, " free food WOOOOOOOOOO" day-1 organization guru, day-2 "where IS my wallet???", wears different socks on each feet, pizza pizza PIZZA, doodles little planets on your arm, productivity who?, will eat anything, f.r.i.e.n.d.s, unlimited vine references, solves a complex equation within 2 minutes, but can't figure out the directions for the nearest fast food, looks at the sky like its their first time, forgets to study, but aces the exam anyway, "why can't movies follow the laws of physics? im calling the cops bc this breach is UNNACCEPTABLE!!!", never sleeps on time bc vsauce rabbithole, the kindest person you'll know.

@melting-morning-blues @thehistorynut19

[hollowfaith]

[ indigo ]  when did you first start writing / roleplaying?

[ plum ]  are you more of a dialogue or a description writer?

[ mulberry ]  what tips would you give someone with writer's block?

[ coral ]  give a shoutout to one of your favorite blogs.

🐝  *  ―  𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑾. ( send one or more of these to get to know the person behind the blog a little better. )

(these are going to get long so i'll put a readmore to spare the dashboard lol)

[ indigo ]  when did you first start writing / roleplaying?

for writing (stories) i'd say in early middle school when i realized fanfiction was a thing. before that i just did a lot of journaling, or i'd finish a trip with family and write a long essay about everything we did on the trip. anyways when the fanfic itch hit i wrote obsessively and even titled my story journals as i finished them so i could keep them in chronological order. (like i had one named after spring, another for summer, fall, winter, etc. and then a series named after favorite gemstones x flowers). i think i filled 40+ notebooks of various sizes by high school? they're still somewhere in the basement at my parents' place probably.

then i found ff.net and realized people posted their stuff online so i tried that a bit, and when ff.net started getting dated i moved onto ao3. i don't have as much energy or drive to write the crazy crossover AUs i used to do but it's still nice to post there, or make up original short stories for fun. anyways TL;DR i'm always writing something somewhere sometime~

for RP i wanna say...early 2000s? back when forum RPs were a thing. and i don't mean the fancy kind they have now where you can custom-theme your posts, but just plain message boards where you started a topic to make "threads" and replies to that thread made up your interactions, and the rest of the board was divided up so you had locations in one place and character profiles in another, etc etc. they were everywhere and constantly opening and shutting down so i went everywhere too, lol. also signed up for this digimon PbEM RP group where they had a plotline and an all-original crest lineup but you had to make up your own digidestined and digimon and apply to join. then we'd RP on a word doc and email it to the next person in the group to get the story going. it was sooo old school but it was genuinely fun. i also applied to join a livejournal MFRP group but got rejected because my app wasn't good enough hahaha that got me a little scarred so i hid away from MFRP for awhile

(also a special bonus to the time my friends and i RPed as neopets faeries in a composition book we'd pass around in school between periods.)

for tumblr RP i think it was like 2014 or 2015 after a RP hiatus? the messageboards were dead or dying by then and heck if i was going to learn livejournal and its weird system so i joined some ancient chinese themed MFRP group with a similar chinese drama-inspired muse but that shut down within a month so i wandered around until i found a bigger more active group and stuck around there. and now i'm on and off here. :)

[ plum ]  are you more of a dialogue or a description writer?

when it comes to RP, i think i lean more towards description because i need to give context to my muse's lines. but for stories i'm more dialogue heavy, and i enjoy writing exchanges back and forth between characters.

[ mulberry ]  what tips would you give someone with writer's block?

i don't know if i'm the best person to ask but when i'm stuck on writer's block i work on a different...writing project..... you know they all have different vibes and stuff so a change of scenery gives the mind a break and stuff? it's good.

and it works because i still wanna write, i just don't want to write for Thing A so why not Thing B lol.

it also helps to find a focus, most of my writing block woes come because i don't know where/what to do next, so maybe i find a song, a pretty quote, or an icon that gives me the right "vibes" for what i want to express and think up the rest of the post from that.

it also helps to have a smaller goal to work towards even if you don't know how the ending will turn out. for example, if in a thread my A is interacting with your B and i think to myself "well according to what i've read in B's app he'd prolly hate A and think him a prick, so it'd be interesting if A gets a chance to showcase his prick side in this thread eventually," then i'd insert stuff into my replies to gradually make A more annoying and play off what B replies to work towards that "goal."

of course since RP is directed by both sides those mini-goals sometimes get sidetracked, but then it's fun to see in what new direction we take the interaction instead haha

[ coral ]  give a shoutout to one of your favorite blogs.

i can’t stress enough how helpful quotes/musings blogs are for like aesthetics or muse inspirations for me and the nice thing is most of them are still around even if they haven’t updated in years so HERE HAVE THIS POST WITH LINKS TO A BUNCH MORE GREAT MUSINGS POSTS BLOGS

[zhoras-bitch]

My Playchoices MCs #3

I really enjoyed Murder at Homecoming overall, despite the kind of underwhelming murderer reveal, so I wanted to finish the edit before the finale this week. I feel like the book really shined when it came to character writing, including the main character. They’re really cute too, I just wish their skin tone in game wasn’t so unnaturally cold. Other than that, I haven’t changed much about their appearance, except details like the bangs, glasses and makeup & I’m really happy with the complete look. More notes under the cut.

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I named them Reese after my favourite kid detective Riz Gukgak. In their case, Reese is short for Theresa.

They are really smart, but also stubborn and blunt to the point of being rude, and personally, I enjoyed that A LOT.

I honestly don’t have that many headcanons about them because they are a very well-established character already but here’s one: they’re neurodivergent.

Reese has one of those super aesthetic daily planners/journals decorated with stickers and pressed flowers. She uses it to keep track of both her school and work-related stuff, as well as things like books she plans to read. It’s super detailed and well-organised.

In general, Reese likes to spend time decorating and personalising all of their stuff and personal spaces. It’s like they bring their aesthetic everywhere they go.

She identifies as a sapphic demigirl, and she has very specific reasons as to why those labels specifically.

Vegetarian.

Wears earphones like 90% of the time, at part because they are not a fan of noisy crowds. Mostly listens to podcasts and audiobooks and lo-fi hip hop music.

Has dramatic inner monologues about how ‘this city is rotten to the core’ noir detective style.

Is unsurprisingly a big fan of Sherlock Holmes stories, but hates most of the adaptations because she’s a book purist and ‘None of them get his character right.’ Has a particular disdain for the BBC series.