#i struggle to comprehend that quantity

[aceouttatime]

sometimes i think about the fact that we, as individuals, are aware of the existence of more humans than any of our ancestors. i haven’t done much extensive research on the topic, but from what i’ve gathered, we absolutely weren’t designed to know as many people as we do. we evolved to live in small groups, not consume content made by quite literal billions of other people.

so if connection doesn’t come easily, you’re not alone. we’re all trying to adapt to a social setting our minds probably aren’t entirely equipped for.

love those close to your heart. love those you find your connection in. i think that’s the best way to carve your corner of peace in today’s overcrowded world.

[matchesarelit]

Imagine If You Will... (Ocean of Grass, Colin Bridgerton x f!Reader)

The Queen opens a new gallery space, and you can barely tear your eyes form the works on the walls, until art starts pouring from the lips by your side.

W/C: ~2.8k Warnings: None I believe A/N: there is a part where writing it was like patting myself on the back, so damn strange. fear not, I am not that up myself. but reader had to simp over smtg.

Stepping onto the marbled flooring of the gallery, you struggled to keep your concentration on the task of putting one foot in front of the other. Eyes locking on the pieces adorning the walls and topping the podiums. The words of greeting hitting your ears from all directions as you began trailing the walls of the space, were forgotten immediately, muscle memory replies rolling off your tongue with ease. The same old people and same old conversations were now framed by works of detail and grace grander than you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing.

The tickle of lace over your arm was the only thing to prompt you back to the world of the Ton, as an elbow hooked through your own and a head weighed down your shoulder. Vanessa, a close family friend, had taken her place by your side, as she often did, leaning into you and squeezing your arm in a silent greeting. Taking a moment you finished following the length of a brushstroke, before you tore your stare away and with a breath, that you held for perhaps a beat too long, looked towards your friend.

'Hello' The bland greeting was all your brain could hope to form at that moment. Your mind was shaken awake as the woman by your side responded simply with a suppressed squeak and a wide-eyed grin.

Her expression held within it a great amount of glee and undoubtedly a grand quantity of gossip, only being held back by the tight-pressed line of her lips, a sight that never failed to elicit a smile of your own. Raising your eyebrows slightly, you opened the floodgates and suddenly you found yourself much more knowledgeable about the events that had preceded your arrival. 

To the best of your understanding; One young lady had swooned at the revealing visage in one of the paintings, The queen had not yet made her appearance yet would most certainly do so soon and many of the mamas and papas had retired to the adjacent tea rooms which many had taken as a sign to converse freely. The latter explained the cacophony you registered now free of your stupor, but it certainly surprised you as you surveyed the room to find the group of your peers crowding a piece only a few meters away. 

'Are they discussing that work? Come, surely this will be interesting' You tugged your friend along as you started towards the trio, Vanessa and you discussed each of your hobbies with each other at length but rarely had the chance to discuss such matters with other members of the Ton.

'I don't believe they ar-' Vanessa's warning was cut short as you greeted the small group, not registering her concern in your excitement. 'Hello!'

Looking to the women closest who turned on the spot to see you, you watched with confusion as their smiles twisted into bitter replicas of kindness, each of them giving a nod to you, a small curtsey to the art and turning to walk away.

'Where are yo-' Your words trailed off, your eyes on the receding figures of the other debutantes, as Vanessa spoke up from beside you;

'Good afternoon Mr. Bridgerton, Mr. Bridgerton' From your peripherals you watched her curtsey, you followed suit before you had thought to comprehend why.

'Good afternoo- OH' Your realization wasn't loud, but it wasn't silent either, so truly you shouldn't have been as startled as you were when a pair of matching chuckles were heard from the men in front of you.

'We did not mean to interrupt, we were under the impre-' Vanessa was silenced as Colin Bridgerton shook his head slightly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he spoke up in a lilting tone; 

'No need to apologize. Who would we be to be upset with such beautiful company? We are truly a lucky pair of gentlemen.' 

A minuscule bow of your head and a flash of a smile that you refused to let within a mile of your eyes, crossed your expression before you were blinking your eyes into focus. Looking to the older Bridgerton with a gaping expression Vanessa had, long ago, coined as prized koi, you found your voice a moment too late.

'Amidst my travels-'

'Mr Bridgerton, You are an artist are you not? What are your thoughts on the collection thus far?' You had spoken at the same time and inadvertently cut off Colin. Your mind catching up with your mistake had you countering your question with a rushed apology to the man at your left; 'I am so sorry Mr. Bridgerton, please go on,' Looking up at him you matched the warm smile he sent you as best you could despite the heat in your cheeks.

'It is no problem at all, I was simply saying-'

This time it was Benedict who interrupted his brother with a waving hand of dismissal and a much too-happy-with-himself smirk, at which the younger simply scoffed.

'I am indeed, I was studying for a while but have found the natural approach to growing my abilities to be more fulfilling. I have found some of the pieces featuring the Welsh townships inexplicitly compelling, the detail and depth given to the cobblestones is startling.'  

'That sounds...' You began before pausing somewhat taken aback by the fullness of his answer.

'Compelling' you finished before shifting to the balls of your feet, peering back over the crowd to search the walls for the works Benedict spoke of. 

'And what of this one?' A new voice spoke from behind you, Viscount Edward Lowe had approached and looked to the piece that hung behind the Bridgerton men.

You felt Vanessa's arm slip from your own, as she met your eyes, tilting her head to the side, you nodded in return, assuring her you would be fine should she take her leave. 

'Mr Lowe' Benedict greeted, 'Grown a sudden interest in the arts have you?'

'Not so much as I have found in my betrothed.' Smiling to yourself at the glance the couple shared, you watched as Vanessa took his offered arm and stepped away from the three of you.

'They make a charming couple do they not?' You mused to seemingly no one, not waiting for the opinions of the brothers before shifting yourself to study to the work framed on the wall. 'I find the colouring of this one to be concerningly bland, as if the artist had naught but three hues on his palette and was unaware he could mix them.' Your words pulled a laugh from Benedict while Colin remained silent, 'I apologise if that was too cruel,' Looking towards the latter you found him shaking his head slightly as if to dismiss your apology, and still your eyes remained on his silent figure for a few moments longer even as his brother began to speak.

Benedict was fast to fill the silence, eyes trained on the artwork as he shifted to fill the space to your right,

'I agree, it makes the work come off hollow, as if he, himself felt disconnected from the scene he stood amongst, which if that is the case I would ask him why he desired to commit it to canvas.'

'Perhaps his intention was indeed to spur discourse over that distant feeling?' You mused, attempting to refrain from overly critical comments going forth. 'What do you think Mr Bridgerton?' As you addressed the younger of the two, you watched him glance towards the art, eyes roaming the surface with some obscure purpose.

'The- um, the reds are a strange choice for such trees that don't shed with the seasons' He was softspoken yet the charm of his tone was absent, a vulnerable air to his persona that was rare to see amidst Society. 

Nodding to yourself as you let your own eyes fall back upon the art, you attempted to consider the implications of such a choice. Benedict, on the other hand, seemed not similarly inclined as he started his assertion, 'The warm shades are a strange choice but I doubt it was a pensive decision. He seems unable to make use of any cooler tones. The brush strokes in that area, however, are not dissimilar to that of a toddler with their fingers dipped in mud. Pure chaos. So perhaps he aims to discuss the unpredictability of the natural world.' 

Colin's face was more unsure than ever, clearly out of his comfort zone and flanked by two enthusiasts was surely not the easiest position to be in.

'Perhaps the red of the trees work to add to that chaos Mr. Bridgerton, the artist certainly could have made them brown. Most trees do reach that colour as they die.' You had averted your eyes to the older of the pair, hoping to give the younger a moment to collect his confidence which, to all appearances, he managed, as within moments he spoke again.

'I-I also find the textures... quite... realistic' His voice was still low and somewhat unsure of himself, this was of course not helped by the immediate response, once again, of his brother nor the brow quirked in amusement that accompanied it.

'You find the flat orange expanse of grass, with no discernible brush strokes, accurate?' 

'Mr Bridgerton, if that is how your brother experiences the work is that not a testament to the nature of art itself as a concept that is entirely subjective' Your rebuttal, if it even counted as that, was weak and somewhat irrelevant, even so when Colin spoke next his voice was notedly more settled.

'It follows memories of mine of hills of grass in the wind, moving as the ocean does not as singular blades but as a fabric of silken thread.'

To say his words caught you off guard would be inadequate to describe the buzz and ache that filled your mind and chest at his observation. Everything aside from the artwork and his presence by your side fell from thought. Benedict's lips were moving, that much you were sure of, although that wasn't much of an accomplishment as even the man in the painting could surely hear his opinions.

Colin's words were still floating through your mind, drifting in and out, painting the picture within your head, the image, as clear as it was beautiful. He had set out the details so masterfully you doubted more than a select few painters could compete at rendering such a scene.

Looking up at the man by your side you watched as he rolled his eyes, exasperated as a bright blush crawled over the peaks of his cheekbones. You were startled when his observation fell on you once more, this time partnered with a touch of confusion as he glanced to his brother and back. 

'Are you quite alright?' You watched his lips form the words and still they took comparable years to reach your ears, not to mention the decade it took for you to splutter out a response.

'Oh, I'm quite alright, thank you Mr Bridgerton.' Shifting on your feet you glance to the art before settling your attention on the elder brother, hoping to remain grounded in conversation, 'Art has a way of consuming my attention, although usually, I can maintain focus on the discussion and not drift into thought'

A bright smile broke over Benedict's face in jest as he clasped a hand on the other man's shoulder, 'It seems we are boring her dear brother,' 

'Oh, I assure you that is not the case. You have both given me so much to consider I simply couldn't stop my mind from wandering.' Looking up to Colin you hoped he knew you spoke of his words, and as his eyes met yours you watched his signature smile bloom on his face.

Nonetheless, breathless, you spoke up again, 'I apologise for my rudeness.' His expression melted every ounce of tension in the air and like a windswept hill allowed you to breathe easy.

Keeping his gaze on yours he leaned closer, barely an inch, un-noticeable from afar but up close it was enough to have your breath catching in your chest as his lips parted in a whisper; 'Best to save that for the art hm?' His smile, was now a full-blown smirk as he straightened himself. You could swear his movement had stolen the heat from your skin as he retreated those measly few centimetres to stand back by your side, this time, however, he extended an arm for you to take.

'Shall we move on to the next one? I am eager to hear how you shall tear it apart-' the last second of his speech was cut short by the blaring trumpet that announced Her Majesty's arrival, 'We shall have to save that for later...' Your words, although a whisper, were stronger than you thought you could manage given the nerves plaguing your chest, and surprisingly, your composure was strong enough to allow yourself to retreat to the other side of the room. Stopping short of the wall you stopped, finding yourself alongside your friend and her husband-to-be, stationed by the refreshments... exactly what you needed.

The queen had not spoken for long, but the air in the room had grown hot, so aching for a breeze you stepped outside the moment her speech concluded. Walking clear of the tiled path that hugged the exterior of the gallery you landed amongst the grass of the gardens, traversing the plains your eyes hovered around the horizon, cloaked in statues, hedges, and shrubbery it trapped your attention. You charted the curves of green, trailing your hand against the leaves as you strolled, turn after turn until hedges eight feet high were all you could see.

The maze was not a difficult one to escape, you had surely only rounded a few corners, but the peace was difficult to pull yourself away from. It was simply you, the wind, the trees, and a single set of footfalls.

'Mr. Bridgerton' Startled yet relieved, you stepped to the middle of the path, away from the branches and towards the approaching figure as he rounded the turn. 'What are you doing out here?'

'Am I not to be?' His question was teasing and the smirk across his lips broke the charade of his concerned tone as he continued, 'In that case, you shouldn't be out here either...'

'I-I only meant-' your words were forced out through breaths that grew ever more shallow as he drew closer.

'Why am I here? That's what you meant isn't it?' Now, standing mere inches from you, his voice was quiet, barely audible above the rustle of the leaves and the whistle of the wind. 

'Yes, that's what I meant. Why are you out her-' Feeling small under his gaze you set your stare on somewhere through his chest, a far-off distance blocked by his being just as your question was halted by his voice,

'Guess.' 

'The wind is moving today, the grass, the trees, they do as you said. You came out to feel it for yourself?' The guess was the best you could produce that wasn't corrupted by the heaving of his chest and the depth of his voice. His lips parted though you beat him to it as you questioned him further, 'Why are you breathing so heavily?'

Reaching forward at a snail's pace you sought out his eyes only to find them affixed to your hand as it drifted nearer, 'Mr-'

'"Colin", please' his correction was soft as he inched forth, his chest leaning into the touch as he sighed at the contact.

'Colin, why?'

Encasing your hand within his own as he held it to his breast, he parted his lips once more, 'Listen to the trees, the branches, the leaves. They breathe as we do, as one. Like waves crashing upon the shore,' With a deep breath in his chest pressed into your fingers, 'before returning to the depths,' With a shaky sigh you found yourself emptying your lungs alongside the man in front of you.

Holding his eyes with your own you slipped your hand free, the flash of pain across his eyes faded instantly as you turned his wrist, pressing his palm to your skin.

'Waves crashing down on the sand' your voice is low yet resolute as you breathe in, Colin following suit, 'Before finding its way to the depths...' Raising yourself to your toes you press your lips to his. Releasing your breath, no sooner have your heels returned to the grass than his hand has found your waist and pulled you back to him.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 2 - Please read chapter 1 first!

Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

"Miss Goody-Two-Shoes not got anyone to tattle on this lunch?" Goo leans down, elbow on your desk and propping his head up on his hand. 

Obnoxiously in your face and demanding attention.

"I don't tattle," you mutter, not rising to the bait and especially not wanting him to cause trouble for you. You don't bother to look in his direction, instead trying to process the words on the page.

"Hey," he clicks his fingers in your face, "I'm talking to you."

You ignore him.

And Goo Kim is not someone who likes to be ignored.

"What's this then?" He snatches your book, reflexes lightning quick and you barely comprehend it being swiped before your eyes. 

"H-hey!" You sputter, leaping up from your seat. Hand trying to claw your property back as Goo moves it out of your reach and flicks through the pages. 

"Physics, huh?"

"Goo Kim. Give it back."

"Nah,"  A casual flick of the wrist as he aims it towards the open window and it flies out with startling force.

Your hands slam down on to your desk and a resounding smack rings out. "Y-you...!"

Leaning right into your personal space, he smirks. "I what?"

"Why did you do that!"

"You don't need that Princess, Physics is easy."

"And how the hell would you know?! You're just a delinquent."

Goo grins, unnaturally wide and fangs showing but there is no mirth in his eyes, "I'm not just anything babe. I’m sorta a genius." 

With that, he leaves as you seethe.

.

.

Muttering curses under your breath, you search around in the flowerbed beneath your classroom window until finally, you find your stupid goddamn textbook covered in leaves and soil.

Between Goo Kim and physics, your sanity is hanging by a thread.

.

.

"That's wrong," the blonde whispers, silently sneaking up on you and dangerously close to your ear. 

You almost jump out of your skin. You thought you were in the classroom completely alone again.

(How you have come to so easily recognise his voice, you don't want to know.)

"You've fucked up Bernoulli's equation."

You stare at the figures you have written down. It takes you a little while to spot it but. Oh. So you have.

Chancing a glance at him, you find his face almost touching yours, looking intently at your workings. You can make out his long lashes, the faintest single freckle just below his ear, the golden specks of his iris.

His gaze suddenly turns towards you, and you hastily look away, face reddening at being caught staring.

"Princess," you don't need to see his face to know he's unbearably smug, "I didn't think you were a dummy."

Excuse me?! You routinely rank top in your classes. It's only stupid Physics that you are absolutely terrible with. You whirl round, ready to argue- 

But nobody is there. Goo had already left.

.

.

Goo knows your type.

Everything comes easily to you. You've got a clear path to a good future.

A cliche. Probably going to marry your high school sweetheart, have a little family and a white picket fence.

Boring.

It is wonderful then, for Goo to realise that even you struggle with something.

And his chest puffs a little with pride at spotting your mistake, finding something you did wrong. He absolutely did not do it to help you, where's the fun in that?

Goo's favourite hobbies are making money and breaking bones. If he can't do either then his next favourite is being proven right and then being downright insufferable about it.

.

.

It's a very peculiar routine that none of the student body or even your friends can work out.

Indeed no-one wants to either because the further they are away from Goo Kim, the better.

He has a new habit of pointing out your mistakes at lunch. Identifying each error with the utmost glee that makes you want to tear your hair out and bash your head against the desk.

Maybe even bash his head against the desk.

The underlying fear is still there. As with any prey that looks into the eye of a predator, no matter how tame they appear on the surface. 

But now, the overwhelming feeling is irritation and frustration.

Perhaps everyone fears Goo Kim, intimidated by the sight of him, because they haven't had to spend more than five minutes in his company. 

Smug and conceited, with a perverse streak and confidence to spare. Actually no, it's barely even confidence. He is so unbelievably arrogant that to say he is confident would be the understatement of the century.

Yet.

You can't help but think as he points out again another miscalculation on your part, that maybe you got him a little wrong. Even if you do want to smack that smirk off his face.

Annoyed with him, yes. And reluctantly grateful too.

.

.

Fear and terror returns in full force when you see Goo in a fight one day.

Holding what looks like a plank of wood and mercilessly beating up a group of guys from a neighbouring school.

Expresion deranged as splashes of blood paints his uniform red. Splattering across his glasses and all over his hair.

Feeling a pair of eyes on him, he looks up and finds you watching him. Face white and body trembling. 

"Y/N?" he calls out and that causes you to snap to your senses, sprinting away in the opposite direction.

Shrugging off your reaction, Goo continues with his task at hand.

[fatehbaz]

On wishful thinking and the absence of megafauna beasts:

"We know that ancient Sumerians, Assyrians, Egyptians, Greeks, etc. were familiar with large charismatic megafauna that are now extinct in the region, because Asian elephants, Caspian tigers, Asiatic lions, Persian cheetahs, Syrian ostriches, and more creatures used to naturally live in Mesopotamia and Anatolia and the Fertile Crescent until historic times. But were rhinos and giraffes also living in Southwest Asia during the past 10,000 years?"

No. But, within the Holocene, the Sahara desert region used to be much wetter. The "Green Sahara" period allowed white rhinoceros and African elephants and giraffes to lives across North Africa within the past 8,000-ish years. Petroglyphs across the Sahara attest to the presence of rhinos and giraffes in modern-day Morocco, Algeria, Libya, and Egypt.

But this doesn't mean giraffes persisted in some hidden enclave in the Levant, unnoticed and unrecorded by Assyrians or Babylonians or something.

The record-keeping of states, even in the Bronze Age and Old Kingdom, were detailed and meticulous enough to account for landscape, environmental anomalies, large animals, etc.

When there is wishful thinking for the survival of extinct species, I think that people can struggle to understand the scale of ecological degradation, or people can struggle to comprehend the meticulous record-keeping of states. Today, with panoptic satellite technology and aerial imagery of remote corners of the planet, states and corporations poke and prod every physical space, searching for resources to capture, manipulate, sell, employ, etc. Big creatures do not go unnoticed. Even when unseen, they leave detectable ecological signs, hints, traces. This is, for example, how we’re sure Megalodon is extinct. We can hardly see or detect the vast majority of the undersea world(s), but we can still perceive these megafaunal absences.

Even in the ancient world(s) of the Fertile Crescent, states kept good records. In fact, the ancient Fertile Crescent is partially famous to us specifically because of their good record-keeping and story-telling regarding deforestation, agriculture, plants, rivers, floods, etc. Think Gilgamesh, the felling of the Lebanese cedars, the sea-derived purple dyes of the Phoenician textiles, Noah's Ark, the flooding of the Nile riverbanks, Assyrian kings hunting elephants, the display of tigers and lions for sport and pleasure, the elephant ivory paid in tribute to Memphis and Thebes, etc.

Ancient people of the region were so good at keeping records about landscape that it may surprise modern observers.

We (modern observers) have a pretty good idea of the landscape of the so-called Fertile Crescent from the time of Ur, Eridu, Lagash, and the Egyptian Old Kingdom onward. For example, we know which tropical animals, in certain quantities, were shipped by Punt northward through the Red Sea as tribute to Egypt. We know how many gazelles were hunted, elephants captured in pit-fall traps, and big cats ensnared by Assyrian royal hunting parties. And a creature as conspicuous as the giraffe would not go unnoticed in Egypt, Akkad, the Phoenician realm, Babylon, etc.

The giraffe is absent from all of these accounts of ancient Southwest Asia. Sad.

However, as a consolation, to provoke wonder, consider that, even in the Mediterranean, the sea so thoroughly manipulated by agriculturalists and seafaring traders and state-building empires over thousands of years, a few animal surprises could stay hidden, like treasure. There may have been a unique lineage of North African elephants, known to Carthage, in the Atlas mountains or interior Algeria, as late as 200 AD. And yet biologists, taxonomists, and historians argue to this day as to whether or not there was a unique subspecies of African elephant living on the Mediterranean coast when Rome destroyed Carthage, with convincing arguments for and against. How could an elephant of all creatures elude description by the record-keepers of such an empire? And yet, these creatures existed.

Lions prowled mainland Greece until at least 400 BC. Today, perhaps 400 endemic monk seals continue to swim in the Aegean Sea. Jackals continue to wander the Balkans. We may no longer live alongside woolly mammoths. But underground, in Croatian caves, the olm still survives swimming silently.

[angelicsunsets]

•°~BTS roleplay search~°•

Hello there fellow roleplayers, I'm looking for someone I can share my writing with and pass time. I am 18+ so no minors please. I'm currently only interested in doing BTS based roleplays for now but may expand later. Here's what I'm looking for:

Style

Third person

A minimum of two paragraphs. Detailed paragraphs largely preferred, but not required. The length of my replies vary from a few paragraphs to novella but I tend to match my partner!

It's understandable when you are stuck and unable to write much of anything. That happens to me too. If needed, we can always discuss what can be said to move on or it can be skipped altogether :)

Quality over quantity—please have effort when writing.

NO doubles. My brain can't comprehend it and it's a little overwhelming 😭

Activity

I may give one or two replies or more per week (depending on my desire to write, it could be less or more.). I'm patient with replies and won't pressure you for one and I expect the same treatment. I may give a gentle nudge/check up if it's been some time without any response and you may do the same.

Please tell me if and when you are not able to respond, especially for a long period of time. If it's something unexpected, I won't be upset if I don't hear anything so don't worry lol. I will do the same. I struggle with mental health issues and may need to take a couple mental breaks.

I understand that you will not be able to be online 24/7 as I will not be able to either.

Ships

I'm not picky, I do them all. Although my fav are the more popular and common ones; taekook, jikook, yoonmin, vmin...yk.

I'm also willing to play any member. However, I have most experience playing as maknae line + Yoongi.

Only member x member.

Platform

Discord only as I like to keep all my rps in one place. Though rping here on Tumblr is an exception if you don't have discord.

Other

I don't have any triggers except for extremely detailed gore (that I know of) but please do tell me yours if you have any just so I could avoid it because I usually incorporate some dark/angsty topics into my roleplays :) however, if it's a heavy topic, I usually like to check in first to make sure I won't upset you on accident! If I do happen to say something, please do tell me and I'll immediately fix it.

I could honestly go with or without smut so either way works for me! The only thing I ask for smut if that there needs to be an actual plot that goes with it and isn't pure smut. Also..no bathroom kinks. That's just gross, sorry not sorry.

Click here to see my list of tropes I enjoy writing (or would like to try) if you'd like to check that out. Be prepared because it's quite long lol. However, I'm always down for anything!! (Hint: I'm a huge fan of a good mix of fluff and angst) I also have many plots in my drifts I'd like to use.

Dm me if you are interested and have a lovely day <3

P.s I don't mind ooc interaction as I'd love to make friends with my partners.

[jurisffiction]

i know. it has been said. yet i am still myself struggling to comprehend the sheer quality, quantity and frequency of time i have devoted to thinking about the television show supernatural over the course of my one natural-born life

[myriadxofxmuses]

Thread tracker

Active muses:

OCs: Ethan (*disclaimer: he is NOT nice. Dark and triggering muse), Ofreyja, Sydney, Gage,  Ivy, Silas (bassist in Gage's band. BIO LINK TEMPORARY.) , Emily , Oscar

Canon: Lucy Maclean (there will be references to not only the show, but the games as well), Daryl Dixon, Joker (OCs & Harley Quinns only, no real bio, mix of Suicide Squad, Dark Knight, and Arkham video games. Triggering muse. Selective.), Dean Winchester, Johanna Mason

NPC: Sam Winchester (I will automatically write him alongside Dean), Rick Grimes (Automatic with Daryl as needed.)

Test muses (bios w.i.p.): Eirwen (THG/Fantasy/Period OC), Cooper Howard , Adam and Liam (Gage and Silas' bandmates)

Hey guys! Mo Mo here. I'll be your mun/your guide for this lovely little blog space. It is a side blog, so unfortunately you won't see my name on your followers list. (@mo-mo-and-porkchop is what will show.)

A little about me, I was born in '85 - old as shit for here I know. I'm a gothy, nerdy, socially awkward, busy, hot mess of a human. I have a family and a FT job, so my activity on here can get spotty. I do run on a queue and I do replies mostly from oldest draft to newest unless my muse is high for specific threads/muses.

I hate that I have to add this in, but I feel like it has caused issues in the past - I have OCD, ADHD, and BPD. I try very hard not to bring it up, but I struggle with these on a daily basis. To top it off I had a TBI at the beginning of COVID that has caused short term memory loss. Because of these afflictions, I may forget things and ask about them more than once. I may seem distant, but am just struggling to socialize in any form. I am awkward and weird, but I am a great person to get to know. I apologize in advance as I know it can be annoying to deal with me as I cope with life and my diagnosis. I am bad at social cues in RL and they are fucking impossible for me to comprehend on here. All I ask is that you are patient with me and if there is anything, and I mean ANYTHING, that bothers you please come to me and let me know.

As for writing, I am a slow potato because I am a firm believer in quality over quantity. I will never rush anything. Ever. I go through phases of high muse and low muse. Of busy life and jack shit going on.  I honestly don't care if you reply in a day, week, or a month. I am here for the leisurely hobby of writing and I want it to be fun for both sides. I do have disco by request and can be found in the background of both for OOC stuff. Although I am on tumblr a lot more.

I am semi-selective and I generally write with one muse FC at a time. Meaning, if I am writing/shipping with a muse then I tend to not take on other muses of that same FC. It is more of an organization thing for me since I have memory issues (especially short term) from a head injury that makes it difficult to keeps things in order with more than one. I also tend not to write against FC of my muses, but I don't have a whole lot so that doesn't usually affect anything.

I'm not a super big plotter. I like to get a basic idea and wing it. I will very much go with the flow of things. As long as you don't completely write my character feel free to do whatever you want. I fully understand mun DOES NOT equal muse. But expect appropriate responses and/or consequences in return. Good or bad, my muses will react accordingly to the situation. And if you ever uncertain about something just message me. DM or regularly. Either way is fine.

I don't care about formatting - I am fully mobile (90% on the app), so it is lost to me anyway. I try to match style and length, but I neither have Photoshop, nor know how to use it, so my icons/gifs come from searches. Credit goes to owners. I will also switch between using gifs and not, only using what I feel best fits a thread. If I can't find one, I don't use them. This is a hobby for me to relax. I don't want to put any unnecessary pressure on anyone, including myself, by having a lot of rules over how you have to do you when replying. As long as it's readable and there's something to work with we're good. Have fun with it.

I only tag things for my own organization of my blog and muses. Which means if there is something I actively post about on my blog that is backlisted for you, just shoot me a message and I will start tagging those posts with the tag of choice. This includes NSFW. It's not that I'm being a dick by not automatically doing so, I just don't have the time/energy to try and guess every tag I should be using. This is my safe space, so I am more than willing to help make it part of yours if you want me to.

I do not write smut (depending), incest, or pedophilia. I am also selective of age gaps between muses. Other than that I really don't have any triggers. If something comes up that makes me uncomfortable, I'm a big girl. I will come to you to plot around it and talk it out. I will write things leading up to smut and will politely ask that we fade to black after that. I am open to write quite a bit of lead up and am considering dabbling in some smut, but I have to be comfortable with the mun and our muses to do so. Since dipping my toes into it, I have gotten a little bit more comfortable with it, but the same goes for comfort between muses. There has to be some kind of chemistry and logic behind it being in the thread. I will never smut for smut sake.) All NSFW with be under a read more only.

That being said, I LOVE SHIPPING! Idc if it is platonic, familial, romantic, frenemies, enemies to lovers, unrequited, fwb, enemies with benefits, enemies, etc. I love them all. This blog is very shipcentric.

I LOVE to write dark and toxic things. (Except incest and pedo.) Enough said.

In general don't be a dick. I don't care about your race, gender, sexual preferences, nada. All are welcome here. In that aspect, I don't care what pronouns you want to use for me.  I call everyone dude and bro regardless, so call me whatever you want.

Some last minute things: asks are always open, muses will be random if not specified, I'm only selective against one liners, (Sorry, but I can't not write at least a paragraph or two and one liners can get boring pretty quick for me so I take them on a case by case basis.), and here's some link for you to browse.

Verses

Sidenote: my verse page hasn't been updated in a quick minute so if there's any questions feel free to jump in my ask or DMs. Also, some muses are highly problematic and not nice. Please be advised when writing with them that things will not always be sunshine and unicorns.

(All of my muses are verse fluid which means as long as I'm familiar with a fandom or plot line, I will tweak their story to fit anywhere. Because of that bios may not be up to date.)

[ace-of-spaders]

@my-robot-heart once upon a time sent me a prompt "I'm here. I never left." for Lizzington.

It was the kind of prompt I fell in love with from first glance but couldn't decide which direction to take right away, so I left it for a while.

I must admit, I'm rather glad that I did, because the idea I eventually went with came to me only after the season finale (because, like everyone else, I had to fix it somehow), but I'm also sorry, Robot, that it took me so long and can only hope that the end product is worth the waiting)

That is, considering your attitude towards the 8x22, I feel it's fair to warn you that this ficlet is set post-8x22 and is angsty - because Red is suffering and Liz is suffering because Red is suffering - but also hopeful because, guess what, Liz lives, so I really hope you'll like it!

(Also, it was supposed to be just a tiny ficlet but my fingers slipped... a lot, so it's now 2,000 words long))

Last but not the least, I think I need to tag @thetwistedargent, too, because her ghost!Lizzie stories low-key inspired this one. Even though I'm not brave nor strong enough to write dead!Lizzy.

Well, now enough with my rambling and on with the ficlet itself, I guess?)

---

She comes to him every night. Wearing loose sweaters that don’t constrict her chest, Liz slips past Dembe and into Red’s bedroom and invariably scrunches her nose up from the suffocating smell of cigar smoke that hangs heavily in the air.

Red hasn’t left his room in days – ever since Dembe brought him home on that fateful night he lost ( or thought he lost ) the meaning of his life in the form of his beloved Lizzy – wallowing in his grief, choking on his own guilt more than the smoke of cigars he smokes more than ever these days and drowning ( or, at least, trying to drown ) his sorrow in immeasurable quantities of alcohol. Liz is acutely aware of this newly established routine of his and what it does to his health and wishes with all her heart she could do something more about it other than visit him nightly while he sleeps, wishes she could reassure him that she’s alive and well and he doesn’t have to mourn her. But she can’t, not yet. So she crosses the room to the window and opens it wide in ultimately vain attempts to chase the choking odor of cigar smoke away. Taking a deep breath of fresh air to try and quell the storm of emotions raging inside of her, Liz turns her gaze to the loaded gun lying discarded on the desk ( she knows that Dembe tried to take that gun away from Red out of fear he might do something… unreasonable in his grief but Red didn’t let him, speaking up for the first time in quite a while just to reassure his old friend that he doesn’t have any intention of ending his own life… it will end soon enough anyway, even without such act of cowardice ) and runs her hand over the cool metal, feeling her heart clench at the thought of how apathetic, how utterly hopeless Red has become in – because of – her absence. Then, her gaze usually shifts towards the always empty decanter of whiskey, which – she knows – is refilled a couple of times a day by Reddington, the equally empty glass discarded on his nightstand, and only then she finally turns to look at the man himself. He looks awful, to put it mildly, worse with each passing day. The clothes he sleeps in don’t quite fit him in the same snug way they used to, reminding Liz of the fact that it takes a lot of convincing on Dembe’s part ( that man must truly be a saint ) to make him eat every single day and that he does so without any enthusiasm or appetite and continues to waste away despite his old friend’s best efforts. Tears brim in her eyes as Liz moves towards the bed and carefully sits down on its very edge, her eyes roaming over Red’s slack face and taking note of the ever-growing stubble, the deepening dark circles under his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks, and the sickly pallor of his skin. “Oh, Red,” she whispers hoarsely, unable to keep all the despair and helplessness she feels when she realizes that he’s dying without her and yet she can’t do much about it inside, and reaches out to cup his cheek with her warm palm, to trace the sharpened outline of his cheekbone with her thumb or stroke his head, the smile that stretches her lips at the feeling of his hair – now longer than usual – tickling her palm too wobbly and weak. Sometimes, he sleeps peacefully… or, rather, dreamlessly in his drunken beyond measure state, never once waking or even stirring, and on those rare occasions Liz just sits by his side, holding his hand or stroking his shoulder or head, till the first rays of sunlight come streaming through the window. Most of the nights, though, he suffers, thrashing around, tangling the sheets and throwing off blankets, panting and whimpering and crying, his mind tormenting him with vivid reconstructions of some of the worst moments of his life, and Liz hesitates, unsure of whether she should try to wake him or not, unsure of what he’s dreaming about… until her name – her seemingly long-forgotten nickname – spills from his lips and she knows exactly what he’s dreaming about. She doesn’t hesitate any longer. “Shh, Red, it’s alright,” she hushes him gently, leaning in close and settling her hands on his shoulders firmly but gently or cupping his cheeks with her warm, very much alive hands, “I’m here. I’m here, I never left.” Tears finally spill from her own eyes as Liz whispers quiet reassurances and sweet nothings to the suffering man, willing him to feel her

presence and wishing she could take the memories of that awful night away from him ( even though initially, she thought that it would be a good lesson for him, putting him in what could be her place if she pulled the trigger… but she didn’t think it would affect him that much, to the point where he isn’t really living anymore, just struggling to exist ), until she gets too choked up to speak… until Red jerks one more time under her hands and either finally settles into deep, exhausted, dreamless slumber with a heavy sigh ( in which case Liz picks the blankets he’s thrown off up from the floor, covers him with them again, tucking him in and making sure he’s warm and comfortable, and goes back to keeping her silent vigil, wiping her tears away and fighting the desire to climb into bed with him, wrap him up in her arms and never let go ) or wakes up. She always freezes when he does, when his eyes slowly open and he squints up at her in the dark, because she’s not sure how he’s going to react, even though his reaction is the same each and every time. He frowns up at her at first, his heavy with sleep and hazy from alcohol mind struggling to comprehend what is happening in front of him, but even though he doesn’t recognize her, even though in his eyes she might look like an intruder, he doesn’t even try to protect himself from any possible danger – as if he doesn’t care about what happens to him, if he lives to see another day or not – and Liz’s heart breaks at the thought. ( How did she manage to break him – the strongest man she’s ever known – so hard, so possibly irreparably? ) But then recognition dawns on his face and his lips part softly and he stares up at her with utter disbelief and very tentative hope, slowly reaching his hand up, as if in trance, to touch her cheek. She lets him, leaning slightly into his touch. “Lizzy,” Red breathes, so pained and intensely relieved at the same time that Liz hates herself for doing this to him in the first place and for not being able to go out of hiding ( but it’s not only her life that’s on the line, it’s also her daughter’s and, to a degree, his, so she has to wait out until her fame in the upper and under worlds quiets down ), to console him, to make him understand that she’s not just a figment of his imagination ( she learned pretty quickly that he doesn’t let himself even consider the possibility that she might be real and not just his hallucination or a surprisingly pleasant dream ) just yet, “Lizzy.” And every night when he wakes up to such a vivid, realistic image of his lost love, he begs her for forgiveness – for absolution – and kisses her hands, the scar on her wrist with such tangible, blatant devotion it makes her heart ache. And every night when he apologizes to her, she tells him that she’s already forgiven him for everything but never takes advantage of his fragile, weak, unguarded state to get the long overdue answers out of him ( after all, she had enough time on her hands while she recovered to understand that, at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter who they were in the past… what matters is who they are now – Red and Lizzy – and that he loves her with as much ardor as she loves him ). They always end up in each other's arms, with Red pressing messy, fervent, desperate kisses to her cheeks and forehead and the soft cascade of her shiny mahogany hair and Liz rubbing his back in what she hopes is a soothing manner, their tears mixing and staining his shirt and her sweater. “Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy,” Red repeats in between kisses in his low, cracking from the lack of use voice, again and again and again, like a mantra, a prayer that sounds to her ears too much like Don't go, don't go, don't go... She knows she can't promise him that now. But she can promise to stay until the morning, which is why when he whispers softly, brokenly "Stay?" in her hair, his weight settling heavier against her after the emotional turmoil of the past few minutes? hours? – Liz doesn't know how much time they spend sitting there on his bed in the mess of tangled limbs,

the mix of apologies and reassurances and each other's names that sound for all the world like declarations of love, like I'm sorry and I miss you and I don't want to ever let you go spilling from their lips – leaves him even more exhausted than the pain and the grief of the day do, she simply nods and gently pushes him away and onto his back. Red doesn't take his eyes off her as she picks the blankets up and settles beside him and tucks the blankets around them both ( Liz is acutely aware of his gaze, burning with adoration and desperation in equal measure, on her back and the side of her face ). Even as she opens her arms for him in a silent invitation to move closer and he does just that, snuggling up to her side, resting his head on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist tightly but not enough to hurt, he doesn't close his eyes. Liz can tell by the way he's breathing and his body goes practically rigid with tension that he's fighting the undeniably strong pull of sleep long after they've settled in for the night. That confused her on the first day but then she understood. He knows that in the morning she won't be there, that this illusion, hallucination, dream he's having will shatter once he closes his eyes and succumbs to exhaustion. And he doesn't want to lose her again. Not for the third, fourth, fifth, umpteenth time ( when she thinks about it, Liz is not even sure if her visits help him or hurt him more... but she can't stop, she can't go about her days without knowing first-hand how Red is doing ). So Liz does the only thing she can do to soothe him: she cups the back of his head, presses a light kiss to his forehead and lies. "Sleep, Red. I will be here when you wake up." "No, you won't," he whispers back flatly – just pointing out the obvious – with an undertone of finality that haunts her long after he obediently closes his eyes and his body finally relaxes in her arms. Because he's right: she always leaves long before he wakes up, giving Dembe a hug goodbye and asking him – rather unnecessarily but she can't help herself – to take care of Red, with only one thought keeping her going through the day: That one day – and hopefully, not in such a distant future – she will be there in the morning when Red wakes up.

[ohbeaby]

So the all of the boys we have met really are just rich. The only one who isn’t is probably Mammon but even he is only in debt due to some of his strange spending habits.

So this is just a silly little thought about how the boys might react to an MC who isn’t very rich at all and has habits to save money.

Clothes:

While they all take decent care of their clothes they also tend to just throw them out if a hole is made or a stain appears. Belphie might keep his longer out of sheer laziness but it’s not like he’s trying to fix any of the issues with his clothes he’s just too lazy to go get more.

MC probably has a small sewing kit and some tricks to get stains out of just about any fabric. The brothers try to throw clothes away and Mc swoops in your save the lightly used fabric from the garbage. They also have a small collection of patches and fabric strips that they give to Levi if he needs extra material for his cosplays. All the saved clothes get returned to the brothers who are very confused as to how the holes all got patched up and WHY MC would bother patching them.

This spills over into Purgatory Hall when MC learns Solomon keeps ruining his clothes in different disasters. The issue is the word disaster clearly has different meanings to everyone because MC just about loses it when they learn that the “disastrous” state of his clothes is just some tears and some small spots where a potion spilled.

All the boys confront MC at some point about why they keep fixing their clothes and MC just explains that they find it wasteful to throw the fabrics away when they could easily be repaired and maintained. They’re all mildly impressed but don’t say anything, though there is a distinct lack of clothes being thrown away after everything is done and some even come to MC for repairs.

Food/Soaps/Jewelry/Bedding:

So when MC first got there no one really paid attention to what they were buying for themselves. The brothers simply didn’t care because it’s just some human. As they get to know MC more though they start to pay attention and realize that MC isn’t exactly buying the highest quality in anything. I imagine Lucifer might be the first to actually say something.

MC: I think I want to get some hot coco.

Lucifer: Yes that doesn’t sound nice. Some milk and cream with coco powder- What are you doing?

MC: *holding up a box of instant hot coco* This is what I usually get. Just add some hot water and it’s okay.

Lucifer: *internally screaming at how terrible that sounds compared to what he was imagining* Do you...not know how to make hot coco?

MC: *laughing* Oh I know! It’s just more expensive than this.

Lucifer makes sure to accompany them on their grocery shopping trips and tries to get them to be a bit more open to buying more expensive cuts of meat or cheeses. He just wants them to enjoy some of the nicer things they feel comfortable indulging in.

Asmodeous probably has a heart attack when he realizes MC is just buying the most affordable shampoos and body washes. Poor boy isn’t able to comprehend that MC doesn’t want to drop 100’s of dollars on soaps.

Asmo: But look at how many harsh chemicals are in there MC! Your poor hair isn’t going to feel healthy at all!

MC: I mean...it gets my hair clean yeah? So it’s fine.

Asmo: At least get a body scrub! They help make your skin feel so soft!

MC: Is there one not quite as expensive? The one in your hand is a bit more than I expected.

Asmo: ...I don’t know what’s in the cheaper ones though. They probably don’t have as much moisturizer.

MC: Soooo I don’t need it?

Asmo: *screeching because he doesn’t know how to convey what the issue is*

Asmo takes time to find more affordable products that at least have a similar quality to his high end taste. He doesn’t like it but he does know he can’t force MC to buy the products he would normally use.

Mammon is VERY confused when MC is looking at jewelry of some kind but it’s like glass or shiny plastic instead of actual crystals or diamonds.

MC: Oh these charms are cool! Look there’s a crow!

Mammon: I mean...I guess? They aren’t real crystals or anything though. Looks like hard plastic.

MC: Eh? Why does that matter? *laughing* I’m just window shopping anyways.

Mammon: Window shopping?

MC: You know? When you’re just looking around but not actually going to buy?

Mammon: But if you want it why not just get it?

MC: These charms are each more expensive than my average meal! I can’t just drop that kind of money on little trinkets!

He’s probably the most understanding about all of it since he gets not having money. The realization that MC doesn’t actively seek out anything remotely expensive turns him to trying to save up more money to get them nice things.

Leviathan is probably the one to make MC the most uncomfortable with his spending habits. He is known to spend egregious amounts of money on things that don’t have an actual function aside from just being part of a collection. MC on the other hand will buy little knock off things like key chains or stickers because they don’t want to spend so much on the official merchandise but they still like whatever show or game it is. MC also knows how to make their own cosplays and repurpose things for props and accessories.

MC: *showing Leviathan some cute little charm from Pokemon or something* I love this one it’s so cute. I wanted to get the set but that was quite a bit more!

Leviathan: *sees it and knows immediately that it’s knock off and not even close to official merch* The colors aren’t even close! Look it doesn’t even look like the original character!

MC: I mean it’s pretty close. Maybe it’s just hard to make that color?

Levi: Why not just get the official merch?? It’s much better quality

MC: But the official is ten times more expensive. I think this looks close enough.

Levi: ...okay look I THINK I have an extra set with that character in it.

MC: ...extra set??

Levi: Well I buy more than one so I can sell them later.

MC: More than one??????

Leviathan makes it a goal of his to get MC whatever merch he can for their interests. He doesn’t like the idea that MC just settles for lower quality stuff just because they don’t think they should buy it. This is HIS Henry after all, only the best quality for them.

Satan also struggles hard trying to understand MCs spending habits. He prefers to get new books when he can as he doesn’t like the idea of buying a used book that someone ruined (ie. the corners have small bends or there’s a pencil mark in them, he has high standards for his books lol). The only exception he has is older books that are limited quantity. He gets frustrated when he sees MC carrying books around that look like they’ve been through hell and back in his eyes. He initially thinks MC is the one ruining their own books.

Satan: Really? The semester started a week ago and your books already look this bad?

MC: Bad? I thought I got a good deal on them.

Satan: Well when you bend the corners like that of course they look bad. Is that a coffee stain? Really?

MC: What? We haven’t even gotten to these sections yet. I’m not sure what you’re issue with my books is.

Satan: Well why are the pages all bent here of you haven’t gotten to these sections yet? Are you just incapable of taking care of your stuff?

MC: Maybe it was the previous owner? I take care of my stuff, don’t even try and pull that card.

Satan: ...previous owner? Like you’ve just gone and bought a used book? Why?

MC: Well actually it’s a rental, it was cheaper than-

Satan: RENTAL?!

Satan then insists that he buys MC all new books despite their protests. He isn’t going to sit around and let them use older books if it can be helped though he does start to understand why MC doesn’t mind used books when they show them places with discounted or even free textbooks and PDFs. It’s kind of handy to not have to pay a large sum for a physical copy when he can just have a free PDF of an older version on his laptop.

Beelzebub starts questioning what the humans habits are when he takes them shopping in place of Lucifer and sees them picking up instant noodles and coffee. He may be willing to eat almost anything but even he knows that stuff doesn’t taste the best and can’t be the healthiest for them.

Beelzebub: What about this brand? It’s got those little veggies in it.

MC: But it’s three times the price. I can just chop up some chives and put it in this for cheaper.

Beel: Why does the price matter?

MC: I don’t like spending too much if I can help it. Oh! They have frozen pizzas!

Beel: *increasingly concerned about the humans poor eating habits*

Beel probably starts taking them out to restaurants more or trying to rope them into cooking with him. He isn’t sure if they just don’t know what good food looks like or what their deal is so he’s just going to try and show them and hope they get the hint. He does avoid eating anything healthy they bought, like yogurts or frozen fruit.

Belphegor. King of sleep. Ruler of comfort. The one you know KNOWS how to take a good nap. He is absolutely pissed when he sees MCs room for the first time, most importantly their bed. The pillows look awful and the sheets are the cheapest ones you can get at the store. He confronts his brothers about the humans poor sleeping arrangements to which they all say “it’s what they chose when they first got here.”

Belphie: No. Unacceptable. Throw it away.

MC: You’re being ridiculous, I’m not throwing my pillows away.

Belphie: They don’t even have a shape they’re so flat! You have no comfort standards!

MC: My bed is comfy!

Belphie: The only comfortable part is the mattress which is also the only thing you didn’t choose.

MC: What’s wrong with the rest of it?!

Belphie: Those sheets are scratchy, the blanket is thinner than a piece of paper, those pillows look sadder than a kicked puppy, do I really need to go on?

MC: You’re being completely unreasonable.

Belphie drags Asmo and Mammon to the store to get MC a whole new bed set and even insists on getting them a new mattress. MC gets barred from their room for a few days until everything is set up. Belphie cares, he just wants MC to be comfortable, it’s important to him that MC sleeps well.

Overall I think the boys will learn to be a little more accepting of MCs habits. They also become increasingly more aware of how much richer they are than them and try to make MC as comfortable as they can.

[renorasims]

I’m still going to be around, creating and active in the community! After a rough couple of months with constant stress of keeping my quantity production up to par, i’m taking some months off of Patreon.

When?

My billing cycle will be paused for at least 3 months. During this period pledged patron will not be charged. At the end of March i will re-evaluate if i need more time or start up my page again. I will inform you ahead of time if/when i start up my page again! I will change the bio of my patreon page/tiers/website accordingly so people will know that there will be no early-access/pre-release items for at least 3 months.

Continuing support?

Pausing the billing cycle only pauses the monthly billing cycle, which is only at the start of the new month. So if you pledge, you get charged right away. If you’ve already pledged/are an active patron and want to donate; you have to un-pledge and re-pledge to get charged. This way, i can still use Patreon as a donating system. Please don’t feel obliged or anything! I love you regardless<333

Why?

I need to take a nice looong breather and i just want to play the freakin’ game for awhile haha! =) Also; update my CC on my slow-poke pace, experience what needs to be made bc i miss it in-game and... last but not least; make CC in peace! Care to know more? Read further below!

First and foremost; thank you so much to everyone who ever supported me! I cannot possibly put into words how this made a difference for me the  past 1,5 years i’ve been doing Patreon <333! Till this day, it paid for most of my creating expenses (software subscriptions, hosting fees). Please don’t take the below explanation as a insult or me being  ungrateful or anything. Its has nothing to do with that! Its just the reality of my current situation.

While i enjoyed and hopefully one day might enjoy Patreon again, it has also put a strain on me and my personal life. I know more creators struggle with ‘the pressure’ and i just want to share my side of it. To enlighten the other side of the coin (pun intended).

Creating CC takes time, in my case a lot bc im a freak and tend to uphold myself to absurd standards for some reason. bc of this i never learned how to be more chill and just ‘let it go’. I sometimes have periods that every pixel needs to be right which is absurd. Its also takes inspo and sometimes... the juices just aren’t flowing. Now, there is not room for times like that.

There’s this certain expectation to get 3/4 items each month since that’s the unwritten ‘rule’. If you look at most pages, that’s the unwritten (sometimes written) ‘threshold’. I failed to deliver that, twice. ‘Only’ had 3 items for that month and immediately people unpledged citing something “did not deliver what was promised”. Don’t get me wrong, it’s your right to do so! If you’re not satisfied than by all means, do what you have to do!

Hear me say this in the nicest way possible; just try to remember that at the other side of the screen there is a person working for 1-3$ a month (i get maybe $0,75-2,5 of it after conversion fees, Patreon fees, etc not to mention; taxes... which is at least a 3rd of the total amount, here in the Netherlands) in my case at least 32 hours a month. In most months its more but im a bit embarrassed to reveal how slow i work. Being a "smaller" Patreon Creator (nothing wrong with that!) i don't make 'big money' with it. The biggest misconception of Patreon i think. It's super nice(!) to earn anything with it! Don't get me wrong! but the hours never weigh in for the earned amount in my case unfortunately. And reading those exit-polls after those 2 incidents... I stopped reading them all together. It crushes someone’s soul who’s literally working her/his ass off to deliver you CC and only came up 1 item short. bc of this i sometimes (in rare cases, thank god) had to go for quantity instead of quality which is NOT for me.

Please know: most of my patron’s aren’t like that all! 95% is satisfied/understanding/loving and supporting all the way!!! I love you guys to the moon and back and thank you for being there this past 1,5 years! <333 I only experienced this twice in 2 years but still... it takes the pressure to a level that’s just not healthy (for me) to sustain.

A lot of creators seem to work the whole Patreon thing quite well. I really hope they do, I’m happy for them! and hope they can continue to grow healthily! Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel that i’m not alone in this. Being open about this is hard bc people think you’re making ‘all this money’ and you don’t want to come off as ‘complaining’. I totally understand, i had the same feelings. At the end of the day i chose to share my side bc i suspect there’s a lot more stress/pressure going on behind those pages than non creating simmers could possibly comprehend. I rlly hope this can contribute to more knowledge and understanding what can be happening behind a Patreon Page.

Hopefully I can come back in a few months! I still wish I could create full time some day (putting in less hours at my normal job) and will actively keep this in mind but i might have to acknowledge/accept that it will never happen. I have to see if i can conquer my own insecurities and reshape that idea in order for it to work in a sustaining and healthy situation.

[mattspinksjoyblog]

The Lovers Won’t Outwork the Workers

The lovers aren’t going to outwork the workers. This isn’t about performance!

Yes, God does have good works for us to do, but even these are things He prepared for us beforehand. We simply walk in them! (Eph. 2:10)

In our workaholic and performance driven culture, Abba, Jesus, and Holy Spirit offer us something so much greater! Rest, abiding, and fruitfulness by God’s power, not ours!

I meet people almost everywhere I go who just can’t seem to enjoy God, the Gospel, or their life because they’re still struggling with a yoke of performance put on them by society or religion, as if God needed our help to accomplish anything! As if the salvation of the world depended upon us!

How many of us just CANNOT comprehend being of any value unless we PRODUCE something?

This has even crept into the way we preach intimacy with Jesus.

The Gospel of Jesus has nothing whatsoever to do with us outworking anyone else. The Gospel of Jesus is about quality of life, and quality of love, as a fruit of the Spirit, NOT measuring any quantity of anything. 

Quality > quantity!

Sure, we will do many things with our God-given time and energy; create works of art, accomplish things in our vocation, work wonders even! We will share the Gospel and see lives transformed! This is a natural part of a healthy life in the kingdom.

But, as anyone who has ever risen to the top of their field in terms of production could tell you... the greatest producers in the world are almost all extremely stressed out and unhealthy! You find a very, very rare few high output producers who are genuinely in love with God and their life. There are a few! Don’t get me wrong. But, overall, the workers are still outworking the lovers all around the world! And, hear me now...

THIS IS OK!!!

The kingdom is not a competition!

We need to give ourselves permission to stop measuring our output. We will not outperform the workaholics! We WILL outlove them. We will bear more fruit of the Spirit than them. Fruit OF THE SPIRIT! Not fruit of our own. But, it’s not a competition, so we can stop measuring.

This may not be a now word for everyone reading this. If you are on a great track with God and in love and seeing lots of results, then great! Don’t let me discourage you!

But, this is a WORD for somebody!

Take it easy! Rest, abide, dream again! 

We love because He first loved us! Drink, receive! Unplug!

Jesus came so YOU could enjoy His love and salvation !He didn’t come just so you could produce for Him! The fruit that remains comes naturally from simply drinking in the sap, abiding in the vine, soaking up the sun & rain!

And, if our apples never get as big or look as good as the genetically modified, chemically enhanced wal-mart apples, it’s ok.  They’ll taste better and be healthier for us all!

- Matt

[tellmealovestory]

Something More (2/?)

Summary: After a bad breakup you ask your best friend to take your virginity. It’s just friends with benefits. What could possibly go wrong?

Notes: Also posted on my ao3.

Warnings: slight angst

Series Masterlist

A quiet groan spilled from your lips as you buried your head further into the pillow. It was too early. You wanted nothing more to go back to sleep, but a crash from somewhere in the apartment followed by what sounded like the words damnit had you cracking your eyes open as another groan escaped. 

Rolling onto your back you rubbed the sleep from your heavy eyes as you blinked your surroundings into focus. For just a moment fear wracked your body as you realized this wasn't your bed and this definitely wasn't your room. 

Sitting up with a start you relaxed as the night before came back to you in bits and pieces. Oh. Right. Part of you had hoped last night had been a dream. Or the cause from too much alcohol. Your eyes drifted to the empty half of the bed where Bucky had been last night. 

Sighing you swung your feet over the side of his bed. You were going to have to face him sooner or later and you couldn't deny whatever he was making smelled good.

"Expecting company?" You asked as you entered the kitchen. Your eyes swept over the piles of food he had plated sitting on the counter and the small kitchen table. Plates of bacon, toast, eggs, pancakes, a bowl of fruit, orange juice and coffee littered the room. There was no way either of you could eat all that and for a moment you froze hoping he wasn't expecting more people. As much as you didn't want to you guys still had things to talk about.

"Mornin', sweetheart," he replied. 

Pouring a cup of coffee and adding a generous helping of milk he placed the mug on the counter closest to you. 

"You didn't eat much last night. Thought you might be hungry." He said it as if the large quantity of food was obvious. Grabbing a plate Bucky filled it high with a little of bit of everything placing the plate next to the coffee. Preparing another plate he sat down digging in to his food. Well at least one of you were hungry.

"Thanks," you murmured. Picking up your mug you blew on the steam before taking a large drink. The hot liquid warmed you from inside out and you appreciated the caffeine. Feeling a little more awake you started to eat.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked in between large bites of food.

"Good. It was the first time I think I've slept the whole night through after... everything that happened." You weren't sure if it was because you had finally opened up about your ex and your heartbreak or if it had something to do with Bucky holding you and keeping you close, but the sleep you got had been wonderful. "What about you?"

"Good," he lied. The truth was he hadn't slept at all. 

After all the drama that had taken place his first and only concern had been you and once you had drifted off to sleep he had been worried about you waking up so he did the only logical thing he knew to do, stay up and watch over you. And that was exactly what he had done opting to spend the whole night holding you and making sure you were okay. It wasn't until a few hours after the sun had started to rise that he left your side and only then so he could make you something to eat.

Nodding your head you let the silence wash over you as you picked at your food. Small talk never bothered you before, but this whole conversation was frustrating. After last night there was so much left unsaid and you were struggling on how to bring it up. 

What if he wanted to ignore it and pretend nothing had happened? What if he was waiting for you to bring it up first? What if he wanted to be the first to bring it up? Once again the what ifs were driving you insane.

"So... um about last night," you started, your voice hesitant and your words coming out slow as you kept your gaze locked on your plate. There was no way you could have this conversation looking at him. "I'm sorry. For ruining movie night, but also for yelling at you."

Bucky chuckled, the sound causing your eyes to dart up from your plate to meet his in confusion. You hadn't thought you had said anything that was funny. You had been trying to apologize and here he was sitting across from you laughing! 

Blame it on the first night of good sleep or the infectious melody being able to lift you up even out of your worst mood you soon joined in finding yourself laughing right along with him. In a way it was refreshing to know that no matter how stressful and confusing last night had been nothing had changed between you two. 

"What are you laughing at?" You asked, the laughter causing a few tears to slip down your cheeks and oh how good it felt to have tears falling from your eyes from laughter instead of from dumb ex boyfriends breaking your heart.

"You," he said.

"My apology was that funny, huh?"

"Nah. You just don't need to apologize. You're under a lot of stress. 'Sides I'm a lot tougher than I look. You gotta do more than tell me you hate me to upset me," he teased, shooting you a playful wink as he got up taking his plate with him.

Watching him you bit your lower lip as memories of the previous night flooded your mind. You vaguely remembered telling him you hated him... along with trying to hit him when he tried to comfort you. And then of course there were the memories of you asking him to sleep with you and your make out which neither of you had brought up yet. 

"Oh, really? And what would someone have to do to upset you?" 

Thinking about it for a moment Bucky grabbed a piece of bacon biting it in half before answering. "Someone not eating their breakfast. Now eat."

Rolling your eyes you started to eat your pancakes. You weren't hungry, but he had gone to the trouble of making you breakfast and you felt the least you could do was attempt to eat something. "Happy?" You asked when your plate was half empty.

"Least you ate more than last night," he murmured, clearing your plate away.

This was it. The opening you were searching for to talk about last night. It was now or never. The air wasn't as thick between you two with tension as it had been, but it was clear there were still things left unsaid. You guys were best friends who had never had any trouble talking about difficult things, but that had seemed to change last night. 

Taking a deep breath and searching for your courage you found yourself blurting out, "Bucky I meant what said last night. I want you to sleep with me." 

The words were out there in the open and even if you had been able to take them back you weren't sure you would have. 

"Y/N," he started, frustration evident in his voice. He wouldn't look at you as he busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen. 

"Told you last night I'm not takin' advantage of you like that." Bucky had been so sure that after last night, after the make out, after the tear stained fight, after you got some sleep you would have moved on and forgot about this. He should have known better. And while he was so fucking tempted to give in and say yes he would sleep with you he knew he couldn't do that. 

"You wouldn't be taking advantage of me. I want this, Bucky." Came your soft reply. When he didn't say anything after a few minutes, when he still refused to even look in your direction you sighed in frustration not understanding why he was acting like this. It was just sex. What was the big deal? 

"No you don't. You only think this is what you want. You're upset cause he broke up with you, but once you do this, honey you can't take it back." Bucky didn't have to look at you to know that much like last night you were growing angry with him, but he was trying to protect you. Why couldn't you see that?

"Yeah, Bucky, I know how virginity works," you shot back, tone angry. You wanted to apologize, but the longer this conversation went on the more upset you were getting. Hadn't you guys argued about this last night? 

"And that's kind of the point. I'm tired of being a virgin. If you don't want to sleep with me just tell me so Natasha can find me someone who will." 

"What?" Bucky asked, turning around to look at you, the first time he had done so since you brought this up. His mind was reeling with what you said. Clenching his jaw he breathed deeply willing himself to calm down. Growing angry and yelling wasn't going to fix anything between you two, but he was finding it difficult to comprehend why the hell you and Natasha thought you sleeping with a stranger was a good idea. 

"You talked about this with Natasha?" He asked, struggling to keep his voice even as he gripped the edge of the counter, his blue grey eyes darkening as he stared you down.

"Yeah...?" Came your confused response. You didn't understand why he was so surprised by that idea. Aside from him she was your best friend and roommate. 

"I mean I didn't tell her about... asking you, but a couple days after the breakup she mentioned that if I was positive about losing my virginity she could find me someone." Your tone was nonchalant, but you felt anything but. 

Squirming in your seat you were beginning to feel uncomfortable with Bucky's intense staring. Still refusing to look at him you shrugged your shoulder as if the idea of losing your virginity to a stranger wasn't panic inducing. You had gone along with the idea, but the more you thought about it the more it terrified you. You wanted your first time to be with someone you knew and trusted, not a stranger, but it looked as if you were going to lose it to a stranger. After all Bucky didn't seem to be on board. 

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he muttered under his breath. Letting go of the counter he moved back to the kitchen chair sitting down across from you. "You're not sleeping with a guy you don't fucking know."

"You also don't get to dictate who I can and can't sleep with, Bucky," you snapped. 

You would never understand the fascination people had with what a woman chose to do with her body or who she chose to do things with. Crossing your arms over your chest you lifted your eyes to meet his. Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity reflected back in Bucky's eyes. Feeling heat rise to your cheeks you swallowed as memories of your make out last night flashed through your mind.

"I'm not telling you who you can and can't sleep with, but a stranger? No. Your first time is not going to be with someone that Natasha finds."

"Really? Because it sounds like you are telling me what to do. God, Bucky you really think that's what I want? My first time to be with a stranger?"

Bucky was smart enough not to answer that question. "Don't you want your first time to be special? With someone you love? And you're dating?" He asked instead, voice soft. You were special and you deserved to have your first time be special and memorable for all the right reasons.

Snorting you rolled your eyes. "No. As long as I'm with someone I know and trust it'll be special. Which... which is why I asked you to sleep with me. A-After I got dumped the only two guys that I trust enough and know are you and Steve. And I don't think Steve would have been comfortable with me asking him seeing as how he's dating Peggy. Which... left only you. And... I don't know. It was stupid to ask you I realize that now. I just... I just thought maybe you'd say yes, but I get it why you're saying no and I don't want to pressure you so... I mean at least I have Natasha to find me someone."

Letting your words sink in he didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. After all it was a lot to unpack and unload. Was he flattered that you had come to him first? Yeah, it boosted his ego he wasn't going to lie about that. But the thought of Steve being your first much like a stranger made his blood boil. What the hell had Natasha been thinking? Making a mental note to talk to her later he sighed struggling to figure out where to go from here. You were determined to lose your virginity and after last night he now knew there was nothing he could say or do to make you change your mind. So he had two options. Let your first time to be with a stranger or be with him. Neither option was a good idea.

"Your first time shouldn't be with a stranger, Y/N," he tried again.

"Then sleep with me, Bucky. We're best friends. There's nobody I trust more and it's just sex. Please?" You hated how whiny you were sounding, but you could almost feel him getting ready to say yes. Reaching across the table for his hands you gave them a gentle squeeze as you lowered your voice, "You said it yourself. My first time shouldn't be with a stranger. It should be with you."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He was so close to saying yes and he knew you knew that. Knew by the way you gently squeezed his hands, by the way your voice got softer, breathier. He closed his eyes remembering you last night underneath him gasping his name and all you had done was kiss. This was wrong. So, so wrong, but he wanted this. So, so much.

Sighing be pulled his hands back as he got up and moved back to the sink. A hand ran through his hair messing it up. He needed space away from you, away from your touch because he swore to god if you touched him again he was going to say yes.

"We can't, Y/N."

"Why not? Give me one reason why."

"Sex changes things. We're best friends and I don't want that to change."

"It's not going to change anything. We've been best friends for how many years, Bucky? And how many things have we gone through together? And it never changed anything between us it only made us stronger."

"Friends with benefits doesn't work. Somebody always gets hurts."

"You weren't worried about that last night when you dragged me into your room to make out with me."

"Dragged you? You followed, sweetheartl, willingly. And if I remember correctly you seemed to enjoy it. A lot," he shot back, enjoying the way you shifted in your seat.

"That's... that's not the point!" You sputtered, struggling to get the conversation back on topic.

Sighing you chewed on your lower lip as you got up and stood in front of him. You weren't about to admit it, but he might have had a point. Not that you would know from personal experience, but you had seen your friends relationships change when sex was added to a relationship. You didn't want your friendship with Bucky to change, but you really believed it wouldn't. 

"Technically... it wouldn't be friends with benefits. It'd... be friends helping each other out," you said. The words sounded ridiculous to your own ears, but you felt triumphant when you got Bucky to at least crack a smile.

"That's the definition of friends with benefits. Wanna try again?"

"Um... It'd be my best friend giving me the best gift ever and ridding me of my virginity so I'm no longer a freak?"

"You're not a freak, Y/N," he sighed, "And that's still the definition of friends with benefits. Try again."

"Okay okay. So maybe it'd be friends with benefits, but it'd be different for us. Neither of us would end up getting hurt."

"You sound pretty certain about that."

"I am certain about it because it's you and I, Bucky. It's been us for years. And at this point it's going to take more than sex to ruin what we have. Besides it's not like we're going to fall in love with each if that's what you're worried about."

"You tellin' me you're not already in love with me, sweetheart? I'm hurt. Thought we had somethin' extra special between us," he teased, a twinkle in his eye.

"You're an idiot," you replied, laughter spilling from your lips. You didn't want to get your hopes up, but you couldn't help it as you glanced up at him through your lashes. 

"So... is that a yes or a no?" Your breath caught in the back of your throat as you waited for his answer.

As much as he wanted to he couldn't say no to you. Part of him still thought this was a bad idea, but what was he going to do? You looked so hopeful staring up at him. Closing his eyes and hoping he was making the right decision he said yes. 

The excited squeal that came out of your mouth made him laugh as his back dug into the counter at the feeling of your arms wrapping tightly around his neck in a hug. And to think all the drama could have been avoided had he said yes last night. 

"But there's gonna be rules," he started, his voice raising to be heard over your chants of thank yous.

Pulling back from the hug you nodded your head yes. At this point you'd agree to anything. Part of you still couldn't believe he had agreed to this. "Anything," you said quickly, the word tumbling from your lips as your eyes sparkled with excitement.

"We're not doing anything until you're over your ex. I don't care how long it takes you need to be over him before we do this." Bucky watched as you nodded your head in agreement. 

Once he got that he continued. "And we're taking this slow. 'M serious, need you to be one hundred percent sure this is what you want all the way and the minute it's not you gotta tell me. I don't wanna do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay?" Satisfied when he saw your head nod yes again he sighed. "Okay, good."

"Thank you, Bucky," you said, a smile curving your lips. "This isn’t going to change anything between us, you’ll see.”

tags:

@nighttwingg​

[pearlplusau]

Chapter 6 - Part 2, The duel of swords and mind

The breaking dawn, at the sky arena.

The training arena has seen better days, due to the hundreds and thousands of sparring done by old gems and new, the once beauty of the arena is now slowly crumbling away from its glory days.

As the long, morning shadows of the pillars shifted, two pearls emerged from the dark and ready their stance at different sides of the arena. The pink pearl, looking rather engaged in the beautiful breaking of the dawn sky than the upcoming battle, was leaning on to her lance and gazing at the orange, pink hue of the morning sky.

It has been such a long time since they returned to the sky arena due to the end of the war. Coral couldn’t appreciate the breath-taking view up in the sky so high back then, due to the heavy training with the gems. Now, not so much either.

She was just about to suck in all the exquisiteness of the scenery but was cut short as she noticed the impatient white pearl at the other end, clanking the end of her staff to get the pink pearl’s attention. The white pearl, looking stern as ever, upholds a bright, glowing spear, with light smoke surrounding the point, indicating the cold air surrounding the heated weapon.

Pearl has her index finger and thumb on the bridge of her nose, looking irritated, “If you’re done dozing off into the sky like you always do, let me repeat the rules for the battle.”

She concentrated the gem on her forehead, and projected a simple visual of two figures.

“Rule 1, the battle must remain here, at the sky arena, for the entire duration of the spar. If one of us falls off the arena, the battle will be paused until the fallen warped back to the arena. Rule 2, There can only be one weapon at a time, this includes the quantity of the same weapon, even though I am ambidextrous, I will spar with only 1 staff for the sake of equality. Rule 3, the battle only ends when one of us is defeated, and when that gem is defeated, she must upload the end of the bargain. These are the main rules, if there’s no more gazing at the dawn sky, we can commence battle.” Pearl retracted her projected visual and waited for the usual questions from Coral.

This time, however, there were no questions asked. Coral was too busy trying to comprehend the rules but she felt like she got the gist of it. “Yeah, i'm good.”

“Good, we shall begin when the battle ground gets cleared up.” Pearl said, with her weapon ready.

The two pearls waited for the morning fog slowly departed from the arena, leaving the scene as clear as day, indicating the commencement of the battle.

Pearl leaped and advanced with her staff, taking the first strike on the oblivious Coral. But her battle reflexes kicked in and deflected the blow with her lance, heavy, but sturdy. The deflected pearl back flipped and landed on a wall, slightly surprised but not enough to take her down.

Coral took her stance, gripping her lance, and advanced as fast as she could. She aimed her point, but she wasn’t able to throw her weapon and Pearl easily unbalanced her aim. Almost losing the grip on the handle, she grabbed it with her other hand and defended a strike from Pearl.

When Pearl realizes it's gonna take more than sword skills to win, she turned to the next best thing, the power of the mind.  

“You’re an old pearl, you know that? A rusty old gem, getting slower by the decade.” Pearl spoke as she took another strike, with Coral barely blocking the attack.

The two pearls have been out of commission for a very long time, but Coral was the only one getting harder to breath.  “What’s your point, pearl?”

The two pearls parried side to side, lance vs staff, leaping around the arena like it was a mid day training session with their stance wide, lowered bodies, moving in swift motions as well as keeping their eyes on the opponent.

Coral was starting to get out of breath, but Pearl was just getting started.

“Back in the day,” Pearl started, “When I first started as the new pearl, I was doing all the work while you prance around the court with our diamond! You’re always causing havoc whenever you’re around her, leaving me with more work of cleaning up after you! ” She slashed and parried with all her might, with her opponent barely keeping up both ends.

Coral defended, in both swordsmanship and the unfair statement. “Havoc? Ohno, we were never causing trouble! You on the other hand, can be the wettest blanket I have ever met, we were just trying to have fun once a while until you rain all over our fun little parade! Do you know how stressful she feels every day??”  

CLANK!

CLANK!

CLANK!

“Rain on your parade?” Pearl advanced, but barely missed and stabbed the bricked wall instead. Coral retreated and moved behind Pearl, who was struggling on getting her staff unstuck. The pink gem caught her breath and readied herself with her weapon, “Yes raining on our parade, you took my few chances to make her happy! It’s hadn’t been easy after rejection time and time again from the other diamonds of giving her a chance to prove herself!”

“Make her happy?” Pearl gritted her teeth while using all her strength and pulled out the staff, she turned and faced the pink gem, “I was able to make her happy while you were out of commission on the moon! While you were off conscious, tired from playing around with the earth simulator, I did my part and made her happy with mere pieces of wood from the planet! So it sounds like I did better than you ever could!”

Sorrow and anguish were churching inside the pink gem, she wanted to collapse down from the physical and mental exhaustion, but it looks like Pearl wasn’t done.

“And another thing!” Pearl wildly swung her staff around her, extending its length and planted it on the marble floor. “Your little nickname.” She sneered.

The minute Coral heard the intention and the tone, she became…

Defensive

Coral gripped tighter on the handle and scowled with a tired, slightly breaking voice, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh please,” Pearl retorted while adjusting her stance to match her opponent’s, “Your nickname, why did you think it was given to you? Did you really think it was “fun”, “adorable”, “cute”??”

“Uhh...no.” Coral tried to think of something reasonable, “She just didn’t want it to be confusing!”

Pearl took nothing from her reply. “That’s absurd, there's one reason you didn’t get to keep your old name and you already know why.”

Coral was panting, she was tired, she was on the edge of collapse.

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t understand why it suddenly bothered her when it never did thousands of years ago!

However, she did know the answer, but she also knows that deep down, it’s not an answer she could take.

The pink gem tried to keep herself from falling over by leaning on her lance planted to the ground. She tried to think of a comeback, but the only thing coming out from her mouth is, “Oh yeah? Well…I’m older than you!”

Pearl stood with her expression darkened, she gripped her staff and muttered under her breath, “Older, yes.” She stood her ground

“But.” She directed her staff, distracting the pink gem.

“Non.” She crouched down with her leg stretched out.

“the.” She tapped into her ballet moves

“wiser!” And swiftly propel her leg under the pink gem, knocking her down.

“Oooof!” Coral on her back, her lance disappeared into light.

Pearl took the advantage and gave an order, “Now stay down! And just admit it!”

Coral was down, but she somehow had the energy and rage to exclaim, “Admit what!?”

“Just admit nothing happened to you, and that all of what you’re doing is just a ruse!”

“I would if I can REMEMBER, you’d think I’d keep something like this and let Rose worry?!”

Pearl was slightly taken aback, she was not expecting this. A battle was commenced, and there must be a price. She swung her weapon down to the pink gem’s chest, “Any last words, Coral?”

The pink gem understood her intention, she took a deep breath, and went through the memories of being a crystal gem. The training, the court surprise attacks and recruitments, the fake shattering, the joy, the grief, the pain, and now, her last battle as a member.

She exhaled, moved the point away with the back of her hand, warily got up and dusted herself with what little dignity she had left.

With her last breath as a rebellious gem, she responded, “I guess you won, fair and square, and as for my last words, here they are: There was never a ruse, I just never knew me being hanging out with her...bothered you.”

She grabbed Pearl’s hand, and continued, “But now that I won't be there to keep you guys down, I hope you can help the rest of the gem monsters and keep the planet safe, even if I won’t be a part of it anymore.”

Pearl was trying to be vigilant and cautious, but something in her couldn't bear seeing the pink gem like this.

Pearl believed Coral was telling the truth, she wanted to take back everything she said, she wanted to break their agreed rules and hug her for dear life. But before any of that could happen, the ground rumbled, shifted as the air around turned,

hot...

And angry.

Pearl retracted her hand from Coral, and stood a few feet back, seeing that the entire arena was shaking with the familiar buzz and growl.

In the distance, a flying figure rapidly approaches the arena, and reaches the other end from the two pearls. It had wings of a giant bat, misshaped tube-like worm body form with hair and deadly spikes sticking out. As it came in closer, it roared with the echoing sounds of monstrous scree, shaking the arena even more, spreading poisonous venom as it disintegrated parts of the arena.

“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

Coral was scared and confused, she turned to Pearl, hoping she knew what they’re facing, but Pearl looked, horrifyingly, terrified. The pink gem shook Pearl by the shoulder, demanding an explanation!

“Pearl! Wh-what, what is that? And why is it here? What does it want?”

Pearl was not answering, but she shakingly lifted her arm, and pointed to the monster’s head.

Coral didn’t notice it before, but on the monster’s horrifying bee-like head, one of the horns was broken off.

“It…” Pearl whispered, “It wants me, shattered.”

End of part 2

(A/N: Heyy, so about that fusion monster. In the episode, “Earthlings” we saw Jasper was able to fuse with a corrupted gem, so it gave me the idea of two different gem monsters, fusing to get some kind of revenge, and with the same philosophy as Bluebird azurite, fusing for hate and vengeance and stuff.

Also, i’m not sure how many of you guys are actually reading and enjoying these stories so far. There’s like, more than a thousand ppl following but the only indicators for me to know how much of you enjoyed it is the likes and reblogs you guys left at every post. 

Maybe i should consider creating an account on instagram and share some previews of the story there? I could really use some advise about this, so feel free to drop a comment or an ask.

Also i’ve noticed theres been random unfollowings, to which i’ll assume to be ppl who have actually realized this is not Tripixle.

Lastly, i am here to announce that I am open for more #askmeanything, but this time, the “anything” should preferably be anything related to the written stories, which is up to this 6th chapter. Like maybe you guys have some questions regarding certain aspects of the storytelling, or maybe you guys would like to give criticism, which I’ll take and consider for future writing. However, if what you sent me in the ask contains certain topics that may be a spoiler for any future plans, then it would either be set aside until that topic is issued, or something related to “naw gurl, not right now.” kinda deal. 

And it looks like you’ve read to the end, and to that i say thank you for reading what i have to say, byee)

[wondersbeyondcompare]

More Majid Stuff

I post once in a blue moon b/c I work in random bursts and get tired easily, but here are some rambles about Majid that I’ve saved in my Notes app and probably haven’t mentioned before!

There are some rumors circulating around Majid regarding his wealth

More specifically: how he got his wealth

All these rumors range from him being a secret son of a noble family to taking shady underground jobs that paid ridiculously well

His name had been searched up more than once, but the only thing that pops up is a bakery business w/ a small branch located in the Land of Hot Sands... not too far from where Majid grew up...

Majid’s a quick learner; he just lacks the motivation lol 

Tends to overthink too often, tho, coming up with detailed plans to get out of doing the most mundane stuff

Funny to watch but a pain in the ass to comprehend 😔

Although Majid tries to get out of doing most stuff, there are some things he can’t let slide

He can get picky over how some tasks are done; honestly??? this might be a good tactic on getting him to work (“Hey, Majid. Can you help set up the decorations for tonight’s party?” “No.” “Aaaa, okay, guess we’ll just have Mark do it-“ “Mark? You want to leave decorating to him? Do you want the lounge looking like a highlighter projectile vomited over the walls and ceiling? Give me those streamers. I’ll do it myself-“)

Definitely a quality over quantity kind of person; his room may be a mess of different things, but, rest assured, it’s only the best of the best of stuff that stay for long like lava lamps

I want to say that Majid is picky about a lot of things in general, but he does have his exceptions; for example: food, napping locations, job opportunities, ummm (･_･;) That’s most of what I can think of right now, dang

This pickiness is kiiind of 👉👈 referencing a trait that the Cave of Wonders has; like the whole “only a diamond in the rough shall enter here“ business that was going on idk I’m trying my best

As you can see, I went ham when it came to the “Who disturbs my slumber” line the tiger head had lol 😅(sorry that had become your defining trait, m’boi)

And the mass of riches he’s accumulated over the years was another obvious reference to the inside of the cave as well; can also act as a loose metaphor of what’s stopping him from getting the help he needs; as the treasures in the cave were put there w/ the intent of distracting a person from the ultimate goal of the magic lamp, so does his own treasures serve as a temporary distraction from moving forward in his life

But if that’s too much of a stretch, then plz slap the inner English teacher in me and then myself

Majid’s good at looking through people’s facades and judging a person’s true character, but it’s not like he does much w/ this info

Unless they try confronting him or something, he just avoids/shuts down people he gets bad vibes from

Doesn’t make tactless comments; figured out that dealing with pissed off people was more work than it’s worth

Boi tends to ask a lot of questions when speaking to other people; partly b/c of trust issues; partly b/c he might be lowkey judging you (can’t use his unique magic all the time after all :/)

He’s the type of person who acts like he knows everything, but he really doesn’t; just hates getting looked down upon in general; will bluff his way through situations by being as vague as possible

He leans towards how his mother used to speak; that is: beating around the bush

He won’t lie to you, but it might take some time until he’ll give you the whole truth; and when I say it’ll take some time, IT REALLY WILL TAKE SOME TIME B/C THIS BOY IS UNBELIEVABLY STUBBORN 

Is casual to whoever he speaks to, no matter the age; if he gets extremely annoyed with someone, especially if they’re older than him, he’ll use this over exaggerated polite tone that makes it real obvious he’s fed up with them

Gets ticked off whenever anyone advises him to do anything, but he’ll still take that advice to heart

Majid’s probably tired all the time b/c of all the jewelry he’s carrying around smh

Majid sounds/looks like he’s angry all the time, but that’s just his resting face 😔; I mean, he’s always a little irritated, but it’s mostly b/c he’s stuck in that state of being forced awake from a deep afternoon nap (b/c... that’s usually what happens to him)

Plus, have you met his upperclassmen? Have you seen what was going on in Scarabia during Chapter 4?????? Have you met the headmaster of this school????????  (; ω ; )

He doesn’t like people touching stuff that’s his; same thing goes for people touching stuff in general that aren’t theirs; doesn’t like thieves (he’s stolen stuff when he was younger, but he justifies that he only did so to survive; and he’s not entirely wrong)

Ironic b/c his mom was a thief 🤭 

He’s also a pretty obedient student save for the whole “trying to sleep in class w/o getting caught” thing that he’s still trying to accomplish; doesn’t like it when the professors get strict with him but will grit his teeth and bear with it

Prefers magic carpets to magic broomsticks; there’s just a lot more surface area when it comes to carpets plus he’s more familiar with the former

Spends a lot of his time in the Scarabia storage room b/c it reminds him of his bedroom back home; probably became buddies w/ Kalim’s magic carpet while he was there too

But if we’re talking about the type of people Majid could tolerate befriending uummm... maybe those with good hearts?? Idk, like those who are genuinely trying to be a good person no matter what kind of obstacles they run into (referencing how the cave of wonders only let a diamond in the rough enter)

They don’t have to be all nice or sweet, but as long as Majid can tell they have kind intentions, he won’t immediately leave them

Has a “haaah... these guys are hopeless... might as well keep an eye on them so they don’t screw up any more than they already have” attitude towards these people

Other type of person Majid would unintentionally befriend are those who are also annoyed of being told what to do by upperclassmen/authority figures; ☺️🙏  vent out your frustrations together wooo

Has some squabbles with Leona when it comes to napping locations

It’s actually pretty funny to watch b/c they both don’t want to give up their spot but also they don’t want to bother getting up 

Leona wins most of the time, tho

Majid may have had a lot of energy when he was younger but now he’s a g e d

I rarely mention Majid’s lava illusion magic thing, but yeah that’s a thing; he probably won’t be able to use it to its full extent until his last year of high school and maybe a little bit later; it takes up a ton of energy; I keep on imagining him using it and joking that “aaaa the floor is lava lol”, but then I remember the psychological effects this ability has on the victim and 😬 yikes scratch that

Majid has a loud clear voice when he speaks; often startles whoever’s walking by when he naps in the shadows

 As a result of spending most of his time w/o a stable support system and no one static to guide his beliefs, Majid doesn’t follow any particular religion; he does have coworkers back at the curio/appraisal/pawn shop who do, tho, and while he doesn’t entirely understand it, he respects them as much as he can

I’ve said before that Majid selfishly keeps all his wealth to himself for fear of losing his self worth, but there are some exceptions (such as to anyone he passes who’s begging in the streets, a coworker who’s struggling to make ends meet, etc.)

He’s fine with giving away some money, but not in huge amounts 

 And if he’s giving money to anyone, it’s done in a round about way; usually w/ a dismissive excuse 

If this boi had a route, depending on how the MC acts around him, the majority of it will be spent breaking down those walls and befriending him; generally going like this: shovel all trust issues into incinerator one by one —>Get him to tolerate you —> Get him to trust you —> Befriend (?) Him —> Deal w/ his other deep seated issues —-> Romance (if we’re going for that otome game kinda thing i guess???))

I can just imagine Majid temporarily visiting the Land of Hot Sands w/ MC after befriending him and finding out the truth about his parents through his boss at the curio shop; MC encourages him to travel north to pay a visit at some facility b/c it’s rumored that at least his father is still alive 

(No idea what happened to Lara; probably suffered worse consequences due to making several prison breaks; had decently powerful magical abilities, so that would probably explain the whole forced amnesia thing that happened after their disappearance) 

Majid is torn b/w wanting to go alone b/c this is a personal matter (And he wants MC to be safe) and being scared of losing MC if something horrible happens to him on his journey north; he knows what it’s like to be suddenly abandoned, and he doesn’t want that for anybody, especially for someone he cares about 

He doesn’t want to repeat his father’s mistakes, regardless if it was accidental or not 

Majid decides to go on his own; probably had some touching parting w/ MC; maybe we’ll go full otome and have a hugging CG where he swears that he will be back for MC

And MC is just like “Aight;;; cool;;; good luck;;”; something sentimental like that 

Couple of days passed; we’re worried about him 

He returns with a worried look on his face before breaking into a relieved smile when he sees MC; power walks to hug them even tighter than before

Majid thanks them for all they’ve done; he then spends the rest of the day and well into the night describing all he’s experienced and his visit with his dad

 They go back to NRC and Majid is less bratty than before, much to the surprise of Jamil and to the delight of Kalim; actually starts to make an effort to not push people away at every opportunity (b/c he originally felt like they all had their own hidden agenda and were just using him for their own gain, y’know)

Boi becomes even more clingy towards MC; by that, I don’t mean he’s overly attached to them (he’s afraid of making the same mistake he did in the past), but rather he shows it through light casual touches here and there (a brush of the fingers when exchanging papers, patting MC’s head when they do something well, gently tugging at their sleeve when he needs their attention) and constantly checking up on them to see how they’re doing

Awkward levels in Majid increase as he constantly wonders if he’s crossing a line when it comes to him showing any kind of affection; he doesn’t want to come off as creepy and make MC hate him

Might also resist being given love and affection at first; but once he gets used to it, he absolutely m e l t s

Cuddles are 👌; might give teary eyes if MC tries to leave early during a cuddling session, but he won’t pressure them to stay; a touch starved boi

Doesn’t think much of PDA, giving or receiving; full on making out and anything further is kind of a no-go, tho;  hugging is nice and so are short and sweet kisses; will glare at anybody who says anything about it

If his s/o was clingier than he is, he might get a little embarrassed; same thing goes if his s/o was really cute

Definitely the type of boyfriend to buy random gifts for his s/o b/c these things reminded him of them

Younger Majid was in full on puppy mode all the time, or at least when he was around people he liked; also a huge people pleaser too, since he was afraid of them leaving him 

He was probably reckless too in order to entertain his friends

Was really polite, especially when it came to adults; always calling them Mister and Miss(us)

He was also just loud 

Future Majid (if he came to terms with most of his problems) would be more mellow than his teenage self; still anti-social but he’s less angry at the world now; would go on to own the curio shop after the previous owner passed on; reverted it into both a jewelry/appraisal shop in order to honor his father plus respect the previous owner’s memory as well

Sells and repairs jewelry and appraises supposedly rare items that come through his store; still does odd jobs for the people in the neighborhood but his prices aren’t as outrageously high as he made them when he was younger

He names the new store after his mother, at the request of his father (plus I only recently heard the song “House of Gold” by Twenty One Pilots and hnnnmmg it fits well with this golden boy)

Majid is interested in most things related to jewelry, probably subconsciously influenced by his father; this includes repairing bits of jewelry; he moves delicately when it comes to these kinds of tasks

He’s a night owl; it’s much quieter at night

Has bad posture from sleeping in different weird places

His body is prone to heating up easily; the fact that he lives in the Land of Hot Sands and was also sorted into Scarabia is just unfortunate luck

Sneaks off to cooler areas on campus in his free time to chill; one of his favorite spots is the Octavinelle lounge since it’s air conditioned and dark, and he can get away with taking a nap before going over his time limit and getting kicked out

The library is nice too (´∀｀)

Would like to go to Ignihyde too, but he’s put off by the feeling of being underground (gotta have that bit of irony like Jamil being afraid of bugs 👌)

He tolerates Kalim better than Jamil; probably b/c the latter scolds him for slacking off

Actually went to Kalim for tutoring advice once before realizing part of the way that his senior had no idea what he was doing; Jamil has earned his respect when it comes to academics

Kinda jealous of the duo’s stamina; Majid’s usually heaving for air after long marches or if he’s ever chosen as a backup dancer for one of Scarabia’s many parties; he’s the ( ・∇・) least athletic of my OCs...

No, he can’t dance, but he can feign the movements well enough to not get caught

[thudthud]

the hunger of colonization

I transport the account of colonizer on my skin, The karma of my ancestors, a vicious quantity left by the need to win Every mis step taken is another memory within my brain My ancestors did nought for creation… in fact they were quite vain There is nothing I can do about altering the past All I can do is put in sufficient exertion to make the change of energy last My grandpa used to say, “ There are good Indians and bad”* HOWEVER, It was on their backs that I’ve received everything I’ve ever had.

Whenever these words were spoken I would shut my ears off from it pretend I was in my happy place and acquit them from all judgment. I know now that doing that wasn’t the right decision That I should have made standing with my friends my one and only mission. The speeches they expressed around me never rested well in my stomach I could see all the privilege I’ve been provided from it. You may look at me…. and ask what backs behind me I see.

I see Grandmas and Aunts. Uncles and Dads. Babies, friends and some very injured lads. I see their home and land being given to people because of the color of skin they had. I know what it feels like to have your home ripped from you. To only be able to look at a distance as your home is used without you. Being told you were never welcome in the first place That you need to leave so someone ‘better’ can take your space. The words that left my mouth much were, “WHAT HAVE I DONE WRONG?” “DID I NOT TRY TO TO EVERYTHING YOU ASKED, HAVE I NOT BEEN STRONG?”

When I opted to make my life about making things better, I ungracefully untied knots that had always been together. Knots within myself and the people around me. Knots within the very constructs of society. a lot of those knots never parted whatsoever, A lot of the people thought their remarks were quite clever. They really weren’t clever in the slightest. A lot of their views were incredibly rightest. The year right now is twenty one years past the millennium, I still have aunts that worked and slapped kids in gymnasiums. They hide under their veils and hoards of cloth. Sitting around tables together to scoff I know this to be true because I’ve seen it with my own eyes, Resting over tables and telling each other lies.

The color of your skin should not dictate your worth. Certain things should not be a guarantee from birth. The path forward is curvy and long The start of it wasn’t marked with the bang of the gong For a lot of us this will be our lifelong matter I really hope that at some point we can all work together.

My skin is pale and white. but please understand I am still trying to do what is right. There is no way in the world I could ever fully comprehend, Id like to help with anything to try and make amends Saying sorry does nothing at all, It’s the actions that go with them that allow a person to stand tall. If you filled a room with my family you’d see Half of them are bending backwards screaming like Banshee’s Their screams fill the room with darkness and hate. Their ideas and opinions have become stagnate. Its time now to hear the voices of those who were hurt For me and my people to help them burn down the church.

This system was built on all of their blood and sweat changing from residential schools to foster homes with very little and yet Many middle fingers are still raised high Justin Trudeau are we allowed to ask why? Why was there an “Indian problem”** to be fixed? Why is there so much internal trauma that’s so deep and all mixed? People in these positions of power doing the same over again despite the people getting louder

If the ancient Greeks travelled here to see democracy in action they’d cry kneel to the ground and Throw their hands to the sky “Why doesn’t everyone have a voice” “We invented democracy so people would have a real choice” If I had a child in the world today, I would be so wary of the words people use around and say. How big a deal it is to raise our babies into Earth Warriors, never knowing pain and only being filled with wonder. Full disclosure? I have no idea what I am doing all I know is I need to get behind what is brewing. This us and them has gone on forever you’d think after a few hundred years we would have gotten much better.

I read columbus’s*** journals in my first year of university, A book wrapped in hate and providing much clarity. “These people are beautiful” he wrote in his journal “They would make excellent slaves” he said and I hurled This journal entry has impacted the lives of you and me These journal entries shaped our entire society.

At one point in time, I was racist and all of my views were undeniably baseless. I some times remember those views in the back of my mind how can people who speak those thoughts ever think they are kind? We need to tell people to stop spewing inappropriate garbage Stop looking at all these people as targets and listening to their knowledge There’s a man in my town who stands on a box with a mic His speakers being over used with too much force and might Babies and kids walk past him with their mothers. Hearing from him that God hates their sisters and brothers. Freedom of speech only goes to far Human rights need to not be seen as bizarre I come from the settlers of this land coming here being promised something very grand When I walk on the sidewalk people clear the space for me If only they knew for them id take a knee. I am starting to understand what it can feel like to be hyper aware of your skin. To not feel totally comfortable in any space that you are in. I have friends who are both one and the other. Getting blamed by both communities for not being another The internal struggle they wake up daily with is something we need to start understanding. That being part of both communities should be something rewarding.

I used to be a day camp counselor, getting to work with amazing kids every summer. One week a child came in my care, being sent with a rap sheet I was hyper aware. The week started just like any other, telling the kids the rules and to get along with one another. He sat separate from most of the children, asking every ten minutes to go to the washroom. After the second day I pulled him aside to just talk we ended up on the forest path outside and walked The child was going to the washroom you see To wash his hands it was not to pee. “I do it every ten minutes, because out of all the kids I am certainly the dirtiest” He showed me his beautifully tanned skin and he sighed feeling like all of himself was something to hide. Tears filled my eyes and started to fall, I didn’t think anything I had to say would have any pull at all. this sweet baby in front of me was hurting so much it was a crime To make an innocent child believe they are covered in slime. “Baby boy I am going to tell you this once and very clear, there is nothing wrong with your skin at all my dear. You are a child unlike any other, being blamed for the anger and called a great bother. I see you my child I see you so clear You are so beautiful this breaks my heart and fills it with fear I worry that someone else is going to say something like this to you and that you will try to mend the cracks yourself with nasty unfit views. When you stand in the pond out back of the center, the tadpoles come to you like you’re an energy center. The bees fly around you with so much glee, I know no other person who has bees sleep on their knees” We really need to get into everyone’s minds that being racist isn’t cool and all of that knowledge hand off starts within our schools If I had been educated properly maybe getting thrown into it wouldn’t be so bewildering That colonization hasn’t done much good for the world, its sent us all spinning. When I was growing up I was told there are three sides to every story. That the truth was hidden somewhere in the middle of all the hate and swearing. I think if we all just sat down and centered with the earth once a day. We would all pay more mind to what these people say. *This sentence isn’t appropriate and is incredibly wrong. I loved my Grandpa very much but his views weren’t right.

**Duncan Campell Scott said this in parliament quite a few years before Hitler announced that Germany “Has to fix the Jew problem” This is genocidal speech.

***we do not capitalize the names of those who do not matter.

By Thudthud

[astonishinglegends]

Ep 195: The Siren Call of Hungry Ghosts Part 2

“Only when the struggle was far advanced did I finally comprehend the meager state of my resources as well as the might and swiftness of the unseen enemy. Let this be a warning to us all.” 

– Joe Fisher, from page 307 of The Siren Call of Hungry Ghosts, published by Paraview Press

Description:

In tonight’s Part Two of our discussion of Joe Fisher’s book, The Siren Call of Hungry Ghosts, with Special Guest Rich Hatem, we continue to examine the narrative of Fisher’s interactions with Spirit Guides through channeling and their troubling results. With the messages and guidance becoming increasingly confusing, frustrating, and seemingly misleading, Fisher and those in his channeling group start to doubt the intentions and purpose of voices from the other side. Even as the entreaties grew insistent and hopes turn to dubiety, the Guides would provide unknowable details beyond rational explanation, which only served to fuel the desire for understanding. As Fisher followed just one more breadcrumb after breadcrumb down a blind alley, we’ll never know if he found his answers in the afterlife or if the truth was there all along amongst the living. When it comes to finding meaning through channeling in Fisher’s case, the pertinent answer is that the medium is often the message.

Reference Links:

Joe Fisher, investigative journalist, and author

Billy Bunter

Catechesis

Catechesis on the Angels, authored by Pope John Paul II

“In Search of Hungry Ghosts: The Mysterious Death of Joe Fisher,” by Louis Proud in EdgeScience, Issue 43

Vroman’s Bookstore, in Pasadena, CA

The Vickers Wellington, a British WWII medium bomber anti-submarine aircraft

“The Vickers Wellington And Its Defensive Ring” on WorldWarWings.com

The “Submarine Reincarnation” episode from Unsolved Mysteries, Season 6, Episode 1

Newmarket Racecourse – where the soldiers slept due to a lack of accommodations

Photos of the Newmarket Racecourse grandstands

Related Books:

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CREDITS:

Episode 195: The Siren Call of Hungry Ghosts Part 2.  Produced by Scott Philbrook & Forrest Burgess; Special thanks to Rich Hatem; Audio Editing by Sarah Vorhees Wendel. Sound Design by Ryan McCullough; Tess Pfeifle, Producer, and Lead Researcher; Research Support from the astonishing League of Astonishing Researchers, a.k.a. The Astonishing Research Corps, or "A.R.C." for short. Copyright 2020 Astonishing Legends Productions, LLC. All Rights Reserved.