#i swear this was supposed to be someone else

[velvetbeeez]

۶ৎ᭙𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ? ๋࣭ ⭑✮⋆˙

⊹₊⟡⋆ Allow me to dissect every fiber of your being solely based on the day you entered the world. Before that, let me introduce you to the art of Numerology, a concept as old as time…quite literally, for it depends on dates and time for its functioning. I never understood why it works, since it uses time and the calendar- human-made things…but I suppose somewhere, between the layers of inventions of mortals and god’s will, lies a crack, this sacred concept rests there…

Everyone has a numerology number which they calculate with their birthdates.

It is abysmally easy, hence my expertise in it ୨ৎ

ִ ࣪𖤐 ℋ 𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑜 𝓘 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝑒𝓇𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓎 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇?

╰┈➤You add the digits of the day you were born and ta-da, you have your numerology number ♡

For instance, my best friend, Rini, was born on 24 (yes the month and the year does not matter)

So, to know her numerology number, I will add 2 and 4, 2+4= 6

Her number is 6.

My other friend was born on 9, we will add 0 to 9 and get 9, his number is 9

Now, I was born on 28, so, we add 2+8 and get 10, but we must get a one-digit number so we add 1 to 0 and get 1, my numerology number is 1.

Easy peasy ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Now comes, the shimmering, brilliant question:

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅᭙𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓷𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷?

The numbers tell you the planet you’re ruled by, thereby showing light to your behaviour, your life, your soul and the likes...

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 1

★ Ruled by the Sun. I love this one because I am a number one AAAAAAAASJSJSSKSK....Anyways, if you are number 1, you are a leader, born with a crown on your head and anger in your eyes. You are determined and ambitious, you get whatever you want with minimal effort. You shine the brightest in the crowd, attention is on you whenever you try to have it. Success and opportunity is on your doorstep at all times. You also keep your emotions and feelings within you, locking them securely and throwing the key into an abyss, frightened to show any vulnerability to anyone. You usually get stabbed in the back by people who you loved with all you had…You are glimmery, you glisten and give light and life to everyone around you but, beware, do not let your brilliance get to your head, or you might burst, taking with you, everyone else, down. You are a star, shine on...

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 2

✮ Ruled by the moon…. Well, you are the epitome of beauty itself, you are someone people stare at for hours without getting bored. Moon is also connected to emotions, you are a very emotional and sensitive being, like the softest plushy when poked a little hard with a sharp nail, tears, and bleeds cotton…You probably cry if one of your teddies falls off your bed. You are also very intuitive, you know when danger is lurking around, and you know when opportunity is near. You are also spiritual and see what no one else does, you are calm and cold, like water…Anyways, beautiful, gorgeous, calm sweetling, you are the best thing to land on earth. My friend is a number 2 and I swear on all I hold dear, she is the kindest, sweetest, though quietest, the most cherishable person ever.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

❁ ๋࣭⭑𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 3

★ Omg, yes, Jupiter, my brother, and my dad are number 3. Guess what? Both of them are cunning and yet, wise. If you have someone in your life with the number 3, you must listen to their advice at all times. And if you are a number 3, hi there, the shining light and source of wisdom and cleverness. Jupiter is, in Hindi, called ‘The Guru’, meaning, the teacher. You literally represent the glorious higher knowledge, expansion, growth, and advisor. You are also humorous and fun-seeking, you are social, loving and jolly…But you might get unfocused sometimes because you like to do everything at once. Apart from that, you grow and you learn, you teach and you move on. You know what to do and when to do it, you are who people look up to before making a decision. Your footsteps are traced by many, they know whatever step you will take is in the right direction…

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　

꩜ .ᐟ๋࣭⭑𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 4

★ Number 4, You are ruled by Rahu, which is a shadow planet, not visible to the eyes but can be associated with Uranus. In the Hindu mythology, there is a story about a demon called Rahuketu whose head was cut from its body, by a god. Rahu, being the head and Ketu being the tail. Rahu is the head, the brains, the dependable. You might not be physically very apt but the cogs in your brain turn faster than the speed of light. You are an academic weapon, a force to be reckoned with. You are loyal, disciplined, and hard-working, however, you might overwork yourself sometimes and get stubborn with your ways. Anyways, you are cunning, you know what you want, you are pragmatic and you are well, someone to fear.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　

𖣂 ⋆˙⟡𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 5

★ Ruled by Mercury, the planet of intelligence and intellect. You are very social and good luck follows you like a puppy wherever you go, you are sharp-minded and intuitive, and you see through people as easily as you breathe. You embrace change and adventure. You are a social butterfly and make friends with a snap of your finger, you too, like number 4 are an academic weapon. Mercury governs versatility and quick thinking, which are key traits of the number 5. But you can find it difficult to commit to someone. You are also impulsive and can lack focus at times. But you are always quick to find your footing back. You see clearly and you act with a plan forged into the back of your brain.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　

˚⊱🪷⊰˚𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 6

★ The planet Venus rules number 6, which is the planet of love, beauty, and harmony. This influences you to be compassionate, affectionate, and drawn to beauty and art. You have an innate sense of aesthetics and a deep appreciation for the pleasures of life, whether through relationships or artistic pursuits. You are draped in laces, silks, and the likes, you make even the ugliest piece of clothing into a piece of art. You are the aesthetics of a Sofia Coppola movie in the flesh. You are also very homely, you want to have a family and you love and adore kids.  You are a born caregiver, you wrap the people you love in a warm blanket and hand them hot tea. It is not a burden and you love it, you love the feeling, the proud fuzzing feeling in your heart after you had just helped someone. You are usually the friendliest but once you have been angered, it becomes next to impossible to win you back. You are a great friend to have. Anyone who you love is blessed. I can tell you so because my bestie is a number 6 hehe <3

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　

♱ ༘⋆𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 7

★  Oh goodness…yes well number 7, ruled by Ketu, the lower part of Rahuketu. Another shadow planet but is sometimes, though wrongly associated with Neptune You are physically very apt, you have a good body and you’re great at sports. You see what no one else does but sometimes you do get lost in your little own abyss of thoughts. You also have a very romantic notion of love, something only seen in movies and books. You tend to do stuff without thinking twice. You are though, very spiritual and people feel a sense of calm washing over them after talking to you. You can be VERY mean when you want to (experienced it first hand, hence the omg in the beginning) though most of the time you’re a lil cutie, clueless and enjoying life like a party with the best booze and songs.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   ��　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　

∞ 🪐.࿔*:･ 𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 8

★ Number 8, ruled by Saturn, covered in rings of eternal karma and longing…Being number 8, you are infinite, in every sense, your love is infinite but so is your yearning and pain. You have to work thrice as hard as everyone else to climb the same mountain. You are bound by the clutches of karma, to elaborate, if you wrong someone, it will come back instantly and with a 100 x force, hitting you square in the jaw, so beware about that. The perks though, of karma being your forever roommate is that no one can be a bitch to you and get away with it. Also, you will reach success and a load amount of it but later in comparison to others around you. You are calming and fun to talk to, you are spiritual with a penchant for exploring the unknown. My advice? enjoy life and lessen the mulling over every little aspect of it.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　

⚚ ⋆˙⟡𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 9

★ Number 9, ruled by Mars, problems, sorrow, yearning, beauty, and sweetness all mixed in a bittersweet pie…You have had a tough childhood, haven’t you? Yet you come out of all of it, the sweetest, the kindest, and with a gold-polished heart. You exude a tough exterior because you do not want to be hurt again but in the depths of your hearts you would NEVER wish bad on anyone. You’re just amazing like that. You make everyone feel at home but somehow always feel away from home. You are emotional and sensitive, even a tiny jab creeps into your heart, building a home for a train of thoughts that goes nowhere. But, despite it all, your soul is pure, your hardships do not define you, you are a being of love and greatness, you are spiritual and made for bigger things in the world. You are meant to touch the clouds and fly high above everyone else because you know it all…you have seen it all…

[solbaby7]

Can I have a margarita with a salt rim? Neat please 🤪

warning: alluding to smut bc sometimes actually writing the smut is boooringggg 🤭

-> BLURB BAR <-

[ “got quite a mouth on you. someone should teach you how to use it” + smut + az ]

Trouble had a funny fucking way of finding you.

You weren’t sure how you were going to explain your way out of this. It was just supposed to be some light training—testing the limits of a power within you that had only just began manifesting itself. Eris had been perfectly clear, voice calm and even as he coached you through what to do. “Slow your breathing and close your eyes. Picture where you want to go then reach for it.”

He should’ve been more thorough. Should’ve specified picturing a place within Autumn Court. Maybe if he had, you wouldn’t be here; wherever the fuck that was. Never once had you seen the sky so dark, the stars shining that much brighter against its canvas of murky oblivion.

It’s rather soothing, if not oddly familiar—like you’d been here before or had seen it once in a dream.

There’s no time to decipher the near-debilitating deja vu when you hear the heavy thud of a soldiers boots against the cobblestone. He’s a little drunk, steps sloppy and laughs loud as he jokes with a friend, arm digging into his side. You only catch a glimpse of his companions handsome face—and it’s memorable; all perfect angles, dark ink and smoldering shadows. Brilliant wings stand proudly behind him, shoulders stiff, hair mussed and full lips pressed into a thin line. A wisp of darkness curls around his ear and every muscle locks in place when eyes meet. “You!”

That’s your cue, his voice snapping you back to the present and your feet are taking off before you’ve even fully comprehended the siphons he wears. The color leathers he dons. The inky tattoos branded against the cut of his jaw. Descriptors you’d heard your brother prattle on about it time and time again, hateful worlds about a temperamental shadowsinger for the Night Court.

Fuck.

Of all the godsdamned places to winnow for the first time.

Thank shit you’re somewhat properly dressed, riding pants tucked neatly inside knee-length boots. Hair braided back and out of the way, a savior when dashing through the streets, weaving and bobbing through street vendors and small businesses. Its instinct to keep to the shadows, blending into nothingness until the sound of following footsteps fades.

Stopping to catch your breath would be your downfall, heart hammering and chest heaving too rapidly to notice the hankering figure looming behind you until sentient shadows sneak out like a limb and wraps around the tail of your braid in an iron grip. “Motherfucker!”

Azriel wishes he didn’t notice your beauty but he swears he recognizes it.

Hates the way his eyes scan over such pretty features, memorizing the plush of your mouth and the burning fire that erupts behind your iris. Curiosity grows when he realizes he’s seen them before, when the day is done and his duties are left at the door. When his head hits the pillow and his eyes close—foggy glimpses of your face is the one he sees.

A misty apparition turned tangible and now that he’s got you in the flesh, he refuses to let go. “Got quite the mouth on you.” He’s wearing gloves you notice, one hand reaching out to grip at your jaw, forcing you to stare at him head on. You pretend not to be affected by his strict surveillance and the way it takes in every inch of your face. Dragging down the slope of your neck long enough to acknowledge the attire that certainly isn’t sold at any stores near here. “Someone should teach you how to use it.”

“So, someone else will. Now let me go.” That’s the wrong answer but surely, he can feel it too—this tension that’s built on blind yearning and nursed by one hell of a chase; the kind that gets Azriel’s blood pumping and pants tightening from the satisfaction of catching such formidable prey.

Of having such a pretty reward for his efforts.

One that feels so familiar—so right.

“Not until you tell me how you got in.” A destructive fire eats away at your restraint when the rough cadence of his voice reaches your ears. It’s smooth like aged whiskey, the aftertaste a pleasant burn that warms your blood and melts your marrow to mush.

Maybe that’s why you answer with such little resistance, wonder still lingering around the edges of your syllables. “I winnowed.”

“Right through the wards?”

“There were wards?” Az doesn’t even bother trying to mask the breathless laugh that emits, disbelief leaking from every pore and you’re absolutely positive that alarm bells have been sounded—proper authorities alerted of a breach in their city. Your stomach turns, nerves frayed with worry when you realize just how deeply you’d fucked up. “Look, I meant no harm. I don’t even know where I am so if you’d just let me go, I can return to where I’m supposed to be.”

“Oh honey,” Breath catches at the silky tone he adopts, one arm braced near your head. It’s difficult not to notice the strong chords of his muscles jumping in your peripheral. “You’re exactly where I want you to be. Fat chance I’ll let you go now.”

[kkuzushi]

જ Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. . .ᐟ

˚𖦹 ‘ Chapter 25 : Running away.. from you or with you? ִ ࣪𖤐

— PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

“Yn? Where are you–” You didn’t hear the end of Lumine’s question as you dashed out of the cafeteria as soon as Scaramouche stopped responding.

You almost didn’t wonder why you felt the need to save him. He’s Scaramouche, he’s not some damsel in distress that needs saving. It was already too late to question it all as you found yourself searching for him in every hall.

It wasn’t difficult to spot him. A large crowd screaming, asking for both autographs and selfies was an enough sign you’ve succeeded in your search.

Your first instinct was to turn around and walk the other way. Maybe even pretend you never saw him in this mess. After all, Scaramouche was a grown man, perfectly capable of handling himself—except, well…

“Don’t touch my hair,” he snapped, swatting away a grabby hand. His usual scowl was in place, but you could tell he was just barely holding back from shoving the whole crowd away. His pen was trapped in someone else’s grip, his jacket was being tugged at from multiple directions, and his face screamed get me out of here.

And, somehow, you were the only one who could.

“Ugh,” you muttered under your breath before sighing and stepping forward. “Alright, move, move—give the man some space.” You pushed your way through the crowd, ignoring the surprised glances thrown your way.

Then, before Scaramouche could say anything, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the chaos. “Come on, superstar. Time to go.”

You didn’t even get the chance to process how fast things escalated. One second, you were pulling Scaramouche out of the crowd, and the next, you were running.

Full speed, weaving through hallways, dodging students, dragging a very annoyed model behind you.

“Are you even still in college?!” you huffed, barely looking over your shoulder. “I swear, everyone just lost their minds over one guy talking!”

Scaramouche huffed, but before you were about to argue again, he yanked you back.

You barely had a second to react before he pulled you toward a door you hadn’t even noticed—the janitor’s closet.

“What the—”

Before you could finish, the door shut behind you with a soft click.

Dark. Cramped. Too close.

You inhaled sharply, back pressed against shelves of cleaning supplies, and Scaramouche was right there—so close his breath fanned against your cheek.

“…Seriously?” you muttered, shifting slightly. “Out of all places?”

“Would you rather get trampled?” he shot back, his voice low.

Your breaths mingled in the darkness, ragged from the sprint, but it wasn’t just that anymore.

Scaramouche had you pinned. One arm braced against the shelf above your head, the other still gripping your wrist, keeping you right where he wanted you. Not that there was anywhere else to go.

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, the way his breath ghosted over your skin—shaky and uneven.

“…Move back,” you muttered, voice lower than intended.

“I can’t,” Scaramouche shot back, but he didn’t even try.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, neither of you daring to move. Every shallow breath felt like a spark in the dark—a charge waiting to explode.

Scaramouche's grip on your wrist didn’t loosen, but his fingers twitched, as if he just realized how tightly he was holding on. You felt it too.

“You’re staring,” you murmured, almost teasing—almost.

He scoffed, but the usual sharpness in his voice was missing. “What else am I supposed to do? The lights are off.”

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how every inch of him was pressed against you. The heat of his body, the way his breath fanned against your skin—it was too much.

The door rattled as someone jiggled the handle from the outside.

“Locked?” A muffled voice grumbled. “Damn janitors..”

You and Scaramouche froze. The last thing either of you needed was to be found like this.

A few seconds passed before the footsteps faded, leaving you in the dark once more.

“…We’re leaving,” you said first, reaching for the handle.

Scaramouche grabbed your wrist again. Not stopping you. Just.. holding.

Your heart lurched.

Then, after a beat, he let go.

The two of you let out a heavy sigh of relief. Two awkward situations after the other, it felt impossible to recover from that.

“You are to never speak about that with anyone,” you finally turned to face him, narrowing your eyes to his.

He grinned, “How about a few friends?”

You shot him a glare that could freeze water. “Scaramouche, I swear to—”

“I’m kidding.” He chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender, though his smirk was still there, the same smug, infuriating one that made your blood boil.

— ꒰꒰﹒The forced proximity wasn’t planned at all but I realized how much it’d fit since this chapter didn’t have any actual ending in my outline. I hope you enjoyed these two new chapters, I made sure they’re both lengthy. <3

— ꒰꒰﹒TAGLIST : @raineyun @hayamie @sketcheeee @wraithisd3adinside @heusalettle @liuaneee @yevurin @mywillt0live @kaikaidenkai @alatusorrow @shrimplyasleep @minstarrs @reivelmin @scaraenthusiast1 @girlbesofr2814 @yawn-zi @eternallykira-143 @theintruder1000 @bittersweetmiko @kangyeonie @qt-yhuji @midnightfiction143 @cinnamonroll-lover @iloveescara @meowmewow7

— ꒰꒰﹒OPEN. [ 25/50 ]

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This AU is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.

[moonknixght]

Was doing normal lighting study and ended up drawing Miguel O’Hara

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hello Madam. Sorry Madam.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[mishy-mashy]

I said this in a whole reblog, but just copy-pasting to a separate post because I think it'll give some reading comprehension and reblogs don't show up in the search feature.. again, I'm reiterating what I said in another post.

Go check out @demidokuriya 's post for this; OP's post made me put this all down in like. 20 minutes. Mind went vroom vroom cuz HEY THEY'RE ONTO SOMETHING.

(They also reblogged the post with some hint to some behind the scenes of what led to the ideas if you wanna check that out)

Look below at how, when Mineta told AFO to spare Tokoyami, AFO specifically went "..."

He remembers Jirou and thinks, The braying howls of the weak...

He was going to take Tokoyami's Quirk. He took Hawks'. But after Mineta pleaded with him, AFO just straight-up left and didn't take anyone else's Quirk.

AFO saw Yoichi in Mineta.

These scenes are near-identical to each other.

Mineta and Yoichi (at that time) are both much smaller than the normal person at their age

They're both hurt, yet dragged themselves up from the ground to throw something at AFO, to get his attention and make their voice

Both are considered weak, even if they have a Quirk (Mineta's Pop-Off and Yoichi's undeveloped Factor)

The fact that Yoichi got AFO's attention here by throwing a can at him, while Mineta got his attention by throwing a Pop-Off ball; and it stuck.

Mineta's call for his attention landed and actually stuck to AFO. This is unlike when Yoichi and his can bounced off, and AFO kicked him, not listening to him; AFO listened to Mineta and left Tokoyami alone, technically doing what Mineta wanted—to not hurt this person.

AFO just went on to hurt more people away from Mineta's [Yoichi's] eyes so the small weakling wouldn't see.

Yoichi and Mineta both cried to AFO to not hurt in his ways, when AFO was intent on stealing people's Quirks

AFO even stole Hawks' Quirk during this time.

He had time to steal Hawks' Quirk, and though he could've tossed him to the side, he let Hawks stand in his way.

He had the energy. Right after this event, he flew off and left the scene. But he didn't go for Tokoyami immediately.

And this let Mineta play his part, and remind AFO of Yoichi.

"A putrid, festering Quirk Factor."

That sounds like Yoichi, AFO.

".. such garbage."

Hey hey hey, what did Yoichi throw at him when they were kids?

A discarded can. Garbage.

This chapter (385) where AFO listens to Mineta is literally called [A Youthful Urge].

Mineta told AFO to take his Pop-Off (hurt him) instead. But last time, AFO hurt Yoichi by kicking him; this time, AFO not only listened to Mineta to not hurt Tokoyami, but didn't touch Mineta at all.

Even though this time, Mineta [Yoichi] offered to take that place of suffering.

Yoichi didn't do that back then. AFO just turned on little Yoichi anyway.

Yoichi through his whole existence is literally [the braying howls of the weak]. AFO acknowledges he's weak and idealistic, yet he still loves him.

Side note about this panel, I think it's interesting that in this vision, this was the first time we saw Yoichi's eyes: when he was being defiant, despite being pushed down by someone much stronger than him.

Really characteristic of him, honestly. Yoichi's soft-spoken and frail, but it's always reiterated that Yoichi had a powerful will against his stronger big brother.

Mineta at this moment reminded him too much of Yoichi, because the two scenes are near-identical to each other. Parallels, really.

Reiterating something from OP's post that I reblogged this from;

"The reminder of his brother made him uncomfortable, so he hurried away."

AFO didn't want to hurt Yoichi again.

[saturnniidae]

Often think about how it's kinda funny the way AFO tried to twist Tomuras skin condition into the itch being his inate need to destroy or whatever when he's had it since before Decay like. Dude it's just stress. Or autism. Probably both.

[misiahasahardname]

shout out to george beard and harold hutchins for making me feel like a normal person as a kid

[alongtidesoflight]

i hate going to the hairdresser so much

[arovalentines]

work place pissing me the fuck offfffff

[apple-grass-and-smiles]

First Sentence Game

I promised you I'd do this, @sisterofficerlucychen. It's only been 10 days, which is kind of a record for me.

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Tagging (hopefully I'm not misremembering that any of you write fic) @chenlucys, @violetsandmagpies, @daisyejones, @whitesunlars, and @electricbluebutterflies.

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Bearing the Unbearable Weight (The Rookie):

In the days immediately after the break-up (the collapse of her world) Lucy logs a record number of hours at the LAPD shooting range.

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Nothing More Than His Wife (The Rookie):

The new Mrs. Tim Bradford is haunted by a ghost. It follows her everywhere, popping up in the most random spots. The ghost is at the nearby Korean food truck, in her husband’s car, hanging out in the park they had a picnic at. The ghost is not a particularly malicious one, but Mrs. Bradford can’t help but feel like she’ll never measure up against it, against the specter of Lucy Chen. 

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i used to know my place was the spot next to you (now I'm searching the room for an empty seat) (The Rookie):

The hardest part of Lucy’s day is going to bed. Two weeks earlier, before the breakup, when going to bed meant making funny faces at Tim as they brushed their teeth together and slow kisses and cuddling, it had been the highlight of most days. She had looked forward to bed. Now she brushes her teeth alone and crawls into a bed that is just hers. Or almost just hers. 

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How I Show I Love You (The Rookie):

Tim doesn’t know the last time he spent time doing something solely because he enjoyed it (other than watching a couple hours of football each week). Never mind doing something fun with another person. And certainly never with a rookie who hadn’t even passed their one-year mark. But he also hasn’t trained someone like Chen before. 

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i get along without you some nights (Prodigal Son):

The Christmas tree was already up when Martin was… (Jessica was still trying to find the polite term for it, trying different ones on) taken away. Normally Jessica insisted on no hints of Christmas in the home until the Thanksgiving dinner had been cleared from the table, but Malcolm had campaigned valiantly to put it up early. As per usual, Ainsley had joined in, asking Jessica to make an exception to her rule and then Martin had given Jessica that look, the one that had been crumbling her resolve since the day they met. 

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Cotard's Delusion (or the Process of Being Resurrected) (The Rookie):

I am dead. It’s the only thought ringing in Lucy’s mind as she closes her eyes, leans her head forward, finding no place to rest in the barrel Caleb has determined will be her last resting place.

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Dirtying the Slates (The Rookie):

So, Bishop and Lopez, or mostly Lopez, rig the roundup so Tim wins. Interesting , Lucy thought. She twirled her ring on her finger for half a moment, considering if it was her place to comment or not, before throwing caution to the wind and interjecting. “Wait, uh, are you guys trying to rig it so that Tim wins?” (Rule one of getting information in an interrogation: start with a question you already know the answer to.)

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Wrapped Around Your Finger (Like a Ring) (The Rookie):

Chen would not stop messing with her ring and Tim was a matter of seconds from using his TO Voice to go and confiscate it. Even winning the round-up (again) hadn’t put him in a good enough mood that the reflection from the light of the food trucks bouncing off the opal ring wouldn’t annoy him. Chen clearly was not aware that her rhythmic movements meant he was hit in the eye by a reflected ray of light every four seconds. 

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In Search of Air (The Rookie):

During her sophomore year of college, Lucy had had to memorize all of the symptoms of a panic attack as listed in the DSM-V. Technically the assignment was just to learn four or five of the 13 listed in the manual, but Lucy, ever the perfectionist, had been determined to memorize them all, to always be just that much better at psychology than the people around her. So, when she found herself once again locking herself in one of Mid-Wilshire precinct’s utility closets, it was that list of 13 symptoms she thought back on. 

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Through a Glass Darkly (Prodigal Son):

Malcolm Whitly's favorite color has always been red. It’s warm and bright and passionate, just like him. It’s the first color you notice in any crowd. It calls out to you and then pulls you headfirst into its world. His father had a red sweater when Malcolm was about 10. It was the softest thing Malcolm had ever felt. Martin said he had had to throw it out one night after spilling tea on it, but Malcolm had always loved that sweater. He still does. He has spent the intervening years searching for one that was similar so he could buy one for himself. He has loved the color for almost three decades now with absolutely no sign of his opinion changing any time in the near future. Red reminds Malcolm of his father and he loves his father. 

Malcolm Bright's favorite color has been blue most of his life. It’s calming and stable and peaceful, all the things he strives to be. It’s a color that can fade into the background when needed but also draw your eye if you’re looking for it. It’s always there to be beside you when you need it. 

[warningstandbygo]

The great thing about being an Adult is that if you randomly get Extremely Overwhelmed by Existence, no one can stop you from going into your closet in your bedroom with your laptop, changing into a onesie, and sitting in the dark quiet enclosed space all by yourself (even though you're the only one here because your spouse isn't home from work yet).

[fragglerockopinions]

You're supposed to ask for help. If you don't ask for help you're never going to get help and you will be condemned for being useless and taking no actions to help yourself. If you ask for help. no one is going to help you. you are not allowed to wish that anyone help you or expect anyone to help you or you are a selfish piece of shit. you are not allowed to wish things were better. You're not allowed to ask for help actually because you are selfish and you didn't think about how others might feel being put in the vulnerable and intimate position of being asked for help. your friends did not consent to being asked for help or explained why you've been having problems and you should have thought about the way they felt before you forced them to read your texts asking them for help. I'm not even joking I should just kill myself because there is actually genuinely no such thing as getting better or getting help or being a good friend ?

[kimmkitsuragi]

if i dont see my friends tomorrow i will literally die

[scarecrowbutch]

PLEASE IM JUST TRYING TO FIND AN OLD POST 😭

[purplelea]

Twewy native Pre week 2 neku and kh1 Riku would be the most toxic friend group ever

I had to specify neku as twewy native because in dream drop josh straight up said they all died and that's why they got sent to traverse town. But given his lines it's clear he's at least past peak asshole neku.

Thoughts?

OH YEAH VERY TRUE. but actually I don't even think they'd be friends, if that makes sense. Riku needs someone kind who looks up to him (like Sora and Kairi), and Neku pre-twewy... isn't that. Neku on the other hands needs people he can relate to and who share his worldviews (ex: how he got along with Joshua in week 2 and was able to have many interesting discussions with him despite, yknow, thinking Joshua murdered him). So it wouldn't actually work if there was only the two of them: Riku doesn't share Neku's values of shutting himself from people because he's scared of getting hurt & hurting them. And Neku only looks up to CAT.