#if you have any send some my way

[saikikdoodles]

and a happy new year!

[naffeclipse]

Talk about your monster husband ocs coward (affectionate❤️)

Everyone, the tumblr user themeeplord is bullying me (affectionate <3)!!

You have no idea how normal I am about my monster OCs. They're so lovely just let me—ahhh!

Hawthorn is a Mothman monster. His wings are based on the garden tiger moth and he is so fluffy! He has a thick fuzz on his neck and chest and is a warm, cuddlebug. He also possesses bright orange eyes that pierce the darkness and startle the unfortunate late-night hikers or anyone piercing into the woods after midnight.

He has a thing for hanging out in the thick woods near where the MC lives. Wherever he goes, bad omens follow. He really shouldn't be near MC—he knows he'll be the death of his precious little human, but he can't help it. He's drawn to the MC like a moth to a flame (heheh). He's delightful and gentlemanly, but don't let that fool you. He's got a possessive stretch a mile wide and does not take kindly to anyone giving the MC looks or reaching out for a too-familiar touch. He will bristle and buzz, and fly swift and silent through the darkness to chase after anyone to ensure the MC stays all to himself. He is a bad omen, after all.

Grease is an oil demon! He feeds off of fear, literally, and delights in terrifying people in the night. His body is slick and iridescent, and he is constantly dripping black goo from his person. He is capable of shifting his form to hide in a puddle, slink underneath doors, or bubble through a crack in a broken window. He's got wicked sharp teeth, and eyes like a tiger but with a pale, unsettling blue color. He possesses tendrils on his head that constantly drip and a long, slick tail that he can use to grab MC by the ankle. He's terribly seductive and charming, terrifying but mischievous. He likes to say 'boo' just to watch MC jump. Of course, he's not all tang and salt. He's got a sweet side that rouses in a protectiveness over MC. He's possessive, sure, and he's marked his claim with the oil stains on MC's work apron, but he's got an ooey-gooey center of sweetness that MC occasionally finds when he blushes at a stray touch or a nice comment about him.

Calmo 91, otherwise just called Calmo, is a robot. Constructed in the 90s with a box TV screen head to match, he has bright yellow optics in the screen face along with thick wires falling behind his head in a ponytail-like fashion. He is cool and difficult to read but wickedly intelligent and learning much about humans and affections. His body is a thin endoskeleton with plastic matt gray coverings that give peeks of blue, red, and yellow wires at his metallic joints. He's got a mysterious past the MC is attempting to unravel that he truly wishes the MC would leave be. He's got much to learn about technology but he quickly figures out how to connect to the MC's phone for texting, phone calls, and other useful things of course, like keeping tags on where MC is and monitoring MC's heart rate. Useful tools. Modern technology. Living in the MC's house, he gets to spend more domestic time with the human he decided is kind and generous, but the MC occasionally finds him at the foot of the bed in the darkness, his yellow optics strangely switched to red until the MC says his name and his optics revert back to yellow again.

[cinnamon-flame]

Pigeon studies

Okay so long story short, my love for pigeons reignited over the last few days and I drew only pigeons for like a week to the concern of everybody who saw me enter that state of mind.

The first three are drawn based few different pigeon shots I found, the two after that are referenced from my weirdly pixelated vacation pics and the last one is so high quality because my bestie @wilczuuu let me use one of their gorgeous photos for reference.

Also just for fun I filmed the last one as a timelapse to see that that would look like

I struggle a lot with bird anatomy and while these drawing made me get a firmer grip on that, I'm still super confused about that. So if anyone has some experience with drawing birds and would like to share some tips I would be very thankful.

[giantratbf]

i was asked for a glitter tutorial a couple of times so here it is <3 (i work in krita btw)

if i had to break it down step-by-step:

apply regular shading

add the glitter texture. i do it by turning the scatter feature on

3. add color with a gradient map

4. add reflected light. i usually go with blue because it's a good fit for my over-all very pink palettes

5. and in general: look at reference. glitter looks and feels very unreal and magical but it all exists irl and has been documented in all shapes, materials and lighting

1 2 3 4

that's all thank u <33

[peepdraws]

○o .FRIENDSHIP.。o○

I really liked Elliott and Leah's friendship in the game. Having a writer and an artist friend makes for some crazy inside jokes and hilarity.

I do wonder why Elliott stops hanging with her after the farmer reaches +6 hearts with her. It makes me sad, he doesn't really have any other friends.

What do you think?

[ratsinspats]

alright. it’s been seven years, but it’s finally time to explain a bit of the Paisley Lore™ now that i’ve made a comic about him, aka infodumping about this guy that used to be a one-note “what if i was a rat from hazbined hotel :D” self insert and now is. pretty much just an oc i project onto in some ways that vaguely resembles a sona i’d make.

there’s a lot, so i’ll break it into sections. if you’re just interested in the context of the comic rather than the entire full-length backstory, you can skip the first section. tl;dr for it, he hosted a game show in hell that got picked up by voxtek, and vox hired him to work for the company when it got cancelled under the condition that he wouldn’t appear on television again. the second part is probably worth reading for context regardless, but the third part explains the actual comic itself.

1. Sometime after Paisley arrived in Hell, he befriended a ring-tailed lemur demon named Bev (short for Beverly, but she barely goes by that in casual settings). I’ll spare the details of their entire friendship for now, but Bev ended up encouraging him to make something of himself, which he initially kind of dismissed, but he ended up realizing he did always want to host his own game show, and with his affinity for public-access television, he decided he would just secure a spot there. Little did he know at the time, Beverly (who was initially heavily involved in more technical aspects of the show having more experience with film and media but was also sometimes a contestant) had certain connections and partially led to the show taking off more than he anticipated, which he ended up embracing because he enjoyed the idea of being a source of entertainment in Hell.

Eventually, Bev was able to get the show picked up by VoxTek’s networks through some of her Mysterious Beverly Methods™, which was pretty much an absolute dream for Paisley as he enjoyed a lot of the company’s shows and Vox’s own entertaining presence (though it’s unclear how much of it is him simply not being immune to propaganda). However, their relationship on a personal level wasn’t ideal at this point, but by the time they ended up falling out, the show was out of Bev’s control and she couldn’t and didn’t really want do much to hinder Paisley’s success, as both of them wanted her pretty much out of the picture and she wasn’t obligated to stay on the show by any binding contracts, having primarily presented anything related to work contracts or creative rights or anything along those lines as something Paisley needed to figure out with the company without her rather than a package deal, taking a back seat when she felt so inclined before drifting away entirely.

At that point, a lot of Bev’s previous obligations could go to Paisley’s diffident hummingbird assistant Cedilla, but Paisley found that he missed some of the similar writing enthusiasm and connection he used to have while working with Bev, wanting nothing to do with her herself at that point but finding himself wishing he could just have that energy back, especially as things seemed to only ever get worse and more pressure was put on him to be consistently on top of things and he began to wonder just how much Bev was actually responsible for taking care of. All of these factors were a huge blow to his confidence and ability to function, and the show ended up being cancelled entirely after The Incident, the less-than-ideal final episode that finally showed just how vulnerable and shaky Paisley actually was at this point...

2. By what felt like yet another miracle and something out of a weird grandiose fantasy, Vox offered Paisley a job at VoxTek! Of course, it made sense at this point; the game show was successful for what it was, Paisley clearly seemed to have some creative talent outside of that performance, and he still had a name to himself to slap onto things, even if at this point he felt like sometimes it slapped him back. The only condition was that he couldn’t actually act or perform in anything he worked on in the future. It was devastating for Paisley (after all, the performance aspect was the main reason why he enjoyed working on the game show and wanted to start it in the first place), but he agreed that it was for the best, as the longer he was off the air and disillusioned with the show and its fans, the more he started to question whether anyone actually liked it genuinely or whether they saw Paisley himself as the joke the entire time with no real respect for him.

The evidence that piled up now only seemed to support the idea that, at least now, his reputation from the show was more of the latter. That, and even outside of Bev, he had his fair share of enemies in Hell, even if some them were over petty things. This combined with his paranoia made him feel as if he was constantly being targeted, and every time the idea that he is was enforced by someone following him or antagonizing him or seeming way too interested in him or any other...trolling, for lack of a better term, his fear only increased and he felt the constant urge to have SOMETHING going on for him or somehow protecting him so he wasn’t just openly targeted.

3. Unfortunately, it also made him feel like he couldn’t ever escape or leave his current job. This part’s a little more open-ended because I have a few different routes I’m interested in going down from that point, especially as I consider the possibility of writing/roleplaying Paisley with other characters from the show and not having much more after that be ‘canon’ to how I consistently write him.

However, one of the ways I like exploring writing Paisley IS through getting a job at VoxTek. Vox’s entire brand revolves around selling the idea of trust and safety, something Paisley is absolutely desperate for the promise of, and he finds it in the worst way possible, mentally treating the job as if it’s the only thing keeping his life from falling apart more than it already has and boldly assuming that somewhere very deep down Vox and his company do have some sort of personal affinity for him. Probably not a wise assumption, but he’s not exactly in a wise state of mind, so he clings to the job like it can actually somehow save him from everything...not really being able to be as consistent as he wanted to with his work due to his shattered confidence, fluctuating mental health, skillset not transferring as well as he’d want it to, issues with being social at all after everything that’s happened and loneliness, a seemingly endless list of factors that made him painfully aware he’s not an ideal employee for his own merits.

So, of course, when he can find a way to feel completely relevant to the company again, he’ll use it to his advantage at the very first hint of danger or job insecurity. This comic takes place in a scenario where he’s found a way to gain access to sensitive company information he probably shouldn’t have access to and decides to exploit that fact when Vox confronts him about his role at the company and declining work quality. It’s a perfect way to buy time in his mind. Until Vox can figure out what exactly he’s done with this information, the best option is to keep him safe and essentially leave him alone about work; with the unhinged ‘fans’ he has that can and will go digging through his stuff even if he’s out of the picture and keeping his current job being enough to make him functionally cooperative…and in the meantime, he’ll come up with something to actually prove that he’s actually worth keeping around and not causing more problems than he’s worth and jumping from one ridiculous reason he should be there to the next, right? …Right?

He knows the more he presents himself as more clever and capable than he feels like he can consistently keep up, the deeper he’s digging himself into a hole, but he feels like he can’t stop. He feels like, at this point, it’s the only other choice he has. Like he’ll either face the job he hates and barely manages his way through with the constant fear of being found out and doubt that he’s actually capable of anything he tries to do, or he’ll throw himself to the wolves and go back to the constant fear that they’ll finally completely tear him apart completely and erase that doubt in the worst way possible.

Rat race indeed.

also, ‘normal’ speech bubbles (black text, white font) under the cut. i can never tell how hard to read funky speech bubble colors are because my eyes are a little weird about needing certain levels of brightness. i should probably also transcribe the text at some point but i am very sleepy and have never done it before and don’t want to try to figure it out now and be very wrong about it

[andromeda3116]

oh there is something good that came out of january:

i got engaged!

[pynkhues]

I hope this doesn't seem like a pressuring ask but I was curious if you were planning to finish like a dogless bone? Under the circumstances it's understandable and within your right to leave the fic incomplete but I was wondering if it was going to be completed. And if you choose to update please update at your leisure, I support you whatever you decide and I know many other readers also support you and want you to be safe.

It doesn't seem pressuring at all, anon! Honestly, I haven't opened the doc since that last round of threats and harrassment on Thursday, which is kind of a bummer, because I suspect that was a part of the intent, especially given I increasingly do think those negative comments on Ungodly Hour were probably from the same cohort of people. I do still plan on finishing it though, and am actually even planning on having a look at it this afternoon, so wish me luck! :-)

[i-mybrunettelady]

I am suffering from Needy Bitch Disease with a comorbidity of I Don't Want to Annoy People w/ OCs disorder

[peaches2217]

So my hyperfixations become official hyperfixations when I begin hoarding/collecting. Accordingly…

The latest hoard is coming along well. 😅

[anxiously-sidequesting]

Not to keep beating dead horses like I so much love to do but I am still completely Flabbergasted and Astonished at how you (Merle Ambrose) could discover the most terrifying fact that a child that is essentially under your care has been indoctrinated into a cult (which, by the way, a process that has taken over the course of years) ((by an agent that has been stationed in a direct position to make it easier to access and manipulate children, that has easily escaped your notice for such a long time)) that worships a nihilistic entity whose ultimate goal is the absolute and total destruction of Everything and Everyone around you, and your one, single, simple-sentenced response to that is to say "Oh, that's a shame. He (Duncan) always was pretty terrible. Hope he gets better someday." And then to move on from those extremely worrying and dangerous bundle of issues permanently without taking any sort of action to protect the vulnerable and make sure nothing like this ever happens again

[carouselunique]

Is it true that there's no animosity between you and... you know, you know who. You never talk about her in any way. I guess I'm curious. You guys seemed like really close friends and then just weren't friends at all. And there was some stuff she said that seemed very targeted at you...

I don't know if she feels any animosity toward me or not any more. Our mutual friends have said she doesn't and I take them on their word in that regard, assuming that if they have an answer for me it's because they're aware how she feels. I wouldn't know and it's not my place to put words in her mouth.

I haven't spoken to her/about her in a long time and the only time she even crosses my mind is when people bring her up to me. As for me feeling any animosity? I'll admit my feelings on her these days are complicated and way too nuance-core for people who aren't my friends to hear about but I wouldn't call them animosity in any way. I inherently want people my friends care about to live well because I care about my friends, and anyone my friends care about by proxy and I still share friends with her. I would never wish ill on people my friends care about so animosity doesn't fit into that by definition. I'd say I'm hurt more than anything and even then I've worked through a lot of it with trusted friends who have helped me deal with my emotions in a healthy way.

(Besides, my own life struggles keep me from even being able to invest time into animosity. I have to expend that energy loving my family, doing my best to support them during our struggles. And I've never been a hateful person it isn't in me. I would rather play 'Hot To Go' by Chappell Roan and teach my dad how to do the hand gestures to help him strengthen his muscles again than focus on hating anyone...)

I try not to think about her because it hurts. I often think that people forget that I'm a real person outside of her sphere, and that I wouldn't want to talk about what happened because I truly did consider her a friend for a long time. And when someone I consider a friend appears to not regard me with care any more suddenly and I don't even have closure on that... well... it hurts... A lot. Of course I never talk about it.

And I'm not stupid, I have seen some stuff she's said that I've gathered was about me. I remind myself that she has a right to vent in her own spaces and I truly mean that... it's just a shame that her own spaces have people who then have taken these things to me to show me (after all, I wouldn't have even seen these things myself if not for third-party anons going 'this u?') saying it is my own fault because I was a terribly cruel friend or my own fault for not listening to warnings about her when I had the chance and that makes me a stupid gullible bitch. You lot haven't seen some of the awful shit about me from some of her more ravenous fans and haters I've seen over the years that I've had to let roll off my back in the fear it would bring backlash - not even to me, to her. I don't want to be the cause of any hatred going to anyone.

Also I'm just not going to ever talk about the details of our fallen friendship or our fallen relationship. That's private. She might be a public person to some extent but I never was, even if I do gain some measure of small fandom for my work one day I'm just private about personal matters especially raw ones. I almost deleted this ask entirely but Idk I never stated that it bothers me when people talk to me about her from my own mouth, so I guess that's what this ramble is.

If you send me anything about Lily Orchard it will not be addressed. I am not a part of her life not even through our mutual friends. I do not know or care what's going on with her public/personal life. I haven't kept up. I will never keep up. Don't treat me as an extension of the situation because I am not in the situation. In the most plainly stated sense of the word: Leave me the Hell alone. (...pretty please.)

All I've wanted this entire time was to be left alone to process everything in a healthy, peaceful way. I'm workin' on it.

[puppppppppy]

I CANT USE CSS ON ARTFIGHT...............

[binbogummy]

Humans are —

Chapter 3

This fic is fairly mundane so far, but things pick up just s bit in the next chapter. As much as a sickfic can pick up, I suppose.

Some tags: Reader-insert | Female-reader | Platonic x reader | Fluff | Sickfic | Post-Seaon 1, Pre-Season 2

Words: 3k+

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |

~

The morning came gently and with it, the roaring sound of last night's downpour had been replaced by the softer tapping of raindrops against the windowpane.

Your eyes had just barely opened, but the muted gray light of the overcast sky peeked weakly through the undrawn curtains, and you could already imagine the damp chill of the world outside, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth enveloping you now.

You rolled over with a sleepy hum and noticed that your phone, keys and a few neatly folded bills were setting on the nightstand. It was the contents of your pant pockets you'd forgotten to empty before undressing last night; placed there with care by Aziraphale no doubt.

The fancy glass bottle he'd brought had also been refilled. You'd nearly emptied it last night after waking up rather thirsty once or twice, but it was once again full to the stopper. A doily had also been placed underneath it to catch the condensation growing on the sides as well as a coaster under your glass.

As you finally shifted to sit up, the ache in your head made itself known, along with the stuffiness now completely blocking your nose. And you couldn't help but groan, accepting that the cold you'd brushed off last night had fully settled in.

Plucking a tissue from the box on the nightstand, you were prepared to make an effort to relieve the pressure in your sinuses, only for a soft knock to rap against the door.

“Good morning, my dear,” Aziraphale’s voice sounded carefully through the wood, hoping to alert you to his presence if you were awake but stay quiet enough to not disturb you if you weren't. "Are you awake?"

You almost responded but felt the slight resistance in your throat and clammed up immediately. You knew for sure your voice would betray your condition immediately.

While you didn't have much of a game plan, you were relatively desperate not to let Aziraphale know that you really were sick now. The still clean tissue in your hands was quickly crumbled and tossed in the trash to hide the evidence, and you resolved to keep quiet. If you didn’t speak, maybe he wouldn’t notice.

Aziraphale’s knock came again, this time accompanied by the silent creak of the door opening slightly. His head peeked around the edge, expression tempered by cautious concern until he saw you sitting up in bed and smiled brightly.

In your mind, you felt caught like a deer in the headlights.

"Ah, you are awake! Very good." He nodded, his head disappearing back behind the door for a moment before letting himself in the rest of the way.

He was practically glowing. Humming a happy tune as he carried along a wooden tray table inside with him. Atop it sat a plate, covered securely by a silver cloche, as well as a small ornate tea tray at the side, complete with two cups, a flowery teapot and the servers for sugar and cream respectively.

You were a bit doe-eyed at the sight but were far too distracted with the thought of giving away your condition to give it much thought.

His happy humming continued, even beaming proudly for a moment when he saw you staring, unaware you were practically staring through him, as he set everything down on a nearby dresser.

"How are we feeling?" He asked, a flicker of anticipation passing over his features as he arranged a few things on the tray. "Still a bit out of sorts?"

Not quite thinking, you shook your head vehemently.

He hadn't been looking in your direction, though, and turned to you with a hum when you seemingly didn't respond.

"Hm?"

With his eyes on you now, you shook your head again with what you hoped was a convincing display of casualness this time.

"Ah, that's good. Quite good. What did I tell you? The wonders of a good night's rest!" He seemed to almost sigh in relief, his smile returning as he lifted the little tea tray from the larger tray table and closed the distance to place it on your bedside table. "I thought you might enjoy a bit of tea to start the day?" The question was likely intended to be rhetorical, but when you only continued to glance about doe-eyed, you saw his expression shift expectantly.

So you nodded quickly, overcompensating with enthusiasm in an attempt to reassure him.

Luckily, he seemed to brush off the strangeness of your silence once again with an agreeing hum and began to set everything carefully in its place, his movements always precise and practiced as he poured the steaming liquid and added just the right amount of milk and sugar before stirring it with a soft clink of the spoon.

After that, the gentle clink of porcelain was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

Your head felt like it was filled with cement and your body ached just sitting up, but so far so good, you guessed.

For a little while, as he prepared each of you a cup of tea, the two of you sat in the quiet that Aziraphale had usually found peaceful, but as you continued to avoid offering him so much as a, 'Morning, Azi!', he fidgeted slightly, smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles in his waistcoat between each action as if looking for something else to say.

But he forced his movements to remain calm and methodical, and was sure to unfurrow his brow before turning to you with the lovingly prepared beverage.

"Here we are~ Just the way you like it." He assured sweetly, his full smile returning as he was sure to earn your signature and always grateful little 'thank you!'

But when he passed you the tea, you reached for it silently, gripping the saucer with both hands and only an acknowledging smile.

His brow didn't remain unfurrowed for long.

You, on the other hand, smiled a bit more genuinely as you lifted the china cup to your lips, taking a comforting sip and sighing quietly at the way the warm beverage offered a bit of relief to the pressure in your sinuses.

Your enjoyment, though, could only last a few seconds before you felt his gaze lingering on you and you dreaded the worst.

You dared not look up, keeping your eyes on your tea as Aziraphale tilted his head slightly, giving you something akin to a stern, expectant pout; like a parent waiting for their child to admit guilt.

Setting his own untouched tea back on the nightstand, the angel was sure now that something was amiss, and his mind began to race through the possibilities.

Until...

"You're cross with me, aren't you?"

You froze mid-sip and finally looked up at him, cocking a brow in confusion with a barely audible, "...hm?"

"Oh, you are cross with me. I knew it!" He reiterated, throwing his arms up slightly as he began fretting in place.

Your eyes widened in alarm when you finally realized that he'd completely misinterpreted your silence. You opened your mouth to reassure him, but the thought of speaking and revealing your stuffy voice made you hesitate. Instead, you waved a hand frantically, shaking your head again to indicate that nothing was wrong.

"No, no, you must be," Aziraphale continued, his voice tinged with regret. "Oh, I've overstepped, haven't I? I've been far too meddlesome? I do tend to get carried away with my... fussing. Oh, I'm a fusser!" He winced at the word, as if yours and Crowley's teasing had finally gotten under his skin.

You kept shaking your head, mouthing the word, "No," and motioning for him to slow down but the angel was already beginning to ramble.

The earnestness of his guilt made you feel awful. You wanted to reassure him, but the more he spoke, the harder it became to find the right way to communicate without using words. So instead, you quickly set your tea aside and reached out to place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering your best reassuring smile.

Aziraphale paused, his lips parting slightly as he stared at your hand, then back at your face. "Oh- oh... are you... not cross with me?" he asked, his voice now soft and hopeful.

You shook your head emphatically, your expression earnest. No, you were in no way "cross" with him.

His face softened immediately, relief washing over his features as his shoulders sagged just a touch. "Oh, my dear..." he murmured, his hand lightly covering yours where it rested on his arm with a sigh of relief. "You've no idea how much better that makes me feel."

You smiled and nodded gently, but before you could relax entirely his brows knitted together again, this time out of curiosity.

"Then... whatever's the matter?" he asked, leaning in to get a better look at you. "You've been so quiet this morning. It's not like you at all." he added, a new note of concern creeping into his voice. "Are you sure you're feeling quite yourself?"

Of all the moments you could have hesitated, this was the worst and your hand slid off his arms as soon as you noticed that he'd noticed the small pause in your expression.

You gave an awkward thumbs-up and kept your lips sealed in a tight smile.

Despite what the bulk of this morning so far would lead one to believe, Aziraphale was quite observant, and his gaze quickly flicked to the tissue box on the nightstand, then back to your face. The flush in your cheeks, the slight weariness of your eyes, the way you sniffled ever so softly; it all seemed to click into place.

The angel's expression hardened, “You do look a bit peaky," he muttered. "Come now, let's have a look."

Your eyes widened in horror as a gentle hand was extended to your forehead, and with the kind of speed that made your aching head pound harder, you ducked under the covers to avoid it.

Aziraphale blinked in startled surprise as you disappeared beneath the covers, clutching them tightly around youself like some kind of shield. His hand hovered in the air for a moment, then slowly dropped with a sigh.

"Really now, hiding under the covers?" He chided, "I promise, I'm only trying to help," he coaxed gently, his voice adopting the soothing tone someone might use with a frightened animal.

You shook your head, your voice muffled but unmistakably nasally as you spoke without thinking, "I'm fine!"

That was all the confirmation Aziraphale needed.

"Come now, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," he cooed, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight as he sat at the edge of the bed. "It’s perfectly natural for humans to catch colds from time to time. All the more reason for me to help you."

A hand landed atop the blanket over your shoulder, and you felt a pang of guilt. In that moment as you hid under the blankets like it would do any good, you were becoming increasingly aware that your actions were almost as over the top as Aziraphale’s silly mother-hening.

Now you were being unintentionally silly too, borderline childish, immature even, and it was all because you were in the presence of one of the few people you felt safe being 'silly' around.

There was a moment of silence, the kind that suggested Aziraphale was waiting for you to give in. When you didn't after a few seconds, still coming to terms with it all, he sighed dramatically, the sound as theatrical as something that should have come from Crowley.

You finally peeked out from the edge of the blanket, your eyes meeting Aziraphale’s soft gaze. He wasn’t angry, or even exasperated. He looked... fond. Too fond to be looking at you, you thought, and just fond enough to force you to give in. With a sigh, you poked your head out the rest of the way and let the blanket slip down to your shoulders.

"There now," he said warmly, his smile thankful as if you’d just done him the greatest favor. His hand hovered cautiously, giving you the chance to move away before it landed lightly against your forehead and the coolness of his palm felt heavenly against your overheated skin.

"Oh, dear," he murmured after a moment, his brow furrowing in concern. "As expected, you've a fever."

Aziraphale withdrew his hand and you hung your head as a good few seconds of silence stretched between you.

"I knew it!"

Aziraphale's triumphant exclamation was accompanied by a radiant smile, or perhaps it was a self-satisfied smirk, and you cocked your head up immediately in surprise. "I knew it!" he repeated, his voice brimming with pride. "I had my suspicions last night, of course, but I thought to myself, 'No, surely they'll admit it when they're feeling truly under the weather.' And yet, here we are!"

He straightened up with an almost smug little huff, his eyes sparkling with a mix of satisfaction and concern as he regarded you. "It's quite a good thing I insisted you stay the night, or heaven knows what state you'd be in now."

All that remorse from moments ago in regards to his 'fussing' had vanished, replaced by the vindication that he really had made the right decision from the get-go.

You blinked slowly, reminded that despite his good nature, even an angel couldn't resist the allure of a good "I told you so".

But he seemed to remember himself after a moment, coughing into his hand to begin again with more humility as his eyes settled back on you with a soft look of concern, "But that's no matter now." He amended. "What matters now is seeing you well again."

You glanced away as he leaned in closer to examine you once more

"Let's start with your symptoms. You've the fever, of course and you're rather stuffy by the sound of it, as well as harboring some congestion I'd imagine? What else? How's your throat, any soreness?" He interrogated you with earnest concern.

You shook your head softly.

"You're quite sure? You are being honest with me?"

You nodded. It was true. Your throat wasn't sore exactly, but the congestion in your chest and pressure in your head did make talking a bit of a chore.

"I see. Is there anything else? Anything at all?"

"My... head hurts." You admitted. That couldn't be more true. When you glanced too hard in any direction, when you shook or nodded your head, and even when you sat up or laid back down, it felt like your brain made a soft thump into the inside of your skull.

He hummed thoughtfully then gave a serious nod. "I see, well I'm afraid that leaves no room for argument then. You're far too unwell to be gallivanting about. It's clear you need at least another full day, if not more, to recover properly. And I'll see to it, personally, that you stay put."

"Mmmmm...." You pursed your lips and made a chittery groan from your throat in an exaggerated show of disdain at the idea. Aziraphale was a sweetheart. Probably the sweetest person you knew. But to this day you still found kindness, from him or anyone else, hard to accept. Knowing Aziraphale had helped you work on that. The guy was nothing BUT kind after all, stubbornly so to the point where your usual attempt to deflect didn't even work.

At least last night you had the mercy of going to bed, but a full day if not more of being subject to these levels of protective angelic cosseting might actually kill you.

"Really now," Aziraphale began with a half sympathetic, half exasperated look that faded to something soft and coaxing when he met the pleading look in your eyes, "Hmm," He hummed and then smiled kindly, "Do you think you could do me a favor, my dear?"

You narrowed your eyes at him and he let out a little chuckle.

"Since I must insist that you remain where I can keep an eye on you, perhaps you could find it in your heart to enjoy your time here; under my care?"

Dammit... enjoy it? How could you not enjoy it?

You glanced around yourself, at the layers of blankets tucked over you lap, at the quickly cooling tea you'd set aside and then down at the nightgown you were wearing in defeat.

Guilt, that's how. But regardless, you were sure denying him now, while he was giving you that fond, affectionate look would only make you feel guiltier.

So with a single word, even more final than the one you gave last night, you rolled your eyes and gave in. For real this time.

"Fine..." You scoffed but there no no bite behind it at all, only a deep pink rushing to your cheeks as Aziraphale seemed to feel every bit of emotion you didn't dare express outwardly and grabbed your hand to give it a tender squeeze.

"Oh, thank you, dear! I assure you you're in the best of hands." He beamed, "Now then, I'll ensure that you have everything you need for your recovery, but for nowー" He raised his eyebrows playfully and turned to fetch the tray table he'd set aside earleir, returning to your bedside with it in hand, "how about some breakfast to start the day, hm?"

"Azi, no!" You exclaimed with a hopelessly bashful look as he gently set it to straddle your lap and adjusted it just so. "You didn't..."

"Aziraphale, yes!" He countered enthusiastically, once again correctly interpreting your 'distress' as the bashful appreciation that it was. "No tummy troubles I'm assuming? So it'll be important you keep your strength up, and a good breakfast is sure to set the precedent for a good day!

Aziraphale grinned, his excitement palpable as he carefully gripped the handle of the silver cloche and, after waiting a second for dramatic effect, lifted it with a flourish.

On the plate underneath was a big croissant sitting beside a serving of scrambled eggs, topped with a bit of parsley, a few slices of bacon and a small dish of fresh fruit containing strawberries, blackberries, and some orange slices. At the side, there was also a dish of butter and a dish of marmalade, neatly placed for spreading. The presentation was tidy and thoughtful, prepared with care like the kind of thing you'd see served at a fancy Cafe.

"Voilà," Aziraphale said with pride, gesturing to the tray as though he'd just successfully pulled off one of his magic tricks. "A proper breakfast; made with love, of course. Nothing too heavy, just enough to lift your spirits and nourish the body."

"Oh, Aziraphale, this is..." You began in awe, about to insist that it was too much, that he didn't have to do all of this, when a small, 'ahem', from the angel cut you off. You looked up and met his smile. It was soft but expectant.

"If I recall, we did just agree to let ourselves enjoy our time here? Did we not?"

So you took a small breath and smiled, you really smiled, and then continued differently.

"Perfect. It's perfect. Thank you, Aziraphale."

"Think nothing of it, my dear! I assure you. Seeing to your well-being is an absolute pleasure." He reached for the teapot and refilled your cup, adding a bit more cream and sugar before placing it on your the tray table as well. "Now, eat up while it's still warm. And don't hesitate to ask if you'd like anything else. I'll be happy to oblige."

You hummed happily and began to dig in.

You couldn't help the small hum of appreciation that escaped you after a few bites and Aziraphale beamed from his place beside you, picking up his own cup of tea and taking a seat at your bedside. For a few minutes, you ate and he sipped his tea with an air of quiet contentment, reading the morning paper he'd brought up with him and silently emoting to whatever it said.

You glanced at him between bites, noting that he didn't appear to have brought anything up for himself. He seemed content just to sit with you as you ate, but you couldn't shake the question that had popped into the back of your mind.

"You're not eating?" you asked softly, your voice still a little hoarse but warm with curiosity. Food was one of his favorite earthly things after all.

Aziraphale blinked, startled out of his thoughts, and turned his attention to you. His expression softened immediately. "Oh, my dear, I've already had breakfast," he explained, setting his teacup down on the bedside table with a delicate clink. "This morning was a bit of toast with marmalade and some tea. Quite scrumptious." He mused joyfully. "I made a point of having it quite early, you see. Knowing you might still be unwell, I rather wanted to focus on making sure you had the best morning possible!"

"Aww, Azi...that's so sweet."

"But worry not!" he added quickly. "I’ll have plenty of chances to join you for meals yet. Lunch, of course, followed by afternoon tea, then dinner. And with you bit more settled, breakfast tomorrow morning as well. And I’m quite looking forward to <i>all</i> of it, if I do say so myself~ On top of that it's–" his face scrunched a bit in thought, "what day is it, my dear?"

"Thursday." You answered with a sip of your tea.

"Ah, yes! Thursday! The shop's closed on Thursdays– or wait, perhaps that was mondays?" He seemed to think again but waved the details off with a flutter of his hand and a smile, "Doesn't matter! What I do mean to say, is that for the rest of the day you'll have my undivided attention!"

[melaschnie]

reading goals habits for 2025

this is along the same lines as @the---hermit 's post about not setting reading goals for the next year. because my life has gotten so much busier since starting my new job, i simply do not have the time anymore to regularly read a book per week. at least not if i also want to have a social life and get some rest.

so, in 2025 i will not set myself a number of books i want to read. instead what i do want to do is establishing some new habits related to books and reading and keeping in mind things i've already established this year.

not borrowing more than two books at a time from the library. i know, sometimes it can be hard especially when several holds become available at the same time. and up until this summer that was never a problem for me. but now i want to make sure i don't put more pressure on myself by having several books sitting there with a countdown, i'd rather push the hold back another week or two and actually take the time i want to with the book.

brought on by a recent storygraph update: don't try to power through the rest of a book just to make it in time for a loan to expire. there is a pause feature now, it will not mess with the stats, and the next time the loan will be available i can take my time with it again.

similarly, i want to keep up what i've already done quite well this year. if i don't vibe with a book, i dnf it. nobody cares. i don't have to spend time on it that could be spend on more enjoyable books, no matter how many other people loved the book or how interesting it initially sounded.

according to storygraph, which should be up to date, i currently own 55 books that i haven't read yet. i would very much love it, if that number either stayed the same or went down by the end of the year. but since i can't account for books that future-me will inevitably buy, i'd at least like to see if i'm in the mood for one of those books before browsing my libby tags for something that's currently available just to end up with several new holds.

lastly, i have a maybe. something that i want to try out, see if it works for me right now. i never was someone who wrote reviews for books but i've been getting into the habit of answering the review questions on storygraph including trigger warnings and themes, and i thought why not try and put my thoughts into a somewhat coherent form as well? written reviews are something i often consult when looking at a book, so maybe something i write will be helpful for someone else, who knows! maybe this will even help me remember books better - we all know that my brain is a sieve, so perhaps taking a few minutes to sort through my thoughts will help with that lmao.

that's it, that's the plan. the post already looks a lot longer than i expected it to be, sorry about that, but we're talking books/reading here so i could happily go on a few more tangents!

what, you thought i was actually done? um, so... usually, i'd be doing a 25 for 2025 post but that is such a big number so i couldn't stop myself from doing seven books i'd like to prioritise in 2025 instead (my favourite number :) ):

ace by a. chen

fire becomes her by r. thor

common bonds* by c.t. callahan, b.r. sanders, r. sylver, and c. arseneault

shit cassandra saw by g.e. kirby

the book thief by m. zusak

grimms märchen by the brothers grimm

a speculative fiction book (perhapss an anthology) that i haven't decided on yet

if you made it all the way down here, wow, impressive, thank you for listening to me essentially talking to myself. happy reading! <3

[residentialsinyomakai]

Should I make. Like. A masterpost (when I have the time) of any active yokai watch gimmick/ask blogs I know of? Cause if anyone would wanna see that I'd be down!!