#it started out as a practice of drawing isaac but then i was like.. what if...

[cowgurrrl]

Okayyy bear with me, this for our OFTM! What about a celeb who meets actress!reader at some awards or something or they’ve worked together and the pictures turn out so gorgeous and he uploads it with some cheesy lovey dovey caption and it kinda sets Joel off with jealousy and a bigggg green eyed monster. It doesn’t help that Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah start pulling his leg in their fam group chat saying oh wow look at mom with him or something and y’know tommy would pull his leg more to get a reaction out of Joel. And Joel is just alternating between fighting for his life in the chat and fighting for his wife with actress!reader and just comedy and fluffiness????

(also I have one more inspo that I dreamt of sending you in the next one)

OOOOOHHHH LOVE THIS I haven’t played around with jealous joel in SUCH A LONG TIME also I know you weren’t necessary referring them but I immediately thought of Jessica Chastain and Oscar Isaac because I MEAN

ANYWAYS HERE WE GO

Wildflower & Barley

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: this ask

Warnings: ✨multi-media✨, jealousy, life stuff, literally just them being the sweetest couple

You sigh as you read the text. Joel is normally very comfortable in your relationship, unshaken by the various actors and actresses who’ve played your love interests and partners on screen. He shrugs off silly press comments, sits through love scenes remarkably well, and even goes as far as congratulating your costar on a job well done. “Not that it’s hard to pretend to be in love with her,” he said when asked about it in a red carpet interview a few years ago. But, once in a blue moon, he gets jealous and a little insecure. You figure Spencer’s post didn’t help with the little green monster sitting on his shoulder the past few months. 

With all your littles in school now, you’re extremely busy. You’re constantly running around from baseball practices, PTA meetings, recitals, doctor’s appointments, birthday parties, and more. Not to mention making time for all the Miller-Hernandez-Caradonna-Pierce grandkids, Isaac, Cecilia, and JJ. Joel’s working on a new album and getting his record label up and running while you’re not only directing and co-producing a smaller film while acting in a different one and getting ready to go on a (limited) press tour. You and Joel haven’t had the most time to catch up, and it feels like you’re passing ships. It’s temporary. You know it is, but it doesn’t feel good to see your costars more than you get to see your husband. You’re almost positive Joel’s jealousy stems from that. 

“Hey, you ready to get back to it?” Your co-producer, Ava, asks, jolting you out of your thoughts, and you nod. 

“Let’s do it.” You say as you tuck your phone into your back pocket. The day goes relatively smoothly with only one broken prop and an impromptu refresher session with one of your actors and the armorer. You make it a point to end the day early so you can get home and talk to Joel before one of you can fall asleep on the couch (a bad habit you’ve both developed recently), and thank god you did. 

The second you open the door, you can smell the delicious dinner Joel is making in the kitchen and hear the music he’s blasting through the Alexa. “Mom!” Sammy yells as he and the girls run over in a flurry of overlapping stories and demands for hugs and kisses. Even though Sam is nine now and on the cusp of thinking he’s too cool for his parents, he’s still your little love bug. 

“Mommy, will you come draw with me?” Violet asks and you smile as you tuck a curl behind her ear.

“Of course, baby. Can I go say hi to Daddy first?” 

“Fine but hurry!” Violet whines, making you laugh. You hang up your purse by the front door and toe off your shoes, already feeling better with your heels off, and pad into the kitchen. Joel is wearing the apron you got him for Christmas last year that says “Caution: Hot Dad” and made the older girls groan in embarrassment. You laugh when you see it on him, and he quickly turns down the Bee Gees to hear you. 

“You’re home early.” He says as he leans down to peck your lips and wrap an arm around your waist. You chase his lips and kiss him again before pulling away to look at him.

“Wanted to catch you before bedtime,” you say, and he hums. “Plus, we’re making good time on production. We can afford to cut a little early.”

“Well, I‘m glad you did.” He says. You can hear the kids in the other room playing loudly and you know Violet is gonna burst in any moment and order you to draw with her so you savor the semi-private moment with him.

“Are we okay?” You ask quietly and he takes a deep breath. 

“We’re okay.” 

“It’s okay if we’re not.” 

“Baby,” he soothes, slipping a hand in your back pocket. “We’re okay, I promise. I just… had a moment.” 

“It’s fine to have a moment. I don’t want you to keep that from me just because we’re busy,” you say. “You don’t actually think I’d trade you in for someone else or whatever the fuck Tommy said, right?” He sighs and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Just… please tell me this isn’t like a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing.” He says. You would laugh if he didn’t seem as upset as he does just because of how bizarre the idea is. How could anyone ever compare to him? How could he even think that you’d leave him like that?

“This isn’t a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing. Not even close to it. Spencer has been married to his wife longer than we’ve been married and they’re solid. I promise, he just posted that to get people excited about the movie.”

“You’re not wearing your ring in the picture.” He says. You pull the chain hiding under your collar out and show him.

“I was. You just couldn’t see it.” 

“How long have you had that?” 

“Since we got engaged. You’ve definitely seen it before.” You say, laughing a little at the surprised look on his face. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that’s why you wore it. I thought you got it as a wrap gift or somethin’.” He defends. It makes sense why he wouldn’t know. You only take the necklace off when it can’t be hidden under the costume, and even then, it’s normally tucked into your pocket or, at the very least, hidden safely in your trailer. It’s a part of your routine to put your ring back on at the end of a shooting day or between breaks to help you transition back into your real life, which means Joel only sees it after it’s returned to its rightful spot. Even the few times he’s been on set filming something with you, you’ve been so busy that he didn’t have time to notice it. 

“Good to know I can still surprise you all these years later,” you say. He only looks a little embarrassed when he reaches around you to turn off the stove. The kids are, thankfully, still occupied, and you take the opportunity before it can slip away. “Joel, I adore you. I am still as helplessly in love with you as I was when we were in New York for the first time. There isn’t anybody else for me, okay? It’s you. It’s always gonna be you. So you don’t need to worry about costars or living Brangelina or whatever because you are it for me.” He works at his jaw as he processes your words, and you wait. Joel’s mind has always been an elusive one, so you like watching his gears turn. 

“Okay,” he mumbles finally. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to tell me when you’re feeling this way,” you say, kissing his jaw. “Besides, if you’d said something earlier, I would’ve been able to tell you that you’re a much better kisser than Spencer.”

“I was just gettin’ over the post, and now I have to watch y’all kiss?!” He groans dramatically, and you laugh. 

“You’re the one who married an actor.” 

“And I’d do it again.” He says as he kisses you, crowding your space so you’re stuck between him and the counter. It’s broken between giggles and kitchen timers beeping but it isn’t until Violet tugs at your shirt do you fully break away from Joel.

“Mommy, you said you would come draw with me.” She pouts, and you immediately drop down to her level.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I did say that. Daddy just had a hard day so I was trying to cheer him up. I can come draw with you now.” You explain, and she gasps, looking between you and Joel.

“Daddy!” She exclaims, putting her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a bad day?” 

“Because it’s not your job to fix Daddy’s day.” 

“But I want to! Can I give you a kiss?”

“I wanna give Daddy a kiss!” Sophia runs in, launching herself into Joel’s arms. He scoops both girls up and kiss his cheeks simultaneously, making you both laugh. 

“Thank you, girls. You always make me feel better.” He says, and they giggle.

“What about Mom?” Sam asks. He’s too big and too tall for you to pick him up anymore, but he snuggles perfectly under your arm and squeezes you tight. 

“You’re so sweet, honey. Thank you.” You say, kissing his head. 

“Are you better now?”

“So much better.” 

“Daddy, are you better?” Violet asks. Joel meets your eyes over the heads of the kids and smiles. It’s sweet and just for you, and you can’t help but smile back. 

“I’m perfect.”

[arcane-vagabond]

Hanging By a Moment: Chapter One

Hanging By a Moment: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Taking place directly after the events of "Don't Hang'em Til Noon," this series follows more of Jake and Scout as they traverse life in the New Mexico territories. Isaac Cassidy's gang is still hanging about, stirring up trouble in the name of their fallen leader. Additionally, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and your brother, Benjamin, have established rights to a gold mine that's now drawing in more and more unsavory characters. Will you have what it takes to survive the growing danger?

Content Warning: Mentions of hangings, Swearing, Hangout being domestic, Fluff, Kissing. I think that's it? Please let me know if I've missed anything.

Word Count: 2.65k

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist 1 || Playlist 2

It was the rooster crowing that awoke you, or perhaps it was the tendrils of sunlight that crept through the curtains to caress your cheeks. Either way, consciousness had now made its presence known and once you were up, you were up. With a groan, you stretched your legs out, relishing in the tender feeling of the muscles in your lower back ridding themselves of their stiffness and aches.

You let your eyes stay closed, the soft lowing of the cattle out in pasture alerting you to the fact that you would have to get up sooner than you would like as the rest of the world stirred around you. You heard the telltale sound of your brother, Benjamin, moving around in his room, and with a heavy sigh, you finally pried your eyes open, taking in the blue rays of the morning sun as they slowly changed to gold. Flipping the blanket down, you let out a small shudder as the cool air caressed your skin, the last remnants of winter still clinging to the world as spring wormed its way in.

Dressing quickly, you made your way downstairs, starting the stove and preparing breakfast for the ranch hands that would walk through the door at any moment. Things had settled nicely since the incident a month prior with Isaac Cassidy, the looming sense of dread that had often filled you giving way to a tender calm ever since the man had hanged at the gallows in place of Jake. Your heart clenched at the memory that you almost hadn’t made it in time to save him.

The front door opened, the sound of heavy footsteps echoing throughout the house, a small smile playing at your lips at the familiar sound. The sound of humming accompanied the footsteps as they grew louder, and you turned from the pot in front of you just as Jake Seresin, former outlaw turned honest man, rounded the corner. He held a small bouquet of golden flowers, marigolds, in one of his hands, his hat clutched in the other. His green eyes lit up as they landed on you, lips splitting into a giant grin. Tossing his hat onto the table, he crossed the room quickly to wrap you up in his arms, careful not to crush the flowers in his hand as he did so. He gazed down at you, cupping your jaw with his free hand and running his thumb along your bottom lip. Leaning down, he captured your mouth with his in a kiss which you gladly returned. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, and all too soon he pulled away, placing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Good morning, honey girl,” he murmured, offering you the marigolds. “Did you sleep well?”

You hummed, a dazed look on your face as you smiled softly up at him.

“Jake,” you sighed, eyes darting down to the flowers he was holding up for you. Your happy expression morphed quickly into one of suspicion as you glanced from the flowers to him. “Are those my marigolds that I’ve been waiting all week to bloom?”

He let out a loud scoff, but the smile was still in his eyes as he turned the scoff back down to you.

“Are you accusing me of stealing?” he teased, leaning in so that your noses were practically touching. You arched an eyebrow at him with an unimpressed frown.

“Answer the question.”

“No, Scout,” he replied, feigning hurt. You waited for him to provide an explanation, scowling when he pulled away to grab a vase from the china hutch by the back door. You watched as he plucked one of the vases from the top shelf, walking over to water bucket to fill it. With a sigh, you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms as you waited for him to give you an answer.

“Jake,” you grumbled, a hint of warning in your tone. The blond hummed, raising his brow at you innocently as he placed the vase of flowers in the center of the table.

“Jake.”

“What’s that, sweet girl?”

“Where did you get the flowers from?” You asked him again, watching as he mirrored your stance against the table. You could see him trying to fight off the smile that threatened to overtake him as he shifted his gaze down to the floor.

“I grabbed’em from Mrs. Wymer’s garden,” he admitted, a blush blooming on his cheeks as he snuck a glance back up at you.

“Jake!” You cried out, eyes growing wide as you gaped at him in disbelief. “You stole that old woman’s flowers right from out of her garden?”

“No!” He exclaimed, pausing as if thinking over his next words. He grimaced and your shoulders slumped as you could already feel the annoyance pass over you. He gave you a sheepish smile. “Well, yes. But it’s not what you think!”

“Oh,” you scowled, rolling your eyes, “please do tell me how it’s not what I think.”

“Well, you see,” he began, his sheepish smile turning devious. He pushed off from the table, sauntering slowly over to where you stood, still scowling at him. “It just so happens that Mrs. Wymer insisted that I take the flowers. Said that she thought I could put them to good use, and so I did just that.”

He stopped back in front of you, a smirk plain as day on his face. You raised an eyebrow at him, the two of you standing in silence as he waited for you to respond.

“You’re a loon,” you mumbled, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he gazed down at you, those green eyes holding so much adoration as they beheld you.

“Only for you,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you once again. You leaned into him, wrapping an arm around his neck as he pulled you closer by the waist, deepening the kiss as his other hand stroked your side.

“Scout have you seen me-”

The two of you sprang apart as Benjamin sauntered into the room. He stopped short as he looked up from buttoning his suit jacket, seeing the position you two were in. He let out a long sigh as he dropped his hands to his sides, giving the both of you a once over and a look of chagrin.

“Must you?” He asked to neither of you in particular.

“Apologies, Benjamin,” Jake snickered, leaning against the counter as you turned your attention back to the pot on the stove. You heard Benjamin scoff as he walked over towards the table, plopping down into one of the many seats surrounding it.

“What was it you were saying, Benji?” You asked him, chancing a glance back at him. He was still scowling, eyes darting between you and the blond at your side. His gaze fixed back on you as he sat up straighter.

“I was asking if you had seen my briefcase,” he said slowly, watching as you scooped a ladle full of oatmeal into a bowl for him. You walked over, placing it gently in front of him as he continued to eye you up and down with an indiscernible expression.

“I’m sure it’s in your study where you left it last night,” you told him, giving him a scowl of your own. “Now stop staring at me. It’s rude.”

He grumbled something under his breath, but turned his attention to his food just as the other ranch hands started filing through the door.

“You better go grab a seat,” you told Jake, grabbing four more bowls from the cupboard. He brushed his hand against yours as he pushed off from the counter to join the others.

You joined them at the table once everyone was served, taking your seat in between Benjamin and Jake, both of whom were nearly finished. Benjamin shoveled the last little bit of his food into his mouth, scrambling to his feet as he glanced up at the clock on the mantle.

“Blast it, the time,” he mumbled, rushing towards the front door. He stopped as he crossed the threshold from the kitchen into the hallway, catching your eye as he did so.

“Scout,” he said, pointing a finger at you, “I’ll see you tonight at the town hall meeting, right? It’s important that you come, and be there by seven.”

“Where’s my invite, Benji?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Benjamin spared him a look, jaw twitching at the mischievous expression on the blond’s face.

“Quite frankly, Mr. Seresin,” your brother said evenly, “I don’t give a damn what you do or say until there’s a ring on my sister’s finger.”

Before Jake could respond, Benjamin turned on his heal and walked out. Seconds later, you all heard the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut, and you let out a sigh. A moment of awkward silence swallowed the room before the other ranch hands thanked you for the meal and made themselves scarce. Jake glanced at you from the corner of his eye as he finished his food.

“He does know we’re practically engaged already, right?” He asked you, shifting slightly in his seat. You snickered, grabbing your bowl and his as you headed towards the sink. Jake’s mischievous look was long gone as he rose to his feet, walking after you. “Scout?”

“Mr. Seresin,” you began, clasping your hands in front of you as you turned to look at him, “unfortunately for you, my brother raises an important matter. Until I receive a proper proposal, I’m afraid your word doesn’t carry very much weight in this house.”

Jake gaped at you, green eyes wide as they took you in.

“Scout-”

You held up your hand to stop him, nearly laughing at the state of him as he stood there in the middle of your kitchen, eyes wide and mouth ajar as he scrambled for something to say. Fighting back a smile, you walked over so that you were standing right in front of him, placing your hands on his chest and gently brushed out the wrinkles in his shirt, peering up at him through your lashes.

“You better get going,” you told him, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. “You have work to do.”

The town hall was filled with the deafening roar of the townsfolk gathered in the assembly hall. It was so crowded, in fact, that you felt immense gratitude towards your past self for thinking to pack your fan in your clutch. You fanned yourself lightly, watching the older women of the community congregate together to discuss town gossip in hushed whispers while their husbands gathered on the opposite side of the room to discuss business. The women your age were gathered in the seats to your left, and you wondered how they kept themselves busy considering that every time you saw them they were gracing the modiste with their presence.

“I heard she stabbed him.”

That caught your attention, and you shifted in your seat subtly to better hear the conversation to your left.

“I heard she lured him into the bedroom and then seduced him before handing him over to the marshal.”

That made you frown. Your actions regarding Isaac Cassidy’s arrest and then subsequent execution had been the talk of the town for a couple of weeks now, and it appeared the rumor mill had run wild. You supposed you would have to do something about that.

“Look at her,” one of the older girls said, and you felt four pairs of eyes land on your profile. You remained stoic, not showing them that you could hear every single word of what they were saying. “She’s a proper lady, you know. From out back east. I doubt she’d be capable of much else other than simple household chores.”

That made you snicker. You attempted to cover it up with a cough, but you were unable to see if your efforts worked because Birdie and Bunny came walking down the aisle towards you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen everyone gathered in one place before,” Birdie said excitedly, taking the seat next to yours on your left. Bunny smiled softly in your direction before sitting on the opposite side of the young schoolteacher, leaning forward so that she could still hear the two of you over the still growing crowd.

“It is a bit exciting, I suppose,” you smiled. You hadn’t been sure about holding the town hall meeting in the actual town hall versus the church. You had raised the concern to your brother early on that the town hall might be too large a space for the people who regularly showed their faces in town.

“Don’t you worry a thing, Scout,” he had grinned, excitement evident on his face. “People are going to come from all over to hear what we have to say. The farmers and ranchers who almost never make it into town are even coming! I’m worried we might not even have enough space for all of them.”

Glancing around, you were beginning to think his worries might be justified. The room was growing more and more crowded as the minutes stretched on.

“You’re coming to the play next week, right?” Birdie asked you. You turned your attention back to her, giving her a nod as you smiled.

“Yes, of course!” You told her. “I wouldn’t miss it!”

“Who could turn down the opportunity to see Bradley up on that stage acting all heroic?” Bunny teased, nudging Birdie good-naturedly. You saw a tinge of pink creep onto her face as you and Bunny giggled. It was no secret that Birdie and the outlaw had feelings for one another, but getting the schoolteacher to admit that was a feat in and of itself.

“A prince and his princess,” you added, earning a rare scowl from the girl beside you.

“I told you already,” she grumbled, “I want to establish myself as an individual first. I have a career to think about.”

“Yes, of course,” you nodded. “I think it’s very noble of you to do so, actually. But that doesn’t mean you can’t play the field while you’re establishing your career.”

Bunny nodded in agreement, and Birdie turned back to you.

“And what of you and Jake Seresin?” She asked, eyes flaring in intrigue. “Any word of an official proposal yet?”

Before you could answer, the group of girls to your left burst into a fit of giggles, grabbing your attention. Their eyes darted to the back of the room, and your gaze followed, instantly connecting with a pair of green eyes that were already on you.

Jake was leaning against the back wall next to the rest of the Daggers, Bradley standing directly to his left as the brunette laughed at something Reuben had said. Jake shot you a wink, and you felt your cheeks instantly warm. Biting back a smile, you turned your attention back ahead of you, fanning yourself a bit faster.

“The boys are here,” you told Bunny and Birdie as nonchalantly as possible. Both of them turned their attention to the back of the room, instantly turning back around to mirror you as you sat with your back straight and staring pointedly ahead at the stage.

“Damn them,” Birdie murmured, her cheeks as red as rubies now. You let out a chuckle, nodding in agreement.

Just then, Maverick, Benjamin, and a third man you had seen in passing at the law firm stepped onto the stage, and the conversations around the room died down as attention turned to the three men standing in front of everyone. Maverick cleared his throat as the last of the chatter stopped, stepping forward to address all who had gathered. He smiled warmly, gaze traveling across the room as he clapped his hands together.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

A/N: Here she is! A Christmas surprise for all of you, even if she is a little late. Friendly reminder that I am redoing my tag lists! If you haven't already entered your username into the new one, please do so!! As always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. You can also find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I post these updates as well!

[babytarttdoodoo]

Jamie’s afraid of making a big deal out of being hurt after everything that happened in season 1 - he doesn’t want everyone to think he’s being a prick again. But then one day either in season 2 or 3 he actually is genuinely hurt badly (the reason is up to you) but doesn’t tell anyone and shows up to practice anyway. It’s bad enough that he collapses on the field and that’s when everyone finds out.

I could have made this so much easier on myself and literally just written the conversation at the end. As it is, I started hating this about a third of the way through.

I hope that's just hyper-criticism of my own work and that this is still an enjoyable request fill.

---

It wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose.

A lack of sleep, a dark hallway, and a half-forgotten set of steps had all converged into a little tumble in the middle of the night. That was all.

A bruised side. A knock on the head. No big deal.

That’s what Jamie had told himself as he’d inspected the damage in the mirror. He would be fine. He could put his kit on at home and wear a beanie to cover up the dark smudge of skin at his temple.

No one would notice. No one needed to know. It would be fine. Hardly the first time he’d pushed through an injury to stay in the game, was it?

He didn’t need to miss training. He didn’t need to turn up at Nelson Road and tell Ted he couldn’t play. Just the thought of trying to do so sent a thrill of unease through Jamie that he wasn’t keen to examine too closely.

So he took some ibuprofen, slowly and stiffly got changed into his Richmond gear, and called a taxi to get himself to the training ground late enough that no one had time to question his appearance.

(Driving was out of the question. He could admit that.)

Roy all but sneered at him when he stumbled in - that wasn’t anything to write home about, though. He caught a few looks from the others and had to wave Dani off on their way out to the pitch but, otherwise, Jamie was able to keep his head down and not draw attention to himself.

Drills were awful. Just stretching out his legs had him biting his tongue against making any pained sounds. When they started lunging, the hot-sick pain in his side necessitated swallowing down bile.

Sprints weren’t the worst, though Isaac definitely noticed he wasn’t starting from a crouch as he normally would. Then Nate had them doing a coordination exercise, hopping sideways and throwing balls between each other.

Lifting his arms was bad enough. Then each hop jolted Jamie’s whole body and made his head throb.

He managed, somehow, but Jamie wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was being slow and clumsy. He was being useless. Fuck.

Panting, sweating, and trying not to throw up, he hovered at the back of the group and prayed no one called him out. No such luck. 

“You alright, mate?” Colin had sidled over while Ted called out their scrimmage teams. He was speaking quietly, which Jamie appreciated, but frowned at him with an unusual level of seriousness. Shit.

“Course I am.” Jamie forced himself to straighten up and smile. It felt wrong on his face. Too many teeth. “Just got a stitch. Didn’t drink enough.”

Colin looked doubtful, like he was about to question him further, but Jamie pushed forward to accept his yellow vest from Beard and positioned himself as far away from the Welshman as he could.

He was careful to stay in the formation they were practising, though. No sense in fucking up training for everyone more than he already had.

Roy hollered “WHISTLE!” from the side of the pitch and everyone lurched into action. Running around wasn’t so bad and Jamie soon lost himself in the game, following the movement of the ball and players with a preternatural instinct, ignoring any pain as the inconvenient distraction it was.

The few times the ball came his way, he took control of it as if by second nature, barely having to tell his feet what to do as he passed to Dani, then to Sam ten minutes later.

He was being a good teammate. He was playing like he was supposed to. And then he heard someone shout his name.

Jamie didn't need to look around to know that the ball would be sailing through the air towards him. He didn't need to deliberate about what to do. He would catch the ball on his chest and send it to Sam again before Richard could make it close enough to tackle. It was the only option to get it in the net.

He didn't need to think about it. He just did it.

And his sore, battered ribs only crossed his mind when he jumped up and twisted mid-air.

The yelp of pain was completely involuntary and Jamie would have been horrendously embarrassed by it if he hadn’t immediately crumpled into a heap on the pitch.

Something had grinded in his torso. It fucking hurt. It felt wrong.

He distantly registered the sound of an actual whistle over the rushing white noise in his ears as he lay gasping on the damp grass. A hand grasped his arm and Jamie realised Richard had skidded to his knees beside him, ball forgotten.

“Jamie? What’s wrong?” More hands were on him, trying to turn him over, but the slight pull sent another wave of sick pain through his side and he keened, curling up further to stave off the harm. “Merde, get the medics.”

“Colin’s already gone.” That was Isaac, a lot closer than he’d been less than five minutes ago, defending the box on the other end of the pitch. “He’ll need a stretcher if we can’t move him ourselves.”

“Fuck.” The notion of needing to be carried out of training brought Jamie back to himself. “I don’t need… Fuck it. I’m fine.”

“No, you are not.” Sam was standing over him as well, Jamie realised as he tried to force himself up to his knees at least. Most of the team were looming around, actually, and Ted broke through their little huddle right as a spike in pain brought up the vomit Jamie had been desperately holding back all morning.

“Hoo boy.” An American accent could really cut through the crowd, apparently, since Jamie had no problem hearing that low exclamation over twenty or so sounds of disgust.

Someone stopped him from pitching forward into his own sick and Jamie finally, limply, accepted help back upright onto his own shaky legs. Ted’s hands were one of the several pairs supporting him and Jamie could feel the humiliation and shame rising up in his gut like another bout of nausea.

“Sorry, coach,” he mumbled, even as he let Isaac put a secure arm around his waist. Sam tried to prop up his other side but Jamie shied away with an apologetic shake of the head. “Ribs. Don’t- Can’t lift me arm right now.”

He silently begged the younger player to understand, to not take it as yet another personal slight. Because Sam Obisanya was a much better person than Jamie would ever be, he only took a firm hold of Jamie’s elbow instead, face belying nothing but concern.

“Okay, folks, let’s give him some room.” Ted shooed gently at everyone not currently vital to keeping Jamie vertical. “You fellas got a good hold of him? We can get a stretcher out here, tout sweet.”

“Don’t want a fucking stretcher. I can walk.” Jamie bit out, choosing not to acknowledge how heavily he was still leaning on Isaac and Sam.

“Well, son, I’m not all too keen on taking your word for that right now.”

Ted’s tone didn’t change at all from the pleasant, practical way he’d just addressed the others. He didn’t raise his voice even a little. Jamie still felt the admonishment like a physical blow and hung his head with a wince.

“We’ve got him,” Sam spoke up. “Treatment room, right?”

They made an awkward threesome, hobbling off the pitch behind Ted and down the tunnel. Colin jogged out to meet them with a medic in tow and (surprise, surprise) Roy peeled off from the other coaches to join the entourage hustling Jamie towards the now-not-haunted medical suite.

Settled uncomfortably on the edge of the reclining bed, with a hovering audience whose eyes he couldn’t meet if he tried, Jamie numbly answered the medic’s questions about his pain level and location. He allowed her to gently remove his hat and examine the bruise underneath, went through the concussion tests without complaint, and was even honest about when he’d last eaten or drank anything.

When she pulled up his shirt, there was more than one sympathetic wince around the room. A quick look down confirmed that the bruise, though still quite small, had deepened in colour since he’d last poked at it and his skin looked oddly swollen around the area.

Even the barest methodical prodding with careful fingers made Jamie flinch and hiss through his teeth. The medic (Jennifer, Jamie vaguely recalled) hummed thoughtfully.

“Two are definitely broken. You’ll need to stay off the pitch for a few weeks, at least.”

The prognosis tightened Jamie’s throat like a hand was clamped around his neck. 

“Weeks? Nah, fuck that,” he choked out. “I were playing fine until I took the chest ball. I can still score.”

“Are you actually thick?” Roy demanded, loud and angry as per usual. There was something wild in his expression as he stepped closer to the bed. “How fucking stupid do you have to be to try and play with broken fucking ribs.”

“Fuck off, you won’t even coach me,” Jamie snarled at him, all attempts at mending bridges forgotten in the wake of pain and frustration. “Don’t act like it matters if I play hurt or not. I’ve done it plenty times before.”

“Alright, alright!” Ted cut in between them before Roy could retort with whatever words had conjured up that twisted, outraged look on his face. Nothing good, Jamie was sure.

“Roy, why don’t you take five, okay? In fact, let’s clear the room. Y’all got things to do, I’ll stick with Jamie while the good doc here gets him set up with what he needs.”

Even with Ted partially blocking his view, Jamie could see Roy was about to argue. Surprisingly, it was Isaac’s hand on his shoulder that seemed to take the wind out of his sails.

“Fuck! Fine!” He shrugged the hand off and pointed damningly at Jamie’s face. “But you’re not putting a toe out on the grass until I say so, you bloody fuckwit.”

With that, Roy stormed out of the room, sending the door bouncing off the wall with the force of his exit. Jamie’s teammates followed much more sedately, all with looks back over their shoulders and quiet murmurs Jamie couldn’t discern.

“Here.” He jumped slightly when maybe-Jennifer reappeared at his side with a bundle of items. “Drink this and take two paracetamol. Hold the ice pack to your side for twenty minutes. If the swelling hasn’t gone down, I’ll send you home with a few extras, okay?”

“Thank you kindly, doc,” Ted answered for him. “I’ll make sure he stays put for a bit.”

“Not a doctor,” she corrected mildly but gave Ted a smile and nod. “I’ll need you to sign an incident report and there’s some insurance paperwork to go through. I’ll go get the ball rolling on that and check in later.”

Jamie didn’t really like the way they were talking around him, rather than to him. He liked the idea of being alone with Ted after having caused a scene and an extra load of work for him even less. Still, he couldn’t think of any reason for the medic to stay and just watched her walk away, gently closing the door in her wake.

“You should probably do as she says,” Ted said softly after a moment of quiet, indicating the bottle of water and packet of tablets. “Doesn’t strike me as the ‘take it or leave it’ kind of advice. Rarely is, from those of the medical persuasion, even if they don’t have a fancy title.”

Moving like he was underwater, braced for the other shoe to drop, Jamie silently went through the motions of taking the painkillers. He tried not to move in any way that would agitate his injury but his hands were still shaking by the time he reached for the ice pack.

“Oh, here, let me…” Ted stepped in closer, his own hands outstretched, and Jamie flinched violently. The sudden jolt caused his abused ribs to make themselves known all over again and a small shout fell from his mouth unbidden.

“Alright, okay, no touching, got that memo, loud and clear,” Ted rambled on while Jamie waited for his vision to clear from the haze of pain. When it did, he noticed his coach frozen in place, hands still hovering in midair and significantly less threatening than moments before.

“Sorry,” he croaked, embarrassment and discomfort robbing his voice. “Didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

“Now, hey, no. That one’s on me.” Ted glanced around and pulled up a chair to sit near Jamie’s knees. “How’s about you get that ice where it needs to be and you and I have a little heart-to-heart, that sound okay?”

Jamie nodded and gingerly wrapped the frozen pouch in the towel provided before applying it to his side. The relief was almost immediate and he felt his shoulders relax from the tense position he hadn’t even registered amongst everything else.

Ted clearly noticed too, since he smiled up at Jamie. There was still a furrow between his eyebrows, though.

“Ain’t it great when stuff helps the way it’s supposed to?” he started and Jamie tried not to let the dread of what was coming show on his face. “You know, when you’re sure that, in theory, something should do you good but you’re not quite bought into the reality yet? It’s a damn good feeling when the bet pays off.

“Course, sometimes it goes the other way. The thing that’s supposed to help you doesn’t do anything at all. Or, hell, it just makes everything worse…”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie blurted out again in a panic. “I weren’t trying to do that. I swear, I know I’m not supposed to mess up training or nothing. I… I…”

“Whoa, whoa, Jamie!” Ted’s smile had dropped clean off his face. “I think we’ve got some wires all muddled up here, somewhere. I’m not fishing for an apology. Matter of fact, I’m kind of wriggling on the end of the hook, myself.”

Jamie really, honestly tried to wrap his head around that one. He failed. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Ted told him firmly. “We all knew something wasn’t right with you out there today and let you play on through anyway. That’s no bueno. If you can’t rely on your coach to help you out when you need it, well, then, that’s not a sign of a very good coach, is it?”

Jamie stared at him, dumbfounded. “But… I didn’t tell you I were hurt.”

“There is that,” Ted agreed easily, nodding and settling back in his chair. “And I’d sure like to hear how you got knocked around so good in the whole twelve hours you were out of our sight. Any particular reason you didn’t share that with the class this morning?”

“I…” The hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack to Jamie’s ribs started picking at the disposable paper sheet on the bed. “I fell. Down the stairs at me house. Last night. I. It didn’t hurt too bad, I thought.”

Ted hummed. “Well, you see? Accident like that, it ain’t anybody’s fault. And you felt okay after?”

The excuse hung there so temptingly that Jamie was almost inclined to think they were back to mind games. He could tell Ted that he’d been sore, but fine, up until he got out on the pitch. But that would be just another lie, wouldn’t it? And all lying had done for him today was drag more and more people into his shit.

So, instead of agreeing like he so desperately wanted to do, he shook his head slowly.

“No, no I weren’t okay.” He swallowed and looked down at his shoes, dangling just shy of the floor. “Couldn’t even drive myself in, could I? But I thought being here and acting normal was better than… better than saying I couldn’t train today. More important.”

“Oh. Now, that’s another thing to chalk up in the ‘no bueno’ category, I’m sorry to say.” Ted’s voice had softened again but Jamie couldn’t bring himself to look up. “Jamie, if you’re hurting, ever, practice or no, I’d really rather you say so. Nothing’s more important than that.”

“Team is,” Jamie objected quietly. “Being here is. I don’t got anywhere to get sent back to now, do I?”

That sullen admission hung in the air. Jamie heard Ted suck in a breath.

“Okay. Alright. Could you do me a favour and try to lift that handsome as all heck face of yours up, just a smidge? I’m getting the feeling eye contact is going to be real important here.”

With very few options of avoidance available to him, Jamie forced himself to meet Ted’s gaze. His expression bore a startling resemblance to Roy’s wild-eyed reaction before, which did nothing to set Jamie’s mind at ease.

“Jamie, when you turned up to practice last season and said you weren’t going to train, I assumed you were mad because I benched you. That sound about right?”

The player nodded, ready for the familiar prickle of shame that clawed through his chest at the memory.

“So you weren’t actually hurt? Or did I get that wrong?”

Jamie shook his head this time, then clarified: “Were being a prick.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Water under the bridge.” Ted scrubbed a hand over his face, looking relieved for some bizarre reason. “Can we agree, though, that there’s a difference between someone pretending to be hurt, for whatever reason, and someone actually being badly injured? That a middle ground we can settle on?”

“Yeah…” Jamie agreed cautiously.

“Outstanding.” Ted took a deep breath. “So, let’s just take a little hop, skip and jump from there to how things might’ve played out a little differently today than they did last year?”

“Oh.” Jamie blinked a few times, processing. Slotting that bit of logic into the missing gaps of the day. “You’re not angry at me for missing training?”

Ted’s face broke back into a genuine, if tired, smile. “No, sir, I am not angry at you for that. Or for any other reason, while we’re on the subject. I am… mighty disappointed that you didn’t feel like you could come to me, or even call when you took your little tumble. But I think maybe we can both agree to do a little better next time, how about that?”

He held out his hand for a shake - his left, in deference to Jamie’s occupied right. That small concession alone was enough for Jamie to wordlessly grasp Ted’s palm with his own in a firm hold.

“Alright. I’ll try.”

“I know, Jamie,” Ted assured him. “That’s all any of us can do.”

[sweetpayaso]

🤡🖤🤍 Laughing Jack: Lore and HCs 🤡🖤🤍

Hello again! This post is sort of a follow-up to the Cake Topper headcanons post. This time, I will be covering keypoints of my version of Jack.

While some things in my version follow canon, a lot of stuff has been altered to give my version of Laughing Jack his own identity.

• Laughing Jack’s origin story ( in my take ) takes place in the mid to late twentieth century, rather than the late nineteenth century.

• The character of Laughing Jack, or as he was originally referred to, Jack ( or Jack the clown ), was actually an image created by Isaac himself, not an otherworldy deity.

• Jack originally did not have a physical form in our reality. He slowly manifested himself, similar to a Tulpa, as Isaac’s mind and personality only grew more vivid. In fact, he didn’t maintain a full physical form until he was completely monochrome and corrupt.

• His colorful form, therefore, was only ever able to be “seen” as drawings, or inside of Isaac’s dreams when they were still close.

• Jack still had his own “Jack In The Box” that he was assigned to. However, it was an average box that Isaac had painted/handcrafted himself. This is what stemmed Isaac’s creative work with carving in his adult years.

• The clown’s “birthday” is celebrated on Christmas Day. No day is more fitting for an initially jovial, colorful clown than the happiest day of the year. This is also because Christmas Eve was the day Isaac first thought up of him.

• The corruption of Laughing Jack started when Isaac grew out of their games, and eventually forgot about him, in favor of horror-based medium. Jack would slowly watch and gain ideas from the movies Isaac would watch, thinking all of them were ok and fun to “perform” in reality.

• Jack actually didn’t earn the full name/alias of “Laughing Jack” until after his first few kills. This is because children would describe him to their parents as “always smiling and giggling” when interacting with the clown.

• Laughing Jack is partially stuffed. The stuffed part of his body is his arms, which is why he is able to grow and stretch them in comparison to other parts.

• He, quite literally, always smiles. He can hold a toothy smile open without ever needing to rest his face.

• He is only able to view things in greyscale. This is due to the loss of color in his eyes. It’s like watching an old movie 24/7.

• His nose does not function like a regular nose. It’s merely for aesthetic purposes.

• He actually hides his candy inside of his stuffed sleeves.

• He is approximately seven feet tall.

• Jack, despite his corruption, is still able to feel emotion to a very minimal degree. It’s incredibly hard to do so, though, and most of it is found through his drive during killing.

• He mostly smells of must and old candy.

• Jack still finds time to practice playing the accordion. It’s his main act as a clown, besides being rusty at it after his abandonment.

• Laughing Jack prefers hard candy over anything chewy.

• Because Isaac was a craftsman, Jack also has a knack for crafting things. Often, he has to repair his own arms, because stuffing falls out of it due to the constant tearing of his sleeves.

[heyrainaro]

TL;DR: I'm about to launch a multimedia literary project inspired by the Spider-Verse animated saga (Sony Pictures Animation).

--

Where to start? Well, how about this: Spider-Man saved my life.

In May, I suffered a great loss. I had never cried so much or felt so much pain before. I was like in airplane mode, going from home to a job I didn't enjoy and from the office to a home that forced me to be alone with myself. I crossed the streets without looking, didn't draw, didn't laugh, didn't eat... but then a very good friend of mine (God bless you, Juan Sebastián) insisted that I NEED to see Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, and there I was, after a work Wednesday, waiting in line at Cinecolombia to see the second part of the Miles Morales’ saga.

And just like that, folks, Spider-Man pulled me out from art block, mental block and life block. Your favorite huesera, the crazy cat lady who no longer has cats, the one who has decided to be a full-time comic artist, has been the CEO of the McDonald’s on Miguel O'Hara's back since June 7th, 2023.

ANYWAY. What the hell is this? A fanfic? A fancomic? The weirdest and most embarrassing Shakira x Y/N self-insert ever written?

Yep.

All of that.

Spider-Verse: ATLAS

A bilingual (SPA/ENG) literary experiment soon to be released on Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Wattpad, Ao3, and even in the suggestion box of 7-Eleven. Truth is, this makes no sense, but I want it to be read even in the WinRAR license agreement. Oh, and it will have an NSFW version (!), but it will be for people willing to pay for it and to not show it to my mom (sorry, amá).

Well, I'm going to continue living in the universe where I'm Oscar Isaac's trophy wife only in theory and not in practice. Oh, and happy Halloween!

[keldjinfae]

WIP Whenever

I was tagged by @dear-massacre... um... a week ago? More? Less? The point is, I was tagged to share a snippet from a WIP, and for the first time this year, I actually have something to share. This is from the first part of what is going to be a stupidly long series that fuses Teen Wolf with Skyrim, Life in a Northern Town. Even just posting this, I'm already reformating parts of it in my head, so that should give an idea of how very much "in-progress" it is:

The village of Falkreath was known for its graveyard. Rather than an actual Hall of the Dead where the deceased citizens of Falkreath Hold were entombed, as was the custom in most parts of Skyrim, they instead joined the ranks of a large, sprawling cemetery. The resident priest of Arkay oversaw their burials and otherwise kept to his nearby home, where he held rites for the god of life and death, and led mourners in services for their departed loved ones.

Outside of the small hold capitol, the cemetery was nearly <i>all</i> that Falkreath was known for. The Pine Forest had legends of its own, and the old magic of the woods was often enough to spur wary travelers past the unassuming road leading to the village in their haste to break through the trees before nightfall. Those who were brave (or avaricious) enough to shrug off superstition and remain found that the villagers had long embraced its reputation, and that death had inevitably settled into their way of life.

From the innkeeper at Dead Man’s Drink to the alchemists selling poultices and poisons at Grave Concoctions, Falkreath’s citizens were well-practiced in attracting the business of the morbidly curious. Just like they were similarly adept at drawing their attention <i>away</i> from the mages who placed the wards on the graves that made sure the dead remained restful, or the men who dug the graves in the first place. Death may have been the village’s tourist trap, but the actual trappings of death were bad for business.

Which meant having to slip out of the house just before dawn and stumbling down to the cemetery, still half-asleep, if Stiles wanted to catch up to Isaac before he was finished. The sounds of his trek across one side of town to the other were exaggerated by the slumbering stillness of the early morning, from the sharp crack of the door's creaking hinges as it closed behind him, to the crunching of grass and dirt beneath his feet, made crisp by the frost that had settled overnight. In less than an hour’s time, the sun would warm the earth just enough to clear away the frost, but a thick fog would rise up in its place, looming over most of the hold like a burial shroud until nearly nightfall.

Stiles moved quickly through the dark without a need for carrying a torch or casting Candlelight, able to find his way as the stars were gradually washed out of the sky. He’d only made it about halfway to his destination before he started to regret not throwing on more clothes despite his haste to leave without waking his father, curling his hands together and blowing into already-stinging fingers to warm them before tucking them under his armpits. He kept his arms folded tightly over his chest as he passed by the beginning of the long, stone wall dividing the cemetery from the rest of the village, and it wasn’t much longer after that he was able to make out the faint, flickering glow of a lantern in the distance.

Isaac Lahey was tall even for a Nord, his head and arms still popping up above the ground every few seconds while he drove a shovel into the frozen earth.

[fluffalpenguin]

@arcvmonth day 24: the manga

oh man oh MAN it's vj day!!!!!

it's pretty funny how all my gifs are mostly yuri-centered huh

Under the cut:

revisiting my review of the manga from last year

Headcanons and fic/comic ideas

rambling about an old WIP

small playlist! (with write-ups!)

First of all, here's the 3,000 words analysis/blog thing I wrote last year when I first finished it.

One and a half years later, I still largely agree with it! There's some headcanons I wrote in there that I completely forgot about, lol, so I'm glad past me posted it somewhere for current me to relieve it again! (The rants were also kind of funny to re-read too)

***

Next, headcanons!

Lately, I found myself wondering about Yuto and Yuri's outfits; specifically-

...Why are they walking around Maiami with dramatic red/black capes?

After some time in the kitchen, I decided that when Yuya was younger, he was really into good versus evil roles when rehearsing his dueltainment lines. And who else better to serve as his practice opponents than his two brothers who aren't off busy making rounds at the stadium on a D-Wheel?

Tying his own fluffy, white towel around his shoulders, Yuya throws a nearby black blanket to Yuto. The oldest is initially a little embarrassed about the notion, but no one can ever say no to the baby of the Sakaki family, can they? (He'll just have to live the shame down from the twins later on... They barely even respect him as they are right now, anyway) In the middle of the duel, Yuri walks in onto the two of them after having finished his homework (or tweaking his deck). He raises an eyebrow at Yuto's appearance, but gets the gist of the situation when he sees their duel disks activated and Yuya standing on top of the sofa in a similar attire. As Yuto steals Yuya's schtick and becomes a tomato, Yuri pouts about being left out and quickly leaves to hunt for something that will allow him to join the fun. When the duel ends, Yuto passes the baton to Yuri. As he watches the two rattle off silly, goofy lines like, I will destroy the planet, the universe, all the worlds! and, Never! I'll stop you, fiend!, Yuto sighs in relief. At least Yuya now has Yuri to LARP with. Maybe Yugo would volunteer too, once he returned from driving practice and hears about it. Though, he'd likely ask to play the part of the hero himself. Anyway, Yuto's already almost in middle school; he's getting a little too old to play with costumes now. Then afterwards, at dinner, with an angelic smile Yuya says, "Yuuto, can we play like that again sometime? You look so cool with a cape!"

Yuri on the other hand, always had a tendency for the melodramatic, his own personal spin of the theatrics he's seen from his dad! Deep down he really loves playing the villain.

(This was meant to be a short description but I couldn't help putting some fic-like sentences in there tehe also yes that's a reference to the conversation between Yuya and G.O.D./Eve)

***

(warning: angst ahead)

Another headcanon I have that I want to write/draw something for is that in the postcanon where Reiji, Yuya, Isaac and Ren travel through space and time together, Yuya has moments where he falters to his grief.

He's used to his brothers commenting and nagging him on almost anything and everything (A midnight snack? Think about your complexion, Yuya!) and his world is suddenly a lot more quiet. In his hurt, he starts to avoid Ren, not wanting to be reminded of what he's lost (He doesn't feel good about it).

Eventually Reiji intervenes and Yuya opens up a little. He's been unable to properly let himself grief for his brothers. All he wants to say is that he misses them.

But he doesn't feel like he has the right to do so, having being the one to seal their fates by personally destroying the one method of bringing them back to life. He doesn't regret his decision of course, but he's unable to stop himself from feeling this way too.

It has a happy ending; Reiji convinces Yuya to talk to Ren. Yuya shares stories about Yugo at Ren's request, making the both of them laugh. Yuya realises that there are other methods of bringing back people to life, too, even if only momentarily.

But it is enough.

***

Misc hcs:

Yuya's charisma and attitude is a combination of his three brothers fawning over his cuteness from birth and Yuya being so star-struck with Yusho's performances he attempted to replicate the movements ever since he could walk.

Being the oldest, Yuto feels a sense of responsibility for his brothers and pledged to take care of them in place of his always-missing parents. However, he oft times finds himself not having to do much because Yugo and Yuri are so determined to win over Yuya's heart (and be proclaimed 'favourite brother') that they also make sure to set a good example for the youngest when possible. This causes Yuto a little bit of an identity crisis (/j it's just for fun) until he settles into his role as the househusband cook.

"All of us... are connected by... the arc of destiny!"

Reiji and Yuya are supposed to be silhouetted by their fathers, so Yuzu is meant to seem like she's looking at Yuya, but is in fact looking at Yusho. I also think VJ Yuto should be allowed to smile more!

This drawing is meant to be my love letter to the manga as a whole, and ESPECIALLY the last duel between Reiji and Yuya. I talked about it a whole ton in the review linked above already, so go check that out if you haven't!!

I was really happy with the composition when I first made this, especially with Sora/Ren/Isaac Versus the Yus mirroring their duels! (Well, okay, I know Isaac didn't duel Yuto but.... just give this to me)

Anyway I really wanted a fun and positive energy for it! Every month I think about returning to this but I get slightly demotivated when I realise I have *zero* colour references for both Ren and Isaac... Please send in your headcanons...

***

Last but not least, last month I got brain worms for another animatic/hand-drawn MV for Eve's Fight Song! I'll never ever have to time to go back to it, but I wanted to take the chance to talk about other songs that make me ill when I think about them with the manga.

1. Myth & Roid - TRAGEDY:ETERNITY

Don’t give me an eternity Even if that’s all I can believe Press pause on the flow of time In the shadow of the blink of an eye I don’t wanna fall into a sleep ‘Cause now you are my remedy Now knocking on, knocking on, knocking on my brain Even for the temptation of a nightmare Fate demands a costly reparation for its fare

Translated lyrics mostly from lyrical-nonsense, but I made some changes for better rhyming and flow yahoo!! This song is what I imagine the OP would be in my dreams when it received an anime adaptation, I've always dreamed of making my own animatic to it!!

Not just the chorus, but the ENTIRE SONG (pleeeease go take a look at the lyrics) feels like it's made for the manga please please go take a look

2. MYTH & ROID - -to the future days

I cast my wishes to the future days If we can meet on the other side of eternity… I cast my wishes to the future days What should we talk about first? Sadness and even joy will, eventually Will sleep together That's the way life is If such a world could be granted Would nobody feel hurt anymore?

Yeah I like M&R quite a bit, how'd you know

If T:E was the hypothetical OP, this is my pick for the ED theme, like AAAAAAAA for me it encompasses the yu's story so so so so so so so well, though

And:

Both despair and also life come to end eventually Take this future into your hands and let it run its course Spin it ’round…… The hands on the clock spin around Like flowers, petals falling and fluttering Once we blossom, we dissipate in the moment THE BRIDGE THE BRIDGE THE LYRICS ARGHHHHHHHH This is definitely for me, the moment when the three yus start to fade during Yuya's battle with Eve, their last conversation they have with yuya..... *lies onto the ground in a pile of misery*

Rest of the lyrics HERE shoves it into your face

3. MAISONdes - Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous

It's no joke, no it's not! Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous Even when the time comes nothing will come of it Vague truths only become melancholy Come on and snatch me away now, take on me!

This is a fun one, when I watched the PV and in the chorus Lum was spinning I instantly went wow what if that was Phantom.. and then the lyrics bared their claws and sunk them into my brain and hasn't really let go since

Unlike the above two songs, not all of the lyrics are a perfect match, of course, but I adore how in general the whimsical yet lonely nature of the song feels like it fits Phantom so well!

4. Eve - Fight Song

As the night still refuses to end, let’s dream

Last but not least the song I posted the above storyboard for! CSM fans (as well as Eve fans, lol) are probably already familiar with the song, and full lyrics here, though like the song above, only parts of the song (particularly the chorus) really resonated with the vj brainworms in my head lol Even for me, y’know Let’s make a break for the future Towards the verge of death like we pray for A boy that gave his word Today, just like back then As if there’s no more future ahead

Sigh.... Yuto, Yugo, Yuri................ Just let out your voice Let’s take it easy We don’t even know common sense, so we know the world through wise eyes These overflowing feelings, behold Greet me with an applause

I love the first half a lot, I can easily imagine Yuya saying it to the other three... and of course, the latter, from him to the world! (or perhaps even G.O.D...)

As always thanks for reading GOODBYE I GOTTA GO DRAW SOME ARC-V OCS

[dailyanarchistposts]

I.2.1 Why discuss what an anarchist society would be like at all?

Partly, in order to indicate why people should become anarchists. Most people do not like making jumps in the dark, so an indication of what anarchists think a desirable society could look like may help those people who are attracted to anarchism, inspiring them to become committed to its practical realisation. Partly, it’s a case of learning from past mistakes. There have been numerous anarchistic social experiments on varying scales, and its useful to understand what happened, what worked and what did not. In that way, hopefully, we will not make the same mistakes twice.

However, the most important reason for discussing what an anarchist society would look like is to ensure that the creation of such a society is the action of as many people as possible. As Errico Malatesta indicated in the middle of the Italian revolutionary “Two Red Years” (see section A.5.5), “either we all apply our minds to thinking about social reorganisation, and right away, at the very same moment that the old structures are being swept away, and we shall have a more humane and more just society, open to future advances, or we shall leave such matters to the ‘leaders’ and we shall have a new government.” [The Anarchist Revolution, p. 69]

Hence the importance of discussing what the future will be like in the here and now. The more people who have a fairly clear idea of what a free society would look like the easier it will be to create that society and ensure that no important matters are left to others to decide for us. The example of the Spanish Revolution comes to mind. For many years before 1936, the C.N.T. and F.A.I. put out publications discussing what an anarchist society would look like (for example, After the Revolution by Diego Abel de Santillan and Libertarian Communism by Isaac Puente), the end product of libertarians organising and educating in Spain for almost seventy years before the revolution. When it finally occurred, the millions of people who participated already shared a similar vision and started to build a society based on it, thus learning firsthand where their books were wrong and which areas of life they did not adequately cover.

So, this discussion of what an anarchist society might look like is not a drawing up of blueprints, nor is it an attempt to force the future into the shapes created in past revolts. It is purely and simply an attempt to start people discussing what a free society would be like and to learn from previous experiments. However, as anarchists recognise the importance of building the new world in the shell of the old, our ideas of what a free society would be like can feed into how we organise and struggle today. And vice versa; for how we organise and struggle today will have an impact on the future.

As Malatesta pointed out, such discussions are necessary and essential, for it is “absurd to believe that, once government has been destroyed and the capitalists expropriated, ‘things will look after themselves’ without the intervention of those who already have an idea on what has to be done and who immediately set about doing it” for “social life, as the life of individuals, does not permit of interruption.” He stressed that to “neglect all the problems of reconstruction or to pre-arrange complete and uniform plans are both errors, excesses which, by different routes, would led to our defeat as anarchists and to the victory of new or old authoritarian regime. The truth lies in the middle.” [Op. Cit., p. 121]

Moreover, the importance of discussing the future can help indicate whether our activities are actually creating a better world. After all, if Karl Marx had been more willing to discuss his vision of a socialist society then the Stalinists would have found it much harder to claim that their hellish system was, in fact, socialism. Given that anarchists like Proudhon and Bakunin gave a board outline of their vision of a free society it would have been impossible for anarchism to be twisted as Marxism was. Most anarchists would agree with Chomsky’s evaluation of the issue:

“A movement of the left should distinguish with clarity between its long-range revolutionary aims and certain more immediate effects it can hope to achieve … “But in the long run, a movement of the left has no chance of success, and deserves none, unless it develops an understanding of contemporary society and a vision of a future social order that is persuasive to a large majority of the population. Its goals and organisational forms must take shape through their active participation in political struggle [in its widest sense] and social reconstruction. A genuine radical culture can be created only through the spiritual transformation of great masses of people the essential feature of any social revolution that is to extend the possibilities for human creativity and freedom .. . The cultural and intellectual level of any serious radical movement will have to be far higher than in the past … It will not be able to satisfy itself with a litany of forms of oppression and injustice. It will need to provide compelling answers to the question of how these evils can be overcome by revolution or large-scale reform. To accomplish this aim, the left will have to achieve and maintain a position of honesty and commitment to libertarian values.” [Radical Priorities, pp. 189–90]

We hope that this section of the FAQ, in its own small way, will encourage as many people as possible to discuss what a libertarian society would be like and use that discussion to bring it closer.

[lunaticludwig]

Pixel Art practice (Days 1-8)

Hello, Tumblr. A week ago I decided to start learning pixel art properly with daily practice. So I thought I might share some of my stuff on here time to time.

Day 1

I wanted to start big with an art of a diamond on a pedestal of sorts, however I didn't get to finish it, as I decided to work with smaller canvases (64x64 compare to 16x16 that are used later) but still it deserves a mention.

Days 2 & 3

This is when I went to smaller canvas and I thought: "Hmm, I might as well redesign Minecraft items". And so on day 2 I made this diamond sword and on day 3 I made the golden apple. Notice how the former doesn't have an outline, but the latter does. I wasn't sure whether or not to use outline, lol.

Day 4

Might have been the most unproductive day. Originally I wanted to experiment with 3D shapes like cubes and spheres, but I was so consumed by the shading techniques, I tried to figure out how does dithering work and just made this crap...

Day 5

I was still experimenting with the outline as well as shading. I also might have been hungry while drawing.

Days 6-8

Those were the days I had the most fun with. I decided to redraw the items from The Binding of Isaac. I would just open a website with all items listed and pick a random item to draw by their ID. Can you guess all the items I've drawn?

Ok, on day 6 I drew Binky, Spider Bite and Leprosy (first three items in the top left), then on day 7 I drew Teleport!, Bloody Lust, Worm Friend, The Pinking Shears and Cracked Orb, and lastly on day 8 I drew Inner Child, Lemon Mishap, Varicose Veins (aka the Shrimp), 2Spooky, Rubber Cement, Ghost Pepper and The Virus. I should also mention that different item sprite have different resolutions, and so I tried fit them all into a 16x16 pixels format (e.g. the original Spider Bite sprite is a lot wider than mine, and Teleport! is a bit taller, and shaped a bit differently, but who cares), I guess the only outlier is Ghost Pepper that I didn't want to collide with other sprites.

That wraps up my first week. I want to keep going, regardless of what's going on in my life. If somebody sees this post, don't hesitate to give criticism. That's all for now, peace.

[johnhardinsawyer]

The Blessings of Not Letting Go

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

9 / 24 / 23 – Narrative Lectionary – 203

Genesis 32:9-13, 22-31

Psalm 96:7-13

“The Blessings of Not Letting Go”

(Living Discipleship # 3 – Weekly Worship)

Jacob knows that God is out there, that God has a special purpose for him, but tonight, he is wrestling – just like most of us do.  Years ago, Jacob had run away from his angry brother Esau and their confused and disappointed father, Isaac.  Years ago, on a lonely night in the wilderness, Jacob had a dream – a vision of God’s glory and blessing.  He is wrestling with his fears and deep longing for home, with his family legacy and his need for reconciliation.  Jacob is wrestling with faith in the God who loves him – the God who has called him to do a hard thing. And in all of his spiritual wrestling about his past, present, and future, Jacob wonders, “Will God show up?”  

I was talking with a friend a few weeks ago who was thinking about a way to give their child some kind of knowledge about God and/or religion.  “Would something like Sunday School be good for my child?” they asked.  “Yes,” I said, “at our church or some other church, wherever you feel comfortable,” (though I could kind of tell that they did not feel very comfortable with the idea of coming to church . . . at least not quite yet).  After thinking about it, I said, “Look, in some ways, learning about God or religion is kind of like learning math.  If you’re not exposed to it, you won’t be able to learn much on your own.  If, however, you are exposed to it enough, you might just start to understand it a little and begin to see its value.”

Now, when it comes to evangelism, the “Learning-about-God-is-kind-of-like- learning-about-math” approach is not going to win me any awards – especially among those who don’t really like the idea of God or math.  But what I was awkwardly trying to get across while standing on the soccer field while our kids had practice was the idea that the only way to learn some things is to actually try to learn those things.  And, just like we might get some sense of math in a vacuum – in that most of us have ten fingers and ten toes and might just figure out how to count with them – we might also get some sense of God – in that our bodies, and the world we live in, and the wonders of love, and a sense of purpose in our lives are wrapped up in and shot through with mystery and wonder.  Real knowledge, though, means coming into regular contact with that which we do not know so that it can become more known to us.  Real knowledge means making ourselves available to that which is already available. 

Last week, we spent some time thinking about prayer and I said that regular sustained interactions are often best in developing any kind of relationship.  Regular and sustained contact with God – through prayer – is part of developing a relationship with God.  To go to God in prayer on a daily basis increases our spiritual vocabulary and our openness to the One who draws close to us, offering grace upon grace.  

The same can be said of worship – regular worship.  In the book Real Faith for Real Life, the book upon which we are basing this sermon series, Lutheran pastor Michael W. Foss writes that there was a time in his life when he was going through a very hard time – but one day in worship, he experienced a feeling of gratitude so profound, so remarkable that he felt blessed.  As Foss writes: 

It was a touch of God, and I knew that worship was not about what I could do or how well I could do it.  Worship is the coming of God [into our midst].  In the midst of the Scripture reading, the preaching, and singing God shows up.  In worship, people who long to connect with the Spirit can heal their heart’s hunger.[1]

When it comes to God showing up in worship and feelings of deep and profound gratitude and blessing, I’m going to be honest and say that you and I might not “feel all the feels” every week in worship.  When I was in college, I regularly attended the Baptist Student Union (the BSU) which met in the University Chapel.  And I’m going to be honest, probably seven or eight out of ten times that I went to the BSU, I didn’t get much out of it.  But two or three out of ten times, I was moved by something that I heard:  some message of good news, some lyrics to a song we sang, some act of friendship or connection with another person.  And I left, changed – blessed – because I felt that God had somehow shown up.  Now, the following week – or three – at the BSU meeting might have been a total spiritual bust, but I knew the Holy feeling I had encountered and I knew it was in there, somewhere, with those people in that darkened college chapel – waiting for me to come back, looking for it.  

Friends, you and I can go to church week-in-and-week-out and run into the same thing.  We might know that something is here – in this place, with these people, in the act of worship – but we might not always “feel” it.  The problem is that most people I know don’t have the patience or think that they have the time to have one spiritual bust, much less seven in a row.  Most people might give church a chance a time or two, but after that . . . well . . . Is it worth it if I’m not getting anything out of it the times that I am able to show up?  

This is the difficult spot that church often finds itself in.  High stakes!  It means that we need to take how we welcome other people, and the level of excellence that we seek to offer in our worship, and the ways that we create an environment for spiritual flourishing very seriously.  It’s an almost impossible task in this day and age when growing in faith and in the knowledge of God takes a lifetime but not every lesson is going to “land” in people’s minds, and hearts, and souls every time.  

Thankfully, though, God is able – in our worship – to do what we are unable to do.  It helps when we, as a church, come to worship and offer our best, but even when our worship might be a spiritual bust for some, God still shows up for others.  How many times have I stepped down from the pulpit, thinking that I preached a dog of a sermon, only to find that someone somehow heard a good word from God in a place – a pause or a paragraph – where my own limited imagination could not conceive of God actually showing up? 

I guess since today’s topic is about “Weekly Worship,” the question should be asked, “If God is showing up in worship, does this mean that we should, too?  Every week?”  I usually encounter at least three barriers to this idea. . .  

Sometimes, I’ll run into people in the grocery store – people I know from church.  And, maybe I haven’t seen them in church for a while, but it sure is good to see them wherever I might see them.  Instead of being able to start the conversation by saying, “Oh, it sure is good to see you!” usually they will start the conversation by saying, “Ugh!  I feel so guilty for not coming to church.”  Friends, if guilt is the first thing you feel when you see your pastor, please know that I don’t want to be that kind of pastor.  

There’s also the argument of, “Well, I’m worshiping God when I go on a hike, or to the beach, or make that first perfect golf swing of the day,” to which Michael Foss writes, 

I love the out of doors as much as you do, but just worshiping God out here isn’t enough. . . If worship is God’s gift to us to satisfy the hunger in the human soul, then there is an eternal purpose to worshiping with others in church.  In fact, the Bible tells us that we honor God when we worship God in the company of the saints.  In the Bible, there is no calling to any individual that doesn’t lead that person into community.  Christian faith is deeply personal, but never private.  We honor God when we worship with others in church.[2]

There is one other argument – that Sunday mornings are already taken up by other obligations:  kids sports, care for a loved-one, or some form of self-care.  I get it.  I really do.  And I’m not trying to guilt anyone into anything (remember, I’m not that kind of pastor).  But I do want to encourage regular interactions with the Holy – in prayer over a meal, watching church online for a season, reading scripture with someone else, finding deeper meaning in community.  I wonder if there are ways of taking our worship and our spiritual community beyond these walls to meet people where they are – on the ballfield, on the hiking trail, in an elder-care facility, or a coffee shop, or wherever God’s people may be.  Worship is not so much an obligation – just one more thing to do.  Instead, it is a privilege.  And, if we can’t be present in body, if we can be present in spirit, open to the Holy – in some way, large or small – then we might just be changed, and comforted, and challenged, and blessed.  And isn’t this what we want. . . what we need from God?

In today’s reading from Genesis, we find Jacob – all alone and worried.  He has sent his family and everything he owns into an unknown future across a river and he is left waiting alone in the dark.  But he’s not really alone – none of us are ever really alone.   Suddenly, in the night, Jacob encounters a man who wrestles with him until daybreak.  I love how in the original language, the word “wrestle,” here, literally means, “they got dusty.”[3]  But Jacob – somehow knowing that in this wrestling match there is something mysterious, maybe even Holy, going on – says, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.”  (Genesis 32:26)

“I will not stop wrestling – I will not let you go – until I am blessed.”  Could there be a more apt way of describing what a real relationship with God is like?  It might not “happen” for us every week in worship, or in every prayer we utter with our lips, or in every act we try to do for the glory of God, but what if we didn’t stop showing up, didn’t stop praying, didn’t stop making ourselves available to be used for good by God, didn’t stop wrestling with God until we walked away being blessed?  

We, who are God-made, God-breathed, from the dust would be wise to remember that our encounters with the Holy might just challenge us and change us and bless us – even if we walk away dusty and limping, like Jacob does in today’s story.  What matters is that we have had an encounter with the Holy in a way that cannot be captured in any other way except simply being present in the moment with other people who are also dusty and wrestling.  This is worship.  And regular worship – maybe even weekly, or daily worship – increases our chances of being blessed or, at the very least, reminded of just how blessed we are.  Not letting go of the possibility – the hope – that we will encounter God might just open our minds and hearts and spirits to just such an encounter.  

May we never let go of our hope in God, may we never let go of making ourselves open and available – present – to encountering the Holy.  And – in our not letting go – may we be blessed.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

-------

[1] Michael W. Foss, Real Faith for Real Life: Living the Six Marks of Discipleship (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2004) 39.  [Brackets for clarity by JHS.]

[2] Michael W. Foss, 45-46.

[3] F. Brown, S. Driver, and C. Briggs, The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, Inc.) 7.

[andthebubbles]

okay i watched heartstopper 2x01 haha i just realised it was out when i saw a gifset on my dash (and i was like, huh is there a new clip on yt? lol), for some reason i thought it was gonna be out in late aug but nah it's aug 3 which is aug 4 for me and now it's aug 5 here ANYWAY

nick's "this is good" after getting hugged by imogen; just, the way he said it, his voice, awwwww

i'm more invested in tara and darcy than nick and charlie lol

i may have sorta screeched at the part where elle was gonna draw tao because in that ~benedict the artist -fic* which is like, modern AU, it's just (well it starts out with) benedict drawing anthony over and over again in different costumes for art practice when they're at eton and YEAH so, that's what i thought of, much happy squeaking

i like tori. not so keen on isaac (yet?)

anyway eeeeh what else. awkward silences galore...... um also i think generally atm i'm in the mood for angst (yooo anthony) so this fluffy stuff is ... nice, and i would've REALLY appreciated having a show like this when i was in high school, but i'm older now and on the anthony angst train so i'm like, yep...

but it'll probably get a bit angstier in later eps, they're certainly foreshadowing it, though even in s1 it never got that angsty, and i REALLY like that, it just makes this show a warm comforting hug and that's esp nice when you're queer

i guess i'll watch more ... later, sometime. i just want more tara and darcy haha (i know they have some storyline but i want it nowww and i want it happily resolved haha)

*actually this show is quite informative for that fic because it's the UK school system which i know fuck-all about... so GCSE is yr 11 huh, and there is a study hall thing?? is this common? do they really randomly pair you off? why don't they just have individual desks for everyone? why would i want to sit next to a stranger? ... okay well maybe a stranger would motivate me to do work lol

also... so i gather that charlie is in yr 10? but then why does he share a class with nick who's in yr 11?

[magiclwritings]

Of everything Oliver had ever done or said in their years together, this was truly one that left him completely speechless. He hadn't the slightest idea what the hell his boyfriend was talking about and all he could do was look at him in wonder. Perhaps that nap had been better than he thought. But he wasn't anywhere else but their bed and so he started to let what he was saying sink in and his brow scrunched in frustration. He thought to reach for his phone but remembered it was out in the living area and instead he thought to give in to this crazy notion. "First," He started, reaching up to kiss Oliver softly for just a moment. It felt nice to have his warmth on him as he was. His muscles felt sore from early practice.

"Second, there is no way in hell that Apollo adopted any sort of child. I'm surprise they've managed to keep Milo alive this long." He sighed, his hands slowly drifting up the other's back and he let a lazy smile drift on his lips. "I think that's more due to Isaac than Apollo in all fairness." His leg slipped up and he hooked it around Oliver's back, moving them on to their sides so he could get a better look and position. Cass slid on to his elbow and looked with a softness only Oliver had been able to pull out of him. "But a child? Absolutely not. Orion had to have heard it wrong. Or maybe it's some kind of work Apollo's doing." There wasn't any thought that he could come up with that would explain away a child. And that worried him.

He looked between the two of them and then the door, deciding that maybe he'd better just check in on this one. "But ..." He trailed off as he stretched out, leaning back and letting a few of his vertebrae crack and he sighed happily at the alleviation. "It has been a while since we've gone to see them. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to see what they're all up to." He was itching to get up and go see if Apollo had sent some king of explanation, if there were to be one about this. But the other part enjoyed having Oliver next to him. He sighed and tucked in to kiss him gently. "You owe me some quiet time later." Cass smiled against his lips and slowly pulled back. "Or some not so quiet time. Come on." He untangled himself and slowly got up from their bed. "You can show me this maybe nephew."

__________________________________________

Isaac sat very still for what felt like eons. This whole thing had not been fun. The smile he wore to keep the small human from finding out what Apollo was doing, and what he had allowed. But as he felt the small fingers grazing his skin, all he could think was how terrible all of this had been. Is he sick? His eyes trained on the boys and Isaac breathed out so slowly. He didn't know the implications of what would happen with the potion and his magick or his Theo had even had enough for it to matter but nonetheless, he kept calm.

"I thin' he's jus' worried abou' ya ma." He told him very plainly because it was clear that this boy did not understand what adult motives put him in danger. Isaac smiled warmly and placed his own hand over the boy's, squeezing gently. He thought better than to take the touch away, make him feel unwanted because that was not true. What? "Maybe ya can tell us abou' erm .. wha' was her name? Mrs. W?" He squeezed one more time and let go to give him another pancake from the leftover stack. Another pat of butter on top and he handed the syrup back to Theo with a smile.

Isaac stole a look over at Apollo to reassure him they were okay. "You seem li'e ya see Mrs. W a lo'. Is she one o' ya ma's friends maybe?" He watched as the little boy took another bite and he leaned back into his own chair, sliding his hand into Apollo's and squeezing tightly. If only he knew the strength that Apollo gave him just by being. "I don' thin' tha' we know her a' all. A' leas' I do no' thin' we do." He glanced at over at him and shrugged, drawing up absolutely nothing one a name that could possibly fit.

When Oliver Davenport came home, he did it with flair. The door burst open, and he stood, waiting for his audience (his boyfriend) to see the beaming grin on his face because, for once, he had gossip (about Apollo) that he knew before Cassio did. It was a holiday for Oliver because Cass knew everything about Apollo (their best friend) before he did. But today, today was different.

But upon bursting into the apartment, he realized the living room was empty. Oliver sighed heavily and dragged the bags from his mini-shopping spree into the room. He spied Cass’ keys hanging on the wall, so he knew he was there somewhere. Somewhere, upon further investigation, it turned out to be their bedroom, napping. Oliver jumped on the bed, rolling himself over on his sleeping beauty. “Cassie, baby,” He said, nuzzling into the warmth of his neck. He kissed the tip of his chin and then his nose. Oliver watched as his boyfriend’s eyes peeked open. 

“I have news to share with you. Big news.” He gave the blond a minute to wake up fully and felt his arms wrap around Oliver’s back, fingers dancing under his shirt and lightly scraping at his back. “We’re uncles. Apollo and Isaac adopted a son today.” He watched for Cass’ expression but couldn’t because so much had happened, and it was all bursting out of him. “Don’t worry. I have already been shopping for gifts since, you know, they did this in two seconds without telling anyone, and we couldn’t throw them a shower. Do you throw showers when adopting a toddler? I’m not sure. Anyway, we should go over there and see the little tike. But also, before we go, I should mention Apollo didn’t specifically tell me he told Orion, which I do take offense to, and had to beat it out of my brother. Did you know they were close? Annnyways, what do you think? Say yes, because I want to go meet our new nephew.”

____________________

Apollo watched as Isaac drifted into the dining room with the food. He should feel good that his boyfriend knew he hadn’t done this. Whatever this was, it was something done to him. But Isaac was right, for Apollo, it was always one thing after another. It was him dragging Isaac into some more shit. He had made peace with it, a long time ago, that this was his life. But now he had to someone he loved, cared about, that shared his experiences. And it wasn’t fucking fair. 

Shoving the potion vial back into his pocket, Apollo walked into the dining room to join them. Theo was giggling at something Isaac had said, his attention tore between the cat on the table and whatever Isaac had done. If Apollo had to guess, it was something to do with an ungodly amount of syrup. He stopped next to Theo, bending down so he was next to him. “His name is Milo,” He said and watched as the toddler looked at the cat, but his eyes didn’t light up the way Apollo had expected. If anything, he seemed used to it. 

“I know Meelo,” Theo replied, reaching a hand out towards the cat. With distracted attention, Apollo reached into his pocket and uncapped the potion, allowing two drops of it to fall into the orange juice in Theo’s glass. “He’s my kitty cat!” 

“Of course you do,” Apollo mumbled, frustrated. He went to his seat next to Isaac and across from Theo. Milo jumped into his lap as soon as he sat down, so at least that was normal. 

They ate. Well, Isaac, Theo, and Milo ate. Apollo couldn’t bear the idea of food sitting in his churning stomach. So he cut small pieces of plain pancakes and fed them to Milo when Isaac wasn’t looking, which was hard because his boyfriend’s gaze was constantly on him throughout the meal. “Theo,” Apollo said after a few moments of hearing the others chew. “What did your mom say before she left?” 

The boy opened his mouth to answer but then thought better of himself and chewed the mouthful of food he had. He took a sip of OJ to wash it down and then looked at Apollo. “That she was gonna go on a trip, and I was gonna stay with Mrs. W until you came to get me, but you didn’t, and then Mrs. W couldn’t get in touch with momma, and I kept telling her you were gonna come get me, but she didn’t know how to find you.”

That…told him nothing. “Theo, do you know where she went?” 

“Nope!” Apollo pressed his fingers to his forehead. Theo ate his pancakes. “Can I have more, please? You make the best pancakes ever,” He turned his attention away from Apollo to Isaac. “They’re my favorite pancakes ever!”

"When was the last time you had Isaac's pancakes?" Apollo leaned forward, trying to catch Theo's gaze.

The boy's brow furrowed, and he looked from Isaac to Apollo. "I don't remember." Then he leaned further into Isaac's space, placing a small hand on the man's arm. "Dad is being weird. Is he sick?"

[therizinotfuckingthere]

i enjoy making my favorite characters interact

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Dating Nick Nelson would include

Pairings: Nick Nelson x male!reader

Requested by: @imjust-confused Hi! Could you do nick Nelson(heartstopper) x male reader dating headcanons,feel free to ignore this! :)

Warnings: none other than mention of Nick patching you up

A/N I love Nick and I couldn’t say no to this, the reader is around the same age as Nick, sorry for it being short, I’m just doing some head cannons while writing the other ones, that I have put on hold for a while bc I have had a depressed mood in a while now, and still have but I’m trying to get myself out of it and school is finally slowing down in all the assignments so yeah, enjoy the while I do the rest of my works

Okay so dating Nick Nelson is amazing

He’s always there to comfort you, and you do the same to him

A lot of cuddles

A lot of small kisses while cuddling

I feel like he would try to teach you rugby

He patches you up every time you get hurt while practicing, or if you just are clumsy then he still patches you up

When you are anxious he lets you draw on his hand, or he just keeps an eye out for you, and makes sure you are okay, taking your hand, giving you a hug

He introduced you to his family a few weeks after you started dating

His family being pretty chill and fun to be around

Especially Nellie, Nick would swear that Nellie loves you more than him

Going to the beach is one of the things you do together every summer

Doing cute little thing together

Watching Marvel movies together either because both of you love them, or if you don’t like them then you watch them because Nick loves them

When going to school you always hold hands

And in class every student can see the two of you whispering to each other

Eating lunch together and sometimes sharing milkshakes or ice cream with each other

Being friends with Tao, Charlie, Tara, Darcy, Elle and Isaac

Definitely having some double/triple dates

Going to the cinema with Nick is one of the best things ever

If you have just started to come to term with being in love with a your own gender then Nick would help you as much as he could to make you accept that what you are feeling is normal

Cute and silly moments is something that happens everyday

Like that one time you had a pillow fight

Or the time when you accused Nick of liking Elizabeth Swann and William Turner more then he loves you which ended in Nick denying it and giving you a very passionate kiss to prove you wrong

Or that one time you slept over at Nick’s place and while you were sleeping he drew on your hand

Or the fact that the two of you always steals borrow each other’s clothes

Okay but you two would literally be the best couple ever

[1jet2unknown]

@averystereksummer Day 7 - out on the water

Finally back home and able to properly post again. Again a bit too late for the actual day itself, but I hope you guys enjoy anyway :)

The pack spent a day at the beach and shortly after they set camp under some big sun umbrellas only a short distance from the water, Derek, Scott, Allison, Isaac and Jackson rented out some surfboards, all quick to paddle out to the sea, trying to catch one of the good waves.

Stiles stayed back with Lydia who laid in a lounge chair under a big umbrella reading as well as Erica & Boyd who were more interested to draw obsceneries into the sand, Erica cackling whenever a passing mother gasped and pulled her child away.

Stiles watched Derek catch some of the big waves, smoothly riding them out, making surfing look so easy. He smiled when after almost an hour Derek came wading back out of the water a bright smile on his face as he unclased the line of his board from his ankle.

“You look like you had fun,” Stiles mused as he handed Derek his towel. Derek just grinned, his muscles flexing as he dried off his hair. “Absolutely did. You shoud try it, too!”

Stiles just huffed. “Me?” he scoffed.” Yeah right! I have a hard enough time to stay on two steady feet while walking. I’d probably split the board with my head in less than five minutes.

”Derek snorted. “Oh, come on. You might be a bit clumsy sometimes...” Jackson snorted loudly at that as he passed by and Stiles threw him a glare. “But you’re more athletic than you give yourself credit. I could totally teach you!”

It took about one more hour of Derek explaining some of the basics of surfing and the pack mocking Stiles for Stiles to agree to give surfing a try.

“Ten bucks on Stiles not even getting up on the board,” Jackson exclaimed. “Ten he does," Scott offered in return and just when Stiles wanted to thank his friend for sticking up for him, Scott added “but faceplants within less than 5 seconds.”

Stiles glared at his traitor-friend as well as at the rest of the pack, each chiming in their own bets of how Stiles would fail on the board.

“Ten on Stiles riding a small wave within less than an hour.”

Stiles’ head whipped around as fast as the others’ to find Derek with an eyebrow raised in a challenge. He pulled his shirt over his head, handing it over to Stiles. “Wear this. It keeps you from scraping your torso until you have the hang of it and keeps you warm in the water.”

Stiles gulped, but took the shirt from Derek nonetheless, pulling it over his head. Derek smiled at him. “You ready to start your first surfing lesson?” he asked and Stiles threw another look at the grinning pack before nodding and falling in step behind Derek.

Derek pointed him towards Scott’s board, pulling his own from the sand with ease. When they had made their way over to the water, to Stiles’ surprise Derek made him put his board down on the sand rather than in the water.

“We’ll start with the basics. Paddling and popping up,” Derek explained and Stiles rolled his shoulders in preparation for what ever Derek had him do for the next hour.Okay. He felt stupid, laying on his board practicing paddling on land, but Derek said it was necessary and he trusted Derek. He wouldn’t just have him do this to make fun of him. And surely enough, after a few corrections of his movements here and there Derek allowed Stiles to move on to practicing popping up.

During the first try, Stiles slipped, crashing face first onto the board and the pack was howling. Derek shot them a red-eyed glare before turning back to Stiles, helping him up and taking a careful look at his chin.

“Don’t let that bother you,” he said in a small but sure voice. “You’re doing good. Avoid grabbing the edges of the board and you’ll be less likely to slip. I’ll also wax the board a bit more, giving you a better grip.

”Stiles nodded, weirdly aware of Derek’s fingers still caerfully holding his chin.Derek gave him another nod before turning around, prepping Stiles’ board.

And sure enough, about 30min later Stiles was able to jump and stand on his board correctly. Derek gave him a proud, teethy smile and nodded towards the water. “Now... Let’s try the same thing in the water.”

Ten minutes of paddling in the water later, Derek sat on his board and demonstrated popping up once more. Stiles watched as Derek got on in one smooth motion, riding the small wave expertly.

Derek paddled back to where Stiles’ was seated on Scott’s board. He pushed himself to a sitting position and pushed his wet hair from his forehead.

“Think you got this?” he asked and Stiles gulped. He took a deep breath, eyes shortly scanning the beach for the others who were watching them before looking straight at Derek again. He nodded.

“Good,” Derek answered. “Then get ready.” He looked behind them, watching a wave coming up. “You can catch this one. I’ll be right with you. You got this.”

The two of them got into position and when they found themselves close to the peak, Derek shouted “paddle, paddle, paddle” prompting Stiles to paddle with his arms as if there was no tomorrow.

“Jump!” Derek instructed and Stiles pushed himself up as quick and smoothly as he could.

“YES!!!!” Derek screamed as he watched Stiles catch his very first wave, feet planted firmly on the board as he rode for a few meters. When his board slowed down, Stiles jumped from the board, crashing into the water rather unvceremoniously. But he didn’t find it in himelf to care.

When he broke the surface, his face almost split from the huge grin on his face.Derek paddled over, a grin almost as big on his face. “Told you you’d be able to do it!” Stiles pulled himself onto the board, answering the high-five Derek offered him before turning his head to the shoreline.

“SUCK ON THAT, DICKHEADS!” he screamed from the top of his lungs accommodated by his hands held high above his head, flipping his friends off.

Derek just laughed as he watched the younger one, a fond glint in his eyes.

Another hour later, Derek and Stiles were still in the water.Stiles had ended up falling a few times while trying to catch bigger waves than that first one, but he found himself to not care much, the joy of allt he times he did manage to catch a wave outshining any frustration he might feel the times he didn’t.He and Derek sat on Derek’s board, Scott’s board swimming close to them, still attached to Stiles’ ankle. "Wrap-up session" Derek had explained when he had patted his board, urging Stiles to join him.

“So... how did I do, teach?” Stiles joked and Derek shook his head slightly in amusement. Stiles nudged him with his knee. “Come on. You can be frank with me... I mean, I did fall quite a bit there. But..” He scrunched up his nose, wiggling his head a little trying to get some reply out of Derek.

Derek lipped his lips and nudged Stiles’ knee back. “You were amazing,” he said in a low and earnest voice that made Stiles’ face heat up and chest grow tight.“Amazing?” Stiles asked, a shy smile on his face, and Derek nodded.

“Amazing. As expected.”

That made Stiles huff an embarrassed laugh, pushing against Derek’s shoulder.  “Yeah right,” he said. “As if ‘amazing’ is a word people actually associate with me,” he mumbled but when he looked up he found Derek looking straight at him, face open and honest. “I do.”

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat and for a few moments all he could do was stare at Derek, mouth slightly agape with disbelief that Derek - Derek Hale - had just said that. About him of all people.

“I trust your capabilities,” Derek said, eyes wandering to where Stiles had started to fist them into the wet fabric of his swim shorts. “I trust you,” he added and Stiles huffed out the breath he had held.

For a few moments Stiles just watched Derek. Who suddenly seemed unable to look Stiles’ in the eyes anymore. And Stiles felt lightheaded with the realization what Derek’s words actually meant.

Derek trusted him. He knew that. But that wasn’t what Derek had meant when he had said the words. Stiles knew Derek long enough to understand his words the way they were intended - as a love confession.

And it made him light-headed and giddy and tense and hot and cold... all at the same time. Because yes. He had hoped for this moment, prayed for it, for the past couple of years. In between all the times they were at each others throat, bickering, saving each others' life more times than they could count.

He had long been Derek's. And he had hoped, against all the doubt and self-depreciation in his mind, that maybe someday Derek might feel the same.

“I trust you, too,” he said in a voice so low it was barely a whisper. And given the bright, relieved smile on Derek's face the were had understood Stiles, too.

For a moment they just looked at each other, the bright orange and red from the setting sun reflecting in their eyes.

It was Derek who moved first, reaching out and cupping Stiles' face with one hand as he leaned forward. Stiles closed his eyes for a moment, nestling against Derek's palm before leaning forward to meet Derek's lips. 

[junk-thrillz]

And I love talking about Violet, which means we can both get what we want!! Hooray!!

The simple answer is that for me, Violet's draw is literally everything about her. The longer answer is this:

1) Violet is an oddity amongst the rest of the kid cast, especially amongst her friends. Violet isn't the only non-supernatural character attending Mayview Middle; Jeff was possessed by Hijack but is, as far as we know, still human, and looking outside of Violet's friends, you've got Suzy, 3/4s of the Jang, etc. But Violet is the only character who approaches the supernatural the way we see her approaching it in the comic.

Take Chapter 5's hitball arc, where we have all of the kid cast (minus Isaac) in one scene. Hijeff is able to throw dodgeballs hard enough to dent bleachers. This is acknowledged as pretty unusual by the others, based on their reactions. But Suzy doesn't question it, she just starts filming in order to get a new scoop. Meanwhile, characters like RJ and Ollie keep playing as if it were another game of hitball, just with way higher stakes than usual.

Violet is the only person to engage with the situation differently. Violet is the only person who considers leaving to be an option. When faced with an unprecedented, highly unusual situation, the other characters continue to accept and engage with the situation, in a way that's ridiculous considering people could actually get hurt. Violet isn't the only non-supernatural kid, but she is the only one to engage with the situation as if it weren't supernatural. She runs out and gets help from an adult.

^ One of my favorite moments in Paranatural, of all time.

Okay, we've established in what way Violet is an oddity amongst the rest of the cast. Now for the reason it makes her interesting: I mean, it's literally what it says on the tin!

Out of all of the characters. Even Max, who is one of the characters most resistant to Mayview's wackiness, is deeply entrenched in the supernatural. Out of all of the non-supernatural characters. Violet is the only one who refuses to roll with the punches.

Which begs the question of why her?? What is her role to play in all of this? How is she literally the only one of her kind?? She's so different from everyone else. Compared to the others, she's practically an alien. Which brings me to the next point.

2) Violet's problems are so so big and so so small. I think that portrayals of Violet in fan content (my own stuff included!!) tend to focus on how her aloof 'cool girl' persona is a mask she puts on, and less on how the person underneath that mask is... kinda sad? Sad and frustrated, the ultimate tween combo.

She's good in emergencies (see her role in the hitball arc). She sticks up for other people (especially Jeff). She stands up to perceived injustice, and has more of a 'focus on those hurt' mentality than Cody, who wants revenge on the ones doing the hurting after Jeff is possessed. (Part of this could be due to their respective upbringings, but I digress). Violet cares, and she cares a lot.

That also means she's jealous. And defeated. And frustrated with the secrecy. And just... generally kind of downtrodden, when we catch her without her friends.

There aren't a lot of moments where Violet's on her own. Not yet, at least. But the moments we do get, where we can peek into her brain and see how she is when she's alone with her thoughts, are super interesting. The only times we've seen Violet smiling in the comic are in scenes where other characters are around (those times being Ch1p33, Ch5p288, Ch5p295, and Ch7p88).

And being moody isn't new news for a middle schooler, but it points to the really interesting way Violet's two main character components are entirely opposite to each other. Violet knows that something is weird about Mayview, that the behavior of the other kid cast-ers isn't normal, but she has no idea of what's going on, has no way to even guess at what might be happening. Her curse is that she's the only one who questions any of it, but has none of the goddamn puzzle pieces. She's aware of a world of supernatural happenings beyond ordinary comprehension, and doesn't even know that that's what she's aware of. But the other side of it is that her problems (aside from that big one) are comparatively mundane. She's jealous of Cody and Jeff's dynamic and is insecure about her place in her friend group. She worries she's a bad friend:

Violet's biggest problem is that she can feel the alienation worked into her character. Social isolation is her biggest enemy. In that way, she's relatable. She's 12 years old. Being a tween is fucking rough. It's hard in ways everyone just gets if they've been through it themselves.

At the core of Violet's character is someone both faced with a supernatural mystery beyond ordinary comprehension, and a regular lonely tweenager. The juxtaposition is fascinating.

3) That isn't to say that Violet isn't a badass, because, uh, she is. The fact she's so emo gives her a fun layer of depth, but she's still witty, fantastic in emergencies, and honestly, her cool girl persona works. Violet is Cool. As. Hell.

Once again, I really appreciate that panel where she's about to hit Coach Oop with the keyboard. Violet is someone who Gets Shit Done, and if she needs to handle a serious situation quickly she's not above resorting to violence. I think that's FANTASTIC. She has moments where she holds back, like with Jeff and Cody, but in general she's very proactive. Another good example of this is when she leaves behind her Chapter 5 argument with Cody to go check on Jeff.

4) And now we have the lightning round!! There is much to love about Violet, and not all of it belongs to paragraphs worth of analysis, but I wanted to list as much as I could anyway.

Violet's a DORK. She does not realize this about herself but she is a complete. dork. "I'm glad not being worried was the right call", she says, even though she was SOOOOO WORRIED. WHAT A SILLY CUTE LINE. IT'S GREAT.

All of Violet's less serious scenes are absolute RIOTS as well. There's the obvious "I'm so disappointed. About sports" example, but I want to put forward her interactions with Max in the school store as my personal favorite.

She is just so rude for no reason and it delights me so much. "Wow, desperate much?" IS THE FIRST THING SHE SAYS IN THIS SCENE AFTER SIDEEYEING MAX THE WHOLE TIME AND IT'S SO. RUDE. Violet is SO FUNNY.

(As a sidenote, in the panel where Max is asking her about the stars... why is Violet holding her cup like that?? With the pinkie stuck out?? It's like how people playing at tea parties hold their teacups. She's a complete dork. She's perfect.)

Oh my god, and we CANNOT end this particular segment without talking about her and Ed. So far the two only have three panel interactions, all of which are in the background. Two out of three of these panels have Violet being SO FUNNY about their dynamic. Feast thine eyeballs.

The way she approaches her friendships is so... funny. She's the worst at keeping her true feelings under lock and key, and often just skips the faking-it part and moves on to being rude.

Anyways, it's time to wrap this up. There's a lot more I could say about her, but I feel like I've hit the most important bits already.

Violet's a side character with a lot of depth, but even so, she seems to get left out of older fan content a lot, even stuff made after the Chapter 5 extravaganza. I've noticed during my Tumblr archive binges that even if people drew the 'whole' kid cast, they would often leave out Violet and Lisa while keeping in Jeff and Cody. This makes me sad because they're really really fun characters!! Violet's enjoyable to watch in action even if you don't analyze her too deeply because she's just so unique and funny!! And of course, the more you do analyze her, the deeper the rabbit hole goes. I'm really looking forward to seeing more of her, and finding out how she plays into Mayview's greater mysteries.

Fly high Violet, you would have loved the Monster High x Hot Topic collabs

as someone who's out of comic interest in the pnat kids doesn't stray particularly far from the activity club and their immediate frenemies i'd love to hear from people about what draw is of some of the less fleshed out side characters at mayview middle, because I see a lot of conversations especially around colin and violet that I could never have thought up and I find it completely fascinating