#mojo brain juice

[mojo-chojoo]

CHARITY COMMISSION INFO for PALESTINE SUDAN CONGO

here are the links where you can donate for sketch commissions!

Palestine:

ESIMS for GAZA or CARE FOR GAZA

but if you want more direct help, here are gofundmes:

Mohammed Alanqer and his family €60,417 / €70,000 goal

@mohammedaldeeb's gofundme €43,428 / €55,000 goal

@grandmoonpersona's fundraiser

@hayanahed's gofundme €90,666 / €100,000 goal

@ahmedhelllis's gofundme €19,477 / €80,000 goal

@lastdosesworld's donation link

@hazemsuhail's gofundme €10,545 / €50,000 goal

@heba-baker's gofundme €5,596 / €60,000 goal

@alihelles2's gofundme €1,841 / €100,000 goal

@abdalsalm's gofundme €2,875 / €50,000 goal

@mohamed-resh0's gofundme $4,184 / $40,000 goal

@khatiamnizar12's gofundme £0 / £6,500 goal

@yazanfamiily's gofundme €15,490 / €50,000 goal

Sudan:

Save the children

Sudan emergency appeal

SAPA

Congo:

WFP

Save the children

HOW TO ORDER?

Firstly, donate any amount above 10 dollars through the link above.

After that, DM me a screenshot of your donation confirmation.

Send your references and you’re good to go!

i will draw fanart, ocs, ship art, nsfw

❗️I encourage everyone to donate their desired amounts, giving as much as you can spare.

10-20 dollars > sketch commission, max 1 character

20-30 dollars > sketch commission, max 2 characters, ship art, wholesome or suggestive if u want

30+ dollars > sketch commission, max 2 characters, will do nsfw

50+ dollars > sketch commission, max 3 characters, will do nsfw

If you have any questions, or would like suggest an alternative Charity, feel free to send me an ask or dm. If you are seeing this and are uninterested in commissioning me please consider donating to one of the charities above and reblog this post. Thank you.

[chojomojo]

Where do you post your more recent Spicy Chicken and Mafia AU art if you still do?

hi! Unfortunately I haven't posted any spicy chicken au or mafia au stuff anywhere recently but if there will be anything it will probably be on mojo-chojoo, and if you want old spicy chicken au or old mafia au content in one place i have it posted in stacks on pixiv

i might move some stuff to bluesky including my nsfw stuff

if youre interested in general, here are all my links

[cantevenbeachhere]

Okay okay, so. Dragon-Ken, right? Would it be drag-ken or is that too much emphasis on drag? (Maybe it could be a double pun....food for thought). Obviously you'd have a full dragon form, but they are shapeshifters and we need to see the face we know as you, so there'd be a human or semi-human form. I'm thinking like gargoyle vibes, like human-ish body but talons and tail and wings and horns. And like a dusting of scales on the cheeks. My brain says...gold and pink but idk if that is too feminine? I doubt dragons much care for gender roles (oh...there's.the 'drag' part lol)

Trying to figure out the hoard. Live horses? Toy horses? Dolls in general? Faux mink coats? Still thinking that part out.

~gender-kenvy

OH DUDE HI! Hi you’re here! Talking about dragon stuff! That’s so cool, I actually had a dream last night about dragons, sooooo weird but so cool!

Okay so there’s this movie I watched some time ago like right after the whole Kendom thing and Barbie leaving to help like distract myself from all that stuff because I didn’t really wanna fully deal yet, and the movie involved a dragon, which was like super cool, but I’m actually gonna talk about another character because you got me thinking about horses and hordes.

So like what if my human/semi-human form was like a caretaker for horses. Like my own horses because they learned to trust me and I take good care of them and protect them. Despite how I looked if I don’t have a human form but just like that gargoyle-y form. Kinda like that one dude from that second Hobbit movie who could turn into a bear.

By the way do Hobbits exist in the Real World? I think it would be fun to be friends with them.

Anyway, and maybe my dragon form’s horde would be…well, every time I see like horse merchandise I wanna buy it so bad no matter what it is so maybe anything horse related like how I had a lot of that stuff around the Kendom. I mean, I still kinda do have that stuff but it’s more…contained. Just in my room of the Kens’ Mojo Dojo Casa House. *gasp!* Oh my gosh like a HORDE!

As far as the colors go, what if my eyes were gold? That sounds so cool. And I REALLY like the idea of light blue with pink stripes. But not like racing stripes but something sorta like tiger stripes but not. Just like the vibe of tiger stripes, ya know. That just looks more…natural and animal-y. 

And honestly? I kinda think drag-Ken is funny, but the G to K kinda throws me off when reading it out loud. So I went to one of the libraries around Barbie Land, and I learned that one of the ways to say dragon in a different Real World language and probably a Barbie Land language somewhere out there is drakon. 

And then I was like *snaps fingers* dude. Bingo. DraKen. That flows better for me personally, but you’re the one with the WIPs and the ideas so if you want it to be DragKen that’s up to you.

By the way, what are WIPs? I don’t think you mean like whipped cream because you never mentioned cream with the WIPs so I don’t know what those are. Maybe like dole whips? That’s a thing. Still different spelling though.

Anyway, what were we talking abo— oh yeah! Okay so I can I be a flying dragon? And will my wings be on my back or like connected to my arms? I really want wings. I don’t wanna be a wingless dragon; I don’t really know how those count. Except that one tiny, red dragon in that one Disney movie. He counts; I’ll accept that.

Oh dude I kinda went overboard, but I got so excited *chuckles* but hopefully this helps get your creative juices going more! @gender-kenvy

[clickbeetle]

perhaps i am just ignorant but how in the hell do coffee beans come in different flavors? you go to the store to buy coffee grounds and suddenly have to choose between Donut Shop and Breakfast Blend and Mojo Maker and Fuckemup Funtimes and Brain Blaster Sippy Juice like aren’t they all just. beans? are coffee beans not all the same?

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

i apologize for the text wall you are about to recieve i'm facing my fears of being an annoyance in the inbox

hey what do i do when i have several fixations happening all at once

my madcom keeps coming into the house because its cold but then goes back out because yay snow

the funkin won't leave the pantry because i keep coming back to the Tall Modded Men

deltarune deltarune deltarune deltarune

undertale is returning with a baseball bat because it refuses to be left behind in my elementary days (i promise you my AU content won't be based on fanon i've been tracking little details in the game i'm not cring pleas e don't sentence me to the swamp of sin)

im not sure if i'm going back to my fnaf phase i'm just very fond of the sundrop models i find on VRChat

MINECRAFT!!1!1!1!!!

and it doesn't help that i want (personally i have to i live off making silly little worlds with different stories and flavors) to make AU content the neurodivergent courses through my veins it will never end

this is a really good question that I don't see a lot of people asking so it's hard to find good advice for this

best advice I can give as a neurospicy individual is to not fight your attention span when it comes to hobbies. with school and work you don't have much of a choice but remember there are no deadlines or consequences in fandom

like I feel kinda bad for not having updated my two big fics in 2-3 months but y'know the juice just isn't there. I like quality and if I'm not interested it won't be quality. I try to keep my blog madcom focused because that's what people followed me for but trust me right now I'm all about my gta dude, sonic, batfam, mw2, and others I can't remember on top of madness combat

I can't give advice for artblock because I don't draw unless I absolutely want to, but for writing at least I find that outlining costs way less mental energy so even if I'm not putting together a new fic/chapter, I can still plan to with relative ease

but yeah neurodivergence doesn't always mean there's something wrong, sometimes it just means your brain works different and I don't think it's productive to try and force it to work another way. do what sparks joy. if your ideas are cringe, kill the cop in your brain because the entire premise of madcom would sound cringe if a 12 year old described it as their superhero backstory. what makes or breaks a story is the presentation of it, not the idea itself

also feel free to combine things you're fixating on. I was on a horror kick, decided to incorporate it with fandom (have not finished it because oh my god horror is so hard to write)

having people to bounce ideas off of is really helpful too because it can help you focus more on that one thing, as I'm sure you saw with the AU I'm working on right now. feel free to yell about stuff in my inbox if you'd like, don't know all those fandoms but I'm happy to listen

music also helps with focus, find a song that fits the vibe of what you want out of your work and set it to repeat. normal behavior I know but it worked for me

ultimately, don't stress. the mojo comes and goes, it's more cooperative if you are. fandom isn't a job or any sort of obligation and you can write, draw, headcanon whatever you want. sometimes multitasking is helpful because you can step back from something and then come back refreshed after working on another thing

hope this makes sense because it feels all over the place but yeah that's basically what I've learned to do

[jaioes]

✧˖°. get to know me game .°˖✧ rule: name 1 of your favourite movie, character, animal, drink, song, season, book, colour, hobby I'm super indecisive so this will be a mess movie: but I'm a cheerleader , fanfic , spider verse.

character: the black brothers(the hold gary oldman sirius had over my kid brain, i wanted to be him so bad). 10th doctor and the old man from the little prince.

animal: i have no favourite but i love rats (shoutout to my chaos) and cats. and goats.pygmy goats specifically .

drink: mango juice. i fucking love mango.

song: as the world caves in by Matt Maltese. It cant explain how beautiful this song is. it reminds me of episode 3 for the last of us

season: autumn. no overstimulation, perfect weather. rain .

book: i dont really have a favourite book, im super into hell followed with us right now but i havent finished it yet. i more have favourite parts of books. the top one would be

"I must not fear.Fear is the mind-killer.Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.I will face my fear.I will permit it to pass over me and through me.And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain." - Dune

colour: green and yellow. very sterotypical im aware .

hobby: i do play guitar but i refuse to name that as a main hobby, its too mojo dojo casa house. i read a lot, i love watching films (sounds generic ik ik)

no pressure tagging-@ anyone who wants to cause I've spent 5 minutes panicking over tagging people lol

(im aware i picked like 3 things of everything instead of one, fight me)

[inposterumcumgaudio]

Poedit Cut/Unused Content: A Malpractice of Doctors

Was curious if we were ever meant to know specifically what becomes of Gemma, so here's 300some entries of medical merriment. These are all under Gathering_of_Doctors. Arthur's lines are bold.

001 Hum. No receptionist.

4 - 24 (minus 23, "Gin!") is the conversation between the three Doctors about Gemma and her notes.

046 There's no other way across to the blockade controls. I'm going to have to become a test subject.

047 Ohhhh, I hope I don't regret this.

049 Let's see what I can do to this with my trusty frammistat.

This PA announcement is separate all the rest of them and refers to a cut part of the quest.

048 Attention all staff. One of our test subjects has been found unconscious. A Downer may be running loose in the facility. Please consider him armed and dangerous. Be on your guard.

049 HE'S OPENED THE STREET BLOCKADES! SHUT THE SHUTTERS! CLOSE ALL THE SHUTTERS!

049a I can't just flip the switch. I'm going to have to mangle this mechanI'm good and proper. Extract some parts, for example.

050 CODE BLUE! CODE BLUE!

052 Sorry, sir, There's no visitors to the Health at the moment. They are preparing for a convention of sorts.

053 Well, there's no point in my going in there, anyway. Not till I get a frammistat from the Department of Scientific Something Or Other.

054 Oh, for heaven's sake. Maybe there's another way in.

56 - 70 is the conversation between the woman and the Doctor when you come out of the checkpoint, where she's mad about the pie shop being quarantined.

071 Sounds like I better round up a frammistat myself, or I've got a long wait ahead of me.

071a First stop: Department of Scientific Research.

072 Well, isn't this a sparkling affair. I didn't know we even had this many doctors.

074 I hope I have enough mojo. This is the last place I want them to sniff me out.

076 Well, this should be fun. A building full of fanatics who can smell me. Naked among wolves.

78 - 104 are PA announcements. Just included the cut ones.

094 The quarantine floor is currently under quarantine. If you need access to the quarantine floor, please see Dr. Milton for a keycard.

100 Don't miss the closing party at the Deaf Institute! All attendees are invited, along with their wives. Rumour has it that the Make Believes will be performing, but you didn't hear that from me.

102 If you need your Uncle Jack fix, there is a television in the nurses' break room. If you're very nice, the nurses may even let you watch!

104 Dr. Arnold, your wallet has been found at registration. Please see Sophia Jex-Blake for its return.

106 I need to get to the quarantine floor.

108 How do I get to the elevator? I don't think I want to mingle with this crowd.

110 Oh, bugger. I'm going to have to go up into the rafters, aren't I.

112 I really, really hate heights.

114 Why is the safest route always in the ceiling? it's because God hates me, isn't it.

116 Oh, of course. The quarantine floor is under quarantine.

118 I sort of doubt Dr. Milton is going to give me a keycard. Maybe there's one in his office.

120 - 138 is Dr. Defoe's musing aloud.

Dr. Ridgwell's demonstration was originally longer and more detailed.

144 We thought that if we applied electrical stimulation to the Broca's Area, we might enable the subject to speak. Which would have proved obviously useful.

140 So that was rather disappointingly inconclusive.

142 However, our next electrode proved far more interesting.

146 We had a subject in stage 1 of the plague, just beginning to revert to Old English.

148 We even had a linguist ready to translate.

150 But we obtained a very odd result. I'll just use a bit of juice here.

152 WEANA GEHWELCNE!

154 As you can see, the patient immediately goes into the well known late stage plague frenzy.

156 Removing the stimulus returns the subject to catatonia.

158 Re-applying the stimulus again...

160 SIDRA SORGA!

162 An interesting side-effect of stimulating the brain in this manner is that the development of the plague seems to be accelerated quite a bit.

164 Although the subject was in Stage 1 at the application of the stimulus, she was in Stage 3 after only half an hour of repeated stimuli. Normally the transition takes days.

166 FROFRE NE WENAN!

168 Oh dear. I see that my subject has expired. Ah, well. That concludes my presentation. I'll be taking questions after we've all had our lunches. Enjoy!

170 Well, I'd better get going before someone notices I'm not wearing a hat.

172 Now, Dr. Hardy, where do you keep your keycards?

174 No, that's not it! It doesn't work that way.

176 I have it in my office! I'll find it and bring it to you. You just -- I'll come find you.

178 I could swear it was on my desk.

180 Well, then it must be in my desk.

182 Where is it? My filing cabinet?

184 Ohhhh, I feel so stupid. Where is it?

186 "No, those are the nuts." But what's the setup?

188 Damn it. Where did I put my book of party jokes?

190 Aha! The keycard! Off to quarantine I go! Yay.

A little jumbled at this point, but it looks like Arthur would swap places with a female plague victim, pretend to have plague himself, and participate in the Coconut experiment on purpose in order to get to the other side of the quarantine grid.

192 That's the quarantine grid!

194 ... On the other side of the thick plexiglas. I need a way to get over there.

195 Ahhh, there you are! We've been waiting for you.

196 So I have to go through the Quarantine Ward. That doesn't sound terribly jolly.

197 Just get in the nice, comfy chair, please.

198 How long until the coconut Joy takes effect?

199 There we go. Lovely.

200 Give it a few minutes. Or you could just ask her if it's a lovely day.

202 All my conversations with plague subjects are rather one-sided.

204 Why, can't you speak Old English? it's easy. Semper ubi sububi. Wellington Wells omnis divisa est in five islands. Hah hah hah hah ha.

206 Have you ever ridden it yourself?

208 I don't particularly want to see the stimuli, do you?

210 The Test Alley is the quickest way to Ward B. Otherwise you have to walk all the way downstairs, and across, and through the--

212 I'd rather not see the stimuli. Especially the final one. Whatever it is.

214 There's some sort of ... ride? To the other side? That's handy.

215 I wonder how I get on it?

216 Well, she seems ... sort of dead tired. Maybe she'd rather avoid the stimuli, too.

218 Well, then. In the interest of science, I think we'd better replace her, hadn't we? Why yes, I think we better. After you. No, after you.

220 Uh, I better hide her, first, though, right?

222 There we go. Sleep tight! When you wake up... well, you'll still have plague, I guess.

224 There we go.

226 Oh ... I hope they don't remember their subject was a woman. Should have thought of that earlier. Huh.

228 There, I hope that isn't too unpleasant. However bad the plague is, it has got to be better on Joy, hasn't it?

230 Odd. I could have sworn you were a girl.

232 You seem fairly healthy. Are you sure you've got the plague?

234 Uh ... Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote. The droghte of March hath perced to the roote

236 Well, that's all right then.

238 Now, Doctor Brooks is going to bring in a series of disturbing stimuli.

240 Hopefully with the coconut Joy I've given you, you won't be a bit bothered.

242 We won't actually see the stimuli. There's a blind between us and you, and a blind between you and the stimuli. It's what we call a "double blind experiment."

244 And, ah, Zephyrus eke with his sweete breeth, Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

246 Superb.

248 Off you go. Don't forget to write! Hah hah. That's my little joke. I know you've forgotten how to write.

250 That's a rather strong reaction. I hope the equipment is properly calibrated.

252 Oh, dear. The coconut's not terribly effective at all, is it? don't tell anyone I said that.

254 Another strong reaction. Intriguing. I almost wish I knew what the stimuli are myself! Almost.

256 I'm glad I'm not the one taking you out of the chair.

258 Quite mysterious. Most of the subjects have a very strong negative reaction to the fifth stimulus, whatever it is.

260 Did you enjoy our little fun ride? I hope so.

262 HAFELON MULTON!

264 Oh, dear. You were only supposed to be in stage 2. I hope the ride didn't progress your condition.

266 BURSTON BANLOCAN!

268a I'M DONE WITH MY EXAMINATION, DOCTOR. YOU CAN LET ME OUT NOW.

270 Oh, I'm sorry, Doctor. That would break quarantine.

272 SEONOWE ONSPRUNGON!

274 I REALLY MUST INSIST THAT YOU LET ME OUT, DOCTOR.

276 I don't have the authority to do that, Doctor.

278 THEN PLEASE GO FETCH SOMEONE WHO DOES. I'M IN HERE WITH A STAGE 3 PLAGUE PATIENT.

280 DR. KIPLING?

282 DR. KIPLING?

284 LET ME OUT NOW, PLEASE!

286 Attention all staff. A Downer with plague has escaped from the test labs! Please consider him armed and dangerous. Be on your guard!

288 - 306 is the part after the test where the Doctors can't get the button to work.

Additional notes:

Arthur may have been meant to be afraid of heights at a point?

The "ride" actually was a ride earlier on, as opposed to the metaphor that it is now.

Either there was some back and forth in dev on which Doctor actually had the keycard to the quarantine grid or - funnerer option - the quarantine grid originally required multi-user authentication to unlock and there were multiple keycards that had to be collected.

No word on Gemma, unless she was meant to be the female plague victim. Nothing saying that though so we're free to imagine a better ending for her.

[chancedarling]

[TW: Animal Death]

Good to know. Was Chance's first thought as Zaid confessed to being 'out of juice'. Two quick blasts and then running on empty (yes, he is sniggering in the privacy of his own head at the childish and crude implication). As long as the first coupld of potshots could be avoided, then this dazzling destructive power was... Somewhat negatable. It occurs that many of the abilities on the island worked the same way. No-name puppy guy had practically passed out after imbuing Chance with all of his healing mojo. And here was Zaid, too pooped to party after that quick and brutal expenditure.

Regardless as to whether the abilities were physical or mental, they did seem to take a toll. He has to wonder, if there were any other side effects not immediately visible. Like an alcoholic slowly damaging their liver. Something that with use - prolonged or heavier with time - would have other -- consequences. Something to bear in mind...

But watching the hornet fall. Spark and crackle with the not insubstabtial damage Zaid's second blast had caused... He masks a grin at the blurted apology. It certainly sounded like the thing was in pain. That there was some amount of suffering there - mechanoid or not... It could - feel.

Chance takes the opportunity to make a quick dart toward the treeline, searching the ground for only a moment before he's running back with a branch. Heavy enough to knock whatever excuse Zaid had for brains out of his ears for sure... But he instead uses it to rush the downed hornet. Bringing the branch down with as much force as he can muster - hopping slightly as that tail lashed wildly in the vicinity of his bony shins.

Jumping back slightly, the branch is raised again - poised. But with a few final spasmodic twitches... A few sparks and crackles... The thing finally falls still.

It's a skillful contortion of his face into something resembling a mixture of horror, shock and grief.

"Me Da' hit a dear with a transit van once. I just remember it was screaming. And he got out the van and battered it's head."

There's a sharp intake of breath. The branch still raised.

"Said there wasn't anything we could do. It was gonna die and it was in pain. Said it was kinder to put it out of it's misery."

Of course it was. Even Chance isn't enough of a monster to let a creature suffer (people on the other hand...)

The branch drops and he takes a couple of quick steps back as a few more sparks fizzle within. Milking the moment for every ounce of drama he can while taking the time to examine the thing in front of him... Gaguing size and weight and the dynamics required to make one of these things fly...

"Is it? I mean. Was... Was that kinder?"

He askes in a stuttering, hiccup of a voice, finally turning back to Zaid, as though the has the answers. Obviously he doesn't but this is - perhaps - a good opportunity for some 'morality' building in the eyes of the other.

Zaid nodded in sympathy, as Chance pointed out - reminded, really - about the tiger-beast's attack on him. Perhaps Chance considered the hornets the lesser evil. If either animal or machine could really be called 'evil'; but again that was a moral relativism debate for another day. Chance's finicky need to dissect words to the bone was starting to rub off on Zaid, he thought in some mild amusement.

When the hornets took their broken compatriot back to the mist, Chance didn't leave his side, and Zaid turned then to look at the forest itself.

"Lived here..." he repeated, trying to wrap his head around that new and somewhat gruesome idea, not realizing Chance was disdaining everything he was saying. Chance didn't have answers, neither of them did. Zaid wasn't afraid to be wrong about things he didn't understand; which was why he thought aloud. Right or wrong, at least sharing ideas (even bullshit nonsense ones open to disagreement) was to Zaid at least, a start.

And perhaps even his method of collaborating was faulty, not just his ideas. Perhaps he truly had no useful suppositions to voice.

So if Chance instead, could elegantly glean a superior, sensible view and much more productive understanding? Then as far as Zaid was concerned, he'd be grateful for it.

There as one hornet left. It was delicately scraping at the ground where the tiger-beast was trying to fend off the drone-gang before. It looked like it was...collecting the blood-stained dirt with one of its legs, scratching them together like a bee to stick the bloody-mud onto its hind legs. Like a bee collecting pollen?

It completely ignored them, pausing in its strange scritching-collecting to once again make patterned, chirping sounds with its wings. Once again, like a communication pattern.

Then as it seemed satisfied with its activities and whatever it 'communicated', it flew up into the air. Zaid took that moment to focus once again, and shoot heated energy-plasma-snot at the thing, but it wasn't quite enough.

The hornet didn't collapse decimated and dead like the last one. Wires spilled out of it, sparks flew, and the thing lay on its side on the ground and spasmed wildly, lights flashing and its TV-screen face shattered.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," Zaid said, unclear what the apology was for, other than the sight of a robot still thrashing, still dangerous if one got too close. "I'm - it's like a battery. Once I'm out, it's like I've got to recharge again." Zaid looked at his cooling hands, and shook his head at the writhing robot.

"I don't know what to do with that. Maybe it'll just...stop working?" He didn't know.

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Searching For Inspiration

Masterlist

A/N:  Ah, first time writing Eddie Munson. Might be OOC? I have no idea. I’m just exhausted and winging it. I kind of gave up on this near the end. Sigh, idk. my mojo is vanishing. 

Special thanks to the @wint3r-h3art who helped my brain do things to make words for this

Pairings/Characters:  Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Eddie being a goofy goober, swears; crack, fluff, drabble, mess? idfk

Summary: Eddie needs inspiration as the Dungeon Master, and he finds himself in your domain to find it.

Eddie Munson couldn’t fight this feeling anymore. He had hit a dry spell, so to speak, and he needed something to really get his creative juices flowing. It was going to be his final campaign at Hawkins High, the culmination of all of his years of work, and he really needed to make sure everything was to his standard of perfect. However, he just couldn’t quite figure out what was missing.

Eddie found himself at the local library in Hawkins in search of inspiration. If he couldn’t figure it out, which was insane given his own amount of creativity he harbored, then he was going to look to some of the greats.

He threw open the library doors with a loud bang, disturbing everyone and prompting the librarian to hit him with a glare and a shushing sound that made his skin crawl. He shot her a toothy smile, bowed his head apologetically, and let the doors fall to a close behind him. Eddie  clasped his hands behind his back as he walked down the aisles, peering over people’s shoulders to see what they were reading.

Then, he’d stop and stand in a corner or in an aisle somewhere, one arm draped across his front, the other resting over it with his fingers on his chin as he studied people. Perhaps people could give him the inspiration he needed if he couldn’t find it in a book.

No. No, of course not. What was he thinking? They were all too ‘normal’ here, so average and boring and nothing remarkable in the slightest. This meant that there was only one thing left to do, he really, truly needed to hit the books.

He went through the aisles without a care. He picked up a book, skimmed it, deemed it to be unworthy of the power of his campaign, and would haphazardly toss it over his shoulder. Sometimes it landed on a cart of books, a nearby table, on the floor, or, rarely, it even made it back onto the shelf, just in the wrong place, backwards ,or possibly just laying open against it. He went through the aisles without any regard for the books as his main focus was the sanctity of his campaign.

This left one unfortunate library employee to happen upon his mess, but have no idea what was causing it. 

You were baffled. You had just swept the aisles. Sure, a few loose ones here and there, but, otherwise, things were perfect. How, in the time it went for you to take a quick snack break, did things suddenly become so chaotic? All your hard work was falling apart within seconds, and now you were racing around the library trying to find the culprit.

You could hear humming, what had to have been a rock ballad, and the sound of pages being flipped through rapidly. You rounded the corner and found your misery. There were books on the floor, on top of the shelves. It looked like a hurricane hit. You stopped for a moment to see what was happening, and you could see a tall, young man with a curly mane of hair to make a lion envious. He was leaning on his side against a bookshelf, flipping through a few pages of Christine before chucking the book on another shelf.

It burned you.

Huffing and puffing, you picked up every book he had tossed and placed them onto your cart as you charged towards him. He was utterly oblivious as another book went sailing over the aisle, the waist of his jacket flailing out behind him as he continued to sashay down the aisle.

The only thing that truly alerted him to another presence was the sound of wheels turning rapidly and headed right in his direction. He spun around dramatically, and was immediately caught like a deer in headlights. His soft, sweet eyes illuminated and grew big as he saw you storming towards him, an enraged look on your face that he swore showed actual fire burning in your eyes. He smiled brightly as the cart screeched to a halt next to him and you stood tall in front of him, one hand on your waist, the other clutching the handle of the cart until the knuckles were screaming against your skin.

“M’lady—“

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You hissed, yelling, funny enough, in a sort of whisper as you glared at him.

“Huh?”

“Were you raised in a barn?” you cocked your head to the side. “I mean, really. Do you even know where you are?”

“Last I checked, this was the Hawkins Town Library, so — “

“Oh, good, you know something!” you whispered harshly. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Staring at a really, really pretty and angry chick,” he beamed. “You’re very pretty when you’re all angry and stuff.”

You had opened your mouth, ready to insult him no matter what he had said. However, when you heard him say you were pretty, your mouth shut and your cheeks burned hotly as his words replayed in your head a dozen times over in a matter of seconds. 

Using this to his advantage, he took one large step towards you and stuck out his hand, “Eddie Munson, m’lady.”

“I know who you are,” you muttered, sticking your hand out to him. “Y/N L/N.”

He leaned forward and kissed the top of your hand before standing up straight again, the grin never leaving his face as he watched your eyes widen and you raise your other hand to rest against your cheek to feel if it was actually burning as much as you thought it was. “It is truly my pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You blinked a few times before remembering what your mission was after you caught sight of a book on the floor. You huffed and yanked your hand away to rest on your hip once again, your eyes quickly scanning the other books in disarray before pointing them at Eddie, “Why are you tossing books around the library? This is a library not some baseball field or something! The books should be treated with respect.”

He looked around and it seemed like he finally saw what exactly he had been doing this entire time. His mouth fell open slightly before it settled in a straight line, bearing all his teeth to you as he slowly turned back to face you after seeing the damage. “I’m sorry. I did not realize I did that.”

“Are you serious?”

“I was just looking for a little inspiration for my campaign. See, I run the Dungeons and Dragons club, it’s a — “

“I know what it is,” you sighed.

He beamed, “That is seriously very attractive. Anyway, I run the club. I’m the dungeon master, and I need to make my next session absolutely amazing. I’m just looking for that special something to make this side-quest episode really ,really memorable.”

“Oh, well, maybe you can make it an episode about cleaning up after themselves and respecting public property,” you quipped as you pushed the cart past him and went to clean up the rest of the books. “All good stories have a lesson in there somewhere.”

“Uh-huh,” he trailed off as he fell against the bookshelf and watched you storm away from him. He sighed dreamily, hands coming up to clutch his heart as he watched you round the corner and disappear. Suddenly, he gasped and clutched the bookshelves next to him in dramatic fashion. “I’ve got it. They’re going to save the beautiful, fiery princess who spends her entire days in books reading and writing stories in a cavern — no, a stone castle filled from floor to ceiling with treasured books. She’ll have unbridled rage and fury and be so, so, sooo hot.”

Eddie sighed happily to himself, content with his conclusion. “Yes. They’ll save her from the evil dragon — no, the evil sorcerer who wants to sacrifice her to Vecna. YES! That’s it! And she’ll be all mine and say I’m her hero and  — I mean, uh…”he cleared his throat and scratched is head. “I’m not in the campaign. Right. I’m just gonna go home now…”

[mojo-chojoo]

welcome on my current temporary blog as the main one is hidden because of a oopsie daisy i did (forgor to crop out a part of my fanart i should have oops)

my name is Mojo Chojo, you can call me Mojo!

any pronoun! she/he/they/or even potato i couldn’t care less

here are all my links, info etc

this is my side blog with my bloodborne ocs

you can find all kind of art i make on the my art tag or mojo art

i also answer to some asks about art tips,

you can find them under the tag mojo brain juice

COMMISSION STATUS: open

commission info

CHARITY COMMISSION INFO

i try to reply to asks as much as i can but lately it’s been getting pretty busy (it’s not as easy bein a student as i would like it to be i cry) and i can’t answer to all of them so i’ll apologize in advance for all the unanswered asks (i do read all of them and they’re really fun to read so thank you for sending asks!)

i jump from one fan to another pretty fast and i am too lazy to make new blogs so this is gonna be a pretty big mush of random fanart and shitposting

i will try to update the masterpost when i can but i’ll try to do it frequently so it doesn’t get lost

if you want to see just art you can check my pixiv where it’s somewhat more organised

[a-baleful-howl]

So I’ve been following George RR Martins updates on his progress on Winds of Winter…because of course I have. His most recent update, going surprisingly more in depth than he has been lately, has caused quite a stir because he’s alluding that his ending and plot direction may have changed. And it has me in all sorts of emotions about it.

First, when the finale of GoT aired and it got a bunch of backlash, I hoped that that gave him “the best motivation I know of - spite.” Some of my best writing juices come from seeing a story done *in my opinion* badly, and I have this innate desire to correct it or make it better. I don’t know if this is what George is doing, or if just the fact that he’s taken such a long break from his story that his mind has changed, or his flow has simply taken him in a different direction. A person can change a lot in 10 years, and ideas that just live in the brain can fade away and be forgotten, sometimes to be found again or be lost forever.

When I wrote the Jonsa compendium, I added at the end that GRRM has every right and ability to change his mind now before the books are done and as he’s writing. So I’m not surprised or upset about it either. I find this to be an issue with “gardeners” or “pantsers”, but even “plotters” or “architects” can run into writers block resulting in changing directions, too.

The day after the finale, GRRM posted on his blog that (paraphrasing) “yes, this is the ending. The journey there will be slightly different, though. Afterall, how many children did Scarlet O’Hara have?” Which some fans took as him saying the ending will be different, but since Gone with the Wind is considered one of the best page to screen adaptations of all time, I took it as him saying that it’s still the same, but books have more details and time to cover small plot lines than TV shows. Details always get lost in the adaptations. (*cough secret tormented incest feelings and political Jon? cough*)

And I have to wonder, after GRRM admitted that this spin-off sequel show about Jon Snow was Kit Harrington’s idea, how much of “huh, I wonder what Jon does after the war. I never thought about that before.” has inspired George to write more, or go further down a certain path.

But this new blog post feels like, *to me*, to be much more deviation than just small details. To me it feels like even he is surprised at how much change has happened. And for all of us who have found and pointed out the subtle hints that could be leading to a Jon and Sansa endgame, what does that mean for us? If that was in fact what he was leading towards, has that changed in his mind as well? Honestly, we just have to wait and see.

Small side tangent: if I could ask GRRM any question, it would be about “curing” writers block. Not for the memes, or to kick him while he’s down, but because as a writer I would love to ask all writers this same question. (And I would hope that by answering it, it might give him that motivation to break through his own.) It appears to me that he’s got his mojo back for the moment, and that mojo after being shelved for a decade has taken ahold of him in a new headspace, in a new world, and with the hindsight of seeing it done on screen without him. There’s still one more book after WoW, so fingers crossed we see where this new plot bunny has taken him off to all the way to the end, but I know from experience that sometimes the idea of starting another massive book immediately after finishing one feels like getting pregnant again immediately after giving birth. Sometimes your brain just needs a break.

[wehowl-arch2]

          “Yeet as a spell would be fantastic. Magic isn’t really a tool in my wheelhouse but I’d love to see a yeet being yeeted.” Shut up, Reese. Shut up shut up shut up. She cleared her throat and then glanced around. A cafe sounded wonderful and she was quite hungry. Using up too much Visitor juice and getting brain attacked by WEDS could do that to a girl. Sure, something could be said about stranger danger going off with some random lady who could snap necks at a wave of a hand, but Reese never claimed to make smart impulse decisions. Besides, until her own mojo recovered from the WEDs, being with a magical neck-breaking lady was currently safer than on her own. Especially if more Explorers show up. “Cafe sounds good but - uh - what about them?” Reese ashed, waving a hand at the dead bodies. “Shouldn’t we…. hide them? Where’s a carriage of hay when you need it. Ezio never has this problem.” she paused and offered the woman an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous. Feel free to ignore 90% of what I say. Most of it doesn’t usually make sense to people anyway.”

               “I usually go for efficient when snapping neck, but a little more style wouldn’t hurt,” she says dryly, head tilting. Catching up on the modern slang feels like climbing a never-ending mountain. “In such case, I suppose yeet could be used as a spell; if you put enough conviction into it and if you want to yeet instead of being yeeted badly enough. I certainly do.” Not that it will matter to her – the woman is clearly no witch. But she is no human, either, nor anything Freya has come across before. Which is perhaps why she is still here, listening to the ramble. “I see.” Explorers explain nothing and that is even a better reason to say. For all their differences, Klaus and her certainly share THE PARANOIA; and if there is a new faction forming in New Orleans Freya has heard nothing of, that is a cause of investigation. “I cannot say chocolate is something I carry, no, but there is a rather charming café just around the corner. Shall we?”

[queenmuzz]

So, anyways, I saw something @liulyam had posted for Spardaverse a while back I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THEIR WONDERFUL ART FORGIVE ME! Anyways, I saw specifically THIS piece of art, and it sent the brain juices into overdrive....

So, the same thing plays out everyday. Nero gets off the school bus and runs in, backpack flying, and tells his uncle excitedly about his day at school, before racing up the stairs to tell his dad the same thing, in the same adorably animated manner. Unfortunately, Vergil doesn’t respond the same way as Dante, sitting still, not even acknowledging that the boy is talking to him. Initially, Nero doesn’t mind, understanding his recently rescued father has been through a lot, and needs time and patience to recover. But as the months pass by, Dante notices that his nephew doesn’t run up the front steps as eagerly, his descriptions of school become shorter, paler. And most worryingly of all, Nero spends less and less time with Vergil, preferring to peek his head in the man’s room, sigh, and slowly make his way to his own room, closing the door sullenly.

“What’s going on Nero?” Dante takes the plunge and asks him one day, before the boy trudges up the stairs. “You haven’t been that rambunctious ball of energy lately.”

Nero kicks the worn hardwood floor. “It’s dad… I know you told me I need to be patient,” his face scrunches up at the word, it’s a thing he’s never been able to truly do. He’s definitely a Sparda boy. “But he just keeps ignoring me. He won’t talk, won’t even look at me. It’s like I don’t even exist! Maybe...maybe he doesn’t want me to exist-”

“Hey now!” Dante needs to nip this train of thought in the bud. He knows first hand where it can lead to. Had he not found Nero nearly nine years ago, while wandering the world, drinking up every bar’s entire inventory in a vain attempt to fill a void in his chest, who knows where he would have ended up? “Your dad...well, even without the stuff he’s been through, he was never much of a talker. Always preferred to have his actions speak for him.” “But that’s the thing, Uncle Dante!” Nero blurts out, close to tears. “He DOESN’T DO ANYTHING!!! He doesn’t care!” And with that, Nero bolts up the stairs, past Vergil’s room, not even checking up on him, and slams his bedroom door with such force, Eva’s portrait wobbles on the desk and tips over. Dante sighs, sets his mom back up, and slowly makes his way up the stairs. Not to Nero’s room; Dante knows better than to provoke that tiger cub when he’s in an ornery mood. It’s time to talk to his dad.

Vergil, or what’s left of him, is sitting in an oversized chair, the only one that fits his giant frame, facing the window, the only one in the place with a view. If he’s heard the ruckus (and Dante knows he has), he makes no indication that it affects him.

“Verg,” he calls out, “I know it's been rough, I know I piled on a lot of shit on you, the whole thing about having a kid and everything these past nine years. I’m not expecting you to just snap back to normal, and start insulting me like in the good old days, but…” Dante’s not good at this sort of thing. He’d rather Royal Guard his emotional turmoil. It used to be with alcohol, but now it’s with a cheery smile. “The kid needs a sign that you’re still there, you’re still fighting. I know you are, hell, you’re the one that helped me take down that bastard Mundus on Mallet Island. But that’s the thing, Nero’s only heard things that you’ve done, not seen them. You need to show him yourself, otherwise…” Vergil makes no motion, and even Dante, stubborn as he is, knows it’s fruitless to continue much more, “you’re gonna lose him too.” And then Dante heads back downstairs, to see if he can whip up a snack to bribe his nephew to come out of his lair. Strange, he swears he hears the rustle of fabric from Vergil’s room, as if his brother had just moved.

--

Nero sits at Dante’s desk, working on his math homework. It’s his least favourite thing, fractions. Uncle Dante is a whiz at them, and usually would be able to help him, but he’s gone out on an ‘Really quick, won’t be more than a half hour’ errand run. It’s been nearly two hours, and the only other adult here is his dad… so Nero is practically by himself.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck prick up, and he hears scrabbling at the front door. He’s still not allowed to go out with Uncle Dante or Auntie Lady on their hunts, but he knows what a demon feels like, especially when there are a lot of them. ESPECIALLY when they’re really powerful Instinctively, he grabs a chair, and wedges it underneath the door knob, and looks around in a panic. He’s never had to deal with a demon attack by himself before. He remembers his uncle has a case of weapons that he was told to NEVER touch beside the jukebox, but Nero figures that he can say sorry to his uncle later. He smashes the lock with a billiard ball, and yanks open the lid. He’s disappointed. He thought there would be a treasure trove of swords and guns, but all there are two swords, one red and one blue. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, and the whine of protesting wood ends with a thunderous CRASH, and demons pour through. “FIND THE HERETIC GOD SLAYER!” One says, before turning in Nero’s direction. Without much warning, it shrieks as it launches at him with razor sharp obsidian claws.

Nero might be little, but his uncle has trained him well. Whipping the two blades around, they connect the monster’s waist in a pincer move, and like a pair of scissors, bisect it in a shower of blood and ash. Nero swears he hears a voice (or is it two voices?) approvingly say, “Impressive!” but doesn’t have a chance to savour his very first demon kill as another demon comes at him, knocking him over. The reddish gold blade clatters away on the floor, way out of reach, not that it matters. Nero’s pinned to the ground by a skeletal foot, as the demon lifts a blade to impale him. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the end.

The final blow never comes. Instead, he hears shriek, and the pressure on his chest instantly subsides. He opens his eyes, to see it stagger back, its decapitated head clattering to the floor. Its brethren likewise are either dead or dying, their high pitched screams shattering the glass in the jukebox.

Nero’s first thought is that his Uncle has finally come home, Dante’s come to save me! But what’s odd is that there’s no sound of Dante’s beloved Ebony and Ivory. And last he checked, his uncle never was able to shoot out blue ghostly blades that now impale most of the horde. But it doesn’t matter, because his uncle is here to save the day! That is, until he yelps as he’s quickly, but not roughly picked up and held as whoever holds him spirits him out of the building, the blue blade still clutched in his hand. Nero begins to panic, but hears a voice, almost like a croak, as if the vocal cords had been in disuse for years…

Nero

And even though the voice is harsh sounding, it's one of the most comforting things Nero’s ever heard.

--

Of course that half hour errand run would turn out to be three hours. But when he was promised a free pizza for clearing out that demon nest on the West side, Dante couldn’t say no. Besides, he’d pick up some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home as a way of apologising to Nero. The kid might be cross with him, but he’d forgive him the moment he smelled those chewy biscuits. Dante might even let him have more than half of the package.

So when he gets home to find his front door smashed open, his office trashed, and worst of all his jukebox shattered-wait no, worst of all, his nephew missing, all thoughts of pizza and cookies vanish from his mind as he rushes in, guns drawn. There’s no sign of life, but the black splatters of demonic ichor painting the walls shows that some real bad mojo went down here. The strangest thing though, is Agni, a weapon Dante was definitely sure he had under lock and key, laying there on the ground, alone.

“Alright, time to spill your guts” he yanks the blade up so that he’s at eye level with the pommel, “What the hell happened here?” Agni makes the same response as Vergil. Which means silence.

“I swear to…” he pulls out ivory, and presses the muzzle into the (more troubled than usual looking face), “You’re gonna tell me what went down, or we’re gonna see how many bullets I can jam into your ugly mug.” “You told us to remain silent.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, consider that rule temporarily relaxed.” “There was an attack.” Agni starts, its distorted voice unusually agitated, “The little one fought with great valour, but eventually even he was overwhelmed.” Dante’s blood goes cold. “But then a great bulk of a demon came out and slaughtered the attacking filth, and spirited the boy away, alongwith my brother.”

“Rudra’s still with Nero?” That’s odd, if they were trying to capture the kid, they’d disarm him first.

“Yes, they are not far, I think they’ve stopped moving.”

“Alright,” Dante makes his way out of the disfigured wood, “let’s go find the kid and your bro...and if he’s alright, maybe I’ll reconsider giving back your talking privileges.” “Oh, that would be wonderful, will you allow us to leave the dark box? It’s been so long since we’ve fought, we crave batt- ”

“I said IF, and I won’t guarantee anything if you keep jabbering on and on.”

--

Angi directs the demon hunter to a dark secluded alleyway, a few blocks from Devil May Cry. One hand on its hilt ready for attack, the other fingering the trigger of Ivory, he cautiously makes his way past the recently overturned garbage cans, to a shadow alcove, where a shadow crouches. Beside it is Rudra, glowing faintly, it’s turquoise blue light providing enough illumination for Dante to make out what has happened. There’s Nero, peacefully slumbering away, apparently unharmed, not even his shirt is torn. And holding him gently, stroking his downy white hair with a giant hand...is Vergil… And for once, even though he is still staring straight ahead, there’s a different look on his face, a sense of contentment.

Huh Dante thinks to himself as he holsters the weapons, I was right, actions DO speak louder than words.

[clotpolesonly]

2021 Fic Year In Review

i was tagged by @rhyslahey, @inell, AND @luulapants so i guess i gotta do the thing now alkjdfg 😂

Total number of completed works: 32, which is more than i thought tbh, but it’s mostly been because of the stiles shipping central discord server’s monthly ficlet exchange, soooo thanks for keeping me going when i otherwise had no motivation whatsoever.

Total word count: once i get the ficlet i’m working on now posted, it’ll be about 53k for the year. which.....is decent, i suppose. but i fall into the trap of comparing myself to my previous self, aaaaand it’s by FAR the least i’ve written annually since i started writing fic again after high school. like, almost 1/5 of my most prolific years. trying to remind myself consistently that it’s okay and even good to have periods of rest and lowered productivity, especially under the circumstances. my brain juice will return from the war eventually probably.

Fandoms written in: Teen Wolf and Merlin, which yeah it was kind of nice to foray briefly back into the latter!! hadn’t written for Merlin in a long time.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? my expectations for the year were pretty low, i think, after last year was also an extremely unproductive year and i wasn’t feeling much better about things. so, like, i wish i’d written more, but i’m also glad that i wrote anything cuz that was not guaranteed 😬😭😅

What’s your own favorite story of the year? honestly, none of the ones i’ve written this year stand out to me very much..... scanning through the list and it’s taking me EFFORT to even remember what some of them ARE, adlfkh. i guess if i had to pick one, i might say If We Exiled Our Sins?? i originated a pairing tag, first one to write it, and that’s pretty exciting lol. i think i like that fic a lot.

Did you take any writing risks this year? besides writing that pairing ^? not really, i don’t think. everything was pretty chill, low effort and low engagement, short and easy.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? write more, get my mojo back. try and write something longer than 7k. maybe even a multichap. i miss being able to write long stories 😭

Most popular story of the year? by hits, A Kiss To Remember (Merthur). by kudos, Reach Out, In Reach (Sterek). by bookmarks and comments, Love Is Blind And So Is Stiles (Sterek). by subscriptions, Kids, They Say (Stiles & puppy pack), which surprises and amuses me.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Things I Learned In The Storm maybe??? an Erica character study thing, which i quite liked but which got very little response.

Most fun story to write:  Love In The Age Of Sustainable Gardening Practices (Steter) was quite fun 😂

Most unintentionally telling story: uuuhhhh, i don’t think i projected much on any of my stories this year?? there wasn’t much substance to most of them, and 95% of them were based on prompts/requests from others, so they weren’t just things i felt compelled to put out there.

Biggest disappointment: i posted a couple of fics that were gifts for people who didn’t respond to them literally at all......so. that was fun. wonder if they read them......

Biggest surprise: talking myself into accidentally genuinely shipping Laura/Noshiko 🤣 

tagging: ......i can’t think of any writers whom i haven’t seen already get tagged aldkfjghadfg rip

[videcoeur]

Sorry for slow replies

Been working 50+ hours a week for the past 2-3 weeks and I have no brain juice. What little brain juice I have I gotta keep for work. Hopefully this will settle soon, but I think the reason I work so much is because the client I work for lost a writer so I’m the one pulling twice the amount of work to make deadlines : ) ) )

Which is good pay wise but uh,, i definitely need a break soon.

So, let it be known I am not ignoring any of you and I am still very much into our thread(s). I just really have no mojo left since I write words for a living and I’m all worded out when evening strike and I can finally relax. 

All I’ve been doing lately is Work like 8-10 hours a day, then binge watch stuff because I can’t use my brain anymore.

[armadillodecor]

🍒 setting intentions for your space 🌿

In the self help / spirituality / mental wellness world this word is used all the time and there’s a reason for that. You can’t begin to attain your goals if you don’t know what they are. Setting intentions is simply putting some side aside to communicate your goals to yourself clearly. These can be micro goals (my intention for today is to be gentle and gracious to myself) or macro (my intention for this year is to invest more deeply in my relationships). Sis, you can set intentions for your workout, for doing your dishes, for your creative sessions. I am working toward getting better at setting daily, weekly, monthly, yearly intentions more regularly - I like to sit down with some water, some music and my journal and really clearly communicate with myself. Because ✨ you can’t know where you want to go unless you consciously choose it ✨ the more you drill your goals into your head, the more they exist at the front of your mind and the easier it is to make moves to address them. This is science, my friends. 🌡🧬🧪 and here’s the trick: setting consistent and clear intentions is where they turn into manisfestations — because you can only speak your goals into existence and act on them consistently for so long before they 👏🏻 become 👏🏻 real 👏🏻 (but that’s for a different blog)

So how can we set intentions for our spaces?

You can make your space work for YOU by clarifying what you want the space to DO. Grab a piece of paper and list out the spaces in your home. Next to each one, write a verb that describes what you want each space to do for you. Mine look like this:

Bedroom: empower; rest

Studio: energize; creatively stimulate

Living Room: entertain; bring joy

Dining Room: create community

Kitchen: calm; cleanse; enrich

Bathroom: purify; empower

Backyard: create community; bring fun

So obviously a few of my spaces have overlapping descriptions. Also for a few, I couldn’t find the perfect verb so I cobbled together a crude description (bring fun? 😂) but simple and clear to you is more important than fancy verbs. You should be able to read your list and immediately and easily understand what you want from that space. And it’s okay if you want multiple things in a space — I want my bedroom to be a calm place for me to rest, but I also want it to make me feel sexy and powerful when I’m getting ready for my day or dressed for a date or dinner with friends! We will talk later about how to create your space to serve multiple functions.

This list is the first step in what I call ✨ spiritual decor ✨ Before you do any redecorating or soul searching, there are a few daily tricks you can start with to get the spiritual mojo flowing in your home to make this place the place that really helps you be the best version of yourself:

Use each space for its desired function! If you’re feeling like you need to wash off your crazy day and find a sense of clarity, go hop in the shower! If you feel like you need to get your creative juices flowing, relegate to your studio or workroom! I try to always journal, do my yoga and writing in my studio because sofa is for fun. Bed is for sleep (mostly😈). Obviously this isn’t a hard and fast rule, sometimes I’ll work outside in the sunshine, but the more often you do specific tasks in specific places, your brain will associate that place with that task and get you in the mood more immediately! That’s science, folks 👉🏻👩🏻‍🔬👉🏻

If the space isn’t functioning according to its intention, do a quick organize! The worst thing you can do is eat pizza 🍕 or dump your laundry 🧺 on your bed, or take off your muddy stinky clothes and leave them on the floor of your bathroom! (And trust me, these are lessons I had to drill into my brain) Help your spaces function the way you want to by not cluttering them with items meant for other spaces!

When you move to a specific space for a specific task, remind yourself of your intention. This is cheesy as hell, but it does help to speak your space intentions to yourself. Sometimes I will hop in the shower and say out loud, “I want to purify myself from the day I’ve had” and YALL. That shower becomes SO. SENSUAL. I can tell you.

The thing is we all already have intentions for our spaces — we go to specific rooms for specific things. We just don’t a. always have them named clearly in our minds and b. don’t always have them connected to the spiritual functions our homes serve. But if you can ~name~ them, it will become a lot easier for you to use your home not only for practical functions, but to fill your spiritual cup. 💫

In later blogs, we will start to look at how you can fill and decorate your homes to fulfill these intentions, but it’s not about stuff. You can do it right now with what you have. I challenge to you sit down for fifteen minutes this week and create your own list of intentions for your spaces. And follow my list of daily tricks to start to change how you feel about and operate within your home. I’ll be back soon to continue to share my secret treasure trove of advice ✨

All my love!

Dayna 🍒