#not that it really matches my feelings anymore

[inmyheaddd]

in the back of my mind - jameson hawthorne x reader

warnings -> em*ly is mentioned for like .2 seconds, little bit angst + arguing, happy ending i promise!! a/n -> jameson my baby ☹️ wc -> 1.2k masterlist

you slammed the door hard with a thud behind you, not really knowing where you were headed now, but just knowing you needed to be anywhere else but that godforsaken house. the almost screaming-match you had with jameson earlier had your ears almost ringing, and with a pounding headache that worsened every step.

without your permission, your mind repeated every moment on a loop. 

“jameson, just stop!” you care more about winning and your games than you do about me.”

“don’t say that,” he pleaded, taking a step towards you as you stepped back. “you know that’s not true.”

“well it feels like it’s true!” 

“this is who i am!” he gestured to himself with his hands. “you knew that from the very start, don’t be mad because you couldn’t “fix me.””

you scoffed, tears flooding your eyes momentarily but you forced them back. you had to. 

“seriously? that’s what you think this is about? this isn’t about me “fixing you,” it’s about the fact that i’m always going to be second to whatever game you’re playing!”

“it’s not a game, it’s—”

“what? ‘it’s your life’?” you predicted. he said the same thing every single time. “it’s a part of you? it’s something i wouldn’t understand?” you cut him off, scoffing and shaking your head as you crossed your arms. 

“you’re right, jameson, i don’t understand. i thought that— that maybe, maybe you’d —“ you cut yourself off with a frustrated sigh, pinching the in between of your eyebrows. you couldn’t even get the words out.

you shook your head, “god, i can’t do this anymore.” you muttered, more to yourself than to jameson. 

you remember the way worry flashed through jamesons eyes as you said those last words, before you turned on your heels.

and now you were here. 

the wind whipped through your hair as you sat on the cliff side, hugging your knees to your chest. 

you could barely hear anything over the roaring waves below, but maybe that’s what you needed; the noise, the chaos outside to drown out the one in your head.

there was only one voice who could’ve broken through. jamesons. 

“running away already?” you closed your eyes at the way voice cut through the wind, his usual biting sarcasm making you clench your fists tighter.

“go away, jameson,” you muttered, staring out at the dark horizon. you couldn’t even look at him.

“not happening.” his tone somewhat softened as he stepped closer. “you shouldn’t be out here.” he stood a foot or so away from you now, and you felt his gaze on you like a physical thing. 

your head whipped around to look at him, your frustration bubbling up and flashing through your eyes. “don’t tell me what i should or shouldn’t do. why do you suddenly care anyway?” 

he frowned, opening his mouth to probably throw out some retort, but then he suddenly stopped. 

his green eyes, that looked more black now, flicked to the cliffs behind you, and something shifted in his expression. he took a single staggering step back, his confidence that he always had gone in an instant.

he called out your name, but it sounded strained. “get away from the edge,” his was voice tight, like he fought to get the words out.

you blinked, suddenly taken aback. “what? jameson—”

“get away from the edge, goddamnit!” he never raised his voice like this, and his voice almost cracked. that was when you saw it—the fear. not the teasing, not the games, but real, raw fear in his eyes.

you quickly got up and stepped towards him, the waves crashing even harder against the shore now making it almost impossible to hear yourself. “jameson, what’s going on?”

he didn’t answer. his breathing quickened, his fists clenched, and his eyes fixed on the drop below, and you realized—he wasn’t seeing you anymore. 

he was somewhere else. emily. it was all over his face, in the way he stood. 

you should’ve known. you shouldn’t have come here.

you swallowed thickly, not knowing how to go about this. that girl had damaged him on a whole different level, he had just started to heal, and you single-handedly pushed it all back. 

“jameson,” you said cautiously, taking a tentative step towards him. “i’m—“ you shook your head, “i’m not her. everything’s okay, we’re okay.” 

he flinched, his hands shaking as he raked them through his hair. “i— i can’t—” his voice broken, and his eyes were glossy.

“you need to get away from the edge,“ he repeated, pointing to the dive below. 

“jameson,” you held his quivering hands in yours, shaking him slightly to get him to look at you. “i’m not on the edge, i’m here, with you.” 

his eyes locked on yours, shaking his head, he said, “step back, it’s not funny anymore.” 

the fear was palpable in his voice, and it made your eyes sting. he sounded so small, your heart broke into a million pieces. is this what it was like with her?

“jameson, stop!” you begged, your voice being the one cracking now, “you’re scaring me.” you shook your head, pleading for him to just see you. “i’m not emily.” 

your eyes were welling up at the sight of jameson like this, so scared, so un-jameson, and it came crashing down on you just how bad emily effected him. 

the sound of her name seemed to snap him out of it, because now when he looked at you it felt like he actually saw you. 

your name fell off his lips in a single breath, before his eyes flickered all over you, like he was making sure it really was you.

he then pulled you into the tightest hug, like he was holding onto you for dear life. a hand came to the base of your neck, as his head nestled in your neck. the wind howled around you, but you didn’t let go. you don’t think anything could’ve made you let go in this situation.

his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and your arms were around his neck. you felt like crying with the weight of the situation, and you know he did too. 

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled into your neck, voice shaky. “for everything i said, for everything i didn’t do, for now, i just—” you pulled back from the hug, and your hands immediately found his once again. 

“i’m sorry i don’t show you how much i care more. the last time i did, i…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath in. 

he didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to understand. the last time he cared, she died, and he nearly did too. 

“jameson,” your hands tightened around his as you shook your head, wind blowing in your hair. “you don’t have to say anything, i get it.” 

“no, that’s the thing, i do.” you saw him swallow, adam’s apple bobbing before he spoke once again. “you don’t know how much i care for you, how much you matter to me. you’re number one in every thing. nothing else matters when i’m with you, you know that?” 

you were way past the point of holding back tears now, and by the looks of it, jameson was on the verge of them as well. 

“you’re my first thought in the morning, last thought before i sleep, and you infiltrate my dreams. i don’t deserve you — i know that, but i want you anyway. i’m selfish.” he took another deep shuddering breath in, eyes flicking between yours, “i’m so selfishly in love with you that it scares me.” 

that was the first time he had ever said those words to you. in love with you.

love.

but they weren’t just words, they were everything. 

it was what you two had been dancing around for the past months in your relationship, it was him taking off his armor. 

your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he was lying even though you knew you wouldn’t find any. your body was on auto pilot, the only thing you could do was kiss him. 

the kiss felt like you were really connected with him, intertwined. it was the furthest thing from lust it could’ve been. it felt like you were finally on the same page.

“i love you, jameson. i love all of you. i always will.” you whispered against his lips when you pulled back for a breath of air, before he pressed his lips needily to yours once again. 

when you pulled back this time, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment. 

you fell into a comfortable silence, but you could tell something was on his mind as his eyes wouldn’t meet yours. they were trained on the ground beneath you like he was deep in thought. 

you didn’t say anything, you wanted for him to feel comfortable enough to say it himself.

and then he did. 

“i don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted into the space between you, before his emerald eyes finally flicked up to yours. “i don’t know how to love right.” his voice was unbelievably low as he murmured.

he loved you so right, he was everything you could’ve ever wanted. you loved him for him. 

you didn’t say that though. instead, you brought a hand to his cheek, before weaving it through his hair as you looked intently into his heavy eyes. “then let me show you how.” 

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @notshortbutsweet

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican

[multific]

A Bump in the Road

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: You two were perfect for each other, but there are bound to be bumps in every road.

Everyone in Hogwarts was aware of the power couple that was you and Mattheo.

You had been inseparable since you first met in their first class, your chemistry was undeniable from the start.

Your relationship was the envy of all your friends, as you seemed to be the perfect match in every way.

However, as time went on, jealousy began to rear its ugly head in your relationship.

You started to notice that Mattheo was spending more and more time with a fellow student, Patsy.

They would work on projects together, go out for coffee, and even get out of the school without inviting you along.

At first, you tried to brush off these feelings of jealousy, telling yourself that Mattheo was just being a good friend to Patsy.

But as the weeks went by, your suspicions grew stronger.

You couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more than just friendship between the two.

And then, you decided to confront Mattheo about your suspicions.

You poured your heart out to him, telling him how you felt neglected and insecure in this relationship.

"It's like you don't even care about me anymore." you said and Mattheo was taken aback by your honesty, but reassured you that his friendship with Patsy was purely platonic.

He promised to make more time for you and to include you in everything.

"It's not that I don't want you to only be with me Matty, but-"

"I get it. I really do. You don't have to explain." he smiled and you kissed him.

However, despite his reassurances, you couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy that had taken hold of your heart.

He said he got it, but he changed nothing. And again, he was away with Patsy.

You let out a long sigh as you sat down to have dinner.

"Trouble in paradise? What did Riddle do this time?" you looked up at Blaise. You rolled your eyes and pointed at Mattheo who was talking with Patsy. "Oh, lover boy found a new toy?"

"Fuck off."

"Only joking. Stupid idiot probably got used to having you around way too much."

"Tell me more. And he had the balls to reassure me that he will stop."

"If it is anything, I don't think he is like that with her. He is an idiot, yes but he does love you."

"I hope you are right Blaise, or else there will be blood."

"I have no doubt about that. But I think two can play his game." he leaned in and you looked at him with a face that said "Continue". "The new guy, Black, has a little crush on you. Maybe... you could play a little?"

"Regulus Black?" Blaise nodded and you had a wicked smile. You turned and watched your boyfriend laugh with Patsy, oh boy if Mattheo wanted to fight, you would bring war to him.

----

Regulus was actually very kind and funny.

You genuinely liked him. But he wasn't Mattheo.

And it looked like your actions piqued his interest to the point where he actually left Patsy and joined you and Regulus when he helped you with your homework.

You were thankful to Blaise for the amazing plan as it has worked beautifully.

Patsy was soon no one but a long forgotten memory.

"Oh? Where's your girlfriend?" you asked Mattheo and he looked confused. "Patsy." you explained and he rolled his eyes.

"Apparently, Gryffendale thought it would be a good idea to have a bet. Patsy was sent to get us to brake up."

"Really? And it took you that long to realize that you played into their hands? We almost did break up." you laughed.

"No, we didn't. But it was rather suspicious for a girl to be interested in the stuff that I like to this degree."

"Should I call the doctor or will you survive?"

"I'm fine, since I have my girl." he pulled you close and you shook your head. "So you can start to avoid Black. I'm not letting you leave."

"Sorry, I do have a study session with him later today, but you can join us." you smirked.

This was the moment where you understood that life is going to throw a lot your way. But since you two were perfect for each other, no matter what will come, you two will be fine.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum

@asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Angsty Curtis Brothers fic

My mental health really isn't mental healthing today so I tried to channel that into this. Hope you enjoy :)

**************

“Good hustle, Curtis,” coach claps him on the back as he jogs off the field and he grins, pushing dark sweat soaked hair out of his eyes. 

They’re up by a touchdown and one field goal- that he’s responsible for- and with possession and just two minutes left in the fourth quarter they’re reasonably safe, though the game isn’t over until it’s over. 

His teammates pat him on the back and compliment his kick as he guzzles back water, and it’s not hollow per se, but even after two years it still feels skin deep. He’ll never be one of them, never be rich, never be quite good enough, popular enough, socy enough, no matter how good his kicks or how well he runs plays. They accept him, maybe some even like him, but they’ll never want him, not really. It doesn’t even sting anymore.

The people who do really care about him watch from the bleachers. Mom and dad are there, dad talking with his hands like usual and mom laughing at him like she always does, too in love to ever scold him for anything. They wave at him across the field when he catches their eye and it almost feels right. Almost. 

The gang is around too, though less obvious in their support of him. Two-bit and Dally are pelting a group of freshmen with popcorn, while Steve, Johnny, and Soda are all smoking near the gap in the fence. They’ll be gone as soon as the final whistle blows, and he really can’t blame him. The end of the match is always the hardest for him too. 

33..32…31…

The clock ticks down steadily, their team and the visiting school fighting back and forth without either team gaining any substantial yards and then the whistle blows and they’ve won.

Like every game they've ever won, the victory feels worse than losing. 

His teammates cheer and thump him on the back while the fans flood onto the field and the coach gives a short congratulatory speech before telling them he’ll see them at practice tomorrow.

Then it’s perfectly, blessedly over. Except it isn’t, is it? It never is, not really.

“You coming to the afterparty, man?” Jared Strong, one of the nicer guys on the team and also one of the biggest, asks, “Damien’s hosting and his parents are outta town.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. Rarely does he go to parties with the team, even though he usually gets an invite. He has no love for pretending to be something he isn’t. Not anymore at least, “I got other plans. Thanks though.”

“Have fun,” Jared nods politely, his helmet dangling in one hand, pale hair stuck to his face, “I guess I’ll see you at practice tomorrow?”

“For sure. See you Jared.”

“Bye Pony.”

He watches as Jared rejoins the rest of the team, shining brighter than the rest of them even in his stained and sweaty jersey. Jordan’s captain of the team, nicer than the rest of them, obviously more skilled even though he never bragged about it. 

Jared reminds him of Darry, and it’s hard not to hate him for it. 

It’s been two years, but he can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever really recover from it, or if the hole Darry left in the world is going to be a permanent fixture rendering his life a theatre production he stars in as Ponyboy Curtis with the demands of Doing What Darry Couldn’t Finish.

He wishes he could be bitter about it, but it just feels like a weird sort of penance. Not that he was the one who killed Darry- no Paul Holden and his alcoholic buddies and their too fast cars had done that- but there’s an odd sort of peace tied in with the pain and the guilt of trying to make sure Darry’s legacy is never forgotten. He’ll never be football captain or boy of the year, but he can play the game Darry loved and go to college and get out of this town once and for all. Is it really his dream? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Darry would know but he isn’t here, he will never be here again and it’s never going to be okay again because a piece of Ponyboy died the same night the police came to their door and told them about the accident and what use is there of living when he isn’t really alive?

Mom and Dad are both beaming when he makes his way over to them, and they’re both still living but they’re different now too, just like all of them are, and it shows in the way mom’s eyes are still bright but now they only ever shine with tears, and dad’s laugh is still loud but never so carefree as it used to be. 

“Great job Little Colt,” Dad ruffles his hair, and mom gives him a quick hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He allows it only because he knows Darry never used to. She needs the reminder sometimes, Pony thinks, that things are different, even though it’s something they all never forget.

He manages a faint grin but he’s tired of his performance, of pretending to be whole around the team, and he can see in their eyes they can see it. 

“Thanks. Let’s go home.”

Dad throws an arm around his shoulders but says nothing, something Pony is grateful for. He’s lucky to have parents who understand him so well, because most people don’t much like his silence even though sometimes talking is just so much work. 

The gang is waiting for them in the parking lot, clustered around dad’s truck and Steve’s car which are parked right next to each other. None of them are usually subdued- two years has given them all enough time to develop a new normal- but there’s a weight hanging over all of them that football games bring out. They’re all performers now, but all of them seem better at it then he is.

Well. All of them except Soda. 

Two-bit can joke again, better than he used to, and Dally is tougher and meaner than ever. Steve’s anger has been honed to a sharp edge, but he’s grown better about using it, his fights with the socs more frequent and violent, but his outbursts at the gang far fewer. Losing Darry had put things into perspective for all of them. Even Johnny was different, even though Pony suspects Johnny might have changed so he still fit with him rather than because of losing Darry. Not that Darry hadn’t loved Johnny and Johnny hadn’t loved him, but in the past two years Ponyboy has come to realize that Johnny spends a lot more energy taking care of him than his younger, more stupid self had ever been able to realize.

They all surround him when Dad drops the steadying arm around his shoulders to pull out his keys. Johnny hands him a cigarette without him having to ask, and he inhales half desperately, ignoring mom’s disapproving look and trying not to roll his eyes. He knows she’d hoped he’d wait until he was at least fifteen to start smoking, but If she can ignore Soda’s recent antics she can surely ignore his newly acquired habit.

Speaking of Soda, he’s currently reeling pickled and clearly far past the point of attempting to hide it. He’s paler these days than he used to be, and skinnier too, no matter how much mom is always hounding him to eat, and pony thinks maybe Soda’s the most ruined of all of them, or at least the only one of them that’ll never recover not really. Right now he’s living like he’s trying to follow Darry to his death, and the anger Pony feels has more to do with the sorrow that came with the fact that in losing his eldest brother he lost the human part of his other brother too.

Steve’s holding Soda upright, his arm under Soda’s shoulders while Soda slurs out a never evening stream of consciousness that none of them can understand, that stupid fucking flask he never goes anywhere without sticking out of his jacket pocket. Pony takes one look at dad’s tightly drawn face and locks eyes with Steve, both of them coming to a silent agreement, one he would’ve thought inconceivable before. Nowadays though, he and Steve Randle get along just fine.

He ducks under Soda’s other side, helping take the rest of his body weight, even though Soda’s got so slight as of late it’s hardly needed, and helps Steve guide him to sit in the back of the car. He’s so drunk he hardly seems to notice, still babbling incoherently.

“Thanks,” Steve huffs, and he looks tired, nearly as tired as Pony feels. He nods, and Steve nods back then goes to promise mom and dad that he’s sober enough to drive them all home. Mom and dad never believe any of them anymore, not without looking into their eyes and smelling their breath. Pony can't even blame them. They’d lost one son to a careless man’s drunk driving. Clearly, they couldn’t risk another.

Johnny climbs in next to him then, smiling softly, and Two crowds in after him. Dally takes the passenger side, and then Steve’s back, climbing into the driver’s seat.

Dally turns on the radio and rolls down the window while he lights up a cigarette, but even the rolling stones aren’t loud enough to drown out Soda’s talk, as much as Ponyboy wishes they could. 

It’s strange and wrong that they all fit in Steve’s car, a gang of six that’s meant to be seven, and also hardly a gang at all.

He rests his head on Johnny's shoulder next to him. 

Last week was the two year anniversary and everything has changed and nothing has changed, none of them are getting better, and Soda is still just getting worse.

Ponyboy sighs. They say three time’s the charm, right? Maybe three years will be enough. Enough that he will be able to look inward at the hole in his heart and it won’t look like a gaping wound. Maybe it will ache like a bruise instead of burning every hour like a knife wound. Maybe three years will be enough for him to be able to say Darry’s name without having to force it past clenched teeth. Maybe if he makes it to three years Soda will decide life is still worth living. Maybe he won’t.

Maybe three years will do what two years haven't. Maybe three years will be what it takes for them all to start to heal.

There’s nothing he can do but find out.

[miodiodavinci]

anyway as for the long and short of how i'm doing currently (mostly the long)

so two weeks ago i sprained my wrist at work lifting boxes, and it's been a slow recovery even with the help of a brace, stretches, rice buddies, and ice packs. i've had to basically put a lot of my hobbies on hold because i've been saving what little i can do with my wrist for all the job prep i need to do on the weekends (i.e. making flyers, updating spreadsheets, creating presentations, moving more boxes, etc...)

hobbies are even further on hold at this point because this last week i injured my shoulder as well, and i can feel that my ankle is getting ready to go with it. i'm doing what i can to minimize the damage (i.e. got a work cart, have had coworkers come with me to storage, actually sitting down and resting when i'm on break, etc...) but there's not a lot that can be done considering these are Core Aspects of my job and my contract goes until spring (and also like. whole complex situation where i can't leave without screwing over myself and a lot of people i care about)

it's a shit situation all around, but at the very least i'm getting paid a reasonable amount and it's covering my expenses jfgjksdhkfg

(though for all the work i do, god oh god i wish it was doing more than just covering my expenses)

having to take a break from my hobbies has put me in a weird headspace, though. or like it's less of a weird headspace and more that there's finally this pause that has me reevaluating what i want to do in my spare time

i've been consumed by work for the past like four years of my life, this last year was kind of the culmination of that. between completing my internship, finishing my degree, surviving The Horror (read: had a really, truly horrifying cancer scare last year), doing the yamaha collab, and taking care of the flurry of job-hunting stuff that needed to be done post-graduation, i don't know if i actually got a chance to so much as breathe until august

. . . . except in august i immediately collapsed and rotted the entire month away skjdfhgkhsdf

i'm burnt out, i think. like. genuinely, really severely burnt out. the more i think about it, the more i feel like i just need a year of doing nothing.

just. absolutely nothing.

which i've told myself in the past. several times. always in a big showy way. so much so that i feel silly saying it now because i've been saying it for years in the descriptions of my videos and in posts on my blog.

"i'm tired of being beholden to past me!! this year, i'm letting go of my expectations for myself and just doing what i want!!" (<< this user has said this at least 7 separate times and has failed to make good on it every single time)

but i think why i've never been able to follow through is because in spite of all the dropping projects that no longer interested me and not feeling obligated to see everything through, i still held on to the expectation that at the end of it, i'd still post something. but like.

i think posting doesn't really matter to me as much anymore??? if at all???

which isn't to say "i'm putting my foot down and never creating any new vocaloid work ever again," but it's also like. i can't let myself sit with the expectation of "yeah i'll just make things for fun!! and when they're done, i'll post them!!' because that changes the focus from making something for me into making something for others to see, which is. a different beast to care for skdjfgklhsdlfg

i keep seeing a lot of things where i have the opportunity to keep building on what rice and i were able to make as part of the yamaha collab: alternate box arts, matching galaco design, cool new english covers featuring bespoke cover art of the new designs but when i think of starting those, i feel utterly drained, and when i think of how i'll feel once they're finished, i imagine it'll be akin to "alright, i've checked that off the list. what's the next thing i should do not disappear and be a failure?"

. . . . . which is really, really separate from doing things as a hobby because they make me happy OTL

this past year i've really reconnected with my close friends (in part because i stopped having time to scroll online and didn't want anyone to know when i was online because i legitimately did not have the energy to respond) and i've noticed i really truly enjoy just batting around our ocs with each other so more than i've enjoyed any of the vocaloid work that i've put out in the past five years skjfghldkfg

i've been doing vocaloid things for over ten years now, and the collaboration with yamaha was quite literally something i couldn't have even dreamed of, much less imagined it would have just fallen into my lap the way it did. coming off the end of it and my internship though, there's this feeling that's been building for years now where it feels like the effort i put in is just not proportional to the satisfaction i get out of it. it feels more like something i'm supposed to do otherwise i'd just be squandering all the work i've put in and all the attention i've gotten.

. . . . . . i just want to live man 😂 i'm caught in a mental tangle that feels difficult to unravel. spring mio was at the end of his fucking rope, but fall mio is finally has the time to sit down with the slack and is wondering if it's worth it to keep pulling for all i'm worth when i can always just go over to my friend's house and have a funny little sleep over (metaphorical or literal both apply)

i'm not decided by any means but i'm definitely thinking about it.

it's the fact that it's been 2 years since i've released salvador, and i went into it thinking i'd be cool and professional about it, with lots of covers and frequent updates because i used to make lots of UTAU covers in high school, but then i got paralyzed by all the "shoulds" wrapped up in the process and i just. stopped working.

when i say i want to make X cover of Y song, am i really saying that i want to go out of my way to do all these things?? or am i just imagining what momentary satisfaction i'll feel to see another thumbnail on my channel??

...

(face in hands) this ended up being. a lot fucking longer than i meant for it to be jksdfhlkghsdkfg

hopefully most people have clicked away by this point w

it's the tear between the things i genuinely want (making things with friends that stay between us friends) the things i kind of want out of necessity (opening up commissions so i can supplement my income), the things i said i'd do and can't back out now on, and the things i told myself i would do but can't really must up plenty of positive emotions about (but can feel plenty of frightful, guilty emotions when i think of not doing them)

i'll figure it out eventually. even in the worst case scenario, i plan to keep my accounts up as archives, so it's not like my work will go anywhere w i'd still want it to be there once i decide i'm ready to come back to it w

[papermonkeyism]

The wrist kitty looks so cozy in the bath robe sleeve.

[bree-paints]

My copium where they all survive and they are an iconic one eyed trio

Also some random sketches because 266-267 have been killing me emotionally thank you

[larapaulussen]

[coquelicoq]

raksura for the ask meme?

YAY

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) moon was designed in a lab to appeal to me personally, so. it's about the trust issues!

scrunkly (my "baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) the sky copper clutch!! traumatized children imprinting on a guy with baby fever is usually what i go to fanfic for so to have it right there in canon? incredible. i love all of frost's little tantrums and idk, just the way that she claims moon as her family in a way that has nothing to do with court politics? she's like, we're your clutch, obviously. and this is our court because it's your court, and all the other jabronis who live here are on thin ice. she's ready to throw down with moon's wife/the government at all hours of the day and she's like six years old. i love that moon has that energy in his life even though he personally is pretty confused and exhausted by it lol.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) it's hard out here for an ember stan because he is in so few scenes relative to the space he occupies in my psyche! i need 5000% more interactions between him and moon. him and stone. him and shade. him and river. him and the teachers. him and the clutches. him and jade and balm and chime. oh my god him and malachite? him and celadon? him and delin??

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) niran. i'm always up for a "longsuffering ship captain resigns himself to another restless night of hearing gigantic shapeshifters with incredible stamina fuck nasty on the roof of his cabin" moment. technically i have never been in that exact situation, but i feel like i can relate.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) river who is CLASSIC poor little meow meow territory like yes his whole personality is being a grade A asshole and sure he tries to kill my blorbo a few times, but once you get to know him he's so sad and pathetic that i'm kind of like okay where can i sign up to defend him from the largely factual aspersions of his dozens of quite frankly justified haters? he'd hate that. the good shit 👌

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) stone. every time he crankily says "why did i ever reproduce" upon finding himself entangled in yet another ridiculous clusterfuck thanks to one of his hundreds of idiot great-great-great-great-great grandchildren, an angel gets its wings. he's depressed and antisocial but he can't totally check out because he has to mediate relationship issues between his dumbass relatives. love that for him.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) malachite but specifically because malachite would not be scared of superhell. she'd skulk around being invisible, maybe fuck some shit up if she felt like it, and leave when she got bored. she probably makes it like. opal night's sister city or something. and nobody in the court is at all phased. yeah that's our reigning queen who recently got back from vacation in superhell. she does that. she says it's relaxing.

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: THE CITADEL (PART 2)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Maj. Kaidan Alenko With: Councilor Donnel Udina, Councilor Tevos, Councilor Laiel Sparatus, Cmdr. Armando-Owen Bailey, and Kai Leng And a Special Guest Appearance by: The Illusive Man But sometimes the way a thing goes down does matter, Sophie. Later- when you have to live with yourself. Knowing that you acted with integrity- then it matters. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[comixandco]

my favourite part of season 5 is still the reveal that Gabriel and Tomoe thought Adrien and Kagami made the perfect pair and wanted them to be together because it completely flips their relationship

Kagami and Adrien sneaking around and finding the slightest gaps in their schedule and giving their bodyguards/parents the slip to spend time together and feeling so clever that they’ve gotten away with it their parents don’t suspect a thing

only to smashcut to Gabriel and Tomoe doing an evil pound it because their ship is canon

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[whyeverr]

dabbling with a simself update ♥︎

[kodyzzz]

a recent encounter in the wild of a person i used to be friends in primary school, really made me think about how much has changed since then. because that friend is the same as i remember them, in the best meaning of that sentence, and im just. well💀

[inthecarpets]

I'm thinking about the "People don't like female characters as much as male characters", and how i sorta also feel a bit distanced from most of fem characters for recent years.

And then i remind myself how i loved absolute lot of fem Fairy Tail characters and some of them more so than any male characters.

Even though FT was literally a shounen, where one and only one guy was allowed to save the day with the simplest "power of friendship"; For which the author literally made crap up as he went along.

Sounds like a character taste issue and not "People don't like female characters as much".😒🤨

(at least in my case)

[365partygrl]

muse: jude roberts, he/him, forty-four, oddity museum curator plot: your muse is into oddities, jude likes to bring them items he finds that don't go towards the museum he works at. and he's kind of obsessed with your muse. open to / connection ideas: anyone / significant other, best friend, next door neighbor, someone else who works at the museum, anything really.. reasonable age gaps welcome, NO TABOO.

driving home, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel, his only thought was them and how excited he was to bring them these gifts. it's kind of a beautiful thing when two oddity lovers meet. when jude tells people he works at an oddity museum, most of them will be confused and put off. and he doesn't necessarily blame them. realistically, seeking out items such as bones ( both animal and human ), vintage medical tools and framed insects would raise the brow of any ordinary person. but sometimes you'll meet someone who's just as into all that shit like you are and that can blossom into something both beautiful and strange. jude thinks they're quite beautiful and strange. it's why the so called loner has taken a liking to their company. he parks lazily in front of their home and takes big steps towards their door, knocking three times before holding tightly to his backpack strap. leg bounces impatiently as he waits for the door to open, lips spreading into a wide smile once it finally does. ‟ hi, ” doesn't wait for an invitation before entering their home, ‟ so i have some goodies for you... ”