#session diary

[percypages]

spring year 3 updates

spring is back and grampa pages gave me four candles, which is cool because i didn't know what grampas were until today but cora got four candles like me and she took over arranging my mannequins and taught me abt dressers for the shop. i even got to make an ice cream shirt for shisha who's still living on the farm but is my good friend and it was fun to do that before our camping trip....

fern kept showing up on the island which i guess is fine. since fern hasnt been mean to me and was my first customer but something weird is going on with cora and maybe wilbur. but wilbur's just mean even if he gave me some good fish in exchange for radioactive bars. and fern sat between me and cora on our movie... date? not really sure what the difference between hanging out is and a date bc i got to sleep in a tent with sara during camping and she's such a good gf but isn't that just normal. like sara has like 10 bf/gfs and we saw a movie wth a bunch of ppl but fern is like.... idk my first memoreis are of the farm so idk........

anyway i guess what im saying is cora is such an amazing business partner and its not so bad coming back to stardew valley when we're all together helping out but it's nice to feel less worried about doing new outfits cos i want to be my own person. but i like matching with cora and helping. so i think this "brand" ""blogging"" thing is fun and im excited about the new outfits i can make. gonna make every clothes ever someday!

[sirrencia-the-tubular]

Well, we had our first session of ICON 1.5! It went okay. Had a couple hiccups with the narrative system, as it’s not anything I’ve used before. Some mild issues with role playing too, because I haven’t done that for nearer to 2 years. The players were a bit confused, but one guy gave it an honest go and helped the others run through it. I will need to watch maybe an actual play to see how I ought to be running the FitD system.

Tactical combat could have gone better, but that’s not a system issue. I rolled insanely well, and I watched 4 players roll well below a six for 2 rounds. The combat ended around round 6, but that was the end of the session. The monster system is really nice, but this combat was built exceedingly simple. Not too much terrain changes or cover, but several tables to flip over. Players didn’t realize how cover worked, so I’ll try to telegraph even more to put that ball in their court.

Main issue was one player who was under the impression that he could just, I dunno, learn via osmosis and not read any reading. No idea how his character worked, no understanding of his traits. We drilled down to it around round 3, and things went much better when 1/4 of the party was willing and able to contribute. Next session is in a couple weeks, theoretically the next one will go better.

[nodalstudies]

whereabouts of february 11, 2024 🗒️

can’t believe it’s already week 6 and my first proper nursing class is starting up soon! every day has just been a choice between discipline and comfort. i love myself enough to keep fostering my growth academically and mentally.

i also got myself a valentine today <3 a win for sapphics everywhere!

[jurygarroth]

[ghost-proofbaby]

if it were anyone else (e.m.)

warnings: strong allusions to depression, disordered eating/rough relationship with food, mentions of smoking, description of a sort of panic attack. very sad. hurt/comfort? not edited.

wc: 1.6k+

a/n: this is literally entirely self indulgent and written entirely after i sat and cried and thought "i wish i had eddie here right now to hold me". maybe in like thirty minutes tops. this is for me and only me. go figure lol. sorry. yeah. anyways.

if you relate, my askbox is always open, and i'm very sorry you've felt this way as well. i hope you all take care of yourselves. drink some water, call a friend. be kind to yourself.

“I’m worried about you.” 

Four words that always manage to strike a certain type of fear in your gut. You don’t know how to react as he says it, how he wants you to react. You can only stare blankly, you can only wish harder for the earth to swallow you whole.

“What do you mean?” you laugh nervously, following it with a hard swallow.

You’re playing dumb. You know it, he knows it. The tremor in your bones and your numb appendages know it, too. 

“You’re…” Eddie stalls, licking his lips, letting his eyes rake over you, “You’re getting bad again.” 

You’re quick to shake your head, forcing another hollow chuckle from your chest, “It’s not that bad. I’m fin-”

“You’re not fine.”

The look in his eyes could crack your spine if you stare too long. Wet eyes, a trembling bottom lip, worry lines etched into his forehead that you realize might be caused by you.

You’re causing him worry. The last thing you want to do, you’ve accomplished. You’re on a fast-track to becoming a burden – the first step is always acceptance. 

You’re still unsure of how he wants – no, needs you to react right now. This conversation is a landmine for both of you, and you hold every breath with every step as you try to navigate it. If you make one wrong step, it could cause an explosion that spares no survivors.

You don’t mind if it tears you apart limb by limb. You do mind if it hurts him. 

“How… How do you know that?” 

It’s not a sarcastic snipping or defensive deterrence. It’s an unfiltered response of genuineness – you want to know the signs, you want to know what has exposed the rot this time.

And then, maybe next time, you’ll be able to better shield it from him with this knowledge. 

“How could I not?” he takes a deep breath in through his nose, and you focus on the flare of his nostrils rather than any of the tears beginning to gather at his waterlines, “It’s been happening for a while now, though, hasn’t it?” 

Your throat is a cage, tight and restrictive and ringing with a bitter metallic taste in its tenseness. You can’t respond with words. You can only nod. 

He chooses to answer your question more properly now that you’ve admitted it, “You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground. Picking up distractions like they’re going out of style.”

“Hey, they might be. We never know-” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet his. Now’s not the time for jokes, “Sorry. I… I know. I’m sorry.” 

He’s right. Fuck, he’s right. 

“I want to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly,” his own steps across these landmines are just as delicate, just as feathery light, as your own. You hear it in his tone, see it in his body language. You wish your body could sink into the mattress you’re sitting on the edge of as he crouches in front of you, warm palms connecting with your knees. Grounding you. Tethering you. Holding you back from that sinking you crave. “Are you… Sweetheart, are you okay?”

If anybody else had built up to such a stupid question, you would have laughed in their face. You would have shoved those warm palms right off of your skin and you would have thrown up those ice cold hands of your own, shouted obviously not. 

Obviously not. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay, it’s a bit comical. I am drowning. I am treading in freezing cold waters and I am barely capable of keeping my head above the waves. My engine is fucked, my tank is empty. I don’t think I’d even know how to be ‘okay’ again if you did manage to pull this mangled body of mine from these depths and sat me down on safe, solid ground again. 

You can’t say any of this, though. Not because you don’t trust him, not because he would judge you. But because the moment he asks the question that should make you scoff, you let out a sob instead. Something like a muffled, broken wail that tears from deep within you. It had already been ready and poised, laying in wait for a perfect moment like this one to escape. 

His eyes aren’t the only glossy ones anymore. 

“I-” you start, breathing already stuttering and chest already constricting, “I- I-”

“Hey,” he palms smooth up your thighs, carrying their warmth with them, as if he were trying to spread it across you. As if he had heard your thoughts. As if he already knew all about those dark, treacherous, freezing waters you were stranded in. All you can do is spew out another cry, strangled as you tried to swallow it down before it entered the atmosphere between you two, “Hey.” 

You only notice the tears when you crumple forward and he meets you halfway. Those warm palms, those hands so capable of safety and promise, cup your cheeks and his thumbs make quick work of swiping away the salty streams. 

“Hey, baby, breathe for me,” his voice is tragically gentle, “Just one deep breath, okay?” 

To demonstrate, you watch his chest expand dramatically, his hands forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

You can’t see through the bleariness. 

“C’mon, sweetness,” he encourages again, “One breath. Just one.” 

If it were anyone else, you’d turn into a fit of rage at the coddling. You’d break everything in sight. You’d scream until your already burning lungs finally collapsed as they’d been yearning to for so long. 

But it’s him. It’s just him, it’s just Eddie. 

His chest rises dramatically again, and this time, yours does as well, albeit through stifling hiccups. You’re dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the flood of emotion that was wrecking you. 

“There you go!” his voice rises ever so slightly, and when you flinch a bit at the sudden volume, he retracts, “Sorry, sorry. But that’s it, sweetheart. Another one, okay?” 

Another breath. Another sob. Another wave of all the pain you’ve been battling off. 

You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground.

He was right and it fucking killed you. None of those are things you could ever shield him from. You didn’t have the heart to pull away those numb and icey fingertips every time he’d reach out for your hand, or try to cover the shivers that managed to rack your bones even in the middle of summer. The sleeping situation had been spiraling, a pendulum of sleepless nights that would end in a sleep so deep that you could have been mistaken for resting with the dead. Maybe the smoking you could have hid, especially when you’d been so boastful about quitting. 

You weren’t running yourself into the ground. You had already collapsed into the dirt, you had already joined the worms. You’d buried yourself alive, six feet under, and nothing could have stopped him from sniffing out that scent of decay on you. 

The death of a soul and mind. The death of the thing that had propelled you forward for so long. No amount of sweet perfume, or hour long scalding showers, or minty gum to occupy your mind rather than a proper meal, can erase that stench. 

You never could have shielded him. He always saw right through you. Always had, always would. 

“I’m sorry,” you end up crying out. 

You don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but you echo the words again. Over and over, on repeat, until he’s rising from the ground. Until he’s sat beside you. Until his arms are suddenly encasing you and you’re awarded a warmth you didn’t feel deserving of. 

He doesn’t smell like the decay you’d surrounded yourself with. He smells like slow waking in the morning, dreary and calm and at a reasonable time. He smells like warm baths that only relax your bones, and don’t have to blister your skin in the process. He smells like three meals a day, all comforting and all effortless and that never linger with a sense of regret.

He’s not decay, never even treading close to death. He’s home. He’s the promise that you could be okay. Even if it isn’t right now. 

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, squeezing you tighter into his chest, not even blinking an eye at the patch of wetness you leave behind from where your cheeks bury against him, “Never apologize. Ever. Not with me, sweetheart. Keep the sorries. I don’t need them.” 

If it were anyone else, the holding would have suffocated you. But it’s him. It’s Eddie.

You don’t fight him when he pulls you fully into his lap, situating the two of you comfortably on that mattress. 

You don’t know how long you let him cradle you like that. How much of that time is spent filled with your cries, or how many breaths he gently urges you to take with him. He never once has to verbally say what you already know; he never once promises aloud that it’ll be okay. He doesn’t put that pressure on you, not yet. Not today. Not when he knows the journey to okay is still such a long one. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers to you instead, “I’ve got you, now, sweetheart.” 

If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t believe them. 

But it’s him. It’s Eddie. 

And he’s got you, for now and for as long as you need.

[emberettee]

Saliba and Big Gabi training at Sobha Realty Training Center, London Colney, 05.08.2024 ©️ Stuart MacFarlane/Arsenal FC via Getty Images

"Look! Now cheeese"

[yang-jin-seo]

Day 93 😗

2024.6.4

*잠시 쉬어가는 날

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Day 767

Wanda: “Agatha, did you have a first edition of the Odyssey? Or maybe the Iliad?”

Agatha: “The Odyssey, the Illiad- The epic Greek poems from antiquity?”

Wanda: “Yeah!”

Y/N: “Ooo, did you attend the book signing? Did you meet Homer? Was he an instant phenomenon then or was the line really short because he was an emerging author?”

Agatha: “Alright, ignoring the fact that that those stories may have been created through oral tradition and thus might have gone through many iterations before the first written copy or even is the work of solely Homer, do you REALLY think I am that old?”

Y/N: “Well - didn’t you say you were the inspiration for that one character? The one with the face that sunk a thousand ships?”

Agatha: “The face that LAUNCHED a thousand ships”

Wanda: “Was it to get away from you?”

Agatha: “SHUT UP”

[thelaurenshippen]

ID: a bracket with the title: "Pick your favorite Atypical show" and the pairings are The Bright Sessions vs. In Strange Woods, Breaker Whiskey vs. New Year’s Day, Look Up vs. Greenhouse, Life With LEO(h) vs. Dashboard Diaries. At the bottom, there is text that reads "What show are you going to recommend to a friend next"? END ID

I love all of Atypical's shows equally but I also love chaos.

[kit4strophe]

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆

┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆

┊ ┊ ★⋆

┊ ◦

★⋆ ┊ . ˚

˚★

ovg gꙅv TzᴎvH YvTᴙm

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ: hi loves, i’m kit! i’m 19 (she/her) and i live on the east coast of the USA! i’m an avid music listener, i love love love books, my imagination takes over my reality, and i’m the biggest grayson hawthorne sympathizer u will ever meet. i’m also a reality shifter and i have so many DRs that i’d be so happy to talk ab!!

ꜰᴀɴʙᴀꜱᴇꜱ ɪ’ᴍ ɪɴ: The Inheritance Games (obviously), Chestnut Springs Series, Twisted Series, Angel (the show), Greek Mythology (if that counts?), Once Upon A Time, WWE, and def more that i’m forgetting

ꜰᴜɴ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ: i write to express my adoration for things, i love analyzing book scenes, i can put music to people/fictional characters so easily, i can yap about my interests for hours on end, i will listen to a song on repeat until im sick of it

ᴍʏ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ: please stay safe on here and if any of you ever need someone, don’t hesitate to message me, mutuals or not ‹𝟹 also, if we are mutuals, HII BABIES!!! whether u r my age or younger i love u all ‹𝟹 ‹𝟹

in true hawthorne fashion, i put a tiny message up above. can you decode it?

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[belladonnablue]

cry selfie (i couldn’t go to the beach)

[re--laaaaaxer]

21:42

I am pushing the last bit of effort on a Friday night before I can unwind this weekend. It occurred to me this evening that I had been putting off my manuscript, which I was supposed to revise a week ago, and it is due in two weeks. Silly me.

No rest for the wicked, so let's push, push, push!

If you have something you need to work on on a Friday night, you got this okeh. Sending you lots of love and lots of motivation from this side! 🫶

[commissarabel]

Today was a productive day.

I started reading a book about journalism, ran seven kilometers (this is a long distance for me), finished writing a chapter of my book and continued reading the book in Polish.

In the evening I want to finish reading the chapter of the marine insurance textbook, because today I have not done anything related to my work yet.

I think the day went great.

[nodalstudies]

whereabouts of february 10, 2024 📰

i’ve picked up the study techniques of time-blocking (setting aside time for one task) and the 5-minute rule (committing to 5 minutes of studying, which helps build momentum when starting feelings intimidating). lovely strategies!

the sky was clear for the first time in weeks <3 it was a great day. i got coffee, bought some cosmetics, did some pilates yoga, and had fun social time.

[jurygarroth]

you dislike mcd aaron because he became aphmau's endgame love interest in the span of a season. i dislike mcd aaron because he undermined aphmau's possible arc of mastering her powers to open the irene dimension

[emberettee]

Kai, Ben and Saka training at Sobha Realty Training Center, London Colney, 08.08.2024 ©️ Stuart MacFarlane/Arsenal FC via Getty Images

These two basically stick together ever since they were back ffs.