#smtimes i feel like i can ignore it for a bit

[diodellet]

4. Go to the art tag (or similar) and reblog some art you like that has under 100 notes

&

30. Share a quote (from whatever media you want) that has changed you as a person

hi! thanks for shooting an ask my way!!

4.) Go to the art tag (or similar) and reblog some art you like that has under 100 notes.

MWAHAHAHAHAH i have been enabled to queue some rbs for this just like i planned nefariously

30.) Share a quote (from whatever media you want) that has changed you as a person

gosh i tend to gravitate towards media that fundamentally changes my brain chemistry a nd outlook on life its hard to just pick one, i guess ill go with my most recent one which is from Ameri by Nilfruits!

🎪"Life is like an allergic reaction to shame."

like look at how cute and pink that pv is, im already a sucker for pastels and a witchy aesthetic, and i kinda feel like it's making reference to the comedy Amelie with all the themes of whimsy and silliness in the wake of persistent cynicism, (I never really finished the musical starring philippa soo in it but I'll finish it one day! FOR HER!!😤😤)

yeah i just think it's a great song, a bop and with an uplifting message in its lyrics 💕💕

(art appreciation ask questions, please bug me to rb some underrated art and fic)

[fireflies-grace]

I can't even. Upcoming : rant abt oc. Genshin

So. He's divorced, right. He met his wife when he was 25, and had shaved consistently because the girl he had fallen for and adored since childhood liked him with a clean face. Even though they never got together, he yearned for her love even though she was slightly toxic in the way she treated him.

When he met his now (dead) wife, he was stuck in an inherent, unhealthy cycle of denying his feelings and wanting to chase after his childhood best friend. (The only reason they knew each other is becuz their parents were business partners.)

He eventually falls for her, slowly and falls out of love w/ childhood best friend. He's actually lowkey so terrified of being rejected due to the many years of being ignored but to him, shes so sweet and she even fell in love at first sight, (before he transitioned and after too). It took abt 6 months until he finally owned up to his feelings and admitted it.

They had spent hours on a date, picking flowers, exploring sites and absolutely falling in love with each other. She gave him a flower crown that was slightly messed up but he loved it anyway, and happily placed it up in his head.

3 years, until the wedding (he's 28 and she's 29) and they find out she contracted a disease around 5-6 months later. It's not fatal and she still has time left but she will die. They both spend hours crying into each other's arms 'nd AUGH.

Around 4 years later now, they've had a child and she dies from childbirth due to the complications of the disease and it slowly affecting her health and they weren't even sure either of them were gonna make it in the first place, with the complication in place. He's stuck raising a baby he absolutely adores. His son whom he soon names after a flower in Mondstadt he had fell in love with. Aster.

4 years later (36) 'nd he's now suffering from being touchstarved, during this period he slowly gets better, and tries to make himself stronger for the sake of his child. He's raising his child wonderfully, makin sure Aster knows crying is absolutely, 100% ok for a boy, especially a young boy such as himself because goddamn a man can be tough and cry too. He bought Aster a little cape from Chioriya's boutique he regularly visits to get it patched up for him. He's extremely respectful towards Chiori, and others too. Only stepping out of line when his son is in danger and needs him. (Also canonically killed a man for trying to kidnap his son but ahem)

He's trained himself wonderfully over the years and is extremely overprotective over his son, who he absolutely adores and has a little secret code with. Mainly in a situation where someone will approach and one little hand squish means 'comfortable', two mean 'uncomfortable'.

He makes sure Aster has protection from his nightmares, telling him tales of valiant hero's to hopefully inspire, and give him hope for the future. Especially of the blonde traveller he's been hearing so much about. The god of Geo and Fontaine's Iudex, monsieur Neuvillette.

He keeps his dead wives ring, right next to his that he keeps nearly in a box that sits patiently on the shelf. Also gave Aster her bow, that sits adorning his hair on somedays, others as an ornament on his wrist since Aster fell in love with the bow at first sight.

He also may have garnered a light crush on the water/fish Adepti that he found roaming the waters of Liyue, 3 years after Aster was born and he found himself travelling to Liyue to visit Bubu pharmacy. By gods, his tan skin, dimples and blonde hair were beautiful to him.

Info:

36'

Single dad (dilf)

Has a bit of wrinkles under his eyes, and a soft yet sparce beard to match

Light, tan skin

Pastel(?) blue hair with a bit of white hairs

He's got scars a bit over his thighs and legs from swimming and scraping himself on rocks (He is NOT careful smtimes)

He overworks himself sometimes when at work (still figuring out his job but might make him an assistant for smone or a traveller maybe. Maybe.

6'0

His pronouns are he/him 'nd he's trans with top scars shaped a but like a heart. Slightly sharp but round eyes with light blue eyeliner

Yes. Man tits. And muscles from learning sword techniques and training) fighting. He's a sword/electro user

He has got soft skin, and absolutely uses lotion 100%, and uses some lotion on Aster too because no son of his is going to have dry ass skin

He's got a bit of a slim but muscle-y figure with some hip dips

Has a slight thing for canines

Absolutely HATES fatui members but may have fell for ones charm

Hair is 100% soft and braidable but also super easy to tangle, with a bun at the top, soon transitioning into a bit of a braid that shifts off into a loose pony tail (idk if I'm describing it right)

Will probably add more later

[cdroloisms]

do you have any,,,post prison mute dream stuff??? or like, severely quiet, silent and obedient dream shtuff?? and the consequences thereof??? bc im reading your drabbles and i am in literal awe

aww, thank you so much !! yeah selectively mute dream post prison is absolutely a hc i love and write smtimes - it’s already been suggested in canon, and it’s super fun to play w/ in post-canon works. here’s some fluffy syndicate!dream bc gosh knows we need it after the angst that we’ve been getting 

tw: implied torture, panic attacks, trauma - all v short mentions. this one’s definitely on the lighter side! :D

“I didn’t know you knew sign.”

Dream startles, arms flying to cover his face, and the crow he had been signing at squawks angrily when it turns towards Phil. He ignores its chatter, smoothing his own flinch behind a smile, lowering his wings, bringing his hands, palms up, in front of him at his waist - this song and dance has become all too familiar in the weeks that Dream’s resided with the Syndicate, and Phil is nothing if not patient.

Slowly, the boy uncurls from where he’d huddled into himself, arms clasped firmly around his ribs like someone will try and take them from him if he doesn’t hold on tight enough (and maybe, Phil thinks, imagining the messy lattice of scars underneath Dream’s loose-fitting hoodie that he has only seen a few times since they brought him over, someone has - but those are thoughts that are better left untouched for as long as he can manage it.) Dream’s eyes raise, flick over his face, his breathing quieting down from the discordant rattle it had been, and tentatively, ever slowly, he raises his good hand in a loose fist, letting it bob up and down. Yes.

Phil settles into the armchair across from him, raising his own hands. His fingers feel clumsy, but the memories come back with more ease than he would’ve expected - I know a little. Dream’s eyes don’t quite brighten, but his shoulders fall down from where they’d been hunched up to his ears, the hand he keeps tucked to his chest trembling slightly less, and it’s as much as a win as he’s ever going to get.

The silence stretches, familiar in its awkwardness, and Phil stifles a grimace as he forces long-forgotten memories to the surface. Dream’s hands, from what little he had seen from the doorway, had practically flown as he spoke to the crow still sitting by his right side - obviously practiced even with the still-healing injuries tracing over both arms. How did you learn?

We- He hesitates, left hand trembling violently, before pushing on, we all learned with- he signs a C, then lifts his hands to his head in a sign that Phil vaguely remembers as being the one for deer. Dream must see the questions written in his expression, because his cheeks flush as he backtracks. C-A-L-L-A-H-A-N, he finger spells, and Phil nods. That makes sense.

Some of the crows in the house must have noticed Phil’s arrival, because they storm into the room from the doorway, awkwardly hopping across the door with their wings waving by their sides as they eagerly voice their displeasure at the lack of attention. He’s not in the mood to pick out the words between their angry caws, so he simply watches as they scatter all over the room. Something almost like a smile tugs at Dream’s face as he watches them enter - the kid has grown inexplicably fond of both his flock and all of the assorted animals that Techno drags back into the house whenever he goes out, and Phil has long since resigned himself to being outnumbered one hundred to one by a literal army of mobs wherever he goes. Some of the crows had been pretty wary of Dream at the beginning, but after a few weeks more or less the entire flock has become viciously protective of the kid, sufficiently won over by gifts of head scratches and berries and various shiny things. Sure enough, the birds form a dark, squawking circle at Dream’s feet, a few flying up to tug impatiently at his clothes, and despite the (very obvious) favoritism, Phil smiles; the flock is good for Dream, as annoying as they can be.

DADZA, one calls, its lone cry soon echoed by the entire group of fluttering feathers gathered on the floor, DADZA AND DREAM DADZA DADZA. Phil laughs, a familiar warmth and exasperation filling his lungs, and he turns his attention back to Dream.

You up to some more? He tries; it’s a chance, for sure, and he brushes away the creeping anxiety crawling up his neck; he doesn’t want to make Dream panic, hopes that he’s doing the right thing. I could always use the practice.

Quiet, once again, only broken by the murmurs of his birds eagerly awaiting Dream’s answer as the boy rocks side to side in deliberation, and Phil is halfway through working out a frantic you don’t have to if you don’t want to when Dream raises his own hands.

Sure, he signs, a forced smile on his face but eyes still clear and bright, why not?

Somehow, they end up in a bastardized version of twenty questions, surrounded by birds that do not hesitate at any chance to voice their own opinions. They work through favorite colors (green), favorite flowers (roses for Dream, peonies for Phil), favorite mob (Phil answers this with a pointed definitely-not-crows, staring at the flock who have been shouting over themselves naming different colors for about five minutes, which immediately makes them devolve into screaming caws and divebombs at the edges of Phil’s cape that leave him thoroughly occupied for the next ten minutes), and at some point Phil falls further into the cushions of his chair and Dream’s legs lay against the sofa instead of being drawn up to his chest and it’s almost normal.

By the time Techno finds them, they’ve forgone structure all together, Dream watching intently as Phil signs out an embellished tale of one of the Antarctic Empire’s exploits with a crow held gently in his hands. Techno’s voice behind him startles him bad enough to send his wings snapping outwards, feathers standing on end, but Dream doesn’t react much beyond a twitch of his lips - he must’ve seen the piglin hybrid and tag-teamed to prank him, Phil realizes with a half-hearted grumble. Techno’s eyes sparkle mischievously, definitely planned, then.

“Hi Phil, Dream,” Techno shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over the back of Phil’s chair, “Looks like you’ve been busy. Can’t say I’m not feelin’ a bit left out, though; Phil, you never told me you knew sign language.”

“You never asked, mate,” he quips, even as Dream signs animatedly from the corner of his eye. T-E-C-H-N-O-L-O-S-T.

Techno narrows his eyes. “I get the feelin’ that you’re messin’ with me, nerd.” Dream blinks faux innocently, smiling wider, and Phil picks up on the bit. Oh, this is fun.

He can’t understand us, he assures Dream, feeling a wicked smirk of his own growing on his face. So what do you think for dinner?

“Phil- the betrayal!” Techno splutters, voice going high and pitchy, and that reaction alone would’ve made the prank more than worth it - but Dream’s shoulders shake, eyes glittering as his fingers fly almost too fast for Phil to catch, and oh, that’s laughter, tiny, breathless giggles falling from his lips, and Techno must catch it even as he begins to berate the voices in his head, “This is not a bruh moment, Chat, don’t you start-”

Stew? Dream signs, still snickering, and he looks happy, more than Phil has ever seen him, the sight of him smiling and bright-eyed with amusement almost enough to cover for the gaunt quality of his face, the pale scars left all over his skin.

Of course, mate, Phil signs back, throwing in a do you think T-E-C-H-N-O ended up lost in those same woods again for good measure, rewarded when it sends Dream into another round of giggles. Techno grumbles without any real heat behind it, plopping himself down in the remaining chair.

“Ok, nah, no more of this exclusive club; you guys are teachin’ me this tonight before Chat loses it - yes that was an insult, don’t you start it with the E’s,” and Phil laughs, hard, the flock cawing and beginning to spam E on their own, for some reason, and Dream signing through the alphabet with the biggest grin on his face, and-

“Oh, Prime, this is going to so scuffed,” Phil says, breathless, his warning unheeded as Techno finishes his rant at Chat to focus on Dream.

And it is scuffed - it is so fucking scuffed, between Phil’s lackluster memory and Techno’s frequent interrupting to quiet down an extremely rowdy Chat and the incessant calls of the flock further egging them on, but it’s warm and Dream doesn’t stop smiling and Techno looks more relaxed than he has in weeks and the helpless, singing urge of protect protect protect that has lived in Phil’s head ever since Techno had carried Dream, beaten and bloodied and broken, through their front door finally, finally, begins to quiet down.

He tunes back into the impromptu lesson - they’ve finished the alphabet, seemingly having moved onto common words and objects, and Dream- hesitates, raises his hand, all five fingers drawn together, to the corner of his mouth and then pulls it back. Home, he signs, moving to fingerspelling, H-O-M-E. Home.

For a moment, they’re all quiet, Dream’s hand still raised by his face, even the crows falling silent as they all stare at each other. Phil watches, breath caught in his throat, as the planes of Techno’s face soften, the teasing edge of his voice, for once, leaving. “Yeah, nerd. You’re home.”

Home, Dream signs again, then again, looking up, eyes bright, hopeful. Phil thinks, proudly, that it looks like a new beginning. I’m home.