#the scribbly but also like. everything is meant to be where its meant to be. you know what youre doing

[triglycercule]

triglycercule..

STOP I HAVENT FINISHED MY THANK YOU ART FOR THE FIRST BUNDLE OF JK AU DRAWINGS YOU SENT ME AND NOW YOURE GIVING ME THE FULL VERSION OF THE FOURTH ON E??? 🙁🙁‼️⁉️⁉️⁉️🙏🙏😭😭😭😭 THEH LOOK SO CUTE AND ADORABLE ANS PERFECT YOU DRAW THEM SO WELL I LOVE THE GRAYSCALE LOOK AND SEEINF THEM WITH LEGS THIS TIME IS SOOO CUTE I LOVE SEEING LEGWARMERS I M GENUINELY TEEKING GEEKING DYING IM SO THANKFUL FOR THIS‼️‼️‼️!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE A LEDGEND YIUR A GOD YOUR EVERYTHING THST THE WORLD NEEDED IM SO HAOPY SOMEONE DREW THE JK MTT I DIDN'T EVEN PUT THST MUCH EFFORT INTO IT.,,,,,.... theyre so happy they make ME so happy AND ASIDE FROM THST YOURE ACTUALLY SO GOOD AT ART THOUGH THIS IS JUST A sketch PROBABLY. clothing folds 🤤🤤🤤🤤 expressions 🤤🤤🤤🤤 hahhnds 🤤🤤🤤🤤 why do i feel like i shouldve see this artstyle from someone before. who are you gshaewru. what type of name is thatHUH??? NTBE TYPE OF NAMR AN AMAZING PERSON WOULD HAVE FOR THEIR UMBLR ACCOUNT YOURE SO AMAZING PLEASE DON'T DIE. ok but again thank you so much for the jk!mtt art i've never been more overjoyed in my life this is like a blessing from the gods themselves for me. NOBODY KNOWS HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME

[guitarstringed-scars]

on stage- s. hinata

whenever you're ready

masterlist

you put your phone away into your bag, straighten up your papers in front of you, and look up to the stage for the first audition. the girl who goes first is a familiar face, the lead in your last production, so obviously she gives the audition of a lifetime.

“she's good. i mean, obviously.” you lean over to akaashi, whispering once she exits the stage. akaashi scribbles something in his notes.

“i agree. i think she could easily play one of the leads.”

you shoot him a thumbs up as the next auditioner enters the stage, for possibly the most monotone audition of all time. you end that not as good one with a quick “thanks for auditioning!” 

this is going to be a long day.

18 auditions later, and its time for a well deserved break. you and akaashi head out to the lobby of the theater and stand in front of a busted up vending machine. 

“got a quarter? i've only got 2.” you ask, eyeing the m&ms sat in the second level of the machine. 

“nope, you could ask bokuto. He’s always carrying around loose change.”

“good plan.” great plan actually, you think, maybe he's with the ginger from earlier.

with that the both of you round the corner of the lobby, where you spot the trio of volleyball players.  

oikawa notices you two first, “well if it isn't the famous writer and less famous director!” 

bokuto and the other guy turn to you two quickly. ignoring oikawa, you turn to bokuto. “Do you have a quarter?”

oikawa frowns once he realizes he's being ignored.

“yup! what do you need it for?” “vending machine around the corner.” 

the ginger cuts into the conversation at this point, “theres a vending machine here?” he asks excitedly.

“yeah, its just around the corner! want me to show you?” you respond, hopefully not sounding too eager. you shoot keiji a quick side eye, and he fortunately catches your drift.

“i'll stay behind, i'm not super hungry.”

“i'm shoyo by the way!”

“so...whats it like directing plays?” he asks, finally figuring out where to put his collection of quarters. you swiftly put your phone down.

“uhm...it's really fun. getting to direct has always been a big dream of mine, and getting to actually do it is super great, even if it's a play instead of a movie. this show might be my favorite so far. why'd you decide to audition?”

he punches in the number combination for his drink of choice, “oikawa told me i had to, but now that i'm here watching the auditions, i'm super excited! everything about it seems so cool!"

you both laugh. the vending machine clangs as the drink hits the bottom of the chute. he picks it up and hands it to you.

“i'm hoping this will convince the director to cast me.” he smiles at you, hand outstretched.

"bribery doesn't work on me,” you laugh and accept the drink, “just have a decent audition, and you'll be fine. thanks though.” 

shooting him a quick, nervous smile, you turn back into the empty theater and have a seat at the empty table.

15 mediocre auditions later, oikawa is finally up on stage. he performs the monologue perfectly, and is met by audience applause once he finishes and takes a bow. you roll your eyes, but smile at him anyway, shooting him a thumbs up. it was a perfect auditon to be fair, not that you'd ever tell him that. after torus dazzling performance, shoyo takes the stage.

“woah! how am i meant to follow that up!” he exclaims. you grin at him from the audience.

“you can start whenever you're ready.”

a/n: woohoo 2 chapters in 1 day and first meeting of shoyo and yn!!! i really like this chapter, even though theres a lot more writing than smau, but dont worry there will be a lot of smau in the next part! also i'm starting to plan a second fic, and i'm still trying to decide which character to use, so expect a poll coming soon for that!

taglist: @yuminako @mylahrins @/intergalacticrory @zzzlevislothzzz @hibernatinghamster @shoyosluver @/walllflowerrrsss

if you arent underlined i cant tag you !

[riddles-fiddles]

Hey, its me again! I just had another idea for a fic!! Leona and/or Silver with a s/o Yuu who likes to take naps with them and cuddle. They also don't mind where those naps take place, Leona wants to sleep in the botanical garden? He needs to make space for his herbivore. Silver accidentally falls asleep while they're studying? Looks like a sleepover to Yuu!

My gods, I love those kind of fluffy scenarios so much T_T also thank you for requesting for my baby Silver! I was aching to be able to write for him some time!!! <3

Synopsis: just cuddling and falling asleep in each other's arms Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Silver Tags: SFW, fluff, cozy lovey scenario Notes: implied narcolepsy by Silver's part, sorry if this feels too short </3

"Don't you have some classes to attend, herbivore?" Leona scoffs with contained annoyance as you motion to sit down beside him, leaning against the tree he was unsuspiciously sleeping against just some seconds ago - you should know by now that he is far from happy every time someone comes to wake him up. He doesn't even need to open his eyes to know it's you; he knows your scent and the way your shoes clap on the floor with a certain rythm, so he's not as tense and irritated as expected when being disturbed by someone else.

His ears twitch with curiosity when your response to his harsh remark is to simply chuckle with an amused tone, your low tone welcoming his attention in a way only you could capture. "Actually, I just thought it would be nice to nap a bit. My class is taking flight, so it's not like I'll miss much on the lessons."

Leona merely hums with lazy understanding at your reasons, crossing his arms above his chest as he shifted slightly, trying to make himself comfortable again, and when you lay your head on his shoulder, he goes stiff for a moment, careful to stay as still as possible as you snuggle closer to his body, skin shivering by the welcoming feeling of your warm hands wrapping around his waist in a loose hug.

A low sigh of contentment falls from his lips as he finally adjusts, tilting his head to carefully rest over the top of yours in a silent, humble act of affection and protectiveness. Leona takes in the sweet, relaxing scent of your hair, the enveloping heat that your body radiates a beacon of reassurance and bliss for him. Leona reveled on the way you effortlessly worked his heart to beat faster for your innocent antics, and at the same time relax at your comforting embrace, your rythmic breath lulling him to sleep.

Next time he's out searching for good spots to nap, Leona hopes that you'll be ditching classes again, and this time he'll be sure to bring a blanket too, just in case.

It doesn't matter where Silver is sleeping, as long as he can feel you within his reach, anywhere is good enough. Most of times he fell asleep without even noticing it, he would feel embarrassed, knowing it was mostly in public places and it meant exposing his vulnerability to others.

But then you came along on his life, and somehow you're always by his side on those moments of what feels like black-outs for him, always looking and caring for his unconscious self. Though Silver recognizes how much his condition can be difficult to deal with, he's glad that it's still something you two can bond upon; he's the most happy when you seek him to cuddle lazily until you two slip off to a comfortable slumber.

When you invite Silver over Ramshackle Dorm to study together for your exams, you're already aware of his sudden sleepiness, so you set everything you think might be useful; food, plenty of water, a stimulating playlist to listen to while you scribble down important notes. You even wrote down a quiz regarding the most important tests to help memorize.

Silver sits in front of the small table on the lounge, brows furrowed and auroral eyes intensely scrapping every sentence on the alchemy book with resolute determination. You can't help but sometimes glance over your notebook to appreciate his focused expression, or check on him to make sure he was still awaken, pulling small talk to break the silence and keep Silver from dozing off.

But you're half an hour through the first test, and when you lift your eyes off the book to ask him something, you notice Silver's face slumped over his notes, a peaceful glow over the fair features. With a knowing sigh, you wrap a blanket over his shoulders before setting by his side, carefully snuggling under his arms - and even asleep, Silver seems to notice the press of your body, welcoming you to indulge on his embrace by wrapping an arm around you, instinctively coming closer to you. A delighted smile tugs at the corner of his lips, your touch and the warmth of your body a soothing reassurance for his sleepy consciousness.

[jigujellee]

(gif creds: kimlipz)

YOUR VOICE IS MY FAVORITE SOUND -> while helping yunjin write her new song, you realize that there's more to her than her loud goofball self.

yunjin x 6th member!reader FLUFF >> word count: 1.4k warnings: none bc fluff is meant to be soft and gushy

a/n: here's me apologzing for the yunjin angst <3 to avoid any confusion - this is NOT a prequel to "love the way you lie" nor is it related in any way; this is its own thing where reader and yunjin are happily together bc they deserve it; enjoy soft and whipped y/n while i try to get angsty again

even with the water running, kazuha and eunchae could be heard in the background, giggling at whatever they were watching on the older girl’s phone.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t help you tonight y/n. i’ll do the dishes tomorrow okay?” your leader says as she magically emerges from her bedroom and immediately snakes her arms around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“i don’t mind cleaning up unnie, it���s really okay” chaewon hums in response while you place the last bowl on the dish rack to dry.

“where’s yunjin unnie?”

“in her room. i think she’s writing again”

you smile at the thought of your girlfriend trying to write a song. you could easily imagine the way she scrunches her nose while trying to figure out a chord progression, or the way her tongue slightly pokes out as she writes down lyrics in her notebook.

“maybe you should go help her instead of standing here and smiling like a creepy idiot” chaewon interrupts.

“for a moment, i forgot you were here” you joke as you playfully wipe your wet hands on her face.

“ya y/n!! i just did my skincare routine!” she yells while aggressively wiping her face on your shirt, which earned chaewon a playful slap on the shoulder.

once you finish wiping down the counters and tucking in eunchae’s chair (she swears her new year’s resolution is to push in her own chair), you walk towards yunjin’s bedroom. her door is ajar and from where you were standing, you could hear her hum a melody and attempt to strum a few chords. her back is to the door so she’s unaware that you’re leaning against her doorframe, admiring the art that is huh yunjin herself. you watch as she puts her pen down and clears her throat before singing;

it’s kind of shitty isn’t it? not the way we pictured it feels like an existential crisis or am i being dramatic? i wish the world would shut its mouth

“give me space to… sort all this shit out? no that doesn’t sound good” she grunts, and yunjin drops the guitar pick to replace it with her pen, scribbling out what she previously wrote. she sings the same line over and over, and just as she’s about to give up, you finally break your silence and offer a suggestion.

give me space to fucking sort it out?

yunjin’s head immediately turns around, you’re worried it might have given her whiplash. as soon as your eyes meet, you watch a smile grow on her face and you return the gesture with a smile of your own as you walk towards her bed.

“give me space to fucking sort it out,” yunjin tests the way it sounds before continuing on;

like i’m fine, just leave me alone i’m great on my own

you can’t help but stare at yunjin, watching the crinkles on her forehead when she sings and listening to how soft and melodic her voice is.

“honey, you’re staring”

“am i not allowed to admire you, my love?”

“it’s making me shy,” she admits, pink blush slowly painting her cheeks resulting in another smile on your face.

it's rare for yunjin to openly admit when she's shy. though her mbti says she's an introvert, you'd believe she's everything but that when you get to know her. she was a loud goofball most of the time and you absolutely loved her for that. but you also loved her in moments like this; when she’s quiet, focused, and vulnerable. yunjin always felt shy whenever she showed you the songs she wrote, and you’ll never forget about the time she admitted that it feels like she’s naked and bare in front of you when she presents her own creations.

you then realize you don't need to physically touch her to feel close to her - you feel her heart and soul in every word she sings, and you believe it’s the closest you’ll ever be to yunjin.

“helloooo anyone there? looks like someone’s staring again”

“well i think it sounds like an amazing song already” you say, finally breaking out of your daze.

“oh stop it, you’re just saying that because i’m your girlfriend”

“i’m saying it because it’s true. now sing some more, i’ll help with the chords”

now it’s yunjin’s turn to stare as she watches you take her acoustic guitar out of her hands, and grab her electric guitar instead.

“now look who’s staring” you say while plugging the guitar into an amp and start tuning it.

“i’m just lucky to have a girlfriend who’s talented like you”

you never liked to brag about your talent, but yunjin wasn’t lying. you’ve always loved anything and everything to do with music, and you would beg your parents to get you any instrument they could get their hands on - piano, guitar, drums, bass, and even violin. at some point during your trainee days, you even learned how to produce and mix songs. by definition, you were indeed an ace but you didn’t like admitting it and you’d playfully roll your eyes whenever the other members called you their ace.

“just sing darling” yunjin momentarily gushes at the pet name prior to singing, just as you requested.

i don’t know what i’d be doing without you you love who i am cause i don’t care as long as i’m with you i’ll reach for your hand

you couldn’t even bring yourself to try and come up with a chord progression; you wanted to hear that voice over and over for the rest of your life.

along with her heavenly voice, you also admired yunjin’s penmanship. you could tell her lyrics always came from the deepest parts of her heart and after hearing what she just sang, you feel your heart swell - you were just so amazed and proud at what she was capable of doing.

“go again,” and so she did. you asked her to sing about 3 or 4 more times before she realized you weren't even strumming anything.

“baby, are you gonna play or what?”

you chuckled and asked her to sing once more, with you actually playing the guitar this time.

“how was that?” she asks as you two wrapped up the song, and you notice her fidgeting with the corner of the page of her notebook. hearing her ask for feedback brought you back to the days you’d spend by her side while she’d practice before her monthly evaluation. it's a bittersweet memory for they were the moments you cherished the most but were also considered some of the toughest times in your career.

you don’t answer her and instead lean in to kiss her soft lips. of course, she enthusiastically returns the kiss causing her to drop her pen and notebook to wrap her arms behind your neck.

“ew,” says the leader from outside yunjin’s door. “close the door next time, eunchae might see you two,” and you look at yunjin before bursting out into laughter with her.

-

“3, 2, 1!” the staff counts down and the 6 of you blow the candles on the cake they prepared for you.

“happy 100 days to us!” eunchae yells while taking pictures of the cake and the decorations surrounding you.

after posing for pictures, the staff begins to play yunjin’s song through the speakers. everyone, including you, cheers and congratulates her for the release of her own solo song. you make your way towards her and embrace her lovingly, ignoring the sound of your other members fake gagging.

“you made a wonderful song, mahal”

“no, we did” she chuckles.

“you know what i think? we should write another song together and perform it on our wedding day”

yunjin feels her heart burst at the mention of your wedding. although it wouldn’t happen anytime soon, it brings so much excitement and leaves her to wonder what else was in store for the two of you, and also for the group.

she tries to lean in for a kiss but unfortunately, you're torn apart when chaewon and kazuha pull her away to take pictures while eunchae and sakura invite you to start eating the cake. yunjin's song comes to a close as you stare at your members and staff, and you smile as you think about all the memories you’ve made together while looking forward to the future of le sserafim.

but raise your glass, to the story of us.

[starssunsoftheinfinite]

so. I have been plagued. By thoughts.

Mainly of Loki. Loki being soft. Like,, male! Reader being so exhausted and unable to do much so. He takes care of them?? If that makes sense?

(Feel free to ignore!)

-💚

Sorry for the long wait! Stuff got pretty busy lol. This was a really fun thing to get me in the writing mood again though! There's another ask in my inbox so I'll get to that after! I just chose this one first since I knew it would be more low key (pun intended) and shorter.

I also wrote this on my phone so apologies if its a little odd looking I'm not sure if it'll translate well on laptops.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fluff/comfort

Male reader x loki

Pet names used (sweet boy, pet, love, my darling, dear (for loki))

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day had been overwhelmingly hard and incredibly overbearing. So much had happened at work, the job Loki insists you need not do on Midguard but you insist you do your part despite your lovers royal status securing more than enough money for the both of you. It was a retail job and while that may sound simple any mortal such as your self would know otherwise. Heimdall brings you back to Asgard and can already tell your warn out, satchel bairly handing onto your shoulder. "ah, y/n. You look well." he said in a genuine tone but it was clear by the smug look he was giving he meant to tease. You roll your eyes playfully "ha ha" you said, tilting your head to emphasise each exaggerated laugh. "Loki is waiting for you in your chambers." Heimdall says helpfully, smiling softly and giving a nod to urge you down the rainbow bridge. The walk was long and tireing, your thighs and calves hurt already, the hours of standing causing them strain, so a long walk was not ideal. Finally you pressed your palm against the cool gold doors of your shared bedroom and you throw your bag onto the armchair in the corner. "be careful you may break something" Loki teased and you roll your eyes, you've done that a lot today. You sit at your desk, planning to doodle. Nothing serious just mindless scribbles until your mind feels less like bile. You pull out the drawer and take out a pencil then go to sharpen it. Snap. The led breaks. Snap. It breaks again. Snap- "ugh!" you yell. Loki had already been keeping an eye on you, easily able to tell something was testing your patience. His eyes widen and he stands from where he lay on the bed, shutting his book. "Love? Are you quite alright?" he whispers softly, standing beside you but not too close, wanting to give you your space. "Im- mm" you barely begin the second word before your face is scrunching up and you whimper. Today had been so difficult but now you'd been pushed over the edge by something so small. Hands reach out to cup your face, crouching down a little to your sitting level "oh my sweet boy, no, don't cry. It's alright. I'm here my Darling." he cooes and you sink into his touch, whimpering and quivering. "today has been difficult hasn't it pet?" all you could do was nod. There was a comfortable silence between you two as he held you close. "up to your feet sweet boy, come to bed with me." he offers, gently helping you out of your seat and leading you to the soft sheets and comfort of bed. Loki crawls in and opens his arms, motioning you to lay against his chest and you happily do so. He runs his fingers through your hair" everything will be all right my love, everything will be alright. "he soothes and it's like his words are law. Your muscles loosen and your head grows empty, far too focused on the calming sound of his voice the gentle touch of his hands." there you are. No need to worry or fret. I am here. You are safe here. " he hummed. As the world melted away and all you could hear was Lokis voice and the comforting continuous sound of his heart beat, all you could feel was his hands on your skin and in your hair, and all you could smell was the warm scent of his lavender shampoo and black cherry soap, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier. "that's it sweet boy, you deserve rest. Take as much as you need. I will be right here when you wake. I promise." he hooked a finger under your jaw and tilted your head up ever so slightly. He craned his neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I love you, my sweet Prince." he whispers and a small smile graces your lips "I love you too Dear.." your sentence trailed off into silence and soft breaths.

[hiemaldesirae]

do you have some fluffy headcanons about husk and vox bonding? 🥺

just for you, heres some fun little dad!husk morsels

husk and rosie were originally friends before rosie nd alastor became friends, and they were walking together in cannibal town on the day that vox fell. when they noticed the newly fallen sinner, husk decided to take him in originally as a means of promotion for his casino (not that he didnt already have techheads, but a full crt television? not many of those were walking around hell)

vox was kind of distrustful of husk at first, but one day, he malfunctioned while on the job and when he woke up, he found himself inside one of the casino's private rooms with a blanket draped over him and a glass of water on the table next to the couch. to vox, who had seen the kind of shit that other overlords do to their workers when they stop being useful, this was something that made him start to trust husk more

though a lot of people thought otherwise, husk never actually contracted vox for his soul. it had been a passing curiosity at first, he had only meant to pick up the naive sinner for fun and would have passed him off to someone else once he stopped being entertaining- but somewhere along the way, husk started to see the kid as something more than a mere form of entertainment

they used to bond at the bar after closing, where husk would teach vox how to play card games and bartend and such. to this very day the only person who can beat vox in card games is husk

husk gifted vox most of his early wardrobe. after husk lost his overlord status and vox rose to his own, he still wore all the clothes that husk gave him

against popular opinion, voxs suit isnt actually supposed to resemble alastor's- he actually referenced it from husk's overlord suit. whenever someone remarks on him looking like alastor (assuming they havent made up yet) he fries them and tells the press that actually, its modelled after a *far* better and more powerful overlord than the radio demon

after they meet again vox gifts husk several electronic devices where they can talk through

he sends husk a bunch of indecipherable memes and stupid quotes that the other vees say

husk has them saved and sometimes bursts out laughing in the middle of nowhere when he thinks about voxs memes

vox used to create a lot of inventions and floor plans for husks casino. not all of them went through the initial planning stages but husk put up all his drafts on the walls (like in the way a parent would put up their kids silly little scribbles up on the fridge)

vox and husk are very competitive when it comes to table games. the hazbin gang once had a game night where they played monopoly and husk and vox ended up yelling so loud at each other vox short circuited half of pentagram citys electricity and husk ended up dive bombing his kid (they had to explain to the others that it was just playfighting before angel and alastor started joining in on the attack)

husk has a secret sweet tooth. this is the reason why vox knows how to bake but not how to cook

back when vox was newly fallen he used to have nightmares. when husk and him got closer, husk used to cradle the other to sleep in his wings

vox used to call husk vati (affectionate nickname for father in german) and husk used to call him kotyonok (<- phonetic spelling of kitten in russian)

they do still do it sometimes but its less now bc everyone around them makes it awkward

also sometimes husk used to take vox flying when he got too "pent up" over work and such

nowadays, vox takes husk through data streams sometimes when al's being too hard on the bartender

also, just for fun because transfem!vox lives in my head:

husk is the first one she tells, assuming they both kept in contact even after he lost overlord status

his first reaction is to take her downtown for a shopping spree (she pays for everything and doesnt let him touch a single cent but she's just glad to go on a trip with him)

[darlingillustrations]

I'm Gay

When I was eight years old, I wrote my first poem. I remember the moment the words came to me. I was lying in bed at night, the lines rattling through my brain, startling sleep away. I turned on my pencil-shaped bedside lamp, grabbed my pink diary and huddled up underneath the little roses on my wallpaper to scribble the words down before they were lost to me forever. I re-read them over and over, letting them seep into my mind as I drifted off to sleep, so full of mystery and fascination at this new craft that had opened up to me.

The next day, I showed the poem to my mother. It was a love poem, and the only thing she said was, “Why is this written to a woman?”

I didn’t know.

In high school, I also didn’t know why I enjoyed turning around in psychology class to chat with the girl with the cool beaded purse who sat behind me. I didn’t get it why I was so tongue tied around the girl in college with the mousy brown hair and soft floral skirts. After graduation, I still didn’t understand why the scrawny girl with facial piercing who I worked with at the coffeeshop held such a deep place in my heart that I’d give anything to make her smile.

The day I nervously confessed to my parents that I no longer wanted to be in the Church of Christ, the religion they’d raised me in, and that I’d been going to an Episcopal church, they laughed in relief.

“We were worried you were going to tell us you were a lesbian,” they said, wiping tears of joy from their eyes.

It never occurred to me that I could be a lesbian because I was attracted to guys. I didn’t realize that bisexuality was a thing. It wasn’t until 2016 that I started to face the truth about myself. After the attack on the Pulse nightclub, I felt deeply and inexplicably unsafe, and after months of soul searching, I came to realize it was because the people who had been attacked, the LGBT men and women, I was part of their community. They were me. I was LGBT.

As part of my journey, I was asked to exhibit my art at the Pierce County AIDS Foundation. I wanted to share something that was representative of the LGBT community, and that’s how my Affectionate Animal series was born. I chose vintage photos as my source images because I loved the nostalgic feeling they evoked. I wanted to offer the feeling that being gay was a normal thing.

The funny thing is: when I painted these first nine couples, I didn’t yet realize my own truth.

Coming out to myself was about self acceptance. When I told Matt, he asked me what this meant for our marriage. I said it meant nothing: instead of choosing him over half the world population, it meant I chose him over all of the world population. But when Matt left me (for other reasons), some of my close friends whom I’d trusted with my secret blamed me for him leaving. “He’s been through a lot,” they said.

I was scared to tell anyone. For a long time I only told people who were gay, and I spent a lot of time online, on tumblr, living an invisible life, coming to terms with what my sexuality meant.

That’s where I met my first girlfriend. She flew cross country to visit me and I flew cross country to visit her. We fell in love with each other and each other’s kids, and I was going to fly out with the girls to spend Christmas with her, until she broke up with me suddenly and then blocked my phone number before ever explaining why everything was ending.

They say your first heartbreak after a divorce is the worst. When you get divorced, there’s too much other stuff in the way that inhibits the grieving process, so when your first heartbreak after divorce hits you, all that pent up grief rears its ugly head and devastates you. In short, that’s what happened to me. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I kept throwing up for weeks. I lashed out at people, then became disgusted with myself for acting like such a monster and fell into a pit of despair. My body felt like knives were stabbing me, raking my arms from the inside out. My chest felt cavernous. I felt beyond gutted. I felt like I was in tatters.

God bless my therapist, because she texted with me through the worst of it, assuring me that this is what grief felt like. I’d tell her I was scared of the depression. She said I was strong enough to weather a little depression. I took comfort in that. Deep down I knew she was right.

I started cleaning my house. It wasn’t much, but a little every day gave me a sense of normalcy. I signed up for the Motivated Moms checklist so that I wouldn’t have to think about what I was supposed to do. I could just do it.

On Friday, my checklist said to spend time on a craft or hobby. I spent more time scratching my head trying to figure out what I was interested in than I did playing my guitar once I finally remembered I liked to sing. On Sunday I was paralyzed by the suggestion to pamper myself. How does someone pamper themselves? I googled it and read dozens of suggestions before I felt inspired by the suggestion to give myself flowers.

I’d always thought that, when I was with my girlfriend for Valentine’s Day, we’d do some sappy romantic thing, and I’d post sappy pictures & let people draw whatever conclusions they wanted to about our relationship. Now that I’m single again, I guess I’m coming out of the closet anyways. I’m not doing it for another person. I’m doing it for myself. Because, at the end of the day, lovers come and go, but there is one person who will love me for my entire life, and that person is me. And it doesn’t take a parent or a husband or a girlfriend to validate my loveliness. I am loved. I am darling. And I am complete, just as I am.

I don’t know why God made me this way, but this is the way I am. I don’t fall in love with people because of what’s in their pants, but because of what’s in their heart. So, in closing, I’d like to share with you the poem I wrote when I was eight years old, long before I knew what the depths of my heartache might bring:

Beauty Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight, Your legs tremble fast, Your voice can sing the wonders, And your ears can hear me laugh, Your nose smells the flowers that I bring to you in prize, Your legs can run freely, And your hands can hold my thighs. But you’re the one in my mind, The wonders that I dream, For you are so beautiful, The wonders of my dreams.

I like to think that, maybe, the woman I’d written it for was, in fact, myself.

[ This essay first appeared on my blog on February 14, 2019, and it is how I came out publicly to my friends, family and the world. I want to repost it here to tumblr in the hopes that it might resonate with you. ]

[enoughyi]

#10: A Hole In The Breeches

Ship: Imelda Reyes x f!MC (Julia Wright) x Poppy Sweeting

Summary: Helping Julia was Imelda's area of contemplation but as it always was a snake biting its own tail yet again, an inner doubt found its resolution. This time, however, it was more of a hitting revelation.

Prompt Number: 31. Kiss at dusk. [>>>link to the list]

Word count: 1555. Rating: T-M.

A/N: It's brainrot-powered. Characters are in their 20's.

I'm a tad busy, hence the absence, but I couldn't miss June 30th. But it also means I didn't really beta anything, so in advance; I'm sorry.

Rated M, partly; because Poppy. SLICE OF LIFE BTW.

Tags: @thriftstorebabayaga @espressoristretto-patronum @boxdstars @celestial--sapphic @caramel-hufflepuff @myokk @theladyofshalott1989

Sometimes Imelda felt a sting of unfairness, when looked at Julia.

This mad, unstoppable, relentless woman seemed never to know any rest from her endless journey along the flow of research; rarely had a complaint on spending days in the brewery -- she called her wee lab this -- if not counting an inceasing hissing when her back would tell, if not scream at her to get to at a more suitable accommodation; she would never let out a book, and what it would be only a whim of her would know; last and certainly not least, Julia was obsessively doing more than anyone Imelda knew ever would.

No witch or wizard of her or Poppy's knowing would attempt or try to renovate a house in the muggle way. Cook like muggles do, making a bother of knives and pots. Installed a stove, took so much pride in it, to everyone's surprise, only to down their brows when the first colds of the year came and wouldn't sip in, ever, as the heat would induce the feel of summer, pertained, enclosed and stuck within these walls.

Julia was doing so much and had little to nothing said about it, other than an occasional skepticism, in Imelda's mind. Her and Poppy's life achievements would instantly fade out beside Julia's. She deserved to be recognised, to be praised, but then Imelda would always recall Julia's reaction of a scowl.

She had done so much and was awkward at taking a compliment.

"You're proud of your flying, because it is a skill. You learnt and what you have was earned, and rightfully so it was. But I was born to this magic, and my sharp mind; it was inherited and is yet to surpass the achievements of my late mother. None of these things are of my own making, Melly, I have simply borrowed them," she'd say.

Maddening woman, Julia was.

And Poppy? Credit where it's due, she knew Julia longer than she did; if that imbuing sense of achieving more for seemingly the sheer sake of it was Julia's goal, no wonder Pops called her Draught of Peace.

Hardly a thing could be a disturbance to this woman. Even pinching her from behind when she was busying with food, seemingly lost in thoughts and haphazardly scribbling something in a notebook with an enchanted pen, couldn't annoy her in a sense Imelda did secretly expect. Wouldn't she need a little help? Instead, her gesture has never crossed Julia's mind any other way than what was usually intended.

Then, Imelda would ask, to clarify it wasn't anything salacious this time around, if she needed anything. Julia would simply say, didn't she have resting days? "Yes but you could certainly have a helping hand?"

"No, and I meant, there is no need," she'd answer, a tired but satisfied smile stuck in her voice. A quick glance at the notebook would reveal symbols after symbols describing what Imelda could remember were alchemical processes -- or were they, potioneers, these timid people, always wrote in ciphers or, no, hieroglyphics, like mathematicians?

"Just when I thought you are still grieving over your Charms NEWT."

"I still am."

"But look at this, you've mastered them. Remember McDowell? The girl still burns everything she touches."

"She performed better than I did," and on that note of pure sulking, Imelda felt a light kiss would liven Julia. It certainly did, her cheeks flashed with delightful pink, but her eyes remained stuck at the stove before her, and no thought was behind that stare other than a some non-relevant exam to her career at the construction firm in London, her current job, to any of her numerous hobbies and interest, to any of her researches, thoughts, wits; Aesop Sharp, damn, was her best friend and taught her beyond Hogwarts' curriculum. And she dared to drown in sap of past, non-important mistakes that to Professor Ronen were simply this, too.

Julia needn't his subject per se, lest she wanted to become Theory for Magic professor to continue Fig's foolhardy attempts at… what was he researching again?

"More important is that you seem to have forgotten you need to rest, too," Imelda reminded.

"But I'm resting. Every time I think of something enjoyable, write it down and continue moving onwards with my research. Unless, you remember, my back."

"Want to sit by with me?" Imelda knew she didn't have to ask twice. Julia was quick to move from the stove to a cosy couch -- another of her kitchen prides -- and solaced by warmth, felled limp in Imelda's arms. Her pen still scribbled something, however, and so hastily it was tearing through the page. "Jools, your pen." It stopped. Then, as Julia's wand suddenly flickered in her hand, both notebook and pen gravitated towards the table and lain themselves at where no plate would stand in just few long tens of minutes before dinner.

Behind the windows, a smokefall.

And through this majestically glittering mist, along the trail of little fairies, the subtle silhouette of Poppy was moving closer to the door. Like Julia, she preferred to enter the house via the kitchen door. Why, as Imelda once asked unsolicited, turned into a grim story. Poachers.

Wicked people, they had eaten off their own children; remaining unseen and unheard, crawling for the food storage in the middle of nights to steal enough for lunch the next day…

Poppy spoke about it all so calmly, not a dirgeful tremble in her voice, but was it -- was it truly calm or held so because Poppy was telling above Julia's sleeping, deaf ear; yet her skin could catch the strange tremble of the air of her anxious whisper. Julia would've hated to see her upset; cursed all poachers heard a strain in her voice. Was it also the reason why Julia was relentless?

And wasn't Imelda trying to ruin what's been sewn long before she became another key stone of this whole relationship.

Tonto, tonto niña.

When Poppy entered, she immediately jumped at them to ask if Julia had yet again overworked herself. Julia replied, she didn't, it was just getting late, and she would come up with more excuses. Imelda cut her off, "Obviously she was, she rejected my help again."

"Don't do that again," Poppy meant it jokingly, but meant nonetheless and Julia couldn't escape her judgement, leaning tiredly on Imelda's shoulder. "I'll--"

"But you just came!" Julia sat up. "Take a seat, I'll--"

Imelda retorted, "Crumple on the floor? Forget it, be a good wee little princess and sit with Pops, I'll have use of myself for once."

Julia's pouting was met with Poppy's lecturing; Julia could stand her wishes empalingly sharp but not against Poppy. This woman would never tolerate any form of self-deprecation or self-neglect, she saw no romance in what felt an unwarranted sacrifice, a needless fatigue, that something pertaining to Julia's whole act of doing the home. It was her wish, Imelda knew. Poppy's wish was to do it, to, together.

Imelda listened to them for few moments, until the dinner was ready to be served. As she placed first plates, Julia was saying, "But I don't know, Poppy. I need all this for research, too."

"Research?" Imelda cut in. "Have I heard you right? You are thinking of research doing laundry? What exactly are you studying off my dirty breeches?"

"Your dirt-smeared, butt-worn, holed atrocity inspired a hypothesis the other day!"

"Melly," Poppy inclined, "don't, she is just like that."

"Like that! I like that, It's vital to my job! I can't solve another cryptic recipe if I'm not tending the garden, or strolling, or throwing gnomes, or cooking, or--"

"Are you telling me my favourite breaches have a hole on the arse now."

"That whole region has come off, sorry, I didn't know how to tell you."

Imelda put the kettle down with a muffled thud. "And you threw them away???"

"Not yet but I just might if you're so against me to do more work here, around our house, such as patching this thing."

"Why though?" Poppy asked, mouth half-full of baked potato. "Burn them?"

"They're my breeches!"

"But do not you understand patching them will fuel a theory?"

"Shut it!" Imelda demanded. "What kind of argument is that! Forget it! Are you still… doing this… after all those years, even when!.."

Julia pecked, "Always. Do not you, too, to name an example, do not you come up with strategies when, hm, doing me?"

"Fuck! Julia! No!"

"Tending the garden?"

"No."

"Or when strolling down to the Pitch on a sunny day?"

"Not really, every thing of what you've just mentioned is my relaxation and not a job. It stays where it belongs. At the club's dormitory. Just so you're aware. It has no place inside your--"

"Now you shut it," Poppy asked. "The only pussy here is our cat."

Sammy the Kneazle, a middle-aged kneazle of a gorgeous iridescent sable colour, was resting on top of a counter near his food stand.

He lifted his head at Poppy called him, while Julia was blinking at Imelda, in turn staring at her holding a nervous laughter.

Julia was a maddening woman. Stubborn. Deaf to the word of care and advice sometimes; something Aesop-damn-Sharp noticed, too.

But unlike Poppy, she couldn't render speechless with just a word.

[pomplalamoose]

Can we please have some luke fluff hc’s?🙏 from any era idc i just love your writing💗

Thank you so much, anon!!! <33

I'm so on board for more lighthearted Luke content to warm our hearts, it's what he deserves🤝🏻

Also I veered into kinda new territory for me; while many of these take place in the Star Wars universe as normal, I included some modern day AU ones too

• the Jedi are taught to take extra care of their clothing and appearance because whenever they're out and about they take on a mostly representative role, whether they want to or not

• this also includes learning how to correctly mend and take care of their belongings

• I don't think that this was at the very front of Luke's education though, Obi-Wan and Yoda really had more pressing conditions to work with

• however, as everyone can clearly see, nobody had to specifically tell Luke about this

• (just look at the man)

• not only did he grow up with maybe one (1) relatively good fitting outfit, I'm also sure that because of this he was taught how to fix holes and re do seams as well as sewing his buttons back on himself

• I'm even convinced he's able to make a simple pair of pants and a shirt from scratch should it be really necessary

• something about the picture of you and Luke sitting together on a warm summer evening or during a winter night and you watching him silently working away is just the peak of domesticity

• he enjoys fixing clothes, especially if by doing so he can do a favor to those he loves

• I think in a way it calms him too

• he'd definitely help out his Padawans with it as well

• I firmly believe he owns a small sewing kit, complete with a thimble

• (maybe two: one he's actually using and a second hand made one out of porcelain because he thinks it's really pretty)

• maybe, in addition and if he has the time, he'd try out similar activities like crocheting, knitting, stitching, etc.

• I don't think he'd be very good at it but everything he crafts is made with love and there is no one around who doesn't appreciate his efforts

• imagine him knitting little socks and hats and scarves for all of his students

• for some reason he really struggles with online tutorials though

• they're always going too fast, he can't see what exactly it is they're showing, and often times they're just overcomplicating really simple steps

• he finds this to be very frustrating

• he probably uses a very (very!) old fashioned book to learn instead

• its margins are full of scribbles of its previous owners and Luke adds his own

• he draws smiley faces next to the patterns he likes most

• Luke is a DIY king

• something that really comes in handy as a Jedi master

• at the very beginning, just at the start of his own academy, he definitely did most of the occurring tasks himself, also including preparing the meals for everyone

• he's a decent cook but I think he'd get really into baking

• baking bread is one of his favorite free time activities

• my sister insists upon the fact that he'd make the absolute best focaccia

• (or its Star Wars equivalent at least)

• he really likes trying out new recipes, especially those he never heard about before

• with varying degrees of success, as some of them are not meant to be made by humans

• but worry not, nothing is getting wasted

• Luke's collection of little fish friends is always happy to eat the remaining crumbs

• (for those that don't know what I'm talking about, check out my other random Luke headcanons if you'd like)

• he has special outfits for his training sessions, including many different shoes

• depending on what or where it is he's practicing, he chooses them carefully

• inside he's wearing soft slippers and soft slippers only, boots are a no go

• it's very much established that Luke is wonderfully emphathetic and always ready to stand by your side, may it be during your period or when you're struggling mentally

• he's still wonderfully emphathetic and caring when you're sick but like, only from very far away

• he'll refuse to come near you if you so much as mention you're not feeling well

• if you have to sneeze or cough even a little bit he's immediately asking whether you've fallen ill or are about to

• just say you feel like you're getting a cold and he's on retreat immediately

• he can't get sick as well!

• he's working with children!!!

• at least one of them is always sick anyways, he can't be contagious under any circumstances!

• he'd feel so bad if he were to be responsible for even more of them suffering

• he feels horrible for not being there for you too though

• so he still does his best

• he prepares warm meals and tea every day and let's R2 deliver them

• he always checks in on you when you're asleep

• he changes your bed sheets while you take a shower or a bath

• he'd totally make a doctor's appointment for you if you're too scared to make the phone call yourself

• he makes sure you're taking your medications

• he pats your back and strokes your hair using the Force

• Luke would absolutely hate quarantine

• at first he'd still be pretty optimistic, thinking it won't be that bad, maybe even fun?

• he'll just meditate a lot, right?

• after all he has mastered his temper now, his patience renowned among his friends and students

• this mindset works at the beginning and for a while he's happy to sleep in for as long as he wants to

• however he forgets about the concept of time quickly enough and soon has no idea what day it is

• when was the last time he had breakfast?

• since he's a very outdoorsy person, always on the move, always doing something, it wouldn't take long until he's getting kinda antsy too

• and while he does enjoy the calm and quiet, he's mostly used to being the center of bustling activities

• soon he takes desperate measures to pass the time, even trying out things he before swore to not be interested in in the slightest

• I see him taking lots and lots of Buzzfeed quizzes

• he texts you about every single result

• one of his first ones was about what kind of animal he'd be and he absolutely hated the outcome

• he eventually ended up making his own quiz because of it

• he likes watching you play video games more than playing them himself

• it's very relaxing to him, especially after a long day at work

• plus he gets to hold you extra close under the pretense of being very interested to see what's going on on screen

• he dozes off pretty quickly though

• while he's happy to let you play whatever you want, I think he has his favorites as well

• Animal Crossing being at the very front

• he loves when you show him your town or island, how you decorated your house and which villagers you're best friends with

• he too would have the newest game, simply because you were missing a few items and he was determined to get them for you

• it would totally escalate during quarantine though, and suddenly he'd have a fully decorated five star island

• (Luke Skywalker plays Animal Crossing with a passion and I'm ready to fight anyone about it)

• for some reason he gets really competitive during Mario Kart and Just Dance

• he unapologetically wins at every single Wii Sports mini game and no matter what you do and how much you practice, he's always better and not in the least bit sorry about it

• he is a Macher™ (please let there be some German fans who know what I'm talking about)

[keischreiber]

🙈 don't feel pressured but from the prompt list "how do they achieve a fully-assembled piece of IKEA furniture?" Sounds very interesting 🙈🙈 with almost any character I think 🙈

AAAAAH THIS IS SO LONG OVER DUE. I hope you enjoy~

IKEA day is a dangerous day.

It wasn't even the shopping that was problematic, but the monumental pain that came after, once her very first purchase from IKEA got delivered.

"Minor assembly needed my ass."

When she saw that everything came in a box, a box that when she opened was filled with all sorts of parts and a manual, the young collegiate knew where the rest of her afternoon was going to be allotted to. Seriously, how dare IKEA make her assemble her own furniture after having gone through all of the trouble earning the money to pay for it. Was it not enough that she's working part-time to afford the little necessities in life as she goes through Uni? Was it not enough that she spent hours in their store walking amidst a sea of diversity just to finally meet the sofa bed of her dreams which realistically meant the sofa bed within her budget?

Apparently, not so. Not when she had to furrow her brows over a manual that looked no more than scribbles and doodles to her. Or how she was trying to make sense of the other attachables that were needed in order to make sure the damn thing worked properly.

The audacity.

She simply couldn't get a break. And this was JUST the sofa bed. God forbid what she'd have gone through had she gone and purchased a cabinet or a table instead.

Now, on most occasions, she would just do things herself because Kristina didn't want to bother anyone with her personal belongings. But she just… couldn't be bothered to read a manual. It was a her problem, yes, but one that she was slowly trying to fix; however, not today. So, she called for her partner in crime…

"God, you're such a fucking asshole, I hate you."

…Zeke Yeager WHO she didn't think would come armed with the blonde star athlete of their football team, Reiner Braun.

"But do you really?" Zeke looked as amused as ever as his gaze went from Reiner who was busy with the manual, and Kristina who had walked up to him for complaints. Then again, seeing her flustered annoyance gave Zeke the feeling that she wasn't as angry as she let on. After all, he was doing her a favor. She asked for help, he was there to deliver. "That's the most hostile thank you that I've received from you, Krissy. This is worse than the time I brought you to the Warrior's victory party."

And just for that comment, he won himself a smack to the arm before the girl finally left him– fuming– to once again join Marley U's jock in making sense of her little IKEA conundrum.

"I'm sorry that he roped you into doing this." Kristina was particularly apologetic to Reiner as she continued to fit each piece of her sofa bed with its designated covers. Reiner on the other hand simply waved it off. It wasn't every day that he came over to do this sort of work, and every once in a while, it wasn't too bad. Everyone thought that all he was was a giant meathead that thought about nothing other than sports, and for the most parts, they weren't wrong. However, he wasn't opposed to doing a little bit of charity work or manual labor when he had the free time.

Besides, it's not as if he could really turn down their manager's invitation… let alone, his requests. When he heard about Zeke needing some help fixing up some furniture, it seemed like an easy enough job since he had some experience. The young football star had a modest dorm room when he didn't spend his days at his mother's house; and his dorm room had furniture that he himself assembled… also from IKEA. He could call himself a pro at this by now… after all the trial and error he'd had figuring it out himself.

What he didn't expect was for Zeke to bring him to a girl's place. And if he remembered correctly, it's the same one who he arrived with at the team's victory bash a few weeks ago.

"You new 'round these parts? Don't think I've seen you around that much before." Reiner asked, using the free Allen key to begin assembling some of the pieces that had been fitted with the covers.

"Kind of. To the neighborhood at least." She explained, dragging one of the parts to the 'assembly line'.

It's been a week since she moved from her father's house to this nice little complex. Definitely closer to school, and thankful far enough from the toxicity that came with living with her judgmental old man. She couldn't stand having to hear another reason why she's making a mistake by taking up teaching courses, rather than the path of medicine which he had planned out from the start.

"That so? You enjoying yourself so far— it's Krista- no, sorry, Kristina, right?" He fumbled, slightly embarrassed for mistaking her name for someone else's. A crush who happened to share the first five letters of the name.

"Y-yeah, that's me. And really, you don't need to apologize." She responded. "It's an easy mistake to make."

"Strange, most would expect an apology. Always thought people hated it when others got their names wrong— pass me that bolt, would you?"

And so Kristina did, passing him one of the bolts that would eventually keep the sofa bed together.

"Well, we've only met once. It'd be pretty unfair to assume you would remember. I keep my standards low."

At that sentiment, Reiner found himself lofting a brow, his head raised from what he was doing just to look at her. Did he just get dissed? "You got quite the mouth right there huh, you sayin' I can't remember names?"

"Was I wrong?" Did she hit a nerve? But then he chuckled, returning to the task at hand.

"Nah, I got it wrong the first try, yeah? Won't happen again, I promise." He reassured. For a moment, Kristina had her breath held. She thought it was over, that she wasn't ever going to have a chance to become friends with him all because of this damn mouth of hers. But he seemed more of a sport about it, more than her fears suggested at least.

"Hey, c'mere. I'll teach you how to put this part together. It's pretty easy." He called her over as he aligned the side panel with the storage space that made up one part of the girl's sofa bed. Reiner showed her the bar and screws that were needed to connect them together, and demonstrated screwing one of the screws using the Allen key.

"Pretty easy, right?" He confirmed.

"It is pretty easy, now that you've shown me how." She agreed.

"Pretty sure your boyfriend over there coulda shown you how too." But Reiner knew that Zeke had a bit of laziness in him. If it wasn't at all interesting, he wouldn't be too compelled to lift a finger. Or he'll find a different way to do it… which he guessed is what happened here.

Suddenly however, the blonde felt a sharp smack on his arm, catching him by surprise, followed by a horrified "He's not my boyfriend!" from her part.

"You don't have to be so shy, my dear Krissy. You can tell Reiner here how we've professed our undying lo—" Zeke chimed in, taking a drag of the cigarette that he had lit just a while ago as he watched them both work. Kristina's expression as she snapped her attention towards her best friend's direction almost caused Reiner to laugh, had he not caught himself. He had never seen someone looking so offended over a statement before.

"He sure is trying to sell it." He said, chuckling once again as he hands her the Allen key so that she can try it for herself.

"Please, don't take him seriously. He likes to embarrass me, as a hobby." Kristina explained, focusing on doing what she had been taught. There was a small glimmer in her eyes when the screw locked in place; and when Reiner himself inspected the rest that she had done, he raised his hand for a high-five that she had so rightfully earned.

Small talk persisted between the three of them as the work continued. Reiner had called out Kristina's dislike for manuals and watched her try to reason it out. Zeke often interjected to taunt the girl; finding some strange amusement in her being quite defensive.

It was, all in all, a leisurely day; the work prolonged due to the chit-chats and bickering. A peaceful time for three college kids, and an eventful day for one.

When they had finished with the assembly of the sofa bed, they bid their farewells. Kristina had offered to make them dinner as a form of repayment, but both Zeke and Reiner decided to take a raincheck for today. Zeke simply had something else to do for the night, and Reiner, well, he didn't want to be a bother even if the host had insisted.

"Next time." She remembered him say, with an apology to match. The girl, not wanting to press on for too much, compromised with that. It wasn't a bad deal at all. It would at least give her an excuse to meet Reiner again.

As she stared at her phone, she fondly looked at the new number that had been saved along with a message,

⌊ Reiner Braun ⌉

Hey, got practice in the afternoon tomorrow. Wanna drop by? Not sure if football's your thing, but I can introduce you to the team. Haha! Promise not to get your name wrong this time 'round.

it read.

Kristina never would have thought that this name would become part of her contacts. Maybe being friends with Zeke did have some benefits. Maybe him knowing that she liked the Warrior's 104 was a silver lining.

I'll be there ♪(´▽｀)

… and sent.

IKEA day was a dangerous day, because who would have thought that a little trouble was all it took for her heart to skip a few beats all throughout the day?

[sillylittlejesterman]

Making a Cake

I FORGOT TO POST THIS FOR SIRIUS' BIRTHDAY BUT HERE IT IS (its also on ao3) Just a little silly story that was written very quickly for my favorite wet dog homosexual man's birthday. I love him.

“Uh Remus? I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that,” Peter said, eyeing the gloopy, sludge-like thing in the baking dish. 

“Is–... Is it moving?” James asked. The three boys standing over the tray with what was supposed to be Sirius’ birthday cake in the center. They all startled away when a bubble in the dish popped, making a loud noise. Remus plopped the tray down on the stove top and took his red and white oven mitts off, slapping them on the table while frowning. 

“This makes no sense. We did everything, didn’t we?” He pushed a bunch of empty pans and dirty rags around until he found the badly scribbled out recipe on a now batter-stained piece of parchment. 

“You know, it would probably help if we could actually read the recipe,” James pointed out, snatching the parchment out of Remus’ hands and dangling it in front of his face. Remus frowned in response. “This whole thing is in French. Can’t you find it in English or something?” James continued. 

“Maybe we should just ask Regulus,” Peter mumbled, not really planning for anyone to hear him. He knew Sirius and Regulus’ relationship was complicated to say the least, but he was the only other person that Peter knew who spoke French. 

“No! No it’s fine, it’s not that hard to understand!” 

“Remus you keep saying that but look at the cake– I don’t even know if we can even call it a cake anymore,” James’ voice trailed off as he covered his mouth with his hand, standing to stare at the last six attempts at the cake - each looked worse than the last. 

“French is a romance language with Latin roots and I know latin.” Remus insisted. 

“Latin and French are not the same language, Remus!” 

“They have the same roots!” 

“Guys, the cake is moving,” Peter interrupted, pointing to where the cake had started to form a rather large bubble. The three boys leaned in close to examine it, and like it had before, the cake popped, startling the three and spraying runny batter all over their faces. 

Remus, whose face was contorted by disgust and cake batter, stood shocked, staring at the cake tin before wiping his eyes and flung the batter to the ground with a frustrated groan. 

“Okay, I think it’s time to find a different cake,” James said, wiping his hands on one of the many dirty towels in the kitchen.

“No, his birthday is tomorrow! This is the only recipe we have and we can’t give him a fucking cookie for his birthday” 

“But Moony we’ve been at this for hours! I’m hungry and tired,” Peter whined. 

Remus took a breath and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.“Fine! Fine, I’ll just do it myself,” He grumbled, growing increasingly frustrated with this recipe. “Why does Sirius have to have such posh taste all the time?” Remus grumbled under his breath, snatching the recipe from James’ hands and reading it over again, muttering to himself. 

James and Peter shared a look before sighing, knowing they weren’t exactly excused from the kitchen just yet. Remus would slave over this cake for days if it meant making Sirius’ birthday a happy one, so James and Peter had to stay too. 

—

Frost covered the window of the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory. Almost every year the first snow fell on Sirius' birthday, and Remus knew this because every year he was up. He tucked himself away in the reading nook in the window, the light from his wand illuminating the page he was reading. But when a small beeping noise was heard from his bed he sprang up and quickly turned it off before digging to find the parchment wrapped box he had been hiding for months. 

“Psst, hey,” Remus whispered as he made his way over to Sirius’ bed, careful to avoid the floorboard that creaked so loud it woke Peter up. He tiptoed and drew back the curtain to his bed, snickering at the sight he found. 

Sirius was splayed out and curled in his sheets, wearing an oversized and threadbare Beatles shirt that Remus had given him for his twelfth birthday. It was too big on him then, and still hung just below his red and gold boxers. A copy of the Rolling Stone with Bowie on the cover was open over his face, and the slight sound of his snores  made Remus chuckle, his lips curling into a fond smile.

“Hey, wake up, idiot.” He said, smacking Sirius’ foot. Sirius made a sound and stirred, causing the magazine to roll off of his face and onto the floor with a thump.

“Fuck, I’m awake,” He grumbled, sitting up on his elbows and smiling when he noticed Remus. “You never make it to midnight” Remus teased, crawling onto the mattress and letting the curtains fall closed as he settled across from Sirius. “Oh shut up,” he groaned again, rubbing his eyes as he reached onto the floor to grab the magazine,placing it on the bedside table. 

Remus fidgeted with a small package in his hands as he smiled at the other boy, admiring the way his grey-blue eyes shone in the dim yellow light of the lamp that hung from the canopy above the bed. Sirius smiled back, pushing his hair out of his face while sitting up properly. He scooted slightly closer to Remus.

“Happy birthday,” Remus smiled, finally breaking the comfortable silence the two of them sat in. 

He placed the package on the bed, sliding it towards Sirius.

Sirius’ brows knit together in confusion as he slid his gaze between the gift and the boy opposite him.

“This is different,” Sirius said, starting to unwrap the brown parchment that Remus had shabbily used to conceal the box. 

“Well yeah, cause– this year is different.” 

It was a tradition they’d started their very first year at Hogwarts. Or really, Remus started it. He’d stayed up, wanting to be the first person to wish Sirius a “happy birthday” - he’d had too much energy, and the second the clock turned past twelve, Remus pounced on his friend. Sirius was of course startled at first, but the second he spotted Remus, looking like an easily excited puppy, he couldn’t be mad. Remus gave him a David Bowie vinyl that year along with the giant Beatles shirt and Sirius still had them, still considered them the best gifts he’d ever received. Remus had a weird thing with gifts. He was usually dreadful at gift-giving, but when it came to Sirius he somehow nailed it every time.

“Why, cause I snogged you on Halloween?” Sirius smirked, always playing a joke. It was true, Remus and Sirius had snogged on Halloween. Both of them consumed a little too much fire whiskey that night, leading to a long, painstaking game of spin-the-bottle. Sirius had finally had enough after three rounds, and dragged Remus away to the broom closet. Remus remembered it vividly. The feeling of his heart beating fast in his chest and the taste of cigarettes, whiskey and strawberries on Sirius’ lips– 

“Because you asked me to be your boyfriend on Halloween.” 

That was true as well. After hiding in the broom closet for what felt like hours, Sirius finally dragged Remus upstairs where the kissing continued in a more horizontal position. Alone with only the muffled sound of drunk teenagers downstairs, it became much more intimate as they laid together on the bed, curtains drawn and lips pressed together. Their kissing was less hungry, less filled with need. Remus had pulled away for just a moment when Sirius said it. 

“Remus, I want to be with you,” He’d whispered, his hand tangling in Remus’ hair, gently playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. His voice was quiet, like he was whispering a secret and all Remus thought to do was kiss him in response. 

Sirius turned red, his pale complexion never failing to betray when he felt embarrassed or flustered. Remus found it quite cute.

“Okay, yeah but–” 

“Stop arguing and just open your present, okay?”

Remus cut Sirius off and pushed the half-opened package against his chest, scooting closer to Sirius to get a better look, despite the lack of space on the bed.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at him and laughed. 

“Okay, okay, pushy” He teased, carefully taking the package and unwrapping the brown parchment that was crumpled around it. Inside was a simple black velvet box only about the size of his palm, and Sirius looked back up at Remus. 

“What is this?” He said, holding back a smile. 

“Just open it,” Remus urged, his cheeks turning red. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, a ball of excitement and nerves sat in his throat as he waited for Sirius to open the box. 

Inside the little velvet box was a silver plated ring, with shimmering moonstone embedded in the center, engraved crescent moons sitting curled around either side of the stone. Remus saw it in a shop back home and it reminded him too much of Sirius not to buy it. 

Sirius stared at the ring for a long while, which didn’t at all help Remus’ nerves. 

“It’s not a proposal ring or anything. Sorry if it looks like that,” Remus finally blurted out

He gently placed the box on his covers, smiling at Remus, his heart fluttering excitedly in his chest.

 “I love it,” He whispered, reaching for Remus’ hands, pulling him close - “I love it,” He said again, gently pressing their lips together. Remus melted into the kiss, sighing softly, relieved that Sirius liked his gift. 

—

“Surprise!” The sound of party poppers was loud and confetti sprayed everywhere as Sirius entered the common room. It was all lavishly decorated, or as lavishly as a group of teens could get it.

The common room was full of Gryffindors, though most noticeably James and Peter who stood in the middle of the room, holding a large cake. Or at least it looked like it was supposed to be a cake. The layers were wobbly and the icing was everywhere and it looked as though half the candles on top of it were trying to run away down its side. For whatever reason, James and Peter had thought it would be a phenomenal idea to adorn the cake with sparklers as well. 

Sirius found himself silently thankful for Lily standing close by, seemingly ready with a spell to take care of things, in case it caught fire.

With a struggle, James and Peter put down the cake, fetching a slice for Sirius before placing two sparklers and a candle in it. Looking at the slice, Sirius wasn’t even sure the cake was edible. Still, he took the slice. 

“Oi, what’s that?” James asked, motioning to the small silver ring on Sirius’ finger. James had spotted it when the ring caught the light from the sparklers, causing the stone to shimmer, showing off the elegant moon designed carved into it in the process. 

Sirius glanced at the ring with fondness, his eyes briefly meeting Remus’, before he turned his attention back to James. “Eh, just a little something. Back to the important stuff, hm? If this cake kills me I need to know who to hold responsible,” he joked. Remus smiled. There was nothing that made him happier than seeing Sirius so happy, surrounded by the people he loved.

[yanderu-deredere]

a/n: here's one of the new boys! i figure i should crank these new boys out before i include them in a few more requests! also omg thank you so so much! idk if it was my pathetic begging but i got so so many requests and ill definitely crank those out too!

warning: gender neutral reader, stalking. cat fishing, phone sex, non-consensual filming

soren 'soleil' ravi kumar ★ profile

there's not a lot of places you could meet soren becos he's such a dedicated musician and becos to become his new obession you have to be related to his current one

which brings us to the fact that you have to know him thru his band

of course a lot of these posts are just suggestions of how the yans can meet their darlings but i really truly think that soren would do well with meeting his darling at a meet and greet

meet and greets are where the band sits at a long table and the fans line up to greet each member one on one for a few seconds each, long enough to get a few sentences in, maybe give the member a pre approved present, get something signed, etc

the meet and greets are ofc very tiring and, after a while, the faces get very samey

however, when he sees you, he immediately thinks wow, very cute

its kind of a not-very-well-hidden-secret that soren sometimes sleeps with some of the groupies

it's well hidden enough that only the really really dedicated fans know about it but its like not well hidden enough that the paparazzi sometimes catch him going out with some of them

he's earned kind of a playboy label but like nobody's really put two and two together that they're all just dedicated acatalepsy fans

anyway, when he sees you, he thinks might fuck around and see if he can talk you into sleeping with him loool

but then you open your mouth and then he thinks might fuck around and shee if he can talk you into wearing a ring around that finger, if you know what i mean

"Hi! Sorry, ohmygosh, I'm so happy to see you!" You rush out, giggling in that same drunken way a lot of fans do when they sit down in front of them for the meet and greet.

Soren laughs boyishly, nodding as he takes your album and signs his name "Yeah, I get that a lot. Who should I sign this to?"

You tell him your name and, for some reason, he pairs it with his last name in his head. Sadly, he can't write it down but he does add a cutie in front of it when he scribbles it onto the front of your copy.

"Uhm, I know we only have a few seconds but I just wanted to say that I loved your first album. A lot of fans don't appreciate it to much and, hot take, don't tell the other Asteropos but I feel like the other albums just don't have the same spark as the first two do."

After your little spiel, you sit there, fiddling with your fingers so cutely and all Soren could do was stare at you. Instead of shutting up, you continued, too nervous to do anything else.

"I mean, the meaning to the lyrics were just so profound in the first two albums and the thematic tie ins were so satisfying but I feel like the newer albums, you're just making coincidences to make coincidences, and they're not really to do anything and-- I don't know. I just-- miss the old Soleil, I guess."

Then, as if sick of how much you were embarrassing yourself, you squeaked out a small apology, touched his hand (which was absolutely electrifying, grabbed your album and then moved on to the next member.

Soren had never been so in love in his entire life.

its very much the case of 'nobody's ever punched me before in my entire life and now im in love with you' trope but it's like nobody's ever been so like nice but critical of him?

like it's the price of being popular i guess? but everyone either really loves him so he can do no wrong or really hates him so everything he does is wrong

but you are such a sweet and nice middle that it feels so nice and pleasant! like constructive critisism?? and you're not being paid to give it to him? why? you care about him? oh myog od?

its because you love him. the two of you are meant to be!!

he already has your information from where you bought the tickets! they had to take your credit card information (which included your billing address) and your phone number

he'll try to use the band as much as he can to get as close to you as possible!

maybe your ticket to the concert was used in a raffle and you won! now you get to spend a whole day with him doing whatever the two of you want!

he'll show you around the studio, the two of you can talk about whatever the two of you want, you can do whatever

he'll flirt with you as much as possible lmaooo but what he wants from you is more than what he's ever wanted from any of the fan fuck buddies he's ever had before

The office chair the two of you sat on creaked under your shared weight and the sound snapped you a little bit out of your arousal. You were, after all, in the room he used to write songs and brainstorm ideas.

It felt a little blasphemous to fuck there.

"Are you sure this is okay?" You stuttered out, looking nervous and unsure, even as your hips ground down into his.

He just laughed, bright and sweet as his large palms pressed into your skin, one of hands pushing into your shirt, trying to undress you, while his other hand cupped your thigh, pulling your legs apart.

"Darling, if I don't have you right now, I think I'll go crazy." He muttered against your ear, that melodic voice you were so used to hearing singing such innocent songs now uttering much dirtier words.

It made a shiver go down your spine.

You quickly nodded, agreeing, your fingers tangling into his locks when his lips latched onto your neck, teeth marking their way down to your clavicles.

he wants you to belong to him wholly and completely so you can take care of him and give him compliments and constructive criticism and so you can inspire him!

neway if you think he's just a one night stand, he'll show you a one night stand!

lol but seriously though, he won't let you get away after one night. you're his eternally

he might fuck around and make a fake fan account and get to know you that way too becos of course he would

he kind of has all the money in the world so he doesn't care what he has to do to make you his, he'll do it

might even fuck around and pay someone to put cameras where you live cus like he cant go around skulking in your neighborhood but if he puts cameras there, he won't have to!

but yeah, definitely a pain in the ass lmao and like he's socially adept enough that he knows how to hide his obsessive tendencies well so that you don't really see them

to you, it'll feel like you met the popstar of your dreams and he fell in love with you after spending a day with you (which you won through a raffle you were entered into?) and now the two of you are dating? weird

Soren held his phone in between his ear and his shoulder, his hands unbuttoning his uncomfortable jeans "I'm sorry I can't be with you, baby. You know I hate travelling but I have to."

You nodded, pout playing across your face, your knees pulled to your chest and your cheek pressed to your knee. You were sat against the headboard of Soren's expensive California king sized bed, feeling lonely and small. All he could hear was your sigh.

He could see everything though.

After all, he had a camera pointed right at you and it was streaming right into his laptop camera. He really was telling the truth when he said he wanted nothing else than to be with you and, if you said the magic words, he'd quit and be with you all the time.

However, there he was, in Australia. And there you were, all by your lonesome.

"Why don't you do something for me, hmmm, baby?" Soren palmed himself, not quite fishing his cock out of his underwear quite yet "Something to help you feel less lonely?"

When you hummed in agreement, he continued "Why don't you go lay down on my bed and take off all of your clothes and maybe play with yourself while we talk on the phone?"

He definitely heard your breath hitch.

"I'll talk you through it." He reassured you, his dick already chubbing at the thought of watching you hanging onto his every word, following his every command "And I want to listen to you cum over and over."

"Cus you're mine right, baby? You're mine, even if I'm millions of miles away, right?"

[nomeniko]

mew mew 12 16 19 for the artist ask game meowing at you meew

VINNNNNNN HELLOOOO THANK UU

12. describe your process while drawing

i think this was the one question i rly wanted to ans out of the list, only bc ive been told multiple times that my process is like that of a maniac LMAOO

p much just this: vague scribble, lines, and color (which rarely happens atp, but if it DOES happen then it mostly stays as flats aka fill tooling my way thru). as close to freehand as i can possibly get

if the drawing im doing is more complicated then the first stage scribble just becomes more convoluted, but the process is the exact same

as a consequence i take a shitton of time while drawing (usually an hr on a simple colorless illus and ONLY on good days. otherwise ive gone past 2-3 hrs on most of the simpler drawings i do)

if drawing process meant everything beyond just the illustration then warmups r p much a given b4 i start any piece!!! my go tos r always cubes or freehand figures (1 min and a half each. the goal is to get used to the flow of it fo the day :3 otherwise my lines end up looking shit)

ive also been told that i draw like a warrior training. idk. i honestly kind of see it LMAOOO its abt forcing my way thru getting the lines i want

16. how do you motivate yourself to draw?

i honestly dont know!!! im trying to think of an ans, but im coming up blank

i dont even try motivating myself, it just hits when it wants to hit. once in a while i get an idea that i REALLY want to draw, so i do it as fast as possible b4 i lose interest; otherwise i can barely draw, and at those times i just let myself rest

the one thing i do have to thank is whatever im interested in at that moment in time. rn milgram took over my life, so everything i draw is just that. tbh b4 i got into milgram, i was demotivated w drawing for multiple years straight, so ive been burning out the time i lost not drawing in the past few months

ig the one thing i cld say helps w motivation is the idea of doing everything now. if i get an idea, i do it immediately, and thats usually enough of a motivator for me. holding off an idea and not drawing it p much guarantees that i lose interest. draw whatever u want whenever u want

19. where do you find inspiration?

other art i like (mostly online artists)!! i have a twt priv that i use solely to rb and bookmark pieces i like frm artists on there. i also have a camera roll album reserved just for inspo, and ig i rb things on this acc for other artists’ art as well

i like looking at what other artists do and applying it to my own drawings. sometimes its general artstyle, other times its the specific way an artist wld draw smth like hands or hair. id admit that ive taken inspo frm how artists compose their work as well lol

im not sure if my art is what ppl wld call inconsistent, but my main goal is to keep that inconsistency as much as possible; it helps w experimentation n lessens the pressure of doing art the same way all the time. its more fun that way imho :3

[justrambles]

(Beauty and the beast au steddie)

*cw: mention of dead animal (but it's not a lot and pretty similar to what we see in canon st)*

No.4 — Honeycomb

Turns out all the food are definitely inedible. Eddie is quite surprised, really. He's never seen anything so shriveled. There's not even mold on the remaining traces of food; they probably dehydrated or died of old age. Seeing the evidence of years passed by reminds Eddie that the kids should have grown up and got out of here, instead of being stuck here with dried up tomatoes. He wonders what really happened.

Said kids, right now, are debating on what the decay of food means for them. Dustin seems excited by the discovery, making up theories on the differences of food and them. Now, Eddie is just sad and hungry, as he tries to remember what's in the van. He wonders if the kids have an umbrella—he doesn't want to get soaked in the rain again for making the trip to the van.

"Guys, what's going on?" A voice asks from nearby.

Eddie has to consciously tilt his head down to see who's speaking. It's a hedgehog, and she's trotting into the kitchen.

The kids all launch into explanations.

"Nancy, did you know not everything's stuck in time? We just found out—"

"Nancy, we don't have any food! They're all gone!"

"And Eddie doesn't have anything to eat!"

At this moment, Eddie chimes in, "And Eddie probably will be find to find something from the van, no worries there."

Nancy the hedgehog turns to Eddie. "You sure? You know, you might have to stay here for a bit more, the storm's not going away." Eddie gives her a thumbs up. "Well, if there's nothing to eat in the van, I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out."

***

"Honeycomb."

"Yup."

"You carry Honeycomb with you in your van."

"Yes, indeed."

"Why?"

After a thorough search through his belongings, Eddie found his saviour, the cereal. While he was at it, he also brought in some of his stuff, too. So now, he's munching on his Honeycomb while the kids poke through his stuff. And Nancy is staring down at Eddie—he doesn't know how that's even physically possible— disapprovingly. She gives a small sigh.

"I'll talk to Steve. He might know where to find something more... healthy. Or at least sustainable."

Eddie remembers the late night exchange between Dustin and Steve, and how the mysterious Steve didn't seem to like the idea of Eddie staying at the mansion.

"Uh, do you- do you have to? I can eat my Honeycomb you know, I like them. That's why I carry them around. So there's no need to—"

Nancy gives Eddie a weird look.

"By the look of it, I don't think the cereal's going to last long enough, Eddie. If you're worried about bothering Steve, I'm sure it'll be fine. He's nice."

It does not help with Eddie's worries. You can be nice and also hate the guy who's lounging freely in your home. But Eddie manages an "Okay."

***

By evening, there's a knock on the door. Eddie gets up from the bed where he was scribbling down ideas (may or may not have been inspired by his recent experiences) and opens the door.

"Please don't be scared."

It's Nancy, and she's perched on—

Eddie's heart nearly jumps out of its cage. She's perched on a big, possibly predatory feline. Maybe panther? Like the movie the Pink Panther? Eddie is freaking out and Nancy's feline companion just stares at Eddie with an unimpressed look.

"I'm not scared," Eddie croaks out.

"What? I didn't even-," Nancy sounds confused, but she realizes that Eddie's eyes are fixed on her friend. "Oh. No, that's not what I meant. I was going to say that Steve got you something to eat, but it won't be what you are used to eating... So please don't be scared."

The feline (maybe this is Steve?) breaks their staring contest and focuses on Nancy, so Eddie does the same.

"If you keep saying that I might actually be scared."

***

The 'food' does make him actually scared.

It's a rabbit. A dead one. Eddie wants to panic, but Nancy's looking at him with nervous eyes so he just lets out a thanks.

They're in the kitchen now, and the panther is now gone, after carrying the scrap of tarp that had the rabbit inside to the kitchen. Eddie heaves out a sigh.

He's scared, he's hungry, he'll be able to cook ...this.

[kim-poce]

2. Witches Are Meant to Burn: Magic

Before the chapter just a little notice. "Witches Are Meant to Burn" and "No God in Town" will be released weekly both here and on my Patreon (which I'll announce here as soon as the page is reviewed).

Previous | Next

=-=

I know! I know how words work, okay? I know that sayings rely on context, and old sayings have old contexts that we might not know about anymore. Their meanings can change, they can be cut in half,  words can get mis-said and change over time.

Did you know, for example, that the original saying of “the horse arrived” had a second part? “and it brought someone along.” This means the opposite of the way we use it today! Funny right? I could go on about how this happened but that's not the point.

Anyway, I also thought about the possibility that “witches” is a misspelling, maybe the unison of some words. That's the reason I studied history and etymology so hard! I looked through every word that resembled witches. ALL OF THEM. Even 'uytch', you know, the dish from a country far away that doesn't speak our language and much less has our saying.

In no moment I found a word (or several of them) that fits the sentence and is old enough to match the age of this saying. I might be wrong though. Am I a complete genius? Yes. Do I know everything? No.

There is another thing about this saying; it is old. I can't track back the exact date but this is so old, old enough that our language has changed a lot since its creation. How do I know that? Well, I wasn't accurate when I said there is nothing about witches registered, because there is. It's inside a cave (which I have visited. Great trip. My students fought each other over who would come along. Great fight).

This cave is important, it was locked up for CENTURIES, and the language used there is so old that some sentences are almost unrecognizable. It was located years back and has been the source of new studies and theories in diverse fields. Point is, the walls are completely scribbled over, it seems to have started in an organized way but I could see how it soon became messy.

The scribbles were not made with some paint or ink, nor carved with stone or sharp tools. It was burnt, well, it was carved using a heated tool. Every letter (and it was a cursive alphabet!) was individually carved like this, as in, a small hot tool was pressed on the wall and twisted once (only once) to make a small hole, the process was repeated over and over to make the words. I don't want to lose track of the point, but I must say each word was at least ten centimeters tall and half a centimeter deep in the walls, and the tool was at most a millimeter in diameter. I need you to understand that centuries ago these people heated this small little needle-like thing and pressed on the wall over and over and over, thousand and thousand of times to write these words down. The spot where the letters were could be messy, but each letter was very carefully made. So you can see why the scholars go crazy about this place.

There are many mysteries about this site, many of them fall into my field but you don't want me rambling about it. Back to the point, the “witches are meant to burn” saying was written several times (I touched them back then, they were hot enough to cause pain), and along with them there were prayers and other sentences meaning mostly two things: fate and sorrow (so the witch saying fits well in there even when they are centuries of context and history apart from each other.) I need to emphasize that the saying was written in the same way we use it today, even with the dates so far apart, maybe back then they still had the context though.

If I could meet whoever wrote that on these walls and ask what a witch is they most likely would look at me as if I’m an idiot, after all, who wouldn’t know such common sense? (or at least I believe it was common sense since the continent being so large didn’t stop the saying from being said all over it). Ah, the riches I would pay to walk around the continent so far back and watch with my own two eyes what I can only speculate about!

Witches, whatever they were, were most likely really well known, maybe not important, maybe not essential. But known. Now, is it just me or this word, these witches, are so old and meaningful and should have been more talked about? I know, there are many sentences at that site (it's a really important site) but out of all of them, this is the least researched one! And it’s the only one used until today!

“Why?” I asked a colleague one day. “I get people not being obsessed about it as I am, but why is no one looking for it at all? All of the other stuff in that cave is being thoughtfully studied by so many academics but why is this one just ignored?”

“I can't speak for others,” she said, pausing to think. “But it just doesn't… draw me, it's as if it's a closed case? It kind of feels like nothing interesting will come from it. I am not talking down your work! You are amazing and dedicated and even if I'm not interested in witches or whatever I always read your papers because you are just great at it, but this word is like… boring, I just… can't explain it another way.”

Other academics (and common people) had the same opinion as if this single subject killed the insatiable curiosity of humanity. Even my own students don’t seem interested in it, only the older ones, it looks like if I force them to hear about it almost every day for years they come to either hate the subject or be curious about it. Anyway, this seemingly instinctive disinterest in this word is odd, in an irrational way.

I don't allow myself to act irrationally in front of others, being obsessed is one thing and being irrational is another. It would compromise my reputation as a scholar, it would make my research look childish and bullshit. I can't have that. So I don't tell them about the hot words, I don't show them my notebooks or the hidden, smaller secret library about magic.

I have mixed feelings about magic. On one hand, I'm an academic and know very well how people wrongly believed in magic centuries back and how everything was proved to be just myths. On the other hand, this word is hot against my skin and my skin only, I'm drawn to it so strongly while everyone seems to want to forget about it. I don't have a rational way to explain it so I allow myself to be irrational. As long as it doesn't interfere with my studies, of course.

Magic isn’t my field. Do you wonder why someone who can feel what I can and feels the need to uncover the origin of this singular word has not tried to specialize in magic? Well, magic does not exist, there is no field just for that. I study history and magic history with it though so let me explain the basics.

Magic has two main divisions: ‘hands of fate’ and ‘hands of god’

Hands of fate weren’t (as people seem to think) just a huge storm over a sinner’s farm or a carriage accident by a runaway bandit. It was everything. It could be the death of an innocent child or the sheer luck of an assassin. It had no regard for justice or fairness, much less cared about humans' morals. It was a leaf falling from the tree, a mother choosing her child’s name, everything, and every choice.

I can make the correlation between the belief in magic that our society used to have and the way our society still so intrinsically believes in fate today, sometimes it’s as if the name just changes. If I say “magic controls our life” I’ll be called crazy but “fate controls our life”? That’s just a common belief. That’s one of the reasons “witches are meant to burn” is used so often, because what happened was meant to happen the same way witches are meant to burn.

Hands of god are what people truly think of when the word magic comes up, the ability to control the present and the future, if hands of fate set everything in stone, hands of god break the rocks and write a new, ever-changing, history. This is where recipes of foods meant to make one live forever, chantings to attract luck, and everything that humans can actively make is. Contrary to the passive point of view of hands of fate.

I’m sure I don’t need to say, since you must know how society works, but such beliefs weren’t quite liked back in the day. It was said that breaking a line of fate created disaster. So you shouldn’t, for example, use the hands of god to save your dying child, because if you do so some village far away may suffer from hunger. Doctors were hunted down, medicine was criminalized, to fight for your future was to fight against other people’s future and every single act of kindness could be read as selfishness attack and punished as such.

Witches are meant to burn, whether they want it or not.

In the current days, the belief in ‘fate’ (similar to hands of fate) is still strong, but no one believes in ‘magic’ (hands of god and the disaster it brings) anymore. It’s like a godless dead religion, a myth, but fate is just… the way people go on about their life. It’s a curious thing, actually, there was never a god widely worshiped in this land. People here believe something is there and this something decides their lives, but there was no need to worship this deaf being, even the hands of god fight against this mysterious “fate” instead of begging for mercy from it. It is an acceptance of god, if anything. Theology is not my field either but it does draw my attention from time to time.

Well, that’s enough crash course on magic, I’ll just finish it with an academic joke brought upon us by the coincidences of life. As I said, the hands of fate carve the destiny in stone and the hands of god break the rocks. That cave — as highly agreed upon— meant to represent the ‘hands of fates’ so isn’t it such a funny thing that it was brought to light by erosion? If magic was real, the ones who practiced it would be proud of themselves.

=-=

@kathea, @extemporary-username, @wolfeyedwitch

[carcharadroid]

Recovering from having been at one point “Tumblr famous” is weird.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t properly “Tumblr famous”. I wasn’t someone with generic enough appeal to garner enough followers for that. Didn’t really want to be either, I wasn’t trying to be. But I was undoubtedly famous in a niche. That niche being Wreck-it Ralph RP, of all things, back when the movie had only just come out and Tumblr was in its askblog/RP peak.

So, you know (which you might if you’ve been following me for long enough), I made a character! Made an askblog that over time became more of an RP blog. I got involved with other talented and popular RPers on the scene. By the time everything was said and over, I was just shy of 1,000 followers on my silly little niche fandom ask/RP blog.

I got fanart! Fanart from whole ass entire strangers. A lot of them weren’t even roleplayers themselves, they just followed along because they were invested in the story that was unfolding around my edgy little murder twink and the increasingly awful situations and people he surrounded himself with.

But, time wore on, and the fandom faded. Of course. But it was damn close to...7? 8 years? before the RP stopped. The fandom was dead but that just meant crossover was embraced and the fun kept on rolling for a good long time. But everything comes to an end, and between Tumblr shitting the bed by banning NSFW (which gutted pretty much every RP community, not overnight but sure close to it) and the natural inevitability of interests diverging, it basically ended and everyone moved on.

But having that kind of an audience for that long is one hell of a terrifying high, and the crash afterwards is humbling at best and absolutely damaging at worst. Somewhere along the line I realized that I stopped knowing how to create purely for myself and my own enjoyment. I told myself that was what I was doing from the outset (and it was true in the sense that I didn’t axe parts of the story to please people who didn’t like the shit I did), but the sting I felt from getting fewer and fewer and fewer notes as outside interest waned long before inside interest did still hurt.

It made me feel gross and egotistical, which didn’t help. I spent a long time beating myself up about it. Which, you know, also didn’t help.

I dunno. This is all some self-pitying bullshit and reading it back is making me cringe, but fuck it. Maybe this’ll help someone somewhere who’s going through anything even remotely similar. Being shocked with an audience you never expected, getting used to it, and then losing it has a way of making you wonder why the hell you bother to pick up a pen. I think that’s normal. I’ve heard similar stories. Seen them unfold, too. It happens a lot. My story isn’t special in that sense.

I still don’t have my muse back. Not quite. The past while has been a whole lot of me doing my best to retrain myself to create for myself before anyone else. Unrelated, real-life stress is making it slow going, but it’s still going and that’s what’s important. I’ve done small scribbles and sketches, all for myself, and it feels good to do that again. I’m just going to keep on doing that. Sooner or later, I’ll be back where I was before I accidentally caught that lightning in a bottle. And if I ever manage to do it for a second time, hopefully I’ll be more prepared to deal with the inevitable aftermath.