#there's 600 people here i'm not tagging everyone

[ravenadottir]

tier list that nobody asked for

listen, some of these moments from season 2 live in my head rent free, might as well use them to build a tier list. (if i didn't play the season, which is half of s4, seasons 5 and 6, i'm talking about appearance and looks)

these are the tiers and explanations. normally i wouldn't even put it into context but some of these are... cut deep.

day 10 sex with your LI in the hideaway: we waited and it DID NOT disappoint. whether personality, storyline or looks, or a combination of those, it did not leave us hanging dry.

rahim solving the rubik's cube: SO OVERLOOKED by the fandom (or myself in some cases) and i want more. that's it, that's the tier.

bobby singing during brunch: just like the singing, these people can be endearing but sometimes they're just not for you. you either swear by them or doesn't give a flying fuck.

hope crying and collapsin' on noah: CRINGE, i'm honestly ignoring they ever happened but they insist like a fucking tooth ache or something.

lottie biting noah's ear: "i worship and install chaos for the fun of it". all of these are giving new york telling a random girl to choke on flavor of love JUST BECAUSE.

returning!hannah "i'm a bad girl now.": the tease is badass but the attitude is fucking annoying and insecure. fuck these girls i don't care.

lurik leaving with rocco: they deserved WAY MORE than what was given, because what was given was fucking nothing. they didn't have the time or the personality, and i grieve for these men.

mc and li having sex during nope's argument: just like mc and her li, these people could not give a shit about anything, if the villa explodes or not, they're there to vibe and unapologetically be themselves. they might be the ones lighting the match but... still.

gary talking about a chance with hannah: IT'S GIVING RED NOSE, IT'S GIVING COLORFUL HAIR, IT'S GIVING BIG SHOES. actually you're not even the clown, just the horn. SHUT THE FUCK UP.

the shirt that never was: ah, all the suffering and expectation, just to get to the end and... we were so naive, so innocent, so wide-eyed, gullible, so... hopeful. ((the ones we got at the end? yeah, the payoff was not proportional to the waiting, argue with the wall)).

lottie offering to read tea leaves: I - DON'T - CARE, I REFUSE TO SPEND GEMS OR EVEN LOOK AT MY SCREEN WHILE I VIGOROUSLY TAP THROUGH IT.

chelsea talking about the* other villa: i... we could've done without this. it just... didn't need to exist. it's not even entertaining, just plain weird and misplaced, and i lowkey hate it. fuck all these designs to be honest. and as for the twin... fuck the twin.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi <3 I'm here with my request for TGC/actress!reader! No pressure if you don't like this or feel that you have to write it but what about if the shows out and people are going feral over their insane chemistry on screen and in interviews. But it gets worse when a pic of them kissing in costume on set is leaked and people are torn over if its a deleted scene or not (you can decide haha). And TGC and reader being fluffy and hounded to answer? Tysm if you decide to write this, no worries if not :)

Deleted Scene

Tom Glynn-Carney x Actress!Reader

Summary: "No, but truly, I am disappointed they didn't keep it," Tom mutters rather seriously, "I totally agree that our characters kissing is 100% vital character development."

Word Count: >600

Warnings: fem!reader, interview shenanigans, whipped!both of them, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: T_T ive been having a hard time finishing my reqs so i do hope yall like em. i think its best for everyone that i keep em short cos i will lose my mind 🤪 i dont wanna give up on them so i hope you enjoy nonnie <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @sloanexx @antisociablewallflower

Tom is sat on a chair on stage as he looks out to the crowd of eager fans, fans eager for answers about a particular clip that has been blazing about online. He breaks into a laugh when he hears the question regarding his lovely costar. He rubs the sides of face and chuckles into the mic, "next question please."

The crowd laughs.

Tom rubs his face and looks away as he clutches his torso. He releases a sigh then turns back to the guy who asked the question, "see... maybe I could answer that question easier if the person that question is about was here."

The crowd cheers.

Tom laughs, pulling his mic away, "I dunno, it's- it's quite awkward to... talk about your coworkers in certain ways, cause, you know, you don't want to put words in their mouth but--" he takes a moment before responding, "I would like to think," he places a hand on his chest, "that as much I as I enjoyed that kiss-"

Intense screaming.

"-she also did," he grits his teeth as he makes an apprehensive look. He breaks into a chuckle at how loud the shouts become.

Someone in the crowd screams out your ship name with Aegon.

"That being said, I do think it's a shame our kissing scene was cut out of the show-"

MEGA intense screaming.

Tom pulls his mic away and laughs through it. His jaw drops at the scream of a particularly enthusiastic fan. He points to that fan's general direction and chuckles as he says, "you get it."

"Can I just say," the fan who had asked Tom about the kissing scene in the first place speaks up. Tom looks at him as he explains that you were here at this convention two days ago and he got to ask you the same questions and-- "she said that she thought it was an integral piece of character development--"

Tom makes a face and nods.

"--and that because they cut it out, you should definitely make up for it with more kissing scenes."

The crowd loses their mind as Tom throws his head back then laughs into his hands. His face begins to turn a bright shade of red as he grins from ear to ear and his shoulders shake.

The fan holding the mic looks out to the crowd, "you can quote me on that, I'm sure there are clips online as evidence."

Tom wipes his face as he bites his lower lip.

He turns back to Tom, "do you have a response for her and everyone that ships your characters together?"

Tom blows a raspberry as he brings the mic to his mouth. With his cheeks still pink and his fingers ripping at his collar, he responds, "I'd love to kiss her."

Total and complete chaos amongst the people.

"FOR PLOT REASONS!" Tom calls out with an open mouthed smile. He shakes a hand out to the crowd as they bust their lungs with the intensity of their shouts.

He makes a cheeky expression, muttering lowly, "or maybe not--" he pulls his head back as he shakes it.

"No, but truly, I am disappointed they didn't keep it," Tom mutters rather seriously, "I totally agree that our characters kissing is 100% vital character development."

[chut-je-dors]

Now I'm curious cause of your tag. What did Swedish media say about the eurovision thing?

Oof yeah, here's a post detailing it ... here another... Basically they've absolutely flipped over the fact that Finnish public didn't give Loreen points at all (which I find absolutely hilarious) and suddenly started wielding such rhetoric as "the former eastern part of our kingdom" referring to Finland, which is???? like??? do I even need to say how Not Okay that is?

It might seem to some that the Finnish people are reacting to Sweden's (unfair) win and them being sore winners (which, points to them, I didn't know was possible!) with too much drama, but it's all tied to our history together. Finland has traditionally seen itself, and has been seen by other countries (Sweden included) as the sort of "little brother" to the more advanced, better-faring, glorious Sweden. While Sweden to my knowledge doesn't much care about what Finland gets up to (perhaps overlooking/ignoring us and our merits), Finland is always comparing itself to Sweden and trying to live up to it. It's a very common rhetoric and sort of, the atmosphere over here. We know more about Sweden than Sweden knows about us; we're constantly conscious that Sweden exists. Sweden gets talked about in international news; Finland, if mentioned, is often tied to - you guessed it - being Sweden's neighboring country.

We used to be part of Sweden for 600 years. During that time, Swedish was implemented as the language of the culture and the "civilised" whereas the finns living in the eAstErn pArT oF tHe kiNgDoM were seen as "wild" and "uncivilised" and just, generally a lesser people to the Swedish speaking population. We haven't been under Sweden's rule for some 200 years and STILL we can't seem to shake their influence on us. Swedish is still a mandatory language to learn at school (and I have many opinions on that, but that'd be another post). Finnish as a language has been disregarded for its whole existence. Our leading national thinkers and poets in the 19th century, who were the first ones to really push for the Finnish identity instead of us seeing ourselves as part of Sweden or Russia, wrote in Swedish. The first novel in Finnish was published in 1870.

So this is monumental to us, to have the whole word watching Finland and not Sweden. Finland has a lot of merits, especially considering how small a people we are (just 5,5mil). To have a song in our language, in Finnish be this popular, is something we couldn't have imagined. We as a people are humble to the extreme, so much that we might easily scorn anyone who is too successful (not a good thing!), and this is the first time in my life that I'm seeing the whole country rally behind someone like this. When we say "Our Jere" we mean it with our whole hearts. We're so so proud of him, everyone is, and for once Finnish people seem to think in unison that someone deserves all the praise and the success.

SO, to have Sweden in this UNIQUE moment of Finland raising its head and being "we're so amazing", with the rest of Europe going "yes you're so amazing!!", spew rhetoric like this, is just, unbelievable to me. Like I can't just believe that in the 21st century there are people in Sweden who hold up 200 year old thought patterns of our country. It's been shocking 'cos though there's always been rivalry, it's felt more... tongue in cheek. We "love to hate" Sweden over here. It's been "I hate Sweden (affectionate)". But now we find this unbelievably condescending and belittling attitude towards us raising its head, and we wonder, we thought we two were okay?? But have they always held these beliefs???

So there's a sense of betrayal in the air as well. And just, full on disbelief. And maybe we're starting to see that it has been like this all along, but we've decided to turn a blind eye to it? True colours shining through? Perhaps not... but yeah.

Sweden not looking good here!

(here's one more post that says the same that i did but was better at making it SHORT oops)

[elliebean714]

Hide And Seek

Josh Washington x GN!Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Everybody's playing hide and seek, but you're veryy competitive and end up somewhere you shouldn't have

Fluff, Slow Burn(?) This is kinda just game lore, then turns into an actual character x reader at the very end lol

An~ I *think* this is *loosely* inspired by a fic I read on here a few years ago, I cannot remember though, so credits to them ig, I'll tag the og if I somehow find it (if it's even real, I may have dreamt it up or something lmao). I only put this as josh x reader bc he's my fave, but honestly, this can be read without that and you wouldn't miss anything lmao. I just wanted to get this out of my skull. SOO PROUD OF THISS!! HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS OMGGG?? WRITING IS FUN?? WTFF??? Its 5:30 in the morning and i just finished writing until dawn fan fiction. How did it come to this?? good lord this man is beautiful, should be a crime to be this gorgeous. Someone tell me how to tell if my one shot is slow burn or not. I'm not very clever. Sorry the ending is so shit lol, I'm very tired and really want to share this and AAAHHHHHH release me from this tormentttttt

Pre-Game

"Okay, everybody, let's set some ground rules before we start." Chris waves his arms to make sure everyone is paying attention. "First off, obviously, nobody is allowed to go outside, okay? Let's keep it fair people. Next, since there's twelve of us and the lodge is so big, we're gonna have two seekers. Thats Josh and Beth, they'll have to wait in here for two minutes while we all hide." The pair wave "Alright, lastly, you're allowed to move as much as you want, but if you're caught you come back to the kitchen until everyone is found. Winner gets the $600." He motions to the locked box that everyone pitched in $50, then hands the key to josh to keep a hold of until the end.

"Right, yeah, we get it. C'mon nobody likes to wait." Mike snaps his fingers, growing impatient, "Lets get going." while Beth sets a two minute timer on her phone, you slowly creep towards the door with a destination already firmly implanted in your mind. A countdown from three starts, your hand twisting the handle of the door, ready to bolt as soon as you hear-

"One!" The timer starts, and by the time everybody is out the kitchen, you're already halfway down the stairs to the basement. You sprint past all the potential hiding spots, far too obvious for someone of your calibre.

The sound of the basement door opening and a two pairs of footsteps make you jump "Mike-" Emily moans into, what you assume is a kiss. You sneak behind a pile of boxes before they can see you. They might not be seekers, but your plans will NOT be foiled by MIKE AND EMILY making out. Absolutely not.

They find some distant corner to hide and do whatever, you poke your head out for a second to check they don't notice you, when you see them firmly 'distracted' you sneak off without making a sound and get past the door at the furthest point in the room, deeper into the basement, and closer to your destination.

The old hotel. Before the Washingtons built the lodge on the mountain, there was a hotel here, they leveled it before construction, but you've spoken to josh about it, apparently remnants have remained down there, completely untouched. There should definitely be somewhere to hide. This would be easier if the two people looking for you weren't the two most likely to have knowledge of the layout of the hotel, but that doesn't mean you give up.

It means you have to be smart, sneaky and fast. You don't even need to be in a great hiding spot, you just need to be the last one found, you need to win. You feel a rush of adrenaline course through you when you see a pair of rotted wooden stairs, YES! It's still here! Soon you find yourself in what probably wouldve been the kitchen, and let yourself stop for a moment to check the time, 22:49. You've been running for five minutes, Josh and Beth have been searching for three.

That thought pushes you to keep moving- past the weird, long, creepy hallways and rooms and... smells. You come to a small room with a cage encasing it, god, how deep into this place are you? This wouldn't be a bad place to stay, if there were hiding spots. You check your phone: 22:52. If you had to guess, Emily, Mike, Hannah and Chris had probably been found by now. But you can't rely on that, time to get moving.

Eventually, the rooms and corners all turn to the one long corridor, stone exterior, definitely man made. Like some tunnel...? To where?? Where would there need to be a tunnel to on the mountain? Well, might as well check it out, not like you're going to lose at this point. If Josh or Beth decide to check the old hotel, they sure as hell aren't coming down this far.

A little ways down the tunnel, you see a huge set of metal double doors, this just keeps getting weirder. Thankfully the doors are open, just enough to squeeze yourself through and continue down. You check the time once you pass the door: 23:07. Oh you've won that $600. No contest. A surge of pride and adrenaline rush through you and motivate you to continue.

Seeing a set of stone stairs is... unsettling. Where they lead to even more so. You cautiously follow them up to a weird, giant room. Dark and abandoned... is this more of the hotel? No way, right? Leaving the room, you see a chain linked door down a tiny hallway, all other directions are blocked off by old furniture, you look through the door...

It seems empty? Just a bigger room, looks semi religious, maybe an old Chapel? You gently push the door open, it's loud, but who cares? Nobody's here anyway. Looking around in amazement, this entire building, untouched by humans in who knows how long, you might be the first person to be inside this building in decades, maybe the last ever! This is all so surreal... your thoughts are interrupted by... a call? You check, Josh. You've only got one bar of service here, it's a miracle any contact was capable of being made. Might as well tease him. You're not going back to the lodge until you're found.

"Heyy-" you start, unable to contain your cheeky giggles

"JESUS, Y/N WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?? Are you okay??" He sounds so relieved to hear your voice

"Yeah, obviously... so what's up, Washin-"

"You won, okay, wherever you are, just come out. We're all freaking out trying to find you"

"Nope." You state simply.

He sighs "You won. Please. You're freaking us out, you weren't supposed to go outs-"

"I didn't." God- its so hard to keep a straight face

"What...? You're still here? We've checked everywhere! I even checked that old hotel! Where are you??"

"No hints. I want one of you to find me." You hang up before he can protest, and check the time briefly: 23:38 before putting it away to explore the building. Along the sides are areas with chain linked walls, it's too dark to discern what's inside them. Except the one with an opening, heading inside you see a map of the mountain, outdated for sure, as it has the hotel labeled instead of the lodge.

From what you can guess, this building youre in is probably the sanatorium. Makes you wonder what happened that caused it to be abandoned. And for the Washingtons to do nothing with it. At the far end of the room, another giant set of double doors, you try to push them open, but they're either locked or way too heavy.

So the other side of the Chapel is your only option. One is completely blocked off, one that leads to another building in the sanatorium is locked and one at the far right takes you to a fenced in area, a makeshift graveyard, every name has the same date under it. Must've been a massacre... that's probably why it was abandoned, jeez... okay, well, that's just a dead end, so you turn back and- why does it feel like you're not alone anymore?

"Josh?" You call out, best case scenario, it's someone from your group and you've just given up your position... worst case... you creep towards the middle of the room "guys?" No response, maybe they're trying to scare you? Would be good payback for the $50 this excursion cost them. "You got me, okay? Come ou-" a screech interupts you, it sounds like an animal in distress, or a warning... "what the fuck?" It's coming from beyond the locked chain link door.

"Hello?" You step towards the sound, the door is locked, nothing will get you, it's fine... "is anyone there?" Another screech, you reach out to investigate the lock... and a gloved hand stops you.

Shit. You feel your blood run cold. This definitely isn't one of your friends. In half a second you whip your arm away and turn to face your assailant- old guy, weird goggles, flamethrower- before he can say a word you sprint across the room, out the door, down the stairs and back into the tunnel. You don't even know if he's following you, all you can hear are your own panicked breaths and your heart thumping so loud it feels like the walls are closing in on you with every beat.

You make it back to the double doors and slam them shut behind you. You can't lock them from this side, so the best you can do is close them and hope it'll slow him. God- you forgot how much of a maze this stupid hotel was, why the hell does there need to be so many hallways and dead ends?? Wait- the kitchen!! Yes! You know exactly where to go now! Just straight up. No more corridors and empty rooms.

The adrenaline has you acting pretty clumsy, tripping over steps, banging into things and slaming through doors. Once you're up that last set of stairs from the hotel to the lodge you start to feel exhausted- no, not yet- keep going, you got this. You reach out and open the door to the main basement, scaring the shit out of Ashley in the process "RUN! Holy shit-" you don't need to tell her twice. She grabs Chris, who was staring and the two run ahead. They hold the door to the basement open for you, after you practically jump up the stairs, somebody slams it shut and locks it.

The relief hits you like a freight train and your legs finally buckle, dropping you to the floor. Everyone hounds you with questions as you pant on the floor, trying to let the cold wood cool you down. You cover your eyes with your arm for a minute.

"What the hell happened??" You hear Matt ask

"I saw- shit- I saw somebody-" You pant- well at least I won't have to work out for the rest of the year. That sends everyone into a panic. More questions are thrown your way, the guys are discussing a plan of defense should it be necessary.

"What the fuck- who??" Jess' question is the one you hear.

"I dunno, some weird old guy- had a pair of goofy goggles and a fuckin' flamethrower." You take in several deep breaths and give Hannah a grateful smile when she hands you a water bottle.

"Where the hell did you go?" Josh gets close to you "where was he??"

You gulp down half the water before answering "I think I was in the sanatorium? I saw a map, I guessed that..." you trail off, everyone's stares making you suddenly self conscious "what?"

"Why the hell were you in the sanatorium?? That's dangerous Y/N!" Josh's concern comes out as a yell, in that way that someone only does when they really care.

"There's a tunnel from that old hotel beneath us to it, I was curious and I wanted to win." You shrug, god- this would be hilarious if it wasn't for that fucking insane person you met.

"There's a tunnel to the sanatorium?" Mike asks for confirmation.

"Yeah. And I won since I never technically went outside, by the way." You remind them. Sure this was a terrifying situation, but fuck it if you were loosing your reward.

"Shut up! Oh my god! There's a crazy guy up here, oh my goddd!" Ashley lashes out, you'd be offended if you hadn't scared her half to death a minute ago.

"Sorry." You mumble, drinking more water- fuck, have you ever sweat this much?

"Was he chasing you? Like, what happened?" Sam asks, always clear headed.

"I don't know, I just got there, Josh called me, I hung up, explored for a bit, heard some sort of animal, and he came up beside me before could see what it was. I just booked it, I didn't hear him I was too freaked." You answer truthfully

Josh takes your hand, seeing him serious is uncomfortable. "You should've come back when I called you."

"I wanted to win, I didn't think I'd see a fucking lunatic-" you attempt to defend your reasoning. was it sound? No. Did it work? Yeah.

"I told you you won." He asserted. He had one of those intense stares. One of the ones you feel a mile away. One that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

"I know... I just- I dunno... I wanted to explore. A whole building abandoned and lost to time? I couldn't help it. I was gonna come back after like an hour." You shake your head and sigh "I got excited. I'm sorry I worried you. I wasn't thinking, you know how I get, I'm really sorry"

He sighs. "Just don't do it again"

🦋❄️🦋❄️

🦋Butterfly Effect~ Too Soon...?🦋

❄️The Group Decided To Play Hide And Seek❄️

🦋Y/N Went To The Old Hotel And Found A Secret Tunnel🦋

❄️Y/N Refused To Return To The Lodge❄️

🦋So They Could Explore The Sanatorium 🦋

❄️Y/N Attempted To Investigate The Sound...❄️

🦋And Met The Stranger🦋

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

~ Elliebean714 🦋

[diamonddaze01]

⋆｡°✩ n o t e : thank you to everyone who tagged me in this ( @sungbeam , @petrichor-han , @haologram)! took me forever to finally get around to it, but excited to share my wrapped for this year!

⋆｡°✩ on poetry and homecomings - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first ever fic! based on a quote by the fantastic palestinian poet mahmoud darwish. something about the words, "If I ever see a flaw of yours, I'd say my eyes are the flawed ones" made something in my heart twinge in the most beautiful way. a purely self indulgent fic i wrote after an exhausting work week, and suddenly, here we are, 3 months later.

⋆｡°✩ plan b-day - hong jisoo

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my last fic of 2024! a lil drabble for the loveliest boy. no real notes on this, other than i am sure that murphy's law somehow targets me 50000x more than the average human being. again, purely self-indulgent, but also a wonderful way to close out the year.

⋆｡°✩ baby, darling, light of my entire life - choi seungcheol

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : the idea for this came to me after a crazy night out. though i myself have not gotten to this level of drunk yet, i definitely would scream about how pretty choi seungcheol is any day, any time. i was actually shocked when this blew up - it wasn't my favorite piece i'd written at the time, and i woke up one morning and it had skyrocketed from maybe 100 notes to upwards of 600 in one night. weirdly, i think this was maybe the third thing i had ever posted to this blog and it made me so happy that people actually enjoyed my writing. bdlomel, ily <3

⋆｡°✩ full throttle part i | full throttle part ii - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : oh, full throttle, what to say about you (i am combining both parts into one fic - the only reason there are two parts is bc tumblr is a bitch about formatting). there are few things that exhausted me, exhilerated me, enraged me, and made me feel as proud as i do looking at this finished fic. three weeks of non-stop writing every day after work, jotting down notes in the cleanroom and during lunch breaks, and storyboarding when i should have been sleeping culminated in most possibly the pièce de résistance of my year. i had so many people who cheered me on as i wrote this fic, battled through witty banter (that i myself could never say irl) and fiery headlines, but none cheered as loudly as @haologram and @ylangelegy. alta and kae were genuinely the wind beneath my wings as i wrote this, and reading their comments in the doc was what kept me going. in the end, i'm genuinely so happy with how full throttle turned out, and seeing the reactions i'm getting from it make me feel so fulfilled.

⋆｡°✩ the somerset affair - lee seokmin

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first forray into longer fic writing (and i'm still battling my way through it, but we don't talk about that). if anyone knows me, they know how much of a Bridgerton fan i am - i quote anthony's speech on the daily, and penelope/eloise are some of my fav romcom heroines ever written (until they both get married, but again, we don't talk about that). i felt like writing this fic was my way to pay homage to this fictional world i adore so much. i have a love/hate relationship with the actual tone of the series - its so hard to maintain the regency tone and also write in a way that's true to my own voice, but at the end of the day it's a challenge i relish. i'm so excited to finish this series this coming year!

⋆｡°✩ 40 fics posted - check them all out in my masterlist!

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : to be fair, a lot of these are drabbles i did for my 101 drabble prompt game, but fuck it we ball. maybe i'm just insane.

⋆｡°✩ ~133,470 words written

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : again, i think i might be a bit insane. did a sacrifice sleep to write? yes. did i storyboard at work? also yes. but then again, it's been an interesting year to say the least, and writing was a really good way to blow off steam after a stressful day at work.

⋆｡°✩ some of my fav fics i read this year - please read the warnings on each fic and do not interact with smut if you're a minor! this is in no particular order:

⋆｡°✩ unforgiven [boo seungkwan] - @haologram ⋆｡°✩ catch you when i can [smau] [chwe hansol] - @xinganhao ⋆｡°✩ the first snow [hong jisoo] - @junkissed ⋆｡°✩ what are the vibes? [choi seungcheol] - @daechwitatamic ⋆｡°✩ red card [kim mingyu] - @highvern ⋆｡°✩ an ode to hands and voice [boo seungkwan] - @ddeonghwa-s ⋆｡°✩ take my word for it [yoon jeonghan] - @ylangelegy ⋆｡°✩ prey [choi seungcheol] - @pochaccoups ⋆｡°✩ sit down [kim mingyu] - @gyuswhore ⋆｡°✩ ave, general [lee jihoon] - @amourcheol

these are just a few of my fav fics i've read, but if you want to see all my recommendations - i suggest checking out @diamond-reads !

⋆｡°✩ goals for 2025

⋆｡°✩ on diamonddaze01: i have a lot of collabs coming up in 2025! i hope that i can meet all those deadlines and write things i'm proud of. i've also learned that writing longer fics like full throttle or somerset affair make me feel more fulfilled as a writer, so expect a lot more of them as i further explore my writing style and characterization. i also want to go back to some of my older wips that i abandoned and reopen them, see where i can go with a fresh mindset. ⋆｡°✩ personal goals: i have a lot, but to name a few: read more, laugh more, love more. i also want to focus on establishing a better work/life balance - i know already that the coming months are going to suck at work, but i no longer want to drag the weight of corporate life home with me. work is work, and that's where it will stay. i want to prioritize my mental and physical well-being over all else, and that starts with reprioritizing things like work, my social life, and writing.

⋆｡°✩ final thoughts

⋆｡°✩ i started writing on tumblr because i was stressed from work and felt like i didn't have a community, especially at a new job and a new city. what started as some stress relief turned into a community of its own. i'm eternally grateful that i was able to meet some wonderful people this year that i truly feel a sense of belonging with. to everyone in the networks i'm in, to anyone that reads my work, to all the lovely people i've met: thank you, and i love you.

⋆｡°✩ if you've made it this far, thanks for reading, and thank you for all your support. i love you all endlessly. it's time to sign off for 2024.

with love as vast as the stars themselves, tara <3

⋆｡°✩ tagging (but no pressure): @tusswrites, @chanranghaeys, @bitchlessdino, @ddeonghwa-s , @c-oupsie, @lovetaroandtaemin, and anyone else who would like to do this!

[thatonepikminperson]

Head cannons that I may or may not have (Pikmin 4 Ones)

Dumbest ideas ever here we go (Long post btw, using the read more so it's not too long for people just scroll tags)

Just to get the relationship head cannons out of the way, Dingo is homies with Bernard, Yonny and Russ are evil besties, and Shepherd and Collin are friends, anyway time for some unhinged head cannons

Collin drinks coffee right as it's done, even if it's boiling hot just because he doesn't have the time to wait for it to cool down. His taste buds hate him for this

Russ has set off the fire alarm on the S.S. Shepherd at least 8 times during the Rescue Corps Mission on PNF-404, mostly on accident

Bernard sucks balls at cooking and is banned from the small kitchen on the S.S. Shepherd. Idk why I feel this one, but man's has 100% burnt the water

Oatchi has ate money before, how much? Up to you to decide

Dingo doesn't understand the concept of knocking 80% of the time

Yonny reads smut in public without batting an eye. I'm not elaborating more on this one, he just does

Bernard has a playlist of over 600 songs just for when he's driving, which ranges from hard rock to vocaloid

Shepherd was an adventurous child, and climbed out of her window to get out of the house when she was grounded for fun

Bernard may or may not have accidentally gotten Dingo into vocaloid, and Dingo can never live this down

Sometimes, Collin just makes rice and an egg and calls it a "good meal."

Shepherd forces Collin to eat sometimes

Shepherd often goes to dog shelters and has to physically restraint herself from adopting every single dog there

Oatchi has tried to eat Shepherd's hand on several occasions, and has failed every single time

Dingo is really good at most sports, except for dodge ball because of that one rule where if the person catches the ball your out. Dingo hates that rule with a burning passion

Bernard says "oopsie doopsie" and "lol" out loud, unironically, all the time

Yonny has once tried to add a robot leg to Oatchi. Shepherd did not find this as fascinating as he did, unfortunately

Russ is Yonny's second victim when it comes to consuming his concoctions, but he's way more willing to do than Dingo and will sometimes give the concoction a review like he's at a five star restaurant.

Russ has electrocuted himself at least 18 times before, and he's also electrocuted Yonny twice

Collin has had to drag Yonny away from Dingo to stop the doctor from experimenting on the poor ranger

And finally (For now, If I think of more, I'll add more), despite everyone's differences, everyone on the crew is very protective of each other. You mess with one person, you mess with all six of them. (Technically all seven of them if you count Oatchi)

[askhatchetfieldhigh]

ooc: why do you tag your blog with tags like "npmd fanart"? Last time I checked this blog wasn't a blog that posted fanart. It just doesn't make sense ??? like no offense and I get wanting people to see your blog but misusing tags like this is just going to make more people dislike your blog...

OOC: Hello. Totally valid question. Nicer way to put it? Sure. But valid nonetheless. Believe it or not, I actually had an old NPMD Instagram page that posted fanart. Very few followers. Has since been deleted. The tags I use on here on the same C&P tags to the ones I used on Instagram, just with some added role-play tags. When I created this blog, I did not know what I was going to do with it and if it would solely be an ask blog. If you scroll far enough, you will find a post of me hinting to making this a joint fanart/role-play account. I have been using the same copy-and-pasted tags since my first post, thinking I'd repost my fanart someday on here. I also, at the time, wanted my blog to be seen by everybody, and therefore maxed tags. As I've grown as a blog, I've just never thought to change the tags. It's always just been copied and pasted. This has since been changed and thanks for bringing this to my attention. On a different note I've said this before, and will say it again: I don't care if you don't like my blog. If you hate me, block me. I have a good fan base on here and I adore all 200 and something of my followers. I don't understand why everyone has been so nitpicky on my page recently, but please, I'm overwhelmed as is and really don't need people pulling apart every little thing I do on here. I do this for fun. If you don't like it, block me. Don't hate. Not to blame you anon, but this blog is for fun and I get many asks per day, which means I've amassed nearly 600 posts in 4 or 5-ish months. If I'm unknowingly plaguing the NPMD tags, block me and move on. No need to spread hate on this. I've gotten so many critics in my asks that I've deleted. Wanna guess how many? 10 in one week. Complaining about my tags, my answers to asks, my slow times to answer asks. This blog will never be perfect. I have a job, go to school, and run this. The only reason why I didn't delete this ask is because I find it valid and I will change this little thing. Please, the many anonymous criticisms I've been getting every week is exhausting and I hate having to delete all of them. Not to say you caused all of them, anon, I'm just putting it out there to everyone. No hate to you. Just please, stop with the spam critics. They do not make me want to keep running this blog. I have no plans to quit, but I am so tired of the stupid nitpicks. This one? valid. Hence why I answered. The people telling me to stop posting so much, among other things? please stop.

And to my 200+ loyal followers, love you all. Your support means the world to me. Truthfully. Answering asks really keeps me going.

[glacialswordsman]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: jamey is my name gay is my game (but also idrc what you call me. i've been called many-a-thing, such as: jammy, jimmy, jimjam, james, yimmy, yammy, yimyam, yamey, jamnelius, jamison the third, etc)

PRONOUNS: he/him ONLY! <3

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: if i hardly know you, IMs on tumblr is best until i know we vibe OOCly! then i'll give you my discord

NAME OF MUSE(s): kaeya alberich on this blog ofc but i also muse wriothesley, il capitano, xianyun, aether, jing yuan, boothill, argenti, hua cheng, xie lian, wei wuxi-- alright i'm not gonna put everyone here, if you wanna know the rest go to my mumu LMFAO

BEST EXPERIENCE: honestly a lot of my best experiences just stem from Meeting all the people i have and getting to befriend so many creative & wonderful individuals. making connections eclipses all else for me tbh

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS:

- no OOC communication. i refuse to RP with anyone who doesn't talk to me OOCly, because i want to make sure that 1) we vibe, 2) we have the comfort of knowing we can talk to each other about boundaries/icks/plots, 3) WE VIBE.

- possessiveness. exclusivity is different because i really only do that with people i've known for A WHILE and that i trust. but if we're shipping (not exclusively) and you don't let me even interact with someone/someone's muse that's the same character as yours, even if it's just one-off/not for shipping purposes??? nah. i'm good.

MUSE PREFERENCES: characters that have gone through so fucking much and try their best for everyone around them, themselves, or the object of their affection. characters that paint themselves to be the villains so they can keep the focus on themselves and take all the blame so those they care for don't get lumped with them. powerful. sacrificial. giant heart. smiling but dying inside. hot as fuck. yknow.

PLOTS OR MEMES:  both!!! i like both a lot! they're very situational because not everyone has the time to hunker down and plot stuff, or they just may not have the spoons or whatever other reason. plots are fun because you can get really in-depth and talk long term/potential ideas. memes are easy to use since, yknow, they already have ideas to build off of.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: i really don't mind either way, all i ask is that i'm not given one-liners if it's a serious rp. if it's some crack/one-shot, then whatever! but if we actually plotted something out, it'd devastate me if i was just met with like, one to three lines. to me, it says "i'm not really interested in this but i'm putting up with it." another thing i don't really want is to CONSTANTLY reply with like... 600+ words... i love writing a lot, i love setting up the exposition and doing dialogue, etcetc-- but i don't want to write out Every Single Detail or Every Single Thought about my character/my character has for EACH response, you know?

BEST TIME TO WRITE: late afternoon/evening/late night for me, usually! it really depends on what i'm doing that day, and how long my daily chores take (including game dailies/weeklies lmao)

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): UH? i don't???? think so??????????? i mean. i definitely try my best for everyone, and... uh. hm. maybe in some aspects i guess alksfmalkgm

tagged by: @ccaptain THANK U SAM STINKIE SMELLIE MWAMWAMWA tagging: ERM. UM. AUGGHHH the usual clowns @inblazes, @tartagla, @poswiecenia, but also @maskednihilism and @crimsononiarataki

[trashmouth-richie]

tagged by miss @bettyfrommars

“A wee game I thought would be fun: choose an excerpt from one of your posted fics, 600 words or less, that will make people curious for more. Share it with the title of your fic and little to no context.”

**from Open Arms: Chapter 3 - Every Now and Then I Fall Apart

tw: text alluding to addiction, forced relationships, depression, self hatred. 780 words whoops 😬

Rick had passed out next to you, his naked body slung over yours in some lame attempt of cuddling. You didn’t know how many lines you had done, or the number of shots you took, before stumbling in here.

Didn’t remember the lick of his tongue in your mouth, the feel of his hands on your curves, your was body numb from the drugs and to him. All you remember is right now, waking in a puddle of tears, the taste of blood on your lips, your nose full of it.

Peeling Rick’s limp form from you, you make for the bathroom connected to his master bedroom. Your reflection was horrific. blood dripped from your nostrils and coated your teeth, eyeliner dragged down your face like a halloween mask gone wrong. Your body, stark naked except for a purpling hickey on your collar bone, and white residue between your cleavage.

You look away in disgust, hatred for the eyes that stared back from the mirror.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up like this. Having spent the better half of every night for the last seven years the same way. Reaching for his hand, watching him slip through your fingers. Voice hoarse from crying, yelling, screaming his name.

Reaching for the plush hand towel Karen kept, you plop it into the sink and turn the faucet to hot, wetting it completely.

“So I'm a stranger now huh?”

Eddie’s words from early stuck with you long after you had left. Eddie fucking Munson. Seven years…No high or amount of time could ever make you forget his face.

The pain was always there. You were only able to paint over it with each new high you could conjure. But no matter the number of brush strokes, no matter the opaqueness of the paint color, Eddie always showed through. Like a ghost in the background of a photo.

The sink was nearly overflowing before you pulled the towel covering the drain, wringing the scalding water from it as you sat on the toilet lid and draped it over your face. The heated temperature having your skin raw and burning, a welcomed kind of pain.

Seven years and here he was, waltzing back into town like he hadn’t left you in shambles. Although him being back brought forth memories you wished would stop, seeing him alive and in the flesh settled a sore in your soul.

It also dug up anger. And under the wet towel you saw red.

Answers. That’s what you needed from him. You were just a kid then, you couldn’t understand, and maybe you still didn’t want to know why. But you craved to know, your mind gnawing at your skull to make sense of why he would decide to leave.

You had adapted to your surroundings, learned how to survive. He couldn’t. He was weak and spineless, that’s what everyone had said, and after a while you believed it too.

Stronger than Eddie Munson had ever been, you kept going. Living this god forsaken life because you didn’t have a choice.

You had your own place, a cute little two bedroom apartment. One you decorated to your liking. You had a job that paid your bills. You had someone that loved…someone that took care of you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

You were different, and so was he. What did he have? Nothing. No one.

The towel dripped water onto your bare thighs, and you concentrated on that little tick rhythm until it picked up, sending water down in almost a wave.

Maybe that’s how he wanted his life to be, maybe that was why he left in the first place. Maybe you were standing in his way the whole time like a roadblock.

You didn’t realize the heave of your chest, how your breathing was uneven and shallow, choking off.

Then you heard it. The gut wrenching sobs coming from yourself.

It didn’t work anymore. Quite frankly you wondered if it ever had.

Pretending Eddie was an asshole and that you were better without him was the only way for you to deal with him leaving in ‘82.

The lies you continued to tell yourself about Eddie were falling flat. Your brain could be fooled, but the space he lived in your chest couldn’t be coerced that easily. He was inescapable, nightmares or not, you yearned for the hours when he would visit you.

In your dreams he was real. Still in Hawkins.

Your sobs turned hysteric. Lungs burning with no reprieve as you felt the same loss and emptiness that burrowed in your chest seven years ago.

Why? How could he leave without you?

[piracytheorist]

And I was actually happy for today. Like, I was a little prepared for Damian's shit but I wasn't prepared to see that and be reminded of how I was made to be the bad guy for calling Damian a bully.

Honestly that kind of behaviour from the fandom is probably the second main reason I avoid looking into other people's blogs (and why I have the dami/anya tag blocked) right after avoiding manga spoilers. If I'm to look through someone's blog for funny and relatable sxf stuff and then stumble upon someone talking about how sweet and cute and completely blameless Damian is... yeah nope bye.

I know, I know, not everyone is like this. I'm not putting the blame on all of his fans. Though that's not easy to say when I know there's a post out there talking about how Damian never bullied Anya - like, iirc, that was the actual title or something - and it has over 600 notes. And along with this thing and being talked to like I'm the wrong one, I cannot really feel comfortable among this fandom in general. Like okay love whatever blorbo you like and ship whatever you wanna ship, that's not what I'm judging here.

But if I'm to risk being told I'm making people uncomfortable just because I use the word "bully" for a fictional character who actually exhibits bully behaviour... yeah I just need that stance really fucking away from me.

[sleepis4theweak]

Hiya! I’m kind of a small creator on here and trying to get my rottmnt fic an audience but no matter what I do as promo material (art, skits, rambles) nothing ever works to get more than like 2 notes max. I’m confident in my story’s quality so I’m fairly sure that’s not the issue. I was wondering if you have any advice or anything like that? Your stuff is lovely and get a lot of community engagement so I’m curious if there was anything you actively did that helped you grow! I hope this doesn’t come off as rude or desperate, I just wanted to know if I was missing something since I’m pretty new to Tumblr. Enjoy your day ^^

Don't worry! You don't come off as rude or desperate at all!! <3

But tbh... you are asking the wrong person here...

I'm going into marketing, and I spent a full school year in high school doing an independent study on social media algorithms. So I know a LOT about how to grow social media followings- specifically instagram accounts.

But I never actually studied tumblr. I used to use instagram as a platform, but knowing how the algorithm worked was too stressful for me... I'd post stuff and be like "the algorithm won't like this because blah blah blah." Eventually I was drawing for the algorithm and not for me, and so I quit because it just wasn't fun anymore...

Which is why I have very specifically not studied Tumblr's algorithm, because I don't want it to turn into the same situation as with instagram. So I don't know a ton about how to grow a following... and also I've only been on tumblr for 5 months...

THAT BEING SAID: I can walk you through my tumblr and how it's grown!

My very first post was of a meme redraw with the 2012 turtles. I think it got around 1,600 likes?

I posted a couple more things, with varying amounts of likes and such. My first comic (which I never actually completed past the first part) got a total of 7 likes within the first months of posting it. Only when I got more followers did the like amount change.

When I posted my first chapter of the Flashbacks AU, I had 33 or so followers. I think I got to like... 300 followers from that first chapter alone. From there it was just... a steady growth of followers I guess. And with followers comes more reblogs, and with more reblogs comes more followers.

I have around 1,600 followers now. Not everyone is gonna like my posts, I think I get around 20 for responded asks and 100-300 for random pieces of art. Comics get closers to 600 or so. It depends on the content.

I think there are a couple of universal things that help grow an account:

1- Making sure your content is reaching the right people. Put the right tags in. Go crazy with them in fact. If I'm posting a piece with Rise Mikey in it, Im gonna tag: Mikey, Mikey tmnt, Mikey 2018, ROTTMNT, Rise Mikey, etc etc. On instagram they are currently trying to get people to limit their use of tags, but I don't think the same thing applies here. Even tho tags don't help as much here, they are still a good tool!

2- Consistency. Idk how it works on this platform, but consistency is generally a good thing! With instagram theres an actual method to it (1 post a day= good, but the more posts you do a day the less people it shows it to), it might be worth it to look up if tumblr has something similar.

3- Have fun with it! I know this is kinda lame to say... but don't change your content for views. Just... do what you like and eventually your target audience will find you :)

4- Engage with what audience you do have! It's fun to bond with people online, and it helps that "community engagement" piece you talked about!

5-... stalk people hehe. (By which I mean: Look at what other artists post! What tags do they use, do they reblog their own posts a lot, etc etc. Also look at artists with similar followings to your own. For example, studying Cass might not be very helpful, because Cass has a large amount of followers and I'm convinced they could post a picture of a blank canvas and still get 1,000 likes hehe... BUT- I mean you could scroll down to Cass' (or other artist's) first posts and see what they were doing then! Just... observe others I suppose!)

Id love to tell you likes don’t matter, that what matters is having fun and loving what you are drawing. But also I do know how it feels to post something you are really proud of and then have no one like it- it sucks.

But just keep on going :) You'll find your people eventually I'm sure.

OH ALSO: IF ANYONE ELSE HAS ANY TIPS FEEL FREE TO REBLOG AND ADD STUFF IN!!! <3

[moldybits]

What's it like being queer in a super rural area? I live in a "rural" red area right now that still has nearly a million people, but it's expensive here, and my family wants to move somewhere cheaper and redder, like Arkansas, so I'm really nervous about that idea

It’s definitely a challenge. I will say I’m not in the worst place to be. I’m north east of pittsburgh by about 80 miles, so it’s definitely not like being in the deep south by any means. But I live in a town of 600 people and work in the next town over, which is about 3,000 people. So…. it’s pretty fucking rural lol. Of course, I do see so many MAGA 2024 type shit everywhere, people love bringing up how it’s Biden’s fault their prescriptions are expensive (🙄), and shit like that.

However, though, most people just keep their mouth shut where I live. I maybe have gotten dirty or confused looks, but so far I’ve never experienced any issues. A lot of people here are old country farm folk, so they’ve had respect like beaten into them. It’s rude to just… bring that shit up. Which is fine by me. Talk about me behind my back for all I care, just leave me the hell alone.

It’s very Christian here as well (extremely protestant ofc), but a lot of the Christians I’ve interacted with have zero issues. My boss is a small town farm girl who’s an evangelical, super pro life and stuff like that, but she loves talking about my relationship with my partner. She even took the both of us out to her farms and got ice cream on one of our days off. A lot of people here are the “well why wouldn’t I love you? Jesus loves everyone!” type Christians, which I can work with a lot easier lol.

I mean, I have they/them pronouns on my work name tag and so far no one has said anything at all. My coworkers all know I’m queer and respect that. If anyone has ever had any issues with me, I had no idea. And that’s all I really care about.

I will say though, there is an othering feeling. Like I don’t belong. I’m not from this area, I’m not like these people. I was born and raised in NH about 45 miles from Boston, so going back home it’s just… more likely to see other queer people. I feel less afraid that people are watching my every move. Here, being so butch as I am, people definitely stare as they try to figure me out.

Overall though, I think the average person here really doesn’t give a shit. They’re too focused on their farms or jobs or drugs or whatever to not care what’s in my pants or who I’m fucking lol. I’ve lived here since Sept 2021 and I can’t recall ever having an issue. But this is more Midwest, so culture will definitely be different than other rural areas.

Hope this gives at least a little insight.

[tiny-chubby-bird]

hello!

as someone who likes to read and has also posted some stories myself on a secondary account, i'd like to suggest something to you. now, i am not someone to tell you what you should and shouldn't do, you're a free individual, so this isn't supposed to be a "do this or else!!" kinda post.

i'd just really like to suggest putting your works underneath the "read more" option on tumblr. if it's smut, some people may not want to read it, or maybe you don't want minors to immediately see all the dirty stuff. you could put the content warnings and notes and stuff on top, and then the actual writing under read more, for example (just a suggestion!!).

if it's not smut but also not short (i think anything above maybe 600 words can be seen as long on tumblr text post format), it would make scrolling through posts a lot easier to have those stories also under read more. i often scroll through the "your tags" section to look for stories, but will have to scroll past really, really long texts because a story with 3-5k words is not put under read more. it can be a bit exhausting, sometimes even annoying.

i see people complaining about unwanted smut and long walls of text every now and then and, while there are some filtering options, sometimes some tags still slip through and people still see what they try to avoid, and i know that tagging things properly can be a bit difficult at times if you don't know the right words/tags to use, or maybe you're as forgetful as i am. i know that's not my or your problem in particular, but we can still all work together to at least try and make this site as enjoyable as possible for everyone (not a very realistic goal, but an attempt often still counts for something).

tl;dr: it would be super appreciated if longer stories could be put under read more, so smut can be more easily avoided if it's unwanted, and there aren't walls of texts to scroll past.

if you perhaps don't know how to put something under read more, here's how:

on pc, when pressing enter to make a new paragraph, these symbols should show up

and the gray one on the far right side, when clicked, will put anything underneath it under read more. the same/similar symbols should be shown on tumblr mobile.

i am aware there's the option in your account settings to "shorten long posts" but some may not have this activated. i didn't until today because i didn't even know about it haha.

again, i'm not telling you what to do. this is mostly for new and/or younger people that may not know of this feature. this may be just my own personal preference, but i feel like it's kind of a respectful thing to do. sorry for rambling, hope you have a nice timezone!

[backslashdelta]

.

[wisteria-blooms]

long hair & tattoos (bill weasley & reader) (14/15)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

CHAPTER 14: Aided by two drinks too many, you dig into Bill's heart to gauge how he feels about something you've been thinking about - matrimony and who he'd favour for it . 5.1k words. TAG LIST moved to the bottom! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged or if I've missed you.

A/N: How... did we get here already. I feel like the last chapter is going to be dialogue-heavy to tie up all the loose ends so this one was good practice. Thank you everyone for reading, and leaving a comment! Seriously makes my day to get a notif during work with a comment of someone stumbling onto this baby I've nestled since February.

"Hush, I know they said the end is near. I'm still on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you."

CHAPTER 14: MATTERS OF MATRIMONY (A MILE AWAY)

In a room full of family, one thing rang true: Malfoys, in addition to perpetual winners and never-criers, were also functional drunks. Malfoys weren’t slobbery, embarrassing drunks, but very truthful and sentimental drunks. Phrases like “Rosie, I’m glad you chose a different designer because you looked very much like an expensive cream puff at last year’s wedding” flowed like water. Anyway, it turned out that, through lineage, you were no exception to the rule.

Your current state was punctuated by the wine that never stopped flowing the rest of the night. In fact, there were enchantments to keep your glasses full of the best wine your Uncle Theodore’s money could buy and pay the caterer. Every time the meniscus on the crystal glass dipped too low, your cup magically rose to where it should’ve been had it never touched your lips. And it was a shame it went like honey down your throat.

“Have you done the math, Bill?” You pointed to the 600-galleon bottle of Petrus on display at the centre table. Bill shook his head, so you explained. “It works out to 150 galleons per glass, 30 galleons a sip.”

“Have you just done the calculation?” he asked. “It’s impressive if you did.”

“As kids, practicing arithmetic,” you stopped and corrected yourself, “not drinking it that young, of course. Just doing the math.”

As the night progressed, things got hazier and hazier. It felt nice to finally let loose, say things unabashedly and without the muzzle that was a social filter. You were always on the lookout for Bill, who was sometimes beside you but otherwise preoccupied talking to your father or some other family members. You even congratulated Genevieve who told you she was grateful you were here. To be fair, it wasn’t you or her talking—it was the alcohol that spurred the camaraderie. You met Maxime, though his features were all blurring into one tall, blonde blob and you didn’t even remember what you’d said, but he was pleasant.

At this current point in time, the fairy lights up ahead were beginning to look like a blur, like you’d permanently crossed your eyes. You were twirling Charlotte—or was it Clara?—around to the music on the slope of land overlooking the sea. They weren’t twins, just born two years apart, but they looked very much alike. There was less people on the floor than before, and you were betting on staying here until your youngest cousins were swept by Aunt Rosamund.

“To be young again!” you exclaimed, watching your youngest cousin nimbly twirl on the floor.

“You’re only six years older than me!” Charlotte or Clara retorted with a shake of her head, her wild blonde hair flapping about.

“I pray you never reach my age,” you said. “There’s so much shit to think about and it’s bloody confusing.”

“What’s there to think about?” she questioned earnestly.

“Just wait until you reach my age,” said a voice.

You spun around and came face-to-face with a familiar chest. “Bill!” you exclaimed, a warm tingle arising in your chest, and fell towards him. He caught you by the hands. You looked up at him with a lopsided smile. “Where’ve you been?”

“Looking for you. Thought it was easier with the thinning crowds.”

“Where is everyone?” You looked around, your hand still firmly in his hand. “Draco, Astoria, mum, dad?”

“They went home.”

“Without me?” you gasped dramatically.

“They said you were having too much fun, so I was tasked to bring you back safe and sound,” Bill said. Then he raised an arm and prompted you to twirl around. “That is, unless you want to dance the rest of the night away.”

“Is it that time already?” you asked, facing him again when you’d finished spinning. “Then I think it’s best to leave before we’re the last ones here.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “There’s a carriage down the steps waiting for us.”

“Bye, sweet, dear, cousin of mine.” You embraced who you realized was Clara. She was a little more reserved of the two and asked less invasive questions.

“Bye, (Y/N),” she responded in a whisper, her hands lightly pressed on your back. “I hope it’s your wedding I go to next. I’m sure you’ll have a much better dance floor.”

“We’ll dance until the next morning,” you promised.

Then you skittered to keep up with Bill, leaving the faint chatter and last round of drinks behind you. You began descending the stone steps, leading to the shore where your carriage would be parked. It would’ve been completely dark if it weren’t for the dainty little lamps in the flowery bushes providing light. This, along with your impacted coordination, made you prone to tumbling down and face planting on the cement. Hence, you were very cautious with your steps. It was hard though, because your high heels had progressively blistered your feet throughout the night, and your heels felt like they were on fire.

Bill noticed your awkward gait and stopped on the step in front of you. “You’re going to break an ankle,” he remarked.

“My feet hurt,” you whined. “I very much abhor these shoes.” And then came the first flow of liquid courage. “I only wore them because you’re so tall.”

Bill laughed, then crouched down slightly and patted his thighs. “I’ll take you down the steps.”

Your eyes lit up. You couldn’t pass up a free ride. “Really?”

“If you broke an ankle, I’d have failed my task of getting you home safely.”

“Say no more, I’m already convinced.”

You looped your arms around his shoulders and jumped up on his back. Bill’s hands were securely holding onto the back of your thighs. He felt sturdy and infallible. You adjusted yourself to get comfortable—which included happily planting your chin on his shoulders and burying your nose in his soft hair. You accidentally let out an happy groan as you nestled in.

“Did you have a pleasant night?” you asked as he began moving.

“Of course.”

You stroked the material of his suit jacket and murmured in appraisal, “My changed man of a father actually did a fair job with you. I would’ve chosen the same thing for you.”

“I suppose a wedding’s a very special event,” Bill responded.

“Have you been to a lot of weddings?”

“Yes,” he said. “I have a lot of extended family. There’s at least four weddings a year.”

“I feel like Genevieve is going to pave the way for a slew of cousin marriages,” you said. “Claude next, then Draco, then probably Charlotte then Clara.”

“And where are you in this?” Bill asked.

“I’ll end up last. I’ll be a haggard old witch by the time a man gets on his knee for me, only because we’d both be dying and he can’t stand anymore,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh. You poked your head at Bill, nose just inches away from his cheek. “Have you ever thought of getting married?” you queried, then quickly added: “Don’t these kinds of events make you wish for it?”

Bill paused for a moment, his body stiffening and the corner of his lip tightening slightly. “I think about it more often that I’m older, but I can’t be rushed into it.”

You cocked your head. “Who’s rushing you?”

“The same person who’s rushing you.”

“Narcissa is rushing you?” you purposely misinterpreted with a snicker. “Did she sit you down and give you the talk in the middle of a busy café?”

You smiled when you heard the sweet notes of Bill’s laughter joining yours in harmony. “No, it’s Molly.”

“I can see that,” you hummed. Molly was very motherly, and her wanting to dote on her grandchildren was very in-character for her.

“Mum’s always on my back, too, heckling me to get married,” Bill said, “because my younger brothers have partners, and I’m apparently too old to be single anymore.”

“That’s not true,” you argued. “You have plenty of time. You’re a man. You’re blessed with an infinite reproductive mechanism.”

“Tell that to my mum.” Bill inhaled deeply and pitched his voice up to sound like a Howler. Fred and George got a ton of them back in school. “William Weasley!”

The shrillness of his voice stirred some critters in the trees. After thirty years alongside his mother, Bill naturally did an amazing impression of Molly. You nearly snorted before breaking into a braying laugh. It was nearly midnight but you could’ve cared less about the noise you were making.

Bill continued to flaunt his theatrical talents, limited to his voice and animated facial expressions because his hands were preoccupied supporting you on his back. “Arthur and I will be in wheelchairs by the time you have a wife, nevertheless a child! We want to be present for our grandchildren. We want to visit you and your wife at St. Mungos when it happens, not to already be patients there.”

You giggled. “At least you didn’t get the talk about your eggs shrivelling up. It’s quite the nasty thought, isn’t it?” Then, you wondered aloud, “How does your dad go about it?”

“He’s indifferent but he just gets roped in. Mum will comment about how it would be nice to have a grandchild and dad will just sit there and agree.”

You could imagine that scene perfectly. Bill, walking into the kitchen innocently, trying to fix himself some tea and a sandwich, and Molly remarking how quiet and child-less it was in the house. “Does she hound your brothers, too?”

“Not at all,” Bill responded with a sigh. “Fred could marry a Hippogriff and she would be overjoyed that he at least married someone… or something. It’s me who has to get it perfectly right.”

“It’s unjust. All the expectations seem to fall on our shoulders, doesn’t it?” you commented.

“When Fred and George dropped out of school, mum was only livid for a week before she accepted the circumstances. I don’t reckon I’d have gotten the same treatment,” he continued. “The curse of being the eldest child.”

“You’re the only one who understands, Bill,” you added. “I’m the one who takes the brunt of Draco’s crap.”

“Do you?” Bill mused. “Funny, he did mention something about that.”

“He was talking about me?” you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold on his shoulders.

“They weren’t awful things,” Bill assured.

In the silence that lapsed, you were feeling braver than usual. Alcohol had a funny way of working. You found it ironic that people referred to it as liquid courage, because liquid was easily tampered with. You preferred to think of it more like armour—heavy, study. Regardless, alcohol unlocked a trove of questions that you kept buried in the deepest confinements of your heart, because you never had the nerve to ask when you were sober.

There were real repercussions, real chances of irreversible damage, especially if you were to ask: “Weren’t you involved with someone before you came back to England?”

“For a little bit, yeah”

You frowned slightly. Bill didn’t catch this as he was focused on getting down the steps with dropping to both of you. Admittedly, you were jealous that someone out there got to experience loving Bill Weasley, got to hear him tell them ‘I love you’ back, and forming a spoken and physical connection with him. The hope of that was slipping through your fingers every hour that ticked down to tomorrow’s departure.

“Why did it end?” you prodded.

“We just weren’t right for each other. It happens.” Bill shrugged, his shoulders rising and prompting your shoulders to graze his jaw. “Ended on good terms.”

“Was it that woman at the bank?”

Bill paused in thought and turned around to look at you. “What woman?”

“The tall blonde one that you kissed on the cheeks.” You tapped him where the shadow fell from his structured cheekbone twice. “Did you fancy her?”

Bill laughed, maintaining eye contact, and your face turned redder than they’ve ever been. The invincible armour from the alcohol faltered momentarily and you felt hot shame for asking.

“No, that’s Fleur Delacour,” he explained. “She’s the global liaison for Gringotts. She’s been trying to recruit me to our sister branches across Europe.”

“Oh.” Well, you felt like an absolute fool.

“What would make you think that now, (Y/N)?” he teased.  

“You just looked close.” You quickly tried to reroute the conversation, not wanting to talk about how hopeless you felt when you thought they were together. Besides, you wanted to know less about her and more about how Bill felt about matrimony. “I bet Molly would want you to get married to someone like Fleur.”

“There’s no chance of it,” Bill deflected with a laugh.  “They’ve got to be the right person for me, not my mum. Otherwise, it’ll be Molly waiting at the altar in a suit.”

You stifled a laugh and looked up. You were blanketed by a starry sky, the moon arched so perfectly in the sky. There was no better night to get everything off your chest. And just like that, your liquid courage solidified again. “What’s the right person for you?” you asked, your heart beating like a hummingbird against Bill’s strong body.

“Are we still rehearsing?” he asked with a low chuckle. The ripples from his voice vibrated pleasantly against your own chest.

“No.” You felt your face grow hot again and you attempted to hide it in the crook of Bill’s neck. “I’m just curious.”

“It’s not complicated,” he said with a shrug.

“What’s complicated?” you asked hotly. You shook his shoulders. “You’re complicated, Bill! Answer my question, it’s not a riddle.”

“Isn’t someone demanding tonight?” he commented, voice thick with amusement.

“I have a right to know!” you countered, lightly smacking his chest. You were steadfast in your line of questioning.

Bill sputtered and cowered a little. “And exactly what right is that? Is there a written decree somewhere? Did we sign on anything? Because I’d never sign my name without reading every line of the contract and in-between them, too.”

You conceded. “Bill, I admit I have no good answer to that,” you said nonsensically, your brain too fuzzy to even try to formulate something reasonable or witty.

“A fair enough answer.” He hoisted you back up when he felt you slumping down. “I suppose a kind woman who cares about her family and mine. I told you, not complicated.” He turned his head back to look at you, the twinkling lights reflecting in his blue eyes. “Satisfied now, (Y/N)?”

You incoherently murmured a soft ‘no’, the words lost in your breath. Bill’s words were buzzing in your mind and you were trying to frantically mould yourself into his criteria. Were you kind enough? Did you care about your family enough? Did you care about his family enough? Percy’s words replayed in your mind and a bubble swelled up in throat: clearly, you didn’t care enough about them if you strung him and his family along in your selfish scheme.

You curled your fists and squeezed them until your fingernails made red crescents on your palm. You had to ask, all whilst praying he’d forget you’d asked tomorrow: “Have you met the right person?”

A few seconds of silence passed before he responded, “That’s a secret.”

“We don’t keep secrets between us,” you moaned in a half-whine. You continued without any direction. “What if someone asks?”

“I reckon we’ve thoroughly convinced everyone so there’s no need to ask anymore,” Bill reasoned. He chuckled as he descended the last step with a hop. You looked up to find a carriage in front of you, wheels flush with the edges of the white boardwalk. There was a driver leaning on the vehicle’s front door wordlessly with a cigarette in between his fingers.

You hated that Bill was right. There was no one left to convince. But if this was your initial objective, then why were you wishing there was more to be done? More clandestine meetings, more planning for a future that was now only half-fiction and half-hope, and most importantly, more time spent together.

Bill helped you up the steps to the seats. You tucked yourself in the corner while Bill made small talk with the driver, whose French accent was as thick as the thoughts in your mind. The carriage sped through the empty promenade. You remained silent though you had only a million more questions to ask Bill. Secretly, you were hoping one of them would lead him to say, ‘you’re the right person for me, (Y/N)’ and there’d be nothing left to ask of him. Instead, you reclined on the soft headrest and watched the dark waves rocking onto the cobbled shore, the sparse amount of boats in the water, and late-night stragglers speeding by you. Occasionally, your glance flittered to Bill’s hand resting on the seat beside you, wishing so badly to hold those fingers again.

When you arrived at the entrance of the villa, the driver and carriage disappeared into the thick of the night. You kicked off your shoes on the front steps and carried them up the stairs to your room. It was eerily quiet inside as everyone had gone to sleep. After you’d undressed and wiped your face of any residue in the washroom, you clambered on the bed, head pounding and limbs unsteady. Bill, as if reading your mind, went to the washroom and came back out with two glasses of water.

“Here.” Bill sat on the edge of bed beside you and held one glass to you. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better tomorrow.”

You accepted his offering and chugged the cold liquid like no tomorrow. You’d drink the entire sea here if the French Minister of Magic allowed it.

“Why doesn’t it fill up immediately like the wine did?” you complained, eyeing at the bottom of the glass when water stopped pouring down your throat. Bill let out a throaty chuckle and took your empty glass.

“You just ask, and I’ll refill it for you.”

“Even at three a.m.?” you asked.

“Anytime,” he affirmed.

He left his full glass on the nightstand for you and took the empty one in his hands. When you heard a small creak and the bed get lighter, you called out.

“Bill?”

You peered at him through half-lidded eyes at his strong back and the light from the washroom filtering past his form.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

‘Stay,’ you wanted to plead. ‘Stay with me.’

You reached out and gestured for him to come closer to you. He obliged. Apprehensively, you wrapped your arms around him, fingers shyly grazing his back, and whispered, “Thank you, you’re—”

Bill remained quiet as you tried to get the words out, but sleep was grappling for you, its treacherous hands reaching out to pull you to slumber. You, however, didn’t want to fall asleep, not knowing there were only twelve more hours to make things right.

“So—”

Your efforts were futile; you were falling in and out of consciousness quickly.

“Good—”

The last two words died on your lips. ‘You’re so good to me’, you wanted to say. In your half-lucid state, you were sure you felt Bill rest his chin on your head, and his hands gently rubbing circles on the small of your back.

“Anytime,” you thought you heard him confirm.

Before you could ask him to repeat himself, you were sound asleep. You recently developed an uncanny habit of falling asleep in inconvenient places. You didn’t think Bill’s arms would be one of them, but were you ever glad they were.

The next morning, you’d woken up with just a slight headache and a hankering for a full, greasy English breakfast. Instead, you just stood on the balcony, letting the sun kiss your skin all over and watching the waves crash onto the shore.

“I’m going to miss it here,” you mumbled to Bill who was standing behind you with your luggage.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” he said.

“I know,” you sighed heavily and turned to face him, “but I always hate going back to life as it was.”

‘As it was meaning,’ you clarified to yourself. ‘Without you, without this.’

“(Y/N),” he called, ready to confer knowledge. “Your life is up to you. It doesn’t have be a loop if you let it.”

Whatever Bill said, it didn’t matter. In your opinion, summer always ended when the trip to France ended. In the two weeks you were gone, the weather in England had either taken a downward dip in temperature, or it was just unimpressive compared to the French Riviera. The English weather was a parody of itself; it boasted grey skies and looming end-of-summer thunder today just as a private welcome-back party for you. Instead of turquoise beaches and palm trees, you only had rotting and overflowing gutters and thinning trees in the parks to look forward to.

You stopped briefly to say goodbye to your family at Malfoy Manor. You and Bill left right after, supposedly going home to the penthouse together. You walked mainly in silence. Every second that passed was tortuous, because you knew you were counting down to the end of everything. Last night, you had twelve hours, now you only had twelve minutes. Eventually, you arrived at the intersection between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. You treaded down the slope towards the bustling shopping street and continued walking until you were at the entrance of the flat. There, Bill laid your suitcase by the swinging doors and kept his own in his hands.  

“Thank you,” you said, referring to the luggage. “And for coming with me.”

“My pleasure, (Y/N),” he responded. “Thank you for having me. The French Riviera is indeed as beautiful as the books say it is.”

Any other words were lodged in your throat, so you waited.

A large drop of rain splattered on your face, the start of more precipitation to come.

You waited.

The amassed rain poured down the sewer like the last shred of hope you held onto, spiralling into darkness, like a buoy pulling on your heart.

You waited.

Finally, Bill spoke. He held up a hand, his main and middle finger slightly bent. “I’ll see you around.”

You’d be lying if you said that was what you wanted to hear.

With that, he apparated away.

You stared at the spot where Bill stood and at the imprint he made with his loafers in the grass. Like the hot, summer days, he’d disappeared as fast as he’d came, leaving the last few months nothing more than a memory and a canyon of deep regret that you would’ve made more out of it—slept in less, stayed up later. Should you be glad you never admitted your feelings to Bill? Because his abrupt goodbye wasn’t conducive to him asking you to rekindle where you’d left off.

Dejected, you let out a long sigh and picked up your suitcase. You unlocked the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and lugged your stuff back upstairs to your dusty sliver of a room.

As if you needed anymore reminders besides the weather that the summer was over, the joke shop received a new wave of customers: young wizards and their parents perusing Diagon Alley on their annual back-to-school trip. Work was equally mundane and quiet, and you would slump on your office desk, quill in hand, crossing off all the days you’d gone without talking to Bill.

August 23th: I guess we said goodbye in Diagon Alley, so that counts as something.

August 24: He’s probably unpacking.

August 25th: It takes a day or two to settle in.

August 26th: Nothing.

August 27th: He could be catching up with work. 

August 28th: I sneezed twice today, so maybe he’s thinking about me.

August 29th: Nothing.

On Saturday, you stayed at home, battling your own thoughts from the comfort of your couch. The sun was out for a last hurrah and it was beautiful outside, but you just wanted to take refuge at home.

“(Y/N)?”

George crouched on the floor and waved his fingers in front of your face. Your eyes were still focussed on the radio metres in the background, your magazine hanging precariously from your fingers.

“(Y/N)?” he tried again. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, George?” You finally acknowledged him by slapping your magazine on the leather couch.

“Firstly, since when were you interested in Flourish and Blott’s quill catalogue?” He stared at the discarded magazine on the couch. “Secondly, what happened in France?”

“Nothing,” you responded a little more maliciously than you would’ve liked. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I got an O—for outstanding, if you remember—in human empathy back in school and I just know you’re not as chipper as you were before you left,” he responded matter-of-factly. “Did something happen there?”

“No,” you sighed, “I just…” You trailed off and crinkled your eyebrows, trying to figure out what you missed. Maybe it was seasonal depression, and you were muddling Bill with the tropical weather in Nice. It was definitely easier to not say anything and figure it out yourself. “George, would you like to come to the beach with me?”

“Sure?” he responded quizzically. “Since when did you go to the beach in England? Who are you?”

When he noticed you glowering at him, he shut up. “Prime time for it right now,” he said instead. “I’ll get my stuff.”

You wanted to go to the beach to feel a spark, to regain what you lost when you came home. You prayed that Bill was just a supporting act in the play that were your melancholy feelings.

After a short ride on the tram, you hopped off right at the entrance and walked onto the lukewarm sand with George, approaching the water from the west. The sun in England was so weak compared to the brilliant rays you soaked up in Nice. There were bodies of young females splayed out on the sand, but you would bet your life savings they’d never tan as easily as you did. Your mouth tightened when twigs and seaweed washed up on the green shore.

“Well?” George asked, staring at the water that creeped towards his feet. “Did you want to swim or something?”

“I’m not sure.” You experimentally dipped a finger in. The water felt slimy and you immediately grimaced. “Not really.”

George raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. “Then why’d you come to the beach?”

“I don’t know.” You retracted your finger and lied through your teeth. “I miss being right by the water, I guess. It’s awful to have to take the tram here and have it,” you gestured out to the desolate space, “look like this.”

“You’ll go again next year,” George assured. “With me, though.”

“Why with you?”

You almost laughed at the irony of your question. When your mother propositioned you for the trip, you’d almost forgotten about asking Bill. You recalled Fred’s shocked face as he held the parchment and him asking you if you’d lost your mind. Now, all you could think of was inviting Bill and spending another August with him.

“Because,” George drew in a deep breath, almost like he didn’t want to unfurl the next words on his tongue, “Bill is going back to Egypt.”

You couldn’t control the startled look on your face. George just looked at you, oblivious that his words sent a shockwave of hurt through your heart. You needed a few moments to process this new piece of information and any semblance of a response was lost on your lips. It made no sense. Bill hadn’t mentioned Egypt at all throughout the summer, he looked ready to stay put. But again, he also hadn’t made plans with you for after the summer. You supposed you weren’t an important piece in the chessboard that was his future.  

“Is he?” you choked out, grateful that the pale waves in front of you were washing out your bleak tone. “When?”

“September first, we’re having a farewell dinner tomorrow,” George responded, hands in pockets and standing so casually, like he wasn’t clenching your poor heart with his bare fists with every sentence he spoke. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Nope.” You fiddled with your hands and a thought came to you, eliciting a bitter chuckle. “We’re not really together, so why should he tell me?”

“Fake relationship or not,” George turned to you, “you should get your goodbyes in before he leaves, yeah?”

You stared out at the sea. Your lips pulled into a pout when you realized you only had tomorrow to catch him. Tomorrow was the last day of August.

“Yeah, I will.”

Your voice was full of conviction, but your will to confront impending heartbreak was faltering fast.

After your trip, you headed back to the flat. You were quiet on the tram, your eyes flittering from the streets of the shopping alley to George’s face. You studied it and compared it tirelessly to Bill’s. George had a sturdier face, Bill’s was more chiseled and elegant. George’s eyes favoured a warmer brown shade with a light dusting of hazel specks, but bore no trace of blue like Bill’s. George’s nose was more crooked, Bill’s was straight. Most importantly, George was staying in England, and Bill was going back to Egypt.

As your eyes ran from freckle to freckle, you wondered if you were going crazy, trying to compare the two because they were different people, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about Bill.

Later that night, when Fred returned, you were in a worse state than before.

“Welcome back to civilization, (Y/N),” Fred said as he sauntered through the doors. “How was France?”

“Great.”

“Are you coming to dinner tomorrow?”

“I’ll think about it.” You shrugged, but your face flushed with embarrassment. Why would you want to show up anyway? To say goodbye to Bill and pretend that him leaving didn’t affect you at all?

“What’s there to think about?” Fred remarked, grabbing a beer from the fridge and inching closer to your face. “Bill’ll be there, and we know how much you’d want to see him after a looooong week apart.”

Guess you weren’t the only one counting down the days.

You stared at Fred’s retreating figure and felt a wave of nausea overcome you. Maybe staying at the flat wasn’t a good idea after all. Fred and George were constant reminders of Bill—sharing his blood—and were trying not to think about him. Plus, they were so nonchalant about your feelings, acting like it was just a game. And at some point it was, but now they you knew your feelings for Bill were very real, it wasn’t a game anymore. Every joke or jest later that night was a thick needle prick to your heart and you couldn’t bear to tell them the truth.

You knew you had to get away, but just where you’d run off to was the question.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

&lt;<CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @inpraizeof @milkiane @lovesanimals0000 @alisslahey @milfodyssey @itscheybaby @lookingthroughmirrors @stiles-argent24@aki-ham @my-current-fandom-is @salvatoremuse @nimue-lady-of-the-lake @agathne @benbarnesismybaby@bangbaang @venus-d-vinyl @lexxxtacyyy @pink-hufflepuff @unicornicopia1@itsrhyann@awesomeowlbook @bamboozledflamplant @howpeculier​ @jaix-8102 @vilentia​ @sophneedsfandoms ​@dontbesuspiciousss @sugarrush-blush@actuallyade @thatgoodolswitcharoo @kakorrhaphiphobia @cigaretttes-aftersex @pandoraneverland @theluvcafe@eternally-ineffable @winterishfallinknowledge @tygecjjd

[king-of-the-rain-and-wolves]

Ty for tagging me fishy! ily!

Last song you listened to

Like other folks have said, I also have music tastes all over the place, but the song I happened to be listening to last was Curses by The Crane Wives

Currently watching

I'm currently watching One Piece!! It's super fun and goofy and also really emotionally impactful. Everyone on the straw hat crew is an idiot in their own unique way 😌❤️ They are all absolute goobers, and because/despite that I've cried while watching at least 3 times. Probably more. (and I'm only on the 6th arc/ep 43! For those who have watched - I'm just finishing up Arlong Park.)

Context for those who have not watched: me finishing the 6th arc & being on episode 43 of the anime may sound like it'd be pretty far in most shows, but one piece ~ isn't like other girls ~ I may be on episode 43, but that's out of 1,071 episodes (as of August 6th). Yes, you heard me right, over ONE THOUSAND EPISODES. Wtf Eiichiro Oda?? (← The writer) Chill!! (jk, ily)

Currently reading

Not a ton currently. Today is actually the very last day of a class I've been taking for the last couple months over the summer (the Theology of Death and Dying - cool stuff!), so I've been reading the textbook a lot (The Last Dance: Encountering Death and Dying by Lynne Ann DeSpelder & Albert Lee Strickland - also really cool stuff! I genuinely recommend checking it out, it's really fascinating stuff). I haven't read a ton other than that, but I have been able to sneak in a couple punkflower and taakitz fics on ao3 :)

Current obsession

Definitely across the spiderverse, & especially hobie, & also especially punkflower :) @weirdfishy and @jennsterjay and I have been feeding off of each other's brainrot, which is dangerous because 1) I now have an especially fucked up sleep schedule (it is currently ~3am), but 2) I also started (one of my first!) pieces of digital art based on an idea we bounced around together, and 3) I apparently have the beginnings of a fic written??? I was writing a comment on one of fishy's fics on ao3 and I looked up and realized that I had written like 600 WORDS?? By ACCIDENT?? Huh?? Anywaysss... 😂

Here's some people I already know (but haven't seen in a while so it's always nice to hear from them :)) & a couple newer friends <3

@starrylolo @where-does-it-hurt @friendlyneigborhoodnerd @morgsaborgs @bootleg-exe @jennsterjay @weirdfishy (ik you already did this but you're one of the besties now so I had to) (<3)

Nine (or so) People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

I've been tagged twice in this game, so I should probably finally go ahead and do it. First by @drivingthesehillsaway like a week ago. Sorry I didn't reply sooner! I was in the middle of something and sent it to my drafts and then forgot about it. And I was tagged again today by @stealingyourbones. Both threads had a lot of replies, so I figured I'd just make a new chain.

Rules: Answer the 4 questions and tag 9 people you'd like to know better.

Last Song You Listened To:

It's a fantastic song. Everything by this artist is amazing and I cannot recommend him enough.

Currently Watching: I'm part of the way through a rewatch of Good Omens Season 2 because holy shit.

Currently Reading: Excluding fanfic, I'm most of the way through an audiobook of Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb. I took a break to watch Good Omens, though, but I think I can go back to it. A lot of exciting things are going down.

Current Obsession: Well, it should be pretty obvious that the main one is the DPxDC crossover fandom. But there's also Good Omens. And my hands are itching to pick up my crochet hook and finish the second panel of the blanket I'm making. It doesn't take much to rekindle my obsessions for Jane Austen, Newsies, and the Bandstand Musical, either.

And 9 people I'd like to know better! I'm gonna tag people I don't talk to very often (or ever) because this is who I want to know. (No pressure, though.) In no particular order, and this in no way encapsulates all of you:

@gremlin-bot, @addie-lover-of-stories, @sangotori, @sjrose1216, @vythika96, @thederpclub, @georgelight, @foxachu, @serasvictoria02