#very proud of myself/s

[fbpanimations]

“Apologies”

An OMORI fic

Summary: A sort of au where Mari and Sunny manage to talk through their feelings and the incident never happens.

Word count: 836

This is the first actual story I’ve written in quite a while, so I hope it turned out alright lol

Sunny paced nervously at the top of the staircase, violin in hand. It was the morning of a big music recital he and his sister Mari had been practicing for for months. Sunny, although trying his best, had been consistently messing up on certain parts of their song and just couldn’t seem to get it right. It didn’t help that Mari was constantly pressuring him to do better and make it “perfect”. Sunny looked down at his violin, a mix of stress, anger and frustration stirring in his mind. He began to feel overwhelmed by these emotions and threw it down the stairs in a fit of anger. Mari, likely hearing the noise, rushed over to him from their room to see what had happened, and saw the broken violin sitting at the bottom of the staircase. Earlier that day, she had seemed to have already been a bit stressed due to Sunny not being able to fix his mistakes in time, and this only amplified that. “Sunny! Why would you do that??” Hearing his own sister yell at him only made him more stressed. This was it. Everything he had been worrying so much about all these weeks was about to unfold before him. He just started muttering nonsense, trying to collect his thoughts. “How are we supposed to do the recital now??” They couldn’t. This was going to be his sister’s big moment and he had ruined it because he couldn’t just tell her how he felt. Tears started welling up in his eyes, though Mari didn’t seem to notice.

“Why won’t you just answer me??” And with that, everything came out at once. “Because you won’t stop pressuring me! Because now everyone’s gonna hate me for ruining your big day, and I can’t take it back!” He suddenly caught up to what he was saying and stood in silence for a small moment, which felt like much longer. He looked at the ground in shame as the adrenaline dissipated. “I’m such a failure.” He then felt his sister wrap her arms around him and pull him into a tight hug. “You’re not a failure, don’t ever say that.” All the anger they had felt had washed away and seemed to be replaced by something he didn’t really understand. He returned the hug, tears streaming down his face. “I just wanted you to be proud of me..” He said quietly. “I wanted to do whatever I could to be perfect for you, but I just ended up ruining everything you’d worked so hard on… I’m so sorry…” As Mari started to understand why Sunny had been so stressed, she realized he deserved an apology as well. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for putting so much pressure on you and being so selfish. I guess I wanted it to be perfect so bad, I couldn’t see that I was hurting you.” After a few moments Sunny seemed to calm down a bit and Mari pulled out of the hug, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes, her own filled with empathy. “And stop saying you ruined everything,” She said gently. “Your violin may be broken, but it’s not the end of the world. I may not have all the answers right now, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out in the end. We always do, right?” Sunny wiped the tears from his eyes and simply nodded, unable to find any words.

After a few moments of silence, they heard footsteps nearby and looked down. Basil was standing nervously at the bottom of the staircase, his hands wrapped around the ball on the railing as he stared back sympathetically. “Does this mean the recital is canceled..?” Mari sighed sadly. “I guess so.” She straightened up and looked back at Sunny. “We should tell mom and dad when they get back home, it should only be about half an hour.” She said, glancing up at the clock. She looked back at the two boys as Sunny spoke up again. “What do we do now?” Mari walked down to the bottom of the stairs and picked up the remaining pieces of the violin, staring at it sadly. “Let’s just keep this in our room for now, until we figure out what to do with it.” She said, walking back up a few steps and handing the violin to Sunny. He nodded and walked into their room. “Should we tell the others?” Mari looked back at Basil at the sound of his voice. “Yeah, I’ll call the others and try to explain what happened. If they’re even home right now, that is.” She walked into the bedroom as well and picked up the phone, dialing a few numbers in. Sunny stood next to Mari, the violin sitting on his bed. He turned his head as Basil walked into the room and stood beside him, seemingly for comfort. As they looked at each other, Sunny only got more worried. Would things really be okay from here?

[moontale-official]

IVIS' 2023 REFERENCE! Finally finished it hoh my god.

[supes9]

"I'm gonna take that promotion, I guess."

"Well, engineers have their bad days, too..."

🚨 SUMMER OF 51’s (2024) 🚨            ⮑ Day 16:  Change Your Mind

[soleileevee]

A truly prismatic pal indeed...

Yeah... no kirbtober today cuz I am tired and lazy (not surprised), BUT I will post both days 5 and 6 tomorrow

Anyway yea, have a prismatic pal Finn

[sirasketch]

*Sillies having a hangout ! The character on the right belongs to @angelpointe

*(with and without effects !!)

[rhys-ravenfeather]

Listen, sometimes in life you’ve just gotta ignore canon, and even certain headcanons/AUs you don’t like or agree with and come up with your own/a version of the thing you like. As a form of self-care. This is a moral I live by, I think anyone who knows me knows at this point.

But for all that is good and decent in the world, you still absolutely need to be respectful towards others, even if what they made does not gel with you, personally. Especially if they’re the original creator(s) of the original, canon work.

[wayfinderships]

I WILL get this assignment done and I WILL get f/o kissies as a reward!

[cabeswaterdrowned]

remembering on my circa 2017 booklr I used to tell people to read Gemma Doyle by describing it as trc but with an all girls boarding school / all girl group in a historical setting… I was trying to do the lord’s work she deserved tumblr fame

[ragingstillness]

Season two

[luminousnotmatter]

This Close

a little j.h.s. something

pairing: My favorite Texan Naval aviator, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Female...Reader? OC? She’s kind of both? I’ll explain more in the Author’s Note. 😜 warnings: Mutual pining. Yearny. Friends with feelings they’re not acknowledging. PG-level swears. Takes place in a bar that’s not The Hard Deck. There’s a Dean Martin song used.😜  word count: a little over 1k. author’s note: This is my first bit of writing shared in a good long while, and also my first bit of writing for Top Gun Maverick since that movie happened to me this year. Be gentle please I’m nervous???? 😨😱 This story is actually part of a moment I have in mind for a whole, longer, multi-parted story that’s currently simmering on the stovetop of my brain until I can figure it out more/work up the nerve to plot it out and start writing and sharing it involving Jake and a Lady OC who I’m also still developing. Hence she, ‘Birdy’ a nickname she’s referred to as once here ☺, is sort of straddling the Reader/OC line at the moment. I honestly prefer writing this way than in the second person; it’s easier for me and I find I like the way things flow and feel better, so hopefully y’all don’t mind it. Okay. I’ve officially rambled w a y too much so I’m shutting my cakehole now. 🤐 I sincerely hope it pleases you! 💕❤ bonus material: This is the song that’s playing in the bar in case you want to listen in on Jake and Birdy’s dance.  It’s not a love song really, but I love it and find there is a certain sweet, romance to it. But then again, I’m a known Sap, so form your own opinion. 😉 tagging: My Sweet B.💗 ‘cause she’s a dear, inspiring, and encouraging gem of a lady, whom I love. @bradshawsbaby​

"The sun is sinking in the west the cattle go down to the stream the redwing settles in her nest it's time for a cowboy to dream..."

With the first few lines of the song and Dean Martin's signature croon, the energy and volume in the crowded bar immediately shifts, lowering from it's previous loud, buzzing intensity to a quieter, pleasant hum. A few of the dancing couples rearrange themselves into new pairs, but most stay with their current partners.

  Jake's green eyes glow warm. His lips are still upturned in a gentler, one-sided version of his familiar wide and sunshiney smile, as his gaze sweeps around the space casually, before meeting hers.

"Shall we?" he quirks an eyebrow up. Speaks only loudly enough for her to hear. His left hand remains loosely entwined with her right, leftover from the previous, faster dance, but he's inviting her to join him for this one, not assuming she wants to. A gentleman's gesture.

And some might argue against it: but she knows, believes, has seen, that Jacob Seresin is a gentleman, in the truest sense of the word. He just....buries that part of himself, walls it up, far too often.

She tightens her grip on his hand. Let's herself notice, secretly relish, the roughness of his calloused fingers and palm. And the skipping jolt it sends to her heart. "Let's." and a smiling nod is her only response.

“Purple lights in the canyons That's where I long to be With my three good companions Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

They step in close to one another once more, less than a foot of space between them. It's not really different than what they had been doing a minute or so ago, albiet slower, but the feeling, the energy between them has changed, just as it has for the place as a whole.

  It's not necessarily an unpleasant change.

Jake's right hand holds her waist with a sort of tentative firmness, the heat of his palm bleeds through the material of her dress to her skin. His left hand has raised her right while they sway and take small steps in time with the music.

At first she looks everywhere but at her partner's face. Gaze sweeping around the room at the other couples, the lights above the bar, patrons' abandoned drinks....

She's exposed, raw, hyper-aware of the pounding of her heart against her ribs, of how hot her cheeks are, of the inherent intimacy there is in this slow closeness, and somehow it seems that if she looks in Jake's eyes it will be a tacit acknowledgement of the Truth she's currently refusing to actively acknowledge: that she likes this. Likes him. This man is her friend (becoming one of her favorite, best ones), so of course she likes him, and she is comfortable with him, as a woman and as his friend, but that Truth? What it actually means deep down? It's a damn frightening thing to look at head-on.

All these sensations and thoughts scramble through her heart and brain in milliseconds.

“Gonna hang my sombrero, On the limb of a tree Comin' home, sweetheart darlin' Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

The sound of the Naval Lieutenant humming the tune of the song near her ear draws her eyes back to him, almost against her will, but not actually. He's looking around too at first, but quickly meets her eyeline with a gentle widening of his smile.

  "You know this song?" she asks with a smile of her own; she knows this tune well but wouldn't have guessed he did. It brings an ache of fondness to her chest that he does.

"Mm-hm." he nods and grins fully with his mouth closed. His nose scrunches up once, barely perceptible but she catches it. The skin around his eyes crinkles and her chest is hurting again.

  She drops her gaze for just a moment, trying to think of something to say. The silence isn't uncomfortable, it's just that she likes the sound of his voice. Likes the way he talks to her. But when her eyes catch the sheen of sweat on his skin over the hollow of his throat, they fly back up. Immediately.

  Jake is still looking at her. His look is so very unguarded (her heart whispers the word: tender) it sends any thought of words out of her mind. His pink mouth is still smiling, but it too is a smaller, softer, a more intentional, meaningful thing.

“Whippoorwill in the willow Sings a sweet melody Ridin' to Amarillo Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

He breathes out the quietest, whispered, "Hey, Birdy."

Her throat is tight with some unexpressed, still-ignored emotion but she's able to whisper back, "Hey, Jay."

Jake gives her hand two squeezes in quick succession.

“No more cows to be ropin’ No more strays will I see Round the bend, she'll be waitin' For my rifle, my pony, and me My rifle, my pony, and me...”

Someone in the crowd calls for the song to please be played again, just once more. Their request is granted.

She swallows hard. Jake's lashes are long and his eyes are so green and the unguarded, tender look in them is still there. He is no longer smiling, just looking; his expression still soft, open.  He's not only looking at her but seeing her. The rosy, ruddy glow to his cheeks and the firmness of him beneath her hand that cups his back, all shout of the health, vitality, alive-ness of him.

It's a fight to think of other things besides her desire to lean all the way into his chest.

I wanna give up that fight.  For right now: I can give up. I give up. she thinks to herself. With a finality and resolve to which she grasps tightly.

Before anxiety and self-doubt and outright fear can question and crumble that resolve she does it.

She takes the half-step in, tucking her left hand between their two bodies up by her face and rests her cheek to his t-shirt covered chest, right below his left clavicle. She allows any tension to bleed from her shoulders, her neck, her arms, and lets him hold her.

Just for the rest of the song, she tells herself.

As he curls his right arm all the way round her back, Jake holds his next inhale at its peak for a quick extra second or two, then lets it out evenly, once she relaxes fully against him. She can't see his face of course, but he feels like even his blinking is slow, and careful. She's never been quite this close to him before now.  And he's never....he's not sure he has ever allowed himself to consider that he's wanted her to be...but his deep-down self is realizing: he has. Damn.

He shakes that realization and its implications off for the moment. It doesn't have to be dealt with right now.

  Just enjoy the rest of the song, Seresin, he tells himself. Rests his cheek gently against her head. Holds her.

They sway and take small steps, to and fro, to and fro, until the song does...eventually...unfortunately....end.

[stormbreaker-290]

Bestie, you have canonically marked malware, good going captain, very proud as your right hand man

YIPPEEYIPPEEYIPEEEYIPPEEYIPPEEYIPEEEYIPPEEYIPPEEYIPEPEEYYIPEYI

[tex-treasure-chamber]

A Love Story

In Three Acts

🦇~ ♱ ACT I ♱ ~🦇

⚔ FIRST CONTACT ⚔

🦇~ ♱ ACT II♱ ~🦇

⚔ CONVERGENCE ⚔

🦇~ ♱ ACT III ♱ ~🦇

⚔ SURRENDER ⚔

🦇~ ♱ FIN ♱ ~🦇

[hexastitchimera]

I think I understand now why I'm honest to Stars nervous every time I interact with online communities like the animation meme one, the furry one, etc.

It's for the exact reason why I'm terrified of talking to former classmates who entered nursing school.

A huge majority of the vocal minority never left behind their grade school bully mentality. I'm not kidding, throwing insults, or even calling anyone childish. This is as big of a problem as it is in nursing, and it takes lives in the exact same way. I'll explain.

Having had family who were in the medical field, I have heard utter horror stories about one side of nursing. Not even in a medical malpractice sense. But how some of them can have the sweetest, "empath" mask on when they are around you, but will smear your name behind your back at the very least, try to get you disciplined/fired (especially if you're a "rival" nurse/student) at unfortunately common worst.

Now, because I am a firm believer in nuance, I have to state that for as many malpracticing nurses there are, there are just as many nurses who put their patients before their ego always. I myself have had several nurse family members who didn't have even the slightest infraction to their records, and retired late despite how their patients AND fellow MPs yearned for them to stay.

But, it has to be said: It only takes one to kill. One word, one intentional slip-up, one accidental pill too many. The side of the accuser only need speak, while the side of the victim has to frantically fight for their right to the role- to the life- they worked so hard for.

Why? Well, because it's easier to destroy the perceived enemy than it is to build your own self up. Destroying the competition has been a tale as old as time, and it can ALWAYS be for the pettiest of reasons.

If you want more of your supervisor's attention for better odds at better pay, intimidate and belittle nurses of your standing or lower so they're demotivated, demoralized, and struggling in comparison.

Hell, if you just don't like another nurse, watch their every move, and rat on the few, harmless, honest mistakes they made!

Who cares how many patients die, either because of a growing lack of nurses, or because of straight up nurse-on-nurse sabotage!

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Do you see how people can put the grandstanding of their own ego above entire LIVES?

The near-homeless artist whose callout you are mindlessly reblogging, what of their life?

The kinky trans woman?

The genderqueer person with neopronouns and "conflicting" labels?

The literal teenager who doesn't- and CANNOT- know better because of their horrifically bigoted family? Not without external guidance, of which they can only have through the online, and are immediately shunned from?

You all want an easy answer.

There are none here.

There never will be.

The only answer is to practice media literacy, to wait until both sides have come out with their sides of the story, and to understand a very rarely spoken of Golden Rule:

If it isn't hurting anyone nor contributing to harm period, mind your own business.

Otherwise, if still hard pressed:

What do YOU get out of ending the life of someone as they know it?

If it's the same sense of satisfaction a cop would get, I don't know what to tell you.

All I know is that you cannot, AND SHOULD NOT, be doing their "job" for them.

And if you do, wipe that ACAB off of your bio.

We do not use the weapons of the oppressor on our own. ESPECIALLY on our youth.

[juniestar]

Oh my god one last thing my ex took me to outside lands and when we tried to watch lana del rey he laid down on the grass and had a “panic attack” (this was after months of him talking about how he didn’t like her) so we went to see foo fighters after a bit and he was FINE

[kyrylo-kot]

   𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞! 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞/𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜!                *:･ﾟ｡➷*❞ tagged by @aemondx                                                  *.°•*.♡ ️ッ☁✧•. • °

[cherrylight]

hi i am so sorry if ive been annoying lately or like far too much im just having a lot of fun gushing about the silly loml that is dave that i dont know what to do with myself ;-;

i knowwwww i shouldnt apologise cause its MY BLOG but i still feel like i need to apologise wahhh

im just having fun and its silly to even say this but i feel like a kid again when i gush about my f/os all the time ... its very healing :(