#why was this easier to write???

[my-various-aus]

Mikey hesitated at the entrance to Raph’s room, an overwhelming feeling of sadness coming over him.

He wrapped his arms around himself, taking a couple slow steps back, before swiftly turning around and going to his own room, curling up in his hammock.

‘Hey, you alright?’

Mikey silently shook his head.

‘It’s okay, if you don’t want to, Mikey.’

“It’s stupid,” he muttered, grabbing one of the stuffed animals hanging over his bed “I should be over it, by now.”

‘That’s not how grief works, Angelo.’

‘Listen to Donnie, little bro,’ a wave of warmth swept over Mikey, feeling like a hug ‘grief has no hard start or stop date.’

“Should I even be grieving at all?” Mikey wondered aloud “It’s not like you guys are gone gone...you’re here, with me.”

‘Mm, true,’ Donnie mused ‘however, we’re only here in a metaphysical sense; we’re literal ghosts possessing you, as opposed to physical beings you can interact with.’

‘I don’t think that’s helping, Donnie.'

‘Then you explain how his mind and body seem to have a disconnect, when it comes to the whole grieving process, Nardo.’

‘Cut it out, you two; you’re gonna make Mikey more upset.’

Mikey felt two points of contriteness in his chest, which, honestly, made him laugh, imagining the guilty faces his brothers would be making.

‘Maybe we could get April to help with repurposing our old rooms?’ Leo suggested ‘That way, Mikey’s not doing it on his own.’

“That sounds like a good idea,” Mikey agreed, pulling his phone out to text April “maybe she’ll also have an idea of what to do with them.”

‘That’s the spirit, Mikey!’

‘No, that would be us.’

‘Donnie!’

[leave-her-a-tome]

[cheswirls]

short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !

-

"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"

"I've been banned from the hospital."

"Like, for life?"

"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."

"That's oddly specific."

"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."

"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"

"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."

"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"

"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."

"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"

"Confiscated."

"Ah, right, of course."

A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"

"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

"Alright. Thank–"

"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."

"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."

"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."

"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.

Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.

Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 

"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."

Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"

"Today's Wednesday."

He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."

Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.

"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.

"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"

"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”

“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”

“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”

“Maybe??”

“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.

“Aw shit. You good bro?”

“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”

“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.

“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”

“Ouch.”

“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.

Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”

“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”

“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”

“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”

“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”

Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.

Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.

“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”

Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.

“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”

“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.

“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”

—

Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.

Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”

Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”

Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”

“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”

—

Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.

Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.

“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”

Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”

“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”

“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.

“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”

“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”

“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”

“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.

When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”

“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”

“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”

“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”

“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”

“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”

“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”

[bonchobrick]

DCxDP Fic where the Batfam gets an item/ability which allows them for just that day, to temporarily be able to what someone best accomplishment(s) were in their lives. Little do they know Danny has just settled into their city (and that they were about to get the shock of their lives)

---

At first the Batfam decides to have fun with it--theres not much titles can do to help them with cases unless theyre particularly lucky. So they take a walk together in disguises to observe the passerbyers, curious of what civillains of gotham have done in their lives.

One gruff guy who grumbles shoving Bruce's shoulder as he walks by has the title 'KITTY SAVIOR' adorned above him and the batfam are greeted by the knowledge he had saved a cat from getting hit by a car

A kid in his pteens whose been shoving pamphlets into peoples hands has 'ADVERTISEMENT SUPERSTAR' above his head as he apparently managed to save his family's resturant with his intense marketing prowess (remind Bruce to try hiring him in the future.)

And lastly they faux browse a store trying to scope out someone else interesting and are greeted by the title... 'OPENER OF PICKLE JAR' and they decide to head home as Jason nearly crying trying to muffle his laughter.

At the manor they all cant help but agree, walking has made them hungry, and theres no harm ordering a pizza or two. It's been a long, mildly interesting day, though they weren't expecting much from thing ability.

Imagine their surprise when they open the door to see a black haired blue eyed child, pizza boxes in one hand, the other hand out awaiting a drop of money–completely missing the fact the title 'DEFEATED THE MAD KING WHO HAS TORMENTED THE AFTERLIFE FOR EONS' was placed innocently above his head

"Your total is 23.11!" The fucking 'Ghost King' kid (APPARENTLY) cheerily states????

"Uh," Bruce says blankly staring at this kid's title as his mouth blurts out, "Could you give us a second?"

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I've been doing a lot of reflection as of late, especially after this past class.

This past class was about the Torah and Tanakh in general, and the way the rabbi talked about the commandments (specifically the ten commandments) has made me really reflect on how I interpret them, specifically the fifth commandment, or honoring your mother and father.

This is a commandment I have wrestled with for a long time - in fact, it brought me away from g-d at multiple times. I was severely abused when I was incredibly young by my mother, and I used to feel insulted at the implication that I were to honor her while she got to live a better life. It was hypocritical, in my eyes.

But this rabbi surmised that this particular commandment was because parenthood is an act of creation, something that is like the g-d from which we come from. My realization is this: I don't think we're necessarily meant to take even these commandments literally.

I this particular commandment is more of a call to honor creation - creation is a gift, and like any gift, many people simply will not like it and will discard it. The person who abused me created me, but she did not honor creation. She didn't honor me, but I can still honor it.

I have started to honor creation much more. I'm too young, too unstable, not mature enough to be a father (though I fantasize about it), but I create all the time. I create relationships, I create with my hands through crochet. I create memories, I create my world. And I can honor who I am and where I came from that made me who I am. I've been learning one of the mother tongues of my family (Italian, since part of my family originates there) and it was judaism that inspired me to do this.

I don't think g-d wants me to honor my abuser. I think He wants me to remember the Holy action of creation. When I am a father, that act of creation will be Holy, and indeed, I am already joyful about the thought.

I have seen many people struggle with this particular commandment, but I think this perspective helps me personally. I don't think I ever have to forgive my abusers (plural), and I don't think I am commanded to simply because they happened to be family. I am commanded to recognize the holy, to elevate the mundane. In doing so, I will remember g-d. Through creation, I honor g-d and everything he has done for us, for me, and for our collective people.

[revasserium]

i’m CRAVING a sanji fic rn 🤤🤤

maybe something on showing affection with him? cause i feel like he’s kinda superficial with his affection when first trying to get with u, but then as the relationship progresses the affection becomes so much more.

well ur in luck bc i do have a sanji fic cookin currently but who knows how long it'll take me to actually finish... in the meantime... here are some sanji domestic/affectionate!headcanons bc why not

in the beginning, it would be the grand gestures -- always waking you up with a kiss and coffee (or tea, if you're sick, or just don't feel like coffee that day) and your favorite foods; a bouquet of fresh flowers (do not ask him how he obtains these in the middle of the ocean; he will not tell you and robin remarks loftily one day that you might not like the answer)

in the beginning, he'd tell you he loves you every single hour, lest you forget for even a minute, even though it's only been like... a week and you're not entirely sure what "love" means quite yet

and then, it'd taper off, not because the 'honeymoon phase' is over, but because he'd find other ways to show you -- other ways of tellin you he loves you without telling you in so many words

there's still breakfast, but sometimes instead of coffee or tea, there's a book that you mentioned you'd been wanting to read, there's an origami crane folded out of the napkin with such excruciating care it almost breaks your heart, there's a note written in his sloppy, slanted handwriting that he dreamt of you last night and couldn't figure out if he wanted to wake up to tell you or keep sleeping not to break the fragile dream

and the "i love you"s become something else too -- they become "how did you sleep, love?" and "i knew you'd be craving that" and "c'mon, drink up -- there's more where that came from" and "tell me about your dreams" and "funny, those sound an awful lot like my dreams too".

it'd solidify, this kind of love -- his kind of love -- into something much quieter than anyone might suspect. this kind of love that simmers, the kind of love that curls around you like a hot bath, that draws you in

it's the way he always saves the wishbone whenver he cooks up any kind of bird, how he always waits till everything is done and the kitchen's all cleaned up before pulling you toward the counter, to the tiny little bone with it's winged flanges, him holding one end, the other offered out like a promise (or a wish)

you've pulled so many between you that you've lost count of how many wishes you've made, until you're laughing and complaining that you're running out of things to wish for

"what do you wish for?" you ask one day, when you've tugged and sanji gets the wish, to which he only looks at you and says, "always the same thing, actually. always... just another day with you."

[qiu-yan]

MDZS and asshole victims: thoughts on the second siege of the burial mounds scene

this post is not about morality judgments. this post is about reader sympathies only.

one rather clever rhetorical trick MDZS employs is putting all the more background "surviving victims of wei wuxian's actions" into one big angry mob at the second siege of the burial mounds, instead of letting them crop up anywhere else in the story. it's easy for a first-time reader to write off the guy who lost a leg at nightless city, or the guy whose parents died at nightless city, because both of those guys are being dicks. they're part of an angry mob baying for wei wuxian's blood--unfairly baying for wei wuxian's blood, because this time he didn't even do the thing they're saying he did. by putting these two victims into a mob of not just fellow victims but also unaffected individuals (ie. sect leader yao, who just showed up for kicks), the story can effectively equate these victims' grievances (ie. "you killed my parents") with unreasonable mob rule--even if these two things might not actually be equivalent.

the effect of this rhetorical trick, then, is that the reader can at once perceive the themes about mob mentality MXTX wishes to convey, and also effectively write off the victims' complaints. "yes, i did that to you, but i literally died already, what more do you want me to do? shall i walk on my knees repenting?" becomes easier for the reader to accept. and more importantly--wei wuxian's likability as a moral and just protagonist is not impacted.

ngl tho. it would be a bit more difficult for the reader to write off these victims' complaints if, instead of meeting said victims in an angry mob, the reader instead met these victims almost anywhere else. imagine if, instead of meeting mr. "you killed my parents" at the second siege of the burial mounds, we instead met him getting smashed at the local bar and crying about how his parents are dead. imagine if, instead of meeting mr. "you chopped off my leg" as a member of an angry mob, we instead met him begging for alms on the side of the road because his disability rendered him unable to work in a wuxia-esque setting. or imagine--if either of these background characters, overcome with survivor's guilt and trauma from nightless city, hung himself in his bedroom, and the next day his body was discovered by his 15-year-old daughter.

all of these scenarios are entirely plausible. you could easily include any of them into the story without changing the main plot at all. but suddenly shit just got a lot more depressing.

however, no such scene would ever be included in MDZS. the reason is that, as a work of fiction, MDZS's single most ardent goal is for us the readers to conclude not just that "we like wei wuxian as a character," but also that "wei wuxian is ultimately a morally righteous person." when the narrative focus shifts onto the people who were actually helped by wei wuxian's actions (mianmian and her family, lan sizhui, the few months of dignity the wen remnants were afforded) this becomes much easier for us to conclude; wei wuxian does indeed look like a hero. but the more narrative focus is given to the negative impacts of wei wuxian's actions--the more the "victims of wei wuxian" (whether actual victims or not) are given a face, instead of abstracted away by broad summaries--the more the reader might side-eye wei wuxian instead. every new victim given a name, given narrative attention that isn't just focused on making them look like an asshole, arouses the reader's sympathies in the opposite direction--and thus increases the risk that the reader might ultimately disagree with the novel's conclusion of "wei wuxian is a righteous person."

tbh, this does not seem like a risk MXTX particularly wants to take. instead, she's mastered the art of writing Asshole Victims.

which is an entirely valid writing decision, because imo basically every work of genre fiction out there does this to some extent.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[sparxyv]

Mousey Student ID 💙🐭

NOW 😏 time for Mousey's official introduction.. get ready for another huge infodump! (this one's even longer than Milena's I'm so sorry 😭😭)

Template by @kiwiplaetzchen !!! (Thank you again 😙🫶)

Family

Mousey is the youngest of four brothers. Clyde, Lachlan, and Magnus.

His three big brothers have long since moved out of the McGregor house, going on to become very successful each in their own ways. They were all sorted into Ravenclaw, and were all part of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team at some point in time.

Mousey's mother - Florence McGregor (née Prewett) - is Leander Prewett's father's sister (so Leander's aunt lol). She was sorted into Gryffindor!

Mousey's father - Fergus McGregor - was sorted into Slytherin when he attended Hogwarts. Naturally, he is very prideful and ambitious - oftentimes (accidentally) placing pressure on his sons to pursue things that are not in their interest to impact the family legacy in a meaningful way. Fergus genuinely cares for his sons, he's just unaware of the effect his words have on their psyche. 🙁

Fergus McGregor was a keeper for the Montrose Magpies for 3 years before Magnus was born, and after that he decided to settle down for good. Quidditch was his passion, and he was ecstatic when all his sons shared the same love for it.

The McGregors have resided in Irondale for generations! They have a quite small house for a large family - but fret not, it's bigger than it looks on the outside.

Mousey is 5 years younger than the brother closest in age to him - Clyde - while his three older brothers are each only about two years apart from each other. This feeds into Mousey feeling like an outcast in his own family. (Clyde - 20, Lachlan - 22, Magnus - 24)

Life Before Fifth Year

Growing up, Mousey had always been an exceptionally anxious AND impulsively loud child, so he found it was a miracle he made friends with Anne Sallow during his first week at Hogwarts. Anne was always terribly kind to him, helping him out when he needed a shoulder to lean on, giving him lots of encouragement - which he so desperately needed. Anne, being extremely mischievous, self-confident, and empathetic, she made the perfect best friend for Mousey.

Mousey wasn't exactly a permanent addition to the Sallow Twins and Ominis' little group, but they would hang out with Mousey more often than not. Up until fourth year, they were practically his only friends. (We'll get to this in a bit.. 😙)

In order to impress his father - Mousey started training on a broom as soon as he first attended Hogwarts, but his heart was only half in it. Although he was very talented with a broom, it was never a true passion of his.

Speaking of Mousey's true passion - he is deeply fascinated by wandlore/craft. Ever since he recieved his first book on wandcraft at the age of seven, he quickly became entranced by it. Mousey absorbed all the information he possibly could and constantly visited Ollivanders in Hogsmeade in his free time once he was allowed to by the school.

Sometime at the start of fourth-year Sebastian and Mousey got into a HUGE argument that quickly ended their friendship. After this argument occured, Sebastian practically banned Anne and Ominis from speaking or interacting with Mousey in any way out of sheer pettiness 😒. Mousey was heartbroken. While he would swear up and down it did not affect him, he genuinely loved Sebastian, Anne, and Ominis.. losing their friendship was difficult on him. Although, sadness quickly turned to anger and he held a big grudge against Sebastian. After the big fallout, he vowed he didn't need them - immediately going on a quest to make as many friends as possible. And ultimately, he did.. but it never felt the same.

Relationships

Like Milena, I'm planning on creating a separate series of posts going more in-depth with his relationships w/ characters - so take this list of his closest friends!

Ominis Gaunt

Anne Sallow

Milena Chase

Amit Thakkar

Everett Clopton

Andrew Larson

Samantha Dale

Duncan Hobhouse

Garreth Weasley

Leander Prewett

Eric Northcott

Poppy Sweeting

Arthur Plummly

Unnamed Students

Personality

MBTI - ENFP-T

Alignment - Chaotic Neutral

Mousey is a complicated type of extrovert. He grew up constantly fighting for attention - he learned quickly that he needed to be loud and to stand out to be seen. Mousey is the type of person to only want a few close friends, but a large circle. He loves socializing with everyone, typically coming off as very cheery and playful, yet more snarky + sarcastic with people he's more comfortable with. However, he's also very anxious. He's quite the overthinker - yet never exactly thinks ANYTHING through at the same time. He's the epitome of impulsivity.

In addition to him being anxious - Mousey cares too much of what other people think of him, especially the people he loves/looks up to. He finds himself constantly trying to impress his friends and family because he craves external validation to feel good about himself.

Mousey is very sensitive, but can oftentimes be seen as apathetic when it comes to heated moments. He's very much controlled by his emotions and feelings, which has put a strain in a lot of his relationships. Mousey feels emotions more intensely than most of his peers, his mood also being affected by the people around him. (Although when he's not blinded by his own feelings, he is actually very sweet and caring person. 😞)

If there was one word to describe Mousey - NOSY. As a Ravenclaw, he's obviously inclined to want to know as much as he can about anything. With that being said, he's a NASTY gossip. Mousey knows everything about everyone, always around and listening in the background.. 😊

Just like how it is in other parts of Mousey's life, he feels that he's an outlier in his Hogwarts House. Other than being curious and passionate about learning, he isn't as clever as other Ravenclaws - not great at riddles, oftentimes having trouble even entering the common room. So he tries his best to make the best of it, befriending his housemates, joining the quidditch team, etc.

When it comes to being active, he can make an exception for Quidditch - for his father - but other than that, he HATES physical activity. Unfortunately he's a bit on the cowardly side as well. He could be reckless and get a burst of confidence, but in general Mousey is terrified of dueling, sharp things, large creatures, and especially cats. You wouldn't usually catch him out in the Forbidden Forest, or in any of the hamlets far from Irondale.

Additional Fun Facts!

The only people who don't refer to him as 'Mousey' would be Ominis, Imelda, and Milena - all for different reasons.

Mousey actually likes his nickname, not minding it one bit - although, he doesn't remember how he got it.. but even the teachers have called him Mousey since his first year.

He used to have very prominent buck teeth up until he was 13, having them magically fixed (by Anne Sallow) after his big brother Clyde had made fun of them.

Mousey is the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and Keeper in sixth-year! 💙

Other than Sebastian, his nemesis at Hogwarts is Charlotte Morrison (whom Milena actually made friends with???). She just really irritates him in a way he can't describe. The feeling is mutual.

He is very close with a lot of the teachers, most notably Professor Fig and Professor Garlick.

Mousey makes wood-carving animals representing the people he loves, and keeps them in his dorm. (Some would be: Ominis - Bat, Anne - Fox, Sebastian - Snake, and the newest addition.. Milena - Eagle 💜 I like to imagine Mousey came to terms with his and Milena's friendship at one point and secretly made her little animal to keep 🥹) No one knows the meanings behind the animals but him. They are his to keep and to protect.

Bi icon 💙💜🩷

Had a crush on Adelaide Oakes in third-year. (his type is blondes I guess?)

Was nearly sorted into Slytherin, but the hat changed it's mind at the last second.

Raphael is the only feline that tolerates Mousey. (And vice versa)

Knows about the Undercroft.

[pa-pa-plasma]

I know the concept of more supernatural/paranormal elements is cool but it will never stop being funny to me that in every series ever, when a ghost shows up the main characters have to do rituals & research the history of the haunted item or house or even whole town & use specific items like salt & incense & talisman to banish the ghost all dramatically & supernaturally, but in Danny Phantom this kid just shows up with nothing but his fists, a thermos, & pent up aggression. put em the fuck UP, you ectoplasmic son of a—

[likesdoodling]

Guess what I just finished ehehehe >:D

Oh yeah- the 'I see your wife' was a bit hard to do so I just replaced it with the next best 'murderer plus innocence' parallel I could think of-

(and the tags I got to cover the last few bits got cut off, so I have decided to include the last minute of dramatic commentary here instead-

:(:( Alas alack~ poor Finrod-

Oh look it's Gondolin! And Maeglin too, fancy that. Wonder why he's there, anyway, moving on-

Fingon gets some more screentime, -and no. I am not naming the Balrogs involved. They don't deserve it >:(

And after that it's pretty self explanatory.

I mean.

If you know who Feanor and his sons are you probably get what's going on here. :'(

>:)

[kevindavidday]

hm. kevin day, jean moreau and andrew minyard i will put in situations where the inevitable outcome is healing and happiness like. from the start i will give them a journey full of wonder. neil josten? i put him in the blender

[five-and-dimes]

Sleeping Beauty-esque au where Dream wants to Stop Living but doesn’t want to go through making someone be his replacement (being Dream of the Endless is so hard, how cruel would it be to subject that role to someone else?) and it occurs to him that he is the Dreaming and the Dreaming is him so what if he just… took one of those out of the equation? As long as there is a Dreaming then technically there is a Dream even if he’s not human-shaped anymore and so one day he goes into one of the gardens and he lays down and closes his eyes and lets Dream the Person sink into Dream the Place. 

Matthew comes looking for him and gets lost because his magic-raven-senses, which are supposed to always know where Dream is, are telling him he’s everywhere?? And finally he stumbles upon a body, still breathing but with moss and ivy and briars slowly growing around him, a living body being reclaimed by nature and Matther naturally freaks the fuck out, clawing at the plants and pecking at Dream’s hands and pulling his hair to try to wake him but all it does is make the ivy grow faster and he’s pushed back by a gust of wind that feels like a sigh. 

Cursing as loud as a raven is capable of, he books it back to Lucienne, and it takes a few minutes for her to make sense of his panicked cawing but then she is dropping the book in her hands and rushing to call anyone she can think of, which includes both the rest of the Endless and also one particular immortal human because that’s how desperate she feels. 

And then it’s a line of people taking turns sitting next to Dream the Body, gently pushing back the greenery around him, some of them sobbing when they see how the plants are starting to grow through him, and the body is still breathing but it’s decomposing, sinking deeper into the landscape, and it’s hard to tell but they think Fiddler’s Green is crying, pleading with the Dreaming itself to walk on two legs again. 

I think eventually Hob, who has been coming and speaking every night in his sleep, trying to bribe and barter and goad his friend to come back to them, finally snaps when he comes and sees Dream’s body completely covered by moss and vines, looking for all the world like just an uneven patch of field, and he thrusts his hands into the earth and physically tears Dream out, standing and dragging him away from the plants that reach to take him back, and he starts sobbing and screaming about how Dream isn’t getting rid of him that easily, Hob is immortal by stubbornness alone, if Dream thinks he won’t fall in love with a goddamn patch of grass he’s got another thing coming, he wants Dream to walk with him and live with him, but if he has to marry Dream the Place then that’s what he’ll do, he will make the realm itself his husband and spend eternity nurturing it, give whole new meaning to the term “husbandry”. And the ivy is crawling up Dream’s body, trying to pull him out of Hob’s arms, but before it can cover Dream’s face Hob is kissing him for all he’s worth. 

And then the ivy slows, and the wind seems to shudder, and the land is still but Hob thinks he feels a separating within it, like the red sea parting beneath a blessed hand, and it takes a moment, because so much of Dream has spread like roots throughout the Dreaming and it’s hard in so many different ways to pull it all back into himself, but Hob holds him through it, peppering his face with kisses as the earth falls away from his withered body and being a person again hurts, but Hob’s love soothes it like a balm. 

And then he awakens, opening his eyes for the first time in months, cradled in Hob’s arms, with soft memories of everyone who had tried to bring him back because they wanted him back, and he is still so tired, but. But maybe, he thinks, being awake, being here, is not so bad if there is someone to hold him like this.

Hob kisses him again.

[isbergillustration]

Worst thing about making tattoo artist characters is you have to make so many tattoos for them.

[verdantcreek]

thinking about the reboot mw games collectively and it’s so sadly unfortunate because like. when put up against the other two, mwiii fails so visibly.

first of all you’ve got their thesis/emotional core, right. for mw19, it’s all about the personal motivation of being a solider, the cost of war on an individual. what it means to fight and discovering the importance of what you’re fighting for. for mwii, it’s about trust. the importance of knowing that your team has each others backs, the weight that it has between individuals. what happens when that trust is broken and how it’s found again through vulnerability, because that’s how you truly know you’re there for each other.

and then there’s mwiii..? you should let your sergeant kill a prisoner illegally so said prisoner, when he breaks out of maximum security prison, doesn’t kill your sergeant 4 years later? you should illegally kill people who piss you off (shepherd)? sure there’s the whole “never bury your enemies alive”, but where does that come in to play outside of the soap/makarov interaction? it’s definitely not a valid reason for price to kill an american general in his own office. they could’ve used it for graves if they wanted to take it a step further, but no— graves doesn’t betray the team again, for whatever reason. we’re expected to consider him just a much a member of the team as anyone else, and the narrative treats him as such outside of a few bristly reactions to his involvement.

secondly i take a huge issue with how characters were handled in mwiii. literally everyone is here, and there is no reason for several of them to be. alex felt like a cameo— you see him actually on screen for maybe 30 seconds. farah’s missions feel forced for the sake of her involvement. not that farah shouldn’t be in this game, but makarov’s flimsy reasoning for targeting the ulf is so clearly an excuse to involve her. it feels very random and transparent as a decision to reuse her character because she’s familiar. again with graves— why is he here? i still genuinely do not understand why they decided to retcon his death. it was a perfect arc for mwii to kill him, and him being alive adds absolutely nothing to the story. he has nothing to do in mwiii and there is zero reason for his involvement other than “people liked him in mwii and he has a cool accent.”

within the 141, it’s mostly rehashing of the growth/personality that each of them showed in previous games. none of them have an arc, except maybe price if you’re willing to call the *post credit scene* where he commits cold blooded murder a completion of an arc. gaz, soap, and ghost are static versions of themselves that simply are just … there for most of the plot. they’re not out of character or ruined, but none of them individually have anything going on that can’t be tied back to price.

i think a lot of it comes down to the way they tried to shoehorn mwiii into the original trilogy’s storyline. people loved those games, and nostalgia sells. i don’t think it’s a coincidence that makarov was a big marketing factor for this game— and that’s not to say that mw19 or mwii didn’t abuse that either, but in execution you can feel the difference. price, gaz, soap and ghost are all their own characters miles away from their original trilogy counterparts. makarov… isn’t. he’s a poorly written villain riding on the success of the original trilogy— he’s scary because he’s *makarov*, not because he’s a real threat. it’s cheap. the knockoff “no russian” mission felt insulting. it’s a callback with no real impact in the story, just simply “look! remember when we did this in 2009 and everyone loved it?”

and all of it culminates into a shit ending with shock factor that it tries to make you feel emotional. i’m not sad over this character death. i’m mad, because it’s unearned and lazy. i realize it’s a lot to ask a multi-billion dollar corporation to actually put effort into their stories, but… it’s such a let down when the previous games actually had at least an ounce of passion. i’m just still so disappointed with this game ruining what could’ve been a really interesting and unique story.

[girlfromthecrypt]

Sharing sth from real life: I have now been officially diagnosed with sth that makes many things in life make way more sense to me. Even though I suspected it for a long time, knowing it for sure is an intense relief somehow. (Ok I don't know why I wrote "sth" instead of the word itself; only it still feels forbidden somehow? My feelings are so weirdly complicated rn. Bear with me. You know what I mean anyhow)

This relates somewhat to my writing of Flo. Even though his struggles have always been (loosely, but not insignificantly) based on my own experiences, I've often felt like an impostor when writing him somehow. Now... well, I still do bc these things don't disappear overnight, but not as much as before. Not by a long stretch.

I'm strangely happy and more at ease with myself than I have been in a long time. I'm sure quite a few of you are able to relate? I don't know. I'm sharing for the sake of sharing rn, bc even though I can't really describe how I'm feeling about this, I'm definitely feeling some way and it's good but also pretty new. Yeah.