#*weeps softly*

[1alchemistart]

holding them so gently

[musubiki]

it's been a while since i've drawn but heres some rough concept ideas for a new store-type npc to add to the roster 🎭

[saturnvs]

how rare and beautiful

[fronomeeps]

Happy Birthday, Subway Boss.

[royalarchivist]

Mariana: What's your favorite food?

Jaiden: Oh, my favorite food... uh, wait– Uh, amo las papas... fritas.*

Roier: Ohh, french fries!

Mariana: [Very excited] Oh my god, Jaiden!!! Ohhh, you speak so good, man! You're Mexican! 🥹🇲🇽

Jaiden: Oh, thank you!!!

Roier: [Laughs] Yes!

Mariana: Oh, yes Jaiden, yes! I'm gonna hit you! I'm gonna hit you! :D [He gives her a friendly punch]

Jaiden: Si! Aaa! [Laughs]

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

Mariana: What's your favorite food?

Jaiden: Oh, my favorite food... uh, wait–

Mariana: Taco Bell? Something like that?

Jaiden: Uh, amo las papas... fritas.*

Roier: Ohh, french fries!

Jaiden: Uh-huh!

Mariana: [Very excited] Oh my god, Jaiden! Ohhh, you speak so good, man! You're Mexican! 🥹🇲🇽

Jaiden: Oh, thank you!!!

Roier: [Laughs] Yes!

Mariana: Oh, yes Jaiden, yes! I'm gonna hit you! I'm gonna hit you! :D [He gives her a friendly punch]

Jaiden: Si! Aaa! [Laughs]

Mariana: Ok, you like papa fritas, the french fries.

Jaiden: Mhmm. Si!

Mariana: And- and what's your favorite restaurant? Like Popeyes, Chick-fil-A, tell me.

Jaiden: Umm...

Roier: Doña Lupita's Tacos?

Mariana: Yeah.

Roier: Yeah!

Jaiden: I dunno if you guys have it. It's called– I don't know if you have it in– uh, if it's–

Mariana: Don't worry, don't worry! We are Mexican, but not stupid.

Jaiden: It's called– I- I looked it up–

Roier: [Laughs]

* [She's trying to say "I like fries"]

[caapsart]

happiest moment of his life

[unhinged-soapbox]

Me: *goes on many dates with a dateable and kisses them passionately*

The dateable the next day: Yeah I think we make good friends.

Me: Oh hell yeah! Just like being a college sophomore again! This game has it all!

[holdmymallowsweet]

A Wisp of Affection

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC

Word count: 1,635

A chance meeting in the depth of a summer night leads to some playful banter, and an intriguing question.

Also on AO3, properly tagged

a/n: I’ve been feeling a certain way about this ghost boy lately, and then I came across Sasha Alex Sloan’s “Dancing with your Ghost” by chance and it put me in a wonderfully melancholic mood. And now that you know what to blame for this, enjoy.

There was something enticing about the Forbidden Forest at night. Laced with a prickling sense of danger, it promised adventure and glory- or perhaps notoriety, for those bold enough to venture into it. He might not have met an untimely death, if it hadn’t been for his odd fascination with the place.

Soft footsteps and rustling in the grass told him someone was approaching, and he felt her presence before he even saw her.

She found him again.

He turned his head to look at her, which always startled her a bit-

But then, where was the fun in getting his head cut off, if he couldn’t use it for comedic effect? And it always made her laugh in the end.

This time was no different, eyebrows raised in a slightly disturbed frown, corners of her lips twitching upwards, she gave him a quick huff of laughter before closing the distance between them. 

“Hello, Jackdaw.”

She strode over to him, disturbing a swarm of fireflies as she went, before she sat down.

“Hello, you. Out for a midnight stroll?”

“Always, you know me.” She flashed him another one of her playful smiles.

He returned it fondly. They both liked to pretend that she came across him by accident when they met like this, usually in the depth of night, when everything was quiet, save for the ambient sounds of the forest. He always found it romantic, although not many agreed, at least not the girls he tried to court when he was alive.

She took a deep breath of air. The fireflies illuminating her skin when they flew close and the serene look on her face made her feel like something out of a dream. More of an apparition than himself. The sight would have made his heart flutter, if he’d had one. She brushed a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear, only getting it at the second try, and he wished he could have done it for her.

He’d known they were kindred spirits when he sent her off into the cave where he met his demise. When he noticed she still had her head, the next time he saw her, he was both relieved and disappointed. He wasn’t entirely sure how tangible relationships between ghosts could be, but Merlin, he’d have liked to discover it with her, if it had come to that.

Curious, fearless, playful and teasing in a way that felt warm and endearing rather than malicious. Traits that Anne had once shared with her, before Azkaban cruelly burnt them away. Perhaps that’s why he’d briefly entertained the notion of picking up where he left off with this one.

It was quite pointless to think about, really. He wasn’t of her world, and she wasn’t from his time, not even born yet when he was alive. It was no matter, he’d never mature- mentally or physically- beyond his 17 year old self. Whatever it was that they shared on these summer nights, it was a fleeting sensation. Soon enough, she’d outgrow him, worry about employment and other adult responsibilities, perhaps remember him as a schoolgirl crush as she aged while he would be no different than he was now. Waiting around for the next lass or lad who’d indulge him, but she’d likely always be one of his favourites.

He looked up at her- which reminded him that he was still holding his head, which he promptly replaced on his neck- waiting for her to speak. In the beginning, he’d tried to woo her with tales of his adventures, but she wasn’t easily impressed. Understandable, as she had plenty of adventures of her own under her belt. Over time, he realised that it was more rewarding to enjoy the silence with her, until she’d suddenly have a thought, or a question that led to something- a jaunt through the forest or sometimes just a bit of teasing back and forth between them, but he loved it all the same. 

“How’s Anne?”

All right, not what he’d hoped for. 

“Much the same, really, but I don’t want to talk about Anne right now.” He only ever visited her in St. Mungos out of a sense of moral obligation, she only vaguely remembered him and they no longer had anything to talk about anyway. Being ultimately responsible for her fate, the guilt would forever stay with him, but he didn’t want to let it spoil the moment.

She said nothing, only measured him with those piercing eyes of hers that seemed to see right through him, in more ways than the obvious one. She’d always been the perceptive sort, had a knack for figuring out what went on in the heads of others. It could be quite unnerving, but thrilling at the same time.

“How come I never see you around the castle?” she asked, evidently content to drop her previous question.

“Why, did you miss me?”  

He’d avoided her on purpose. She had her own life in the light of day, and he didn’t want to constantly fight the temptation to invade her privacy. This was at most a dalliance, not the romance of the century, and it was better that way, considering their circumstances.

“Do you remember the deathday ballroom? I thought I’d see you there sometimes, but I never do.” 

He made a face. “Not really my preferred choice of location. Or company.”

She chuckled. “Not one for dancing, are you?”

“Did you happen to take a look at the other ghosts? Hardly anyone there who’s not old enough to be my mother. Or my grandmother.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain at least some of them died after you.”

“That’s not really how this works.”

She laughed. If only he could dance with her- 

Actually, perhaps he could. One of those stiff, boring dances that didn’t involve touching. He watched her as she pushed back that strand of hair again. It was hard to imagine her curtsying in a pretty dress anyway, she looked much better running and scrambling through the forest, with the hems of her robes frayed beyond the capabilities of even the most potent repairing charms.

“You know, speaking of dance partners…” 

“Yes?” He was perfectly willing to change his mind though, if that’s where she was going with this.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” she asked, giving him a curious look.

“I’ve done more than kissing, little fledgeling. I was quite popular with the girls in my time.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a derisive snort. “Oh? How’d that work out for you?”

He grimaced. Poorly almost seemed to be an understatement, but then neither of them had ever been as good a match for him as her. More willing and able to follow his clues and solve his riddles than Anne, more intrigued by the treasures in his thief’s den than Apollonia- she was a bit of a magpie herself, much like him. They would have been so good together.

“Why, looking to take advantage of my expertise, are you?” She had no shortage of male acquaintances she might possibly want to kiss. Personally, his galleons were on the freckled brunet- that one reminded him a bit of himself. He wasn’t sure what she would have wanted with the sarcastic, blind one, but then there was no accounting for taste, and she always was a bit unpredictable. He wouldn’t blame her either way, there could never be anything real between the two of them, and she had needs like any other person.

“Do you miss it?”

“Obviously.”

She didn’t respond immediately, staring at her outstretched legs, tapping the tips of her boots together.

“If someone kissed you… uhm, had their lips close enough to yours that you would be kissing, I suppose, do you think you could feel it?”

He took a moment to stare at her. “Of course not.” 

She turned to meet his eyes. Was he imagining the slight blush on her cheeks? It was hard to tell in the darkness. Was this going where he thought it was?

“I mean emotionally. You can clearly feel joy, and sadness-”

“Only one way to find out.” He swiftly grabbed his head again, holding it so that he was at eye level with her- if she wanted to, she could laugh, play it off as a joke.

Merlin, that startled expression was even more adorable up close, and her theory was already proven right. He couldn’t remember ever being so excited and nervous about a kiss, not even when he was alive. But there was no way he’d tell her, not while there was still a chance that she’d close the distance, and he could perhaps feel the tiniest sliver of her warmth, or get an idea of what she tasted like.

He almost couldn’t believe his luck when she leaned forward, close enough that he could count her eyelashes, only to stop a finger’s width away from his lips. 

Then she smirked. “Did you think I was going to give you my first kiss? Just like that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have to count-” he pouted.

She laughed. “If you want my kiss, you’ll have to earn it.”

“How?”

She stood up, brushing dirt off her robes. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said, flashing him a last, teasing smile before she turned around and started walking back the way she’d come.

“You’re leaving?” 

“For today.”

His mind feverishly tried to come up with something, anything, to get her to stay.

“Wait.”

She turned around, looking at him expectantly.

“How about a riddle? Just for you. In exchange for the kiss.”

Her eyes sparkled.

There was no version of forever that they could share, but on these summer nights, for a brief, fleeting moment in time, she was his.

a/n 2 : So there you go, I wrote this over the course of two glorious moody summer nights and it was so much fun. They always say ‘write what you want to read’, and this really is just something I really, really wanted at that moment, but if you liked it as well (let me know if you did) I’m happy. ❤️ This little encounter takes place after the whole Ranrok issue is resolved and Mc is just another (adventurous) student, Anne has been released from Azkaban and is living at St. Mungo’s permanent care ward, while Jackdaw is trying to settle in as one of Hogwarts’ ghosts. Also, I always imagined Jackdaw as a Slytherin (but I’m coming around to Ravenclaw!Jackdaw) and both MC and Anne as muggleborn Hufflepuffs (I just like the idea of those two being awfully similar, but with the crucial difference that Mc really is as adventurous and clever as Jackdaw expected Anne to be), but in the end none of their houses came up 😅 And finally, english isn’t my first language, so if you liked the story but you had a “she keeps using that word, I don’t think it means what she thinks it means” moment, feel free to let me know (just be nice about it) Cheers!

[the-faded-1]

I am content in the delulu that Optimus' ending speech was heard by not only the Autobots, but also Megatron.

"Do not lament my absence, for in my spark, I know that this is not the end, but merely a new beginning. Simply put, another transformation."

[neosatsuma]

can I also just say, the level of controller customization available in Clair Obscur makes me SO happy. YOU CAN CHANGE THE "SPRINT" FUNCTION FROM A HELD BUTTON TO A TAP. do u even KNOW how much more playable this makes the game for me. do u understand how many games I've had to fully abandon because the "hold to sprint" mechanic gave me crippling tendonitis by the time I was 9% through the game

SANDFALL INTERACTIVE THANK YOU FOR MY LIFE

[chanstopher]

🐺🫧240205

[croutonnet]

it's my birthdayyyyy look at thr card my boyfriend made me 😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢💖💖💖💖💖

[khayalli]

*comes skidding into your inbox with a pant and affectionate takes you by the collar and shakes you*

YOU

Do you know what you’ve done?! WELL DO YA?! Your little sketch with the boys and their cuddling has been rotating on my mind like a microwave for the pst couple months my dude. Like…it’s giving me ideas it’s so thought incredibly provoking. Especially the Donnie one. Now I’m not a Donnie stan (I appreciate him as a fellow nerdy dork) but like…that sketch got me feeling some kind of way. I don’t know if you intended this, but like…do you ever think about the intimacy of Donnie being the big spoon? Man’s a soft shell. He knows this, accepts it and even wears it with pride. He literally has an entire shell line designed to highlight and protect this so called “soft” part about him. But despite having a softer shell than his rough and tough brothers, his leathery shell still has more a defense than the simple skin and muscle that is your back. Do you think he thinks about that as he holds you, cool fingers gently tracing each notch of your spine, understanding that this simple structure was literally the center of it all? It’s holds and protects the spinal cord which is the freeway for thought that leads to that intricate delicacy that is your mind. One he never gets bored of trying to explore.

It’s the center of nerves which then allows you to move, bend, stretch, grow and even dance with him in graceful ways that he himself unfortunately can not due to the limitations of being a turtle.

This spine is what holds your ribs which protects your heart. One that he is still surprised on the daily that beats with fond thoughts towards him.

And here you lay within his arms, willingly exposing one of the most vulnerable parts about yourself to him without a single thought, a single concern. Nothing. Just blind blatant trust. Can you imagine Donnie slotting himself behind you, pulling your back flush against the protection of his plastron. His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he all but cradles you against his body, nuzzling his beak into your sweet scented hair and pressing a tender kiss to the back of your head. That’s the beautiful thing about being human he supposes, that you share that vulnerable with the rest of the world, willing or not, with little to no defenses. No battle shell. Nothing. You go out and face the world. Bare. Every. Single. Day. Well… it doesn’t have to be nothing any longer. You have Donnie now. And while he’s no Raphael when it comes to general strength, Donnie has always, ALWAYS, taken great pride in protecting what he cherishes. Not to brag or anything, but Donnie’s defense are in fact top notch and state of the art. And let’s face it, the data is adding up to the point he couldn’t even fight the statistics if he tried.

Donnie cherishes you.

And if you can be brave and vulnerable in baring your back to him…Donnie supposes he can too.

Even if it means having to expose his soft shell to the rest of the wretched cold world enable to protect you. He’d do it in a heartbeat, Donnie realizes. He’d do it for you. Do you ever think about the intimacy and the symbolism of Donnie being the big spoon?

I,

UH

Hold on-

I'm actually going to go insane hold on-

[fiddleleafedfig]

🎉Happy 1-year anniversary!!🎉

Ok so I’m not going to do a full long winded rant (ok maybe a lil).

So, one years ago, I started this blog. One year ago I was, coincidentally, also posting my first ever work on ao3.

I’ve been in this fandom for a much longer time. I’ve been in fandom spaces, at large, on and off since I was a small child. The thing is, I never interacted. I never commented, never posted, never bookmarked. I was a ghost, basically.

As I stepped back onto tumblr for the first time after several years, I found something that I desperately wanted. I found people having these incredible connections and experiences online, I saw friendships forged right in front of my eyes. Friendships built on something I could barely talk about to other people around me.

I had like six months of incredible fomo.

And then I decided that I could either commit to the fomo, realize that my fear of being perceived online is too great. OR. Or I could fucking do something about it. And so I did. And I still remember the absolute terror of sending that first vulnerable ask to @imsiriuslyreading bowing before her and her ability to shamelessly enjoy fandom and all its joys. She became my first mutual, which was absolutely crazy (since I had had envied her from afar on both TikTok and tumblr for literal months)

I started a new blog, I wrote a lil story, I challenged myself and put myself out there. I have met/interacted with the most incredible people along the way. All thanks to that choice.

I feel incredibly lucky and fulfilled for having taken that step. And thank you all so so so much for being lovliest people in my phone 🩷

Super sappy rant over.

Happy birthday to this blog 🎉✨🌈

[septemberlikeastorm]

mt friend just posted something saying "if i love you i’ll let you have power over me and that’s probably my greatest gift that i could give to you" and that's literally qimir i don't know what else to tell you

i don't know what else to tell you either buddy, you understand him too well. so well that i offer a meager gift which happens to be the greatest i can offer, a quote-corresponding snippet from cascade ocean wave blues come chapter five:

A couple days ago she’d watched him tie his hair back on either side, and only once he’d finished did she crook a finger, indicating for him to lower his head.

He’d complied, thinking—and thrilled—that she wanted to smooth his hair, and even when he realized she was unwinding one of the cords he’d still kept his head ducked for her, his only reproach a mild, “I just finished tying that.”

The reproach turned out to be even milder than intended, for her fingertips had brushed the sensitive shell of his ear, and his breath had hitched sharply, the word just a cliff that the following words had flung themselves off of.

She’d had the grace to pretend not to notice, and he’d had the grace to pretend he didn’t know she’d done it on purpose.

As a wing of his dark hair fell forward to obscure the left side of his face, she’d used the cord to tie back some of her own locs until her hair was half-up, half-down, saying impishly, “You can’t be the only one with a jaunty little hairstyle.”

[miraclemaya]

perhaps this is what a sense of spiritualism feels like. rather curious that only the cold, the moon, or homura akemi have a chance to awaken it within me. but isnt it so wonderful.