#vanilla raspberry school

[imjustafangirl3]

Anyone remember my Vanilla raspberry AU school thing? No because I basically don't have a following? Well stfu I'ma ramble

A LOT of decor updates have happened and I have just WAYYY more room then I know what to do with so I got to recognize how my little school is set up and here's some screenshots of the kingdom

This is just a general look at what I've changed. Yea being able to put production buildings out of sight and still have them work is fucken NICE

AS FOR MY VANILLA RASPBERRY SCHOOL more screenshots

I've added a grade school area, something I've wanted since I came up with Vanilla raspberry but didn't have the room

Outdoor teaching areas with Eclair, Espresso, and Latte, plus a magical trap door to go to the observatory and back quickly

This isn't part of the school like at all, but I moved the bar because I kinda realize how strange it is to have a BAR next to a SCHOOL

Smaller Choco badlands but I imagine that the events in Vanilla raspberry take place after the war with Dark enchantress happens sooo

Bonus my cookie

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

I am so fucking pumped to have two of my favorite hand gels from high school (2003-2007) again! And they still smell good, idk how bc most of my hand gel collection smells like alcohol, but these smell just like they did way back when!

Bath and Body Works Juniper Breeze and Black Raspberry Vanilla Anti Bacterial Deep Cleansing Hand Gels

Juniper Breeze: 2002

Black Raspberry Vanilla: 2004

My personal picture of my collection

[remushrts]

✶ BAKED GOODS / poly!marauders.

— pairing: poly!marauders x reader

— a/n: i did get carried away with this one but it was so fun to write!! i do not mean to set a precedent on poly!marauders and culinary tales, i just love the chaotic dynamic of them in the kitchen i fear

— summary: based on the prompt: ♡ the character realizes how head over heels in love they are when their s/o took over their whole kitchen in a panic bake.

Sirius swears he's trying to be nice. Keyword, trying.

But can he really blame himself when he came home late from another horrible, horrible meeting, more than exhausted, to find your whole house smelling like muffins? And not only a batch or two, he swore the house was to be stacked with piles upon piles of baked goods at this point.

Was he really, really to blame, that he swoon the moment he saw you cursing under your breath as you spilled vanilla essence all over the counter?

"Hi, sweetie." Sirius grins deliberately, placing a kiss on your cheek. He swears you even taste sweet. "What's with the psycho cooking spree at midnight? Not that I'm one to complain." He added, running his finger along the edge of your bowl and taking it to his lips to taste the batter.

You sigh before answering, and Sirius thinks you're even more adorable, if that's even possible. "Your cousin called, Nymphadora has one of those school events tomorrow. We're helping her up a bit."

"Well, are you trying to feed the entire school?" He gestures to the three batches cooling on the counter, plus the one in the oven. "And who's we, darling? Have you started to hallucinate? Should we run with you to the ER?"

You let out a dry laugh in response, shoving his arm playfully. Sirius doesn't budge, if anything, he locks his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "I am not trying to feed the entire school, some of these are ours. Orange cinnamon for Jamie, double chocolate for Remus, peanut butter for you, and raspberry for Andy and Ted, but..." You don't have time to finish your sentence as the timer of your oven goes off, and Sirius smacks a kiss against your cheek before you can move.

"Let me get those." He offers, placing another kiss on the corner of your lips before he lets you go and picks up a pair of oven gloves disposed on the counter. He picks them up carefully, more than you would have given him credit for. "And where are those animals, huh? Letting my sweetheart do the entire job alone."

You roll your eyes, picking one of the muffin tins — though to Sirius, god knows how you can keep track of which one of them is still burning hot, and which is just warm to touch without burning your fingers off — and taking the perfectly shaped muffins out of it. He watches as you line up new paper cups and pour the new batter he hadn't even seen before, although he can assume they are the orange ones from the heavenly smell.

"You didn't let me finish, you sod." You say, but your tone packs none of the bite, his grin grows wider across his face.

"Sorry, sweetie, please finish." He offers you, trying to pick one of the freshly baked muffins. You swatch his hand away.

"Don't eat those, you'll burn your tongue. And, to your knowledge, Remus went to buy more paper cups and blueberries because certain someones keep trying to catch them in the air everytime we have them." You explain.

"Oi! That's unfair, we did went to get them, you know?" You hear James' voice echo around the house just a second later the front door clicks open. You kind of pity your neighbours for the noise he's making, but a little less as he greets you with a kiss on the lips. "Hi, my love. Has this gentleman been troubling you?"

You see Sirius feigns offense at the corner of your eyes, pressing your lips to suppress a smile. "Yeah, yeah, your sins are atoned for, Jamie. But his are not." You point out to your other boyfriend.

"Oh, I think I've atoned for my sins just fine!" Sirius tries to defend himself, an exasperated glance at you and James. "Moony, I'm being set up here!"

His gaze only seems to soften as Remus enters the room, you turn to see another two dozens of star-lined paper cups on his hands. You know James had made him park at the store by the look on his face, despite the small errand not meaning to take more than ten minutes, tops. The frown that creases your boyfriend's eyebrows don't make him any less handsome.

"What has he done now?" Remus inquiries with a raised brown.

"Nothing!"

"Eaten all the blueberries." You and James answer at the same time. "Sorry, eaten half the blueberries. The other half was dropped to the floor." You correct.

"Sacrificed!" Sirius corrects once again. "And I could eat them off the floor if Moony wasn't such a goody two-shoes."

"Court finds you guilty, sorry. And you're not eating off the floor, Pads." Remus interrupts before any of you can. James seems rather amused at the situation, watching you bicker and discreetly eating off the bag of frozen mixed berries when none of you are looking. You catch him by the corner of your eye, resting your back at the counter at slowly reaching for one too.

Sirius is, to say the least, scandalised. "So they get to eat them?"

Remus only shrugs, you pick a couple berries in a hand and offers him too. James gives him a complicit look, but he doesn't look half as guilty, lips tinted by the blackberries as are the tips of his fingers. He leans to kiss Sirius.

"Désolé, amor." He says, pressing the words sweetly against his lips. Sirius maybe, just maybe, swoons again at the way his accent carries the vowels with such flowy grace. It's unfair of James, and the smile that comes after tells him that he knows it.

"Désolé my fucking ass! Bloody traitor!" He pretends to push James away towards you, but he spins on his heels like a fucking pro, locking you between his body and the counter with a smug grin. You have none of it, clapping your hands loudly and making a cloud of flour dust the room, and your boyfriend's poor lovely face.

"Alright, everybody out of my kitchen unless you're helping!" You say loudly, all the pompous of a professional chef in one of those reality shows you always watch with the boys.

"Yes, chef!" James answers, smile turning enthusiastic as his lips curl up.

"Yes, chef..." Remus follows, already putting himself at work and opening the paper cups on the counter. You look at Sirius, maybe too cocky to expect an answer, but you let yourself have the small power trip.

Sirius smiles widely, the genuine amusement that makes one lovely dimple appear at his cheeks. "Oui, chef."

It's good enough for you. You swoon for him too.

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (Here) |...

Masterlist

Blog Navigation

Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Cafe Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, NPC's, Venti, Nahida

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. There is a taglist if you want to be tagged.

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Mika, your part-time high school helper, scuttled between tables with three plates of lemon tarts perched precariously along her forearms while the bell above the café door sang its familiar chime. You watched from behind the counter, suppressing a grin behind your coffee-stained apron as she negotiated the crushed floor with all the finesse of a tightrope walker. Over the past two weeks, your once quiet café has changed into something alive, bursting now with the clash of silverware and the hiss of the espresso machine, as well as the warm hum of conversation hanging in the air even after closing time.

Mika had been a godsend. Quiet but sharp-eyed, she'd taken to the rhythm of service like she'd been born for it. Just this morning, she'd caught a customer's spilled latte mid-air without breaking stride.

"Table six needs their check," she murmured as she glided past you, now reaching for the dessert menus. "And the gentleman by the window asked if we could refill the lavender cold brew."

"You'll say yes to him, but only because he said something nice about Lena's macarons," I said as I jotted it down. "And by the way, slip him one of the test batches of her passion fruit ganache-discreetly." 

Mika's lips quirked. "Bribery as a business strategy. Noted."

You looked at her smugly and giggled before signalling her to return to her work.

- 

The kitchen doors groaned open and a billow of steam clouded with vanilla came pouring out as Lena carried her tray of perfect éclairs. Hands that moved like a composer-especially every motion being precise, and every garnish placed in intentional elegance-were the magic of this girl, former pâtissier to Le Ciel Blanc. The first time she brought to you a fraisier cake, more perfect than a photoshopped one, you almost kissed her.

"Taste," she demanded again, thrusting a spoonful of silky chocolate toward your face. "The new single-origin blend. Is the acidity too forward?"

You let the ganache melt on your tongue, thinking. "It's bright, but the hazelnut praline balances it. Joon's going to go crazy over this."

And that word summoned Joon to burst through the kitchen doors, his chef's jacket bathed with what seemed to be raspberry coulis. "We need to talk about the sourdough schedule," he announced, waving a clipboard. "The starter's doubling faster since I moved it near the oven. If we adjust proofing times-"

You raised a hand. "Breathe, firecracker."

Joon had reconstructed your entire kitchen within forty-eight hours of being hired. Freshly graduated from culinary school, he had enough raw talent without much common sense. When you had asked him why he chose your café over the Michelin-starred establishments that fought over him, he just grinned and said, "Because you talked to your sourdough starter like it was your emotional support animal. I knew this was where all the real magic happened." 

Now, with the three of them settling into their roles, you finally had time to breathe. 

Which meant that now you could bring your attention back to that door.

-

Mika hummed as she mopped the café now quiet without the last customer present. The sound blended well with the jazz record you'd left spinning on the old turntable.

"Are you sure you wouldn't want me to help close up?" she quipped, hanging up her apron with military precision.

You shook your head. "Go study for your chem test. And take these." You shoved a box of leftover madeleines into her backpack.

Mika simply rolled her eyes. "You're worse than my abuela. See you tomorrow, boss."

At that moment she slammed the door behind her, and the air in the café shifted—like the space between heartbeats. You turned slowly.

There, nestled between flour sacks where it had no right to be, was the door.

Ordinary in every way except how it wasn't. The wood grain shimmered if you stared too long, and sometimes—when the café was empty and the moon was high—you swore you heard singing from the other side.

You exhaled, rolling up your sleeves.

Okay. It is time for another experiment.

--

Experiment #1: The Witness Test

Mrs. Khatri, your regular patron most patient, was sipping her masala chai with polite curiosity while pretending you are reorganizing the storage shelves. You had been brewing tea, talking about her granddaughter's ballet recital, and keeping an eye on the door for two hours.

"Are you expecting any delivery?" she asked as you turned to the door for the seventeenth time.

You nearly spilled a jar of cinnamon. "Just... waiting on a specialty tea order." 

The door looks like it doesn't want to open; it didn't want to have a single crease somewhere in it. 

The moment Mrs. Khatri cleared out with her parting "The cardamom was perfect today, dear," did the brass knob warm up under your fingertips as a sleeping creature that stirs under the absence of its owner.

So. No witnesses. Copy that.

–

Experiment #7: Teyvat's Objects on Earth

The Mora gleamed innocently on your ledger, its golden surface catching the warm lighting of the café. You learned quickly that not all could survive from the other side and continue living in this world, though.

Mist Flowers disintegrated into puddles of sad water. Valberries wilted overnight. But the Mora—the Mora was different.

The jeweler's loupe did tremble in his hand when you brought it to him: "This shouldn't exist," he'd whispered, turning it around. "This metallurgy is impossible—this purity of gold with this level of detail? And the markings..." His eyes snapped to yours. "Where did you really get this from?"

You'd lied smoothly. "A family heirloom." Wow, you really know how to lie between your teeth, huh?

Still, his offer of $2,300 made your palms sweat. 

Note: If Paimon ever finds out I'm sitting on a goldmine, I'm dead.

–

You were making some notes when the freaking door opened on its own.

Your pen froze mid-word.

Wind rushed in, not that stale city air you knew, but something wild and green, smelling of dandelions and distant thunderstorms. And then Venti tumbled through, catching himself hard against the counter.

He wasn't drunk, which was shocking.

The second was the blood matting his hair, the way his fingers trembled around his lyre like it was the only thing tethering him to this world.

"You," he hissed, teal eyes flashing with something ancient and dangerous. "What game are you playing?"

You raised your hands slowly. "No game. This is just my café."

His gaze darted around-the industrial espresso machine, the chalkboard menu, and the glass case displaying Lena's pastries. His nose wrinkled. "It smells like... burned sugar and regret."

"Caramel and ambition," you corrected, then winced. "And you're bleeding on my mahogany." You nudged the first-aid kit toward him.

"Who sent you?" Venti didn't move.

"No one." You kept your voice steady. "That door sometimes connects to other worlds. You're the second to come through."

"Second?" His grip on the lyre tightened.

"The Traveler and Paimon."

Something in his posture eased-just a fraction. "Hah. Should've known those two would find the universe's backdoor." 

-

The antiseptic stung your own hands as you dabbed at his temple. Venti flinched but didn't pull away, his breath warm against your wrist. 

"Stormterror?" you guessed. 

His laugh was brittle. "Among other things." A pause. "You know much for a... what are you, exactly?" 

"Café owner." You pressed the bandage gently. "Part-time interdimensional tour guide." 

Venti snorted, then winced. You slid a mug of cocoa toward him-no alcohol this time. He sniffed it like a suspicious cat before taking a cautious sip. His eyebrows shot up. "Oh. That's... not terrible." 

"It grows on you," you said. "Like moss." 

"Or a fungal infection," he shot back, but the edge in his voice had dulled. 

Outside, rain tapped against the windows like impatient fingers. Venti's hands strayed to his lyre, plucking a melody that made your chest ache-something older than nations, older than gods. 

You pretended not to notice when his playing faltered. 

By the third cocoa refill, Venti had migrated from "hostile intruder" to "annoying housecat," draped across your best booth with his boots on the upholstery. 

"Sooo," he drawled, spinning his empty mug. "This 'café' of yours. You just... feed interdimensional travelers?" 

"Mostly locals," you said, scrubbing an already-clean counter. "You're a special case." 

"Aw, I'm touched!" He grinned, but his eyes stayed wary. "And what do you get out of it?" 

You shrugged. "Good company." 

Venti's smile faltered. For a heartbeat, he looked lost-then he strummed a chord sharp enough to make your glassware vibrate. "Liar." 

You froze.

"Everyone wants something," he murmured, "the Traveler wants to find their sibling." He looked at the archons through narrowed eyes. "Whatever gods seek." His eyes pinned you. "What do you seek?"

The truth clawed at your throat - I just didn't want to be alone - but you swallowed it down. "A five-star Yelp review?"

Venti blinked. Then he laughed, genuine this time, the sound bright as sunlight through stained glass. "Fair enough. Though, what is a Yelp review?"

Soon enough he left.

You looked at the door blankly and took out a ledger.

-

"I'll put that on his tab." You scoffed. The first mug of cocoa you slid to him was just a welcome gift and free, not including his constant refilling.

Three days later, you nearly dropped the tray of éclairs when walking into the pre-dawn quiet café to find Nahida perched on a barstool and swinging her legs. 

"Oh!" She brightened, hopping down. "You're the door's keeper!"

You choked on air. "How-"

"The door told me," she said now, as if there were nothing extraordinary about it. At your shocked silence, she tilted her head, "Not in words, of course. More like... a feeling." Her tiny hands cupped the Cecilia flower Venti had left behind, its petals glowing faintly under her touch. "This remembers you."

"Remembers?" you echoed weakly.

Nahida hummed, those eyes of hers far too knowing for someone who looked like a child. "Memories stick to objects, places, even people." She leaned forward, whisper-soft. "Some of yours smell like us."

Your blood turned to ice.

But Nahida just smiled, sliding off the stool. "Don't worry. I'm just not going to pry." She pressed a crisp recipe card into your hands, Moon Pie, the words flowing with calligraphy. "For when you're ready."

Then she was gone, the door clicking behind her.

The Cecilia pulsed once, twice,

and burst into full bloom.

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Sorry bout the constant "-" throughout the story. Was kinda having a hard time transitioning but like yes. We ignore that hahahhaha....

Taglist:

@kameyo-kumo @esthelily @haru-tofuu @udretlnea @shining-nebula2000 @ifeellikejumpingoffacliff @resident-cryptid @allblognamesaretakenlikereally @leilakaro @stvrbrighttt @chericia @evaline-ethan @ra404 @mmmhyperfixation @original-person @chaoticfivesworld @lexal-amber-rose @floofeh-purpi @time-shardz @animeobsessed56 @fantasyhopperhea @yuan1819

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: On Colour

Describing Colour in your Poetry and Stories

BLACK Shadow Black, Dusk, Midnight, Blackbird, Blackberry, Ebony, Black Honey, Darkness, Jet Black, Ink Black, Soot, Onyx, Licorice, Ivory Black, Pitch, Char, Gloom, Outer Space, Creosote Black, Melanite, Goth Black, Gunpowder

BLUE Blueberry, Sapphire Blue Metallic, Tiffany Blue (Pantone 1837), Cobalt Blue, Denim, Aquamarine, Turquoise, Sky Blue, Topaz, Ultramarine Blue, Azure, Cerulean, Oxford Blue, Periwinkle, Electric Blue, Baby Boy Blue, Pthalo Blue, Robin's Egg Blue, Persian Blue, Marino Blue, Prussian Blue

GREEN Leafy Green, Olive, Moss Green, Jade, Lime, Sour Apple Green, Emerald Green, Mint, Kiwi Green, Phthalo Green, Praying Mantis Green, Viridian, Greenback, Shamrock, Sap Green, Chartreuse, Sea Green, Pistachio, Teal, Bamboo, Sea Salt, Celadon Green, Celery, Asparagus Green, Fern Green, Neon Green, Jungle Green, Pear Green

ORANGE Pumpkin, Burnt Orange, Carrot, Sunset Orange, Tangerine, Persimmon, Salamander, Tennessee Orange (Pantone 151), Jack-o'-lantern Orange, Florida Orange, Summer Squash, Pale Daffodil, Smashed Pumpkin, Saffron, Autumn Orange, Macaroni and Cheese, Cadmium Orange

PINK Pink Flamingo, Neon Pink, Bubblegum Pink, Salmon, Peach, Fuscia, Cotton Candy Pink, Rose, Carnation, Thulian, Apricot, Atomic Pink, Barbie Pink, Hot Pink, Amaranth, Flushed, Glitter Pink

PURPLE Lavender, Purple Haze, Grape, Eggplant Purple, Plum, Violet, Orchid, Psychedelic Purple, Amethyst, Lilac, Boysenberry, Mulberry, Wisteria, Bruised Plum, Indigo, Mauve

RED Blood Red, Copper, Maroon, Strawberry, Watermelon Red, Crimson, Candy Apple Red, Tomato, Brick Red, Scarlet, Cardinal Red, Cherry, Ruby Red, Coral, Sunburn, Hot Lava, Cadmium Red, Auburn, Blush, Alizarin Crimson, Fire Engine Red, Raspberry, Vermillion, Lipstick, Burgundy, Magenta, English Vermilion, Mahogany

WHITE Dirty White, Albino, Chalk, Alabaster, Cotton, Titanium White, Vanilla, Bone White Egg Shell, Marshmallow, Ivory, Pearl White, Almond, Champagne, Blond, Cream, Milky White, Corn Silk, Bleach, Navajo White, Ghost White, Light, Cloud White

YELLOW Canary Yellow, Lemon, Banana, Egg Yolk Yellow, Mellow Yellow, Chanterelle, Mustard Yellow, Corn, Goldenrod, Amber, Pineapple, Metallic Gold, Cadmium Yellow, Wheat, Tuscan Sun, Butter, School Bus Yellow, Yellow Ochre, Citron, Dandelion

BROWN Mud Brown, Beaver, Caramel, Rust, Macaroon, Toasty Brown, Coffee, Sandy Tan, Cocoa, Honey, Chocolate, Burnt Sienna, Mocha, Seashell, Antique Brass, Bronze, Brown Sugar, Chestnut Brown, Taupe, Burnt Umber, Khaki, Dark Sienna, Light Chocolate, Sepia

GRAY Stone Gray, Ash, Metallic Silver, Platinum, Smoke, Concrete Gray, Mercury, Steel Gray, Mist, Titanium, Charcoal, Slate, Sterling Silver, Tungsten, Old Coin Gray, Iron Gray, Chrome, Magnesium, Overcast

MIXED Candy Cane (red and white), Zebra (black and white), Chameleon (many different colours), Ladybug (black and red), Wildfire (yellow, orange and red), Tiger (orange, black and white), Yellow Jacket (black and yellow), Christmas Lights (red, white and green), Rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet), Black Pepper (black and gray), Leopard (spotted gold and black), Creamsicle (orange and white), Candy Corn (orange and white), Iceberg (a bluish gray), Marbled

COLOURS: Symbolisms, Associations & Psychological Effects

Black. Especially in Gothic literature from the West, a black colour choice often represents death, evil, grief, and depression. Associated with fear, the unknown and often has a negative connotation. Black clothes can make you look thinner. A black background severely diminishes the readability of most type. Often the go to colour for funerals and grieving. It symbolizes stability and power, which gives a sense of authority. Thus, the black colour often represents professionalism and expertise.

Blue. Has positive and negative connotations in colour psychology. Some writers may use blue to represent serenity and tranquility, instilling a scene with a calming effect. Blue can also signify sadness, melancholy, or isolation. People who find someone very loyal and faithful are often called "true blue". Blue is often considered to be more masculine which is why it is often the colour of choice when choosing a suit. Lighter blues are associated with tranquility, softness and healing. Darker blues are associated with power, knowledge and seriousness. Blue is actually shown to suppress appetites a bit. The colour blue symbolizes wisdom and hope. It’s the colour of peace and confidence. Blue has been shown to reduce blood pressure and pulse rate. It fosters serenity and a sense of belonging.

Green. The colour green often symbolizes rebirth, growth, peace, jealousy, and greed. Green colours may also represent spring and renewal. It is a colour that is very easy on the eyes. Dark green is often associated with ambition. Green suggests stability, safety and hope. At the same time, it may denote a lack of experience in a particular field. Green symbolizes peace, growth, and nature. It is the colour of success, promoting healing and tranquility.

Orange. The colour orange often represents energy, excitement, joy, and creativity. Since orange is the colour of fire, it may also symbolize heat. Since orange is not as aggressive as red, it can actually stimulate brain activity. It is very useful to catch someone's attention, which is why it's used a lot to advertise food and toys.

Pink. The colour pink symbolizes love, kindness, femininity, innocence, and playfulness. Certain shades of pink can limit aggression. Pink may be associated with unconditional love and caring.

Purple. Often associated with royalty, the colour purple symbolizes bravery, spirituality, and luxury. Light purple usually brings up romantic or nostalgic feelings; while a darker shade can make you feel gloomy or sad.

Red. The colour red symbolizes some of the most powerful human emotions, like passionate love or lust. On the other side of the spectrum, this warm colour is also the colour of blood, often symbolizing anger, danger, and violence. It stimulates the appetite. Red is an emotionally intense colour associated with energy, danger, anger, passion and determination. The symbolic meaning associated with the colour red is passion, excitement, and love. It’s the colour of urgency, power, and desire. Red is said to boost hunger and is believed to inspire confidence and excitement. This colour has also been found to increase blood pressure and heart rate.

White. This primary colour traditionally symbolizes innocence, peace, and cleanliness. In Western cultures, the colour white also represents purity and virginity, while it symbolizes mourning in some East Asian cultures. Usually has positive connotations when used and thought of as safe. Associated a lot with healing, simplicity and sterility, which is why it's used in hospitals and healing centers as much as it is. The symbolic meaning of the colour white is truth and sometimes even indifference. It encourages feelings of safety and cleanliness. Clean, white clothes and linens show sterility since stains are easily visible. That’s why doctors and nurses frequently wear white lab coats and scrubs.

Yellow. Writers may use the colour yellow to symbolize creativity, happiness, optimism, and warmth—think of a yellow ray of sunlight poking out from a dark cloud. A common negative connotation of the color yellow is cowardice, popularized by the phrase “yellow-bellied.” Warming effect which stimulates body and mind. Gold is associated with the highest of luxury. When bright yellow is used with black it's one of the easiest colour combinations to see from long distances; when uses with lighter colours it's not so easy to see. Yellow ribbons are worn as a symbol of hope and used quite often to welcome home loved ones. Yellow is the colour of warmth, kindness, and happiness. It’s often associated with optimism and well-being and promotes energy.

Brown. This warm, earthy brown colour may symbolize dependability, comfort, and a sense of being grounded. Brown is also a neutral colour, and writers may use it to represent dullness and predictability. Brown is a colour that is related to very grounded traits such as simplicity, practicality, common sense and hard work. Can also be associated with those that are frugal and not too flashy.

Gray. Lighter grays are often thought of as more feminine while darker grays more masculine. Gray is considered by many to be a neutral colour; the perfect balance between light and dark / good and evil. Pop up the lighter grays and add a little shine to it, and thought immediately turns to silver, which correlates to wealth.

Sources & related articles: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ On Colours

If these writing notes helped with your poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them! Writing Resources PDFs

[slaymitchabernathy]

Sweet Dreams

Giggles and shrieks can be heard throughout the Snow penthouse. At a crisp eight o’clock at night, when everyone should be tucked in and fast asleep, Coriolanus finds himself in his daughter’s shared bedroom, doing everything but putting them to bed.

It’s rare that he’s able to be home in time for dinner, bath time, and a story, but Sundays are always the exception. He looks forward to it immensely.

Normally, Soarynn is tasked with getting all three of their darling children fed, bathed, and tucked into bed. He’s usually home in time to kiss their foreheads and bid them goodnight, but Sundays are meant for spending time with family and giving Soarynn a bit of a break.

She handled getting Caspian in the bath tonight, which has proven to be quite difficult for their almost two-year-old since he doesn’t want to go anywhere without his stuffed lion these days. This includes the bathtub apparently and Coriolanus can only battle the small child for so long before he gets himself doused in bath water and humiliation.

So, he helped the girls with their bath, much easier since they know what to do and how to do it. All he needed to do was help with washing their hair and drying them off.

Now, clothed in matching pajamas with bunnies on them, the girls giggle up a storm as he blows a raspberry against Ceraphina’s stomach, causing his oldest daughter to let out another delighted shriek, “Daddy, no!”

Coriolanus grins, just like her mother, Ceraphina’s always been ticklish. He feels Celeste climbing onto his back, always prepared to defend her big sister against the tickle monster. “Let her go!” His youngest daughter demands, pulling on his curls with such force that he swears she pulls out a few strands.

Before any of them can say or do anything else, a sharp voice interrupts their nightly shenanigans. “Coriolanus Snow, you are supposed to be putting them to bed, not riling them up!”

All three of them have the decency to look guilty while Soarynn stares at them through the doors, Caspian hugged to her hip, Lenny the lion in his hand. “We were only playing Mommy,” Celeste says, sliding off his back and onto the bed.

Soarynn raises a brow, “I didn’t realize that playing meant climbing all over your father. You girls have school in the morning, remember? I don’t want to hear any whining when I come to wake you up.”

Ceraphina puts on her best smile, sweet and innocent. Very misleading. “We won’t Mommy,” she promises, batting her lashes for added effect, “we were just getting to bed, right Daddy?”

Coriolanus clears his throat, clearly caught red handed, “Yes, yes darling, we were just getting to bed. You know I would never rile the children up on purpose.”

Soarynn walks into the bedroom, approaching the large canopy bed that girls both insist on sleeping in instead of sleeping separately. He thinks it’s sweet that they don’t want to be apart, better than them fighting, at least.

“Hmm, well when I come back, you’d better be fast asleep,” she warns, stopping at the edge next to him, “or no dessert for the entire week.”

The girls gasp at such a threat and Caspian’s eyes grow wider as if he’s been roped into this punishment as well. Soarynn gives Coriolanus a poke in the shoulder, “You too mister, and I know how much you love having your dessert in bed.”

Oh, she means business.

Coriolanus places his hand over his heart, “Darling, you have my word, they will be fast asleep when you return. You know how much I cherish my vanilla flavored dessert.” Soarynn smirks, he can deny it all he wants, but he’s merely her humble servant, begging to taste between her legs every night after a long day of work.

If he were to be denied that sweet luxury, he might just kill himself.

“I want the dessert Daddy has,” Celeste demands, crossing her arms with a pout. Soarynn’s cheeks turn pink and Coriolanus nearly chokes on his words, “This is um, this is a special dessert sweetheart, only for Daddy. It has alcohol in it.”

There, that usually solves any issues that come with sharing food, or in this case, sharing Soarynn.

Both girls still look skeptical, but Soarynn puts any worries to bed by leaning over to kiss Celeste on the cheek. “Goodnight my sweet girl, I hope you have sweet dreams.” Celeste, begrudgingly lies down on her pillow, watching her mother walk around to the other side of the bed so she can kiss Ceraphina goodnight as well.

“Goodnight Mommy,” Ceraphina says, tilting her head so Soarynn can kiss her cheek instead. Soarynn smiles, “Goodnight honey, have sweet dreams.”

“Dreams,” Caspian repeats, lifting up Lenny for emphasis. Coriolanus chuckles, “Goodnight Cas. I’m sure you and Lenny will get up to all sorts of trouble in your dreams tonight.”

Soarynn shakes her head at his prediction, smoothing down Caspian’s budding curls, “Never, isn’t that right sweet boy? You’d never cause any trouble. Never, ever, ever.”

She can deny it all she wants, but Caspian has Soarynn wrapped around his little finger. He’s a momma’s boy through and through. It’s not like he’s faring any better with the girls, bending over backwards for them whenever they need or want anything.

Perhaps it has something to do with the girls looking like Soarynn and Caspian looking like him.

Either way, the children have hit the jackpot. A doting mother who spends every day with them, and a providing father who ensures that they have every luxury they could possibly ever need.

Snow lands on top once again.

“Goodnight my darlings,” Soarynn calls while walking back into the hallway, “I love you!”

The girls shift under the covers, calmed down from their nightly roughhousing with him, “Daddy? Can you please read us one story? Just one?” Ceraphina asks hopefully, even raising a single finger to show him how many she means.

Coriolanus chuckles, he knows how this will go, it’ll start with one, then two, then they’ve read all the books they have and then he can’t have dessert for a week.

He can’t have that.

“I’m afraid not my darling, we wouldn’t want to get in trouble with your mother.”

Coriolanus Snow stands at six-foot-two, weighs about a hundred and ninety-five pounds, with impeccable good looks and a very authoritative nature. Rarely does anyone defy him, stand up to him, or question his decisions.

But his wife who stands at a short five-foot-six scares the absolute shit out of him if he’s being completely honest. She may be small but she sure is mighty, making him bend to her will without even trying. He’s a lot of things, but he’s no fool and he won’t be the one to break any of her rules.

Even if he is the head of their household.

He wears the pants, but she washes, dries, irons, and folds them.

But then he sees it, the tears in both his daughter’s eyes. Their blue eyes quickly fill to the brim with disappointment and he just can’t have that. No, his little princesses will always get what they want, just like their mother.

“Alright,” he gives in, “but just one. And I get to pick it this time.”

The girls smile brightly while he scans their bookshelf, looking for the thinnest book possible. Sometimes he misses the simple ones from when they were younger, with a maximum of five pages and every word containing two syllables.

Now it’s so complex, there’s a plot, there’s lore.

And the girls know all of these books front to back, so heaven forbid he skip a word or two.

Finally, he settles on a crowd favorite, mostly because it’s about a rabbit and the girls are obsessed with rabbits right now.

“This one,” he shows them, sitting back on the edge of their bed, “the story of Reggie the Rabbit.”

The girls give him their full undivided attention while he reads it aloud to them, making sure to do the voices for each character even if he feels quite silly doing it. The book is rather short but has a sweet ending that means getting them to bed much quicker.

One time he had walked in on both the girls and Soarynn tearing up over a sad ending to one of their books and had to console all three of them at once.

Soarynn may have given the girls her looks, but she also passed on her ability to feel all the emotions at once. A blessing and a curse sometimes in his opinion, but then again, he’s never had much of a heart until Soarynn came into his life, giving him three beautiful children and unconditional love.

He finishes in a record time of four minutes, leaving one minute open for questions and speculation about why Reggie always insists on wearing a bow tie, a common topic that seems to be brought up when they read this specific book.

“Alright then,” he groans, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp, “time for bed my princesses. You’ve got school tomorrow and Daddy has to go to work.”

Celeste looks up at him, her bright blue eyes are nearly identical to his and Caspian’s, almost like looking in a mirror. “Are you gonna have your dessert now, Daddy?”

Now he’s blushing.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he gets out, kissing her forehead, “I’m going to have my dessert now.”

He goes over to Ceraphina’s side of the bed, turning off her lamp and kissing her on the forehead as well, “Goodnight my darlings, I hope you have sweet, sweet dreams tonight.”

“Will you please turn on the nightlight Daddy?”

Coriolanus nods, rising up to his full height, towering over his small girls, “I will darling.” Another thing the girls got from Soarynn: her fear of the dark.

He remembers one time before the children were born, a storm passed through the Capitol, knocking out the power. Soarynn almost knocked herself out from hyperventilating. She hates the dark and insisted on all of their children sleeping with nightlights once they were born.

Coriolanus doesn’t mind the dark, but if it bothers Soarynn, it bothers him.

He makes sure to flip on their nightlight which casts starry shadows onto the ceiling before glancing back at their bed one last time. They’re still under the covers which is a victory in itself.

When they were little, they’d slip right out of bed and follow him, the sound of little feet pattering on the hardwood floor would cause the whole process to start back over again.

“Goodnight girls,” he whispers, flipping off the overhead light, “sweet dreams.”

He quietly slips out into the hallway and closes the doors behind him, letting out a sigh once he lets go of the handles.

Coriolanus pads down the hallway, stopping outside of Caspian’s room to listen for any noises. Sometimes Caspian needs something so he always makes sure to listen out for their son who still sleeps in a crib. Thankfully, he hears nothing.

Coriolanus makes his way to his own bedroom where Soarynn is already waiting for him, curled up in bed with someone else.

Petunia.

The feline barely even looks at him, staring at the pages of Soarynn’s book as if she can read too. With the way Soarynn talks about her, you’d think Petunia could recite the alphabet backwards.

“All three children are asleep and accounted for,” he proudly announces, closing the doors to their own bedroom. Soarynn merely hums, flipping to the next page.

Coriolanus approaches the bed slowly, as if a predator is sneaking up on its prey. Soarynn notices when he’s almost on top of her, grinning from behind her book, “What’re you doing Coryo?”

He grins back at her, cocking his head, “I need my dessert darling.”

Her grin widens and she sets down her book, “Oh, really? Have you been good? Have you earned it?”

Coriolanus climbs onto the bed, caging her in with his hands, “Oh, I’ve earned it,” he answers with a husky voice, “and I go to sleep very angry without my dessert, you know.”

A nervous giggle escapes her lips as he leans down and kisses her neck, causing Petunia to jump off the bed and abandon ship. Maybe she is smarter than she looks because she always knows when to get the hell out of here when they start getting intimate.

“And what, and what do I get out of you eating your dessert?” She asks breathlessly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Coriolanus chuckles, even without makeup she’s so stunning, so beautiful and perfect.

He kisses her nose before answering.

“You get to have very sweet dreams.”

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames |

[puzzled-pegasus]

wof headcanons but theyre oddly food and substance related for some reason

Although I understand why Tui didn't include very much info abt alchohol or drugs in a kids book there is an extreme lack of culinary related world building so here are some ideas I had while on this train of thought :)

SeaWings tend to be foodies and are generally given cooking classes in school. Which if you think about it, is rather important, because like 60 percent of the creatures in the ocean are poisonous and the rest have parasites and nasty germs so they need to know whats up when it comes to food safety.

SeaWings use a lot of citrus in their food and drinks and they also use it for fragrances and stuff they just really like it

SeaWing nobles commonly eat fugu and there have been assassinations where a chef was bribed to not properly take out the poison so the dragon eating it would die

SeaWings drink to taste. SkyWings drink to forget what century it is.

SkyWings typically eat their meat raw but on special occasions they will barbecue it and put some spices n stuff on it. They don't eat much else besides meat but they do like spicy things like peppers and they also like strong onion or garlic flavors. The little masochists. Anyway,

SkyWings don't really like sweet things and many of them can't even taste them so they're like wtf is a dessert

man do they love them some olives tho. Olives everywhere. In their drink. Out of the jar. On their meat. Oil on their scales. Oil in their hygiene products. They started trading them from the Sand and SeaWings millennia ago but theyve selectively bred ones that grow in the mountains

This one's more drugs than food but SkyWings will sometimes take some kind of stimulant before battle like a beserker so they're all fired up heheh

MudWings are excellent meal preparers and sibs like to all cook together so they'll make a big pot of stew or something

They like bread and desserts, they have easy access to sugar cane being along the east coast and they also use a lot of honey. They're re into canning stuff too, they have a lot of raspberries and blackberries and strawberries in their temperate forest areas and they grow them to make jam and wine and they use honey to make mead

basically they are Cottagecore(TM) and I love them

They also eat lots of freshwater fish and crawfish and whatnot

And they also eat a lot of tatoes

Vanilla grows in the swamps, they use that in their cakes

MudWings deserve some appreciation goddamnit their kingdom is biologically diverse and beautiful

SandWings have tequila because. Yknow. Cactus.

They eat a lot of bugs and lizards, they don't really need to eat every day so it's not a huge deal

they do like coconuts tho and they use coconut oil in a lot of their hygiene products as well as in their cooking

They deep fry a lot of shit. Idk where i got this but trust me. They love things with lots of fat in it bc they need all they can get

Really sticky sweet desserts and candy; enjoyers of those one lollipops with the mealworms or whatever tf in them

also canning stuff like bone broth is very important

pickled cactus as well

rhey probably have a festival when cactus fruit goes in season

what even is IceWing cuisine.

Well way up north where there's nothing but ice it's pretty bad and the dragons have to eat just plain ass meat and seafood, but down into the tundras there's some pretty good stuff like cinnamon, pines for tea, honey berries, and other foraging as well as more diversity of meats

They would probably eat sushi

All the other tribes like to make fun of them and rightfully so bc their food is so plain

they make good honey berry wine tho

Maube that's why theyre so damn grumpy

RainWings are expert foragers ofc but they don't really feel the need to prepare their food in any way

They are, however, in constant dire need of sodium because they get absolutely none from their fruit

So anything salty is wow

Maybe rhey have a place near the mud kingdom border where they can grow some asparagus for salt

they are also the only tribe besides Night that can eat chocolate but forgor 💀 how to make it so the NightWings and them have to re figure it out together

Salted dark chocolate bing bang boom instant delicacy

NightWings used to be able to cook really well, especially desserts and pastry, but they forgor while they were trying to not die on the volcano

[unicornsparkles7]

popular!chris shooting his shot!?

(lower case intended)

chris spent the next few weeks pining after you—or, at least, attempting to while trying to seem nonchalant about it. he asked questions about you through his close friends, or to some of the other cheerleaders he remembers from past hookups. yet, you remained blissfully unaware that you had BU's golden boy chasing after you like a moth to a flame. you've heard of the name before, how could you not? he's the best freshman in the team, with enough talent to the NBA if he really wanted to, it also helps that he's extremely good-looking and others say that he's even better in bed than he is on the court.

you've noticed him too—again, how could you not? i mean he's just so easy on the eyes. maybe a few days later after the party, when word spread like wildfire that chris had his eye on of the cheerleaders, it was all the group chat could talk about. with some hype—and delusion—you start to believe that chris might actually be interested in you after spotting you at the last big frat party. however, time is ticking and there's only a few more days before the end of the school year and summer break. yay!

that doesn't stop chris from plotting like a mastermind, figuring out how he's gonna grab your attention and talk to you. no, nothing would. he could taste it on the tip of his tongue—you were different. and the fact that you seem to be a little naïve only added an extra layer of determination to snag you before the wrong guy does. from stalking your reposts to your following, he picked up on the little things that you like, brushing up on some of it before going about his day. and actually, making an appearance to his classes—it was his excuse just in case he ran into you. but no one has to know that.

and thank god he decided to walk to class today. he couldn't have found a better time or place to spot you than right now. alone, at one of the pop-up tents waiting for food. this is the best opportunity. class could wait a little longer, hell it doesn't even matter at this point because now is his chance. he runs a hand through his brown locks, subtly fixes his clothing, and walks over to the same tent you're at before tapping your shoulder. its pathetic really, at how he swore he just went to heaven and back after making eye contact with you for the first time.

"sorry to bother you, but what did you get? i'm trying to decide, and i can't." chris's voice had a hint of a teasing edge to it. you lift your head up from your phone and turn to the voice—low and behold, chris. you try your best to push aside all the little voices in your head yelling as you finally are able to have a conversation with him and not hear his words from someone else that could or could not be lying.

still, you remain your usual self, certainly not wanting to make it known that you've been eyeing him too. you flash him your signature smile before speaking. "i actually don't know." you spoke with a small shrug, "i'm just saving a spot for my friend. she had to go to the restroom but i think she's getting a frozen mango with sour patch kids and chamoy italian ice. i could text her if you want," you turn on your phone again to unlock it before he interrupts.

"no, no its fine don't worry. don't care much to wonder what your friends are getting—was more interested in you." and there's that grin that you see in photos and tiktok's he posts of himself or with his friends. "well, i'm actually gonna get just a vanilla cone. wanted something simple and sweet," you shrug and move forward in line. you out your phone in your back pocket, wanting to give chris your attention and not come off as rude.

"they also sell this amazing lemonade that's both sweet and sour enough that gives it a little twist, you know? anyways that's really good. i always get it in blue raspberry and i'm sure that the regular raspberry tastes the same. i don't get the difference between blue raspberry and regular raspberry besides the color..." you go on a small tangent about the difference between the taste of raspberry and blue raspberry just to fill the silence.

"sorry about that." you spoke with a small shy smile and avoid eye contact with him for a few seconds in order to slow down your racing heart. still, it doesn't go unnoticed by you of the ghost grin on chris's face when he listened to you yap about the whole, however long you were talking to him for. "no, no, don't worry about that at all. i like hearing you talk. its cute, you're cute." you turn to him with a smile, "thank you!" and you can see the shit-eating grin on his face. well, its less shit-eating than usual, its...softer? it's shard to read but still, you're than that and plus you enjoy the chase. it's nice knowing that someone is really down bad for you, they'd get down on their knees just to hear you say yes.

"so... you got a boyfriend?" the question catches you off guard because yeah, you've heard the rumors and of course you have your delusional friends gaslighting you into believing that he may actually like you but still its surprising when those words leave his mouth. "why? wanna ask me out?" you tear, and when you spot the subtle blush creeping up on his face it feeds your ego even more. he's quick to brush it off and keep the same grin on. "damn right sweetheart." "hmmm well, i don't like going on dates without knowing the guy first and becoming friends."

a slight risk in your tone and you're really wondering if he's actually going to spend his time and energy on you just for one simple date. he pauses and moves for war in line with you before speaking up again. "you want us to become friends before going on a date?" you nod your head giving him a smile even though you don't believe that he'll do the bare minimum for you when he had a line of girls that are waiting for him with the drop of a hat. "okay...okay. i'll do that. i'll wait for you and you, being friends doesn't sound that bad."

man does he know how to make a girls' jaw drop. but you remain collected—even if your eyes widen slightly at his words, but you know who really cares about that? you can see your friend walking towards you but your focus remains on chris. "really? you don't seem the type to—" "take my time? no, not really but you seem the type to wait for. even if it wounds me that you can't see my awesomeness." he fakes hurt and puts his hand on his chest. you can't help but chuckle softly at how he responds and push his chest playfully. chris swore that his heart skipped a beat despite its cliche.

"but its okay 'cause i'll make it all worth it pretty girl. just wait, trust the process." he grabs your hand from his chest and holds it in his own giving you a small squeeze. you let out a playful groan, "shut up!" you spoke with giggles and exchange a few more words before he gets your number and provides you with some more company even after your friend shows up again. "okay well i gotta get to class, see ya later pretty girl" he grins before walking off to his class, showing up 5 minutes before it ends. thank god for class... i guess.

[miss-morgans-lover]

Take some Kendall for international women's day:

G'ma Betty was the first person she truly trusted, before that, she barely trusted herself, let alone others

It took her months to even think about the idea of telling the rangers anything about herself that the public didn't know

When she did it was the smaller things like that she's actually from Texas, and that she's adopted

It was when Heckyl was revealed and she fully broke down because she hadn't seen a thing, and she'd trusted him so blindly and he'd abandoned them, that she revealed her own abandonment issues.

She loves to dress as a cowgirl, as the stereotypical Texan, but she doesn't often because it would confuse the public who thinks she's from Amber Beach

She holds talks on women's empowerment, especially within the industry of paleontology, which is incredibly male dominated

She mentors Shelby in paleontology, to help her get ahead in the industry

Her favourite colour has always been purple

She drinks her coffee with milk and like 3 sugars, but only Shelby, Phillip and Chase know that

She hates hot tea with a passion, but loves cold sweet teas, especially in the summer, and especially raspberry

Her favourite jacket she owns is her black leather jacket which has a really dark purple lining. She got it from G'ma when she turned 19, and has worn it ever since

She adores the scent of vanilla and new books, and has multiple candles of both she lights when she's at home and overwhelmed

Her favourite science is chemistry, but she uses biology more

She's a semi secret history and mythology nerd, especially mythology

Her favourite element is fire, she finds it entrancing

Her bi awakening was a popular girl at one of her high schools when she was 14, but she didn't accept her sexuality till she was almost 17

She has therapy once a month to work through her abandonment issues and PTSD from her childhood

This is my canon Kendall moodboard and my gender/sexuality hcs btw ⬆️

[aloysiavirgata]

little fic: Scully 60th birthday with Mulder and their three offsprings (Emily, Will, Baby)

pretty please :) :)

Emily has been practicing for almost two years now, at a good dermatology office northwest of Baltimore. Emily is 5’10 and freckled, with hair like a Nebraska wheat field and her mother’s remarkable eyes. Emily, extroverted and charming and the life of every party, was the captain of three varsity teams in high school. Emily left soccer cleats and lacrosse sticks all over the house; Emily wore her father out with endless games of catch and tag and chase-the-frisbee. She has a quiet boyfriend named Sebastian who makes heavenly rugelach. He and Mulder swap notes on sourdough starters.

“Happy birthday, Scully!” she says, bending over to kiss her pixie mother. “You don’t look a day over 40, and I should know.”

Scully laughs, clutches at the human Golden Retriever that is her daughter. “I’m so glad to see you,” she says. “Where’s Baz?”

“Got a cake in the car. Hi, Dad!” She hurls herself into her father’s arms, laughing when he staggers backwards a bit.

“Jesus, kid,” Mulder says, squeezing her close. “Cut an old man some slack.”

Emily, laughing, is bright as the sun.

William, rangy and pale from too many hours in the chemical engineering lab, tosses grapes into his mouth while Vera, newly five, applauds.

“That’s forty-two, Will,” she says, adoringly, marking in her notebook. She huffs a new-penny corkscrew of hair from her line of sight. Vera alone inherited their mother’s hair. Their father’s changeable eyes.

“What up, nerd?” William says to his older sister. He throws her a grape, which she catches and eats.

Vera applauds again, records further data with the tip of her pink tongue poking between her lips.

“Price of gas,” Emily replies, walking over to drop kisses on her siblings. “Helicopters.”

Vera flings her arms around her sister’s neck. “Where is Baz, please?”

Emily scowls. “Everyone loves him more than me, even my own family. What gives?” She scoops her sister onto her hip.

“Baz makes patisserie,” Vera says, carefully enunciating. “Baz c’est magnifique.”

“Where’d you learn French?” Emily asks.

Vera beams but does not answer.

“We don’t know,” Scully says. She scolds Daggoo from the couch.

“Enigmatic little thing,” Mulder says proudly. “Like the rest of you.”

William pinches Vera’s bare toes, making her squeal. Like his father, he doesn’t openly acknowledge that Emily can see ghosts and learn from them. That he’s telekinetic, that sweet little Vera is, at least partially, psychic. He knows that Vera can speak a little French because Mulder can speak a little French.

Vera does a lot of things, does them quietly.

Their family is so boisterous, they talk so much and say so little.

Baz comes in, carrying a robin’s-egg-blue cake draped in garlands of pale yellow Lambeth frosting.

Vera gasps. “Oh, c'est beau ! Scully, regarde ce qu'il t'a fait! N’es-tu pas fière, Emily?”

William lolls on the sofa. On the table, a Rubik’s cube silently solves itself.

Emily looks at her extraordinary baby sister. Her beautiful, strange little brother. She looks at her mother, who isn’t aging quite right. At her father, whose ghosts she holds in her scarred heart. She returns her sister to the couch.

She kisses Baz on his perfect, regular, amazing, ordinary face.

“English please,” she says to Vera. “Just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.”

Emily attended medical school at Hopkins.

“Fitzgerald,” Vera murmurs as she draws a diplodocus. “The Great Gatsby.”

Mulder and Scully exchange a glance.

Baz, beaming and sweetly, beautifully, oblivious, sets his artwork on the table. “Vanilla chiffon and raspberry,” he says, a kiss on Scully’s marble cheekbone. “Swiss buttercream.”

Emily preens.

“My favorite!” Vera cries.

William lights the candle without touching it, to make a point to Emily.

Emily, as expected, glares.

Vera gazes at the adults, enraptured. She sings Happy Birthday to her mother with the tone-deaf verve of kindergarten. She snuggles against her father with the trust of the utterly adored.

Scully grins, blows out the candles.

Watch little Vera, say Melissa and Samantha to Emily. She’s more.

Emily pretends to ignore her aunts, sees her brother adjust a deck of cards across the room. Sees her mother’s extraordinary beauty, sees her father’s extraordinary love.

She hugs her mother and cries, just a little, for reasons that are unclear. “I love you,” Emily says, throaty.

William rises, embraces them both. “Happy birthday, Mom,” he says. He kisses the top of her shining head.

Vera looks up from her drawing. “Ich habe keine Unruhe,” she says in her sweet, fluting voice.

Scully’s wine glass hits the floor in a sudden, piercing cry.

[hugemilkshake]

Hey! Here’s the start of my Cookie run school AU

Me and a friend were playing Tower of Adventures and I thought of this

If you have any questions about the au then feel free to ask (I’m also still working on stuff)

Cookie Run- School AU (all games)

STAFF

Principle- First Cream

Vice Principal- Mystic Flour

Math- Tea Knight, Elder Faerie and Dark Enchantress

English- Black Sugar Sawn, Lotus, Eternal Sugar and Stormbringer

Science- Dr wasabi (chem) Sea Fairy (marine bio) White Lily (Genetics) Dr Bones (anontoy/ bio)

History- Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese

PE- Hollyberry and Tarte Tatin (health sci) Pitaya (reg) Burning Spice (dance)

Theater- Shadow milk

Tech- Xylitol Nova

Baking- First Grain

Film- Butter Squid

Gardening- Millennial tree

Aerodynamics- Pilot Cookie

Criminal justice- Almond Cookie

Art- Time Keeper (draw and paint) lychee (Ceramics)

Music- Ananas (band and choir) Frost Queen (orchestra) Silent Salt (guitar)

phycology - Dreamweaver

Religion- Longan???

Counselors- Pure Vanilla and Oyster

Assistant teachers- Wind archer, Fire Spirit and Crimson coral, Latte

Middle/Elementary teachers- Sugar sawn, Red Panna Cotta, Ginseng, Butterbear

CLUBS + Members

Fencing- Raspberry Mousse (leader) Raspberry (vice) Cream Soda, Ninja, White Choco, Pistachio, Leek, Cherry Cola

[imjustafangirl3]

Ugghh I just stayed up like all night jotting down locations for Vanilla Raspberry https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LAszZGTl4muS0Zx_h7Ko1Eb7vhe9K60yl7nADhyzkKI/edit?usp=sharing

If anyone wants to look at it Tbh ill probably make a pinned post just for Vanilla Raspberry :P

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Bonne Bell Flip Glosses in Rocket Pop, Tangerine Dream, Cherry Zinger and Green Apple Spritz

2000-2001

My personal picture of my collection

I'm so happy to have these again! The Tangerine Dream was my favorite, but all 4 of these hold a special place in my heart. I was using these when I was using Art Stuff, especially Lotta Lemon Lime and Frutie Cutie and then into high school with Black Raspberry Vanilla and the Pleasures line.

[peaches2217]

It's not unusual for Peasley to host extravagant parties. He's a people person, a Bean's Bean, and a skilled politician to boot. Parties are as much an excuse to mingle and have fun as they are an opportunity to strengthen bonds with nobles and the common people alike. Admittedly, Luigi's fascinated by his methodical approach to an activity typically considered gratuitous. It's a lot like Peasley himself: at first glance garish and full of himself, but shockingly thoughtful beneath the surface.

Some months into their courtship, Peasley invites him to his latest party at the capitol. In a first, it's a themed party; all guests are encouraged to dress in the fashions of the Metro Kingdom.

"I've always found it so charming," Peasley reasons, "all the colorful suits and elegant dresses!" And Luigi can't help but agree; from what Mario has described to him, a classy evening in the heart of the Metro Kingdom looks a lot like a high school prom in Brooklyn. (Or so they would presume. They didn't go to their senior prom. Long story.)

With no shortage of encouragement from his brother, Luigi gets himself a veridian suit, spends the day prior to the event in total isolation so he's got enough energy to survive the night, and then charges in head-first.

Peasley greets him outside of the hall where the excitement is being contained, and phew, he looks good. His gold hair is tied back for once, a thin braid running through it just above where his left ear would be if he actually had ears, and he's wearing a white suit that's equal parts tacky and enchanting, his rapier fastened to his right hip as usual. Luigi feels kinda woozy just looking at him.

He clings to Peasley's arm (or at least makes his best attempt to, being nearly a full foot taller than him) as he's led into the thick of the gathering. He expects Peasley to acquaint him with a few people, make sure he's comfortable enough to hold his own, and then split for short bursts of time to tend to his own royal matters.

Except he doesn't. Not once, not the entire night.

He proudly shows Luigi off to what must be every last guest in attendance, sparing no opportunity to divulge great detail about his heroic exploits (they mostly involve ghosts, because everyone already knows about the Cackletta incident), his great works of philanthropy (helping Toads repair pipes, fix roofs, and other assorted physical tasks in his free time), his unparalleled ability to coax life from unassuming seeds, filling entire gardens with color and cheer (he has successfully grown one (1) rose in his entire life, and he only managed because Peasley walked him through every step of the process).

Just listening — heck, just watching, seeing how proud Peasley looks to have Luigi on his arm, how he lights up at every chance to talk about him, how his name passes his lips with such reverence  — you'd think Luigi was the Crown Prince and Peasley was his unassuming date.

When he's not waxing lyrical about Luigi, he's feeding him tiny squares of cake (raspberry vanilla — his favorite!) or pouring another serving of punch into a champagne glass for him (coconut cream — also his favorite! That's lucky!); if he's not doing that, then he's pulling him into the middle of the room and sweeping him into graceful waltzes, the sort Luigi can only keep up with because 1) waltzes are all-in-all simple and predictable and 2.) Peach was insistent on teaching him the ins and outs of ballroom dancing just last week. All eyes are on them, and yeah, it's pretty overwhelming, but Peasley's just so happy that it's easy to get lost in the music with him.

But Luigi can only handle so much social interaction, and as soon as he starts focusing too hard on his hands and clicking his tongue in the back of his throat over and over, Peasley whisks him away to a private balcony for some fresh air.

"So?" he asks as Luigi decompresses from all the socialization. "Have you enjoyed your evening, my dear?"

Now that he's not surrounded by so much stimuli, Luigi can honestly say that yeah, he has! In spite of being the center of attention for most of it, he's never been able to enjoy himself at a party so much as he's enjoyed himself tonight. And now that he's away from it all, now that the music and the laughter are muffled someplace behind them and they're finally alone in the gentle night breeze, he's able to appreciate that in full.

And he's also able to think a little more clearly. This whole thing seems... off. Not unpleasantly so, but there's something going on, something beyond the straightforward premise presented to him initially. Why did Mario seem so eager for him to come to this gathering, when normally he would encourage Luigi to weigh the pros and cons of attending such a stamina-draining event? Why did Peach seem so eager to teach him all of the dances that he coincidentally found himself in tonight when she's normally so respectful of his need for personal space?

And why does Peasley seem so eager to hear more affirmations, smiling that I'm-so-terribly-pleased-with-myself smile and staring him down proudly as if he's just achieved some great victory?

"...Okay," Luigi finally chances, "what are you not telling me?"

Peasley, all but vibrating with excitement, finally spills everything.

In one of his letters, Luigi spoke of an old emotional wound from the world in which he was raised: he once tried asking a boy to his senior prom. This boy was a good friend, and he knew about Luigi's sexuality, so Luigi had foolishly assumed it was a risk worth taking. Even if he rejected his advances, there would be no hard feelings. Right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. The friend was mortified to learn that Luigi had a crush on him. He proceeded to subject Luigi to an onslaught of insults and beration, in the middle of a busy hallway for everyone to hear, and by the end of it Luigi had lost both a friend and what little sense of self-worth he possessed.

By the following school day, the ex-friend had two fewer teeth, Mario had been both suspended and grounded for it, and Luigi had accepted he'd probably be alone for the rest of his life. The brothers spent the night of their senior prom playing video games together.

And hearing this tale, Peasley had been crushed. To be given something so sacred as this perfect human's heart and react with such vitriol! To fill him with such sorrow that he would be denied access to a pivotal coming-of-age ritual (which is absolutely what he believes this "prom" ordeal is)!

And that's why everyone was asked to wear fashions from or styled after the Metro Kingdom tonight. In speaking with Mario behind Luigi's back, Peasley learned that this "prom" ritual was much like a party, and that the clothing worn for the occasion greatly resembled Metro fashion. With that, Peasley set out to correct that ancient heartache.

This is Prom 2.0. This entire party is for Luigi.

And hearing it, Luigi is almost embarrassed he didn't figure that out sooner. The simple but intimate dances, the earnest flattery, the snacks and drinks in his favorite flavors — this was never one of Peasley's standard parties. This was one giant, carefully crafted, probably very expensive love letter from a prince to a plumber.

"But... but that was years ago!" Luigi eventually manages to stammer. He hardly even recalls telling that story in the first place. He never imagined it would have such an impact.

"That doesn't make it alright." Peasley palms at the handle of his rapier, dark eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. "My goal is to one day seek out the portal between our worlds so that I may deliver swift, karmic justice to he who so terribly wronged you! But until that day comes... I do hope this makes up for it."

Luigi realizes, not for the first time overall but for the first time with mind-numbing certainty, that he wants to marry this man.

Neither of them return to the party. They remain together beneath the moon, laughing and sighing and sharing dizzy words of love. Hey, it’s Luigi’s party, and he can play hooky if he wants to.

[calliopechild]

tag game (I swear I didn't Americanize the spellings just to be Like That, but things kept getting the 'spelled wrong' red squiggle and it was driving me nuts, I'm sorry. Am literally an editor for my day job, and no there is no way to turn it off)

was tagged by @angstsplatter!

1) are you named after someone? Nope! All original, baby

2) when is the last time you cried? Hm. Genuinely can't remember. I'm thinking it was when that 'guy starts lifting weights so he can pick up his granddaughter to help her put the star on the Christmas tree' ad made its annual rounds on here, so maybe Christmas-ish?

3) do you like your handwriting? Print, no. Cursive, yes.

4) what is your favorite lunch meat? Rotisserie turkey

5) do you have kids? No and absolutely never will unless they have four legs and fur #childfree

6) if you were another person, would you be friends with you? I think so? We'd think each other were hilarious, if nothing else.

7) do you use sarcasm? Me?? Never!

8) do you still have your tonsils? Last time I checked

9) would you bungee jump? Not on your life. I did a Tarzan swing once and that was more than close enough for me, thanks

10) what is your favorite kind of cereal? I'm not much of a cereal person these days, but Lucky Charms was a guilty pleasure

11) do you untie your shoes when you take them off? No, and I know it's not good for them but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

12) do you think you're a strong person? I think so?

13) what is your favorite ice cream flavor? Before my garbage immune system decided to betray me yet again (*cries in allergic to milk*), the place near me did a raspberry chocolate chip to die for.

14) what is the first thing you notice about people? Sense of humor

15 ) red or pink? Red. Burgundy, if I can be pedantic

16) what do you least like about yourself physically? Oof. If we're talking internally, my shitty digestive system which makes gaining weight and looking healthier a bitch and a half. Externally, shitty skin; I have lots of acne scars on my back that I hate.

17) what color pants and shoes are you wearing now? Gray leggings and slipper shoes

18) what was the last thing you ate? A burrito

19) what are you listening to right now? The fridge humming and the rain

20) if you were a crayon, what color would you be? Teal

21) favorite smell? Vanilla

22) who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? My parents

23) favorite sport to watch? I have a fondness for football after four years of being a band kid in high school

24) hair color? Dark brown. It's been getting darker every year (I was blond as a kid), and now I'm waiting to see if it'll get fully black before it all goes white, like my great-aunt's did.

25) eye color? Brown/hazel

26) do you wear contacts? I used to, but glasses are just less effort

27) favorite food to eat? Bread in literally any form

28) scary movies or comedy? Comedy

29) last movie you watched? The Mummy

30) what color shirt are you wearing? Blue fleece bc I am eternally cold

31) summer or winter? Summer (see above)

32) hugs or kisses? Hugs

33) what book are you currently reading? How Not to Die by Michael Greger

34) who do you miss right now? My sister's dog; he lived with me for about a year when my twin nieces were born, and I got used to him always following me around. He's the best boy.

35) what is on your mouse pad? Only a trackpad, sadly

36) what is the last tv program you watched? Bones

37) what is the best sound? Happy dog barks

38) rolling stones or the beatles? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

39) what is the farthest you have ever travelled? To Scotland! Which is about 3,590 miles, apparently.

40) do you have a special talent? I was gonna say infinite patience for nitpicky tasks, but I think that's just the neurodivergency. I can fold my arms up behind my back so that my forearms are flat (vertically) along my spine?

41) where were you born? California! *starts humming Beach Boys*

42) people you hope will participate in this but don't have to?

@inmydefenestration, @guineapigfluff, @shadows-shells, @yoursarethesweetesteyes, and anyone else who's up for it!

[simming-girl]

Hello Neighbor: WTRB Fanfiction Story (Part 9)

«Was it a nightmare...? I was dreaming...? My heart beats so hard...» - Enzo

It's been a night when Enzo ran to Raven Brooks: Middle School to go to the boys restroom, he just realized it was Mr. Peterson as a shadow while urinating in the toilet (also flushing), but he screamed. He also ran to the sink with a mirror on it, washed his hands putting the soap, also washed his face.

As Enzo was breathing hardly, he wasn't fine at all, his heart almost stopped and the boy went to faint. He woke up, he ran to the house, as his sister waited for him, asking him where was he. His little sister, Maritza, gave him a water.

1 day later...

Nicky: Enz, I learned about you and your little sister that you were scared of crowface. What happened? *worries*

Enzo: Yesterday night, I didn't feel fine at all. A crowface kept chasing us, but I thought I have to go to the toilet. I ran as faster as I could in Raven Brooks: Middle School to enter the boys restroom, and when I peed on the toilet, I realized something. It was... Mr. Peterson as a shadow, and I screamed loudly. I then went to the sink, to wash my hands putting a soap on it, then my face, and my heart was like a stone... I was breathing really hard.

Nicky: Oh, my, god. It's like a nightmare.

Enzo: It is! I went to my house, but my sister asked me where I was. Then she gave me water to feel better.

Nicky: So you felt fine, right? I'm also scared of Mr. Peterson when I break into his house, then kidnaps me like Raccoon Boss, who captures Tom's friends! Then I felt traumatized.

Enzo: Yup.

Maritza: You'll be brave, Enz. Just like me, and don't be scared.

Ivan: You also breathed so hard, right?

Nicky: Also, do you remember when you fell off the roof and your sister Maritza protected you from falling, when you two also twisted, she just hit her head and you got a fractured arm?

Enzo: Yes, this was like 10 months ago.

Maritza: I almost lost my life, my memories...

Enzo: Yeah, I was really worried that I thought you were dead and I started sobbing loudly.

Trinity: Both Nicky and Ivan tried to comfort you, but you kept sobbing *caresses Enzo*.

Ivan: Forget about that, guys!

Enzo: My arm is now fine. *to friends* But when I went to the sink, I almost got a heart clutch, my heart almost stopped, and I went to faint... Then, when I woke up, I was like: «Was I dreaming...? Was it a nightmare...?». Those were the painful words of mine.

Ivan: Oh. If you faint, I'll give you something too.

Enzo: I'm also glad that I'm fine, I wish I was brave, just like my sister.

Nicky: I'm aware if Crowface appears again, we must ran away faster. But guys, forget about those things.

Friends: Okay.

Trinity: Okay, guys. Anyways want an ice cream?

Friends: Yes!!!

Enzo: I've heard of ice cream!! I looove it!

When the kids went to the balcony, Trinity gave her friends an ice cream, and ate it together.

Trinity: Mmm, it's tasty! What's your favourite flavour of ice cream?

Maritza: Delicious! My favourite flavours of every ice cream are strawberry, cherry, chocolate, bubblegum, blackberry, raspberry, and more.

Enzo: Mine are chocolate, pineapple, mango, vanilla, mint chocolate chip, pistachio, etc.

Ivan: My favourites are coconut, chocolate, banana, caramel, and more.

Nicky: Mine are bubblegum, coconut, caramel, chocolate, cookies and cream, vanilla, strawberry, etc.

Trinity: Good, I'll tell you my favourite flavours of ice cream because, they're delicious as heaven. My favourite flavours are chocolate, berry, blackberry, strawberry, cherry, bubblegum, coconut, and more.

Friends: Wow, there are many flavours that are delicious!

Enzo: It made me happy while eating it- *gets hugged by Trinity and blushes* Umm.. Thank you. *giggles*

Trinity: Do y'all mind, if I tell you to go home, if you want? I'm kindly asking. Also, I hope your day is going better.

Maritza: No, it's okay, we can go home! Anyways, bye, see you soon, Trin.

Trinity: We live for one name, Maritza! *laughs* By the way, bye Mari. See you soon.

Enzo: Bye! *hugs Trinity* See you soon!

Ivan: Goodbye!! *smiles and waves*

Trinity waved at her friends, and closed the door of her room in her home.

♡ Part 10 is coming ♡