areej2002

[areej2002]

It’s 11pm, I’m tired and love women and have an essay due tomorrow that I’m not working on when I should be. I’m also craving a hug. Good night.

Tempted to stay up later and write a bunch of OTP Prompts and cutesy concepts, but my brain is being unnecessarily sensible and saying to either sleep or study. Good night.

...I have an ask box thingy, what would I have to do to be cool enough for someone to use it?

[areej2002]

WLW Short Story: “Cuddles”

It had been a long, tiring day at work that day. Willow's bones creaked and her voice sounded like the screams of the night, wafts of innocent soul burring and reforming around her silky black cape. She wasn't normally quite so dead-looking, today was just an exception. See, she'd fallen into the river again, it really wasn't her fault this time, and the spirits had torn away her flesh from her bones to feed themselves. That sort of thing tends to put quite the damper on one's mood, you see.

Willow's phalanges shuddered and clacked in an attempt to hold the apartment key straight, but she got there eventually and the door opened with a smooth creak. She settled her scythe by the doorway, the metal of the blade already repairing its rust, and Willow pointedly avoided looking at her reflection. The wood dripped by the radiator, but it would be dry by the morning. The door clicked closed and the hallway was gone.

She chucked off her cloak onto the arm of the sofa, fully ready to collapse on the couch and wait until the aggressive ringing in her currently theoretical ears abided. If it had been any other day she may have been fantasizing about a glass of calming tea, too, but she doubted it would do her weary bones much good today. On second thought, maybe she should put the cloak away. Angie liked the look of the house when the cloaks were put away neatly, and the brilliant Angie was certainly a much more trustworthy of a judge when it came to these things the half-alive Willow was feeling up to that night.

A comforting humming song was coming from the bedroom. There, in the soft light from the bedside, came the familiar crackling thrum of the antique radio singing pop music from her lover's nightstand. Angie was singing along softly, the bed covers already snug around her as she swayed her head softly to the tune. How Willow loved that girl. Angie brightened when she saw Willow's ominous figure in the shadows. Why the room felt a few degrees warmer under that gaze. Angie patted the neatly arranged bedding beside her, warm and inviting.

Angie had come to do that often on nights like these. If Willow found herself drowning in work to the dead of night, when she would come home drained and barely alive, she would see Angie. The bed would be covered in carefully selected blankets, as though she had made it her personal mission to ensure Willow had a warm bed to come home to, and her love would be there waiting to hold Willow until she fell to sleep. It was a unique sort of love, one unprompted but very much treasured. The blankets smelled freshly washed. They were soft. As Willow settled down beside her, Angie's fingertips brushed ever so softly against Willow's cheekbone, as though she were bushing away the ghost of a strand of hair. For a moment the screams in her mind lost their voice and she could almost say the word in that clarity.

Love was a word rarely spoken between the two of them. Perhaps it got caught somewhere between their heart and their lips. Angie seemed to hear it still - she somehow always did. People had said that one could assume it was scattered through the air freely with the way they acted towards each other. Perhaps they were right to think that, for even though the silence of the night sit undisturbed with spoken words, it was very much there, and Willow could hear it too. The word was in the interlacing of their fingers. 3 squeezes to say "I love you". Their hands felt as though they had never belonged anywhere else. The word was in them too. To Willow, Angie sounded like it, she smelled of it, and every bit of her felt of it. It was sure in her heart, steady as the tender kisses scattered to flushing cheeks. With a love like hers there was little need for words.

The radio thrummed and crackled still, but it fell to the silence. Ba-dum, ba-dum. The only sound she wanted to hear right then was the melody of Angie's heart. The steady drum melted all of Willow's worries away. Ba-dum, ba-dum. She felt the vibrations of Angie's humming from where she lay. Her eyes grew heavy. The pull of sleep was warm and welcoming from within her beloved’s arms. Sleep’s voice only ever called so sweetly from the home Willow found within them. Ba-dum, ba-dum. It didn’t take long to fall asleep after that. Peace at last.

Willow had settled into that calm, deep sleep without a fight or fear that night. She dreamt a pleasant dream about what she would do the next morning with her wonderful Angie. While she wouldn’t remember the contents of the dreams the next day, she wouldn’t need to when she would awaken to the sight of her lover resting beside her. Her dreams had already come true, after all.

[areej2002]

Is my low self confidence acting up or am I just hungry; The spinoff.

Thought I Was Angry But My Blood Sugar Was Just Low: The Saga

[areej2002]

Person A kisses person B on the cheek and cheekily says that that's their way of saying that they're theirs. It isn't until later that Person B realizes that A had left a lipstick mark.

[areej2002]

You ever come up with an idea for a meme that doesn't exist?

Because I've come up with an idea for a meme that requires a hyper-specific template but that template doesn't exist.

And the source to steal that template from doesn't exist.

So now I'm just vibing with untapped glory.

[areej2002]

B is the older person A (Male) is best-friend-crushing on.

A: Do you think I'm hot?

B: In the way that the sun is hot, because you're like a "sun" to me.

A: Ooh, ouch, haha...

[areej2002]

We all know about Mr. Steal-your-girl and Ms. Steal-your-man. Now introducing the third party: Mx. Steal-your-food!

[areej2002]

Fun idea, a Fantasy Soulmate AU (if it's a fanfiction, but I also kinda want to write an original book about it) where soulmates have a matching soul object they can summon upon demand that is unique to them and their soulmate. Example, a couple has a set of matching bracelets, a special ring, etc. Usually quite mundane objects and more ornamental than functional. These objects manifest themselves around puberty, so it varies per couple.

Over time the people with the more potent magical objects band together to make more powerful children. Magic swords, magic guns, magic items! Stuff that's cooler, more threatening. These beings dominate the upper classes, and their soulmate is usually either in that upper class or, uniquely, absorbed into that upper class.

I already have two vastly different ideas I could go with for this idea;

Cheesy option: A middle class worker has 2 soulmate objects, both quite strong. The objects are distinct and unique, and cannot be mistaken for the same object. Incidentally, with minimal effort, they find the individuals with whom they match to be upper class, and the lucky duck is brought in to be with them. Yay, poly power couple! This is good because it's a wonderfully cheesy, wattpad-worthy set up without the annoying love triangle.

The second one; this is not serious in the least. This person had to have had like, one of the weirdest soulmate objects ever. It isn't useless, and it's not an insignificant marble or a dart or anything of that nature, it is a whole singular toaster. They have a kitchen appliance for a soul mate object. =_="

[areej2002]

Holy heck they liked it!!

Art prompt: gaud poorly disguised as a human

genuinely curious what you heathens would come up with for this

[areej2002]

fruit roll ups but gaud

we did this already  turns out i was remembering a old nightmare. alright go ahead, gaud roll ups

[areej2002]

To date the best send off to an omegle convo I have ever done. #thesmallthings UwU

[areej2002]

Recently I noticed that I have a stretch-mark-like scar underneath my eye that has been hurting a lot recently. I'm more interested in a detailed story I developed based off of it.

A young teen starts noticing bumps, soreness, and redness on their forehead. At first they think nothing of it; it's a headache and more acne, big deal, and brush it off, no big deal.

Eventually they start noticing that two of the pimples have become lumps. Hard lumps, with scars starting to form around the scratched, stretched, abused skin.

Naturally this leads them to being self conscious, extra self conscious. Their family says it's just puberty, and tells them to forget about it, but it makes the teen uncomfortable. They start paying special attention to the spots when applying face wash and skin creams, feeling thoroughly irritable when someone comment on their complexion.

Time goes by, and to their horror, the bumps start looking longer. Sharper. It ached badly and they feel like they're growing two giant, sharp teeth out of their forehead. They don't know if they should sleep with their head to the pillow for the soft cushioning, or away because of how much worse the pressure makes the piercing feeling. They start to see something under their skin.

It stays in this state for a while, and as they grow older they start experimenting with the lumps, which the teen suspects are horns (they lack a better explanation) and have been pressing against the spots in a weak attempt to make the horns come out faster and stop hurting already. They're starting to take pills for the pain.

Almost an entire year later, they start seeing the tips of the horns exit their skin. Small ivory bumps emerging from the worn, torn, and stretched skin, their forehead looking a like a lightning storm from the changes. The pain becomes a different kind of sore, and seems more manageable almost. Concealing the horns is still easy, the teen has put effort in to better hide everything.

The year has passed, and the modestly sized horns stand loud and proud from their skull. The aching is mild and unnoticeable, save for the occasional off day. The teen has changed, and all that remains of the struggle is the scars along their temple.

[areej2002]

It has been over a year, and I'm still hooked on this idea! Now, I don't actually know any ASL myself, but I do know it looks pretty and is a proper language that I can learn. I want to make a performance that's both a full body choreography, and a proper song.

I want there to be a rapping portion (I don't know if this is already a thing) and poetic portions and for it to have deep meanings, and a thundering bass that deaf people can enjoy too. The point of this concept is, you know, being more inclusive in these things.

By rapping I mean matching up similar gestures to form "rhymes" and "tongue (finger?) twisters" in rapid movement.

Correct me if I'm being clueless or whatever, I need opinions on this, for real! This has been bugging me all day and I need to let this out there.

Something I’d like to see more of:

Dance and mainstream media featuring ASL.

[areej2002]

It's pretty common for me to get snippets of song ideas while going about my day, and sometimes they becomes full songs. I write them down, refine them, and then feel sad because I cannot sing. Alas, my work will remain untouched.

[areej2002]

We're learning about generic disorders in class, and their effects on the human body remind me of my older, less "anatomically correct" artwork.

[areej2002]

My mental aging is delayed. I'm somehow MORE chaotic and awkward now than I was at any point in Middle School.

[areej2002]

Did some calligraphy in art club today!! The quote is my own! (Although I wouldn't be surprised if someone has already said it.) #calligraphy #mycalligraphy #myart #quote #originalquote https://www.instagram.com/p/B7HJxJLnlD8/?igshid=1elmrw34sd8s4