#I have that art tucked away in my notebook

[mantabanter]

I know most people don’t REALLY care about the lack of content from me (I post when I post and yall seem just fine with that) but I thought I would mention why I haven’t made anything in... eons.

I had a realization with my own art, that I found it messy and quick and... stagnant. And not only all that, but it felt so completely narrow minded as well. It felt like, well, there were only so many things I could draw and so many ways to draw them, and I had to get them out quick OR ELSE-

It was for social media. I was only thinking about social media and whether my art was postable. I was no longer making beautiful things that I loved. I was making things that I thought maybe the internet would like, things that I probably Should make rather than things I actually wanted to.

So I took some time and had a long think and thought: well, what DO I actually want to make? And it’s still something I’m a bit stuck on. I don’t think I have the skills or the ability to make the things I do want to make. Which is disappointing, but also kind of exhilirating. I get to learn and try something new. But also. I probably have to be kind of shit at it first too. Which is NOT GREAT for my ego ;w; but. Thats how it goes. There are a thousand things I want to make, art, AUs, fandom stuff, non-fandom stuff, but I’m kind of realizing I don’t have the time and the skills for everything. Which is sad because. As someone who is terrible at prioritizing, I don’t know what to focus on or spend my time doing! And theres still that little voice in my head that wants to make something that people will like, that people will see, that will get me my fake internet points and make me feel like I have meaning in my life.

And well. I just don’t know. I think I have to go in the opposite direction of all my instincts. I want to make something that will NOT be popular, something NOT related to fandom, something that can be BAD and it’s FINE but something I’ll CARE about. I want to find satisfaction within my art, something that will last with me, not something that will disappear from my mind once it is done gaining traction online. You know?

And I’m not entirely sure what ticks those boxes yet. But I want to get back into trying.

[naffeclipse]

I don't know when I'll ever write this, but I've had this AU in the back of my mind ever since Bendy and the Dark Revival came out, and it's best to get it out of my head before it festers and rots.

More or less, it's BatDR and the DCA smashed into one. The premise is that you are an animator at Fazbear Studios and Sun and Moon are humans who go by Cyrus and Mani respectively, employed as voice actors. (First AU with human Sun and Moon whoo! don't get attached though) Vanessa is a janitor who is a bit odd, mostly keeping to herself though sometimes you feel like she's starting at your back when you're alone.

Cyrus and Mani perform as extras in the Fazbear cartoon, adding supporting voices for side characters and miscellaneous lines. Cyrus often supplies humorous, wacky, and surreal voices to his performances. Mani tends to get villainous or spooky characters with his deeper, raspier voice. They both enjoy what they do and love that they can work together as brothers.

You can't help but notice Cyrus and Mani. You admire their skill, their passion, and their smiles, and you sometimes even work up the courage to wave at Cyrus or Mani whenever one of the brothers happens to pass by your work desk.

They inspire you—not just with their work, but with their small acts of care. You find coffee on your desk when you return from a meeting with the other animators with a little smiling sun doodled on the cup. Sometimes, Cyrus asks you to join him on a walk since it's your lunch break and you could really use some sunshine and a chance to stretch your legs. When it gets far too late and you're burning the midnight oil, Mani is somehow always there, doing a funny voice to surprise you with a little reminder that it's past your bedtime. He leaves you little treats in blue wrappers, hidden in places on your desk, among your ink and papers.

It's not a surprise that you start drawing a character for them in your rare off hours when you still have the energy to hold a pencil. The Fazbear cartoon could add a new, permanent character. A robotic jester, lanky and tall, but with two forms for the day and night, funny and sweet and mischievous. Cyrus and Mani could both voice him!

That's silly, however. Fazbear Studios does not want your chaotic and half-brained scribbles nor do you dare show the brothers what they inspired—they might hate it. You keep your little jester character tucked away, along with a small doodle of a minor, nobody, gray character who may or may not be a tag along to the main act that is the jester. Your sketches and concept art are hidden away, far from where the light of day or the shine of night will ever see.

It goes missing one day. You're upset and asking everyone who went through your desk. No one confesses. Cyrus tells you that it'll be okay, he'll help you find it. Mani suggests that you keep locks on your drawers from now on.

It's never found, not that you wanted either of them to stumble upon it. Yet, they stay late with you after everyone has gone home, looking for your precious and secretive sketchbook through the many departments of the studio.

Somewhere along the way, Cyrus disappears, promising to return with your sketchbook. You lose Mani in the audio department before, oh, there's Vanessa. She tells you to come to the basement with her—she found your notebook. You're relieved but a little put off by Vanessa and reluctantly follow her down into the dark.

You don't find your sketchbook, but you do find Cyrus slumped against the wall, blood trickling down his temple, and a strange collection of shrines to one of the studio's cartoon characters.

Before you can rush to his side, pain explodes in your skull, cracking white across your vision. You fall to the ground, dazed, as Vanessa gives a cryptic promise to return with the last sacrifice. You manage to crawl across the floor in your pitiful state to reach Cyrus and attempt to revive him, but by then, Mani is walking in. His shock overtakes him but he dodges a swipe of Vanessa's wrench and starts struggling against her. You try desperately to drag Cyrus somewhere safe as he murmurs for you to get out of here, but in the middle of Vanessa's and Mani's fight, she flips a switch and ink begins filling the room.

The black flood sweeps Cyrus away from you. Pages spill out from the inside of Vanessa's vest, dozens of sketches of your jester character. You cry out. Mani looks to you. Vanessa at last shoves Mani into the surge of onyx liquid beside Cyrus, and you watch both of them go under together. You scream their names. She turns to you, grinning.

The last thing you remember is Vanessa shoving your head into the ink.

Then it's the only thing you remember. You're vaguely aware that your jet-black hands are strange and shiny, and that you don't know where you are in this sepia-colored studio, but you know something's not right. You're missing someone, and someone else. You're scared.

You wander around for a bit until you're attacked by monsters emerging from the ink, shrieking and wailing in gluey dark forms until a wonderful and terrifying automaton arrives. He destroys such a creature about to tear you apart. He stands so tall, detailed with sharp teeth and even sharper sun rays around his large, flat face, but you think you recognize those yellow eyes—a living cartoon.

He helps you calm down and asks for your name in a loud and funny voice that rings like a bell in your mind but you can't name the tune. You don't remember your name. He doesn't remember his either. He leads you away from the harsher spaces of the studio, somewhere 'safer'. You don't know if there is anything as safe, but you feel better with him.

You're startled when after a time, in the middle of talking to this sunshine character, he melts and morphs and bubbles until a crescent moon face emerges and a new grin. You panic before a darker, raspier voice, like a cartoon villain, tells you it's alright. He's here, too. He's not sure what's going on but he, and the other 'him', and you are gonna make it out of here, somehow.

You don't have hope anywhere else but in this unique robot jester, and he seems to want you to stay close to him. So it's you two, the last sane partnership in the crazed and dripping studios, fighting off ink creatures and surviving other bizarre characters. You learn how to wield a gent pipe and the jester is strong on his own, often able to tear things apart or toss monsters off of you before they can do worse. He has claws and teeth and he uses them well.

Vanny is a lady rabbit and a constant threat. She's smart and cunning, unlike the other mostly senseless attackers. She keeps tracking the two of you down and spouting off the religious rhetoric of Inktrap, promising that your sacrifices will be well worth the pain. You had to be introduced to the cycle. The ink has corrupted you perfectly. You are part of this place. You are never leaving and will give in to Inktrap.

You and he avoid Inktrap at all costs. You've only caught glimpses of the shadowy, pitch-black beast, but that's all you need to see as you both hide and hold your breaths until the danger just barely passes by.

You start to call the daytime jester Sun, and he seems to respond to it. The nighttime joker is Moon, and he neither hates nor loves it, but he answers when you call. He has a name for you, too, or rather names. Peach, bird, thrill, calico, and sweetheart. He gets creative and goofy. You think he's being mean sometimes but he tells you he's not, he means it, and you don't know how to take that before you two have to focus on escaping this part of the studio and getting into safer areas. You protect his back and he protects yours, and together, you make this living, unending nightmare bearable. Sharing bacon soup, falling asleep in Moon's lap, and patching up any drips in Sun's inky form becomes something like a life.

It just never stops, repeating over and over. The jester deserves better than this, whatever happened to him. You know you both do.

You become determined to learn how the cycle works and how to prevent it from going on. There's a funny feeling you have that, somehow, you're going to have to go through Vanny and the Inkdemon. One day, you will get the jester and yourself free.

You need to see his and your happy ending.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a list of some spring movies/series 🌷

spring is here!! and so is your friendly neighbourhood little organisation freak of a goblin to give you a list of some spring movies and series. as always, just close your eyes and point somewhere on this little list, or even put the numbers in a generator and go with whatever the result is ♡

summer | autumn | winter

🐝 ‧₊˚ ⋅ movies ⋅˚₊‧

mary poppins (1964)

the sound of music (1965)

aristocats (1970)

alla vi barn i bullerbyn (1986)

my neighbour totoro (1988)

kiki's delivery service (1989)

a league of their own (1992)

the secret garden (1993)

pride and prejudice (1995/2005)

whisper of the heart (1995)

clueless (1995)

my best friend’s wedding (1997)

parent trap (1998)

10 things i hate about you (1999)

notting hill (1999)

she's all that (1999)

but i’m a cheerleader (1999)

bring it on (2000)

miss congeniality (2000)

spiritied away (2001)

the wedding planner (2001)

legally blonde (2001)

princess diaries (2001 + 2004)

spy kids (2001-2003)

maid in manhatten (2002)

bend it like beckham (2002)

tuck everlasting (2002)

school of rock (2003)

how to lose a guy in 10 days (2003)

something’s gotta give (2003)

13 going on 30 (2004)

finding neverland (2004)

howl’s moving castle (2004)

saving face (2004)

the notebook (2004)

imagine me and you (2005)

nanny mcphee (2005)

penelope (2006)

miss potter (2006)

step up (2006)

she’s the man (2006)

bridge to terabithia (2007)

enchanted (2007)

atonement (2007)

stardust (2007)

ps i love you (2007)

wild child (2008)

made of honour (2008)

ondine (2009)

bride wars (2009)

valentine’s day (2010)

tangled (2010)

leap year (2010)

easy a (2010)

from up on poppy hill (2011)

jane eyre (2011)

crazy, stupid, love (2011)

what to expect when you’re expecting (2012)

remember sunday (2013)

saving mr banks (2013)

about time (2013)

now you see me (2013 + 2016)

love, rosie (2014)

testament of youth (2014)

kingsman (2014-)

paddington (2014 + 2017)

far from the madding crowd (2015)

burnt (2015)

brooklyn (2015)

cinderella (2015)

the man from u.n.c.l.e. (2015)

lady chatterley's lover (2015/2022)

creed franchise (2015-2023)

me before you (2016)

mother’s day (2016)

this beautiful fantastic (2016)

the light between oceans (2016)

paterson (2016)

how to be single (2016)

hidden figures (2016)

gifted (2017)

dunkirk (2017)

ocean’s eight (2018)

life itself (2018)

peter rabbit (2018)

christopher robin (2018)

tomb raider (2018)

set it up (2018)

crazy rich asians (2018)

spider-verse movies (2018-)

1917 (2019)

the art of racing in the rain (2019)

can you keep a secret? (2019)

booksmart (2019)

someone great (2019)

endings, beginnings (2019)

emma (2020)

enola holms (2020-)

the last letter from your lover (2021)

the world to come (2021)

🌼 ‧₊˚ ⋅ series ⋅˚₊‧

little house on the prairie (1974-1983)

moomin valley (1990-1992)

greys anatomy (2005-)

gossip girl (2007-2012)

skins (2007-2013)

the great british bake off (2010-)

new girl (2011-2018)

brooklyn nine-nine (2013-2021)

the fosters (2013-2018)

the 100 (2014-2020)

jane the virgin (2014-2019)

outlander (2014-)

grace and frankie (2015-2022)

poldark (2015-2019)

critical role (2015-)

howards end (2017)

girlboss (2017)

she's gotta have it (2017-2019)

the bold type (2017-2021)

mr. sunshine (2018)

queer eye (2018-)

crash landing into you (2019)

the witcher (2019-)

dickinson (2019-2021)

sex education (2019-2023)

bridgerton (2020-)

ted lasso (2020-2023)

nevertheless (2021)

abbott elementary (2021-)

flatshare (2022)

[writingoddess1125]

Deal with the Devil

This is honestly just a Comedy no idea what this is 🤣

GNReader x AU Demon Buggy

Art Belongs to Vamos_MK on Twitter!

If you like Click Here <-

"You Fucking Asshole!" (Y/N) screamed, Tossing their phone across the room as you stood there.

Your Rotten Bastard of a Boyfriend- Best to say Ex now!

You'd done everything for him.. wrote his resume, got him job interviews, washed his crusty underwear!

He had wrecked your apartment, drained your saving all for what? The hope of God damn magic!

Yes Fucking magic-

He was a pinterest board having Half ass 'Witch' that claimed he was of a Witch blood line.

Maybe it was that Witch bloodline that lead him to stick his dick in some random as twink at the Bar!

"Fuck You!" You screamed in the air, sobbing as you rushed to your liquor cabinet- It wasn't like you had much but you grabbed the quarter bottle of vodka and the rum. It would do-

Playing terrible break up music you drank away your sorrows- Sobbing hysterically into your carpeted livingroom floor as you finished the vodka, You tossing the empty bottle across the room causing it to shatter.

Stumbling up, you waddle to the kitchen- in state deciding a cup was finally smart-

In you drunken stooper you grabbed a 711 cup from the counter wanting to pour more booze in it- but pausing when you saw it. Your EX's book of shadows- Aka a Dollar Tree Notebook were he stashed his stupid spells and random pages he pirated from the internet. Picking it up and getting ready to throw it in the trash with the rest of your EX's shit when you finally sober up-

But opened it randomly seeing a folded up peice of paper tucked I to the sides. Rolling your eyes you open it and see a well worn page, however it wasn't ancient by any means- the witches.com emblem in the corner cluing you in to that. But in big bold letters on the top said 'SUMMON A DEMON TO DO YOUR BIDDING!' Easy how to guide.

Fuck it- What did you have to lose! Your drunken hazy mind reasoned. Flicking the Dollar Tree book to an random page and tossing it down on the coffee table-

Looking through you saw the ingredients needed. Food, A liquid, lighter, a Vessel and DNA. Chuckling at the rather basic guide you plopped down and poured off a quarter of your bottle of Rum in the 711 cup-

"We recommend 'moon water'- Welp you're getting Captian Morgan-" You laugh as you pour more of the rum into your mouth, hissing at its burn as you look at the next instructions.

"Alright food- We recommend a herb or item you have a dee- fuck that" You grumble looking around and seeing some leftovers from the corner store. Taking the stale hotdog that had been on your table far too long.

"Fuck it- A hotdog will do" You said with a cackle as you shoved it into the cup without care.

"Now play music to set your intent-" You read, Laughing at the weirdness of this all.

"Music huh! Then we shall play the song of my God damn love life!"

With a crying laugh, you opening up your music app and playing what felt appropriate- Circus Music.

"Now last add DNA- May it be hair, Blood, nails. Ha! Yeah right. Got your DNA right here-" You say and spit into the 711 cup like a redneck spitting chew.

(DONT DO THIS AT HOME) after this you look at the instructions- 'Light the alcohol on fire and focus on your intentions' Pulling a lighter out you set the alcohol ablaze and sat there letting the circus music and smell of burning plastic and hotdogs fill your senses.

'I want to get fucked up and beat up a fucking loser!-' Was the only thing you thought before starting to feel yourself starting to black out. Not noticing the flames beginning to burn a bright blue as the shadows of the room wirled around you and took a solid mass.

Soon a shadowy figure eclipsed your form as a the smell of candy apples filled the room.

"HOW ARE YOU SUMMON THE GREAT AND MIGHTY BUGGY THE CLOWN DE-...." He stopped during his monolog and stared at his summoner- passed out on the couch infront of the coffee table while holding the now out lighter used to summon him and a half burned plastic cup, slouched over in a clearly drunken stooper and groaning loudly from discomfort. Waving his hand it detached and tossed the dirty cup into the sink noting the piles of moldy dishes that stopped the fire- Buggy glanced around now, noticing the dirty apartment and disgusting everything of the place.

He cringed at the sight- Looking to you and shaking your shoulder to catch your attention.

"Oi- You. Please tell me you aren't the fucker who summoned me-" He begged, watching you roll your head around confused stating up at the man before you. He wore what looked like a pirate get up- with a bright cherry nose and bright blue hair that reminded you of the sea-

You opened your mouth, prepared to tell this dude to get out of your house- Before that oh so familiar feeling hit you and you puked all over his pants and shoes in a aray of alcohol and chips.

The man giving a short scream at this as he stood there petrified.

"I'm sorry-" You managed before passing out. Leaving the clown standing there with a look of total disgust on his face as he stared at the fresh vomit all over him.

"YOUVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

[ramayantika]

Chaand chuppa badal mein...

Krishna and Bhaishmi are back. Enjoyyyyyy

Krishna and I have regularly stayed in touch with each other after the train took me away from him and the serene temple towns of Mathura and Vrindavan. We talk a lot on text and sometimes on call in the late hours of the night. I have to quietly sneak out to the balcony. If I am lucky, I get to go to the terrace without waking my parents up. If I am luckier, our schedules match our free time in the evening, and I get to call him in the quiet hours of the evening.

I chose humanities. Ranvit and Bhumi had to pursue science even though Ranvit likes art more. Bhumi was indecisive about what subjects to learn, but she fares well enough in science and mathematics than her brother and me, so she decided to go for the science stream.

Ranvit has to struggle a lot in physics and math though. He takes out his stress through painting and reading about Indian art. One thing I am happy about him is that he did not let go of his art, nor did my uncle and aunt force him to abandon his hobbies. Their condition: “Pursue science. Get admission into a decent engineering college and then keep doing whatever hobby makes you happy. But science and engineering.”

As for me, class ten mathematics had given me enough nightmares. I did well in science, but I had no interest in pursuing it in more detail for the next two years. Those monkey problems from Ranvit’s physics book and large derivations on Bhumi’s notebook had me in shivers. Maasi supports me choosing humanities though, but would never want her children to pursue anything apart from science.

Ranvit and I are in class twelve now. We have our boards and entrance exams next year. Bhumi is new to class eleven but she is able to handle her subjects well enough, better than Ranvit though.

“Busy looking at the moon…?” Krishna’s honeyed voice draws my attention from the golden full moon beaming right back at me. I breathe deeply and sigh. A sheepish smile forms on my lips, and I place my phone on my left ear. “Uh... sorry, but you are right. How did you figure out?”

I can hear his smile through the breath that escapes his lips on the phone call. He is outside too — perhaps staring at the same moon with me.

“I have a golden moon dangling down the dark sky too, but there is somebody else who is ethereal than the moon whom I would like to see, but my fate doesn’t support that.” He sighs. It is a dramatic one. “Guess, I will have to make do with this golden ball of light.”

My cheeks warm and I smile. It is actually a full-fledged grin with my eyes imagining how he would look saying all that in front of me.

I can easily picture a charming lazy smile and a hand moving through his soft wavy locks while he leans closer to me and tucks my hair behind my ear.

A realization strikes me as my eyes glance at the gleaming moon once again. I am badly whipped for this guy.

“Bhaishmi?” I hear him question.

“Yes. I am here only. Am I audible?”

“Did I get you flustered?”

“Shut up.”

“Yay!”

“You are an idiot.”

“Only for you.”

We don’t say anything for a minute. I can hear him breathing. It is a faint sound, though. I like this comfortable silence. I do not feel restless to hold a conversation forcibly.

Krishna’s voice from the other side enters my ear. “I composed a new tune.” He pauses for a brief second before continuing. “I would like you to hear it.”

My heart picks its pace. It has been a while since I have heard him play flute to me. The last time it happened, we were on the terrace at Yashodhara’s house before we left for our separate ways.

“I would love to.”

“Wow. Cool. I will quickly fetch it. By the way,” I hear a tone of hesitancy in his voice, “are you okay if I play it to you on video call?”

I slap my palm over my lips to contain my excited laughter. Breathing in deeply, I nod and reply, “Yes. I am alone at my society’s terrace.”

“Okay!” He drags ‘okay’ with happiness for ten seconds and disconnects the voice call.

A minute later, my screen lights up with a pretty aesthetic profile photo of Krishna. I slide the green call sign upwards and receive the call.

An excited Krishna waves at me before placing the phone on his table. It is 11.30 PM and he looks as fresh as a lily flower, with a good outfit on top. A cream polo shirt with half sleeves that proudly boasted his toned arms and dark blue trousers.

I fan my face, pretending that I am adjusting my loose hair from my ponytail. After all, he can’t make out that I am fanning invisible hair strands around my face.

He sits on his chair and pushes himself along with the chair slightly backwards to place himself and his flute in the frame, his flute placed near his lips, a place I had been to a year before. The fateful kiss on the evening of Holi seared through my memory, and I blinked hard to bring my focus back on Krishna.

“Ready?” He asks.

I nod quietly while hiding my blush at witnessing the handsome sight in front of me.

He begins by playing a single note that sounds meditative to me. It is a slow but soothing beginning. I can imagine the moon and the cool breeze blowing around me. A few more slow music tunes flow through his flute, and I observe his face.

Krishna always appears so serene while playing the flute. He is at peace. Each of his facial muscles lie in a relaxed state except the slight curl of his lip. It appears like a soft subtle knowing smile, like that of a talented artist well aware of his craft and the hold he has over his cherished audience.

This time he plays a slow melody, as if taking time to express each emotion through every note. The rise and fall in volume and scale expresses a story of its own. It is hypnotizing.

There is yearning, loads of it. The tunes tug at my heart, as if calling my name. Krishna gently sways. It is a graceful motion. Well, Krishna is perfection incarnate. He is a natural performer.

My eyes close on their own. I can see myself dancing in my head to his music. I once dreamt that I was dancing to his music, only for him, for his eyes to see me and my art, just like he played the flute to me those two nights, only for me.

The yearning melody transforms to a slightly fun tune, as if teasing a beloved to proclaim their love, until it begins expressing bashfulness and devotion. God, he was truly a talented artist. He ought to be on bigger stage shows than post some one minute videos on Instagram and play his genius tunes for my ears to listen.

At one point, the music peaks. I feel my eyes moisten and my heart full with nostalgia, yearning and may I add this secretly: Love. A very tender love blooming like a lotus in the early hours of the morning when its warm golden rays caress its petals, coaxing it awake very gently.

It ends and my eyes fly open. I smile — this time not out of shyness, but of genuine admiration. I wonder if he can see my glazed eyes.

“Oh my, are you crying?”

I shrug my shoulders and blink those tears away. “Have I told you that your music is very moving? It easily makes someone too attached to it. It is like a spell.”

This time Krishna smiles shyly and scratches the back of his head. “Glad you liked it.”

Liked? The word loved too would be an understatement. I don’t say that out loud though. I answer with one of my pretty smiles.

Krishna twirls the flute around his fingers when I see him lean closer towards the screen, his eyebrows furrowed as if trying to focus on something. “Are you wearing my peacock chain?”

I pick the pecock pendant around my neck. “Yes, I keep it around my neck most of the time.”

“So, you still wear it every day.”

I nod with a hum and fiddle with the pendant. It used to be a part of Krishna’s beloved flute until he decided that it would better suit as a parting gift for a girl he met on a train than a beautiful adornment for his musical companion.

His eyes go thoughtful instead of the slightly smug playful expression he bears to mess with my heart with his relentless flirty lines. Krishna’s lips curl beautifully upwards. He is smiling to himself and I don’t question him why.

I know the answer to it.

He brings himself near to his phone. I can see more of his pretty face with more clarity. “The gods did hear my prayer after a long time. I got to see my girl prettier than the moon.”

Rolling my eyes, I reply, “Your flattery continues even though it is past midnight.” Secretly, I preen when I hear him say ‘my girl.’

I am a simple girl. I hear a sweet and charming guy call me as his; I melt into a puddle.

“Flattery for you, sweetheart. For me, it is the truth.”

And like that, my friends, I go quiet except the thudding heart inside my chest.

“So, how are you up this late, Bhaishmi,” He asks, tilting his head. “Your mother makes you sleep by this time.”

Shifting my phone towards my other hand, I flex my right hand a little to ease the stiffness in my wrist and answer, “My parents are out of town. They are visiting a relative’s wedding and will be back a day after tomorrow.”

Krishna’s dark eyes widen in surprise. “So, you are home alone for two whole days.”

Mustering up some courage, I add, “And two whole nights.”

He places his cheek on his palm. He looks like a lovesick fool, a very adorable one at that as he asks, “So, no interruption for two whole nights?”

“Nope.”

He hoots loudly before looking alarmingly at the door. Turning back towards me, he says softly, “Head back to your room then Bhaishmi. You are alone and you must not linger around late at night, especially on a dark terrace.”

I get up from my spot and walk towards the door. My hand accidentally hits the steel door. It creaks in an eerie tone, making the both of us jump.

I jog down the stairs with light feet as images of terrifying ghosts chasing me fill my head, and rush inside my warm cozy room.

“Did you lock the door properly?” Krishna asks.

I nod while curling myself in my cozy pink coloured blanket. My eyes close at the comfort surrounding me followed by the urge to fall asleep right away thanks to the mental exhaustion of being up late at nights for studies and projects for my school.

“Should we do a virtual sleepover thingy? You are sleepy.” Krishna points out.

I laugh and lay my head on my fluffy pillow. “I don’t have enough data pack for that.”

Krishna walks to his bed and covers himself with his blanket. His voice goes soft. He should sing me some lullabies, and I would fall asleep like a baby.

“Go to sleep, Bhaishmi. Try visiting me in my dreams.” He says with a teasing grin.

I smile in content instead of blushing hard. His face and his beautiful eyes are the last thing I see before my call screen changes to my lock screen wallpaper.

A ping awakens my tired eyes. My screen lights up.

“Goodnight Bhaishmi❤️. Sweet dreams.” There is a heart emoji beside my name. It is a red heart this time.

I wonder if he accidentally sent the red heart, since we generally stick to pink and blue ones.

Another ping.

“I will try to visit you in your dreams ;)” He adds a winking emoticon and a laughing emoji.

I grin and press my palm to my forehead before sending a text.

‘Goodnight Krishna 🩷🩷’

I don’t mention the part where I tell him that he has been in my dreams quite often.

--xxx---

Taglist: @ma-douce-souffrance (idk if you are using tumblr. you still haven't read the full series for this, but i am tagging in case you find this in the future hehe byeee) @jessbeinme15 @manwalaage @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic (hii sakhii) @krishna-priyatama @krsnaradhika

I kinda forgot the taglist for this fic. Many have different user ids now. Let me know if you all want to be tagged for krishna fics

[daftpatience]

overcomplicated analysis of kim kitsuragi’s notebook because im autistic!

i was reading thru the footnotes of his wiki page because i am a completely normal human being and i had some thoughts that led me to buying some stationery and drawing some headcanons today so i wanna INFODUMP!

the name mnemotechnique caught my attention immediately. one of my favourite brands of notebook has a similar name - maruman mnemosyne - i can only assume that this is a reference to the brand name. (coincidentally this supports my fountain pen headcanon as these books are some of my favourite paper to use fountain pens on!!) btw! mnemosyne is the goddess of memory, and mnemotechnique is the french word for mnemonics; the practice of making things easier to remember via patterns!

this reference is supported by the ring binding on the item icon in game, and the fact that it’s one of the more affordable ~nice~ notebook brands out there.

it looks like a bit more is going on in the game artwork though. it’s somewhat bigger than A6 compared to that pen, even in the overworld model. (lets just blame the fact that its *slightly* bigger on that no one actually need bother with that level of detail. a book much bigger than a6 in a breast pocket is just too heavy. it’d pull on his jacket too much), and there’s that weird metal thing on the top. i’m imagining the art people were trying to get it to match harry’s ledger. we could assume kim’s notebook has a binder clip accessory?

the inside of the cover is yellow, which is very similar to mnemosyne’s traditionally yellow endpapers, which further cements the mnemosyne reference:

the official merchandise is a book that is similar to a moleskine or a leuchtturm journal, the blue cover matches the overworld model. im inclined to think this is simply because of ease of manufacturing these styles of book, it’s even a more default A5 size instead of the smaller A6 it should be.

my little tiny thesis to gather all of these facts in a satisfying manner to me is as such: he has a ring bound notebook, real world equivalent being the mnemosyne, but with a jacket similar to a hobonichi:

this covers the extra details like the two pen clips and the possibility of tucking away some accessories like the binder clip. on top of that it makes a lot of sense, considering a notebook cover is strong, protects a notebook that can easily be filled up and swapped out, and also has little pockets inside which of course are very handy. he’d like that.

sorry for the long post i just am having an autismbrained day and i love stationery so much. my blorbo has my favourite notebook and im making you all know it

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 when a spell goes wrong and they're stuck as a small child for a day

Reverse scenario is here:

~ to set the scene ~

It's been a while since your little mishap with your notebook and spell development. At this point, your day as a toddler has become a funny story to share with guests over dinner. You're reminiscing on it early one morning as you lie awake next to your slumbering beloved. You never did figure out exactly what was going on with that circle. You decide to flip through your notebook and take another look at it while you wait for your darling to wake up.

As you're reading back over it, you feel them stir next to you. "MC? What are you looking at?" Still half asleep, they reach over to pull you closer, but instead their hand falls flat against the page. One bright light later, you're gazing over wide-eyed at the small child rubbing their eyes next to you.

(I've included the official art of child!Julian, Asra, Muriel, and Portia. Unfortunately there's no game art for child!Nadia or Lucio, but I was able to get sketches from the old livestreams. Enjoy! - brainrot)

Julian

Figures out his predicament almost immediately. From the way you're looking at him to how small his hands suddenly are, he knows

What neither of you expects is the pipsqueak voice that comes out of him when he opens his mouth to talk to you

"MC, I - ah! Is that my voice?!"

He's going to spend the next hour while you make and eat breakfast trying to figure out the funniest thing to say in a child's voice, ranging from his extensive knowledge of curse words to lectures on medicine to warbling ancient Vesuvian operas

Malak thinks it's fantastic. He's following nearby, cawing along to whatever Julian has to say

You end up putting him in one of his normal dress shirts, which looks like a dress on him now, and using a scarf for a sash

He'll get bored rather quickly - all of his favorite activities are off the table until he's an adult again

You remember him mentioning living with his parents on one of their merchant ships as a boy though, so you take him down to the docks

A couple polite requests later, and several of the sailors agree to let him explore their ships as long as he doesn't get underfoot

It's a special time for him, running around a ship with the same perspective that he had when his parents were alive. It unearths some memories he had previously forgotten and that makes him so happy

You also had Malak take a message up to the palace inviting Portia down (you didn't want to risk losing Julian in the crowd in the trek up) and she arrives just in time for lunch with Mazelinka in tow

Portia absolutely gets misty-eyed seeing her brother like this again, she always used to think he was so grown-up next to her but realizing he was just a child too is doing things to her heart

You'll have a late lunch on the beach together before heading back to his house

Since all three of them are feeling nostalgic, Julian, Portia, and Mazelinka will pass the afternoon reminiscing on what life was like the last time he looked like this

They leave before the sun sets - they have lives to get back to, and you have dinner to prepare

The first thing he does after poofing back is bellow out a raunchy sea shanty and hunt down the liquor he's been saving in the back of the cabinet. He missed being an adult

Asra

They knew what has happening as it happened, they saw their palm landing on the spell circle and had resigned themselves to the outcome before the light had faded

The first thing he does is take full advantage of his new size to snuggle up on your chest and fall back asleep

And hey, it's several hours before their normal wake-up time, and it's not like you'll be able to do anything else today, so you fall back asleep too

When you re-awaken it's to a suspiciously quiet house

When you find him he's tucked away in a corner with Faust, scheming brainstorming about the opportunities his temporary shift affords him

You're able to distract them with breakfast, but it quickly becomes obvious that their attention span is considerably shorter and their sense of propriety considerably less inhibiting than their adult form

Cue a wild game of chase around the closed shop, Faust watching gleefully from the rafters as Asra keeps setting off latent spells just to watch your reactions before scampering off in a fit of giggles

They're surprisingly docile once you catch them though, as soon as you've got your arms around them they're cuddling up. You've never held a snugglier child

There's also the issue of clothes - none of his clothes fit, and he couldn't care less. You end up tying a shawl around him and knotting it in the back where he can't reach to take it off when it hinders his freedom of movement

If you need to have a serious conversation with them it's entirely possible, they're just living in the moment

You manage to pack a lunch and take him over to Aisha and Salim's

To say they're overjoyed is an understatement. They missed so much of Asra's childhood and growing up, and you've just given them several hours of that back

For the first fifteen minutes or so, he's got his guard up a little. It takes a lot of vulnerability to revisit that stage in life, with the parents he so keenly felt the loss of

But then one of them cracks an inside joke, and all the emotional walls come tumbling down

You get to spend the rest of the day getting a glimpse into the past, of what their family was like before the hard times started

You're also relieved that you're not the only one responsible for keeping them in check

As soon as he poofs back, he's waving goodbye and heading out the door with you. He misses his kisses

Nadia

She realizes a split second after you do, and she is Not Impressed

She's spent most of her life trying to outrun being perceived as the baby of the family, and now here she is - a baby!

She's not upset with you though, she knows if there's anyone to blame it's her for touching the page like that and the look on your face says you didn't mean to

She also knows that there's still Vesuvia to run - oh well, it looks like she'll be taking a vacation

She's standing on the bed, robe pulled around her, arms crossed over her tiny rib cage as she gives directions for her absence

You're quickly realizing that her sense of authority didn't come from ruling Vesuvia - it's clear she was just born with it

Finding a good outfit for her to wear is also quite difficult. She knows it's last minute, but one of the ways she combats her own insecurities is by appearing as put together as possible at all times

You're not sure what to do at first. You know the last thing she wants is to be in touch with her family right now, and she'll get bored quickly if she just stays inside her chambers with you

Luckily for you, she knows exactly what she wants to do - and that is everything that she wasn't allowed to do the last time she was this size

She's leading the way to the stables and getting ready to ride off into the sunset before you can blink

It quickly gets tiresome though. She was already sneaking off the last time she was this age, and she already knows all the area around the palace

Your wave of inspiration hits as it gets close to lunchtime. She's always wanted an incognito tour or Vesuvia. This is the perfect chance

She's immediately for the idea. She was never allowed to do this as a kid, and it's something she still struggles to get away with

You find her some every day kid's clothes in the marketplace and spend the afternoon wandering the streets, giving her a taste of the "real" Vesuvia

By the time you're heading back to the palace as the sun sets, her whole perspective about the day has shifted. She might ask you to do this again, if she needs to do something undercover

She chooses to wait until after poofing back to have dinner. After the day she's had, she wants her Golden Goose

She eventually agrees to let you tell parts of the story to her family members. Watching their reactions helps remind her that they did not look down on her, but truthfully admired her as a kid

Muriel

Completely frozen. It's up to you to make the first move

He understands what happened as soon as it happens, but he's in denial about it

He'll only start moving once you ask him if he's okay, if anything hurts, if he can talk, etc

The sudden levels of attention you're showing him will spur him to action and then he'll start responding again, shifting around and pulling the shirt he's drowning in closer around his shoulders

You'll probably end up tucking him back in bed and suggesting he rest and get over the shock a little more while you prepare breakfast. He'll agree because he's not sure what else to do

It really hits home with him when he sits down to a full, hot meal at the small table with you. You accidentally prepared the amount that the two of you normally eat and he doesn't remember ever having a full stomach at this age

You'll watch him wolf down his plate and then pause, struggling between the instinct to eat while there is food and the desire to savor having more food than he can eat

The morning continues like that, with him silently processing all the ways his life has changed for the better from his childhood's perspective

There is a funny moment with the chickens when it's time to feed them, of course

They've had to wait a few extra hours, so as soon as they hear the feed bucket they're charging at you twice as aggressively as normal

Now that he's small, they don't seem as tiny to him any more, and the hungry chicken avalanche leaves him a little shaken

You decide to give him a day as quiet and pleasant and safe as he deserved as a kid

You'll pack a big lunch of his favorites and go on a quiet stroll through the woods, listening to the bird song and admiring the plants

It's a strange experience for him because he's so used to being the biggest thing in the woods that having to look up at stuff is weird, and slightly frightening

On the other hand, the different vantage point has him noticing all kinds of details that never stood out to him before

Eating your packed lunch together in fields where the grass grows above his head is surreal. Being able to lie down next to you and know that only you and the sky and birds can see him is liberating

When he poofs back after returning to the hut, it's the first time he's felt truly thankful for his size. He can protect you better like this, now that he's been reminded of what the world can be like when you're small

Portia

It takes her a second. She hit the notebook instead of your face because her curls were in her eyes, and they're still in her eyes, but why are her arms so short when she pushes them out of her face?

Whoah, you've turned into a giant. Scratch that, everything is big now, that means she must have shrunk

Now she's spotting the notebook in your hand and the shock on your face, and her own voice confirms it

"MC, I just set off a spell, didn't I?"

You're nodding slowly, watching her carefully stand up and look around

When she turns back to you, it's with an all-too-familiar look of mischief

"This bed is huge when I'm this size! I don't have to worry about breaking it at all!"

She's bouncing on the bed, shrieking with laughter and giggling, and all you can feel is relief that she sees the mishap as a good thing

She'll ask you to send a message giving her the day off of work, of course, and then she'll start brainstorming things to do while she chases a very confused Pepi around the house

"Do you think they'll give me pastries if I ask nicely since I'm so small now? You have to admit I'm pretty cute. I bet I could ask for anything!"

So. Much. Energy. You end up leaving her to her own devices while you get breakfast together, and by the time she sits down to eat she's already deconstructed the entire living room

All of her shirts have wide necklines and don't stay up on her tiny form, so you have to put her in one of your own with a ribbon for a sash. Good luck trying to tie up her curls

You decide to take her into town for the day, on the condition that she not let go of your hand. You both agree eventually to tie a ribbon around her wrist for you to hold on to just in case

You're able to find her clothes that fit, and get a read on Julian's most likely location

As soon as you find him and he spots Portia, he is one smiling mess. So much of his identity is wrapped up in trying to be a good older brother to her, and now he has the chance to do that as an adult

He'll put her up on his shoulders and the three of you will saunter through all the fun parts of town, getting into all the best kinds of trouble

You'll get a summons from Nadia as well for afternoon tea. She wants to see one of her best friends as a child too

When Portia poofs back that evening all the exhaustion will hit her at once like a wave. This day will become one of her fondest memories

Lucio

Is convinced that you're just playing mind games to make the world look bigger than it is until you show him the notebook and explain that it's the same spell that hit you previously

He's a little panicked now. He's been able to survive this long because he was strong and vicious, and when he needed your help his big thing to contribute was his ability to protect you

What if you decide to leave because he can't protect you like this? He couldn't blame you, after the past you unearthed with him he knows you know exactly who he is and sometimes it's hard to believe you love him anyways

You can recognize those wide eyes and trembling lips anywhere, the first thing you're doing is pulling him into a hug

The hug does him in, Morga was never the affectionate type and being held in a such a safe embrace when he feels so small makes him fall apart a little

Will deny any and all emotional vulnerability. He has a reputation to uphold, dammit

You'll get him situated with one of his shirts and a scrapped together sash. He's too busy marveling at having both arms again to complain about it not being stylish

Quickly realizes from your reactions to his requests that he is in fact adorable in this form. Contrary to your expectations, he doesn't mind that at all

It's also becoming more and more apparent that the child-likeness is affecting him. It turns out his obsessive love of partying comes from a very playful nature

If you're on a job at the time, you'll decide to make it a travel day

He'll find a stick to use as his sword and tuck it into his sash since you've temporarily confiscated the real one

He's running circles around you, yelling his little boy's heart out, scrambling up every large rock you pass so you can compliment his climbing skills

Each time you praise him he'll flush, his normally sharp smile softer with the baby fat on his cheeks and his scrawny chest all puffed up with pride. Being a kid around someone who lets him actually act like one is the best thing that's ever happened to him

And that's how most of the day passes, traveling a bit slower than usual through nature, listening to his breathless story telling as he fights off imaginary beasts with his wooden sword and kissing the bumps and scrapes he gets so they heal better

He begins to get a little scared when night falls, because he knows his golden day is about to come to an end

So as soon as he poofs back, you pull him back into your arms so he knows you will always be there to hold him, no matter the state he's in

[dahliaslove]

Can I get Stu, and Michael Myers (separate) with a fem!s/o who often draws them? Like, it can range from her drawing them doing simple things like sitting, eating, watching TV. But, she also draws them off on kills, covered in blood….maybe even nsfw drawings?????

SLASHERS W/ A GF WHO LIKES TO DRAW THEM

⭑ authors note: i didn’t add any extras to this one because once again i am feeling lazy!! so i hope these are somewhat decent 😣💔

⭑ warnings: one mention of blood and knives, me using the word flabbergasted for fun, a singular mention of having dirty sweaty sex with stu (but no details because i’m a menace), this is kinda crappy because i rushed it but that’s about it

⭑ characters: michael myers and stu macher

MICHAEL MYERS

- michael definitely notices you scribbling away in a notebook whenever you’re around him but i feel like he would ignore it and only silently judge you for it because he’s too lazy to be nosy

- if you show him any of your drawings that aren’t of him he would probably just sit in silence and nod his approval (he’s obviously not the chattiest guy in the world yk?)

- i think that he would find out that you’re drawing him by going into your room while you’re sleeping (he’s a creep) and just finding some drawings of him laying around on your desk

- he would absolutely flip through your notebook when he finds out that you’ve been drawing him and he would be low key impressed by your drawings and maybe even a little smug under his mask

- of course since he’s looking through your whole notebook he will stop and be absolutely flabbergasted once he sees any inappropriate drawings of him (ignore my use of ‘flabbergasted’, my friend recently taught me it and i find it fun to use)

- he would probably just sit hunched over in silence for a while looking through those, he would definitely feel flattered in a strange way, like you think he looks like that?

- especially if your art of him is in a cool style or uses color in a unique way. i feel he would like if you did one black and white drawing of him where the only color you bring in is red for the blood that he’s constantly covered in

- he would especially be proud of the ones that show him during and after his kills, and would like the action shots the most. i’m sorry but if he sees a cool one of him slashing his knife during a kill he is definitely tearing that out and keeping it in his own little hiding spot (as an artist this hurt me, as a romantic this made me feel nice)

- if you try to talk to him about him taking some of the drawings he will just turn around and walk away in silence (he is embarrassed and doesn’t want to show it)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

STU MACHER

- he is a very nosey guy so as soon as he sees you with your nose tucked into your sketchbook he’s attempting to take it out of your hands to look in it. and once he gets it he’s hopping on a counter or desk to give him more height so he can hold it over your head and poke fun at you

- absolutely flips through it in front of you and just takes a seat to really enjoy any embarrassment you might be feeling. as soon as he finds any drawings of him he is going to tease the hell out of you with a wicked grin

- he’d probably say something like “wow babe! you’ve really captured my rugged good looks” and as soon as he finds any drawings of him as ghostface??? he will seriously be debating purposing to you (he’s whipped)

- will 100% brag to billy about how he has an ‘artist gf who draws amazing’ billy would probably get annoyed very easily by this and tell stu to shut up and he would just be like >:}

- don’t even get me started on him finding any sexual drawings you drew of him. his teasing will get a million times worse and he will pop an instant boner. oh my god and if there’s any sexual ones of him in his ghostface costume?? he would go absolutely feral.

- let’s all be honest right now, stu would just pin you to the nearest surface and have the sweatiest and most dirty sex ever with you, because he’s just that unhinged.

- after all this he’s probably asking you a silly question like if you can draw him doing a backflip because he thinks it’d be cool to see himself do that for some reason ??

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[wolfxplush]

Caught Lead Handed

Small one shot of Oscar and Lovette cause I’d find their friendship funny!!!

Oscar belongs to @lyalyagushkina

It was late in the afternoon, and the last few rays of sun streamed through the classroom windows of bullsworth academy, most of the students had cleared out, leaving a faint hum of chatter fading down the hallway from the remaining cliques having some last minute activities or calmer bullies shaking down the stray nerds dumb enough to stay late. The only sound now was the scratching of chalk on the blackboard as the prefect, Lovette , finished tidying up the classroom for the day. She had a reputation for being no-nonsense—sharp, disciplined, and with a near-permanent look of annoyance etched on her face. Earning the nickname The Bear among the other prefects due to her likeness of one.

As she moved between the rows of desks, she noticed something strange. A few loose papers were strewn carelessly across the surface of one desk, left behind in the rush to leave. With a heavy sigh, Lovette bent down to gather them up, expecting to find some crumpled-up math homework or a forgotten essay. But when she turned the first page over, her eyes widened in disbelief.

There, in crude pencil sketches, were detailed drawings of naked women—amateurish but undeniably bold. She flipped through the pages, each one more daring than the last. Her jaw clenched, and her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. What kind of idiot would leave these sitting out?

She didn’t need to look far to find the culprit.She had felt with this type of stuff before, all tracing back to one of the school’s resident greasers. Oscar.

"Of course, it’s him,"Lovette muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she tucked the papers under her arm. She stormed out of the classroom, her footsteps echoing in the empty hall as she sniffed out her prey.

Oscar was leaning casually against the lockers just outside, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, nose deep into his notebook sketching away. His hands smudged with pencil lead from the pencil he held tightly in his grip. The same pencil he slammed shut in his notebook once he heard Lovette approach.

“Lovette!" Oscar drawled, his lips curving into a lazy grin. "What brings the almighty prefect to my corner of the world? Couldn’t resist my charm?"

Lovette didn’t waste any time. She pulled the stack of drawings from under her arm and held them up, waving them in front of his face. “Care to explain this?” she demanded, her voice laced with annoyance.

Oscar's eyes flicked to the drawings, a flicker of shock in his eyes, but his grin only widened. He gave a mock sigh and leaned in closer, his voice lowering in that signature, smooth tone he reserved for flirting. "Aw, c'mon, You know, if you wanted to see me outside of class, all you had to do was ask. No need to frame me for something!” A chuckle left his throat as he shrugged, removing himself from the locker he leaned upon.

Lovettes lips thinned, and she crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unimpressed. “Don’t even try it, Oscar. You left your trash on the desk, and now I’ve got to clean up your mess—again. Do you know this is far too inappropriate for a school! Keep this shit in the dorms! I don’t need the younger students finding it.” She hissed out. Tone laced with a venom.

Oscar chuckled, his voice a teasing mock. “Aw come on they ain’t porn, this is art! It’s like nude modeling! Are you trying to restrict my artistic creativity? That’s not very perfect like of you Lovette, maybe I should-“

“Don’t,” she cut him off sharply, stepping closer with narrowed eyes. “I don’t have time for your sleazy excuses, and this—" she waved the papers again, "is getting you in detention. So keep your 'inspiration' to yourself.”

For a moment, Oscar looked like he might keep pushing, the playful spark in his eyes dancing as he leaned in even closer, close enough for Lovette to catch a whiff of his cheap cologne and the lingering scent of pencil lead smudged on his cheek. “You know, sweetheart, if you spent less time scowling and more time relaxing, you’d have a lot more fun. I could show you how!”

Lovettes expression was pure ice. “I’m not here for fun, Oscar. I’m here to make sure punks like you follow the rules. You can take your ‘charm’ somewhere else because it doesn’t work on me.” She crumpled the paper in her hand into a ball.

Oscar leaned back with a shrug, his smile faltering just for a second. But like always, he played it off, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to get all worked up, prefect. I’ll pick up after myself next time, promise.”

“Good,” she snapped. “Because if I catch you pulling this again, you’ll be doing a lot more than sitting in detention. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Oscar gave her one last cocky smirk, but as he turned to walk away. Lovette didn’t care. She watched him go with the same look of mild irritation she always wore, shaking her head.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath, shoving the drawings into her bag. Some people just never learned.

[quillyfied]

Real talk for a minute because I fucking need this:

I’ve been a fandom nerd since age eight. Formalized when I first got online at age thirteen. My first real fandom was Harry Potter. It was my personality. It was everything. It introduced me to the fantasy genre, which I still haven’t really left. It made me want to be a writer. It made me realize there are stories inside of me that I want to share, that I hope touch someone else as deeply as Harry Potter touched me. Brain chemistry-altering type stuff. Loving Harry Potter is the only thing that extended family members who don’t really know me anymore remember about me. An ornament gifted years ago from an aunt who died suddenly. Thousands of words of writing. Hundreds of hours talking about it with friends and family. Toys, stickers, notebooks, clothes, gifts from others and some bought with money I shouldn’t have spent but did because it made me happy. Core childhood memories with people I don’t talk to anymore but remember so fondly.

It took a long time to be okay with tucking away my Harry Potter things. I disagreed with JKR’s political stances the second I heard them, but I held out hope for longer than I should have. I went through the very real shame and guilt and agony of something so foundational to my sense of self having to become a private, nostalgic sort of sad love instead of the loud, joyous proclamation it had been for years. It took a long time to be okay with losing the connection it brought with other strangers who also loved this story like I do and the giddiness of common ground and common excitement with other human beings. I’m still not okay with how something I still have so much love for is now an indicator of a person’s moral quality. I’m not okay with how my love makes me sad and uncomfortable instead of happy.

I’m a fandom nerd. It’s my biggest hobby and my biggest escape and coping mechanism. In May 2019, the thriving and small Dice Camera Action fandom exploded and then crumbled because of the show’s players’ interpersonal dramas, which in turn exploded and then crumbled me. Fully took out a pillar of my mental health. I learned a lot about parasocial relationships and my own relationship with them, about the dangers of them despite their very normal and common advent.

July 2019, I found Good Omens.

You can infer the pattern: brain chemistry-altering love, thousands of words of fanfic, more money than I had sometimes spent on stickers and plushes and shirts. Creating my very first cosplay, hours and hours talking about it with friends, some very fulfilling new creative relationships. A story that gave me hope, that felt True in the way that all great stories feel when they hit the right emotional chords. I’ve found new stories since then, but Good Omens remains an anchor that found me during a time I desperately needed it.

July 6, 2024.

Real people are more important than fandom. Obviously. I don’t think that’s ever truly in question.

But goddammit, fandom is people, too. Fandom is community. It’s the driving dopamine-sharing communal experience that has shaped my life for twenty years now. There is something in me that pushes back against the idea that the stories that have shaped and affected me so deeply must now be cast aside because their creators are unworthy, and at the same time, I have a hard time enjoying art knowing something on this magnitude taints it. It’s almost religious, in a way; avoid the appearance of evil, cast aside the unclean thing, repent for the sin of loving something made by a bad person.

Fuck you, my love doesn’t require repentance, art and artist can have some degree of separation and what I do and enjoy is nobody’s business.

Fuck you, how dare you give even verbal support to a monster by giving their work, and by extension them, the gift of your attention.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle this one yet, because the situation is more complex than JKR’s. There is still information coming out (more victims coming forward, I think more journalistic investigations under way), and Good Omens wasn’t just NG’s work, not the book and not the show. I’m in mourning. A little stuck and paralyzed. I’m not ready to put away and privatize another love that gave me such joy to be open and proud of. I resent the feeling that I need to or I will not be a Good Person.

In the meantime the bills need paid and my antidepressants need taken.

[fangirlies]

Pose for you- (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

Request: reader has been asking xavier to see his art for weeks and he finally let's her into his secret shed studio but oh no he forgot to hide his sketchbook full of drawings of reader

Warnings: none. (Please let me know if I should be aware of anything else)

A.N: a little one shot to clear my writers block? I’m in a little funk. could be the start of school making me feel off :(anyway, I hope you enjoy! i wanted to write something small for y’all

don’t ask me how I feel about it lol

You've been bugging Xavier to tell you for weeks now. You constantly wondered about his nighttime whereabouts.

"Come on, tell me! You’ve joined a sinister cult? Oh, oh, I know! You've been hiding your real identity so you morph into this enormous, hideous monster in the middle of the woods.”

“You're so aggravating, god. I have a studio for my art. I go to get some peace and quiet.” The tall, lanky boy tickles your sides as he says, "Away from you.”

His biggest regret ever since that conversation is having revealed that piece of information.

“When can I visit this mysterious art studio, hm?”

“Oh wow look at the time, it’s time to head out into the woods and show me your art shed”

“I just want to see it, Xavi, please please, please, please-“

The constant nagging appeared to be working in your advantage. He eventually agreed to show you the place where he spends the majority of his nights almost decaying as he releases whatever is obscuring his mind onto a canvas.

“I didn't think I’d have any visitors, but fuck, I thought my head would burst if I didn't say yes. So ignore the mess," he said, fiddling with the door's lock. You couldn't resist looking around the shed. The location was literally in the middle of nowhere.

“You don't feel scared coming out here by yourself?”

“Afraid the big bad wolf is going to eat me?” As he flung open the door, he chuckled. You were surprised by how cozy it seemed. His favorite drawings littered the wall furthest away from the door. His art supplies were dispersed about his desk, and in the center of the room was a large easel holding a partially completed canvas with a stool tucked under it. On the floor, there were a few tiny paint splatters of a variety of colors.

“There, you saw it. Can we go grab a bite to eat now?” As he made his way to the door, Xavier shoved his hands in his uniform pockets.

You ignored xavier as you kept looking around the shed. You studied each of his breathtaking drawings. He had a charcoal drawing of a vase with roses on his desk, and behind that one he had drawn a lit candle melting away. The open sketchbook that was buried behind those loose leaf papers caught your attention, though. A pair of familiar looking lips was sketched on the page, and oddly enough, it shared your birthmark's identical spot.

Xavier groaned and leaned against the door frame, "come on y/n, it's nothing you haven't seen in my room before.”

You turned the page in his sketchbook to reveal a pair of eyes. You had to admit that they were stunning. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the way he managed to capture the slightest detail and speck. He had such skill. You turned the page once again, and there you were. A drawing of you sitting down in Thornhill's class. With a look of deep concentration on your face, you were writing notes in your notebook about whatever plant you were learning that day. As you turned the page, a drawing of yourself from the night of the raven appeared. A huge smile plastered on your face, and he even went as far to capture each detail of your dress.

“Is- is this me?" Of course it was, you thought, what a stupid question to ask. To be fair, you were surprised that he had a sketchbook filled with drawings of you and your mind was unable to think straight. The book was knocked out of your hands before you could turn to the next page. A flushed and fidgety Xavier stood next to you with wide eyes, the book now hidden behind him. His face was flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t get all embarrassed now. I think it's cute. Let me see some more," you urged, reaching behind him to reclaim his sketchbook, but he held it up high, out of reach no matter how high you jumped.

“It’s nothing, I just get bored in class and start drawing the first thing that comes to mind” he scratched the back of his head nervously as he spoke.

"Those are quite a few times I’ve crossed your mind then. Looks like someone's a little obsessed with me," you teased as you gave up attempting to reach his secret vault of drawings of you and smiled smugly at him. "I'm going to start charging you for any drawings I’m in.”

His cheeks darkened even more, which you didn't think was possible. Xavier's gaze shifted around the room. Eyes landing on anything other than you, and his breathing became erratic. He was cute whenever he got nervous. You approached him and moved the loose strands of hair behind his ears to calm him down. Your hands directed his gaze to you.

“If you wanted me to pose for you, you could’ve just asked.”

for the bestie that sent in this request- thank you for sending to help me clear my writers block! you’re a real one <3 i hope it was more or less what you were hoping for. thank you for requesting 🤍🦋🪴🧚🏼‍♀️

As always— requests are always open! Share your thoughts! Talk to me! Get something off your mind! ✨

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Wifi my beloved I have another idea 🤲

Bless the anon that said Legacy would collect stones and rocks and sea shells cause i present to you

Jewel maker! S/o

Hhhh it's such a neat concept I brainstormed a little

From the back of Ajax's mind, Legacy has long been familiarised with your jewellery shop. It's small and tucked in a cozy little corner of Liyue. You make everything by hand, spending hours and hours molding wire and metal (??) into pretty shapes. Unfortunately, that leaves you with very little time to go out and find the best materials yourself, something Legacy's instincts say is very important, so you most likely buy the materials you need.

Nuh uh. Not on Legacy's watch.

He goes out and finds the prettiest crystals and gems and what he recognises as the rough materials of what you use to make your jewellery, just to see the way your eyes light up in shock, then delight.

Now I can't help but wonder what jewellery you'd make for him and Ajax. 👀 Like imagine how pretty moth would be with his armor adorned by gold and glittery jewels, as ethereal as dangerous... And childe deciding that, oh, you gifted him something you made with your own hands? Oh he's never taking it off that's for sure.

(Also imagine proposing to Ajax and Legacy instead of the opposite sksksksk)

oooHHHHH this is so!! cute!!!! i'm a lover of unique pretty jewelry so this is right up my alley :D

Legacy also knows how exhausting your work is, spending hours squinting at tiny, shining components to craft the perfect pieces for your customers. on good days, you're merely fatigued- on bad days, your head thuds with pain and your eyes hurt so much that you can barely see. so your Abyssal moth monster sneaks out while you're at work, searching high and low for all that glitters, every type of rock and stone that you can use in your art. he's not alone- Zhongli usually tags along with him, showing Legacy how to identify the highest quality crystal and cor lapis, occasionally even bringing along the mischievous funeral parlor director, who's all the happier to hang around an intimidating-looking Abyss creature. sometimes Legacy feels the presence of an adeptus or two, the amber he finds unusually pure and vibrant, even glimpsing the far-off aura of the Conqueror of Demons, watching him from far away, and Legacy happily ambles back to your shop at the end of the day, arms full of rough gemstones

you blink in surprise when Foul Legacy pushes the door open and deposits the jewels on your workbench, after he's sure you've put all your tools away. he chirps proudly, rolling a chunk towards you to inspect, and after a moment of shock your face splits into a delighted grin, flinging your arms around Legacy as he rumbles joyfully. you're sure to base some of your next collections off of him, incorporating elegant moth-ish patterns with a splash of stars here and there, gold and silver and deep, rich hues. he trills in delight when he sees the bracelets, necklaces, and earrings you've made, watching you design them from over your shoulder, occasionally nudging your cheek to remind you to rest. his claws wrapped around you give you the perfect opportunity to measure them, discern his ring size so you can make measurements for the sketch on the very last page of your notebook, a custom pair of rings etched with stars, one smaller than the other- one for Ajax, and one for Foul Legacy- for when you finally work up the courage to propose

[imdoingaokay]

May I ask for DAI romance companions reaction to their lover making them a LOVELY piece of artwork for them??

Also if you wouldn't mind, Solas’ reaction as well?

Solas will always be included in the romanced companion dai lineup unless stated otherwise, so don’t you worry my dear anon. And so will Varric because I might as well do what Bioware was too much of a coward to do.

Sorry I've been gone for so long, I've been kept busy with nursing school. Good news, I passed my first semester! Woohoo! I'm hoping to get some more stuff out before I go back to school, wish me luck lol!

A rarely seen, but rumored skill that the Inquisitor had was art. Perhaps being raised the way they were, they got exposed to it and just had a knack for painting, more specifically, painting portraits.

If The Inquisitor’s friends were to glance at the leatherbound notebook they kept so tightly to their person, they would see multiple sketches of landscapes, animals, and the people The Inquisitor came across on their journeys. However, The Inquisitor kept this notebook tucked away in their bag or their jacket when they traveled, so it was seldom seen… almost.

One day, during a somewhat slow day of pomp and circumstance, the lover of the Inquisitor just so happened to come across the notebook… unprotected.

The pair had been taking some time away from stuffy nobles and constant threats to enjoy each other’s presence, except, when a messenger came by, claiming that Leliana had a report for the Inquisitor and the Inquisitor alone, they simply got up and left. Not before leaving a kiss on the cheek of their lover. The Inquisitor’s lover knew it was an invasion of privacy, but, it was the Inquisitor’s fault for keeping it there. So, curiosity bubbling over, the lover peered over to see what had the Inquisitor so fascinated moments before.

It was a sketch of them, of their face. A waist-up portrait of them.

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Rainer couldn’t help but break out into a smile, he had been working so hard on the little griffon he had been making that he hardly noticed how furrowed his brow must’ve looked. His finger lingered on the subtle details spread across the page, some details so small he wouldn’t have noticed had he not picked up the piece of art and studied it closer.

Cassandra: Cassandra hadn’t even thought of the whole invasion of privacy, in a split second, she grabbed the notebook and stared at the Inquisitor’s work. The book she had been reading was long forgotten. And it had all but dematerialized when she saw the sketch of herself. She could feel a blush slowly creep up her cheeks until she was certain her entire face was red. At the slightest noise, she shoved the notebook back to its original spot, only to quickly pick it back up and inspect her lover’s handiwork.

Cullen Rutherford: He took the longest to finally look, pondering whether or not he would invade his lover’s privacy by taking the shortest peek.

He breaks, of course, less than a minute after he begins his internal debate.

He hurriedly flips through the pages and finds their most recent work, and his breath hitches. 

He traces the beautiful sketch and finds himself mirroring the facial expression The Inquisitor caught him in. He can’t help but get lost in the drawings his Inquisitor has created. Still, every time a soldier walks in, it breaks him from any immersion he had, resulting in an innocent soldier watching the Commander fumble with a notebook.

The first time it happens, Cullen decides against looking again, placing it back in its original place.

Dorian Pavus: The second the Inquisitor was out of sight, Dorian casually grabbed and flipped through the pages of his lover’s notebook happily before stopping, the last page was a sketch of him. He pauses for a moment before a cheeky grin spreads across his face. He inspects every stroke, line, and scribble that decorates the page for what feels like ages. And if someone were to walk by, he doesn’t put it away, a part of him wanting to get caught by his lover. Eventually, he hears his amatus’ voice from far away, and after some deliberation, he decides to return the notebook to its rightful place, positioning it to look untouched.

Iron Bull: He’s subtle, his fingers trace the sketch so gently he can barely feel the paper underneath. He hides the book well behind his large hands and smiles to himself as he traces the image with his eyes. He’s impressed with The Inquisitor’s knowledge of anatomy, as every muscle Bull has appeared to be on display in the portrait. 

He’s one of the only ones who keep the notebook in their grasp, watching his kadan tense up and begin to blush.

“If you wanted me to pose, you could’ve just asked me.” He smiles.

Josephine Montilyet: She takes a minute, and assures the Inquisitor is far enough away before she peaks at the sketchbook. A blush creeps up her face before she’s giggling and kicking her feet as she looks at her lover’s drawing. She’s convinced they took a few artistic liberties as she believes she looks far better in the picture than she does in real life.

Regardless, she becomes satisfied, places the sketchbook back down, and settles back in her chair, reinvigorated.

Sera: She’s immediate, completely snatching up the book before The Inquisitor even leaves, if her lover notices Sera, she attempts to hold it away, claiming they were asking for it when they left it out in the open. She does everything to get away, including climbing on the roof. But once she realizes what her lover drew, she pauses. 

Eventually, The Inquisitor finds her and watches Sera slowly look up, “You made this? I… I’ve never seen… a drawing of me before.” Before breaking out into a grin, she whispers, “Why would you hide this?! This is great!”

Solas: He looks, finding himself far too curious for his own good. Once he sees his portrait, he smiles and leans back in his chair, admiring the work his vhenan put into the piece. He waits for his lover to return, nonchalantly handing over the sketchbook and kissing his lover’s cheek.

“You should draw more often.” He says, “Or maybe I should draw you.”

Varric Tethras: This man read Hawke’s personal journal, The Inquisitor should’ve expected him to look. 

He takes a peak, which turns into a long stare, as he becomes enraptured by the portrait. Soon, he breaks out into a grin and waits for his lover’s return, holding the sketchbook like a trophy.

“Maybe you should do illustrations for my book from now on.” He suggests.

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

We Are TroubleD - "Saturdays Are For Soup" - (Pre-capture)

Written as a part of @whumperofworlds' WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Day 9 (my chosen prompts are bolded) - Aftermath of rescue / Sickness / "You're burning up."

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Event page | My event participation masterpost (coming soon) | “We Are TroubleD” Masterpost | Next (coming soon)

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Content warnings: Food, sickness, medicine (pills), nausea mention, trouble breathing, trouble sleeping

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            The boys should have won an award for their dedication to academic excellence… or at least that’s what Darius thought. After all, it wasn’t typical for either of them to spend their entire Saturday tucked away in the university library unless it was absolutely necessary. Apparently today it was absolutely necessary, and Darius made sure to voice his displeasure about it.

            “You don’t actually want to be here all day, do you?” he questioned as they scaled the stairs to the building’s second floor. Tristan shook his head and adjusted his backpack.

            “Of course I don’t, but I told you, if I don’t meet this deadline then I’m screwed. I can’t focus at home right now… A few too many sleepless nights. I need a change of scenery.”

            “But on a Saturday?” Darius griped. He was being a little dramatic about it, partially playing it up for laughs, though he genuinely wasn’t into the whole idea.

            Tristan rolled his eyes. “I never said you had to stay. Hell, you didn’t even have to come. I just offered in case you wanted to get a head start on your stuff for next week. You’d be wise to do so.”

            Darius considered his friend’s words and made a small “tch” out of the corner of his mouth. Good ol’ Tris… he was right as usual and was just looking out for Darius' best interests. He did have an essay that he was dreading writing for his art history class, and he supposed there would be some decent resources for that somewhere in the stacks. Begrudgingly he admitted to himself that it would be smarter to stick around to get a jump on it rather than putting it off until the night before, which was his usual M.O. for writing projects.  

            “Ugh, fine. You’re right. But I might bounce in a few hours. It’s too nice outside today to stay cooped up in here.”

            He didn’t see it, but a small smile spread over Tristan’s lips. Atta boy.

            When they made it to the second floor, Tristan was breathing heavier than usual, his cheeks flushed a gentle pink. Darius frowned as Tristan caught his breath.

            “Wow, really?” Darius asked. They had walked up those stairs dozens of times, and they had never tired Tristan out before. “You okay?”

            Tristan shrugged it off. “Yeah. I dunno, just a little winded. Must’ve overfilled my bag this morning.”

            He had gone a little crazy on packing for the day; Tristan had stuffed in multiple heavy textbooks, his laptop, a full water bottle, snacks, several notebooks, and anything else he possibly could have needed for a day of marathon working. It was way more than what he usually lugged around on a typical school day, and he felt that pretty much as soon as they had left home. The added weight pressed down onto his shoulders, and he was already tired out.

            Darius spotted two open chairs at a table near one of the large picture windows and made his way over with Tristan trailing behind him. The two of them plopped down their bags and set up their workstations, ready to dive in for the day.

            Tristan was his typical studious self, wasting no time in getting to work on his assignment, but it took Darius longer than he cared to admit to actually get started. He kept jealously staring out the window at people strolling by on the sidewalk below, all dressed up for fun days out.

            Guys were out on the quad tossing a Frisbee around. There was a gaggle of girls filming each other running around with a bubble wand and laughing. Some people were simply lounging on benches under the shade of the trees engaged in conversations. Any and all of that sounded more fun than homework… but it had to get done.

            Beside him, Tristan coughed a few times, jerking away Darius' attention. Message received. Tristan was subtly trying to tell him to get on with his work, and Darius obliged. He pulled out a pencil and opened his notepad to skim his class notes.

            But Tristan kept coughing. Not constantly, but frequently in little spurts. He knocked against his chest with his fist to get his lungs to calm down, then took a swig out of his water bottle.

            “Dusty…” he remarked.

            Darius gave a small chuckle. “This place always is.”  

            Eventually Darius managed to buckle down, and before he knew it, he was flipping through borrowed books, researching, and typing. An hour and a half passed, and he was only broken from his workflow by Tristan making a frustrated grunt.

            Darius glanced up from his screen and saw Tristan staring absently out the window, his brow creased like he was in deep thought. Darius had seen that look on his face before when Tristan was working something out in his mind. It was a look of concentration and pensiveness.

            … But something was off about it today. He looked troubled, like there was something under the surface that was bothering him.

            “See, I knew I wasn’t the only one who wanted to be outside to enjoy the day. I see you staring.” Darius teased.

            Tristan didn’t respond, he simply blinked, then his frown deepened as he continued to stare through the window at nothing in particular.

            ‘Man…’ Darius thought. Tristan was really lost in whatever he was turning over in his mind… probably some big math problem. He was one of those geniuses that could solve really complex stuff in his head. It just came naturally to him. In a way Darius envied that, but he himself never found numbers and figures super interesting like Tristan did.

            Well, Tristan might have been somewhere on another mental processing planet, but Darius was ready for a brain break. He closed his laptop and stretched, deciding it was time to go for a short walk.

            “You want boba?” he asked.

            Tristan’s vision dropped back down to his own laptop keyboard and his lips slightly parted, though he didn’t speak. He still had that frown and thousand-yard stare. Maybe he hadn’t heard Darius.

            “Hey, do you want boba?” Darius repeated. He reached out and lightly tapped the table’s surface in front of Tristan to get his attention.

            With a small jump, Tristan came back down to Earth and finally turned to Darius. His face changed to a slightly surprised expression, though he still seemed distant. Was it Darius' imagination, or did he seem paler, too?

            “Huh? What?” Tristan questioned.

            “I’m going for bubble tea. Do you want some?”

            “Oh. I uh… I dunno. Sure. Thanks.”

            Tristan seemed flustered coming out of his trance, like perhaps he wasn’t all there. He must have noticed how Darius was looking at him, because he shook his head to clear his mind.

            “Sorry, I just feel a bit off. Kinda tired.” he explained. “A drink sounds good. Could you get extra ice? It’s like, stupid hot in here.”

            What the heck was he talking about? The sun was high in the sky, but it was behind the building, not shining directly through the windows. If anything, Darius felt cold in the space. The library tended to blast the AC for whatever reason. How could Tristan feel hot? Weirdo…

            Darius took Tristan’s order but refused his money as per usual. He liked treating his friends to things. It made him feel good.

            It was nice to get out into the sunshine, even if it was just for a brief walk across the way for tea. The library was too stuffy in Darius' opinion. After all, Tristan had just had a coughing fit in there, proving his point. They should both be out in the fresh air. The afternoon felt incredible- there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the temperature was perfect.  Maybe Darius could convince Tristan to pack up long enough to enjoy their drinks outside.

            The line for tea was longer than Darius had anticipated, and by the time he had picked up their drinks and started back toward the library, twenty minutes had passed. Hopefully Tristan didn’t need that tea too badly.  

            Darius approached their spot and found Tristan leaning forward on the table, his elbows bent and his head resting in his hands. His face was completely obscured like he was either crying or was extremely frustrated.

            “You good?” Darius asked, hesitantly setting Tristan’s drink in front of him. “Must be one hell of an assignment if you’re this stumped.”

            Tristan shook his head. “I have a headache.”

            “Did you eat yet today? Drink enough water?”

            “Yeah. I’ve been taking care of myself, I just—” Tristan lifted his head, squinting into the light from the window, but winced and quickly pulled back into himself. He made his way down a little further, placing his arms on the table like a pillow and burying his face into them.

            “Light hurts.” he muttered.  

            Darius swirled the ice around in his drink thoughtfully, then took a sip as he sat down.

            “D’you want to go home?” he asked gently. “Sounds like you have a migraine.”

            “Mm…” Tristan uttered. “No. I still have so much to do. Do you have an aspirin?”

            Darius pawed through his bag but came up empty-handed.

            “Nah, I’m sorry, I’ve got nothing. I can get you some from the campus store if you want?”

            Tristan nodded and Darius stood.

            “Alright, Hang tight. I’ll be right back. You should drink some of your tea while I’m gone. Maybe it’ll help you feel better.” he reached out a reassuring hand, gently clapping Tristan on the back, but his fingers landed slightly above Tristan’s collar and came in contact with the back of his neck. As soon as Darius felt Tristan’s skin, he pulled back and gasped.

            “Whoa! Tris, you’re burning up!”

            “What?”

            “Dude, I think you’re sick.”

            Slowly Tristan sat up, once again squinting into the light. He looked miserable, and unmistakably pale. Darius hadn’t been seeing things before after all.

            “No… I can’t be— ugh, crap, maybe you’re right…” he leaned forward again, dizzily resting his forehead against the heel of his palm as he felt his stomach lurch. “Yeah, I’m nauseous…”   

            “Here, I’m gonna pack up. Let’s get you home.”

            Tristan made a stubborn noise of protest, though it sounded strained. He knew better than to stick around in such a state, but if he went home then what about his project?

            “Dair, I’ve gotta finish this…”

            His friend crossed his arms. “You won’t get anything done if you’re under the weather, plus you’re gonna infect everyone in this library if you stick around. Come on. You clearly need to lie down. Pack up your books. You can read them in bed.”

            One of Tristan’s hands clenched over his stomach, and the other curled into a fist to mediate the pain.

            “Fine…” he took a second to collect himself, then slowly began to gather up his belongings. Tristan placed things in his bag through half-lidded eyes, his head sagging wearily a time or two like he just couldn’t handle it.  Darius helped him along as soon as he had gotten his own things packed up.

            Tristan got to his feet and reached down for his backpack. He grabbed a strap and pulled up, but once it was taut the bag didn’t lift off of the ground. He cringed with effort and wobbled unsteadily as his arm hung loose.

            “I’m so sorry to ask you this…”

            He didn’t need to finish the request. Darius was already bending down to grab his bag in addition to his own. Darius hefted both backpacks onto his twiggy little shoulders and felt his eyes bulge in surprise under the weight. God, why were Tristan’s textbooks so heavy?! The kid must have crazy muscles to be able to haul even one of those around every day. No wonder he was so worn out. Darius took a breath and quickly wrestled his face into a neutral—no, calm and pleasant, so Tristan wouldn’t worry—expression, then helped Tristan to his car.

            Tristan attempted to force the veneer of being in better shape than he was, but the illusion shattered almost immediately after he buckled himself into the passenger seat. He was napping before they even got out of the university parking lot. Once they arrived home, he limped up to their apartment and made a beeline for the couch.

            “Uh-uh. Real bed.” Darius ordered. Poor Tristan looked ready to drop, and the couch was the first thing he saw, but he needed a proper rest. The boy nodded distantly, then slunk off to his room.

                                               ***

            Tristan was out pretty much the second his head hit the pillow, and wound up being down for a few hours. He managed to sleep for quite a while, but it wasn’t always solid. It was hard to get comfortable, and he tossed and turned while battling weird dreams and body aches. He woke up a few times, never fully flashing back into full consciousness, though he was able to do a few things in his stupor.

            One time he woke up to pills and a glass of water on his bedside table. He swallowed them down, then conked out again.

            When he woke up another time, there was a thermometer. He stuck it under his tongue and waited. When it beeped, he pulled it out and checked the tiny screen. He had a temperature alright.

            Another time the water had been refilled and there were saltine crackers on a plate. Darius was watching out for him, and Tristan was thankful.

            Finally, Tristan woke up fully sometime in the evening and pulled out his phone to catch up with whatever he had missed in the world while he was resting. He was already feeling a little better thanks to the water and pain relievers that Darius had left him.

            While he scrolled, a delicious smell wafted into his nostrils… heavenly… at least what he could make out through his stuffy nose. In the kitchen he heard Darius humming a tune contently to himself over the sound of the stove’s fan. He must have thought Tristan was still asleep; It was rare to hear Darius singing out loud unless he either thought he was alone or was in the mood to not care if he was heard. Tristan didn’t recognize the song, but it was nice to hear Darius sound so relaxed. It made him feel more at ease.

            Tristan reached for a tissue and blew into it, sniffling after the fact. Ugh. Whatever this cold was, it sucked. A shiver ran through him. He had woken up drenched in sweat, and it was cooling a bit with the air around him. He hated the way it felt on his skin- more gross than anything. He peeled his shirt off and tossed it aside on the floor, then peered over at his closet door longingly, willing for a fresh shirt to magically float on over to him. That wasn’t going to happen, though.

            Timidly Tristan threw off the covers and made to stand up, but right as he did, there was a quiet knock on his door. Darius turned the handle, then poked his head in.

            “Are you decent?” he asked. He was joking, but Tristan flopped back down to his bed and swiftly yanked the top sheet up over himself.

            “No, actually.” he responded, but Darius was already looking at him, his eyebrows raised in surprise.   

            “Oh, I— uh… I-I’m sorry. Do you want me to leave?”

            Tristan sighed, then lowered the blanket down. Whatever, it’s not like Darius had never seen his chest before. He just felt a little self-conscious due to the sickness. It was wracking his brain and not allowing him to think straight.

            “No, you’re fine. Come in.”

            Darius entered fully, carrying a single tier wire shelf in his hands with a baking sheet on top of it. Tristan cocked his head to the side at the sight.

            “I brought you dinner.” Darius explained.

            “Are you carrying it on the shoe rack we bought last week?”

            Darius shrugged.

            “Yeah well, we don’t have a bed table or proper trays, so this was the best I could come up with. I promise the shelf’s clean. I just took it out of the packaging.” his eyes quickly scanned Tristan up and down. “Did your fever burn your shirt off?”

            “Too sweaty.” Tristan replied. He reached up and finger combed his hair, unsticking it from his forehead in an attempt to look somewhat put together, even though he definitely wasn’t. “Could you grab me another from the closet?”

            Darius set the makeshift tray down for a moment, then did as requested, searching for a soft shirt and plucking it off its hanger. As he pulled it out, he looked at the design on the front and his eyes flashed with recognition.

            “No way.” he said. “Is this from spring break freshman year?” Darius flipped the shirt around so Tristan could see it. There was a screen-printed image of a very cartoony sea turtle in swim trunks riding a surfboard and grinning brightly under some radical font that read “SEAMOUR’S SURF SHACK: PIZZA AND TREATZA!”. Just laying eyes on it brought back memories of the beach trip they had taken with their friends that spring. Darius could practically smell the woodfire pizza oven, the tomato sauce and bubbling cheese from their meal, and of course the saltwater blowing in on the ocean breeze.

            “I didn’t know you bought this!”

            “Oh yeah! That place was the bomb. I wanted to remember it. We should go back there again someday.” Darius tossed Tristan the shirt, and he slipped it on, a nostalgic glimmer in his eyes.

            Darius picked up the shoe-rack-cookie-sheet-tray-table and brought it over to the bed, then placed it down on top of the sheets. Tristan took the thing in and couldn’t contain his laughter. It certainly wasn’t an aesthetically pleasing setup, but it was a thoughtful and creative one, nonetheless. He appreciated the effort.

            “Thanks. That's ingenious, Dair, I'll give you that. What did you bring me?” he looked down at the tray and lit up at the spread before him. There was a bowl of hearty looking soup, a condiment container with a dollop of sour cream in it, and a small plate of sourdough bread slices.

            “Hold on a sec, is this that soup your grandma made us when she visited? Plem… Palm…” Tristan couldn’t quite remember the name, but he definitely remembered the soup. It was incredible.

            “Pelmeni soup, yeah.” Darius said. He seemed pleased that the meal had made an impression on Tristan. “I called her up and got the recipe. This isn’t going to be as good as hers, but I tried. Just thought you could use something solid, y’know? You need strength if you want to kick this thing quickly.”

            Tristan eagerly picked up his spoon and dug in. His shoulders sank in bliss when the flavor met his tongue. The savory taste of the chicken dumplings, the broth, and the vegetables mixed together in a delectable delight, warming both his body and his soul.

            “Oh my god.” he spoke behind another mouthful of the stuff. “Please make this more often.”

            Darius dropped his gaze to the floor and his long black hair flopped in his face, allowing him to hide a flattered little smile.

            “Does that mean you like it? You know I’m not normally a chef or anything. You don’t have to lie if it actually sucks.”

            “Shut up, it doesn’t suck! I’m not lying!” Tristan happily slurped down several more spoonfuls as Darius grabbed his water glass to refill it.

            “Well, that’s a relief. I’m glad I didn’t screw it up.”

            Darius went out to the kitchen, then returned with a full glass. He set it down on the bedside table and picked up the thermometer. The screen display had long since shut off.

            “You took your temperature earlier, right? What was it? How are you feeling?”

            Tristan swallowed a bite of bread. “99.1. Guess that’s what I get for not sleeping as much as I should have in the last week or so.”

            Darius scoffed. “Hate to tell you I told you so, but…” Tristan worked too hard, and that was coming from an art student who often was right there with him up late into the night. He had implored Tristan to rest more, but it seemed like he wasn’t going to slow down until his body forced him to.  

            “Yeah, yeah, I know…” Tristan waved him off. “Anyway, I’m feeling a bit better than I was earlier, but I’m definitely still sick. I’m hot and cold at the same time… What gives?!” he scrunched up his features and looked like he had a tickle in his nose. In a flash he had snatched up a tissue and brought it up to his face, where he exploded into it with a sneeze.

            “Mmm, and there’s that.” he sniffed. “Headache’s gone for now, but I feel like there’s a balloon pressing against my sinuses.”

            “Well, eat up, then get some more rest. Sorry about your project. You should email your professor to tell him you’re sick and that it’ll be late.”

            Tristan stirred some sour cream into his soup to make it creamier. “Already did. Thanks for talking some sense into me and getting me out of the library. And for the medicine. And for this.” he nodded down at the food.  

            “Anytime. Let me know if you need anything else.” Darius reached out with his foot and lightly tapped Tristan’s backpack at the base of the bed. “This is here if you want it, but really, get some more sleep.”

            He started to walk out the door, and Tristan’s face fell.

            “You’re leaving?” he asked. Darius looked over his shoulder.

            “Uh, well, yeah. You’re sick, plus you probably don’t want me around bugging you while you recover.” he saw the look in Tristan’s eyes and wavered. “… Do you?”

            Tristan messed with the top sheet absentmindedly, lightly pulling on it and twisting it in his hands.

            “You could hang out if you wanted… I don’t mind the company.”

            Darius peered up at the ceiling and weighed the risks in his mind, then breathed out a fond sigh. It did suck to be alone, especially when dealing with something like a cold.

            “Alright, but you’re wearing a mask.” he said. “I don’t wanna catch it.”

            Tristan sniffed, then blew his nose again and nodded. “Deal.”

            Darius left momentarily, fixing himself a bowl of soup. He grabbed their handheld video game consoles too in case Tristan wanted to play later. Darius might have pointed out the bag full of textbooks on the floor, but he knew that what Tristan really needed was rest and relaxation.   

            He made himself comfortable on the beanbag chair across the room while Tristan finished up his dinner. Once done, Tristan placed the homemade tray table combo on the floor, put on a face mask, and snuggled back down under the blankets. He turned to Darius.

            “So, you remember what happened after Seamour’s, right?” Tristan asked, steering the conversation back to their beach vacation. Behind a mouthful of dumpling, Darius' eyes brightened, and he nodded emphatically. He gulped down the bite and resurfaced for air.

            “Oh my God, how could I forget? We went out to that pier and freaking Landon launched his sandal off the dock… I still can’t believe he managed to fling it off like that.”

            “Right?! How did he do that?!” Tristan laughed. “And then Cici asked that fisherman to try to get it—”

            “And he actually caught it!” Darius finished. The two cracked up. “Like, what kind of luck is that?! Can I have some?”

            The pair reminisced for quite a while, Tristan laughing and smiling through it all despite the discomfort that came with the sickness. It was nice to have a distraction from it, and he really appreciated Darius' company. It was nice that he had stayed.

            They talked and shared stories until Tristan’s eyelids grew heavy and he nestled further down into his pillow. It was about time for bed at that point anyway- hours had passed without either of them noticing. Darius rose and stretched deeply, grabbing his bowl from the floor, and adding it to the tray. He scooped up the whole bundle and deposited it in the kitchen, then returned to insist that Tristan take another round of medicine before sleeping.

            Tristan accepted, removing his mask and taking what Darius gave him before settling in for the night.

            As Darius left, he gave Tristan a friendly tap on the shoulder with one finger.  

            “Sleep well. Call or text me if you need anything. If I’m not sleeping, I’ll come help you.” he said.

            “Will do. Thanks again, Dair. I’m lucky to have you. G’night.”

            Darius peered back from the door frame and smiled softly at Tristan, relieved that he had been able to help him. It was nice to take the evening off to chat, and he was glad that Tristan had asked him to stick around.

            "'Night. Get well soon." Darius flipped off the light switch and closed the door, leaving his roommate content with a belly full of soup and well wishes for a speedy recovery.  

---------------------------------------------------

Day 9!

Kind of nice to give the boys a break, even though it comes at Tristan's expense. Sorry dude! Luckily with Darius looking out for him and serving him healthy and hearty meals, I think the guy will be back on his feet in no time!

Thanks for reading!

---

Tag list: @dutifullykrispyland, @fleur-a-whump, @gala1981, @generic-whumperz, @risahraun

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Mementos | Soap x Nina

Ficmas 2023: Day 1

Nina has a gift for Johnny before he's deployed again

"You have everything?" Nina asked, holding Johnny's bag hostage.

"I do." He nodded. He was going to Japan, recon on a shadow company base. Could be a couple weeks or longer. He kissed her as he took the duffle bag from her. It was never easy for him to leave. Every touch of hers felt like a weight holding him back.

She hopped up on the balls of her feet and wrapped her arms around his neck. He dropped the duffle bag unceremoniously on the floor to lift her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. She always wore extra perfume before he left. They stood with his face pressed against her collarbone, breathing her in.

"There's a gift for you in your bag," she said softly.

"You got me a present?" He asked, nuzzling her cheek.

"I made you a present."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It's just for you. Promise you won't let anyone else see?"

"Of course." He kissed her as he set her back down on the floor. He picked his duffle back up. He needed one more kiss.

"I love you," he said, cupping her cheek and leaning down to kiss her again.

"Love you."

His shoulders dropped at the sound of the door closing.

It was almost three days before he finally got time alone. He'd been good at ignoring the brown paper present tucked in the bottom of his bag. He tripled checked he was alone and the door was locked before pulling it out of his bag.

He had no idea what she had planned. He gently opened it, careful to not even tear the tape. It was a booklet, hand made with a light blue card stock cover and sewn together with matching string. On the front was a pasted picture of them among a collage of flower cut outs.

He opened it and his eyes started tearing up. She'd always been private about her personal writing. He never pried, knowing what its like to keep some art to yourself. He wanted to read it always. Her poems that she spent hours agonizing over. She'd be across from him on the couch with a notebook in her lap furiously crossing out things or erasing them or scribbling down new words. He'd watch her out of the corner of his eye, smiling at her furrowed brow.

Now her poems were tied neatly together just for him. She'd spent a lot of time on this little book. Collages and doodles on every page. Every poem was about him. They were in chronological order - tracing from the first time they met to now.

There was always a cloud of guilt hanging over him. He wasn't taking good enough care of her, he was constantly leaving her alone, he wasn't making it known that he loved her.

With each page he watched her own doubts slip away. From saying how she was scared and embarrassed to have a crush on him to how she loved waking up next to him to a frankly dirty piece about him going down on her.

He lost track of how many times he read it, committing every line to memory. She didn't often verbalize her feelings to him, preferring physical touch to anything else. He'd be making dinner only to have her come up behind and hug him.

There was a knock on his door.

"You coming to dinner, mate?" Gaz asked. Johnny clutched the book to his chest.

"I'll be out soon." He said. He wrapped the book back up and hid it in his bag.

"I love my gift. You made a grown man cry Neen. Love you." He texted her. It was 3am back home. He'd have to call her later.

Ten thousand kilometers away Nina's face broke into a teary grin as she read Johnny's text. She stared at the text, a blush filling out her cheeks. She hid her face in his pillow giggling over how much he liked it.

[screamingsappho]

First Love

I don't recall what movie we saw, but I do recall his hand finding mine on the armrest between our seats tentative at first, then firm warm and calloused from woodwork, metalwork, careful everywhere he touched me.

At twelve we walked around the lake stealing shy glances under the moon. At thirteen he gave me a Viking ship necklace with "I Love You" etched in Nordic runes in a lovely painted wooden box. I wonder, did he make that, too? It smelled like crushed mint leaves inside (when I smell mint I still think of you).

I confess I didn't treat him well. I listened too much to shallow friends, pushed him away until he gave up and swiftly came to regret it when at fourteen he moved to another state. But at seventeen he was back in town for a week, and asked me on a date. I never considered turning him down. Fifteen and sixteen had not been kind to a lonely girl with a head full of romance who had to learn to hide behind a mask to even be given a chance (but you stole a kiss from me under the moon and danced with me though I couldn't dance and liked me just fine with no mask at all writing poems in my notebook next to diagrams of plants).

I'd missed his lazy hazel eye and unruly brown hair, the freckles arranged across his nose like an artist painted each one there. The last thing he gave me was a hammered rose, burnished so the metal was a glowing red as if it was magic, lit from within. I wore it despite what my friends all said, and I swear it always felt warm against my skin.

That kiss he stole at the lake when we were twelve under the moon as we said goodnight, lips to my cheek just before he ran away so soft and quick I wonder if I'm remembering right was prelude to the ones we shared at seventeen tucked away in my car in the parking lot warm hands making me glow like his metalwork art after the movie whose name I forgot.

I still have the Viking ship, though the runes wore away over the years. The painted box sits on my dresser still. If I close my eyes, the faintest trace of mint still lingers. And of course I kept the hammered rose. I think of him often, and wonder if he knows.