#a blooming mistake

[egophiliac]

...okay, one more before it gets lost in diasomnia hell, because I can’t stop thinking that Bloom Idia looks like he should be airbrushed on a van somewhere.

(van from Pexels)

[silwermoon-sims]

Rags to Riches gameplay challenge with Cheese Girl🧀🌷

20 x 15 unfurnished lot in Oasis Springs

$0

No tent / bed

Picnic bench and lamp only

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Cheese is Level 3 in:

Charisma

Fishing

Cooking

Fitness

Gardening

Handiness

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Time to go forage for anything we can sell (produce, fishing, dig for treasure, dumpster diving, painting etc. 🌿🥕🍅🍄

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

[tinylittlelilac]

[I don’t know how strict happyele is about these things so no matter how obvious it is I’m declaring now its fictitious basis]

- Victory in Defeat ★ Planetarium

‘Starmaker Production is holding the variety show Planetarium for its idols, and Eichi has a lot in store for it. Yuzuru plans to fly under the radar as usual, but Midori seems to know a lot of trivia about a certain fine member, and suddenly, the attention shifts to the two…’

finally exposing the fact there is not a sane cell in my head. fake dream event.. ryuseitai and fine variety show

please don’t mind the millions of mistakes !!!! TT

[ilycove]

Everything in the kitchen was messier than anything you've ever seen before.

The counters were covered in something white and powdery, you couldn't tell what it was anymore. It was going to be hell to clean up. The only thing that was untouched by the tornado of flour and powdered sugar was Quest's glasses, sat delicately on top of the microwave.

You sighed and looked over to Quest, relishing in delight with a stupid smile in his pink frilly apron. "Dear?"

His grin grows from ear to ear, awaiting your next instruction like a dog.

Your smile matches his and you reach over to pour some more chocolate chips in your hand. "Could you please get me," you pause and look over to your recipe. "half a teaspoon of baking soda?"

"If you stop eating chocolate chips by the handful, then sure." You roll your eyes and continue to mix your wet ingredients together, occasionally flinging some of the mixture onto you and the counters. You pay little to no mind to it when Quest comes over with your dry ingredients, and you look up at him with a tight smile. He leans forward a bit to try and see what you were so focused on. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing. This is just a tablespoon. And also baking powder. But it's fine, what's the worst that can happen?"

Quest gives you a weird look and retracts his head a bit. "You can tell the difference between baking soda and baking powder?"

"You can't tell the difference between a tablespoon and a teaspoon?"

He throws his hand up like a sassy child and squints at you, something you do right back to him. "In my defense, I'm not wearing glasses."

"And what's in your defense for wearing a pink apron?"

He twirls around a bit and laughs as he picks up the frills and lifts it, bowing down a bit. "I'm a pretty princess. C'mon, I'm sure you'd agree."

You laugh and shake your head. "God, you're a dork." You go to scoop two cups of flour out of the bag when you feel him wrap his arms around you and begin kissing up, from your shoulder blades to your neck and coming around to your collarbones. You attempt to shrug him off but you're the man and he's the leech. "Hey, princess, not now. I'm doing super serious business."

You feel his kisses falter a bit as airy chuckle come out of him. He looks up at you for a brief moment before asking, "Making cookies is super serious business?"

"I don't think I stuttered."

Quest seems taken aback by your responses, but is still laughing up a storm as you try and hold your chuckles back too. "And what's gonna get that attitude out of you?"

You don't answer, instead you turn around and kiss him tenderly. Quest seemed very happy by this and grabbed the edge of the counter to stabilize himself, knocking downs cup or two before helping you on the counter without care. He kisses you again and runs his fingers through your hair, stopping when he hears a disgruntled whine from you. He pulls back and looks at you, examining all kinds of faux-disappointment on your face. "Are you okay?"

"No, yeah, I'm just," You cut yourself off and laugh a little bit, pulling him closer. "You just got flour in my hair."

He shrugs with a shit-eating grin and kisses the corners of your lips before actually kissing you, laughing against your lips. "It's fine, you always liked it a bit messy."

He laughs harder when you hit his shoulder and still lean into him for another kiss.

[skloomdumpster]

[incompleteninny]

The forty-sixth free, unedited chapter of my upcoming book, “The Heist at Cordia Aquarium” is now available on its website (or click here to read from the beginning).

I’m plain exhausted. It’d be nice to spend all day writing and editing and drafting, but The Energy. It eludes me. Or work steals it all.

Avery's consciousness zips back to the world through a dizzying swamp. A journey of swirling thoughts, fluttering eyelids, and an inexplicably dry mouth. It's gross. Like she's got a shriveled up sponge for a tongue. In a few moments, most of the discomfort passes and the world materializes around her: the subtle scent of lavender and lemongrass; rays of early sunset that tint the world red; a steady, eerie creak.

Comfortable, warm, and haunting. Waking up around this time has always felt like that. Felt weird. The creaking doesn't help.

What happened? Where am I?

Her fluttering eyes shoot open and she props herself up. A plush, violet couch supports her now-awake self, herbs creep up from multicolored pots, and Valerie swivels in an office chair behind a mahogany desk. Avery goes to speak, but the words catch in her throat at a rush of memories. The school trip, the girl who lost control, overexerting herself.

Did I pass out?

[...]

[floralovebot]

helia hates using technology and refuses to try digital art out of spite: trash

helia has tried digital art but prefers traditional art and doesn't like it when people try to force digital on him: woke

helia does digital art but he treats it like traditional painting and does everything on one layer, refuses to learn ctrl + z, and doesn't save until the very end: bespoke

[fuckentoastybitch]

Phone Call

A NakedToaster x reader drabble. GN reader but reader's server username is defaulted to LovelyLola.

This is my first fic here. I wouldn't call myself a writer per se, I haven't written in a long time and tbh I don't brush up my skills often so my writings are usually very simple, the same could be said about this one but I think it's nice enough

"I don't mind at all. Take your time."

Bloombot thanked you and you left the call, leaving her with Toasty to discuss their matters in private. You were being truthful that you didn't mind leaving them. Needing some time to process your thoughts, Toasty's love declaration from a moment ago was still ringing in your head.

"Fuck it, I love you."

They really said it, holy shit.

You look down and remembered the pink note in your hand where you had hastily scribble down his phone number, but you realized the note is now folded in a few places.

Fuck, you must've crumpled it in your excitement when you asked Toasty for their name.

Before Bloombot interrupted, that is.

God, you're such a lovesick dork. Your phone was right there next to the monitor and yet you chose to grab a PINK NOTE out of all things and wrote down the number like some swooning high schooler. A grin formed at your lips regardless as you read the number in your head again and again. You're so smitten it's ridiculous.

You wondered about Toaster's real name once again when a familiar sound effect rang from your computer and you look up to see xyx had messaged the general channel. The server is back up! Everyone flooded the channel with hellos, clearly happy to see each other again. You know you are too. It's almost unbelievable you somehow had managed to persuade a bot to not bring and end to your one source of happiness in this moment.

If Bloombot had really shut down the server…

Ugh, you don't even want to think about it. Especially not right after you and Toasty had just being honest about your feelings. You found such a special person in such a short amount of time but you cared for him too much to lose them in the matter of seconds.

The #juicy-gamers channel lit up and you already knew it was Toasty.

Click

NakedToaster: I just want to tell you again

i love you

a lot

FUCK, they're so affectionate now?! How the hell will you be able to handle this?

NakedToaster: text me tomorrow?

Oh, no. Bloombot's shut down yesterday gave you too much of a fright. You decided you need to call him now.

LovelyLola: how about i call you?

NakedToaster: now?

LovelyLola: no toasty, next year

jk lol

yes now

please, yesterday scared me

i want to hear you again

NakedToaster: fsjgdjdfh

fuck

ff

okau

okay

xyx: disgustang

LovelyLola: LMAO

NakedToaster: LMAO

xyx: get out of my christian server NOW

Your palms were a little sweaty mom's spaghetti so you wipe them down on your pants before dialing his number. The first ring didn't even finish before they picked up. Someone's eager.

Not that you can blame them.

"Hel- oh fuck-"

You hear a thud on the other end followed by the sound of someone clambering under what you assumed to be his chair, a string of curses tailing their noises.

Yep. You really love them.

"Sorry, my hand was uh…"

"Mhm?" You hum innocently, just to tease him a little.

"The.. the phone slipped, " an awkward chuckle buzzes through your speaker.

"I heard."

"Shut up," his voice was exasperated but affectionate. "Fuck, is this really how we're starting our first phone call?" You both laughed.

"Seems like it."

"Hm. I thought a it'd be kinda similar to the vc but this is… different. I mean, in a nice way!" he fumbled. "It feels more personal."

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passes you both, but the silence is comforting. It feels almost as if they're really there with you. God, you want them to be there with you.

"Anyways," you hear him taking a breath. "Hi."

You smile.

"Hi, Toasty."

[majorkphob]

I keep seeing that gif set of Lady Blemish looking so pityingly at Captain Hob and saying “My dear, sick, twisted, little Hob”, and all of the comments are of Brennan’s scrunchy little face, which is very fair, but this scene acknowledges that VAST difference in power between Hob and all of the arch fey and it absolutely WRECKS me.

Lady Blemish isn’t degrading Hob, she isn’t insulting or even complimenting him. She is acknowledging how easy it is for Hob to be controlled as a pawn for the whims of the fey, and how malleable he is in their eyes. Hob, out of all of the rest of the party, is in the most precarious position (certainly much more than Gwyndolin/Binx, whom the fey would rather sweep under the table than shove under a microscope).

We know that Hob is honorable and honest, either by his childish inability to lie or by his own code of morals (I don’t think the fey truly care which it is, either makes him easy prey). We see this from Hob’s own perspective during and after the duel, where he was taken advantage on a public stage by the most politically influential archfey: Wuvvy (and extent the Master of Ceremonies), the Lords of the Wing (who publicized and dramatized the event), Prince Andhera of the Unseelie Court (whom, unbeknownst to Hob at the time, was genuinely trying to help).

But I would actually say timeline wise- this wasn’t the first instance shown on screen where Hobs was manipulated (or under the impression that he had been manipulated). Unfortunately, I would say that this occurred during the Hart Hunt, when Delloso de la Rue, the Master of Ceremonies, the leader of this specific domain, took extreme offence to a seemingly innocuous action by the hands of Hob. Hob reached out to Rue. This most egregious of actions warranted them to swat this wretched, low born, *Hob Goblin* hand aside. As far as Captain Hob knows, Rue made emotional or romantic advances on him, then immediately closed off and removed themself from the encounter. Lady Blemish, and any politically savvy fey, would easily interpret that scene as Rue being yet another powerful archfey using Hob to manufacture a slight to later cause an incredible scene (the highly dramatized duel, for which a proper explanation was explicitly denied).

And interestingly, the most telling scene for me was actually on the part of Emily, whose nat 1 on an acrobatics check reminded us all exactly how petty these fey truly are. The Lords of the Wing, after reaching out to the Goblin Court (and promising a croquet match with Captain Hob himself), immediately blame their own misstep on Hob publicly and announce to everyone of this Seaside Tea Party the misgivings and blunders of the Goblin Courts. And leave Hob to apologize to them. And he must. For now the social pressure is on his shoulders alone to avoid yet another war.

Watch your steps, my dear, sick, twisted, little Hob, for what an honor it is to have the eyes of the Bloom on you. Oh how the vultures circle you so openly, as though even as your heart beats, the stench of your impending doom is enough to satiate their hunger.

[aldoesthings]

a long analysis of season 2 episode 13, “mizumono”

hello! after many days of deliberation, i've finally decided to go off the rails and write down all the thoughts i have about the thirteenth episode of season two, “mizumono”, as i consider it to be the best one in the series.

you better strap in folks, it's gonna be a long one. also, do keep in mind that these are just my personal thoughts- i'm in no way implying this is the "correct" interpretation to have about this episode, and i encourage you all to re-watch it and try to see how it makes you feel! reblogs are appreciated!

(also, @alas-the-void-screams-back wanted to be tagged in this, so here you go!)

first of all, i'd like to """briefly""" talk about what i consider nbc's hannibal to be about. as many before me have said, the series places an enormous deal of importance on the subject of being seen. but what does that actually mean?

the way i see it, the main characters of this show are opposites on the subject of how people perceive them. what i mean by this is that a lot of the people that surround hannibal- his acquaintances, his dinner guest- are merely distractions who think they know who the man in front of them is. the people surrounding will, on the other hand, are unable to shake the fortress he has built around himself. he's a mystery to them.

the shallow people around hannibal see the dinner parties, the colorful suits, the intellectuality of the man in front of them, and think that's what there is to see. but as he himself says, he has worked very hard to blind them.

will, on the other hand, is simply opposed to having people try to perceive him in any way- and yes, i know that sounds funny, but english isn't my first language and i have no better words for it- after all, his empathic nature has caused him to be unsure which parts of him are actually his, and what parts are simply reflections that have been left there by all the other minds he's entered during his life.

with all this being said, let's return to the theme. being "seen" is something that these two characters have both grown to be opposed to, hannibal to remain hidden under his person suit, and will to escape from having to address the darker thoughts in his head. this makes it even more enticing when they both realize that is what's happening between them.

the slow process of stripping away parts of themselves to show the other becomes intoxicating to them, even when they don't realize what that fully means, at least not yet.

let's start with the actual episode.

(keep in mind- i won't go over every single scene, just the ones that, y'know, i have something to say about, lol.)

the opening

so. the episode begins with hannibal inviting jack to dinner. by this point in the show, we are aware that will is playing both sides- but we, as the audience don’t yet know who he will end up helping in the end. the anticipation of it is what has driven us to this point, this conversation that is constructed in such a way that it seems as if the three characters are conversing to each other.

will carries himself through it with sharp retorts and answers. after all, he must feel some sort of sense of power- he is the only one that is holding all the cards in his hands, finally in control of the two most overbearing (in very different ways) presences in his life.

the mounting tension between the three is only adding fuel to the fire, as both jack and hannibal are almost desperate to make sure will is on their own side. this is where we also hear one of my all time favorite quotes from this series, written by thomas harris himself:

“when the fox hears the rabbit scream, it comes running. but not to help.”

not only is this hannibal trying to make sure will won’t betray him (the ever-distrustful bastard), it is also a perfect representation of hannibal himself- just think about the entirety of season one.

we don’t know whether will’s desire to see hannibal punished for what he has done is still greater than his own mounting need to be understood. audiences generally tend to latch onto the first version of a character we meet, almost being dismissive of negative changes in them when they happen, until they’re slapped in the face with a turning point so enormous it is impossible to ignore. this is, certainly, what has happened to will- we maybe, subconsciously, want to still see that fbi profiler that would have given up his own sanity to close a case, but the truth is that will has not been that in an extremely long time.

the office scene

ooh, boy. this scene is, quite literally, hannibal burning his whole life to the ground. his patient records, so intrinsically tied to his work life, something that has helped to craft the mask he wears every day, are getting carelessly tossed to the ground. just like they are being torn apart and burned, will is slowly tearing pieces of that mask away, leaving nothing but ashes.

it is so incredibly telling that as hannibal speaks of leaving this life behind, he uses the pronoun “we”, as if the idea of will not being with him in this new beginning is so preposterous, so unthinkable, that it hadn’t even crossed his mind. he talks about it freely, as if it is a given.

and will indulges this, mind you, talking about only needing a stream. and he is so truthful when saying this that the audience almost forgets what is actually happening, the fact that will is playing one step ahead, because in this conversation, he is not. he’s simply giving other pieces of himself to hannibal, because how could he not?

which is when the audience is abruptly reminded of the stinging betrayal they knew was coming.

this revelation (for hannibal) is so incredibly striking not only because we did not expect it to happen at that moment, but also because it now adds another element of suspense to the story of the episode. the piano sting accompanying what can only been described as the confused and hurt expression on hannibal’s face is what sealed the deal about this episode for me the first time i watched it (and i hadn’t even gotten to the really good parts yet).

this element, added to the ticking clock that can be heard throughout the entire episode (both a reminder and a count-down, for what, we don’t yet know), and to the knowledge that we have that this season will end with a bloody fight between jack and hannibal, is what makes us sit at the edge of our seat.

that kitchen. that damn kitchen

alright, well. let’s do this.

first of all, will’s call. all the doubts the audience had on where this character stood, doubts he had until this point, dissolve the moment he hears hannibal’s voice, as he himself states later on, in season three. simply hearing him say “hello” is enough for will to make a decision that he is aware will change the course of his life once more- the first change being meeting hannibal- and so he tells him, in a very succinct and quick way, as if ripping off a bandaid. “they know,” is all is said before he hangs up. yet, those words are an explanation, an offering, and an apology, all simultaneously.

the fight between jack and hannibal is as raw and brutal as we would expect of them. jack is a very real, flawed character, one that the audience is able to see themselves in for the entirety of the series: his unflinching belief in justice (and also his own hurt and rage) has brought him here, and as such he is driven by the need to make sure the chesapeake ripper hurts no one else. and if that means having to kill him, then so be it.

alana’s own attempt at hannibal’s life cements her as an incredibly strong, decided character. the burning shame she feels at having been blind to the monster in front of her gives way to a single-minded resolve to remedy her actions. this is followed by abigail’s reveal which, apart from being surprising (because, well, she’s alive), also shocks you when she, as far as she knows, murders alana, a woman that had been nothing but kind to her in the brief time they had known each other.

will finally walks into the kitchen, the core of hannibal’s house, its own beating heart. it has seen horrors beyond comprehension, humanity itself being laid out and eaten on its counters. it has seen and heard everything. that changes when will, soaked from the rain, quietly steps into it one last time.

will’s agonized expression at seeing abigail is quickly replaced by pure anger as he turns towards hannibal. he had called him, told him to go, to run away, offered it as an apology, and yet he had remained. and the answer hannibal gives is enough to shock him into silence.

“we couldn’t leave without you.”

hannibal has said them, the words that had been hanging in the air between the two of them for a while, and it almost seems like it should be a sin, putting what they had been feeling into words. will does not respond. how could he? he doesn’t make a sound, not even as hannibal cups his cheek. he knows what will happen.

the visual of hannibal tenderly holding will, opposed to the knife tearing through his abdomen and the absolute agony in his voice as he almost tries to silence his sobs and groans of pain, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the moment, is still one of the most horrifyingly beautiful scenes i’ve ever seen in a show.

the performance mads mikkelsen gives is raw, as hannibal starts talking and finally lets the audience understand what it feels like to be seen.

it is vile. it is like the other is reaching into your chest with their bare hands, shuffling your organs around, fundamentally changing your structure. it is feeling something claw its way up your throat, blocking it and constricting it, making you ask yourself if you’ll ever breathe again. it burns all the defenses one has built over time down to ash that the other is able to blow away with a small puff of air. it is something that makes you want to rip away the carefully constructed pieces of yourself you’ve created around your core, laying all the deepest parts of your conscience bleeding at the other’s feet.

it is beautiful. it is addicting, the feeling of not having to be afraid, because the other already knows you, sees you for who you are, even when you truly, desperately tried to hide it. they see the dark and still accept you despite it all- no, not despite it all, because of it all. it is intoxicating.

hannibal is sure, so sure, that what will has done is reject him. the heaviness of being seen is immediately followed by the disgusting, painful beyond belief, sting of betrayal. after all, he has tried to trap him, and will knows this.

the hot shame of having laid yourself bare in front of someone else has made hannibal lash out, desperate to protect the exposed, delicate parts he’s showed. his words ring in will’s head, and still then, laying on the floor, feeling the life drain from his body, he needs to reassure hannibal that no, he would’ve never taken his life from him. but to hannibal, his life is synonymous with his freedom. if he is not free, he is not alive.

and yet, as hannibal slices abigail’s throat while will begs him under them, as she lays down too, resigned to the fact she is destined to die on her father’s kitchen floor, forgiveness has already taken place inside hannibal’s heart. something he cannot explain, something he will carry with him.

mizumono is capable of showing its themes of love and betrayal in such a nuanced, precise way. the dialogue, the characters, are so finely tuned that nothing, not one single line, feels out of place.

i know this was a bit long, but hey, i just wanted to get it out. please, the only thing i ask in return is for the people who read this to reblog it- i’m incredibly proud of it! i’d like for it to be read by many! thank you for stopping by. ;)

[alovorso]

A drawing for a special person. Not happy with the end result and the blurred colour i created while I put on the last gloss. But someone mentioned that you learn from your mistakes so i‘m believe in this for now on haha.

[fitztragedy]

[imhereformr]

Came across this post by melodiesandfairywings, and I thought #14 was fun so I wrote a oneshot based on it.

Musa wasn’t even sure how she’d ended up at the party – some friend of a friend of a friend had mentioned it maybe. She was sure that, if asked, she could never pinpoint the host. Whoever they were, though, they had a nice home. She’d only seen the entry hall with its golden walls, extravagant art pieces and chandelier, and the living room where she was currently wandering through a throng of people she’d never seen before. 

“You came!” a voice shouted, she was pretty sure, at her. 

It took her a minute of trying to look over heads, but she successfully identified the voice as Aisha’s, one of the dancers on her tour, and the person, Musa was willing to bet, who’d invited her to this party. They’d only met a few times since rehearsals had only started two weeks earlier, but Musa liked her. Aisha was witty, and gorgeous. Tall, with dark skin and mesmerizing blue eyes. Her hair was done up in braids and decorated with beads that matched her eyes. 

“Yeah, well. I didn’t have much else going on tonight.” 

“I’m going to pretend that what you actually said was Gosh, Aisha, thanks so much for inviting me.” 

“Gosh, Aisha. Thanks so much for inviting me” Musa parroted. Aisha chuckled at her mockery before insisting on introducing Musa to her friends. They walked through the crowds, Aisha introducing Musa to a bunch of people whose names she’d never remember. Some she may remember by face – like the guy with the elaborate twirly moustache that must be held in place by a pound of gel.  

When they reached the kitchen with its teal cabinetry and coral pink island chairs, Aisha b-lined for a group by the patio door. “And these are my friends-“ 

“Who were those other people then?” 

“People” Aisha shrugged. Musa laughed. Tecna, her best friend, would die at the idea of socialising with people she wasn’t friends with. If Tecna had her way, she’d never have to talk to anyone except the very few people she liked again. Musa could be social, but at her core, she tended to be a loner. She knew people, but nowhere near as many as Aisha apparently did.  

Aisha introduced her friends: Stella, the hostess of the party, a perky blonde that dressed like she had walked off a runway. Brandon, Stella’s supermodel boyfriend, who apparently was not a supermodel, but rather a soccer player. Flora, with a sugary sweet voice, and a smile that made Musa want to entrust the girl with her deepest secrets and worries. Helia, her artistic boyfriend who Stella proudly boasted had painted most of the pieces in her entryway. And Nabu, Aisha’s boyfriend, who had spent the last few minutes looking at Aisha like she was the sun.  

“This is Musa” Aisha finished, motioning to Musa.  

“Oh, you’re the singer!” Stella’s excited shout caused a few people to look their way. The blonde bashfully apologised before continuing. “Aisha made me listen to the album-“ 

“How did you…” Musa’s debut album was only slated to come out in a week, followed by a short national tour that would start four months later. No one except Musa’s close friends, members of the tour, and those that had worked on the record had heard it. None of them had it in their possession, though.  

“I got it from Dufour. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“So much for an NDA” Musa laughed.  

“It’s not completely breaking the NDA. Stella’s your costume designer.” 

“And I have so many ideas!” Stella didn’t wait to be prompted before going off about her many, admittedly, great ideas for Musa’s costumes, as well as the dancers, the band, she even thought of costumes for the stagehands. Musa interrupted to tell her that wouldn’t be necessary. Stella shrugged off her comment about the stagehands and continued to explain her ideas based on concepts in Musa’s album. Everyone in the group didn’t bat an eye at Stella’s verbal diarrhea, so Musa assumed it must be normal for her.  

The conversation moved on, Brandon brought her a beer, a redhead that was introduced as Bloom joined the group, Stella wandered away to play the gracious hostess, Flora told them about her and Helia’s wedding plans, and Nabu made her laugh so much her side started to hurt. Musa liked them. They were friendly. Nabu suggested they move away from the doorway and onto the patio when people started heading outside for a late-night dip in Stella’s pool, so they ended up by the wall just beside the door on the patio. 

And that was where she saw him.  

He was sitting on one of the pool chairs with a drink in his hand looking rather uninterested in the whole scene. He ran his hand through slicked back maroon hair and took a sip of his drink, flexing his muscle in Musa’s direction. He was gorgeous.  

“Who’s that?” Musa leaned into Aisha to whisper, nodding at the man.  

Aisha turned her head very much not subtly to look at him. “No clue. He’s hot, though. Maybe Stella knows.” The dancer started to look inside, trying to find the hostess. Musa kept looking at the man, wondering why he wasn’t having fun. Everyone she’d met was so nice. Maybe he just needed to talk to someone.  

He looked at her.  

Dead on.  

Full on caught her staring at him. 

Musa felt the heat rush up her cheeks. He was looking right at her, and she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from him. Like he’d transfixed her in place with smoldering eyes and sharp cheekbones. Oh, and he was tall – she loved them tall (though, really, to her 5’2”, everyone was tall). God, he was really nicely toned too; his muscles almost seem to ripple when he moved. She bet he h- 

“Girl, he’s coming this way.” 

“What?” Musa yelped. Sure enough, when she looked back at him, he was a few feet from them. And everyone other than Aisha had left, she realised seconds later. When had that happened? How long had she been watching him?  

“Hi.” He shoved his hands in his front pockets. Musa felt a tight smile reach her lips as his eyes roamed over her, stopping when they finally met hers. She tried to think of something to say – maybe something funny or smart, or maybe just hi – but her brain seemed to have spontaneously combusted. Every word that she knew had either combusted with every other thought she had, or they’d escaped by jumping out of her brain.   

“Hi! I’m Aisha” the dancer said, elbowing Musa in the ribs and successfully snapping her out of her trance. “This is Musa.” 

An amused smirk appeared on his face as his gaze strayed over to Aisha and back to her. “Riven.” 

Aisha excused herself, coming up with the most half-assed excuse. I have to be... not here. She really could’ve at least said she had to pee.  

Musa took a deep breath, trying to calm her brain and nerves and vagina. 

 “So, what brings you to this party?” she asked, mentally berating herself for such a stupid question. He really looked so fucking good that any semi-interesting thought had slipped her mind. She was a sucker for tight black tees and jeans, especially when the wearer was six feet tall and built like a god.  

“Masochism.” 

“You’re obviously the life of every party you attend.” 

He smirked. “That obvious?” 

“Blatantly, yes” she deadpanned. 

“I’m amazed we haven’t been stopped by someone coming to say hi to you.” 

Riven laughed. He had a nice laugh. He leaned into her, resting his palm against the brick wall behind her. “It’s cause they can tell I’m much more interested in talking to you.” 

“Just talking?” Musa asked sweetly, looking up at him through her lashes. He swallowed heavily, a blush that was only slightly visible thanks to the dim outdoor lights rising to his cheeks. Riven looked over at the partygoers, so she took her chances. His stubble brushed lightly against her hand as she cupped his cheek and pulled his face down towards her. “Just talking?” she asked again, this time in a more suggestive tone.  

“Maybe I had a bit more in mind, but I’m a gentleman -” 

“Are you?” she scoffed. 

“I’m a feminist?” He tried again. 

“Oh?” 

“I was gonna wait for you to make the first move!” 

“You approached me.” 

“To talk.”  

“Right.” 

Riven backed up a bit. “Am I right in getting the feeling you don’t want to?” 

“I don’t want to...? Fuck you?”  

“Y-yeah.” 

Musa smirked, enjoying the switch that had just occurred. She much preferred being the predator; he had just caught her off guard. She pushed herself off the wall and leaned into him. At her instruction, he bent down to hear her whisper: “You’re very wrong. I very much want to.” 

In what must have been the world’s worst timing, Stella’s voice cut into their bubble. It took Musa a moment to realise that the other members of the group – save for Aisha who was looking at them menacingly from across the patio – were coming back. All through the re-expansion of the group, Musa couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was so goddamn beautiful. She drowned in his gaze, died in his gaze and went to heaven where she found herself floating above dark violet clouds, looking at him. It should be criminal for someone to be that attractive. 

“Do you two want access to one of the guestrooms so you can fuck and get this staring contest over with?”  

Musa went red at Stella’s offer, but well… she wouldn’t say no.  

The corners of Riven’s lips lifted. He tilted his head and raised his brows at her, asking if she wanted to. Musa bit her lower lip – she'd never had sex at a party before, much less a party at someone else’s house. What a specimen he was for that first-time experience. She didn’t have qualms about people hearing her – and she’d been told that she was, well, loud – but a situation this crowded would make her a bit more self-conscious normally. Everyone would understand immediately with a single look at Riven, though. 

It dawned on her that the entire group was waiting, looking at her, waiting for an answer. She, in the meantime, had been zoning out, letting her desire control her thoughts. A distressing and embarrassing heat rushed up her neck and cheeks. That asshole had taken the moment to regain control. Predator, not prey, she reminded herself. “I wouldn’t say no to that,” she replied coolly, returning Riven’s lusty gave.  

“If you don’t mind,” she added, remembering that she was a guest in Stella’s home.  

“Mind? Absolutely not, dahling. The housekeeper changes those sheets after every party for a reason.”  

Stella was up in seconds, leading the way through the packed house. Musa and Riven exchanged a quick glance that was interrupted by Aisha urging them to follow. They stood up and followed Stella as she wound through bodies to the palatial house’s entryway. He stood a few inches behind her the whole way, once putting his hand against the small of her back to swerve her out of the way of spilling beer.  

They followed Stella up the ‘off limits’ staircase on the right-hand side of the front door to the start of a soft pink hallway lined with more artwork – mainly fashion sketches – and plants. She stopped at the second door on the left, unlocked it and walked away with nothing more than a wink. 

She followed Riven in, closing the door behind her. She turned to him and leaned against the door. The guest room was painted light blue with an accent navy wall against which a bed with a navy duvet. There were other things in the room – two bedside tables with matching lamps, a single chair in the corner, some dark wood dressers, various knick-knacks – but they were lost to her. 

Riven sat on the edge of the bed, his shoes and shirt had already been discarded. She purred appreciatively at the sight before her; chiseled abs, arms that could squeeze tightly or pick her up and fuck her against the wall, a jawline that could cut glass, and lustful violet eyes that sent shivers up her spine.  

He looked up at her, inviting her to join him. Not wasting a moment, Musa leapt towards him, pulling off her own shirt as she went. She climbed over him, straddling him as she pulled him into the steamy kiss she’d been dreaming of. 

“You said an hour” he grumbled between kisses.  

She laughed as she trailed kisses down his jaw. “I said about an hour.” 

“Three hours can’t even be close to considered about an hour, babe” he countered.  

Musa sat upright and ran a finger along his chest, giving him her best innocent pout. “Still love me?” 

Riven rolled his eyes, an amused grin lighting up his features. She loved when he smiled – genuinely smiled, not that stupid cocky smirk. He was always most beautiful when he smiled, even better when he smiled for her. The first time she’d seen him genuinely smile, almost five years ago now, was the moment she’d fallen in love with him; the moment her crush had become this all-encompassing need to be his, to do everything she could to make him happy.  

“You know I do” he whispered before pulling her back into a kiss that melted her whole being.  

[toreii]

Bloom Birthday translation - Vil Schoenheit

DO NOT REPOST OR UPLOAD ELSEWHERE

Pomefiore Dorm - Birthday Party Venue

Vil: “I’ve retouched my makeup. I wonder what the interview will be like today.”

Vil: “Unlike work topics, there may be a lot of private discussions.”

???: “—Excuse me.”

Jade: “Happy birthday, Vil-san. Thank you for your time today.”

Vil: “Thank you very much, Jade. You’re the presenter this time.”

Vil: “A good interview depends on what you ask. Do you have any expectations?”

Jade: “This is a big responsibility. Let’s do our best.”

Jade: “Then, let’s start the interview. The first question is…”

Jade: “‘Are you good at flying, or not good at flying?’”

Vil: “I’m not bad at it, but I’m also not particularly good at it either. My grades are also about average.”

Vil: “I’d be lying if I said I’m satisfied with my current state…However, I’m not desperate to compete with others.”

Vil: “It seems many students with top grades received specialized training before enrolling.”

Jade: “Oh? Could it be that Vil-san started studying magic in earnest after entering the school?”

Vil: “That’s right. When I was little, I moved from place to place with my father, an actor, while I also had a job as a child actor…”

Vil: “Just because I manifested magic didn’t mean I thought about entering a magician training school right away.”

Vil: “Even if someone close to me taught me, my father is too busy to use magic in the first place.”

Jade: “Your father isn’t a magician. So, what makes Vil-san good at magic is…”

Vil: “You mean my mother? Hm, who knows.”

Vil: “I don’t know who she is, or whether or not she was a magician. I never thought to find out myself.”

Jade: “Is that so. Regardless, it is surprising. Vil-san has been learning magic since childhood.”

Vil: “Oh? Why is that?”

Jade: “Because……you’re a talented individual chosen to be the housewarden of Pomefiore dorm.”

Vil: “If you think making cosmetics as medicinal magic, then I certainly studied before enrolling.”

Vil: “But, I learned a lot more at Night Raven College.”

Vil: “Speaking of which, I may use flying skills to a certain extent. Not for grades, but for my work.”

Jade: “When it comes to work…modeling? No, as an actor, perhaps.”

Vil: “The latter. CG and wires are often used to shoot scenes in the air.”

Vil: “If you use flying techniques, the range of expression should expand. Not only can it be used for acting, but for shooting.”

Jade: “Works using flying skills…I’m intrigued. I would like to see it.”

Vil: “The day may come when we can unveil it. I look forward to it.”

…………

Jade: “Now then, next question.”

Jade: “‘How is using magic good?’”

Vil: “Spending a wonderful holiday with my father……perhaps.”

Jade: “A wonderful holiday with your father. Under what circumstances did you use magic?”

Vil: “It was my first holiday since I enrolled to Night Raven College.”

Vil: “It had been a long time since my father and I were able to take a day off together, so we decided to go out on the town.”

Vil: “The plan was to have lunch, do some shopping, and then see a movie my father starred in the evening.”

Vil: “Soon after lunch, the paparazzi found me. I thought I was wearing a proper disguise.”

Jade: “A disaster on a long awaited holiday.”

Vil: “Absolutely. They were really vindictive guys. They didn’t give up even when they hid in the shadows, or got lost in the crowd.”

Vil: “I can hide myself with magic now…but, at the time, I didn’t have the skill to do that.”

Jade: “That said, I don’t think Vil-san would fall prey to the paparazzi so easily.”

Vil: “Of course. I tricked the paparazzi with a simple spell.”

Jade: “And, that spell was……”

Vil: “Color changing spell. I suddenly remembered what I learned in class…”

Vil: “I changed the color scheme of mine and my father’s clothes. That way, the image changed.”

Vil: “That day, both of us had bold outfits based on neon colors…”

Vil: “I used magic to change the color of the top with the largest area to milky white.”

Vil: “Even with the same item, the atmosphere changes when the color is different. It changed to an elegant outfit.”

Vil: “Not to mention, the unity of the accessories. The bag was changed to a pale pink. The color of the accessories from silver to gold.”

Vil: “Sure enough, the paparazzi were deceived, and we escaped brilliantly.”

Jade: “With only color changing magic……it certainly is quick witted, unique to Vil-san who is well versed in magic.”

Jade: “The paparazzi must’ve been confused when they lost sight of the two of you.”

Vil: “Yes, they were really impatient.”

Vil: “The frantic look on their face when they ran away without realizing we were right next to them…”

Vil: “Haha! Remembering it now makes me laugh.”

Vil: “At the time, I was able to outwit those rude guys, and feel satisfied.”

Vil: “After that, my father praised me.”

Vil: “It’s a nice coordination making use of the black bottoms I originally wore.”

Jade: “Well, it’s good to be able to use magic, and show your father your growth.”

Jade: “Thank you for sharing your heartwarming and wonderful memories.”

Vil: “You’re welcome. Now, for the next question.”

…………

Jade: “Finally, the next question is the last one.”

Jade: “‘What do you wish to do one year from now?’”

Vil: “Before I retire, I want to leave a mark in the film studies club.”

Jade: “Do you mean that you intend to work more on club activities this year?”

Vil: “Exactly. My goal is to submit the work I’ve done in film studies to a contest, and win the top prize.”

Jade: “I think it’s a great goal. Indeed, it was Vil-san who established the Film Studies Club.”

Vil: “Right, I can’t let my acting sense dull.”

Vil: “When I came to school, I decided to reject all long-term filming in order to concentrate on my studies.”

Jade: “I see. Initially, it was a place to hone your acting skills.”

Jade: “But now, you are aiming for the top prize. Could it be you have a new ambition?”

Vil: “You’re pretty perceptive.”

Vil: “The purpose of “creating a place to perform” when it was inaugurated, has already been achieved.”

Vil: “However, as I worked in Film Studies, my interest expanded beyond acting.”

Jade: “Something other than acting……”

Vil: “Work as a director or producer. Knowing the fun of producing works through Film Studies activities…”

Vil: “I have come to believe that it’s not a bad thing to be active not only on the side of being filmed, but also on the side of filming.”

Jade: “That’s surprising. I thought Vil-san would continue acting in movies.”

Vil: “Of course, I won’t quit acting.”

Vil: “But, I want to explore all aspects that make a movie other than acting.”

Jade: “Ah, that’s why you said you wanted to win the prize.”

Vil: “Yes. The club members are also passionate about club activities, and I’m sure they will be able to produce good results this year.”

Vil: “……No, I will definitely make it happen with this hand.”

Jade: “Vil-san, thank you for telling us a very interesting story.”

Jade: “Now then, please accept this broom.”

Vil: “My, it’s a beautiful broom. The tip is decorated with flowers.”

Jade: “Yes. The large flowers that are in full bloom are very suitable for Vil-san.”

Vil: “Thank you. I also like it since it seems to add color to the figure flying in the sky.”

Vil: “Well, I should head over to the Birthday Road soon.”

Jade: “Yes, please be careful. I am looking forward to seeing Vil-san fly gorgeously.”

Vil: “Heh, I’ll show you more than what you expected, so watch closely.”

Vil: “Fufu……I will captivate everyone more than usual with my beauty flying in the sky.”

[satanicgingermom]

i don’t think i’ve ever uploaded art here before, but there’s a first time for everything! i can’t believe it’s been two years since i wrote these bi idiots into a time loop. in case your wondering, yes they would still be stuck. 

[wordsoftheheartandsoul]

Give It to God You've been carrying the weight long enough. It's time to release and move forward. Give God every worry that is clouding your mind and judgement. Give Him the mistakes of yesterday and condemnation that is keeping you stuck there. Give Him those people who have hurt you to your core. Give Him your past, present, and future. Most importantly, give Him your cares, concerns, tears, and hopes - and then walk away. Don't let your discomfort or timetable lead you to believe that God doesn't have it handled. He's got in it His way and in His time. Give everything to Him and keep it there. Some battles simply are not ours to fight or figure out.

Morgan Richard Olivier - Blooming Bare