#at least for my own blog organization purposes

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[goingmerryfics]

❤️ Your Blog. Can I request something? 🙏 Id love about Law and reader who is very affectionate and caring, e.g. brings him snacks in his office when he's working late, cheers him up when he is upset. All in all reminds Law alot of Cora.

Kind and caring S/O w/ Law

Content: Gender Neutral reader, SFW!

Notes* I love this idea! I got a lot of good ideas when I sat down to write this and it all pretty much amounts to “this man truly needs a break.” which means I went a little haywire with it. Spoilers for Dressrosa/Law's backstory

Happy reading :)

Law

Dating you was absolute bliss for Law

If he was shut up in his room working, he knew he could count on you to come visit eventually

Even if, after responding to your knocking and saying that he was busy, you still enter

You’ve got some lemon water and specially made Onigiri by your own hand all set up pretty in a tray

He tries not to smile too much while you set it down, kiss the top of his head, and quietly urge him to take a break- or at least stand and stretch because how he’s sitting can’t be good for his posture

Normally he wouldn’t pay that any mind, but you had an effect on him that he couldn’t explain. You gave him a special sort of feeling in his heart- a feeling that only one other person had ever given him in his entire life

Law gets up to stretch and to reach for you, that way he can press a kiss to your cheek and tell you he loves you

You’ve noticed he’s softer around you, though he never could quite tell you why

You also notice that whenever you two are sitting close or lying together, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing- he likes to look into your eyes as much as he can

He can’t explain it- it doesn’t matter that your eyes aren’t exactly the same colour as his. They’re kind, they’re caring, just like he is

One day, the heat on the submarine gives out and you seek Law out to ask a favour

“One of my sweaters? Yeah, you can borrow one. Just don’t ruin it.”

The warning means nothing, he knows you wouldn’t destroy any of his things on purpose

So you head for his room while he returns to helping the others fix the heat, shivering in your suit

Law’s room is an organized mess of books, clothes and sheets. He was never the type to keep anything clean for too long, but then again he was a busy man. You didn’t mind it, but you do know how he appreciates it when you can help him out with the little things. First, a sweater. You swear that you’re about to start seeing your breath from how cold it’s getting.

You dive into his closet and sort through his things for that yellow one you like, when you notice something interesting. Something hung up, obviously important since it’s in one of those zippable clothing protectors. A suit, maybe?

The thought of Law in a suit makes you squeal a bit. Now you have to see it.

Carefully, you take the hangar out and your first remark is at how incredibly light it is. It’s not heavy enough to be a full suit set, so you start to unzip it to satisfy your curiosity.

A few loose, black feathers hit the ground before you can figure out what you’re looking at. It’s a full feather coat. It looks like it’s been tailored- the collar has been cautiously cut with a loving hand, which makes you remember the strangely similar style of feather collar on his blue sweatshirt. There are also some messy holes in the back of it.

You hum curiously, and put it back into the protector bag for the time being. Then you grab the sweater you’d come here for, take the hangar, and bring the coat with you back to your room.

The heat returns. Heart Pirates huddle around the heat and try to warm up quickly, but Law has a better idea in mind on how to warm up. He also just really wants to see you in his clothing. But he spots something as he’s headed down the hall that makes his heart drop. A single black feather.

He’s wearing his blue sweater and he hasn't touched the coat. So why…

He rushes first to his room, throws the closet door open and his eyes widen at the missing coat, so he makes a B-Line for your room

It’s not that he thought you would wreck it, but it’s something he’d rather keep safe. Those feathers fell off every time he touched it, and he wanted so desperately to preserve the last item he’d ever have of his beloved Corazon.

When he reaches your room, he barges right in without knocking and finds you holding it up, looking it over. Your room is a mess of loose thread. Your desk has sewing scissors and a little ball with various sized sewing needles poking out of it, and your sewing machine is on.

“See?” You hold it up to him, showing off your handiwork. Slack-jawed, he scans over the once bullet holes that have now been expertly closed and repaired. “I’ve never seen you wear this, but I guess it’s because all those feathers kept falling off, right?”

He’s silent, but he knows just what he wants to say. It just takes him a moment.

“Law?” You ask, smile falling a bit, thinking maybe you’d done something wrong.

“Put it on.”

“Huh?” You take another good look at the coat. “You sure?”

He nods, and watches how you pull it over your shoulders. It’s way too big for you- did a damn giant wear this!? -but you still strike a pose, holding up a peace sign next to your face for Law and grinning wide.

“Do I look good?”

He takes a few steps forward. You open your eyes again and get the quick glimpse of tears in his eyes before he pulls you in for a hug tight enough to crack your spine. You can hear his quiet sobs and gasps in your ear, and it breaks your heart to think that maybe you’d done something wrong.

But he whispers that he loves you, and then he whispers it 3 more times just to be sure. You tell him you love him too, and he takes a deep breath to pull himself together.

“Are you ok, Law?” You ask, eyes glued to him. “I can put it back if-”

“No, just…” He wipes his face, then takes your hands. “I think there’s someone I’d like to tell you about.”

[fanartandfanfiction]

Sick

Inspired by @ellivenollivander and @damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog

Ominis is sick and you’ve stepped in to take care of him.

Word count: 1773 SFW, just some cute fluff

—————————————

“ACHOO!” Ominis sneezed into the sleeve of his robe.

“Watch it, mate! You nearly sneezed on me!” Sebastian grumbled.

“I’m sorry, it’s not like I could SEE YOU.”

“Why don’t you just give up and go see Nurse Blainey?”

“I don’t NEED to see nurse Blainey. I’m not-“ his sentence was cut off with another sneeze.

“At least go to bed. I’ll tell your professors you’re sick. Everyone would much prefer you keep your germs to yourself.”

“I feel like I should sneeze on you on purpose now.” Ominis grumbled. Though going back to bed did sound pretty great, since navigating without sight was its own challenge, and adding dizziness to the mix wasn’t helping.

He went back to his dorm and flopped down on his bed. He didn’t even bother changing out of his school clothes. He coughed into his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, he was woken to the sound of a knock. “It’s open!” He shouted, though slightly muffled.

“Ominis? It’s me.” You said as you cracked open the door.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He sat up and sniffed.

“Sebastian said you were sick. I’m here to help.”

Ominis smiled sweetly at you. “Thank you, but I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” He stood up from his bed and stumbled. You grabbed onto him to steady him.

“Ominis! You’re burning up!” You pressed your hand to his forehead. He jumped at the unexpected touch, but then leaned into your hand.

“Am I? Because frankly it feels like I’m in a refrigerator.”

“You need to get back in bed. Do you want to change into pajamas? I can step out.”

“Sure.” Ominis stepped toward his dresser and staggered again.

“Ok, change of plans. Sit down, I’ll get them.” You led him to the bed and sat him down in the side. You went over to his dresser and opened a drawer, your cheeks coloring a bit as you looked at his underwear.

“Third drawer.” He grumbled. You opened the third drawer and chuckled.

“What?”

“This is the most neatly organized pajama drawer I’ve ever seen. I don’t know why I’m surprised.” You pulled out a soft T-shirt (that you kind of wanted to steal) and plaid green pajama pants. “Alright, here we go.” You reached for his shirt button and he jumped.

“What are you doing?!”

“Unbuttoning your shirt?” You reached for it again.

His eyes widened. “You are NOT changing my clothes. I’ll do it.” He stood up and stumbled, clutching his head. “Ugh, my ears are ringing and I’m terribly dizzy.” He attempted to unbutton his shirt and his hands were shaking. He hoped you would attribute it to being sick, and not the idea of you undressing him.

“That’s what I’m here for. Now, let me help you.”

Ominis’ cheeks were tinted pink as you began unbuttoning his shirt. You slid it off his shoulders, briefly admiring his chiseled abdomen. You knew he was fit, but DAMN.

“Are you done staring?” He smirked.

“Sorry. Put your arms up.” He sighed and put his arms up, and you tugged the shirt on over his head. “Alright, um, what about pants?”

“I’m not letting you take my pants off!” This was embarrassing enough.

“Sit on the edge of the bed. I’ll step out, just give a shout when you’re done.” You placed the pajama pants in his hand and left the room. You leaned against the door and exhaled. You thought you’d done well at hiding your crush on your friend, but now that you knew what he looked like without a shirt on, it was going to be much more difficult.

“Alright, you can come back.”

You entered and smiled at Ominis in his pajamas. You hadn’t thought he could get any cuter. You were wrong. “Ok, mister. Into bed with you.”

“You don’t have to speak to me like a child.” He grumbled. You helped him under the covers and he was shivering.

“I made a stop by the hospital wing on my way here. This will help with the fever.” You pressed a vial into his hand. He downed it and made a face. “Fair warning, it’ll make you drowsy. Nurse Blainey said you might feel a bit funny too, it’s pretty strong.”

“I feel fine. My tongue is fuzzy.” He began sticking out his tongue and touching it.

“Oh dear. Maybe you should get some rest. I’ll leave you alone.”

“You’re leaving?” He said, looking like a scared child.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay with you or not.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.” He pouted.

“That’s fine.” You smiled. “I suppose I can conjure a chair.”

“Will you sit with me?” He patted the bed. He looked adorable, and you just wanted to hug him.

“Of course.” You walked over to his bed and sat beside him.

“I’m f-freezing.” His teeth were chattering.

“Come here, I’ve got you.” You reached for him and he leaned away.

“I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Don’t worry, I rarely get sick. Your fever will come down soon. In the meantime, you can share my body heat.” You reached for him and this time he let you pull him over. You blushed as his head rested on your chest. His body was shaking and you held him tightly.

“I feel awful.” He whined.

“I know.” You began stroking his hair and he sighed contendedly. If it weren’t for the damn flu, this was heaven. He could hear your heart beating, and it soothed him, as well as the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. Your hand felt wonderful as you stroked his hair.

He couldn’t remember a single time in his life he’d been comforted like this. If you got sick at the Gaunt house, you were quarantined to your room and fended for yourself. His father had been furious once when he caught the flu from Ominis. He shuddered as he remembered his harsh punishment.

“Are you still cold?” You asked. You pulled the covers tighter around him and rested your head on his. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

He snuggled tighter against you. He felt so safe, so loved…

Come to think of it, you were one of the only people that touched him. He preferred it that way, but didn’t mind one bit when you’d take his hand to lead him somewhere or bump his leg under the table to wake him up during history of magic. There was something so wonderful about your touch. It would be easy to get addicted to.

At some point he drifted off to sleep, waking to the feeling of a cool rag on his forehead. Why was he so hot?

“Your fever is coming down. The cool washcloth should help.” You’d been leaning over him and began to walk away. He let out a small whimpering sound that broke your heart. “I’m right here.” You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t leave.” He whined.

“I’m not.”

“You did!” He pouted. You smiled at his pouty demeanor. You walked back around to the other side of the bed and got in it again.

Ominis immediately scooted over to cuddle you again. “Will you rub my head again?”

“Of course.” You began working your fingers through his hair again and he sighed.

“Promise you won’t leave”

“I won’t.” You smiled down at him. Ominis surprised you by wrapping both arms around you and pulling you close. The poor boy was miserable.

You hated to wake him up, he was sleeping so peacefully, but it was lunchtime and he needed to eat.

“Ominis.” You whispered softly and stroked his hair. “Wake up, Omi.”

He grumbled in response and buried his head in your chest.

“You need to eat and stay hydrated.”

“Not hungry.” He mumbled.

“That’s too bad. Sebastian is bringing us lunch.”

“Stay with me until he gets here.”

“I will.” You looked down and saw a wide grin on his face. “Why are you smiling?”

“I like it when you take care of me. No one has ever done that.”

It broke your heart, thinking of your own mother caring for you when you were sick. You couldn’t imagine never having anyone take care of you.

“You deserve to be taken care of.”

Ominis got very still and you wondered if he’d fallen asleep again. Then you felt a tear drop on your arm. “Omi?”

“Say it again.”

You hugged him tightly. “You deserve to be taken care of.”

You felt more tears hit your arm and you wanted to kiss them away. “Ominis. Look at me.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t.” He smirked.

“So sick and still so much attitude.” You chuckled. He looked up at you and you touched his cheek. “You deserve to be taken care of. You deserve to be loved. You deserve all the happiness in the world, Ominis, and if I could give it to you, I would.”

His expression was hard to read and you were afraid you’d overstepped. Then he smiled. “You already give me so much happiness. More than I ever expected to have.”

“Really?”

Ominis sniffed and sat up. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time but that cold medicine has made me feel a bit brave. I am hopelessly in love with you, Y/n. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but I can’t keep it hidden any longer. I-“

You cut off his words with a kiss. He kissed you back at first, then shoved you back. “What are you doing, you maniac?! You’ll most definitely get the flu if you kiss me!”

“Oh well. We can be sick together.” You kissed him again, then held him to you.

“Am I interrupting?” Sebastian asked from the doorway.

“Yes.” Ominis grumbled.

“Merlin, if both of you get sick, don’t expect me to coddle you.”

“Oh good, you brought lunch! Come here, Sebastian, let me give you a thank you hug.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, we can all be sick together!”

“Keep your germs to yourself!” Sebastian shouted as you chased after him. Ominis smiled to himself as he heard your laughter. Perhaps this flu was the best thing to happen to him.

-two days later-

You blew your nose while Ominis ran his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Don’t be, I’d do it again!” You grinned as he kissed your forehead.

“I hate both of you.” Sebastian grumbled from his own bed.

“Someone is a grumpy patient.” You gave him a teasing smile.

“Oh, bite me.”

[fallow-hollow]

Hi may I request Pattadol with gn tall-man reader where she crushes on us when she and canaries came for their work? I really want canaries to tease her(ye even slowly rehabilitating Mithrun) I can imagine her trying postpone their departure to at the very least confess before leaving after everything's done, coming up with weird reasons until her new job given by the Queen allows her to stay a bit(by elf standards) more.

deadline extension

ft… pattadol, the canaries

tags… pining, fluff, open-ended, reader is a tallman, the canaries being nosy, marking as spoilers but honestly there isn’t much

word count... 1654

notes… WE’RE SO BACK BABYYYYYYY if you cannot tell by my blog theming, i love pattadol, so of course i’m gonna be super excited to write for her as well!! i started this request a while ago and only finished it up recently, so I apologize if it strays a bit from the prompt by accident!! i live to create good side characters fics for you guys <3

Being as high strung as she is, there’s no way Pattadol will react well to this.

Most of her interactions outside the Canaries are purely for work purposes, and since her team never stays in one place for too long, making friends with the locals was never a priority of hers.

Truth be told, though, it only really takes one compliment to have her smitten. All her coworkers pretty much never take her seriously, so it’s a nice change of pace for someone to actually listen to her for once…

“This dungeon is currently in what we would call stage four.” The other Canaries stood a slight distance behind Pattadol, most appearing generally disinterested in a speech she had most certainly given many times before. “We separate the life cycles of dungeons into five stages from beginning to end. The fifth is the most dangerous, so we do our best to avoid it at all costs, which is why we do our best to seal the dungeon during the third or fourth stage.”

The whole time she spoke, you stood at attention, enraptured by her words. “So dungeons are like their own living organisms, then?” A bright spark danced in your eyes, burning brighter when fed this fuel of information. “I’ve never seen another adventurer think of dungeons as much except for a dangerous place with money to be made.”

She watched the way your fingers flexed while you held the hilt of your sword, but never quite unsheathed it. In fact, she’d been so engrossed by your body lactate that she squeaked in surprise when you continued.

“Your knowledge is very impressive. I see now why the elves of the west have such a widespread reputation!” After a pause, the corners of your smile rose just a bit higher to add, “however, I’m sure your individual merit is just as evident.”

“Ah!” Behind her, Cithis smirked when the shorter woman’s ears perked up. Trying to show humility at your praise, a pale hand waved in front of her. “Such is expected of someone in my position. We are all here to ensure the safety of the public!”

Though, she highly doubted there was another member of the public as pleasurable to serve as you were.

You come back each day with more questions, and, time permitting, she’s happy to answer. At times, she will have to wave you away when she’s busy with other matters, and the disappointed look on her face almost makes her wish she hadn’t.

Before any of them catch on, her coworkers are mostly either annoyed at her getting distracted or relieved to have even a moment away from her watchful eye and strict attitude.

The first to realize what’s going on is pretty much a tie between Cithis and Mithrun, though I’d say Mithrun realizes just a bit earlier, but doesn’t say anything to the others, of course.

The captain’s gaze was practically drilling holes in the back of her head, so much so that she feared she’d start getting a headache sooner or later. With no warning, he appeared at her side, and she wasn’t sure if he used teleportation or if she was simply that distracted. Nonetheless, Pattadol feigned composure and looked at her superior attentively.

“Is there anything you need, captain?”

Her expectations were some sort of order, needing directions, but certainly nowhere close to what actually fell from the captain’s lips.

“Don’t get distracted.”

If she wasn’t so busy standing stock still in embarrassment, she would’ve demanded to know what he was insinuating. Not like she needed to, of course. The subject of his statement immediately came to mind, and all she could do was furrow her brow and clamp her mouth shut.

Oh, she was doomed, wasn’t she?

As much as she wants to be, Pattadol isn’t subtle. It doesn’t take long for the rest of her coworkers to get the picture. The teasing was strong at first, happening nearly every time you two were near one another, but I think they’d get bored eventually. After all, they’ll be gone after the dungeon is sealed, and you’re a short lived race! The idea of the two of you getting together was pretty much impossible in their minds.

The rapidly approaching departure was both a blessing and a curse to Pattadol. On one hand, she wouldn’t have to endure these treacherous feelings getting in the way of her duties, and soon, the judgmental gazes of her coworkers would shift their focus away from her love life and back to her just being a “stickler”. After all, she wouldn’t even see you anymore!

But on the other hand… she wouldn’t even see you anymore.

To her own shock and horror, she actually starts looking for reasons to stay.

Now, Pattadol is literally the furthest thing from dishonest one could imagine. She would rather die than lie to the queen of all people, but if there’s something like, say, some damaged runes that can’t be read but could easily be done after the dungeon is sealed, she’ll choose to do it now under the guise of due diligence.

The other Canaries will definitely notice her demeanor changing, but a slower pace definitely isn’t a bad thing for most of them, so as long as the job gets done, they won’t exactly object.

She was supposed to be gone, wasn’t she? A confused expression took over your face when you caught sight of the long, blonde hair and the green cape. To you, she was unmistakable.

“Hey, weren’t you supposed to leave this morning?” The reaction to your voice was near instant, with Pattadol’s head turning just a split second after her ears perked up in recognition of the sound. Though she was smiling, there was a hint of something apologetic in her eyes.

“Well, we were,” a stray lock of hair was moved into place as she spoke. “We ended up finding some tunes on the walls that were partially damaged, and even once the dungeon is sealed, they’ll still be of great interest to the queen, so her orders were to restore and decipher them to the best of our ability while we were still present in the area. Decided that it would be more efficient.”

After that long string of words, she inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but notice her cheeks were slightly flushed. It looked good on her.

“So you’ll be here a little longer?” Even if she hadn’t specifically requested more time at this location, she couldn’t have said no to you. Not like this, when your eyes were so hopeful and your smile so contagious.

Grinning now herself, she acquiesced to your unspoken wishes. “Of course. We value doing our work thoroughly and properly.” Your eyes met once again, and the both of you knew that wasn’t all that she had to say.

“That aside, I’m glad to be here. I’ve wanted to speak with you a bit more…..”

A confession would likely be meticulously planned out by Pattadol, each word carefully handpicked into a linguistic bouquet that could express how she feels.

Your acceptance would shock her, really. In her mind, there was such a large gap between the two of you, and considering her position, there was little chance of anything truly working out in the long term.

Trying to reassure her that the two of you could make things work might fall on deaf ears at first, considering her emotional state. Writing letters was always an option, of course, but it just didn’t feel right to do that to you. You deserve someone who could be with you every day! She wouldn’t want you to spend your life waiting for her while she was overseas carrying out the bidding of the queen….

Many nights were spent deliberating her predicament, pacing back and forth in the Canaries’ quarters while muttering to herself. So many, in fact, that her coworkers decided to help her for their own sanity.

Pattadol, was, of course, against it at first, and even more against trying to bargain for more time, but soon enough she realized that she’d have absolutely no peace of mind if she left, either.

“W-we can’t do this!” The other Canaries ignored the frantic waving of the guard’s hands, signaling in every way physically possible that she wanted this all to stop. “It’s dishonest, it’s against the code! And- and it wouldn’t even work! Better to spare me the heartache!”

From the bottom bunk bed behind the panicking blonde, Lycaon propped himself up on one arm. He observed Pattadol with a largely unamused expression, waiting for a quiet moment to say his piece.

“So you’re saying…” he waited for his superior’s head to turn towards him before continuing. “…that if you left this lover of yours as soon as humanly possible, you would feel little heartache and get over it quickly?”

The look on her face, crestfallen and lost, said all that he needed to know.

Feeling defeated, Pattadol could only hang her head and sigh. “….Just don’t do anything outrageous, please?”

The methods aside, with Mithrun’s influence as captain as well as his lack of fear towards behaving out of line goes quite a bit farther than Pattadol, who was only really willing to use believable excuses. She’s practically tripping over herself to thank them, but most of them are just happy to get a break from nonstop work. Except for Mithrun, probably, who might even try to get reassigned down the line to get back into a dungeon sooner, but that’s Mithrun for you.

When she sees you next, she’s elated, telling you that she’ll now be here for a much longer time with you! Sure, it’s only a measly ten years, but it’s something! Perhaps you can work out something more down the line?

…Huh? Why do you look so confused? Did she say something strange?

[according2thelore]

i just want to say its insane that this is the best blog AND the best ao3 account. unfair. also i scrolled here forever and came across that art of priest sam and now i'm thinking about what if sam ran off to join the priesthood if he didn't get into stanford...... i don't even know if that's a thing in the 21st century but omg.... dean breaking into a church rectory to steal him back from god....... calling him father to be a dick but also bc...

HOLY SHIT????

um--thank you so much??? omg??? i'm crying?

the best is crazy, considering there are so many incredibly talented and hilarious bloggers that make up our community, and i'm so glad to be part of them! thank you!!!!!! i'm so honoured you like our blog and my fanfic!!! that means the world!!!!! <3 charlotte also says thank you sm!

and yes! priest!sam makes me bark like a fucking dog bc it makes sense! sam, at college, tormented by visions and unsure why walking past the stanford memorial church in the middle of the quad makes his feet burn.

whenever he blesses himself with holy water, it leaves faint red marks on his forehead for the rest of the day that he covers with his bangs. salt really seasons his food, and he can immediately tell if someone put it on his meal.

and he loves jess--he does, so much it hurts--but he can't live like this, not anymore. he applies to seminary school (you have to be at least twenty-five (or twenty-four if you get it waived) to become a priest but let's ignore that for now!) and only gets in because his local priest advocates for him to the diocese. for some reason, his application keeps getting lost, no matter how many times he turns it in. it just vanishes.

he doesn't know that what's inside of him is evil, yet, but he remembers looking at dean sometimes and having to look away because dean seemed bright, physically bright, and it hurt his eyes. he thought it was misplaced lust, that burning in his skin, but remembers that painting of galahad, of glorious light and purpose and purity and knows that he wants that.

he feels it, when he undergoes orders, the burning in his blood, his weak knees as he kneels on marble, like he's going to be sick, and he's overjoyed, because that must mean that he's being cleansed of every unholy thought, every unholy cell in his body. the holy oil they smear on his hands moves on its own into circles on his palms, quarter-sized dots that sizzle.

sam tucks his fingers into his palms and pretends that he can't see the similar wounds on the crucifix, the stigmata that are a garish red on christ turning into silver scars on sam's hands, scars that ache or burn when he cleans the holy vessels or touches the sacrament.

he gets assigned to the smallest church in the diocese. he's happy enough, and finds peace in the quiet, in connecting with the people in the parish and the spartan way of life--no distractions, no decorations, just a purpose, a holy purpose. he gets restless sometimes, the lack of mental stimulation driving him crazy, so he prays to god to remove this weakness in him. he prays to god when he sweeps the floor and when he organizes the soup kitchen donations and when he brushes his teeth.

he's closing up one night when he sees a man in one of the pews in the darkened sanctuary. he approaches slowly, and asks softly, 'can i help you?'

and the man doesn't turn around, when he says, 'i had a brother, once.' and sam fucking freezes in his steps because he dreams about this voice sometimes, dreams of this man's hands on him and knows that his job isn't done yet, know that he's not cleansed of all the rot inside of himself, because this man remains.

and dean's smile is liquid and oily when he turns around, and says, 'but now our family's got two fathers.'

and sam's lost, the second he looks into dean's eyes, the exact shade forgotten until this moment, and sam's feet ache in his shoes like they always do on church grounds--on hallowed ground--, and dean fucking glows, and sam can see the shadows he casts, and sam's eyes burn.

one of them is holy, one of them is approved by god.

and it's never been sam. it never will be.

god doesn't want him.

but dean does. dean always does.

goddamn this ran away with me. do i need to write a priest!sam fic?? much to think about. thank you for this lovely ask anon!!!! and thank you again for your kind words!!!!!! <3

happy wincest wednesday!

-lizzy

[dearestxiao]

hiii, i’m new to your blog and wanted to interact a li’l ^^

do you prefer canon venti or modern au venti? also, who do you think is worse?

ahhh such great questions, thank you for interacting!! so sorry for the lateness! for some reason, my brain took this as an opportunity to explain how their yandere tendencies manifest themselves respectively. hope this helps with drawing an answer!

for the question of who is 'worse,' it really comes down to your prefence of how upfront you want their true selves to be. I think one of the core differences between the two venti's is their predictability. with regular au venti, you know what's his limit, what he will and won't do, and how far you can push him. you know what will set him off, and more importantly, what won't. there's at least some sense of predictability with him. he's less scary like that. you know just how much you can push him away and deny his affection before he snaps, or you have to deal with any real consequences of doing so.

he's like this on purpose, too. venti is undoubtedly emotionally intelligent, and he has the advantage of having lived centuries of life around humans (something that's also made him unbelievably patient). he knows that if he's stable, you'll feel more at ease with him, more willing to push him (and see just how kind he is even after you deny him), more willing to succumb to him, too. you'll see that he's a forgiving god, a god deserving to be a god of freedom. you know that, unless you push his buttons a little too hard, there's nothing to be afraid of with him. 

and, he knows that when he finally breaks you down (which he will, eventually), he can easily play it as you acting upon your own free will.

he also tries not to breach your own boundaries too much (well, as little as a yandere can), so he's not actively forcing you to do much, if anything at all. he believes that gaining your love organically is the best, and he has all the time (and power) in the world to do that. 

that's not to say he won't do anything rash ever. if you were to relentlessly deny his affections no matter what he does or tries, or if you were to fall in love with someone else, anything that shows your denial of him… his hand might just be forced to stretch the limitations of his definition of freedom.

modern-au venti does not have the privilege to share much of those same values. in theory, of course he wants you to love him naturally. he fantasizes about it a lot, constantly daydreaming about the way you’d smile so brightly as you confessed to him, or how you’d ask him on a date, or how you’d beg to be held by him at night without him having to initiate it… but does that all really matter in the grand scheme of things? he doesn't have time to waste or a power he could rely on. it doesn’t, not when he knows he can get all of that out of you anyways. 

this gives modern venti way more of an unstable personality compared to his counterpart. he still cares about how you see him, and attempts to act accordingly, but he's not as careful as to be so predictable for you. he's self-aware, and knows just how wrong his feelings are and that he should keep himself at bay, but he lets his real emotions manifest themselves sometimes. mostly on purpose, too— it's his own personal way of manipulating you.

however, he typically does it as a means to work towards his goal. he can't rely on literal power like regular venti does, so he has to work for it, work to get you. he doesn't have as much of the patience to be denied, either, although that's not to say he doesn't try to. and sometimes he just takes what he wants, but he never goes too far as to make you truly hate him. he always pushes it to the edge, knowing just right where to stop before he goes too far.

in simple terms, regular venti is more patient and less upfront, but he has a lot of power that he could hold against you. on the other hand, modern venti is a lot more direct and upfront about his tendencies and has to work with his lack of options. both will get what they want in a matter of time. as for me personally, it depends on my mood! I love how actually frightening regular venti could be, but I also love how direct and unhinged modern au venti is. I can't choose!

[captainrayzizuniverse]

i meeeeannn like so much shit man!

I spent the entirety of last year following on livestreams. That was my experience, dodgy sounds and extreme barricade closeups. So this was like a slap in the face a punch in the stomach.

-His voice is phenomenal. After watching almost every livestream last year I was always anxious what it would sound like actually live and it was beyond perfect. The confidence added to it as well. There was a discussion before the tour started on one blog saying how Louis doesn’t sound loud enough (as loud as harry’s show because surprise, that’s always the metric to measure) because he doesn’t turn his mic high enough. And the suggestion was due to his confidence and blah blah blah. Wow fuck man, you were wrong. His voice was loud and crystal clear. I’d say my seat definitely helped in that as well, but yeah no he was fucking loud!

-Him liking the SIBWAW lights and then telling us to keep going and us being like “yes master” and continued to lift our hands up and down to finish the song. Giving us an unnecessary workout. Like my right arm is going to be sore af tomorrow.

-Him completely forgetting his first speech. I’m like ‘why the fuck is he angry at us for?’. Me and my friend were discussing how he’s going to say Toronto because the Academic singer pronounced the second ‘T’ so heavily...but then he completely forgot to speak and I thought we’ll end the show without finding it out! It felt personal ok?!

-The screens malfunctioning and completely turning off during holding onto heartache, made me question every effect in the screens later. Like was everything on purpose or was it the effect of the screen fuck up esp since there was a dead pixel that was driving me nuts. Regardless, the visuals on the screens are unreal. I can watch them with the music overlaid on top all day. Also the color palette of the lights on the stage for different songs were so so so nice. Mixed with the smoke mmmm beautiful vision.

-The rainbow project. man oh man. I saw the videos and I saw my own video and it does it no justice. I was in the upper red section so I got to see it all with a good view and it was perfection. Literarily surrounded by light. I always admire the fan project organizers. They are so fucking good and don’t get enough credit. Honestly I want to send them a gift basket or something.

-505 killed me. Like on the floor dead. “I crumble completely when you cry...” is a moment. I want to be in a session with him when he picks a song to cover. Like what goes on in that process?

-The band. Incredible. Michael. Incredible. So grateful he gets to tour with Louis so he can give him his moments. Like he OWNS his solos.

-People at the first two shows were saying how young the crowd was...I was surprised by today’s crowd. From the moment we walked in, people were definitely younger than me (34) but it didn’t feel as young as I thought it would be. Also loved seeing plenty of people older than me being there with their friends and you can tell they’ve been here a while. Diverse age group is always welcome.

agh man the only reason I’m not keyboard smashing is because I did that already in the streetcar but out loud to my friend. But my reaction to the entire gig is essentially one endless keyboard smash.

-Also finally after the show me and my friend got the orange hoodies because we wanted to look like traffic cones.

Definitely suffering the post concert blues. But at least I get to visit new york in july and attend the final one. Although nothing will beat Toronto because Toronto is home!

[flyiingsly]

Secret Santa

Pairing : Hardcase x medic!reader

Warnings : Mention of injuries, death and war, two idiots in love with each other, a bit of angst and mutual pining, fluff

Wordcount : 5,7k

Summary : The 501st boys are organizing a little event for Life Day, but the night took an unexpected turn when you receive a very special gift from your favorite trooper.

A/N : Heeere we are, my submission for the @cloneficgiftexchange ! I was assigned to @melliejellybellybean  and oh boy that one was so much fun to write ! (Telling a story about a Secret Santa event for a Secret Sant event, what a very cliché thing to do, I know, but I just couldn't resist it)

I'm soooo happy to be a part of this exchange ! Right after I've received your name, I immediately checked your blog to learn more about you, and then I discovered that you seem to be a very enthusiast Taylor Swift fan, and I was like OMG THAT’S SO COOL because I really love her music as well, and not gonna lie, it was that perfect excuse to listen to her songs like a maniac while writing this, it gave me a lot of inspiration and good vibes, that was amazing !

I really hope that you're gonna like it too 💜

Since you started to work as a medic for the 501st legion under the commands of General Skywalker, your days suddenly became more animated. But you couldn’t say that you weren’t enjoying it. In fact, it was quite the contrary : you loved working with them.

When you arrived at the GAR med bay, you were placed under the supervision of one of their best medics, Kix, who quickly became your best friend. Then, you were introduced to the rest of the company, and as you were getting to know them better, they soon adopted you as one of their own.

You were getting along with them very well, and they quickly became like your family more than just coworkers or patients. You were spending most of your time with them, whether on missions or on shore leaves.

Since you were following them on every battlefield they were sent to, going through the horrors of war together and saving their lives has created a very strong bond between you and them.

But fortunately, there wasn’t only bad stuff to share, and despite the fact that you were nervous and not very enthusiastic the first time they invited you to join them at the 79’, you were now used to it and really were enjoying those special and joyful moments spent together.

In addition of Kix, there was another person in the group you became particularly close to : Hardcase. He was one of your most recurrent patients, for he was admitted in the med bay every once in a while, for the most unexpected and silly reasons sometimes.

You used to worry for him the first couple of times you found him waiting in your examination room, covered in blood and bruises, but as the time passed by, you realized that his injuries were, in most cases, looking more serious and concerning than they actually were.

You both became attached to each other pretty quickly. You loved his sense of humor, his energy, and his adventurous temperament, and he grew very fond of your kindness, selflessness and thoughtfulness.

In fact, everyone who was at least a little close to him could easily notice that there was something more than just strong friendship and appreciation silently going on between you.

Hardcase wasn’t usually the kind of person to be shy or self-conscious, on the contrary, but with you, it was different.

He was often caught glancing and smiling dreamingly at you when you weren’t watching or found all flustered and blushing after talking to you or running unexpectedly into you in the GAR station’s corridors. Just the way he was talking about you was enough to anyone who was listening to him to catch a glimpse of his true feelings.

At some point, Kix even started to ask himself if his constant visits to the med bay weren’t an excuse to see you. He just couldn’t believe that someone could be that clumsy and careless without doing it on purpose. But you, on the other hand, as long as he wasn’t suffering too much, were always more than happy to see him pass the door.

He was making you laugh, and he was always finding a way to drag you along in his shenanigans and making you engage in silly and funny situations you would never have believed you’d be taking part of one day.

You were a steady and quiet person, and when he was near you, he seemed to become calmer and more relaxed too, like if your presence was soothing both his mind and his body.

To have you around was a true relief for his brothers sometimes, because his excess of energy could be a bit exhausting for them. It wasn’t a problem for you though, for you were never tired of him.

Each one of you seemed to be the perfect balance to the other, and everyone around was waiting for the moment when you will finally end up together.

So of course, when the company decided to put together a special little party to celebrate Life’s Day, you obviously were on top of the guest’s list. In fact, you were one of the first person to know about that idea, and they even asked you for help to plan the event.

The timing was perfect, for the exact day of the celebrations was coinciding with the day after returning from a mission, which meant that the company was, if everything went well, supposed to be on Coruscant for a several days shore leave at that time.

Commander Tano and General Skywalker were invited as well, and happily accepted to join. It was their idea to organize a Secret Santa at first. It apparently was a popular thing on various planets, and when they submitted it to the rest of the company, everyone enthusiastically agreed to give it a try.

When the time came to pick up a name in the basket, you got very lucky, for you immediately knew what would make that particular person happy.

What you didn’t know however, was that it was your beloved Hardcase who got you. But on top of that, what you both couldn’t imagined was that it wasn’t just fate who made him pick you up. In fact, it was mostly Jesse’s and Kix’s idea.

They knew how fond their brother was of you, so they decided to play a little trick on him, both to tease him, but also because they saw it as a perfect occasion to give him a little help to confess his feelings to you.

When he discovered your name written in capital letters, he got through a lot of different emotions in a couple of seconds. Fives and Echo, who volunteered to hand the names out, and who were flying around the GAR base with an upside-down helmet full a little piece of papers, tried their best not to sell themselves by laughing in front of him when they saw him froze on the spot, eyes wide, then smile excitedly with sparkling pupils, before an expression of pure shock and disbelieve pass on his face.

Little did he know that before reaching for him, the two ARCs took care of switching every remaining paper from the homemade basket with only covered in your name ones. He had absolutely no chances to escape it.

It took him several days of intense reflection to find something to offer to you. It seemed like an eternity to Kix, who had to answer numerous questions about whether or not you’ll appreciate his latest idea and who got asked for his opinion at the most unexpected times of the day. But seeing him that involved and entitled to make you happy was so adorable that he couldn’t really find it annoying.

But at last, he finally managed to find something special, really special and meaningful, something that you’ll be glad to receive, and that will, at the same time, perfectly embody how important you were for him.

I wasn’t going to be easy to make, but he knew it, he couldn’t have find a more perfect gift for you.

***

The event was taking place in one of the many GAR’s aircraft hangars, because of the open view its massive door and high level was offering on the city.

Lights were a very important and symbolic part of the Life Day, and the pick of the celebrations on Coruscant was the release of thousands of paper lanterns all around the planet. So being able to see the sky was very important for that night.

The evening started with a big feast.

You had worked for most of the day to prepare all of it with the boys, moving numerous tables and chairs from the mess hall, and placing them in a row between the ships resting in the hangar. It was a lot of organization, but it was more than worth it.

For the food, you had all voted for the simplest option : each guest ordered a meal of his choice from some delivery service, so everyone could eat exactly what they wanted. It wasn’t the most elaborate meal ever, nor the most traditional, but at least everyone was enjoying it, and the whole setting was still making it looks special and festive nonetheless.

The gifts from the Secret Santa were supposed to be exchanged at the end of the “banquet”, after the desert.

Just as they did with the names in the first place, it was Echo and Fives who were in charge of collecting the presents from the players in the morning, to make sure that nobody could see who was dropping which one off, and so they could be delivered all at the same time to their addressees.

But nobody was expecting them to enter the hangar the way they did, Fives wearing a full Santa costume, standing on top of a pallet truck next to a pile of colorful boxes, and carried around by a red nosed and covered in garlands Echo, both visibly very proud of their little show.

It was hilarious, and the fact that he was trying to make his voice even more deep than it already was added a layer of comic to the whole situation.

He then asked to everyone to stand up and come closer to the vehicle, and his request was soon followed by a big and noisy mess of swinging chair and people cheerfully gathering around them.

As they started to give out the gifts, picking them one by one and calling the names written on them, the atmosphere became electric, heavy with muffled cackles and whispers.

You were assigned to a bigger than expected wooden box, beautifully hand painted in blue and circled with a large white ribbon. It was very heavy, so heavy that Rex offered to help you carrying it for you.

Once every participant had been called, the twins enthusiastically started a countdown so all the boxes could be opened simultaneously. As soon as it hit zero, the sound of shredded paper filled the air, quickly followed by a concert of exclamations, laughs and surprised squeaks. You even caught a couple of “that’s exactly what I wanted !” and “I knew it !” in the middle of the various reactions.

Rex had settled the box on a corner of the table to make it easier for you to open it, and you were now examining it from every angle to figure out how to do so. It was that kind of ammunitions containers that could be found in every GAR armory, and that were usually requiring a special tool to unseal, but this one obviously had already been opened at least once.

You were so concentrated on it that you didn’t noticed the many pairs of eyes looking furtively at you, waiting for your reaction.

When you finally managed to open it, the first thing that you saw was styrofoam chips. You chuckled at the view, anticipating a prank and ready to find nothing but those in the box.

But as you dived your fingers inside, they quickly fell on a round, massive and cold shape.

“AHAH !” you exclaimed, grabbing the mysterious item with both hands and pulling it toward you in a burst of colorful little polystyrene bits.

But you weren’t expecting what you were about to find.

As soon as you saw and understood what it was, you immediately gasped, your eyes widening in surprise.

You were now holding a brand new and freshly painted armor cuirass, immaculately white.

“What the …” you mumbled, simultaneously confused and in awe.

You turned it between your fingers, examining every angle of it, admiring its curves and looking at it with glowing eyes.

You soon after put your hands back in, frantically searching for more parts, dying to know if there was something else in that box.

When you stumbled upon one, then two vambraces, you let out a squeak, and couldn’t help but immediately try them on on top of your medic long sleeved jacket.

“No way !!! you let out, when finding out that they were perfectly fitting to your forearms. You twirled and twisted your arms around several times, looking at them with eyes watery from excitement.

You never got the chance to have your own set of armor before, for as a nat born medic, you weren’t supposed to get exposed during conflicts. Only clone medics were usually taking part of the fights and following the troops in battles. You, on the other hand, were supposed to stay behind, keeping your distances with the front line and waiting for the soldiers to return to heal them.

Bu you weren’t following that guidelines most of the times. You were part of the 501st after all, and just like their General, you had your own and particular way of managing difficult situations. That’s how you find yourself running in the middle of the battlefield more than a couples of times, trying to rescue someone.

You even got injured once, not that severely, but still badly enough to frighten the hell out of Rex and get a full lecture from him. Needless to say that it didn’t stopped you from doing it again anyway. Everybody in the company perfectly knew that there was no way to prevent you from saving lives, even at the cost of your own safety.

Of course, you’ve already tried to borrow a spare one from the armory, but standard clone’s armors weren’t the right size for you, and the Jedi’s special lighter armors were way too expensive to equip a medic, so you just never really bother thinking much about it after that.

You kept exploring the depths of the box until there was nothing left inside but chips. You successively pulled out a pair of gauntlets, rerebraces, and elbows pieces, a plackart, and finally, a pair of spaulders. One of them was plastered with a bright red, perfectly hand traced medic emblem. It was absolutely gorgeous.

That’s when you noticed it. The little card stuck on the inside of one of the shoulders. You took it off from the plastoid surface and unfolded it carefully.

The note was handwritten, and the lettering was a bit messy, but you could still feel how much attention and care have been poured into it to make it as readable and beautiful as possible.

“For the best Medic in the GAR ! (Don’t tell Kix about that or he’s going to be jealous ^^ )

You’re always watching upon us to make sure we’re safe, and because you’re one of the most important persons to me, I wanted to return you the favor, and offer you a way to stay safe as well.

Happy Life Day.

Ps : Despite the design on the spaulder, it’s all white so you could customize it as you liked, just like ours ! Enjoy !”

Excitement suddenly turned into pure emotion as your eyes became even more teary. It was the most wholesome words you’ve have ever read, and you could barely believe that someone wrote that to you. You were so moved that you had to read it a second, then a third time to make sure that you had understood it correctly, and that it wasn’t just your brain playing a trick on you.

You instinctively raised your head to look around you, feeling taken aback and curious at the same time, staring at everyone around and scanning the hangar with your eyes for an answer, like if it was going to help you find out from who it was coming from. But it didn’t, of course.

You only knew it wasn’t from Kix, for he had already told you who he picked, but you had no idea who else it could have been. You felt lost for a moment, these words weren’t sounding like a simple note written to accompany a Secret Santa present, and you had the feeling that the person who put them on paper had waited for the occasion to come since a long time already, making it even more special.

When your eyes fell back on the pieces of armor scattered on the table, tears were rolling down your cheeks. Someone found a way to make you a whole made to measure upper armor, just because you were so important to them that they wanted you safer on the battlefield, and it was one of the most touching ways that someone could have ever expressed his care for you.

On the other side of the hangar, Hardcase had been giving you little discreet side glances from a distance since the moment your name was called. He felt proud at first when he caught a glimpse of you enthusiastically searching the box. He needed to make sure that you were happy with what he got you before allowing himself to open and enjoy his own present.

But he was now too absorbed in talking with his brothers to notice your change of expression.

“Hey, I didn’t know that making her cry was part of the plan !” Fives suddenly interrupted him with a worried look, giving him a nudge to catch his attention, and gesturing his head toward you.

His joy immediately faded when he noticed your tears, and he instantly started to feel bad for you. He wasn’t expected that, it was the very contrary of the effect he wanted his gift to have on you, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.

“(y/n), are you okay ?” you suddenly heard Ahsoka’s voice softly asking you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine ….” You mumbled, weeping your eyes with the back of our hand and smiling reassuringly at her.

“I’m just … a bit moved … This is … a lot, actually … I just can’t express how lucky I feel right now … I mean, I know that building a made to measure armor is awfully expensive, and I feel so blessed that someone actually put so much effort and energy into doing that for me … I …” you sighed, the words had escaped your mouth so hastily that you had forgot to breath, and you were now seeing stars from the lack of oxygen.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t find my words right now !” you chuckled, a bit embarrassed for being that overwhelmed.

“Don’t worry, I understand what you mean.“ she answered, trying not to sound too satisfied.

“Do you know who did this ?” you hopefully asked her.

“Hmmm, maybe …” she cracked a mischievous smile, “but I promised him to not tell you anything … All I can say is that the person who gifted you this really, really care about you, like, a lot ! But don’t worry, I have the feeling that you will know who it is soon enough …”

“I hope so, I really need to thank him for that ….” You whispered, looking deeply at the spaulder, absent mindlessly tracing the medic emblem with the tips of your fingers.

Little do you know that she has been involved in the whole project from the beginning. That gift was so close to Hardcase’s heart that he didn’t hesitated to ask her and Anakin for some advice.

Of course, his General, too, had noticed how fond his trooper was of you. But most of all, he particularly understood how important the lives of his men were to you, for just like you, he was close to them, and every lost life was a hard thing to accept for him as well.

So when Hardcase exposed his plan to him, he immediately agreed to help, offering him to negotiate a free and special access to all the required resources he needed to successfully fulfill it.

Since you were close friend with his Padawan, she volunteered to give them a hand on a delicate part of the plan, but the most crucial one : collecting your measurements. It was, of course, easier and less suspect for her to enter the women’s locker room of the GAR med bay rather than sending any other male member of the company there to do it.

That’s how she found herself sneaking into your locker several days in a row with a measuring tape, scrupulously noting the sizes and lengths of your different outfits, to make sure that they had the right dimensions for the future armor. You didn’t even noticed a thing, never catching  the way your clothes had moved from the moment you put them in and the moment you took them back after your shifts.

At this point, the entire battalion as well as their superiors knew about Hardcase’s gift, and several of its members helped him bringing it to life, in addition to all the persons who were involved in the fabrication of the armor itself.

The whole project had been a beautiful demonstration of solidarity and group work, and the amount of energy and care that had been poured into it was, indeed, very huge and even more consequent that you could have ever imagined.

It was probably one of the most interesting and funny spying mission the young togruta was sent on, and witnessing how big of an impact it had on you, feeling your emotion and your happiness, was the most beautiful reward she could have gotten for her participation.

You were still processing what had just happened, eyes still lost on what you were holding in your hands, when the voice of someone screaming from the hangar doorstep pulled you out of your thoughts.

“It’s beginning ! They’re releasing the lanterns !”

When you raised your head toward the origin of the scream, you just had enough time to see Tup excitedly weaving his arms, pointing at the sky and gesturing to his brothers to come nearer, before the entirety of the hangar’s lights suddenly shut down, leaving the vast space only bathed in the dimmed glow of the outside city lights.

The men quickly gathered on the edge of the wide entrance as you saw a couple of little glimmering flares ascending from the city below into the night sky.

One after the other, the biggest buildings around went dark as well, allowing a better look on the lanterns. It was the only day of the whole year when you could see the jedi temple and the senate completely plunge into darkness.

There were no more screams or laughs resonating through the air, only whisperings and muffled gasps of awe.

You couldn’t move at first, still stunned by the latest turn of events and mesmerized by what you were witnessing. Then you gently settled your spaulder on the nearest chair, before taking a few steps forwards as more and more lanterns were filling the sky, creating a big cloud of artificial stars.

You were a bit further back from the others, but still able to see everything from there, not missing a single bit of the show.

It was one of the most spectacular and mesmerizing thing that you have ever seen, and you were so focused on it that you didn’t hear the sound of approaching footsteps echoing against the durasteel floor.

“Hey …” a soft and familiar voice suddenly whispered on your left.

“Hey …” you whispered back, turning your head to face Hardcase, who was now standing right next to you as if he had appeared out of thin air.

There was enough light to clearly distinguish the blue lines of his tattoos, but not enough for you to notice the faint shade of red covering his cheeks.

“So, did you like your gift ?” you asked him with smile.

“Oh, yeah ! It was great ! Actually, I think that the person who offered it to me know a couple of things about me that I can’t remember telling anyone so far, so I guess I must have talked too much about some particular subjects the last time I was drunk, but yeah, I really appreciated it ! ” he lets out with an amused tone.

“Ahah, you’ll be surprised of all the things you’re saying when you’re drunk …” you teased him, as you felt the heat slowly raising to your face. You were so emotional right now that his very presence was enough to fluster you.

“Oh I know what you’re referring to, don’t get me started, you were as wasted as me that time !” he groaned, glaring at you with a falsely annoyed expression on his face.

His remark made you giggles, and your laugh must have been contagious, because he couldn’t help but start to chuckle as well.

Then, a silence fell between you, only disturbed by the distant buzzing of the city and the murmurs of your fellow troopers.

“Look, I’m sorry, I never meant to make you cry …” he breathed out after a moment.

You heart skipped a bit at his words, before starting to race faster when you understood what he was talking about, and you tried your best to keep your composure and refrain yourself from gasping in shock.

“So, it was you …”

“Yeah, it was me …” he awkwardly answered, “I know that we’re not supposed to tell the person we picked that … well, that we picked them, but … My gift seemed to have made you so sad, I just wanted to apology for that …”

“Sad ??!” you retorted, “No, it didn’t made me sad ! That wasn’t tears of sadness, it was the emotion, because your gift touched me ! Honestly, it’s the most meaningful thing someone ever gifted to me and … I just got overwhelmed ! I mean, I can’t imagine how much it must have costed you, that’s insane ! I’m so lucky to have been picked by you ! Thank you Hardcase, it means so much to me …”

You were stuttering, tripping over your words and feeling your eyes getting watery again.

The sparks of pure joy and gratitude that were making your pupils glimmer as you looked at him made him fondly smile at you, the faint blush on his cheeks becoming brighter.

“Oh well, not gonna lie, I got a lot of help on this one, but actually …“ his voice was laced with embarrassment, “I initially wanted to offer you the lower part as well, but we run out of time … But if you still like it that way, then that’s good enough I guess !”

“Of course I like it !” you let out in shock, astonished by what he had just said, “It’s absolutely perfect, I could never thank you enough for that, sincerely !”

You smiled back at him, your gaze meeting his. He instantly melts from the inside, trying his best not to look at your curled lips for too long, but still devouring you with his eyes.

You were so beautiful he couldn’t get them off of you. He could have admired you for the entire night if it was possible, and you both stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other in silence, the faint light of the sea of lantern reverberating on your faces, creating a very intimate atmosphere around you.

“Can I … Can I ask you a question ?” you shyly say after a moment.

“Yeah, whatever you want !”

“Do you … Do you really meant what you wrote on that card ?”

 “Well …” he paused, quickly turn looking away from you, his eyes landing on the floor, “Yes …” he quietly muttered.

The next silence that fell between you was a heavy one. You felt paralyzed, there was so much things that you wanted to say to him right now, but they were stuck in your throat, you just couldn’t seem to find the courage to speak them out loud.

You were trying to gather yourself to, at least, try to answer something, when he broke the silence first.

“I’m sorry about that too … Maybe I shouldn’t have wrote that, maybe it was too much and inappropriate, maybe …”

“No,” you cut him, “it wasn’t … To be honest, I think that I was waiting for that … Actually, when I read this card, I was praying for you to be the one behind it …”

His eyes widened, you were, too, avoiding his gaze, but you still caught his surprised expression from the corner of your own eyes.

“Rea .. Really ?” he mumbled.

“Yes …” you answered, trying to prevent your voice from trembling too much “I just hoped that I got the message right …”.

You were shaking from head to toes now. You felt his eyes land on you once again and his whole body turning to face you, and, without a warning, his hand softly took yours.

It was your turn to look at him with surprise. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words escaped it. You thought that your heart couldn’t beat faster than it already was, but you were wrong. You never knew that someone could have that much effect on you.

“I think that you got it right, yes ...” he simply whispered, taking a step toward you, and pulling you closer to him until your two bodies where leaned against each other, his forehead gently settling on yours, and his other hand rising toward your face to carefully cup it.

You shivered at his touch, instinctively closing your eyes, your whole attention focused on the sensation of his skin against yours. You were so close to each other that you could feel his heart racing just as fast as yours.

“And I think that I have something else to tell you …” the sound of his voice was making your legs feel weak under your body, you nearly couldn’t believe that you were that close to him.

The whole scene seemed to happen in slow motion, suspended in time, like if the world has suddenly paused around you and time has stopped as you waited for his next words, praying for all of this to be real and not just a dream.

“I love you, (y/n), I fell for you since the moment I saw you and … I’ve waited for that moment for so long …” he breathed out, his nose brushing against yours.

He couldn’t resist anymore, and with a rush of courage striking at him, he closed the tiny remaining gaps between your mouths, his lips hesitantly meeting yours.

Your whole body felt like melting under his kiss, and it took you a few seconds to process what was happening before being able to answer it. You could have never expected how careful and soft his gestures were.

When you finally get your composure back, you slowly let go of his hand to wrap both of your arms around his neck. Your move gave him more confidence, and you felt his fingers slowly caressing your arm, passing over your still vambraces covered forearms until they reached your face, cupping it with his second hand too and deepening the kiss.

When your lips parted, you were both panting, and he was tightly clinging onto you, afraid that you could suddenly disappeared from his grasp.

You reopened your eyes to find him looking at you with a look of pure fascination, as if he was holding the most precious jewel of the galaxy between his hands.

“I … I love you too”, you murmured, once you had caught your breath, “and I have to confess, I’ve been waiting for that too, actually, I wish I could have told you before but … I guess I wasn’t brave enough. In fact … I was too frightened that you might not feel the same …” your face tensed up as you were opening your heart to him.

His eyes started to sparkle with emotion, like if all of the lanterns currently flying in the Coruscant’s sky have been gathered in his pupils, and he softly brushed the tip of your finger against your cheeks in a reassuringly.

“I can’t blame you for that, we were in the same boat on that point … But know that I’ve never ceased to love you, I don’t think that I can ever be tired of you, and now that I have found enough courage to tell it to you once, I will do it over and over again, and I hope that you will never doubt my words, because they truly are sincere.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“You’re so beautiful …” he whispered contemplatively, unable resist the urge to pull you in for another kiss, more passionate, but just as soft as the first one.

“Aren’t you … afraid that … the other could see us ?” you questioned in when remembering that you weren’t alone in that very vast hangar.

“Don’t worry,” he grinned “nobody is looking at us right now, they’re too concentrated on the outside !”

It was enough of an argument for you, and you weren’t, in the end, paying that much attention about whatever the other members of the company could think about it, quickly forgetting about their presence again right after, too focused on the mesmerizing smile of the man standing in front of you.

Little do you knew that, even if nobody was actually looking at you, everybody was still very aware about what was happening behind their turned back, and that they were all discreetly sharing winks, high fives and looks of victory, happy to know that two of their close friends were finally taking the chance to be happy together.

***

“Can I ask you a favor ?” you let out a moment later, as you were both watching the last released lanterns getting lost in the darkness, “Could we paint my armor together, please ?”

“Of course I will ! Not gonna lie, I was planning on asking you if you’ll need some help … I can’t wait for that !” he enthusiastically answered, a warm smile growing on his face.

“Thank you“ you whispered, before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, I nearly forgot to say it, but Happy Life Day, Hardcase !” you suddenly exclaimed.

He giggled at your realization, looking dreamingly at you, before tightening his embrace around your hips and placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Happy Life Day, Mesh’la.”

[strqyr]

Thanks for finally convincing me to block you.

Anyone who has that much sympathy for a dumpster fire like Adam Taurus is someone I need to see less often.

Any other abusers you want to defend?

you know it kinda defeats the purpose of anon when i know who you are, right? might as well put your name on it lol. but since you're here brightening my day, lemme talk more about adam, sienna, and the white fang in general:

(fair warning: this will get critical.)

did you know that sienna never admonishes adam for killing few humans—they had a whole short made for him, if she did it would have come up, but all she does is praise him as an "extraordinary resource for this organization"—and that the white fang was executing sdc board members under her leadership? that she wanted humanity to fear the faunus, to know they demanded respect, which not only shows that blake fundamentally disagreed with her methods—"and the worst part was, it (sienna's methods of "violence where violence is necessary") was working. we were being treated like equals. but not out of respect... out of fear."—but is the dumbest, most macho way to go about things?

(trust me, i would know, i live next to russia.)

where sienna considered the line crossed was attacking the academies, because she believed it would start a war with humans that the white fang / the faunus couldn't win, which adam disagreed with, believing they could. that's their main difference, and there's nothing saying sienna wouldn't be fine with the attacks if she knew it wouldn't start a war or if she believed it was a war they could win.

"violence where violence is necessary" becomes incredibly flaky stance when your goal is to cause fear, ya know. i think there's a word for that, actually, especially when it's done for political cause. something about... causing terror? terrorist, maybe?

but sure. sienna "bringing a human to this location is grounds for execution" khan would definitely have problems with few humans dying during the targeted attacks she's all for. adam's definitely the only problem here, going off the path sienna set him for by... following in her footsteps. uh-huh.

one other thing about the adam short: there's a scene of sienna, adam, and ilia fighting against androids in some sdc place with blue lights and all despite the very obvious security breach happening in front of our eyes. but the moment the human security forces show up with their guns raised high and shooting at them right out the door, sienna and adam continuing the fight while ilia—the one who was redeemed—takes off her grimm (read: monster) mask, the lights turn red.

they're not being very subtle there. almost like the stance the show is taking isn't just against killing humans unnecessarily, but straight up the issue is the faunus fighting against their oppressors at all, and both sienna and adam crossed that line.

or, that's how it comes across, at least; this is a show that's partially build around colors, made by a company that also played lots of video games. they know what blue and red imply.

sorry you apparently can't feel an ounce of sympathy for a fictional character who was written as a child slave and branded on his face despite how he was written later in his life. admittedly, i find it weird and funny how you draw the line at me talking about adam in the same manner as i talk about cinder—well, not really. i haven't called adam "my bby <3" yet. guess i could start, though, just for you?—but i'm sure you have your own justifications and excuses ready for that.

i know you probably won't see this if your claims of blocking me are actually true, but who knows. maybe your friends will get it for you. maybe you continue to come back, clicking on that "show anyway" or whatever the button says when you click on a blog you've blocked to see if i've answered your little call for attention.

and sorry that nuanced takes on characters upset you. i know tumblr is the Reading Comprehension The Site™ but remember, in the words of blake belladonna: there's no such thing as pure evil :) (even when the writing sure does its best to vilify the white fang willing to fight their oppressors.)

[oars]

hiii I want to know more about appindex 👉👈

what is his relationship like with the other party members?

How easily does she trust other people?

If they are stressed or upset is there a thing/place/action that is comforting to him?

also anything else you want to share?

(I LOVE her design by the way, their appearance immediately caught my attention. Love your use of color too)

sorry this took me so long i swear when i saw this ask i started squealinf abd looking like this

gonna put it under a read more since um im gonna assume this will get really long lol

disclaimer im gonna straight spill my thoughts sorry if things stop making sense

i made a small comic just for the first question but tumblr doesnt like it for some reason and it prevents it from showing up unless you go directly to my blog :<

anyways i think overall appindex is like a mother of at least 6. companions come to them in the middle of the night like "i frew up :(" that typa thing

since family/clan n loyalty is very important to dragonborn and appindex just lost theirs before being abducted they are very quick to attach to these losers

i think while appin is not under the control of any god, lord, devil, etc they've created a personal hell of his own bc he tries to bear all responsibilities and burdens of those around him bc he's scared of failing and losing too much again. or all he has left really. that can make them kind of overbearing and it would be annoying if like the main companions didn't have issues and lowkey liked the attention.

what does get annoying is that it comes off as appindex not trusting their companions to do any heavy lifting but that improves in like act 2-3 especially since that's around the part the tav is expected to save baldurs gate. and the world like that's way too much weight for appin to carry on their own without breaking so atp they don't really have a choice but to let their companions share some of that albeit verrrry reluctantly

slightly more specific relations ---

shadowheart: shart is the first appin gets close to even if shes older i like to think she's like a little sister to appindex anyways <3 i should just show screenshots of the epilogue conversation bc it feels so fitting. probably one of the only companions to recognize appin's exhaustion and nag her

karlach: close in a years long tumblr mutual type intimacy way. "i'd let my mutuals come inside idc" type relationship. they occasionally sleep and cuddle naked. as good friends do. it's nice having someone they could rely on for literal heavy lifting and hitting bc in appin's eyes the rest of his companions are made of sticks and paper, save for lae'zel. girls who rip off heads with their bare hands and paint their nails in the blood :3

astarion: i do not know how to explain their relationship early on bc it fluctuates in my head. obviously irritated by how appin stops to help anyone and everyone especially since most of those people in act 1 are parents and children. appindex definitely laughs at his lame ass "seduction" bc it's pretty see through; it becomes less about seducing and just aiming making them laugh. appin probably said "im proud of you" at some point and it got to his head now he's vying for their attention and validation (get in line). my white hollow boned elf i'd probably give my organs to if he asked - appin

i think appindex is the more mature one, mentally and emotionally, especially since dragonborn develop and mature much earlier than elves do and i feel like dying young and being under cazador's control stunted astarions own maturity a bit. the result is appindex treating him like a child sometimes; not trusting him to do a number of things, scolding him,"dont treating me like a child" "dont act like one" etc etc. i think at some point he just does it and wears on appindex's extensive patience on purpose because he's a little freak like that :/. appin does not think its cute

ok no more of them next question

i think appindex is pretty trusting in a way. if they feel like they have no reason to feel threatened by someone they'll have their trust but that doesn't mean it can't be lost ofc. which is why they trust laezel and astarion so easily. why would they be scared of a tiny white elf who can't even get them to knife point (he failed that).

he does struggle to trust others to do things for them though, if he were ever to be out of commission or on the verge of it it would be like pulling teeth to try and get him to let someone else lead temporarily.

appin holds onto a piece of kednyr's old blanket bc it still smells like her :thumbs_up: karlach gives her a teddy bear with that piece attached to it as a gift. astarion may have helped but he will not confirm

extra notes ermm appin lived in the upper city, not a patriar or a servant, they just co-run an expensive smithy there.

as a passionate blacksmith (and someone who wants to become an artificer) appin is really intrigued by karlach's engine and wishes they could collaborate with dammon on how to fix it or make her a new one entirely

to add onto that he's extremely fascinated by the grymforge in the underdark its like a theme park to him. it is their nerdiest point in the storyline

they can stay underwater for a good period of time; an hour is their highest time

andd she has a prosthetic leg around age 40-45 sorry this got so long . this things in my head 24/7 rn i tried to omit some things to make it shorter but oh well

[spectrumed]

23. Daddy Dead

It has been a while... Not that I regret this blog, I am genuinely proud of most of my previous writing, though, if I were to compile it all into some book I'd probably spend days, weeks, if not months, rephrasing sentence after sentence. I am, after all, an anxious fuck. Whenever I publish some piece of content for the world to consume I immediately start thinking of all the ways I could have done it better. Do it better, do it better, do it better. Perfectionism is a human flaw, and despite my autism telling me that I am entitled to identify as something of an alien, or an android, I am still very much human.

But, hey, here's the news. My father died earlier this year. Y'know that line by Camus? Obviously, you've all read The Stranger, so you are aware of how that novella starts. "Aujourd'hui, Maman est morte." And of course, as all of life is a long debate, the best translation is disagreed upon. But I like to keep it simple and straightforward. Mother died today. What's important is that the story's main character doesn't want to dwell on the past, he doesn't like to get all emotional. No melodrama needed or appreciated. To him, it's just the naked reality that he's found himself in. Maman is no more. A simple and true statement. He is a son whose maternal parentage is now relegated to the world that was, the past. She is deceased. Mommy has kicked the bucket. Really, no matter how we express ourselves, we belong to the present here and now, and words can only describe our reality, they cannot alter it. Why waste time with more flowery speech? She's dead. That's that.

In January, my father died. I could say that my father has gone off waltzing to the other side, or that he's with St. Peter now, but I prefer to say that he's just dead. What's important is that the individual who is half-responsible for my genetic heritage is gone. I will never once again get the chance to speak to him, I will never once again get to hear his voice, I will never once again get to think of him in the present tense. He is simply gone. He is, quoth the raven, "nevermore."

Am I sad? Of course I am. Tom was my dad. I am named after him. I am Fredrik Erik Tom. And Erik was the name of my maternal grandfather. I am straddled with two middle-names that will now forever remind me of two father figures that I have lost. Not that I really feel much animosity over that, after all, isn't that the purpose of middle-names? To remind you of some person you were named after, when they were an adult and you were just a newborn? If you end up dying before the person you were named after, well, I'd consider that to be a tragedy. I guess I have to view it as my purpose, now, to carry on the memory of these two men. And one day, I'll have children of my own, and I'll name them Erik and Tom. Though, it's gonna get awkward if I only end up only with daughters...

But this hypothetical child of mine, this daughter named Hecate Erika Tom, she won't have the same impression of these names as I do. To her, the names would lack substance, the real icky stuff that life is made from. These deceased men are kin of hers, and she might enjoy being told about them, but they are family members that died long before she entered this world. To me, they played an instrumental part in my viscous adolesence and, at least one of them, stuck around for long enough to watch me solidify into an adult. My grandfather died when I was fairly young, and it took me some time to become aware of just how much of my artistic sensibility I owe to him. Yes, I can appreciate him, and my likeness to him, even after he's gone, but my mental picture of him is still influenced by having once known him as a living and breathing organism.

I wonder if my child could ever know their grandfather Tom as anything more than just this theorical ghost of history...

I mourn. Of course I do. It is hard to know just how you're supposed to lament the passing of those you've lost. Are you supposed to be strong, stoic, and protestant about it? Or are you supposed to wear all black, weep openly, and convert to Catholicism? My world hasn't changed much since my father died, in fact, what has occurred is likely to be thought of as being for the better. My father left behind a dear inheritance. My sister will be able to take over his winsome house, and I will be able to take over her comfy apartment. From the perspective of living-standards, we both seem to be benefitting from our father's death. And he had a life-insurance! I thought only murder victims killed by their spouses had those.

And I know my father wanted us to inherit something big from him. In his final years he'd every so often talk about the things he were looking to leave behind to the next generation. He was very happy when he finally paid of his mortgage, seemingly just because he was now able to continue saving up more money. He never spent any money, it was blatantly obvious that he never intended to spend it on anything special. Yes, once he talked about maybe going on a long cruise somewhere, but that never happened. He intended for the money to go to us. He was never an expressive person, but I know that this was one way he could show me and my sister that he cared for us. And that is admirable, I suppose. But he was a cold and unemotional dad. Money doesn't really change that.

Yeah, my daddy was a difficult man. I never disliked him, but I often felt sorry that I didn’t have more of a connection with him. And, as his son, I was often thought to have the closest relationship with him. At times it made me feel so uncomfortable hearing others talk about my father with animosity, knowing that I was the one who spent the most time with him. Though, I can't blame anyone for struggling to cope with him. I struggled, too. But even just sitting together in resolute silence, like two proper muted norsemen, I think I got to know the sort of person that he was.

He wasn't a mean-spirited man, but he wasn't a considerate man. I think he could have done so much more to make others feel better, to make them feel more content and more happy, but I don’t think he ever meant any harm to anybody else. In many ways, I think he wasn’t equipped well-enough to deal with life. Mentally or emotionally. My father lacked that special “something” needed to make it easier to create deeper bonds with others. Possibly not aided by the fact that he had such an icy relationship with his mother, who once openly told him she never really wanted him, at all.

Was my father autistic? I don’t know. I want to say no. Because if my father was autistic, then the form of autism he had, it led to nothing good. I am autistic, and I like to think of myself as receiving just as many positive traits from my peculiar neurology as negative once. I think of autism as complex, and frankly wonderful, in its own way. It’s a smashing rainbow of diversity, with so many ways it can manifest itself, for better or for worse. My father just seemed so, monotonous. Especially late in life, when all he did was wake up and watch sports, then go to bed, rarely eating anything more than some bland porridge and a carrot. But I guess that sticking to one's routines is considered a hallmark of autism.

I don’t want that existence to be the one I have to look forward to. My father never really seemed to express any real enthusiasm for life in the end. I’ve heard that the seventies is when people are supposed to be at their happiest, but my dad died at the age of seventy-seven, and he seemed more depressed than ever. It's sad to think that your close family member died dissatisfied with life. A lot of it had to do with his busted knee. He could not walk, the way he used to. He used to go on these long walks, and he used to have friendly, if mostly shallow conversations with a wide range of people. Again, my father struggled with forming profound bonds with other people, but he wasn't a surly or misanthropic individual. He seem to have been positively well-liked by most of the people who casually knew him.

I grew up in one of those places that’s something of a bland mix between a suburb and a small town. It's the best of two worlds, and the worst of two worlds. I can't say I love the place I grew up, but I also can't say that I hate the place I grew up. Some of the folks that my father ended up casually connecting with were people that he had been roughly familiar with for a long time. They shared the same stomping grounds, they walked the same earth, they drank the same water. We’re never going to feel as interconnected as we once upon a time felt when our little village was all that we truly knew of the world. But, there is something to be said about being able to pass by some house you haven’t seen in a while and knowing who exactly lives there and how you are, even in the most esoteric and faint way, known to them.

“Oh, don’t you know that kid you once went to school with, that you once played football with for a summer back in the nineties? Well, it turns out I had a really good chat with that person’s grandparents.”

Yeah, dad, I am vaguely familiar with that kid, sure. He had really blond, almost white hair, and it was very curly. I remember playing football with him, though, I never liked him and I certainly never liked playing football. It is easy to regard your surroundings growing up as something of a prison, or the trial process you're over-eager to get done with. Most of the kids I remember growing up alongside I would never as an adult choose to spend any time with. They were dreadfully dull people. I am not sure any of them would appreciate me starting this blog post by referencing Camus.

My parents decided to move here. I did not make the decision to be born here. Now, I am not all that struck by wanderlust. I wish not to move to some other country or some other region far away from home. I'd be quite content one day owning a quaint little house, with a sizeable area for me to convert into an artistic workshop, somewhere north of Stockholm, in Roslagen, the part of the country that I am from. But ideally, it shouldn't be exactly where I am from. If I could move some slight difference away, say some neighbouring municipality, then I'd be most pleased. Like I think most people, I want more of the same, just also vaguely not quite the same.

It always felt like my father was fixed in place. Permanent. Actually, it felt as if my father was some damn heavy rock, some soul that would always stay where he was, in just that position, forever and forever. Stubborn. Inflexible. Unyielding. Like those glacial erratics, big giant boulders found around the northern hemisphere. Part of me is as shocked by the disappearance of my father as I would be if some ancient mountain where to simply vanish. Tom? Dead? How did the gods allow that to happen? Fathers can die, just like that?

But in his youth, he wasn't so sedentary. My father used to entertain us with stories about his wayfaring youth. His adventures in France. The joys he felt going skiing. All the wine and cognac he drank. That time he got accidentally engaged with some farmer’s daughter. In all his tales, he seemed like such a different person, an individual so lush with life and with enthusiasm. I was enraptured hearing these tales from my dad, a person superficially so passionless. But it also hurt. To learn that a person so close to you used to have a daring and exciting life, then things changed just as you came into the picture.

I guess that this post is coming too late. I could have written this when he was still alive, I could have done something to express these thoughts to him when he was still capable of responding to my woes. But, at the same time, I don’t think I’d have the same perspective. The memories I have of my father are conflicted. Confusing, actually. But only now am I beginning to see some greater narrative emerging. We all need that. Some story to tell ourselves. It is important not to fall into the predictable traps, not to make reality seem more black and white than it really is, but... Just knowing where we belong, in the great chain that is our lineage, is instrumental to finding peace in grief.

And, even if he was still with us, I never would have learned if he too had autism. That man would ever have subjected himself to the kind of neuropsychiatric evaluation that I went through. It is really a pointless question to ask. The state of my father’s neurology was something that I was never going to learn about, and I am peace with that. Some people are more susceptible to these discussions than others. I am happy to occasionally hint to my mother that she may be “somewhere on the spectrum,” but I would never have felt at ease telling my dad he might have some significant neurological condition.

He could have been autistic, he could not have been autistic, I might as well pick up a flower and begin to pluck out the petals, that might just be the most reliable way for me to find out. He wasn't the sort of person inclined towards deep self-reflection. And it is true that my mother's family also exhibits traits of autism spectrum disorder. Especially my grandfather Erik, the other daddy I was named after.

I’ve written all of this late at night, after I've had some wine and some vodka. In so many ways, I am a chaotic person. I’ve always struggled to get to bed early, I’m always at my most productive those hours of the day I am supposed to be doing something else. I’ve always related to odd and weird people, those who seem to view the world from an outsider’s perspective. I am not good at behaving “normal.” One thing I could never comprehend was my father’s capacity to go to bed, every night, at a reasonable hour, and to awake early and before noon. I longed to see some dysfunction in my father, to see some evidence that I was truly his son, but all that he hid behind several walls of emotional sterility.

My father had a secular burial. It was quite a lovely little ceremony. We had a woman doing live performances of some of my father’s favourite bluesy songs from the 1970's. His family was there, some of his neighbours, also me and my sister, our mother and her sister (our aunt.) And I cried. A lot. My father’s older younger brother also cried a lot. He looked real tormented, actually. I felt acutely sorry for him. I have two uncles on my father's side, but one uncle is much younger than the other. My father and his brother closest in age grew up almost being twins, only one year separating them, they were really close. I have an older sister, no brother, so I can only imagine what it is like to have a fraternal relationship like that. I had my father for thirty-two years, he had him for seventy-six.

I am going to art school now. I am hoping that I will be able to keep going down this track, making "fine art," perhaps one day even receiving some recognition for my work. Working with these things physical, sculpting and painting, it gratifies me more than manipulating anything digital. No, I am not bitter. I am happy with where I am. But I am also paying for my current education with funds my father provided me with. Actually, the last conversation I had with him I called him to remind him to please send me some money so that I could pay the invoice I had just received. I could have regrets about that, wishing that our talk had been about something more profound and less tawdry, but I don't have any regrets. That's just life. And money is an integral part of it.

I am filled with heartache, and I am filled with confusion. I am not feeling the summertime bliss this year. It’s been months, yes, but grief is four-dimensional. Grief doesn't care about linear time, it comes and goes seemingly at random. At some times you may feel at peace, then suddenly, you remember that your dad is gone and a profound sadness overtakes you. The complexity of your relationship with him doesn’t really matter when you’re at that point just repeating in your head “my daddy is dead, my daddy is dead, my daddy is dead.”

Grief is primal, and sorrow is animal. It’d be much easier to deal with it all if we were just a bunch of logical aliens, some cold androids, but we’re messy human beings, no matter our diagnoses. It really doesn’t matter, in the end, if my father was autistic or not, all that matters is that he’s now no longer with us, so all we’ve got left is our memories of him. And one day I will figure out exactly what kind of narrative I wish to tell about his life, just how I wish to capture all the confusion I feel when I think about him. Maybe it wouldn't be all wrong if I chose to focus on the good things.

Rest in peace, Tom, my dad, and I hope that you may have thought of me, or my sister, the very last time you closed your eyes.

[alonelystargazer]

🛼 +🥑+ 🥤 +🧸 +🧩 for the ask game?

hello mystery person! thank you for the ask, I hope you have a nice day! ✨

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

okay I do this with my itafushi week fic: 📸😊😳💞🫂

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

I don't think I would be so careless as to kill someone on accident, if I'm gonna do it's with full intent (for legal purposes, that was a joke, haha! my educational background is criminology btw so I know this shit lol), but I would probably bring @thegoodgege and @rcedge but I don't really wanna involve anyone, I'll clean up my own mess

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

This is such a difficult choice bc I love all the fanfic authors! I think I'm moots with most or all of my fave jojo, jjk, and kagurabachi fic authors so that already is so special to me!! I have a link to my ItaFushi fic rec list in my pinned post so go check those fics out! But one that's not on that list is an itafushi fic called ruination was honeyed and holy

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

for pretty much the entire life of my blog, I've centered it on fandoms that I'm currently interested in, and right now that would be jjk and kagurabachi (I made a side blog for that to stay organized), so I'll follow back if we have similar fandom interests (especially ships) and sociopolitical ideals, and also if you are active/semi-active online (at least one post per week), but I'm not super strict with that last part.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

if the formatting of the text makes it unreadable, like no paragraph breaks or super huge paragraphs. I try not to let grammar or spelling mistakes bother me bc I know that there are many non-English native writers and beginner writers, so it doesn't seem to fair to knock them for that. But also untagged triggers or warnings and no summaries or tags at all. Like, you don't have to give too little or too much away, just a little taste to entice the readers!

[fizzingwizard]

There have been a number of improvements on Tumblr I've wished for over the years, such as

being able to pick which blog I want to post to from the bottom of the post, instead of constantly having to scroll back to the top (since posts would automatically jump to the bottom where tags etc are)

ability to delete reblog chains in your own reblog

even though I still complain about it, For You is a little better - at least I don't get recommended my own posts anymore.

some improvements to photos. some is better than none hehe

which is great. and i am hopeful for the new communities feature. i really don't know how it's gonna look on tumblr, but I do like the idea, and think it'll be fun and maybe finally get people more interactive with each other, instead of running off with their tumblr friends to interact on discord. fingers crossed

NOW my number one, biggest ask for tumblr, number one on my wishlist, something I've wanted since I started using tumblr back in uhhh - *cough*whisper* 2012 *cough* - is a better way to organize Likes!!!!!

Because it is and has always been an absolute mess. You like a thing, it gets stored in your likes, and then you never see it again because it gets buried so deep and there's no way to search for it except to page back endlessly till you find it.

Idk about you guys, but it often happens for me that if I reblog a post from my likes, the page sometimes gets stuck buffering and I have to refresh it. And if I refresh, I lose my place in the stored likes. And I have to start all over again. So I try to only open posts in a new tab before rebogging them... but fingers slip, you hit the space bar by accident *sigh*... innumerable things make trying to speed through 12 years of likes absolutely impossible.

The main changes I'd love to see to Likes:

pagination, same as on blogs, so if you lose your place you can just go back to the page you were on instead of starting off from square one for the nth time

a search feature!! that would be amazing. searchable tags or searchable text

or how about the ability to tag likes when you like them, so you can just click a tag from your list and easily find posts you filed under that category for later?

heck even the ability to search through likes by the year they were added to your likes would be a help... at least to long-time users like me

honestly I don't need all of theses, i'd be happy just with the pagination. but I really really would love to see some changes. i don't reblog everything I like at once for a lot of reasons, and I have tried the queue, but I had issues with the queue dropping posts and me not knowing what ones they were, and also I just plain don't like it. If I post a thing I want to see it immediately. I uses a "queue" tag and still offended myself when posts I'd queued on purpose showed up and I'd forgotten about it till I saw the tag xP Yes, that's my own stupidity, but a better system for likes would definitely help my experience, and be overall useful to everyone I think.

[thesunw1tch]

Moving-In Ritual

Goldie's Guide To Witchcraft: A Tumblr Grimoire for the Masses

Hello All! It's me, The Sun Witch! I figured that since my Moving-Out Ritual post did so well, I might as well post a template for what to do once you actually move! I'm actually moving into my next apartment in about a month, so I'm in the same boat with y'all.

I believe that you can implement your path as loosely or as strongly as you like in the following phases. I didn't quite recommend it last time since the goal was to create a blank slate, but this time? You kinda go wild, it's your new space, let it get to know you!

For example, in my new place? I'm an eclectic but primarily a Sun Witch, so I will line up the following steps with specific times of day if I can. My exact move-in and move-out time has not been expressed yet by my building, so we'll see if I can make my plan work. Anyhow, you could do the same, but I encourage you to get creative with it!!!

Phase 1: Physical Cleaning

I bet that once you get to your new place, you're going to need to do a few things before you start unpacking boxes. Start by...

Check for cobwebs, overly shadowy undercarriages, rust, mold, lime or calcium build-up, etc. Not only are these things just a plain eye sore, but they can cause you to feel negatively towards your new home, which in turn could welcome negative energies.

Do your best to fix these issues if they will obstruct your ability to be comfortable or will make the moving-in process strenuous.

Organize your boxes of belongings! This may be common sense, but please place boxes for specific rooms in those respective places. It'll just make it easier in the long run.

This is just a personal touch, but I like to keep the doorways and windows open whenever I clean to air out any lingering dust or chemical smells from a previous tenant or what have you. This can also help with the next step...

Phase 2: Spiritual Cleaning

Hopefully, you've listened to step one and haven't jumped straight here. Hopefully, all immediate physical abnormalities have been fixed, or at least accounted for. Additionally, you'll want to unpack before continuing on to make things a little easier. This may take a while, but there's no pressure to rush through it - take your time and organize your new space, let it get to know you, and find ways to best serve you. I've found that when you treat a place nicely, cleanly, and with purpose, it'll do the same to you!

Our next phase is dedicated to spiritually cleanse the space. There is an abundance of banishing, warding, protecting, cleansing, etc materials out there for y'all, so I won't include many specifics in this next portion.

Cleanse! Personally, I can't use smoke in my complex, and since I know this is the same for many others, I suggest using other elements! For instance, I'll probably use salt water or a method of wind cleansing to clean the slate! I can make a post on wind magick in the future if someone wants

Protect! In my own practice, I like to use sigils and the element of fire when possible. Now, I know I said we aren't going to use smoke, so instead I like to incorporate solar energies or visuals into the space. Ward and Banish however you feel comfortable as well :)

Flourishing! This is the fun part!!! Personally, I use air freshners for practicalities sake but you can use anything you'd like. Ask yourself what vibes you want to attract into your space - love? Sleep? Happiness? Choose a fragrance or make your own Flourishing spray and get to it! You can even take it a step further and use bundles of real dried herbs and flowers to really Amp it up!

Phase 3: Personalize

Everyone's practice is going to look different, as I have stressed throughout my posts on this blog, but what I'm going to add here is that it is crucial you personalize your space in a witchy way as well. Whether this means following traditional rituals or house warming customs of your practice or familial culture, or even just making a new ritual in your space is up to you!

I am a firm believer in the idea that your space isn't yours unless it feels like yours. Make sure your energy is flowing throughout your new home, that you're attracting that same sort of energy - you can do this anyway you please! If anyone wants specific examples or what I do, just let me know and link a post here :)

a n d that's pretty much it! I tried to condense the information here rather than in my previous moving post, so I hope you find this helpful :)

[salempie]

tell me about your daisy girlie i can tell you’re about to burst like a can of soup

i’m mostly curious on how psilirim would affect her, as well as non-psychics. or maybe she was originally a non psychic? i genuinely can’t tell from your post oopsies

but yesssss i love people working in psilirim beyond “makes brain hurt and cause delusions” or whatever rhombus of ruin did. idk i couldn’t play it without crashing because the vr headset i used was ass in a tin

if you’ve already answered something in the same vein ignore this oopsie…. i just immediately wanted to ask before scrolling ur blog

Sorry if this is all a mess, I’m not so good at organizing my thoughts!

I’ve actually tried to put some thought into psilirium, because it’s such a neat rock! But it’s basically just…Psitanium but worse? From what I could glean from the game. And other than ‘psilirium poisoning’ mentioned in the second game (bear with me I haven’t played either in like half a year) it was mostly ignored after Rhombus.

As for how it affects Daisy who yes, was born psychic! The first thing I focused on was its ‘magnetic’ effects when it comes to drawing people towards it. The commune she essentially takes over was formed far before Daisy had even considered running off. And it was formed due to the psilirium drawing people to the area! This quality gives Daisy somewhat of a charismatic edge with all that psilirium getup she’s got on. Call it a ‘magnetic attraction’ but people just seem to like the girl <3!

As for how it affects her psychics, I’m not sure how accurate the ‘fandom wiki’ is but it described psilirium as ‘distorting psychic energy.’ With the only other confirmed effects being “mania, hysteria, hallucinations, suppression of psychic abilities, and paranoia in psychics” (according to the wiki). I figure a handwaving of ‘distorting psychic energy’ is vague enough to let me add my own flair. Suppose it’s somewhat of a souped up version of psitanium the way I have been using it? But with the blatant psychological harm a bit more evident.

When Daisy first arrived psilirium had still been mostly undiscovered in the area, so she hadn’t had too much exposure to it. Some people (rarely) reported having strange hallucinations or unusual dreams, but it was mostly chalked up to the area just being a spiritual hotspot. Occasionally some weird glowing rocks would be found, but with no geologists or psychonauts to identify them, no one really knew what they were and kept them around mainly for their striking appearance. As more and more of the rocks were eventually discovered (or dug up), the effects began to compound.

With worsening mental health abound, as well as the decline of the hippie subculture as a whole into the 70s, many began to leave the commune. This left Daisy desperate, as I think I’ve mentioned before, and not in her right mind, she began to hypnotize the remaining members. Only a few at first but later the commune as a whole (though not on purpose). Those effected would begin subconsciously contributing their mental energy to Daisy, thus making her extremely resistant to the psiliriums negative effects.

That’s great! Because despite her resistance due to her now greatly increased mental energy, her mind was still heavily affected by those neat glowing rocks! She was left somewhat delirious, witnessing hallucinations as well as experiences delusions of grandeur at times. She began to order (like, it was more of a suggestion than an order, man, this is a commune not a dictatorship <3) the rocks be dug up more to aid them in their meditations and spiritual connections. Thus, the commune as a whole became a psilirium hotspot.

This meant Daisy, with her heavily fortified mental energy, was the only one to really be able to effectively use her psychics, with the psilirium’s repression of psychic abilities shown in RoR. Technology in the area bugs out too! So it really is a naturalist ‘utopia,’ at least in Daisy’s eyes.

So that’s! Yeah! Most of my thoughts I think? Idk! Heres also some somehow even less organized thoughts too that I can’t seem to place anywhere well:

There’s kinda just a general vague energy in the air around the commune due to the intense ‘radiation’ from all the unearthed stones

Daisy herself is like! Actually psycho-reactive at this point! Like! A walking hunk of psilirium…on a smaller scale of course. It kinda mixes with her actual psychic energy, making that ‘radiate’ as well. Basically with all that psilirium her hypnosis kinda has the effect of making a certain range of people around her more susceptible to suggestability by her! I wouldn’t call it full hypnosis though.

To add to that, she is constantly (and I do mean just like 100% of the time (except sleep I suppose?)) levitating! Part of the vague ‘radiation’ of her psychics. As well as her generally just being in a great mood thanks to weed and delirium!

The psilirium itself ‘warps’ and amplifies her psychics abilities a bit. It kinda ‘enhances’ them in the sense that there is sooo much psychic energy it’s just bursting to get out.

For example, she’s an Empath of sorts (an ability @spaloonbabooguuscooties came up with for her Franke in our ramblings) but, distorted in a way so that, while she can still somewhat feel what others are feeling, it’s more her forcing her own emotions onto them. Not fully but, they can certainly feel what she is feeling. In addition her ‘sensing’ of emotion isn’t just relegated to having to touch them either! Close enough, in tandem with her rudimentary telepathy, she can basically understand entirely what her ‘followers’ are thinking and feeling! Though it’s partially due to their obvious psychic connection.

Her hypnosis of course was effected, becoming a vague radiation of charisma and charm around her even when not using her own abilities.

Aside from just the constant, constant, use of it, her levitation wasn’t changed much.

Her herbophony hasn’t really changed much either, but some of the plants in the area have become psycho-radioactive as well, giving them a bit of a psychic edge. It allows her better communication with them as well as giving some plants psychic abilities for themselves.

Most of what psilirium has done to Daisy is make an unstable person more unstable and a psychic person more psychic. But in an obvious much worse, much faster, and much more overt way than psitanium. Or at least I hop im that’s how it comes across <3!

[necromoonstar]

Below is all done by voice to text because I just need to get out of my head and every time I try to type it on my phone it just gets lost on me and I get disoriented and I don't care I want this out I want to finally post this this is my

I don't know if I'll finally go fully through with it but I am currently trying to seriously plan out my own personal website to have just starting with a NeoCities

this is either the third or fourth time I've tried to plan out something for myself but I'm got papers that I'm writing things out on I got a folder full of stuff and documents full of things bookmarks I feel like I might actually finally go through with it this time

Literally all that changed was I realized that having the main place that I hang out at as a "personal space" being a place that has such negative everything and this constant feeling of they could just pull a trigger and delete everything from me on top of realizing just how racist a lot of the community is and wanting to have a safe space to actually explore and talk and post art

The side blog ideas were wonderful for a bit and I genuinely was starting to get a little more active and that's partially why I'm like no I need to finally go all the way and make this website one way or another and then this these blogs can be a secondary space where I can hang out with people more directly but I don't depend on them for being my spot that anyone could just disrupt that I can pack up and move whenever I want

Honestly the idea is so freeing and it feels so fun I have so many ideas for things I want to do once I get this set up like I want to genuinely finally do these topics of discussion I wanted to make posts on like my first thoughts meeting Peter Pan in Kingdom Hearts and what I thought of him and Hooks story. I want to just have fun like in ways I don't feel like I've actually ever felt comfortable doing because I've seen so many people be harmed when they've tried

The only thing is honestly how hard it feels like it is to get started and that's the reason why I keep giving up is the I don't like doing stuff without making ground work but the groundwork is the hard bit but once I have the groundwork I know I'll be away it's just how do I get started

I found a site layout that I really like so at the very least I won't have to do a ton of coding to have a base to post onto but I don't know what way of setting up pages and the actual site map like the site map is one of my biggest confusions on how do I set this up what do I do how do I organize this I like things organize what do I do

Hell what extra pages do I add what pages do I want to do at all what kind of things do you add to a personal website it feels just so much while a regular old blog you just shove things out you have tags and that's about it but everything's just in one place which sucks but but I'm over speaking freaking out just wanting to finally post that hey I experience actually wanting to do fandom stuff and have fun and draw but also I can't yet because I want to feel like I have a safe place to do it

I am so thankful for the friends I've made who also ended up making websites even put this idea in my head originally way back and I'm so happy to even have some friends now even though things have happened off the internet that have made it harder to be as active and interact as much as I'd like

I want nothing more to enjoy the same fandom experience that I hear used to exist on the internet yes that's still included Your flame Wars your ship Wars but it never sounded like it ever got to this degree of politics and also didn't have this degree of Puritan NSFW it feels like

I have media that I cannot wait to touch I have some stuff I have been touching but I've had stuff that I've purposely left on the back burner that I have wanted nothing more than to dive into but I never wanted to touch it until I knew I could be that loudmouth fan that I know I would be if I actually touch them and I want to finally put in the effort to give myself the space to do that

And with that I hope to finally just be free and start to recover

Really the few friends that I have made on here I'm so happy I have and I can't wait to refresh myself and start basically over and be able to interact with you all again and this time actually have fun instead of constantly suppressing my own voice just to make sure that I'm acceptable to this crowd I'm not even trying to appease just I don't want the attention of

Sorry for putting this long thing on your dash but thanks for being around and hanging with me and I can't wait to have happier days to come

I hope you the happiest days you can be and your own Fresh Starts in recoveries whenever you need them may we all have an improvement in a better life, yeah?