#but I went through the effort of typing it out so have my ramblings

[maniculum]

200 13th-Century Names

I've made a thing and thought others might be able to get some use out of it. If you just want the d100 tables, scroll down to the cut and skip my rambling as to what this list is. Short version, it's a d100 table of male names and a d100 table of female names, taken from 13th-century English records and trimmed to minimize names that were used within the last 140-odd years.

While working on my Dungeon23 project (updates collected here, by the way), I was looking for names for my NPCs, and stumbled upon the Henry III Fine Rolls as a source. This is a digitization and indexing of records from 13th-century England that include a lot of personal names. It contains references to a database they made that sorts these names by popularity and other factors, but the database apparently hasn't been maintained, because it's gone. For a while, I was just picking names from articles about that database, but I started to worry I was going to run out (due to my tendency to name any corpses of dead adventurers in the dungeon just in case someone likes to cast speak with dead). So I went to their index of names, which is great if you're looking for a specific person, but not useful if you just want a list of personal names, and decided to use their data to make a couple d100 tables for myself.

I went through the index and typed all the names into a spreadsheet. Then, to give the list a more medieval feel, I sorted them by how often they appeared in the Social Security Administration's data on baby names. (I know that's a bit US-centric, but to my knowledge there is no global database to use for this purpose.) Then I removed all the ones that appeared most often on the baby names list -- I figured if you were rolling on a table of medieval names, you'd be a bit disappointed if you got "John" or "Mary". (Incidentally, the following names appear both in the Fine Rolls and on the SSA's list of the top 10 (male and female, so 20 actually) baby names for 2021: Emma, Oliver, James, Ava, William, Isabella, and Henry.) I used the data going back to 1880 for thoroughness.

In the case of male names, this meant I was able to remove all the names that appeared in the SSA records. So the names in that table were (probably) not used at all in the U.S. between 1880 and 2021. (The SSA apparently doesn't keep records on names that appear less than five times in a given year, so it's possible there were a few of these guys around, but not many.) This is because, as you may expect from medieval records, there were more than twice as many male names in the records as female names, so there were more left over after cutting the ones that appeared in the SSA data. So twenty of the female names on the table were also used in the US since 1880, but not often.

I did not make any effort to sort names by etymology, so the list includes French, Welsh, Scandinavian, &c. names, not just names that have an English origin. Multicultural, for "pretty much just one quadrant of Europe" values of "multicultural". I don't think that should break anyone's immersion or anything; medieval people traveled around more than people tend to think.

Speaking of breaking immersion, I also cut the following names off of the list because I thought they might be distracting to your players if you randomly assigned them to an NPC -- or to your audience if you use this to name characters for a writing project. I'm not going to say there's something wrong with these names, just that they're the sort of thing you would want to only deploy on purpose:

From the male names:

Cok

Flourecoc

Hammecok

Marmaduke

Odo

Vivian

From the female names:

Cuntessa

Cuntus

Licorice

Also, to note, I've kept them separated into 100 male names and 100 female names because the source data was pretty firmly entrenched in the gender binary. Obviously you can do what you want with your characters' genders, though, and if you want to completely ignore the division, feel free to combine them into a single list and roll a d20+d10 for a d200 table.

Anyway, without further ado, the tables (or, well, lists numbered 1-100) are below the cut.

d100 Medieval Female Names

Acilia

Albrea

Alcis

Aleys

Alveva

Alvona

Amabilia

Amice

Amphelisa

Angaretta

Annora

Antigonia

Anura

Argia

Arniun

Ascelina

Aude

Avegaya

Avice

Barbata

Basilia

Belasez

Belina

Bertrada

Blitha

Bruncosta

Burgia

Celecestra

Claremunda

Clemencia

Comitessa

Constantina

Cundya

Custantia

Dervorguilla

Desiderata

Duva

Edelina

Egelina

Egidia

Emicina

Ermengard

Ermintrude

Escilia

Esterota

Eustachia

Fluoria

Frethesenta

Genta

Goda

Godelina

Godina

Goditha

Goldcorna

Goldina

Guinda

Gundreda

Gunilda

Gunnora

Hawise

Huwelina

Idonea

Imayne

Imenia

Isolda

Ivetta

Kamilia

Langusa

Laurencia

Lesianda

Letewaria

Liveva

Maciana

Mariota

Maszelina

Meisenta

Melcana

Nesta

Nichith

Olencia

Olenta

Oriolda

Osamunda

Pavia

Pelaga

Petronilla

Phillipa

Quenilda

Sanchia

Sapientia

Sarotha

Scolastica

Sigerida

Sinolda

Slima

Theophania

Wulveva

Wymarca

Ymanea

Yselia

d100 Medieval Male Names

Alard

Albric

Alfwyn

Algrym

Alnothus

Amauvin

Amfrid

Anessans

Arnewic

Arnulph

Ascelin

Asketillus

Astun

Avenel

Azus

Baldekin

Bonefey

Chernon

Costericus

Cradoc

Deodatus

Deulecresse

Deulobene

Eglinus

Ellemus

Elvered

Engelard

Engeram

Ernisius

Ernulf

Everwin

Ferrand

Fraricus

Fulk

Galerand

Gemmion

Gernegan

Godebrich

Godescallus

Gruffydd

Gundwin

Hagin

Halengrattus

Hasculph

Heinfrid

Heltonus

Herlewin

Hermer

Ilger

Imbert

Innorus

Isenbard

Joldwin

Jollan

Jukell

Jurninus

Ketelbert

Lefrich

Lefwin

Manasser

Mauger

Meredudd

Meuric

Mosse

Odard

Odinell

Orm

Ranulf

Ratiken

Reinfrid

Rochulf

Roscelin

Ruellus

Runcinus

Salekin

Samariellus

Savaric

Selvius

Serlo

Terricus

Thoreword

Tollanus

Turgot

Turkill

Ulf

Ulfketell

Urricus

Vivard

Waldethus

Walding

Waleran

Walkelin

Wandregisilius

Wicmannus

Wigan

Wischard

Wurmund

Wybert

Wymarc

Wynan

So yeah. There you go. For your TTRPG or writing project. Knock yourself out, let me know if you do anything cool with this.

[sorencd]

FROM ME TO YOU

pairing: steven meeks x reader

summary: you've been receiving a ton of letters lately. no address or anything, just a letter. who's it from?

word count: 2k

a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED IT RAHHHHH I FINISHED IT THANK U TO WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS ANON I FORGOT BUT ANYWAYS I FINISHED IT RAHSHSHAHHHHH

masterlist

"you know, this isn't really fair. i was expecting people to not really like these types of crackers because come on! they're childish! practically child-shaped and screams 'child' all around!" you huff before sitting down on your desk with your arms crossed, not noticing the piece of paper in front of you.

"then why do you buy them then?"

"because it's good!"

"then maybe that's why they buy it."

you just came back from your quick stroll outside to unwind from the stressful lesson you and your brain were put through and to hopefully, score yourself some delicious goldfish crackers, but to your dismay, they were all out of your favorite snack.

"the shopkeepers by now should now that i absolute- what's this?"

"woah, there's another one!"

there on your desk sat an envelope that interrupted you from you rambling. there was no address, no sign, no nothing. the front and back were pristine as ever and it had only your name neatly written on the bottom corner. lately, you've been receiving a handful of letters of the same nature─ just your name and a romantic letter inside. you carefully opened the seal to retrieve its contents, expecting the usual lovesick and hopelessly devoted warble you've grown accustomed to. you have even begun to expect a note somewhere on you or your belongings early in the day, whether it be on your desk─ like the one in your hands right now, your bag, slid in between one of your books, or it would be shuffled in along with your notes. 

"is it from the same person?" you continued carefully unsealing the paper while your friend watched you with eager eyes, excited to see what's in store this time.

you've got to hand it to whoever's doing this, though. they're very dedicated; continuously sending you love letters every day like it's their job. you'd receive one after another and another and another. this person made sure to never miss a date. you pulled out the love letter and along came it was a small flower stuck to the corner. a flutter from your heart travelled down to your toes and set your whole body in a feeling of excitement as you recognized what the flower symbolized; it made you forget all about not being able to eat the delectable treat you were so set on getting your hands on. you also had to resist the urge to grin like an idiot, keeping on the nonchalant facade and instead looked around the room for anyone who could possibly send this to you. but it was only you and your friend.

"so this is what you do in your spare time?"

steven jumped from his position behind the door and quickly pulled back into the corridor, frightened when charlie suddenly appeared out of thin air. he shook his head and pinched the space between his eyes with his fingers. if only he could muster up enough courage to hand the letters in person, but he knew better than anyone he'd only freeze on the spot and make a fool of himself, and the last person he wanted to weird out was you. 

"i was only making sure (y/n) got my letter, i put a lot of effort into that."

"i think (y/n) would appreciate it more if you reveal yourself."

charlie received a scrunched and dumbfounded glare to his proposal. he was absolutely appalled that charlie could even suggest such a vile thing.

"come on! grow yourself a pair, eh?"

steven could only shake his head again to show his distaste to his friends suggestions. in the midst of his and charlie's bickering, steven failed to hear the soft clicking of shoes on the floor that was slowly approaching the doorway they resided in. he also failed to see the sly grin on charlie's face and his gaze that went beyond his eyeglasses' frame, it was your turn to give him a heart attack.

before you were about to head for the washroom, a familiar body was standing to your left along with someone else. it was that boy who you shared a class or two with, steven. recently, you've begun to notice that to you, he stands out more amongst the crowd. in a sea of people, you could easily discern him amidst the haze. this feeling gradually came onto you the more you saw him, and a silent hope behind the back of your mind wished that the anonymous letters were from him. after all─ the few times you came across his handwriting, at least often enough for you to recognize it, you could clearly see a resemblance between the two. but you just concluded it's your mind corroborating something for you to keep yourself from succumbing into insanity.

"(y/n)! what a surprise!"

"hi steven! hi… charlie?"

"right on the money!" 

the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, akin to something straight out of heaven was all his mind was set on. your laughter that steven loved so much filled the air and rang through his ears like a god-sent melody. in short it was angelic, and the things he’s willing to do just to hear it again would’ve made him a wanted man. 

"alright. if you both will excuse me, i have somewhere to go to. it was nice meeting you two!"

and there you go. quickly scurrying off into the crowd-filled hallways and blending in, disappearing from steven's line of sight just as quick as you've arrived.

"if i were you i'd be quicker about asking (y/n) out. drop the 'mysterious kid' act and get yourself a lover!" he received a shove from charlie accompanied by a cheshire-cat smile.

charlie was very adamant on helping him, steven concluded. and if he wanted to be free of the constant daydreaming about you, and get charlie to stop pestering him, he figured maybe it is time to reveal himself to you. 

with a rub to his sinus, steven begrudgingly agreed to remove the anonymity of his letters and finally give your secret-admirer a proper name.

you were organizing each of the letters in your small box that hid in the depths of your bag in the washroom to avoid anyone from seeing what you're doing. it wasn't like you compiling the letters was wrong, you just wanted privacy from prying eyes and a little breathing room for yourself. 

and all the while steven anxiously waited outside, a large lump in his throat that he couldn't seem to swallow no matter how much he tried. his fingers constantly fiddling as a result of his heart rapidly beating out of the cage of his chest, and every sound made him flinch. his nerves were buzzing like wildfire. was he really going to do this? reveal himself to you? what would you think? he shouldn't have listened to charlie. but on the other hand, he's got nothing to lose. aside from his dignity and maybe having to bear the pain of you trying to avoid him to relieve the awkwardness that could ensue, though that wasn't really much of an issue. at least steven thinks it's not. at the end of the day, he could always just walk away; you haven't seen him anyways.

a small, shocked gasp came from his left pulled him out of his train of thoughts and overanalyzing of the situation at hand, it was you. he mirrored your surprised movements and let out a shout of his own, he took a few steps back to recuperate. great, now it was too late and there's no way to get out of this now.

"steven! i didn't expect to see you again." he watched your eyes crinkle along your toothy smile, and for a moment he didn't know what to say. he was absolutely smitten just from hearing your voice. 

"is everything alright?"

"y-yeah uhm, i was just about to-" he darted his eyes around before settling them back on you, "can we go somewhere else? i-i'd like to tell you something."

you nodded, albeit not without hesitance due to his sudden invitation. the pair of you walked together. him leading you to where you presume is the spot by the lake, given you were walking towards the door where behind it would reveal the fields outside of hellton.

the walk on the way was nothing short of quiet and tense, is how you'd like to put it. you were tempted to initiate small talk, given that your surroundings were eerily quiet, and the silence was starting to ring in your ears, but you feared the conversation would just be short lived. so you opted to keep your mouth shut the entire short trip.

and now, after hearing nothing except for your shoes clashing with the floor, it was replaced with the chirp of birds and soft walking atop the grass. you heard steven halt in his tracks while you were busy admiring the view, and when you switched your focus to look back at him, you were now standing by a lake. the scenery feels like it was pulled straight out of a story book from winnie the pooh, you commented to yourself as you lifted your head to face steven. the crisp gush of the wind gently glazing your cheeks. but the boy in front of you shielded most of it. 

"so- what i was meaning to say was…." he paused, breaking eye contact to look down at his shoes before taking a deep breath. he wasn't sure if what he was doing was the right thing, or was it the right time to do so, but he already caught himself in whatever all of this is. and he's not turning back.

"it was me."

"it was.. you? the one who took the last bag of goldfish crackers?"

"what? no uhm.. i'm the one who's been.. you know.. sending those letters.." 

"oh." blood rushed to your cold cheeks and cascaded a warm red-hued tint, your eyes slightly widened and your lips were parted. this was surprising, you weren't really expecting it to be him. you thought he had no interest in anything involving romance because to you, he was very focused on studying. maybe there's more to him than you thought. you inhaled, trying to recollect yourself as quickly as possible. but how could you when someone just confessed to being your secret admirer?

"i was wondering too if you'd maybe like to, i don’t know.. go out on a date..? with me? sometime? we could go to that library you like that's nearby, i mean it's the only library nearby." there, he said it. he shot his shot, he can't take it back now.

"i think i'd like that."

steven felt his heart stop, he was blessed with seeing your smile that was as bright as the sun face to face, and it was directed to him! he must be dreaming! with his mouth agape and his cheeks impossibly redder than yours, he tried saying anything, anything at all that would tell you how pretty he thought you were, but nothing came out. the sudden irritating ringing of the bell saved him from the embarrassment he could've put himself into, it was time to return to classes again. 

"i'll see you later?"

"yeah, bye-bye steven. i'll see you later!" you shouted after him. steven had to fix his footing to prevent himself from tripping while he walked away. he turned back to wave at you again, who was walking towards the opposite direction. the boy with new profound energy rushed towards his next class as fast as his legs would allow him.

"someone's happy." gerard pointed out when steven took a seat beside him, a lopsided giddy grin on his lips and a slight bounce to each step he took. he felt like he was over the moon.

"see, i told you. you had nothing to worry about." a voice from behind, which belonged to charlie, who was wearing a smug expression, chimed in.

steven couldn't really hear what they were saying, though. he’s too busy daydreaming about how fun the library date would be, his own thoughts blocking out the others' voices. and he’s already conjuring up the next letter he's about to make for you out of pure excitement, maybe he'll include a poem or two into it, too.

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[ilovebeomkai]

under the stars — choi yeonjun x gn!reader

ෆ synopsis : y/n gets dragged to a party after coming back from studying abroad which leads her to cross paths with the choi yeonjun, but he's a lot sweeter than expected for being known as the party boy.

ෆ genre : fluff

ෆ warnings : none

ෆ wc : 1.8k

ෆ a/n : this is my first time writing so…this is probably really bad but we move unedited & lowercase intended

the view out the window of the plane was gorgeous, the sky painted with hues of deep oranges and light pinks as the sun set over the ocean. While the scenery was breathtaking it wasn’t enough to calm your nerves, you were finally going back to korea after studying abroad for 2 years in the states.

you were happy to be going home, of course you were, after all, your friends and family were all still living here. However you couldn't deny the anxiety and fear bubbling up inside, what if things had changed? Everyone has moved on without you? You just…no longer belonged? eventually, you got lost in your thoughts, mapping out every worst-case scenario before drifting off into a not-so-peaceful slumber.

a few hours later you were awoken due to the bumpy landing of the plane, a storm making it a bit rough but nothing too scary. The rain was strangely comforting, you’d always been someone who enjoyed staying in and reading a nice book with the comforting pitter-patter of raindrops against the window.

you’d just grabbed your luggage from the baggage claim, making your way across the airport when you heard y/f/n calling out to you, “y/n! Over here!” they yelled out whilst running toward you. “Oh my god, it's been forever! I know we’ve kept in touch but it just wasn't the same as having you here, how are you? Was the flight okay? I can’t wait to show you around, and there's a party tonight I can take you to and-”

you loved them but you had to admit all the questions at once were a bit overwhelming, the one thing that caught your attention being the mention of a party. “y/f/n- you know I'm not exactly a party person” you mumbled and they shook their head, “nonsense! You just came back and it’ll be a great way to introduce you to new people!”

you sighed and shook your head as y/f/n rambled on, you knew there was no use in arguing and you weren’t exactly the type to fight back so you simply accepted your fate as the two of you headed to your family’s home to settle in.

after settling in a few hours had passed and you were lying on y/f/n’s bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone as you waited for them to finish showering. “Soooo, about that party-” they started, settling down right next to you on the bed. “I already told you I don’t wanna gooooo” you whined, glancing up at them with an uninterested expression.

after a good 30 minutes of back-and-forth banter between the two of you, you accepted that there was no way out of this. y/f/n had lent you something to wear, as you hadn’t felt what you picked out was quite…party appropriate, and off you went to call a taxi.

the car kept driving for what felt like an eternity, following a windy road up a hill and coming to a stop in front of a house not big enough to be a mansion but big enough to elicit an audible gasp from you.

as soon as your feet crossed the threshold of the home you felt out of place, the loud music, crowded rooms, and overall overwhelming atmosphere was too much. y/f/n seemed to know everyone as she lead you through the sea of bodies, waving and greeting almost every other person. “Come on, you need to let loose!” were the last words you heard from them before they vanished from your sight.

somehow you found yourself wandering to the kitchen, grabbing a drink to occupy your hands to blend in and avoid looking even more out of place than you already felt. Despite your efforts to distract yourself and make the most of the situation the commotion seemed to be growing louder by the minute, unable to withstand the pounding in your head any longer you pushed through the crowd until you saw the moonlight leading you to a balcony.

there you stood, trying to get a breath of fresh air while leaning against the wall in an attempt to calm yourself down. Out of the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn someone was approaching, but you couldn’t be bothered to double-check. You didn’t know it yet but you’d just caught the attention of the most well-known party boy in the district, choi yeonjun.

“hey there,” yeonjun said, flashing a signature smile as he glanced down at you, “what brings a pretty person like you out here when all the fun is in there?” he chuckled, nodding his head back toward the inside of the house.

“just needed some space…” you mumbled quietly, unable to combat the smile tugging at your lips when you looked up and met his eyes. He could tell that you weren’t quite comfortable going back inside, but something about you was calling to him. “Do you maybe wanna go for a walk or something? It’s a lovely night and I assume you don’t wanna head back in there” he said with a kindhearted laugh.

“actually…that sounds nice” You nodded, that was all it took for yeonjun to grip your hand tightly but gently, leading you back through the sea of bodies and out the back door. The two of you walked aimlessly down the windy road in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company.

once the two of you reached the foot of the hill yeonjun took notice of the convenience store just down the street, “are you hungry?” he asked, to which you nodded in response. “I could eat right now” you laughed as he tugged you gently in the direction of the convenience store, “let's eat then, and get whatever you want, it's on me” he grinned as he opened the door for you, and followed inside.

your eyes light up immediately at the sight of your favorite snack, immediately grab a bag and continue to browse with it held tightly in your arms. Yeonjun followed behind you, finding the way your eyes lit up adorable.

after a few minutes, you heard Yeonjun’s voice echoing from another aisle, “Oh look! The tteokbokki here is amazing, trust me, do you wanna share some?” he asked, looking over to you with hopeful eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to say no and you did enjoy tteokbokki, “oh my god, yes!” you gasped happily, tteokkbokki had been a comfort food of yours ever since you were a kid and little did you know it was yeonjuns too.

soon you decided you were done and the two of you went up to the counter, everything was rung up and yeonjun led you to a table by the window and sat down. “So, care to tell me about yourself? I don't think I've ever seen you around…and if there's a party I'm always there” he added with a smile.

“well I guess it was obvious but I'm not really a partier, and I just came back after studying abroad so I’m still settling in” she replied nervously, yeonjun carefully taking note of your demeanor as he nodded. You guys began eating as soon as everything was heated up, at first the conversation was slow and minimal but soon enough you found yourselves opening up to each other. An extra 10 minutes turned into an hour until almost 2 hours had passed and you found yourself wondering where the time had gone.

“hmm we should probably head back now, your friend might be worried about you no?” yeonjung asked, tilting his head. Truth be told he didn't want to go back just yet, even 15 more minutes with you would make him ecstatic, but he didn’t want to push his luck. “Yeah I don’t want to worry y/f/n,” you said with a bit of a frown forming on your face. It was obvious that neither of you wanted to be without the other's company, having formed a strong connection in the short time you’d spent together.

it didn't take long for you and yeonjun to reach the party, but much to your surprise it was still going strong and y/f/n was nowhere to be seen.

“why don't we go up to the roof? The sky is pretty clear tonight so we can stargaze, I figure it’ll be a lot better than going back in there right now” he laughed, looking to you for an answer. You thought about it for a few seconds before nodding eagerly, “sounds amazing” you said, on the outside, you seemed indifferent but on the inside, you were thrilled to be able to spend more time with him.

yeonjun lead you up a staircase that lead to the roof, a nice flat surface that the two of you could lay on. “Sit here,” he said softly, patting the space next to him and waiting until you’d settle down next to him. As soon as you sat he laid back and nodded when you glanced at him, wondering if you should do the same.

“it's gorgeous out here right now…” he commented, the stars glittering above the two of you in a vast sea of darkness. You nodded, gazing up with him before excitedly pointing at a whole cluster of stars, “look at the group right there, it's breathtaking” you sighed contently.

before you knew it your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute. Yeonjun glanced over, taking notice and smiling to himself. He’d been stealing glances at you all night long, but you looked especially stunning with the soft glow of moonlight shining down on your face.

he’d only looked away for a few seconds when he turned to point out a constellation to you but was instead met with the sight of your eyes shut tight and your chest rising and falling gently with every breath.

“cute” he mumbled, placing his jacket over you and wrapping one arm around you gently, careful not to wake you. He closed his eyes as well, a stupid grin on his face as he drifted off to sleep as well with the sound of the muffled music echoing all around. He didn’t know even a fraction of what he wanted to about you, but he did know he’d do anything in his power to make you his one day, holding you close as you fell asleep under the stars.

[mellowquint]

Fanbinding Masters of Mayhem - a Ninjago and Lego Monkie kid crossover!!!

FINALLY after weeks of putting the project on the shelf i finally have the (motivation) free time to complete this amazing bookbind!!! Shoutout to my best friend who came to me and ask if i could bind it. So what better birthday gift than to bind her current favourite crossover story? At the time of this post i have not given the gift to her yet so fingers crossed that she likes this 🤞😖

Thank you FictionForLife_NZ for creating this absolute hilarious masterpiece!! I have been wanting to read an LMK crossover fic for the longest time and low and behold, the ao3 algorithm has answered my prayers lol. Me and best friend really love the character interaction that the Ninja’s have with the LMK crew 😂. Also the shipping!! Best friend absolutely LOVES dragonfruit but was sad that they didn’t have as much of a fandom dedication as opposed to spicynoodles. So imagine her suprised (and scream) that dragonfruit is the main pairing in the story and their many iconic moments together!! Also the climax truly had me at the edge of my seat!! And that ending?? Gosh couldn’t have asked it better myself Ninjago writers really should take notes ✍️!!! Anyways enough rambling here’s the fic if you would like to give a read, absolute 10/10

Flip through

Some close ups

also yes excuse me and my terrible phone and room lighting it did not do this book justice.

Unfortunately I couldn’t find any fanart that was related/tagged so there was no illustrations for the book. However thats when i had the idea of making the chapter title in the same font as the Ninjago font! To make it seem like every new chapter is an episode!

Also unfortunately couldn’t tag the author since i can’t find their tumblr. If any of you know if said author does have tumblr please let me know!

If you’re all curious on how i make this, i recommend going to the first bookbinding project that i did, its all the same process except with some new improvements that im gonna talk about under the cut

I definitely learned a lot from my mistakes from the last time that i did this, and of course gain new mistakes as well 🥲.

The edges aren’t trimmed

The cover isn’t aligned

The printing for the covers are garbage

Book would not lay flat, instead forever stuck at a weird 120 degree angle

Overall a lot of stuff

This was a given by the fact that i have no experience and was impatient. But since this is a gift for Best Friend ofc this has to actually look good, so here are the improvements that i made

Signature printing— i will admit it took some time and effort but after the old cannon printer finally died permanently jammed, managed to convince parents to buy a more advanced and better printer that can now do double sided printing!! No more wasted signatures from here on out 😮‍💨

Cover printing — not wanting a repeat of the last time that i did it i went to my local Officeworks to get it printed by them. Here i discovered the beauty that is known as ✨Poster Prints✨. Now all of my yellow lines and elements actually do show an pop against the darker background!! Unfortunately this does have a drawback because the prints are sensitive to any type of scratching. Not the scratch and all the colors come off way, more like the scratch it and lines will show up kind of way as you can really see in the front cover :') . Will work on improving this is future projects.

Trimming the edges — originally in book one i trimmed the edges using your typical box cutter and cut it myself. Bad BAD idea i was doomed at that moment. So imagine my surprise the Officeworks ALSO do CUTTING service!!! My jaw dropped and i immediately went back the next day with my text block and asked them if they could trim all edges. After some inspection they put it through the guillotine and all of my edges are perfectly trimmed. Saved me all the time, money, and storage.

Laying book flat — this was definitely the biggest pet peeve that I have with my first book. The way i do it now is i now put a one cm gap between the front cover, side cover and back cover. And also using the right paper (cardstock) to connect the text block with the covers. Now the book can actually fully open!!!

Cover alignment — I printed out the front and back in regular paper and use that as a template on where i wanna fold the prints to find the cover. Worked like a charm

once again shoutout to best friend for giving me the brilliant idea when making the covers!! had it not been for her to point out about clause's book of spells i would have never made the coolest cover page that I've made in my entire binding experience!! all in all im pretty dang proud of myself for being able to improve on my bookbinding skill.

[dopepoisonivyoncrack]

Despite appearances, I don’t think Astarion was in a condition to think of ways to kill Cazador in the last 200 years for various reasons.

I can’t speak from experience, nor am I knowledgeable in the psychology of abuse victims so I can only talk from what I gathered from other’s stories of abuse, my own common sense and reasoning.

Different people react differently to abuse, the time, type and intensity of it matters as well, and there surely isn't a real person to have gone through 200 years of absolute abuse. I suppose to make up for it, general things can be exaggerated in his case.

Moreover, unlike the real situations, Cazador had supernatural power over Astarion’s body and mind. Cazador commanded and Astarion’s body would obey, against his will.

He was tortured in every way possible. He was made to submit and cower in fear. From what I get, his spawn siblings confirm this. He is scared for most of the playthrough, especially in the beginning too. His rebellious nature survived, and was revived at the first opportunity of freedom but I think his survival mode was stronger than his rebellion for most time. Rebelling in any way towards Cazador was against survival in his case. And I’m sure Cazador did everything in his power to kill any such impulses.

Astarion sure thought of ways to escape in the past, but it seems he was worn down in time to a state of acceptance. His year in the tomb, his most terrifying memory, was 1 example of punishment against rebellion.

I don’t think one in his situation could stay in a corner and think of ways to kill Cazador; or look at Cazdor rambling insults and orders of torture and internally call him names and mentally utter ‘how much I would like to run a stake through your heart’; or think of ways to “pay him back” while being flayed; or lay back on his “bed” to make plans against his master.

I think any such thoughts, wills and hopes were beaten out of him, and that Cazador wasn’t allowing any opportunities, having them completely monitored and controlled (especially through fear of torture). Astarion confirms he is obsessed with controlling people and having absolute power over them.

I think all of Astarion’s time and energy went on surviving and fulfilling Cazador’s orders.

In order to even dream of killing Cazador, he would need a way to free himself first, he would need hope, he would need help and a break from the daily bullshit and torture. He didn’t have that. For gods sake, look at how much time and effort it takes for Astarion to recover a little and to fight Cazador. The quest is literally right there.

I know it's easy to joke about him not having a plan to kill Cazador after 200 years, but it severly downplays the effects of the extent and intensity of his abuses over one's mental and physical capacity to switch from defense to offence.

[starzgaze]

hi! Um I saw your requests were open!

Can I request some general headcanons for Liu Zhigang? Or relationship headcanons for him?

(If your not comfy, feel free to ignore!)

cheers,

-✒️nonnie

hii!!! and omg so many liu zhigang lovers im so happy but here are some of my takes on the pretty man and welcome ✒️ nonnie!!! 🫶

LIU ZHIGANG HEADCANONS

he's probably one of the loudest people you've met in your life but not in a volume wise loud.. like he probably doesn't shut up if he gets comfortable with you. when you first meet him, you might have the urge to wish that he just shuts up but nowadays you find it endearing how he talks about his day and how the raid went. it might be his cocky tone that steer people away but you somehow find it attractive as time passes by.

liu zhigang has the best hair routine and whenever you spend time with him you can catch a whiff of the fruity scented hair products he uses. his mother probably took good care of his hair and taught him how to watch over it, this probably stuck with him. he lets you run your fingers through his hair, feeling satisfied that all the effort of taking care of his hair scored him a sweet significant other that's you! you often catch him smugly smiling to himself as you play or comb his hair.

liu zhigang is stylish! i have a feeling when he finally earned enough he started to explore different types of fashion and is well versed in making up outfits. his go to colors though are reds, golds, blacks and probably white or silvers depending on which one looks better. zhigang would love to dress you up and match outfits, feeling a bit prideful whenever you two walk around the streets and people would gawk at the sight of you two's outfits because it's intricately designed with traditional chinese dragons and it mostly screams liu zhigang in the best way.

he gives the best hugs— i mean have you seen that one panel where he finished fighting off a titan?? that man is JACKED, he just looked so skinny when he wore the suit... anyway he gives the best hugs and it's usually in a form of a bear hug but it doesn't matter if he tackles you to the ground, it feels comfortable and safe in his arms. this probably becomes one of his reasons why he keeps up his muscular form, not because it's overall convenient maybe it's to give the best hugs haha.... he's too prideful to admit that though but it's definitely there—

I don't know but he gives me the vibe he would occasionally talk in his sleep if he's dead tired. you've experienced this for the first time when he had a tiring day of fighting a titan in the sea presumably with no land around him so he was probably... swimming and simultaneously fighting it which made a picture in your head of liu zhigang swimming furiously which made you laugh. anyway he would be sleeping beside you and mumble something in his sleep. this of course made you curious and when you lean in closed to under what the hell is he saying you would discover he was saying your name along with some cutesy lovey dovey mumbo jumbo which made you a little bit surprised. you're definitely gonna use this to tease zhigang later

this might be me self projecting but he probably has a small collection of perfumes. he smells surprsingly good and refreshing most of the time, since his nature of work would result to him being worked up and body temperature rising i feel blue scented perfume which are commonly to be refreshing but that type of perfume is what zhigang will use if he's out doing raids and stuff but if he's going on a meeting or something more professional he would go more of a musky and woody scent! liu zhigang might also have more knowledge than an average person when it comes to perfumes and scents so if you catch him unexpectedly rambling about scents you know why.

hhuhue I can't think of anything else but i wanted to add he loves using pet names and expand on it but i just realized i suck at thinking of good pet names without it sounding like an insult 😒 so anyway i hope this is good enough for uou!!! and live laugh love liu zhigang

[larvaem1lk]

talk too much

ellie williams x reader

🦋 ok so. this is kinda a little bit based off of me because when i’m around someone i really like i will talk their head off & just be annoying overall LOL. anyway, just reader being a lil too talkative while ellie’s trying to work ! but at the end she just gives in bc she loves her gf duhh

🦋 um no warnings !! thanks for reading :-*

(also sorry if ur name is miranda, kristy or ashlin. i just picked names off the top of my head whoops)

ellie’s sat at her desk typing on her computer, with a textbook open and desktop lamp casting a soft golden yellow across the thick pages. you’re in a chair beside her, the type with wheels that roll around, chatting and giggling about nonsense. you’re chirpy and awfully energetic being that it was midnight.

since you hadn’t seen your favorite green eyed girl all day, you walked in her dorm worried and confused. though the feeling quickly subsided as you saw her slumped over her desk, eyes glued to the large book in front of her.

greeting her with a quick peck to the cheek, you immediately plopped down on her bed and began rambling about your day, your girlfriend being the perfect person to tell all your thoughts to.

that was about three hours ago, and you were still here, talking and flying through the clouds in your own little world, practically annoying ellie at this point.

you were filling her in on the drama now, but ellie was too busy absorbing information about stars and celestial bodies and the universe. she’d give the occasional ‘mhm’, or ‘oh okay…’ in attempts to seem interested, yet her efforts went unnoticed.

“yeah like i was saying, i just can’t believe that miranda found kristy and ashlin in the bathroom…together? i mean it’s kristina, stuck up and bitchy kristina who i’m sure was straight. that girl—yeah. but then it’s like, i don’t understand what position they’d have to be in for both of them to be on the wall… you know? i dunno! shits crazy, el. like batshit fucking mad. utterly ridiculous. off the charts. luludelulu. like-” you giggle, finding the words coming out your mouth silly and slightly embarrassing.

ellie blows a stale laugh through her nose, hoping that’d satisfy you as she was completely lost in whatever you were talking about. something about girls on girls, but she wasn’t interested. if it didn’t relate to you on top of her, or vice versa, she didn’t care.

she nibbled on her bottom lip as her eyes scanned over the tiny words of the textbook, brows furrowing as she was in deep thought. though she couldn't really focus due to the sound of a pen clicking nonstop. she gives you a glance and mumbles, “you have any work to do babe?” the sound quite literally driving her insane.

you tap the pen on the table now, pretending to draw love hearts around ellie’s name. “mmm, no. i don’t know. i just wanna be with you right now,”

“hm, okay.” ellie widens her eyes while letting a sigh slip out. this was going to be a loonngg night.

you twirl around in the chair for a while, humming a melody before another topic comes to mind. ellie doesn’t even say anything, pleased that you moved on from the pen to humming.

“anyway. i’ve been thinking…” you trail off, eyes meeting the ceiling as you tilted your head to the side in wonder. ellie hums flatly, lifting her head to the computer screen as she begins typing.

“…when we get married one day,” you begin, and ellie hums with more interest in her voice. okay, you were talking about marriage now. not between kristy and ashlin, but you and her. see, she was paying attention.

“y’think it would be on the beach? or, i dunno. maybe… like homey, set up in our cute backyard, once we get a house of course—with like, dina and jesse and joel and my people. just family. oh! oh my gosh! yeah it should definitely be in our backyard. that’s so cute. that’s cute, right el?”

“totally.” ellie agreed, leaning forward to squint through the white noise of the computer.

you chuckle at the monotone of her voice, wheeling forward to get a closer look at her. “totally, she said. when has ellie williams ever said totally?”

“now.” she responds, and somehow her comment is even funnier. you swing your feet back and forth, babbling on.

“ooh, what about las vegas? you know we’ll be eating good. like, good ellie. i think gordon ramsay has a restaurant there. or what if we get married in paris!” you practically squeal, scooting closer to your girlfriend.

you’re only quiet for a few seconds, eyes flitting over her scattered desk before another idea comes to mind. “oh, the eiffel tower… wait! wait.” you place a hand on her shoulder, fingers tapping against the soft material of her hoodie as you try to gather your thoughts.

there’s a brief moment of silence, and ellie’s mind feels calmer. cooler. she exhales a small slip of breath, letting her fingers type efficiently against the keys. besides that, the dorm is quiet. she could even hear the crickets outside chirping. finally. ellie thinks.

don’t get her wrong, she loved your rambles. your rants. your voice in general. but right now she was in work mode, 76% immersed in the material as the other 24% was for you.

that number was slowly ticking down with each second longer you stayed quiet, her completely focused on studying and only studying. she’s glad you took a break though. allowing your voice to rest, taking a moment to soak in the stillness—

“oh my fucking gosh! italy! we should get married in italy!”

nevermind.

ellie flinches. she flinches so hard that a cramp forms in her neck, squeezing and throbbing with a heat that burns through her upper back. “fuck,” she curses under her breath, rubbing at the spot. it’s like a tiny ringing appears in her ears at the sound of your voice; you’re babbling now, eyes wide as you shake ellie’s shoulder in excitement.

she lets you shake her as she tries to turn to you, tense and cautious of your next possible outburst.

“baby,” she says in an attempt to calm you, but you don’t hear her. obviously. too busy arranging wedding plans in your head.

“just—imagine the love, the romance. oh ellie, i really think we should do it! we’re gonna have to fly everyone out, and—ohhh the food…”

she smiles, feeling her heart swell against her chest. you were the cutest thing. oh, she was being such a dick. just let your girl ramble about wedding plans ellie, is your studying really that important?

yes. it was. so important in that all of the knowledge she had consumed tonight was to be used for a huge exam tomorrow that she could not fail. she couldn't fail. i can’t fail it.

but look at you, with your big bright smile, and your pretty sparkly eyes. the way you’re so excited about marrying her makes her wanna kiss you. kiss you. oh shit, that’s it.

“oh my gosh ellie, the food. would it be stupid to serve pizza? ‘cause y’know, some people don’t like pasta. but we’re in italy, and it’s literally… so like…everyone loves pizza! ugh, what should we serve?! and who the fuck doesn’t like pasta? hey, d’yknow if dina or joel—”

you’re cut off when her lips meet yours abruptly, both of her hands grab each side of your face to pull you closer. the kiss doesn’t deepen. it doesn’t escalate. your lips are just pressed to hers for a very, long time.

you try to wiggle free but ellie doesn’t let go. your lips smush together when you try to talk, and ellie sighs internally. the only thing you had done all night was talk, talk, talk. ellie didn’t wanna be mean, but damn, what else did you have to say?

she pulls away with an agitated groan, and you try to catch your breath while licking your lips.

“wha—what was that for? i was talking—”

“yeah, babe. you were talking. give it a rest, alright? geez,” she shakes her head and sighs out a breathy laugh before turning back over to her computer. “i can’t focus with you in my ear like that.” she mutters, not realizing that she’d just stabbed a knife through your heart.

you’re quiet, cheeks burning in embarrassment. you bounce your leg as you stare at the side of her face before looking at her computer, a wave of sadness creeping over you.

a few minutes pass, and it’s still quiet. too quiet. your mind is still whirring and picturing the perfect wedding for you and your girlfriend, and all you wanna do is talk about it. talk, talk, talk.

you bite your lip to prevent any sudden outbursts or peeps that might irritate ellie. you fiddle with your hands in your lap, and when ellie glances over to your pitiful frame, she frowns.

okay… shit. maybe i kinda fucked up. lemme see what’s wrong.

she types out the final words of her sentence before turning to face you, tilting her head to see your facial expression as your head is hung low.

“hey, babe,” she whispers, and you lift your head with a sigh.

“hm.” is all you say, your spark dimmed and nearing burnout.

ellie places a hand on your knee. her hand is cold and rough, which makes a ding go off in your mind.

“you know they say cold hands mean a warm heart.” you mumble, eyes shifting down to your fingers to continue fiddling with them. you had to let it slip it out, whether she liked it or not. you were sure after this that you’d keep your responses to a minimum, though.

ellie chuckles. you were always the type to say little phrases like that. “yeah? who’s they? ‘cause i dunno if that’s really true—”

“it is true! and don’t ask me. that’s what they always say… and it’s really true, because your—” you cut yourself off, a faint smile on your lips, but it soon falls once you realize you were supposed to be giving the almost silent treatment.

“…well? i’m intrigued now. you can’t just leave me hangin’ like that y’know.”

“ellie… i’ll tell you later.”

“later? why not now?”

you shrug, and ellie scoffs.

“hey, don’t be like that, i wanna know!” she nudges your arm with a smile, trying to pick up your mood. your facial expression remains, unamused.

“okay,” ellie sits up straighter and faces her desk to slam her computer, her book right after. that gets your attention, your head whipping up in confusion. she turns back to you, intent on giving you her undivided attention.

“alright. talk to me.”

you groan, trying to refrain from smiling. “ellie, i can’t-”

“you can.”

“but i was being really rude while you were working, and then you told me to basically shut up so i—“

ellie feels regret bubble in the pit of her chest, sizzling and erupting into her veins. she felt hot now. guilty.

damn, i really fucked up. “babe, i-i didn’t…” she pauses as she slides a hand down her face. “i didn’t tell you to shut up. not... in that way. i was just, a little overwhelmed, that’s all. i’m sorry, okay? truly. you know i love it when you talk to me. so… c’mon. lemme hear that pretty voice of yours.”

you feel bashful, eyelashes fluttering as your gaze meets the floor. you wanna give in, you really want to… but you quickly shake your head, no. she’s gotta finish her work. “but… you need to work, el. i told you i’ll just tell you later.”

her brows furrow, “uh, what work? right now is dedicated to me and my girl.” her green eyes shimmer a silver in the glow of the lamplight as she searches your face, and you feel shy under her gaze, your heart beating a little bit faster. you sigh quietly, a grin finding itself on your lips. “you sure?”

ellie shrugs. “of course. tell me allll about it.” she rests her elbow on her desk while leaning her head in her hand. 

“okay.” you beam, starting another one of your rambles. ellie can’t help but stare at you in awe.

[lulu24784]

washing machine heart | part 8

"I know who you pretend I am."

[AO3 Link] previous chapter | next chapter

synopsis: | You're absolutely infatuated with Stan Marsh and have even started dating him! It should be a dream come true, but the truth is, he's only with you to make Wendy Testaburger jealous. To help you work through your emotions, you turn to Kenny McCormick, your best friend.

pairings: | kenny mccormick x fem! reader ; stan marsh x fem! reader ; wendy testaburger x stan marsh

cws: | angst, drug use/drug mentions, explicit language, sexual content, unrequited love, mental health themes / sh

everyone is aged up to be 18+

Stan knew he had fucked up. Trying to deny it was a waste of time. He had lied right to your face. He wasn’t even drinking with his friends. He had been drinking alone in his room and lamenting every single mistake he had made in life. The next thing he knew, he was drunk and on his way to Wendy’s home.

It was bad. He knew that. He begged her to give him another chance, despite the fact that he was already dating you. When Wendy threw him out, he went to your place. Some type of date was planned for the two of you. He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter to him. Sure, you were cute… But you weren’t her. That’s probably why he left you with no remorse. You were blessed, in all honesty. He was a jackass, and you should have been able to do much better than him. That much was clear to him. He didn’t want to hurt you.

There was no use in trying to salvage your relationship now, so he decided to cut his losses. It was short anyway.. You’d get over it pretty quickly; he figured. It was a mistake to invite you into his fucked-up existence. He was going to hurt you in the same way that he hurt Wendy, and he didn’t want to subject you to that. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Really and sincerely… He felt like he didn’t deserve to be happy anyway.

After Wendy left him, he started dating you out of selfishness. He was such a prick. He even knew of Kenny’s crush on you and he fucking did it anyway… Just to feel better about himself. He even became envious, believing Kenny would whisk you away, despite the fact that he had no right to be so possessive of you. Looking at how attached you are to each other… His chest ached from it.

It’s not like he actually really liked you like that…

Right?

The thought made him feel nauseous.

You were kind and thoughtful. You tolerated his whining and bitching as well as the godawful ‘dates’ he brought you on that were really just his pitiful efforts to get into your pants… Which he couldn’t even do without chickening out. Truthfully, he was glad you two stopped the last time. If anything had really happened, this would be so much messier.

God, he felt like such a mess.

Surely he’d regret all of this in the morning.

Kyle was sitting at his computer busily working on his schoolwork while Stan lay, sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom, watching the spinning ceiling above him.

“I told you, dude. You just need to focus on yourself for a bit and stop drinking so much.”

“Fuck you, dude. You don’t get it. My life is just… It’s shit. I’m shit. Wendy fuckin’ hates me and now so does [Name].”

While Stan rambled on drunkenly, Kyle rolled his eyes and went back to his homework.

“She was sweet, too. I’m such a fuck-up.”

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

The rest of the night was a blur.

You don’t remember how you got to bed, and you certainly don’t remember the moment when your weeping finally wore you out enough to need to go to sleep.

After a long night of crying, you woke up with swollen eyes and a splitting headache. The mattress underneath you seemed as if it would swallow you whole if you moved, and the blankets that wrapped you were so comfortable and soft that you didn’t want to move in the first place. Unfortunately, it was a Monday morning, and you had to get ready for class.

You pulled yourself out of bed and stomped slowly into the bathroom, where you washed the sleep from your face. When you checked your reflection, you looked quite haggard. There was no amount of makeup that could hide the fact that you had spent the whole night bawling. Sighing, you got ready nevertheless, using concealer to try to hide it as best you could.

“For fuck’s sake…” Mumbling, brushing the knots out of your hair.

Today was a sweatpants and hoodie type of day. You weren’t in the mood to make any effort with your look today. What was the point? There was no longer anybody you needed to impress.

Today also felt like a “Skip breakfast” kind of day. You were certain that if you ate anything, it would come back up immediately, so you didn’t want to take a chance.

The morning stroll to school began as you gathered your books and bag and stepped outside. The chilly air felt refreshing on your cheeks, and you could see little puffs of air form on your exhale. Although the frigid Colorado winter was generally unpleasant, today it was welcomed. It was fantastic to be able to tune out your negative thoughts and instead concentrate only on the chill in the air. You’d be happy if you could just sit outdoors and let freezing air bite your skin forever.

It wasn’t until long that you made it to school. Taking a few steps closer to the entrance, you could make out the four usual boys, causing a commotion.

Eric calling Kyle a Jew.

Kyle calling Eric a fatass.

Stan grumbling about how stupid they were.

Stan…

You paused in your forward motion and looked around the group, your gaze inevitably landing on Stan. He seemed worn out and dishevelled, most likely hungover. When he saw you were staring, you swiftly turned away and entered the building. He called out to you, but you ignored him and kept on. You also heard a muffled call from your closest friend, Kenny.

Ah, fuck.

You totally forgot to check your phone to see whether he had ever responded. Of course, it no longer mattered. Although you knew he meant well, a little part of you was nonetheless disappointed that he hadn’t been there when you needed him. Boys really were the worst.

You walked up to your locker, dumped your things inside, and got out your textbook for the next period. A female standing next to you startled you as you were about to shut the locker door.

A purple beret on jet-black hair.

Wendy Testaburger.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” You clutched your chest as you wheezed.

Giggling a little, she smiled at you. “Sorry, [Name.]” She looked away for a second, then stepped closer to you, meeting your eyes with a worried expression. “Can we talk for a minute? It’s really important.”

“Uh… Yeah, sure. Um, what’s up?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shifted awkwardly. What could Wendy possibly want to talk with you about? Did she already know Stan dumped you? Was she here to tell you they got back together and then laugh in your face?

You gave Wendy your undivided attention as you looked into her eyes.

She exhaled. It was clear that something was bothering her a lot…

“[Name]… Um… Stan. He… He showed up at my place yesterday.”

You felt the static in your ears pick up again, and a rush of nervous energy ran through your body. As you listened to her, you felt a tingling sensation spreading across every part of you.

“He… He was begging me to get back with him.”

The pit of your stomach started to churn, and you could feel your heart pounding against the inside of your chest. Your grip on the textbooks you were holding started to get shaky. Wendy seemed to have noticed, and she put her hand on your arm, presumably in an effort to help settle you down a little. You let her.

“I know you two are together, so I kicked him out. I wanted to text you but.. I don’t have your phone number and all of your socials are private, so I don’t think you got any of the messages I sent.”

“Y-You’re kidding…”

Almost immediately, your hand went to your pocket, and you pulled your phone out of it. You glanced at the roughly thirty missed messages from Kenny, but you quickly dismissed them and opened up Coonstagram instead, going straight to your message requests. Sure enough, there they were.

“I wanted you to know from me first, before word gets out, y’know? Rumors always spread pretty fast here..” Wendy murmured, staring at you as you perused the text messages she had sent.

A little part of you hoped she was exaggerating, attempting to fuck with you… However, you made the decision to go with your gut this time and take her word for it. You noted the time that the messages were sent after giving them a closer look and analyzing them more closely.

4pm.

Stan came over around 5pm.

The wheels in your head turned. He visited Wendy before coming to your house…

Was he going to cheat on you before your date? Did he just feel so guilty about it he dumped you?

He was drunk though… So his mind was probably all messed up…

But he still did it.

Your breathing became harder, and you felt like you were about to cry again. You felt tingles all over, and your stomach wrenched. In retrospect, skipping breakfast was the right call.

That was the last thing going through your mind as you sprinted by Wendy and emptied the contents of your stomach into a trash can not far away, dropping your textbook in the process. Other students gasped and bolted, exclaiming, “Ew!” while you sobbed and vomited.

As you continued to vomit, a kind hand stroked circles on your back and another pulled your hair back. Upon looking up, you saw Wendy. She smiled sadly as you retched again and continued to attempt to calm you down with her touch.

“Oh hamburgers! Is your little buddy going to be okay, Wendy?”

“I think so. Thanks for the concern, Butters.”

While you buried your head in the garbage, you overheard Wendy talking to some of the other students. You forgot how popular she was. To everyone else, her soothing you in this way must appear extremely out of the ordinary.

“Hey Wendy! Oh, ew! Gross! Oh my god! Did you tell her?!”

That sounded like Wendy’s friend, Bebe. Although you had never spoken with her before, you could immediately identify her voice. As you spat out the nauseating vomit taste from your lips, you heard someone else approach.

“Damn, poor girl. You told her, hey?”

Heidi Turner.

You groaned and sat back as you completed the process of purging your stomach. A napkin immediately hit your lips as Wendy knelt down and wiped your face for you.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah… I think so.” You gave Wendy a hesitant nod, still unsure as to why she was being so compassionate towards you. She lifted you up with a kind hand and dusted the dirt from your clothing.

“Good. I’m really sorry, [Name].”

“I mean, it’s not your fault…” you mumbled as you embraced yourself. You cast an eye across at the other two females who had shifted to stand by Wendy. You could feel everyone’s attention on you, which caused you to feel uneasy for a moment.

“Um… Why… Why are you being so nice to me?” You looked down at the ground. “Shouldn’t you hate me or something? For dating Stan?”

Wendy, Bebe, and Heidi all shared a laugh. In that instant, you felt tiny.

“I don’t hate you! If anything, I felt bad for you. I know how Stan is.. I’ve been through it too.” She smiled. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. Stan talked a lot of shit when we broke up.”

“Haha, right?!” Bebe chimed in.

“I wanted to reach out but just kind of figured it wasn’t my place.”

You gazed at Wendy, astounded at how thoughtful she was. You were ecstatic that she was nothing like you had anticipated. Being able to sense genuine concern was wonderful.

“Well, thank you.” Your voice was gentle. “For uh, telling me. Oh, and for holding my hair back.” You and the three girls all laughed. You forced a hesitant “Um” out before grinning dejectedly. “Stan dumped me last night anway, so…”

“Ugh, fucking prick.” Heidi scowled, her arms crossed.

“Girl, you deserve way better anyway.” Bebe moved so her arm was over your shoulder. You felt your cheeks heat up from the closeness; you only ever got this type of attention from Kenny. “We should find you a new man! Or… Woman?” She winked at you, arching an eyebrow in a way that made you flush even more. You stuttered, unable to say anything coherent. Just like your best friend, she was a total flirt.

“Hey, hey…” Wendy interjected, taking your hand in hers and giving you the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen. “Give her some time, you vixen.” She laughed. “Let her get over Stan first. I know it can be a little difficult.” She winked at you with understanding as she pulled you away from Bebe. “How about you sit with us at lunch? We can talk more about it after class.”

“Yeah, Heidi and Wendy can tell you ALL about how to deal with breakups.” Bebe snickered, while the other two gave her dirty looks.

“Sure…” Your voice squeaked as you attempted to smile for the group.

“Perfect! We’ll see you then!” Wendy smiled, squeezed your hand briefly, and then released it. As the three of them walked together to class, they waved goodbye.

You waved back and picked up your book from the floor, where you’d apparently dropped it. You were ready to settle down and go to class when you saw the familiar group of boys making their way into the school.

Eric didn’t direct his attention to you, thank god.

Kyle met your eyes and smiled sadly at you. He was aware of the situation without a doubt.

Stan never looked up from the floor. Your chest felt tight.

Kenny hurried over to you as soon as he could, an expression of worry visible in his eyes.

As he drew nearer, he took off his hood, showing his face and making his anxiety VERY evident. You smiled nervously and waved at him, and he instantly embraced you tightly, forcing your face against his chest. He looked down at you as he drew away while placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You never responded back! Are you okay?!” His voice was frantic.

You couldn’t help but scowl slightly and turn your gaze elsewhere. “I never responded? What about you? You ignored me all night.” You hissed. “You said you’d be there for me. Where were you?”

He froze, his face scrunched up in sadness.

“[Name], Princess, I’m really REALLY sorry. I just got caught up in… some stuff. I didn’t mean’ta ignore you!” Kenny whined and drew you back into his arms, this time encircling your head. He swayed wildly from side to side. “Please don’t hate meee!!”

It was impossible not to giggle at his antics. “Jesus, Kenny. It’s fine. Just… keep your word next time!”

“Oh, of course! I swear! It won’t happen again.” He flashed you a goofy grin before letting go of you and snatching the textbook from your hands. He usually walked you to class, so you figured today wouldn’t be any different. He cleared his throat and looked down at you as the two of you started to walk.

“You never answered me, y’know? Are you doing okay?” He spoke gently and put his hand on the small of your back as you walked together.

“I’m… As okay as I can be.” You spoke, picking your words with care. “Wendy talked with me and I barfed, and now I’m a bit better.”

Kenny paused briefly, bewildered.

“What? Wendy talked with you?”

“Yeah, and then her, Bebe, and Heidi invited me to sit with them at lunch.”

“What? What the fuck? What did she talk to you about?”

You turned your head away from Kenny while chewing your lower lip.

“She told me Stan went to her house… Um… Before he showed up at mine.” You murmured, genuinely wishing that you could simply put this entire incident out of your mind and go on. After a moment, you realised Kenny had come to a full stop. You turned around to face him and… woah. You’d never seen him with that kind of expression on his face. He looked pissed.

“She said she kicked him out… And then he came over and dumped me. S-So…” You trailed off.

Kenny frowned and clenched his fists for a moment before he exhaled deeply, let out a sigh, and walked back beside you.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Ken, no. It’s fine. Okay? Just… Leave it alone.”

Stepping up to your classroom, you took your books from Kenny. “I appreciate the offer, Ken. I really do. But, it’s done now. I’ll get over it… Probably… It’s not a big deal.”

As his hand came down on your head and he began to ruffle your hair, you saw the bitter expression that was on his face.

“Alright… I’ll see you after school, then? I want to hang out.”

“Sure.” You gave him a kind grin, and he gave you one back before leaving for his own class.

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

Holy shit. Kenny felt something beyond infuriated; he couldn’t put it into words. The fact that Stan arrived drunk at your house and dumped you like it was nothing was miserable enough, but the fact that he went to Wendy’s just before he did it was simply cruel. The blond frowned while he pulled his hood back up over his face so that no one could see what expression he was making.

In the classroom, he remained mute as he observed Kyle’s unsuccessful attempts to engage in conversation with Stan. Kenny glared daggers into the back of the raven-haired boy’s head. He would be dead right now if he had lazer vision.

Speaking about death… A pang of guilt welled up within Kenny at the notion. Last night, when he should have been at your side, he was powerless to be there. Instead, however, he had chosen to assume the role of a superhero, and it was during his attempt to foil a theft that he met an untimely end.

That’s right, Kenny McCormick was officially declared deceased late yesterday. However, just like every other time he has died, he was alive and well the following day. This time was no different. As usual, nobody was able to remember the incident. It was a tough existence at times…

He knew he couldn’t explain what happened, so he prepared a lame answer in case you pressed him further. Like, maybe he was with a girl and lost track of time?

Ah, maybe not.

Kenny was aware of how vulnerable you were and didn’t want to hurt you by making some other person appear to be more significant than you: his best friend. It was pretty silly, and maybe a little unhealthy… But he loved that aspect of you.

No matter how flawed you were, he still loved you nonetheless. He wished you could see yourself as he saw you. Perhaps you’d have a new perspective on yourself. Who knows? Maybe you wouldn’t fall hopelessly in love with the very first person who paid you any kind of attention who wasn’t your best friend? Or maybe you wouldn’t settle with alcoholics who only used you to boost their own self-esteem?

Kenny sighed and laid his head on his desk, disinterested in the lecture his instructor was delivering. He couldn’t wait until lunchtime so that he could confront Stan about what happened. Sure, you told him not to… But he was going to, anyway.

Stan was his friend and sometimes friends needed their teeth knocked out.

Notes:

Hopefully you like the small glimpse into Stan's mind!

Both Reader and Stan are incredibly insecure with themselves and I wanted to really show that. Stan is much more likely to actively sabotage the good in his life whereas Reader focuses everything inward.

Let me know what you think! This is definitely the longest chapter I've written.

[peachsayshi]

angst for choso: him along with geto are perfect for pining whether you’re friends or roommates. but I think roommate choso who hates your boyfriend is perfect <3

Choso who hates your boyfriend is everything and more!! but you brought up Geto and this thought instantly crossed my mind.I hope you don't mind me sharing this snack instead, but if you want some more choso food then I’ll happily give you another drabble <3 

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

tags: angst; pining; mention: size kink; mention: satoru gojo 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ your bright voice pierces suguru’s heart. a sharp, deadly hit that makes the muscle bleed. his stomach twists into knots hearing you ramble incessantly while detailing every little anecdote that happened throughout the night. you were giggling between statements, your cheeks rounded and full as that breathtaking smile of yours never left your face. 

the worst part is that you have no idea how much your joy is killing him.  

“...satoru is so cute when he blushes!” 

his chest tightens like you knocked the wind out of him. he nervously shifts his weight from one foot to the next as he tries to maintain some level of composure. he shouldn’t read into what you just said - you have always been bold about your compliments towards others, and he learned over time that they came from an innocent place. 

suguru is your roommate, your friend...but he’s spent the last six months working up the courage to ask you out. you’ve never indicated that you were interested in somebody, and the last person he expected was his best friend. 

he knows your type. 

he is your type. 

tonight withered every any ounce of confidence he carried. this was the first time he’s ever seen you and gojo interact on such a personal level, the first time he’s heard about the late night text messages that you shared, and that satoru was actually the person you’ve been going out with whenever you went shopping. 

he never mentioned his own feelings about you to his best friend because he wanted to confess to you first. 

suguru focuses to ground himself amidst his lightheadedness. he turns on his heel, hastily stalking up to you as he reaches for the plate in your hand. his action catches you off guard, the unexpected interruption prompting you to follow the movement of his fingers as he places the plate on the high shelf of the cupboard. he closes the door, steadying himself with his hand before looking down at you with panicked eyes. 

“do you like him?” he questions, his strong voice hiding the open wound of his vulnerability. 

confusion swirls through your irises. you stutter from his interjection but he doesn’t even care. right now all he needs is the reassurance that this unknown fear won’t come to fruition. 

“l-like him? we’re friends, I don’t understand-” 

suguru musters up every ounce of effort to keep his cool; one finger hooks around the empty loop of your jeans. he’s still holding your gaze, refusing to break away, then slowly fidgets by rubbing the strip of fabric against his thumb and index finger. 

“you know what I’m asking. please, just be honest with me.” 

he’s dreading to hear your answer. there is a softness in his sentence that makes your brows upturn with curiousity. a heaviness surrounds you both, the faint sound of the whistling wind from outside the only thing you can hear and time grows still as you remain frozen in the kitchen. 

“uhm, I honestly never gave it much thought...” you murmur, noticing his eyes widen slightly when you speak. “I think he’s really attractive, and I enjoy spending time with him. he is a nice guy after all...” 

you talk with no emotion, which makes it hard for suguru to read between the lines.

memories flicker across his mind. the quiet nights you both spent together staying in, and the long hours of talking where you dissect every aspect of your life into little morsels that the other can share. he thought about the way you took care of him when he got sick, and the when you both wound up tangled on the sofa after falling asleep during a movie. 

no, please no...he quietly thinks. not him, anybody else but him. 

“...I mean, I wouldn’t say no if he asked me out but...” 

“you know what,” suguru scoffs, creating a healthy amount of space as he backs away, “forget I even asked.” 

“is something wrong? why do you look upset?” you respond with concern, reaching for him but missing the catch of his shirt by an inch. 

“I’m not upset, let’s just call it a night...” he numbly replies, dropping his attention to the floor as he avoids your stare. 

“but, but...there’s still so much left to clean up...” you attempt to reason, flustered by the sudden change in his behavior towards you, and he gives you no answer as he already makes his way over to his bedroom. 

shutting the door behind him, suguru leans his broad back against the frame in defeat. the realization dawns on him as the devastation begins to eat him up from the inside out. 

he doesn’t give up on what he wants. suguru knows he would shamelessly intervene if anybody else tried to win over your affection...but he would never do that to satoru. 

as a matter of fact when it came down to it, suguru would walk away from anything that could potentially wedge itself between their friendship. 

you weren’t supposed to be a complication in that scenario. 

he runs his fingers through his hair with disappointment, cursing himself for allowing the situation to drag for as long it did. 

he didn’t know that you were standing on the other side. clutching the dish towel close to your chest, and clenching your other fist into a tight ball while anxiously contemplating wether or not it would be a good idea to knock on his door. 

[cosmickaz]

Comfort Call

look at me and my emotional support alliterations.

one-shot (655 words)

Pairing: Cody, Reader nature of relationship unclear, Cody just cares about Reader’s wellbeing

Genre: Fluff, Comfort no Hurt. Reader is in a funk and Cody gets them out of it.

The black screen of his datapad felt like a punch in the gut as Cody took off his helmet. It has been entirely too long since his penpal had last responded to his messages, and he knew if they disappeared like this, things were starting to get worse again.

It took a little trial and error but you found a way to break the radio-silence without building pressure.

He checked the status icon next to your name. You were online.

A black screen took over his display once again, yet this one seemed infinitely more hopeful, as it was a sign that you had picked up his call.

“No headphones.” appeared in the little chat-box.

There was a very faint rustling coming from your end of the call and Cody smiled, knowing you’d kept your mic on for his sake.

Then, another message: “Wait,” followed by the sound of your footsteps leaving the room.

Where, at first, he’d been a little confused, even slightly offended by your tendency to just get up and leave after the start of your calls, the explanation you’d offered endeared him to your antics. Not to mention your efforts to prepare for his usual calls beforehand now, even making a little game out of it and sending him obscure ‘getting ready’ messages before pressing the button. ‘one moment, I’m building my house.’, ‘sorry, I’m catching some wifi.’ or ‘gimme a sec, my datapad exploded’.The deviation of your usual routine only emphasized how out of it you had to feel.

Sounds of your reentering the room and placing something on your desk disrupted Cody’s worrying.

“Had to get water,” came your explanation. “And a donut.”

Then, your cam turned on.

Upon seeing your slightly disheveled form, he had to resist the instinct of asking about what troubled you. He learned the hard way that calm nonchalance was the way to go in these situations, and interrogating you would only result in you shutting him out completely. His goal was to get you to stop thinking about Whatever It Is and disrupt your thought spiral, hence the unannounced video call.

“Have you been reading?” He typed back, purposely giving you a chance to fill him in on the details of your day  or ignore the elephant in the room and go on about your favourite hobby.

As usual, you chose the latter. “Yeah, I’m still trying to get through this book. I calculated how many pages I have to read every day so I can get through it before I have to return it.”

Of course you did.

“The collected stories one?”

“Mhm,” you nodded your head while typing, making Cody smile once again. “70 pages for 20 days.”

“And how many pages are you behind now?”

At least he was decent enough to hide his smile behind a hand as he asked this.

You glared at him anyhow.

His smile just got wider.

“~130.”

“That’s almost two days!”

“I AM AWARE!!!!!” You were tempted to turn off your camera so he wouldn’t see you pout. “I went to the garden center yesterday so I didn’t have time. And the first couple stories were suuuuuper boring.”

“But it got better?”

“It did. And it’s interesting because I can see where others have been influenced by these themes and stories so it’s cool to go backwards like this. Makes the other stories more interesting, too.”

As your rambling got more animated, your fingers soon weren’t able to keep up with your thoughts anymore, and the sounds of your frantic typing was replaced by your voice.

It would have been foolish to point it out, but Cody knew that this was the point where you’d successfully gotten out of whatever mood had had a hold on you earlier. And with the mood of the conversation between you entering all-too familiar territory again, he reveled in pride over your shared victory.

[blackthornv]

TWP: my arthurian headcanon pt.1

Ah yes, another ramble of mine. What a treat!

I have this vague memory of cc saying something about the inspiration for TWP a long, long time ago (my memory is also not that great btw). I'm not sure if she'll actually do it anymore but i've been thinking about this since then. So. This is what i would love to see represented in the books with the little knowledge i have of the Matter of Britain.

Warning: i will over simplify the stories. deal with it.

Ash Morgenstern, the heir of the Seelie Court (arguably turned heir of both courts): i would love to see him as a mix of Gawain and Galahad - two knights connected to the Grail, which in this scenario would be the Black Book of the Dead. Galahad is the epitome of perfection - he is blessed with purity, luck and power form the Holy Grail. He defeats his enemies with little to no effort. The "purity" in Ash is (mostly) gone, i think we can all agree on that. He's survived the horrors of the Unseelie Court, of Thule and Sebastian, of Annabelle's instability, and that cost him. But he is the most powerful mortal character cassie has written so far. No. You can argue with the wall on this, the boy can command all living creatures, can inspire fealty with only a look, his strength is antinatural and he has wings. Not just any type of wings, literal fallen angel wings. He might be able to create runes, he has immeasurable power inherited from his mother, he is the strongest character in the shadowhunter universe right now. Period. Anyway, let's continue. Galahad's perfection and unmatched abilities won him a mystical-ethereal-kind-of-holy glow that few have and on that very exclusive list is my boy, Ash. (If you are, indeed, arguing with the wall you are in a worrying state of denial and i hope you get out of it before twp comes out, xo, with love, - v)

Gawain, the nephew of King Arthur (you can already tell who i'll attribute Arthur's story to in the end, right?) who, in his arrogance, stroke a fatal blow in the Grene Knight had a year to prepare himself to receive the same blow from the Grene Knight. Bla bla bla, he had his quest after the year was up, bla bla bla, adventures in the forest, but wait a minute! he hesitated to receive the blow - an action the Grene Knight chastised him for. He survives but comes back to Camelot wearing a green sash as a token of his failure/shame. Okay, so maybe Ash hasn't gone through an arc like Gawain's but come on. He's changed. He went through hell and back with Annabelle, Sebastian, Janus, the Queen, but first and foremost: Arawan (yes, you lovely genius, i'm implying he's the Grene Knight here). A much worse version of the Grene Knight, for sure, but it works in the sense that after suffering the trials (read: tortures) that Arawan inflicted upon him, he returned home (after a long time and more tortures) victorious but somehow defeated. He doesn't trust his mother anymore, feels as though he has lost parts of himself and senses a strain in his relation with Janus. He has been enlightened, knows more of the world and of people, he has gained much - and has lost even more. The innocence is long gone, he has made mistakes and doesn't know how to acknowledge them, how to fix them.

But there is one thing, one last shred of hope glistening in the distance - the girl in the drawing, Drusilla Blackthorn.

[hopetorun]

rambling and navel-gazing about dating stuff under the cut

i went on two dates this month (with the same guy but nonetheless) which means that the track record from my single attempt at going to a speed dating event now currently matches the track record of all my many many attempts of using dating apps (also two dates with the same guy). (i'm not going to surpass it because i'm not going to see the guy again but that's kind of neither here nor there for this.)

anyway everything about Dating and meeting people with the specific intention of Finding Someone to Date is just so weird to me. some of this is obviously lack of familiarity and i have to assume i'll get better, especially the stuff that's like -- figuring out how much i like someone and how i like them and if the feelings i have could be romantic and identifying the traits that give me that oh i could have a crush on you feeling, especially as someone who tends to be more attracted to people i know already. i'm so out of practice at even thinking about my relationships in a romantic way! i've had two major crushes in the last decade!

distinctly related to the previous point, i'm not just doing explicitly dating/singles type stuff, i'm kind of broadly trying to expand my social circle. which rn mostly consists of me trying to find activities to do where i might meet people or make friends. (random classes, volunteering stuff, that kind of thing.) but having this ultimate goal of meeting men to go on dates with to maybe have a relationship with etc blah blah etc even casts that in a weird light. i have spent so much time already scrolling through meetup and eventbrite like okay well this is a thing but is this a thing where i will meet Men?

idk! idk where this is going! it's so weird and i'm so out of practice and there are things i never even considered that i would need to practice! i'm trying to mitigate the success/failure issues by only setting actual goals (i have a goal focused planner i use) that are things entirely within my control to achieve. yk, "i will go to this many things" rather than "i will go on this many dates" but even breaking it down i know the big picture so it's all like ... doing these things towards a specific end but i don't actually have total control over whether that thing happens.

anyway! i'm going to a burrata-making class tomorrow. i hope it's fun! at least i will get to take some cheese home! the worst thing about making an effort to not be single is that it means thinking so much about how i'm single! bleh!

[anto-pops]

hi!!! i love your writing, it’s so beyond beautiful! i just had kind of a weird question - so in Lost and Found sebastian keeps saying he can live without the reader and he wouldn’t be lost without her and whatnot but that he WANTS to be with her - what if the reader was like “well i’m lost without you which means i’ll always love you more than you love me - and i want more than that.” bc i’m kind of the same way, i like the all-consuming type of love (i don’t think it’s a bad thing i’m just intense when it comes to romantic love but i feel bad when others don’t feel the same about me - like they can have a future without me but want one whereas i’m like no i NEED you) so what do you think sebastian would say/feel if the reader wouldn’t want to get back together because she feels like they would be on an uneven playing field because he’s making it clear he doesn’t NEED her but she feels like she needs him and wants to be with someone who feels the same way about her - and that’s not sebastian :((( sorry if this is weird or unhinged i just wanted to know your thoughts!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH !! This is such a compelling question, I had to sit on it for a bit to sift through my thoughts. This got long so I’m sticking it under the cut to preserve the timeline.

The sucker in me wants to believe in that kind of scenario, Sebastian would accept the reader’s rejection (much to his internal dismay) and give her the space they both need immediately after. But at the same time, after everything they’ve been through, it seems counterintuitive to seriously end things.

I find it important to remember Sebastian’s history no matter what I write about; he lost his parents, killed his uncle, and effectively drove Anne away because he took things too far. He had to come back from that over the course of two years (in the timeline for Lost and Found, at least) and in that time he’s come to accept that life goes on. The world won’t stop spinning just because he’s grieving or upset, and it’s because of that he knows he doesn’t “need the reader to live”

That being said, his life post fifth-year has always included her, so he’ll do his best to show her exactly how much she means to him despite the break-up. Her absence is palpable. If it’s a question of whether or not he’ll ‘fight’ for her, he’ll absolutely do it. He would do his best to explain his mentality and way of thinking so that she knew what he’d said when he came back to her never had to do with him loving her less than she loved him. It was him acknowledging what while he could live without yet another person he loved, he didn’t want to.

I have to believe no matter what the outcome of their romantic relationship would be, Sebastian wouldn’t want to cut the reader out of his life permanently, because they mean too much to him for something like that.

TLDR; I think Sebastian might initially accept the reader not wanting to get back together at first, purely because he knows he said fucked up things before walking out and he knows he can’t take those words back. But in the long run, I think Sebastian would pour his heart out to her to try to convince her that even though she thinks he loves her less than she loves him, that isn’t the case in the slightest.

She’s been the one constant in his life since everything went to shit, and without her, he feels lost. Even though biologically he can exist without her beside him, it fucking hurts and it isn’t easy, nor is it something he actually wants to do. So I think he would fight for her at the end of the day. The romance fiend in me believes he wouldn’t accept the break up for long, and maybe with enough effort and pleading, Sebastian could win the reader back. If she still didn’t want to be together after all was said and done, he would begrudgingly accept her word and take time to work his way back into a friendship stance with her. Some kind of relationship with her would be better than nothing in his eyes.

I probably rambled a shit ton here but I never gave the MC rejecting his pleas to get back together much thought. It’s painful to consider actually making him end up alone in his last year of school, but I hope this maybe offered some insight ! If anyone else had any thoughts, feel free to add them :))

Thank you also for enjoying Lost and Found enough to read into it this much, your ask was an absolute treat to receive and think about ! Have a lovely weekend my dear 💕

[mothtarts]

Just wanted to say that you are so real over your post about Cleo and Pearl and their weird ass homo relationship. Their relationship is just weird. I mean that in a good, kind of makes me insane type of way when I look at it from a narrative perspective

Okay. You. Walk with me, walk with me. I truly believe that if we rank duos and groups and yadda yadda based on popularity, Cleo and Pearl’s dynamic is one that is not talked about enough and is definitely underrated. Thats my genuine opinion

I enjoy the angst between Scott and Pearl in DL as much as the next person but I wish theres more discussion and just insane blabbering posts [like me right now] talking about Cleo and Pearl’s dynamic

Cleo became a part of Scott and Pearl’s group in LL, forming the 3Gs. Theyve established a bond, through the heist, the trust that Pearl showed to her fellow teammates to inform them of the rigged boogie [HA] dance room. Pearl is a very loyal person, all of the three are

And it’s this bond, this loyalty and joy over their previous group that Pearl got so excited over possibly teaming up with both Scott and Cleo after turning Martyn away, only to be shocked and hurt over Gatekeep and Gaslight refusing to let Girlboss join. The break up of the 3Gs, the birth of Divorce Duo and the beginning emergence of Scarlet Pearl

Thats something I dont see much acknowledged as well or like you know, be insane over. That while yes, Scott rejected and refused to team up with the person he is soulbounded with, may it be because of pride or just continuously being petty or both. The hurt cut deeper with how Cleo went along with it

The loyalty between Scott and Cleo and their shared disregard and rejection of Pearl are the first thorns to dig within her heart

And it just makes me think. Does Cleo get haunted with the fact that she had a hand in Pearl’s insanity? Do silent apologies in her mind play whenever she is around Pearl, never to be said and the words that do come out only cuts Pearl deeper with how sharp her tongue is? Does Cleo’s heart feel? Does is it ache as they watched Scott wince and grimace and complain over the pain in his shoulders?

[these are just things I think over the headcanons I have, basically feeling each other’s pain not only with the game’s mechanic but in a story sense that even just little things like getting a papercut, accidentally burning yourself while cooking and your soulbond feeling that pain. In this case, I’m referring to my headcanon that Pearl doesnt mind the bite of the snow but it gets to her that shes alone in her tower, in her lonesome with no one to fall back on. Having Tilly helps but only for so long before she cant stand it anymore. So sometimes she cant help but hug herself, try to bring herself comfort but unknowingly digs her nails in through her hoodie, there is pain in her jaw being clenched so tight in an attempt to not let herself be wrecked with sobs only for her to struggle to breathe through her nose because the ball in her throat is making it clogged with the effort shes trying to exert to just not break down from not only losing one friend but two]

So yes does Cleo wonder? Do they think about Pearl alone in her tower? Does she know Pearl does this? No she doesnt. They think that Pearl is probably doing something else that makes Scott also hurt and not get a good night’s sleep. Hahaha you know just thoughts to bring up the angst more

Welp. Anyways this was a lot. I can honestly go on and on about the dynamic and angst and feels between them but I feel embarrassed with how much I already typed. Apologies that you have to be the unfortunate soul to receive this ramble of mine [I’m actually just a lurker and dont really post anything but here have a smidge of my thoughts]

OMGGG FUXK YEA WOAOWOWKWKWKJWWINQOOOOOO WOOOOOOOO YEAA

but like on a more serious note woa anon you fucking put it into words perfectly

a huggeee reason i love the dynamic of this season is because pearl has specifically been targeting cleo, no she is out for blood and it’s so fun. the fact that cleo burns her dog pack, the same kind of pack she had in dl makes me go crazy.

cleo remembers scarlet pearl vividly, more than anyone else since (from what i remember) she got murdured by pearl. she probably got triggered by the dog pack and acted in pure instinct. pearl doesn’t know that tho, she took that personally.

the person that encouraged her soulmate to never trust her again, who made her alone and vulnerable, now coming back to destroy the one lifeline she has in this series??? it’s perfect

cleo has watched pearl through her worst, seen her through her most wretched and evil moments and came out of it stronger, while pearl became a husk of her former self, now longing for the day she becomes a red life and can snap and wreck havoc again.

it’s also not lost on me that cleo has a huge ducking chance of winning, and she’ll prob fight pearl at some point since shell wanna get revenge

[crystallinecardinal]

Hypothermic

There was a time before everything went wrong, back before the Unknowing, where Martin felt the gentle warmth of flame inside him. Nowadays, he wasn’t quite sure if it was still there or not. You get used to your own temperature after a while.

—

Or, in which Martin Blackwood gets tied too heavily to the Lonely, and his body temperature abnormally drops.

AO3 link:

Pairing: Jonathan “Jon” Sims/Martin Blackwood

There was a time before everything went wrong, back before the Unknowing, where Martin felt the gentle warmth of flame inside him. Nowadays, he wasn’t quite sure if it was still there or not. You get used to your own temperature after a while.

Now, he sits in the new office he’s been given, secluded away from anyone in the Archives. It makes his job a bit easier, he’ll admit. It isn’t like anyone comes in and out of his workspace anymore. At least, no one other than the new Head of the Institute. Even then, though, that’s tentative. He only ever really shows up if he needs to tell his assistant something. Luckily, he isn’t here now, so Martin continues to type away at his keyboard as a cup of tea rests on the tabletop.

The work is simple, monotonous. It’s the closest to infinite boredom Martin gets, but at least it’s something to do. Half the time, he doesn’t even realize how deep he’s gotten into the same thing over and over again, to the point everything is a haze, even with the ginger locks of hair that fall over his eyes momentarily obstructing his vision.

Such is the same today, just the same routine. Although, something decides to intrude on his space. A click cuts through the empty air, and Martin momentarily stops his typing.

“Oh, hello,” he greets the sound. He doesn’t need to do much to know what it is, he recognizes the hiss, he wouldn’t ever be able to erase it from his mind. Still, he glances over to a clearer part of his desk, and lo and behold, there’s a tape recorder, already running without anyone ever touching it. They always show up at times like this, and, quite honestly, Martin’s given up trying to resist them.

“There isn’t much to hear right now, I’m afraid,” he rambles off to the tape, before focusing his gaze back on the screen in front of him. “I mean, unless you want to hear just work, but that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

He types out a few more words before he stops again, and picks up the tape recorder. “..Fine. I don’t have a statement on hand, there isn’t really a reason for you to be listening.”

The tape stubbornly continues to run in Martin’s grasp, spooling away. Of course, he muses, it isn’t going to stop that easily. “Okay,” he mutters, half sighing. If only it could be easy to get rid of this thing. Stopping the recorder won’t do anything, though, and he doesn’t think he wants to check the batteries.

So, the old fashioned way it is, then. Martin glances around, and listens to his surroundings. All he hears is the ticking of a clock, and the hiss of the demanding tape. Testing the waters, he calls for Peter, but there’s no sound of familiar static marking his arrival. Still, Martin is alone, the slow tick tick tick filling the room starting to lodge itself in his mind.

“Of course,” Martin remarks, unamused. “You know, I’m not sure why I try at this point, it’s not like anyone’s coming. No one really talks to me anymore in the first place, so I doubt there even would be anyone on their way. I guess that’s my fault, though, isn’t it?”

He laughs, hollowly. “It’s weird. I suddenly get wrapped up in this mess, and can barely find the effort to care. I probably should care about that part, I just—“ Martin sighs, holding his face in his hands. There isn’t a spike of warmth with the first second of contact, just the pressure that comes with the motion. “It’s complicated.”

The tape continues to run, the air hanging empty of any response, any little click to tell him he can get back to what he was doing. Martin glances up at the little object in his hands, and purses his lips. Right. You can’t leave an audience hanging. “You still want more, don’t you? Fine. I’ll say more, but we’re making a deal. I’m not giving you to Jon, or Peter, or anyone. I know it’s probably not a good idea at all, but I’m going to keep you right with me. I really don’t want to have to risk anyone hearing, especially Peter. If he found you—“ He pauses, cutting himself off. “Actually, on second thought, I don’t want to imagine that.”

He does, still, imagine it: the passive aggressive lecture that comes with telling him ‘you’re doing it again, caring too much.’ It isn’t like he wants to. He’d gotten into the habit of it over his life, people-pleasing and thinking far too much about things like these. Even if it’s still there, at least the distance is helping a little. It feels safe, and he’s getting used to it.

“..Anyway,” he begins again, forcing himself out of his internal monologue, “I should probably say something. Just talk, and all. Lay out my thoughts I’ve been having, I guess.”

It’s probably the most he can do, he surmises. As said, still, there’s no one here, and maybe it’ll serve as a good log of things. Or, maybe, he’ll just destroy the tape later. Destroying it sounds good. Even so, he’s starting to understand why Jon used to talk to these things so much. “It’s not like you’ll judge me,” he says, “so I should probably just start from the beginning, shouldn’t I?”

“Things used to be a lot more lively here. And, I know, isn’t that obvious? How could the atmosphere not be dreary after everything we’ve been through? With Jon, Daisy, and Tim appearing to be dead, Peter taking over, all the attacks, and then six months being stuck alone… I guess that’s a rhetorical question. I’m pretty sure all of us know the answer by this point.”

“Working for Peter doesn’t exactly make it better. I mean— It’s okay, I guess? Not entirely bothersome. I never had a problem being alone, it’s a comfort for me. Sometimes the silence feels better than all the noise, and honestly, I’m starting to think that I’d probably take being alone doing work for Peter over sitting in my flat, scared out of my mind over supernatural worms for thirteen days straight.”

He sighs, and slumps over his desk, still holding onto the recorder. “In a way, it does make me miss Jon, though, even with the weird circumstances we were stuck together. Don’t get me wrong, I really don’t want to relive everything with Prentiss. I’m just thinking about those late nights in the Archives.”

An image comes to his mind, the nights he spent staring at the ceiling, familiar loneliness clutching him. At those times, he had usually gone to see Jon, against his better judgment. The Archivist had always been a workaholic, and thus was usually still around, even when it was very late, tending to whatever he hadn’t gotten done throughout the day. Back then, he had only barely allowed Martin to stick around while he continued working, but Martin liked the company, even if it meant sitting in gentle silence.

He quickly pushes the thought away, though. Now, there’s no room for thinking that way, for reminiscencing on the past they lost. Things are different now. “Anyway,” he begins again, “I suppose that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You miss him too. He’s suddenly back, and you keep listening. Feeding? I don’t know. Still. I haven’t seen him in,” he pauses, trying to count the days before giving up, “a long time. However long it’s been since I last had to run from him. I know I’m not supposed to, but I still feel kind of bad about that.”

“I really shouldn’t, but sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind over it. It’s like– get over it, Martin, you have new rules to follow if you’re going to make this work! And most of the time, that’s just fine! I can ignore Melanie’s shouts, I turn away anyone who just wants to talk, and I can pass through the Institute without anyone even noticing me. But when I see him, an entire wave crashes over my head. And that’s both good and bad, because well– One, it means it’s harder to do my job. Two, I can’t breathe, and, in some way, it’s exciting, but I also dread it. Which, thinking about it, that’s probably the most terrifying part of it. They don’t tell you when you sign up for pledging your life to whatever these entities are, especially when pledging your life to Peter’s patron, that even the slightest bit of interaction starts to feel strange. If you’re like me, you start to feel detached from everything. Pushing people away has never been easier. But sometimes, you panic. Sometimes, you want to latch onto that wave of excitement, something you haven’t felt in ages, and other times you don’t want to be anywhere near it, because you don’t want to drown. It burns, and I don’t know how. I just know that things got a lot chillier recently, but I’m starting to like it. If I could stay with Jon, I probably would, I think, at least, but there’s too much in the way of that right now. I barely have the energy to do most things, and I know I can’t stay around him. Not if I want him to live.”

“So,” Martin continues, reaching over to his freshly brewed cup of tea, “I guess I’ll just sink into the fog more, and try not to feel any waves over my head.”

He takes a sip of the beverage, expecting warmth in his throat, but finds it feels like it’s been sitting out on a cool winter morning instead. Martin chokes, coughing until his airways are clear. “Ugh— I swear, I just made this a few minutes ago! It shouldn’t be this cold.”

The mug sits unalarmingly, just its usual faded blue ceramic, but Martin continues to stare at it. Suddenly, he remembers the tape recorder, the soft sound of it still running meeting his ears. “Oh– uhm– sorry. That’s all.”

He quickly stops the tape, falling back into his office chair as the silence returns, only broken by the ever steady ticking of a distant clock. He takes a hold of his cup of tea again, eyeing it suspiciously. Okay, really, it shouldn’t be as cold as it is. It’s not like he made it ages ago, it was just before he came in here to get to work. Still, it feels devoid of warmth in his hands.

Martin opts to just drop the subject. It’s fine! He’ll just make new tea later, or suffer through the cold cup. Probably the latter, he doesn’t feel like getting up, and especially doesn’t feel like potentially running into anyone. Not now. Maybe he would’ve in the past, but he’s far past that.

He sighs. Unknowingly to Martin, his breath comes out like fog that swirls around the room he’s in. It’s not like he noticed it in the first place. As said, you start to get used to your own temperature after a while. So, in the end, he begins his work again, finding no point to do anything else. As for the tape in the recorder: he’d make sure to take it home in his jacket pocket, to deal with it there. It’s not like he’d want anyone listening, after all.

And so, the days continue to pass in the Magnus Institute, tendrils of the Lonely only further rooting themselves in Martin’s mind.

~{☁️}~

Sometimes the fog becomes an indulgence. Martin would know that well, with how heavily his heart became tied to it after so many days playing his game and intentionally isolating himself, so much so that it would transform even his ginger hair into cloudy puffs of fog at the ends. He’d know it well, considering his eyes are clouded, his mind is clouded, and he sees nothing but his failures, nothing but his deepest insecurities.

He’s lost in a vast, open space, where somewhere waves lap at the shore. Where that somewhere is, he doesn’t know. He can’t see it, only faintly hear the sound from some other part of his patron’s domain. Yet, still, he welcomes the silence and solitariness. The fog wraps around him, a gentle embrace, and he drowns in the freeze of Forsaken, barely noticeable to his senses. It’s a type of drowning he welcomes, the type where a voice whispers from deeper in the water, “stay here, stay where you don’t hurt, stay where you won’t be a nuisance ever again, stay, stay, stay.” Martin obliges. Maybe he was always meant to be in this place, alone where no one can hear him. That’s what his mind convinces him of.

But then, there’s Jon.

And then, Martin isn’t alone anymore.

When they finally meet again, in some empty part of the landscape, Jon’s touch feels like fire to his skin, warm, unpredictable, and yet, familiar. Even in the distant state of mind Martin finds himself in, where he barely senses a thing anymore, he finds himself gently leaning into the contact, basking in the way it burns. Maybe, if it burns, then some part of him is still alive behind his clouded blue eyes.

Jon doesn’t stagger or falter in the way he holds Martin’s face in his hands, like he’ll never see him again if he retracts his touch. “Martin, look at me,” the Archivist pleads, staring back at him with desperation in his unnaturally green eyes, “Look at me, and tell me what you see.”

And there it is: that familiar wave crashing over Martin’s mind. The wave that drowns him, and yet he welcomes with open arms.

“I see…” He pauses, his voice quivering as something cuts through the fog in his mind. Maybe it’s the burning, maybe it’s the way he’s shivering in the chill. “I see you, Jon.”

He chuckles softly, the burning singeing his skin, reminding him of life. Martin’s clearing gaze meets that of Jon’s, watery sky blue peering into verdant expanses of green, and a smile creeps its way onto Martin’s lips. “I see you!”

When he collapses into Jon’s embrace, it’s a feeling Martin’s been waiting to lean into for the longest time. The idea that he can let go, that he can feel again. “I was on my own,” he whimpers, tears welling in his eyes as his body is scorched by the heat of another. “I was all on my own.”

“Not anymore,” says the Archivist. When he lets go of Martin, allowing him to stand, it’s all too soon. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry. I know the way.”

When Martin takes Jon’s hand and starts walking with him, it feels like touching flame again. He’s too tired and scared to do anything but go along with it. Maybe if he were more aware, he’d do something. Move his hand away? It burns. It’s unpredictable. But still— it’s Jon. And Jon being here means it’ll be okay, right?

As they walk across the vacant landscape, Martin’s mind stays hazy in the empty spaces. At least it’s clearer than it has been, but that’s not saying it’s completely restored. When you get used to the way the fog holds you, the way your mind falls back on it, it’s hard to sense anything else. Maybe he’s able to see now, able to think for himself, but that doesn’t mean he’ll escape unscathed. He knew that since he started to be tied to this place, and he knows it now, even in the half-haze.

Still, at least he’s going somewhere. And somewhere is better than here, because it means he won’t be tempted to stay. Even now, walking at a pace that feels almost routine, part of the Lonely whispers to his deepest fears: stay here, you can’t hurt him here.

Martin simply hangs his head, and continues walking, counting each step and trembling breath he takes. He doesn’t look up, and tries not to think too hard. Maybe that’ll do. He’ll be outside of the Lonely’s hold soon enough, at least, left to try to make do, and find a way to build a new reality.

And when Jon shivers by Martin’s side, a feeling that travels into their interlocked hands, Martin doesn’t even notice it. It’s cold out here in the fog. That’s all it could be.

~{☁️}~

When they finally make it out, it isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. They never can have a good ending like that, can they? That would be too easy, and in their little horror tragedy, easy is never the answer to these things.

They drive up to a safehouse after it all. Their coworker Daisy’s safehouse, to be exact, all the way up in the Scottish Highlands. There, they can rest, and hide away from prying eyes. They can learn to be human again, if that’s worth anything at this point.

Martin doesn’t exactly think there’s any “being human” anymore, but he won’t say that to Jon. Not when he knows he’s thinking the exact same thing. He doesn’t need supernatural powers to see that, Jon’s gaze straight forward throughout the long and silent car ride as well as his reluctance to mention the terrors following them says it clear enough.

And yet, despite the way they’ve run from the Institute, the fog follows them under the door.

Martin often finds it’s the worst in the nights. It’s always the worst then, but to be fair, Martin’s had his fair share of sleepless nights. Back then, the cycle had even started to become routine. Lay down, try to sleep, find that he can’t sleep, try to sleep again, and then lie awake.

The loneliness would hit hard in those times, and he’d always find himself doing something he’d regret come morning, most notably calling someone in the middle of the night just to hear another person’s voice, or writing a particularly heavy-hearted poem. He still wishes he could make it up to Tim and Sasha for all the times they picked up when he was too scared to call Jon. Not that the Archivist would’ve picked up back then, anyway.

You’d think the problem would be fixed by the fact that he now lives with the man who was always on his mind both those nights and now, but that notion is only half-correct. Rather, those impulses to reach out have been replaced with staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing but apathy and the ambient chill of the night, even when covered in what are supposed to be comforting blankets.

He and Jon have avoided talking about the Lonely these first few days, so they’ve actively found themselves separated. It’s not that they don’t want to talk about it. It’s not that Martin especially doesn’t want to. It’s just that it’s hard. They’ve finally gotten somewhere safe, and Martin’s been finding it increasingly difficult to return to feeling. He looks at Jon, feels like his heart is drowning, and half of him wants to kiss him until he can’t remember his name. The other part of him simply doesn’t have the energy to move, nor make the conversation that stunt would call for. That’s the part of him that keeps winning as of late.

And thus, every night, when the moonlight shines through the windows, Martin only sighs, watching the way his breath briefly appears in the open air. The cold seeps in from outside the cabin into his bones, and he’s left in a haze of remembrance, that of who he is now, and how he still feels as if there’s nothing left in him. Maybe there’s nothing he can do about that. Maybe the Lonely will always have a hold on him. Alas, he stares up again, another night alone. He’ll sleep when it finally takes him.

The first few nights after they eventually address the things they’ve wanted to say for forever, Martin flinches from Jon’s touch. It feels like burning, it feels almost dangerous, and when they’re stuck like this, it means it’s not going anywhere. Still, the Archivist is patient, and lets Martin slowly crawl to him, where it’s warmer. Martin isn’t used to the warmth, after all, not when it’s been noticeably absent from his life. Even his own body has become one with its absence, each tentative touch like ice. But if patience and a rare, yet soft smile is what it takes to comfort Martin, then Jon continues to play the role. Sometimes, Martin’s mind wants to tell him it’s a lie, but he pushes it away. With time, he learns to welcome some of the touch again, as it fades into gentle heat.

Such is the case one morning, yet another day alone together. Before the lit fireplace, Martin sits wrapped in a soft blanket, an attempt to warm himself up. Jon sits with him, taking Martin’s hand into his, resting in a gentle hold. It’s a routine of theirs, an effort to try to keep each other comfortable despite the hunger that comes from separation from their respective entities.

“You’re so cold,” Jon murmurs, half to himself, gently brushing his thumbs over the skin of his partner’s palm. It feels like fire, and Martin flinches, but lets him continue.

“I don’t feel it,” Martin says. “Everything just feels… normal. Except hot or warm things just feel hotter. A side-effect of being tied to the Lonely, I guess?”

Jon hums. “Not anymore,” he says, but Martin can’t bring himself to repeat it. The way his palm is cold to the touch should say enough, and the way the tips of his hair have become an icy white should confirm it. Instead, he moves his hand to bring one of Jon’s own up to his lips, where he places a gentle kiss to the knuckles. The warmth prickles, and he can see the Archivist shiver.

“Maybe someday, I still, uhm– feel the impulses, I suppose. That, and I still know that I’m a bit chilly.”

Jon chuckles. “Yes, I… I know the feeling. And for the record, I don’t mind the cold.”

Martin smiles, one of the few times he’s been able to in the recent days. A thought appears in his mind, and for the first time in a while, he actually lets himself give into the want to let it pour. “If you ever want to know when it started,” he begins, “because I feel you would probably know the timeline a lot better than I know myself, then– uhm– there’s a tape in my bag.” He glances away, softly laughing to himself. “Although, I do talk about you in it, I remember that.”

“I’ll listen,” Jon says, a little too hastily, and Martin can see the way his partner’s eyes spark from brown to unnatural green for a moment. Quickly, realizing his mistake, the Archivist reels himself back in. “My apologies,” he clears his throat, “Yes, I’ll listen. I won’t deny, I’m a little curious–”

“Hungry,” Martin teases, watching in amusement at the way his Archivist quickly shuts up. “It’s okay. I don’t know if you can really do anything to me by listening to that one. It’s not like you’re digging into my head if I’ve actively told you to listen. I’ll be happy after you’ve heard it, though.”

Jon smiles again, one of those little rare ones that are slowly becoming more common for Martin to see. He savors each and every one. For a second, the room feels a little less cold, especially with the way that within a few moments, Martin’s lips tingle with the sudden heat of a gentle kiss, and his Archivist has gone off to find the tape.

For now, Martin muses, he’ll allow himself a little bit of warmth.

~{☁️}~

Even after what should have been peace, the world is ending. Both Jon and Martin know that well. They were its end, after all, and that’s something that’s just made the days worse and worse. But Martin had long since given up mourning a world that never cared for him, and tried to help his Archivist along the way.

Finally, they’re going to leave soon, and venture across whatever’s left of their wasted world, a horror show for them to find a solution to. The cabin isn’t safe anymore, but really, nowhere is. Nowhere but the place at Jon’s side, somewhere Martin has found ever more familiar and comforting.

And so, Martin grows more accustomed to the warmth. He stands now with a smile on his lips, bag slung around his shoulders and a dull jacket over his torso.

“We’ll do this together,” he tells his Archivist, extending a chilled hand out to him. When Jon takes it, pulling himself up, it doesn’t sting Martin anymore. Rather, it feels like sunbeams.

“Right, together,” says his Archivist, and the two face the open door. The sky may be looking back, but Martin Blackwood isn’t lonely anymore. Slowly but surely, the fog and frigidity will turn back to life-giving heat in his blood, starting with today.

Starting with hand in unlovable hand, standing at the end of the world.

[suppuration]

experiencing that "adhd urge to tackle cleaning my bedroom in one whirlwind effort" phenomenon this week

a majority of that effort has been the result of an epiphany that i was getting in "clothing hoarder" territory, with how much i own vs how much i wear. my partner and i split the bedroom 50/50 and i do not exaggerate that a third of my side was packed solid with clothes

it was bad enough that while going through stuff, a solid fourth of it was stuff i had completely forgotten i have, and another fourth of it was stuff i liked enough to buy multiples of so i had a backup when the first one got too worn out (some things, the item was either so cheap and/or i was so in love with them that i had as many as six extra)

i was tired of never having space to even use my side of the room to do more than sleep and use my laptop. of owning a ton of clothes i didn't even necessarily like enough to wear, and a ton more clothes that don't even fit. of owning more crap than i can handle owning

so i formed a rudimentary plan and ran headlong into it. it's been messy, but it's made it lower stress to not have too much structure to my approach beyond a simple "finish one step to completion before moving onto the next." (i would put "simple" in air quotes, but punctuating that would've been awkward. anybody with executive dysfunction can relate to the difficulty of forming and adhering to a granular itinerary)

most of this is rambling, but it might be helpful idk. so far it's looked something like this:

pulling everything out and sorting by like items. putting all duplicates in one bin, and making decisive cuts on which extras i actually need to keep. taking a cursory walk through my definite "yes" pile to see what coords i can make with them

it's made it much gentler for me to have a "yes" bin, a "no definitely not" bin, and a bin for "still thinking about it." (and a fourth bin, but that's the trash can, LOL.) not having to think about it in a black and white "decision now" mentality lets me focus on being brutally honest about whether i love each thing, and whether it's past its prime. yeah i have the skills and tools to repair many types of garment damage, but do i love the item enough to spend the time and effort?

i think the hardest thing has been trying every single thing on to make sure it still fits, and fits in a way i like. it's cruelly hot here. there are some winter things i can barely stand to touch right now, let alone put on my body. i have promised myself that i will revisit the off-season bin when it's on-season... but i did suffer through the fall clothes since that's a majority of my clothing, and it's my favs

having that "maybe" bin has also given me the ability to distance myself from the items and marinate. i looked through my maybes one day later, and found making a concrete yes/no was much easier. like the off-season bin, i have promised myself that i will revisit the "maybes" in six months to see if my feelings on them have changed

which, i cannot emphasize enough. clearly label every bin and bag while you're pruning--and date it!!! that way you'll know the last time you went through that particular bin. i didn't have any lingering receipts or anything to go by, but i know that some of these stored clothes have gone untouched for literally a decade. be kind to yourself and never let yourself say "etc, stuff, or misc" either. if you do that, you will have to open it to know what's in it, every single time. if it's a mixture of things--like scarves, belts, ties--write each thing on it. i also don't recommend a blanket "accessories" label on any "yes" bins for the same reason

it's taken me three days to get this far, and i'm just past halfway going through things i think, but i think i've gotten my clothing possessions down by 30-50% with my first pass over everything

once i have all my definite "no"s culled, i am going to make a second pass over everything in my "yes"es to see if they're all still definitely "yes"es. same with the "maybes." i know i can shrink it all down further, but i need to trim the fat before i can work with the meat, to sound like a butcher for a minute

it's been exhausting and very time consuming, but it's also long overdue and i have multiple spoon-adjacent energy restrictions working against me. sometimes the best self-care you can give yourself is getting rid of what you don't need anymore, so you can appreciate and focus on what you do need and love

(yeah, part of it is me looking for stuff that's in good enough condition to see if i can get a resale shop to take it, money is getting that tight... but god i am drowning in belongings and i cannot stand it anymore nefeysfnstksfnstksfnstksfnstnm)