#but the poem really is spot on for the concept

[ariadne-mouse]

🔮(illusion), 🐛, ⏰, 🔨 for your lovely ask meme !

Hi there! :) I answered ⏰ in another post [here], but here are the others:

🔮 Make up a title on the spot based on the asker's word/theme and briefly describe what the fic would be about.

the gentle charm - Caleb is trapped in a magical illusion or enchantment where his parents are alive, and Essek has to break him out of it. It's painful because Caleb is very happy there and initially doesn't recognize Essek at all.

Title taken from Letitia Elizabeth Landon:

Break not on the gentle charm In which night has bound me, Wherefore, wherefore should I wake To the cold world around me?

🐛What is your longest fic title? And your shortest?

Longest: multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance 

Shortest: A Weird Soup 

🔨 Do you have any working titles you'd like to share that didn't make it to the final posting?

I am discovering in trying to answer this question that I did not retain the draft titles for my finished works and have forgotten most of them 😂 so instead, take the list of possible titles for one of my WIPs, the sequel to multitudinous echoes:

echoes intertwined (original working title)

beneath the reverberant branches (next line from the poem that multitudinous echoes is from, fitting for the fact that it's a sequel)

Essek's Horrible Terrible No-Good Involuntary Vacation

Sometimes, self care is putting something ridiculous in your list of potential titles😌

[ask me something about fic titles!]

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓, 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔? | lyney, neuvillette, wriothesely x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: established relationship, fluffity fluff !! art by @/puna_822 on twitter, edited by me!

⤷ shh!! secret relationships with the fontaine men ₊˚ෆ

— Lyney will keep the secret well, of course. He’s a jack of all trades, and a little bit of misconception is nothing taxing for someone who can trick the eye with just a simple swipe of his hands.

…Though, his personality often brings much more to deal with behind the scenes. His every action is designed as a ruse, trying to draw any and every reaction from you - whether it be making you irritated as can be or practically burning from his smooth words. He’ll at the red on your face with a light smirk gracing his lips. “Embarrassed, now, are we? Mhm, best wipe it off your face though, lest anyone find out~”

Dealing with the magician was a headache. A delightful one, but painful nonetheless. He has a habit of saying whatever he wants, and it doesn’t help that he’s so good at it too. His tongue can twist poems out of thin air, or pickup lines at the drop of a hat. The number of times Lynette had glanced over at you with a concerned gaze was far more than you could count, and it would be only a matter of time before another carefully crafted sentence sent the entire mirage into collapse. The two of you had only decided to keep your relationship private in the first place due to work affairs. It’d just make things more frustrating if people were aware of the connection. In earlier weeks, you had tried to confront the man about the entire predicament, but he had only laughed it off with a shrug of his shoulders and a jesting beam. 

“Oh, don’t tell me that the words I tell you every day still make you so flustered? Archons, you really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you? Although, for you, I suppose I’m no different…” 

When Freminet had eventually voiced his worries, gently holding your hands and saying, “A-Are you okay? Your face is really red, are you sick? Should I walk y-you home?”, there was no other choice but to shake your head, cover your flushed cheeks as best you could with a hand, and tell a blatant lie that there was nothing out of the ordinary.

There most certainly was, and it was the cat-like man who stood off to the side, a sly smirk on his face and one of his eyes closed in a wink. Not helping, Lyney.

When would the day come for you to be the one to make him flustered? Perhaps it was sooner than you thought, on his opening night for the new season. You weren’t sure if he had expected to see you in the crowd, but as he was performing his wonderous tricks, eyes sweeping over the hundreds present, his shimmering lilac eyes locked onto yours. His professional smile stretched a little wider, and as he pulled a dove out of his hat with a flourish of his arms, beamed. The astonished look on your face was something he’d be sure not to forget.

As soon as the lights dim onstage, he hurries off of it, giving Lynette a quick farewell and combing back his unruly hair with his fingers. He spots you standing by the exit, holding… a bouquet of roses in your arms? They were a beautiful sight, yet paled in comparison to how ethereal you looked in the moment, the spotlights afar illuminating your face with a glow and your eyes sparkling with delight. This always happens when the two of you are alone - he’ll switch from verbal affection to physical, and this time is no exception. He sweeps you into his arms, slotting his lips against yours as he pulls you into a deep kiss that leaves you breathless and red. However, this time, the blush dusting your cheeks is not only on your face but his, as he takes the flowers in his arms with a bright smile. 

“For me, love? Come now, I can’t possibly keep how good we are together from everyone else, can I?” ₊˚ෆ

— Neuvillette is… an interesting case. For starters, he’s baffled at the concept of keeping the relationship a secret. Elaborate that you don’t want to ruin his reputation as a perfect, just, and stone-cold judge, and he’ll oblige… reluctantly. He still doesn’t understand - just why can’t he show you how much he loves you in public?

For now, he’ll have to chalk it up as more human affairs that he’s deemed too complicated to figure out. Ground rules have been laid out - no mentioning the relationship, no telling anyone either… not even the melusines, which was a fair case, since they’d be sure to spread the news faster than wildfire. The mortal realm is far more puzzling than it seems, he concludes somberly. An unfamiliar world that was arduous to coexist in. It’ll be alright, though, as long as he can intertwine his fingers with yours and look into your eyes and-

“N- Sir Neuvillette… not here!” You chide quietly, slowly withdrawing your hand from his. His face falls into an instant, brows furrowing. He’ll bite his tongue, for your sake, and remain silent, yet his fingers twitch. Archons, his hands feel so much better when they’re in yours. The man watches with dejected eyes as you whip your head around anxiously, before gesturing for Neuvillette to bend down. He complies, and matches himself to your height, yet immediately pauses any motion as soon as he feels your lips brush against his forehead. You brush a stray lock of his behind his reddened ears, a grin curving on your lips.

“Don’t be too disappointed, okay? I don’t want it to rain on my way back home~” You beam slyly as you lean away, witnessing Neuvillette’s expression undergo several stages - downcast, shocked, flustered… and then a small smile graces his expression.

“I’ll see you when I get home. Don’t wait up for me. The case might run late.” Neuvillette chuckles to himself, straightening his posture as he softly pinches your cheek, laughing at the way you begin to pout. It’s something the melusines told him to do, and he’s glad he listened - your face is soft, and he has to hold himself back from kissing you. He can hear people around the corner, their voices growing closer. “Get home safe.”

“Love?” Whenever the dragon enters home, he’ll call you by the name he’s unable to call you anywhere else - something he loathes with a burning sensation in his chest. “Are you…” His voice fades as he sees you curled up on the couch, eyes closed and chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. Had you tried to stay up for him? Cute. He takes you in his arms and brings you to the bedroom, carefully arranging the pillows and blankets around your sleeping form. You stir in your state, lids slowly fluttering open as you stare at the man above you with drowsy eyes.

“Neuvi?” The use of his nickname makes his heart flutter. It’s utterly incomparable to what you call him at work, “Sir Neuvillette.” Too rigid. You giggle at the sight of him, still half-asleep, and cup his face in your hands. “Welcome home… did I fall asleep? Ah, I’m sorry, I guess I was too tired…?”

The smile on his face won’t leave.

Yes, moments like these allowed him to continue this strange human practice.

He places his hands on yours, reveling in your warmth.

“Sleep, love.” ₊˚ෆ

— Wriothesley’s used to being professional. If he wasn’t, his work would be a lifetime more demanding than it was at the moment - although, perhaps even that’d be easier than keeping himself away from you until watchful eyes are no longer present.

He’s touchy whenever he’s with you. He likes leaning into your figure, even if you’re shorter than him, just to take in the way you embrace him back, but he loves the feeling of your fingers with his even more. It makes him feel… giddy, light, like he could drift away with the slightest breeze.

And that’s an issue. In order for you to remain safe, he’ll have to stay hushed about you being his lover. He’s made enemies, that much is natural. Of course, he’ll comply with your wishes to keep the relationship private. You could tell him to eat dirt and he’d do just that. Things like that are second nature now. Before, he had no trouble lasting weeks, or months in the Fortress of Meropide at once. After all, there was no driving incentive to head back to the city of Fontaine other than greeting the melusines, dropping off official papers, or, his guilty pleasure, ordering bags upon bags of tea from the mainland, so that he’d have more than enough to drink at the fortress. Now that you were here, however, how could he possibly stay away longer than a few days? If your hands in his were what made him float away, your smile brought him back, with a racing heart in his chest and a smile spread across his features. He’d give the world to see your smile, since it was his world. A single laugh from you would cause the background to fade to white, and rouse his heart and face into a flustered mess.

The prisoners notice a difference. Of course, they don’t know who this mysterious person the duke is seeing, but all they know is that they’re certainly working wonders. On miraculous, wondrous days, they'll even catch a glimpse of a smile on his face while he’s sitting at his desk, sifting through paperwork. As time passes, the news only grows more widespread, eventually reaching the ears of the ludex himself. It’s true, there is an apparent change - one that he captures on the duke’s more frequent visits to land. For a while, fables and tales of Wriothelsey’s mysterious lover spread throughout the city from ear to ear in hushed, excited whispers.

He’ll tease you about it, of course, but he’s really just rather intrigued. Has he really changed that much after meeting you? He doesn’t think so, but he wouldn’t put it past himself. “Darling, darling…” He repeats your petname when you don’t immediately react. “Darling, c’mon…” He can feel the pout creeping on his lips.

“Impatient, are we, Wrio?” You sigh as you turn away from your work, and his icy eyes light up in an instant. You stroke your hand through his hair gently, carding your fingers through the soft, dark strands, and you can see the way Wriothelsey simply melts under your touch. “You’ve been seeking me quite often these days, haven’t you?”

Maybe he has changed. Staring up at you with half-lidded eyes and a smile playing on his lips, feeling his ears warm, perhaps that conjecture has been solidified as the truth.

“Is it so wrong to wish for you, darling?”

(a/n) ngl i kinda hate this fanfic. everything about it. everyone seems so ooc and the prompt is barely even mentioned ew ew ew not my best work by far please dont tell me writers block is coming back i hate that big bad scary thing

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

[hopeluna-archived]

These flowers....are for me?

The Obey Me! Characters bringing you flowers

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Satan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff?

A/N: I haven't written for Obey Me! in a while and this randomly popped in my head and I just quickly whipped this up so i'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes😅

Beelzebub, Simeon

M.list

Lucifer

With Lucifer, its become a tradition between both of you. Everyday he shows up at your door with a bouquet of different flowers. Roses being his personal favourite.

He'll also set a charm on the flowers so that they never go brittle. Some of the bouquets are scattered throughout the House of Lamentation in vases.

If he is in a hurry he doesn't add it, but usually he adds little notes with the bouquet containing some small poems or encouragements for you throughout the day.

And if you give him flowers, his heart explodes as he tries to maintain the smile on his face. He'll thank you profusely before kissing the back of your hand and almost running towards his office.

He keeps the flowers that you gave him treasured in either his room or office. So now anytime he has his head stuck in stacks of paperwork, as he glances up to stretch, a smile falls on his face as he spots the flowers you gave him.

And for a minute, all his worries are gone and what is left is a warm feeling blooming in his chest as he thinks of you.

Mammon

It was you who first gifted him flowers on a normal day. Mammon was in his room, counting up his money when you quietly entered his room.

He didn't even notice you come in, too engrossed in his next money making scheme and how he was gonna escape from the witches.

So when you tapped him on the shoulder, he jumped up, startled. Blushing, he demanded why you came in his room.

And when you just smile gently with a "for you, it made me think of you" and hand him some colourful tulips, he thinks he stopped working for a minute there.

Blushing even more and taking the flowers from you, he grumbles to knock before you come here and mumbles a shy thank you under his breath that he hopes you didn't catch.

But you did, and you smile and lean in to peck his cheek which causes him to malfunction more.

And later as Levi is demanding to be payed back, his mind wonders back in circles to that moment, he thinks that maybe life isn't so shitty afterall and Levi's shouting falls deaf to his ears.

Satan

You had convinced Satan to finally take a break from all the mystery novels and try reading romance novels for a change. He of course welcomed your suggestion with an open mind.

He had to admit, those romance novels didn't really amuse him back then but now that he was with you, they manage to tug on his heartstrings.

Satan wasn't obviously foreign to the concept of giving flowers to your partner, its just that he never really felt the adoration for someone like that. Well until you that is.

He knew that you would be delighted by the action and so he set forth to research about your favourite flowers and their symbolic meanings.

After quite a bit of research, he finally managed to trach down the best florist in the Devildom and purchase a bouquet, not too extravagent but heartfelt.

And all that research and running around Devildom was definitely worth it to see the way your eyes lit up when he presented the bouquet to you.

From then on, he would often give you flowers just to see the your bright smile which in turn makes him smile as he realizes that the feeling of never ending wrath in him wasn't for evermore.

'Cause looking at you he felt nothing but love.

─────────────

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!! Do not repost or claim as yours though, its not cool.

[leighsartworks216]

Your Captain

Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Requested by Anon:

"Sweet! Can i request a angst and fluff fic with engineer mark? Where captain overworks themselves, not taking care of themselves at all, marks sees it but doesn't want to bother them too much about it

And eventually they get really sick and collapse infront of mark

With angst prompts #12 and #17 thank youuuu"

12. "You could have died."

17. "No, no, no, you can't close your eyes right now!"

Tbh this fic started as a completely different concept but I think it fit really well with this request so yah

Warnings: loss of identity, mentions of the warp core events, mentions of death, overworking, exhaustion, hurt/comfort, angst

Word Count: 3906

Masterlist

Tag List Form

The realization is slow. Not in the way a predator creeps on an unsuspecting victim. Nor in the way an illness would, slowly taking over your body and mind until you can no longer ignore your decreasing abilities. No. It’s not even noticeable at first. Little hints here and there, indicative of something bigger.

And then it dawned on you. Suddenly. Like a spark igniting a rampant fire.

It happened when you looked up. The sky was different here. Strange. Nothing like Earth’s. There were no constellations - at least not yet. Two moons circled and twirled around the planet. Your new home.

You had neglected to look up since you landed. You couldn’t blame anyone. There was simply too much to do - buildings in need of building, resources to discover and study, maps to draw up of the surrounding area. Not only that, you joined your leads wherever you could.

You assisted Celci as she and her team revived colonists. You welcomed each new citizen with a smile and Welcome to our new planet! All 100,000 of them. Celci told you to take a break, get a nap, eat something. You would argue that everyone deserved to be welcomed, and it helped you get a grasp on just how many carpenters, engineers, scientists, medics, gun hands and others there actually were. She gave you a worried and disapproving side eye, but she couldn’t do anything to stop you.

Gunther worked to set up a perimeter where the first buildings could be set up. You helped to plan out which buildings went where, and exactly where your borders should be laid. And when he started setting up armed droids to keep an eye out for raging wildlife that could threaten your new beginnings? You were all too happy to put yourself to work, hauling the heavy automechanicals to each designated spot. If he made a comment about exerting yourself, you ignored it and kept on working.

Burt, with the lack of necessity for warp-core engineering (the thought made you flinch), helped out in home-building. He acted as foreman, making sure each sheet of metal had its place. As the framework finished, he and his team went in to affix lights and other electronic necessities. A few engineers even took plumbing jobs. (There was, unfortunately, a lack of those sent over from Earth.) Quiet as he was, the only time he pointed out your willingness to dive head first and help build foundations, framework and walls, was in a poetic waxing after a rather large building neared completion. You said it was a beautiful poem, but you didn’t quite understand its meaning. (You did.)

And Mark. Oh, god, Mark. With each new job you threw yourself into, he was always right there, running around like a headless chicken trying to help. If you were building a wall, he was right behind you (sometimes even right next to you, holding the metal in place as you bolted it in), keeping you up to date with the progress of the colony, messages from Earth, and other such things. He worried over you the most out of anyone else.

You couldn’t blame him, honestly. After the… adventure you both went on, you wouldn’t give yourself the time of day to even close your eyes. Once dark settled in, you threw yourself into paperwork and managerial nonsense. You couldn’t stop.

It had been one of these nights when you realized. You just finished talking to Celci, discussing the discoveries being made. The scientists just started working with the security crew to go out on excursions to study the flora and fauna. They just brought back a strange plant that they believed could be medicinal. It was exciting, truly.

But Celci had been short with the discussion. She had her arms crossed the whole time, shutting down branching topics with quick retorts. You need rest, she’d scolded. She shoved a protein bar in your hand and sent you to your tent, with orders not to do any work tomorrow. When you tried to protest, she enacted a rule that stated she - as lead officer for medical - could confine you to your quarters if you were not at your peak health, physical or otherwise. You couldn’t argue with her, and so trudged like a pouting child toward the temporary camp of tents everyone was staying in.

That’s when you looked up. You stopped, staring at the unfamiliar stars, the strange moons that lacked craters. The Invincible could just be seen, hovering in the atmosphere. You were waiting for orders from Earth to know what to do with her. You refused to dismantle the grand spaceship. Most likely, it would continue to remain high above the planet, run by a skeleton crew. Forever up there. Alone.

That is when the realization overcame you.

It was slow. And then it all came crashing down over top of you like a tsunami. A growing sense of guilt filled your chest. Was that it? Guilt. No, maybe it was… loss. Yes. A powerful sense of grief within you, bubbling to the surface.

Maybe it had always been there. You couldn’t rightly tell. But it was powerful. It grew, bubbling like a thick paste within you until it reached your tear ducts and buckled your knees. The ground was warm beneath you, and the sky full of strange new stars blurred into a swirl of watercolors. Maybe this was how Van Gogh saw the world. Through tears.

“Captain?”

Your lip trembled. You couldn’t look at him.

A warm body knelt next to you on the ground. His dark eyes burned into your skin, searching desperately for answers. Why were you crying? Why were you sitting out in the middle of the camp, staring at the sky? When he glanced up, following your gaze, he caught sight of the Invincible. He mentally damned the ship.

Was it because of the ship that you were crying? Far too often to be healthy, he, too, stared up at the ship. He remembered the warp core. The mistakes he made, and the ones he caused.

He had no idea what you saw up there. You never spoke about it. Now he wished he had. He wished he asked. He wished he knew what worlds, what alternate realities, what different timelines you’d witnessed. Maybe then he could understand what was wrong.

“Cap…?”

Your eyes were red now. Your face crinkled with grief and sorrow, fighting back the onslaught of tears. You gasped in a shaky breath. Out came a whisper. He thought, perhaps, you would tell him about the things you’d seen. You witnessed thousands of deaths; he had, too. But that was not what came out of your mouth.

“I don’t remember my name.”

Mark was stunned. Shock and confusion overtook his body. Your name? Well, of course, your name was… It’s…

Confused and frustrated, he remembered the IDs on file for every single crew member. He sifted through so many every day, trying to keep track of who was who. It took a few taps on his wrist pad to pull up your ID. He skimmed it for himself before holding out his arm to show you.

The image was fairly recent, only from a few months ago. But you looked… brighter. Hopeful. Determined. Your hair was a little shorter then, too. The bags under your eyes from rigorous study weren’t as prominent as they were now. You looked like a hollow shell of who you once were.

And, yes, that was your name. Or… was it? Was it really your name after everything that had happened?

No. That was their name.

You shook your head and furiously wiped at the tears on your cheeks. Every crass name, criminal title, and disparaging nickname flooded your mind. No. They didn’t have those titles. They didn’t deserve the hatred and vitriol that followed you through that wormhole. They were not the Captain. And you were not them.

“That’s not my name anymore,” you croaked. You shook your head again. You looked like a child having a breakdown in kindergarten over a broken toy. “That’s- That’s not me anymore.”

Mark couldn’t say he really understood why. The image of you, all crooked grins and academy-fresh confidence, was you. He remembered you gushing to him over flying your first airplane, and going through the rigorous training of outer-space flying. He remembered because it was you who gave him the idea for all those stupid windows. When you gushed over being so close to the night sky you felt you could reach out and pluck Polaris right out of the inky black.

But when he looked from the picture to you? He was reminded of the hardships. How you jumped from universe to universe, wracking up casualties, just to save him. And he started to get it. You went through too much to be even near the same plane of existence as your young, naive self.

“Who am I, Mark?”

When you fell to press your face unceremoniously into his shoulder, he wasted no time wrapping you up in his arms. The ID flickered away as the screen turned off. He tried to hold on tight enough to physically stop you from shaking with your sobs, but it was impossible.

“You’re our Captain.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say. But they were the only words he could find.

Anybody who passed by pretended they didn’t see anything. He hoped, anyway. He couldn’t meet their eyes. All he could do was hold on, as you had done for him once. Your sobs turned into stifled cries, and then only whimpers. He wasn’t concerned at first. In fact, he was a little relieved you were beginning to calm down. Until you became completely limp in his hold.

Even then, he still paused a second, before pulling you back until he could see your face. Had your skin always been so dull?

He shook you slightly. Maybe you were just sleeping, right? Your eyelids didn’t even flutter. Panic shot through his heart.

He shook you again, harder this time. No response.

“Captain?” Another shake, perhaps a little more vigorously than he intended. Your body was a rag doll, flopped in his lap. “No, no, no, you can’t close your eyes right now!”

His mind, scared and jumping to all the worst conclusions, raced to figure out what to do. He laid you on the ground and pressed an ear against your chest.

…

……

Okay. There’s a heartbeat. A little weaker than he thought was normal, but it was there. And your chest was moving, albeit slowly, with each breath. He pulled away. His hands, calloused with years of fiddling with wires and heavy machinery, floundered in the air. He didn’t know what to do.

Desperate cries for help, for Cici, for anyone were ripped from his lungs. He was gasping for air by the time half the camp rushed out to see what the commotion was. He couldn’t catch his breath until you were safe again.

He just needed you to be safe.

-

Word spread about the Captain’s health quickly. Mark couldn’t say he was surprised. Actually, he was sort of embarrassed.

That night - almost a week ago now - Celci had rushed to his side. She was the rational and cool-headed one. She commanded medics to grab a stretcher, to ready an IV, prepare a bed and equipment. All the while he screeched like a banshee, whaling for his old friend.

Uncharacteristically, though, she didn’t say a word about it. Nobody did. (Or, at least, not when he was within earshot.) She grabbed him a chair, some water and snacks, even a blanket. And as he sat by the Captain’s side, a permanent frown etched within his features, she kept him up to date on your condition and on the colony.

He knew his fears were wholly rational. After jumping through wormholes and witnessing first hand what consequences it brought, it was only natural for him to fret over the permanence of life now.

How stupid he’d been. Really. How many times did he grab your hand and jump back into the wormhole? More than he could count on one hand. The way he would be torn apart by a black hole or exploded by a supernova, and still step out of that pod with a giddy little grin, asking, almost begging, the Captain to jump in again. And again. And again.

Vaguely he remembered an airlock.

Neither of you were immortal now. Honestly, he hated immortality. It seems to amazing in theory…

He drags a hand down his face with a sigh. His shoulders are hunched. He leans his elbows against the edge of your bed.

He’s tired. Not like before. This wasn’t an exhaustion fueled by some silly false heroics or nonstop building of a catalyst to all your issues. No. He was exhausted with worry, and fear, and- God, emotions he didn’t even have words for. It all sat heavy in his soul.

Guilt, he decided to call it. But different. Guilt if it was slightly to the left.

Celci told him you just passed out from exhaustion and overworking yourself. Maybe he felt guilty for not picking up on it sooner, or for stopping you before it got so bad. It’s not as if the bags under your eyes were invisible, or that the way you carelessly rushed in to help every single person in need was subtle. He should have noticed.

Maybe then you would remember your name. Or, he thought back to your ID, believe you’re still you.

He wished his mind could shut up, for once.

A distraction. That’s what he needed, yeah.

He dragged his eyes from your face to your monitor. He was never very good with medical stuff. The numbers were odd. Was that blood pressure normal? Too high? Too low? Hell if he knew. Was your heart beating fast enough?

He contemplated for a brief moment the components that went into a monitor like that. The wires, connectors, screws, bolts, etc. And then he remembered this machine was making sure you were still alive. The idea of dismantling it was no longer appealing.

He turned to the IV next. A slow, continuous drip of fluids, hooked up to your arm. Needles always gave him a bad feeling. He felt nauseous looking at it.

Strange flowers caught his attention next. There were no roses or tulips or irises out here. Just… Well, they didn’t have names yet. The exobiologists were working on formulating latin names, genuses, and everything else that came with cataloging different flora. They were still beautiful, he couldn’t deny it. Bright orange petals with neon blue stamens that glowed at night. Razor-leaved stems that started as purple by the bloom and morphed into an odd black hue. They looked poisonous, actually. He was sure they wouldn’t be allowed in here if that was the case.

Paper was becoming a luxury at this point. Not that it mattered much, with everything accessible at the press of a button on their wrists. Still, they thought it would be best to ration out the remaining scraps throughout the colony. And everyone, seemingly unanimously, decided to use the rare material to write get well soon cards.

The little folds of parchment filled every possible surface. With 100,003 people writing get well and thank you, at some point the excess of good will notes had to be tucked away in a bin to be read later. He caught a nurse, once, rotating out the cards.

His frown softened when he thought of the very human way in which they cared about you. How human to utilize a precious resource just to say Thank you, wake up soon. How human to see something beautiful in nature, and to display it tenderly next to you. We found something beautiful, it made us think of you. How very human for those who stopped by, who saw him ever at your side like a steadfast protector, rested a hand on his shoulder or patted him on the back. You are not alone in your pain.

He wished, desperately, that you could be awake to witness the love humanity so freely handed out. Maybe then you could rediscover who you were.

“You look like shit.”

Mark startled awake. When did he fall asleep? Ah, dammit, it was dark outside. He must have been out for hours. He scrubbed at the exhaustion crusting his eyelids shut.

Wait…

His body froze. He was too scared to breathe. His heart was racing.

He couldn’t have heard that. He couldn’t have.

Heart in his throat, he slowly removed his hand from his eye and dragged his eye along your frame, still tucked safely under the blanket. Sure enough, when he finally reached your face, there was a smug grin waiting for him.

And with a jolt, his body came back to life.

You watched, half-amused as Mark threw himself from his chair to press a Call Nurse button on the opposite side of your bed. His eyes were wide and frantic. His hair was a mess. Bags under his eyes carried the weight of the world, tears of relief slipping down his cheeks before he could even think to stop them.

“You’re- You’re awake!” he croaked. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your shoulders. They were trembling.

You tried to reach up to hold onto his shoulder, maybe even his face to feel his concerning amount of stubble, but it felt so heavy. You held onto his forearm instead. “How long-?”

Celci came storming in, looking about as frantic as Mark, but better put together. Once she saw you were conscious, her expression morphed to be somewhere between joy and fury. Uh oh.

“Captain!” The only freedom from her intense stare came when she checked your vitals. Mark backed away so she had plenty of room to do so, but he kept a hand on one of your shoulders. He couldn’t pull himself away just yet. “I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’, but I told you this was going to happen if you kept pushing yourself so hard!”

“What exactly happened?”

The cryonics lead faltered. Mark gave her a pleading look. She realized, for the first time since stepping in here, that he had been- no, was crying. She had never seen him cry before.

Celci sighed and tapped a few things into her wrist pad. “I’m assigning you to bedrest and low-effort work until you decide to put your needs before those of the colony.” She leveled you with a concerned stare. “The colony needs you, Captain. You can’t be everywhere at once, helping with every last fiber of your being, no matter how much you want to. Let the rest of us carry the responsibilities we were sent here to carry.”

Mark turned away to wipe away his tears before she could glare at him next and give him a lecture, too. She huffed, nodded to you with a Captain, and left.

The air was thick. Things unsaid hung around in the air like dust caught in a sunbeam - everywhere you look and hard to ignore.

Mark didn’t look at you as he tried to gather himself together. The motes would continue lingering until he was ready to answer your questions.

Deciding to give him some space (as much as you could while bedridden), you looked to the side. The hordes of cards was utterly overwhelming. Each one was different from the next. Some had Captain written on the front in neat cursive, heavy-handed scrawls, or chicken scratch. Some people did their ‘C’s differently, or slurred their writing together in their plain-text handwriting. Other cards simple said Get well soon! or Feel better! You could see small paragraphs of writing inside the folds.

A rush of warmth flooded your chest. All of the command leads, all of the colonists - everyone thought about you. Maybe the idea of being thought of was just so foreign, but you didn’t think in any earnest capacity that this many people would care. The Leads, sure, you spent so much time with them up on the ship (more than they realized), but the most contact the vast majority of the colonists had with you was the simple welcome you gave them as they were thawed. And yet. Despite it all. Everyone had left a card.

Everyone cared about you.

The warm feeling in your chest turned sour as you remembered your conversation with Mark last night. (Was it last night?) The way the stars glimmered back without a care for you. The way you squeezed that protein bar so tight it became mush in its package. The way Mark held you.

I don’t remember my name.

Who am I, Mark?

You squeezed his arm, as much as you could in your weakened state.

You’re our Captain.

Reddened eyes met yours. His eyes were so dark, but they held a thousand thoughts, emotions, and ideas behind them. You remembered looking into those eyes, as you held onto him, refused to let him go even as he called you hateful names and ripped the crystal from your palm.

“You’ve been asleep for a week.” He sniffed. His hand trembled as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cici said… You were overworking yourself, pushing yourself past your limit just to be there for everybody, and you weren’t taking care of yourself like you should have been and she said-” He swallowed thickly, fighting to speak through the lump in his throat. “You could have died.”

Oh. It had been that bad? You couldn’t recall feeling weak. Though, maybe it was from the endless running you did during the warp core fiasco. How long had you been awake during that endless nightmare? Your body had recovered once the cycle was broken, but your mind…

“I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. His shoulders fell. “I didn’t…” Your voice was quiet, almost too soft to be a whisper. As if you were afraid to say what was on your mind. “When we were in the wormhole, I was so tired. We both were. But it’s like, I don’t even know what it’s like to feel tired anymore, because nothing compares to what happened.”

You looked up at him, like a child seeking approval. In your eyes, he saw universes colliding, supernovas, and someone who never gave up hope. For the briefest hint of a second, he saw that same determined graduate from the ID.

“Does that make sense?”

He nodded without thinking. His hand left your shoulder, following the length of your arm to hold your hand. You didn’t have gloves on. It was… odd. He ignored the calloused scar that brushed against his palm. “I feel the same. I remember building the… it. I didn’t sleep at all, then. And now that I can, it feels… wrong. I’m not tired, but I am. I can’t explain it better than that.”

“I think we both need a nap.”

He huffed. It was nice to see him smile again. “On your orders, Captain.” His grin flickered, eyes darkened. “If you’d like, you can choose a different name. It wouldn’t be too hard to change your ID.”

“No,” you said. You smiled. “You were right, all along.”

“About what?”

“I’m your Captain.”

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester

@your-voice-is-mellifluous

[half-an-hour-hence]

Headcanons For Each Of The Ghosts’s Favourite Thing About Christmas Day

Kitty: Receiving and opening presents, but I also think that she loves to give them to others as well. She gets very happy when someone considers her and has really thought about what she might like, and she loves to see the joy on other people’s faces when they open her presents to them.

Captain: He really enjoys the evenings, after everyone has got over the excitement of the day and there’s a nice lulled atmosphere. The time in between Christmas dinner and watching a movie is the best; he’s got many memories of having wonderful conversations with people during both life and death. Obviously he also thoroughly enjoys the Kings/Queens speech.

Fanny: She likes to go on a walk before opening any presents to admire the day and the changes the season has brought to the grounds of Button House.

Julian: The mere concept of not having to work on Christmas Day was his favourite thing while he was alive. It allowed him to have an excuse as to why he was wasted at 10am. Now he’s not a huge fan of the day, because of the guilt he feels about not being around his family at Christmas.

Robin: Robin loves Christmas movies. Especially Elf. Every year he watches them with the same excitement as he did when he first saw them.

Mary: She loves admiring all of the decorations in the house, especially all of the multicoloured lights. They make her so happy. Sometimes she goes up to the roof to try and spot the twinkle of other lights on houses in the distance.

Humphrey: Humphrey’s favourite thing is the Christmas crackers. He’s always whole during dinner, and he pretends to pull one with Pat. Alison slides the jokes over to where he’s sitting so that he can tell them to everyone. He likes to hear everyone laugh.

Thomas: Aside from the mistletoe, Thomas really enjoys Christmas carols, especially after all the ghosts sang In The Bleak Midwinter with Alison. He practices for weeks before Christmas Day, and then performs a carol (and occasionally a poem, too) after dinner.

Pat: He loves Christmas dinner and the familial feeling that accompanies it. Even though he can’t eat anything anymore, Pat still finds joy in watching Alison and Mike enjoy their meal, and joins in with the conversations the other ghosts are having while sitting around the table. When he was alive, he also loved doing all the stereotypical ‘dad’ stuff that dads do on Christmas - like picking up the wrapping paper and making sure he got every single reaction to opening a present on camera.

Happy Christmas to everyone who celebrates!

[doctortwhohiddles]

Thoroughlystupid has decided to come out of retirement to grace us with yet another exemplary show of her stupidity. And this is really a doozy. Prepare to cry with laughter.

The simplest explanation is the best. Exactly. So what is simpler? That Ben and Sophie are happily married and parents to 3 boys or the convoluted, ever changing narrative coming from the sQeptics butts? As far as piss poor reading comprehension and pretzel twisting goes, Thoroughlystupid is hard to beat with that utter nonsense. There's no zebra. There was never any zebras. It was always a horse. One the sQeptics keep beating even though it's long dead.

Then, her idiotic post continues with this:

The facts are thus: the poem is a popular one at weddings and isn't tied to the date of Kit's conception. There was a christening for all 3 kids. Ben has never said repeatedly said 3 boys. Lazy journalists did, not him. He knows how many kids he has. There's a freaking birth certificate for all 3 of them. The quote about Sophie is taken way out of context. We all know what she meant: no questions about my private life. Social media posts are no indicator of a person private life. Just because he wasn't spotted or that people did and didn't mention it doesn't mean he's in hiding. Add to that the fact that the sQeptics are blocked by almost everyone and you get this epic show of stupidity. It known and common courtesy to not take and post pictures of a stranger's kids. Again, not everyone is as an entitled asshole as the sQeptics. The kids are school aged and in school. Ffs, they sent them to school in the US when Ben was promoting TPoTD.

Nine years. Nine fucking years. That's how long they've been at it. And those are the only arguments they have to convince themselves. If any of what they are saying was true, it would have been in the press. There's no way the British tabloids would sit on a story like this.

So, for the SQeptics lurking: just stop. You know you have zero credible evidence to back your bullshit. You know Ben and Sophie are together. You know they have 3 boys. Those are all well known, documented facts. So stop acting like morons and start living in the real world. It's not has bad as you're making it out to be.

[antimony-medusa]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

I was tagged by @regicidal-optimism

In no particular order:

A World Away (A Step Apart), (14,531 words) my OW superhero/supervillain romance with identity shenanigans, a dystopian world, and in-world supervillain RPF social media posts. This one was so fun to write. I've spent a lot of time on various social medias over the years and I delved into it for the fake discourse, and some of those social media jokes are some of my favourite things I've written. Plus I got to make up two guys that I love, OW is so fun.

A Hundred Things You Have Not Dreamed Of, (27,743 words), a DSMP emduo au in a vaguely superhero au about coming back from dehumanization. This fic was the one where I had to go holy shit I really do keep writing about food as healing I need to start tagging that on my fic, but also I just had a great deal of fun delving into, on the one hand, the hurt/comfort of expecting pain and not getting it, and on the other hand, the actual legitimate joys you can find in the small good things of a life you're choosing to live, even if baldly speaking it's not a great life. Like these guys don't know how to cook, and they live in a shitty apartment, and they have minimum wage food service jobs and don't have internet, but they also have friendship and community and 3 meals a day, and a laptop that can play videos, and that can also be something to appreciate. Plus it was a really fun challenge to take characters who basically don't act like the characters at all, because of trauma, and show them gradually growing into themselves. I still love this one a lot.

three deaths, no burials, one sunrise, (804 words). Oh boy. This one. DSMP, and c!wilbur focused, and second person, and inspired by a richard silken poem and a ursula vernon speech and a post about how wilbur didn't get a grave. At this point I don't even know if that's true canon, but I love this fic for how completely it took over my brain, I sat down and wrote it in one setting. Fuckin' pulled out of me like unspooling rope hand over hand. Having complicated feelings about your death and how it was marked or unmarked by the people around you, and exploring that through video game statistics, is something that can be so personal.

The Totem Of Undying Job, (62,696 words), DSMP, the syndicate heist Las Nevadas. So oh man, this was written in the era of the prison arc and you can probably tell, but I am still proud of how much I went into existing lore for the characterizations, not to mention proud of pulling off a long-fic. I keep thinking of it and going "man I should write more prey duo", or "I should write more tntduo", or "dang, beeduo slaps", or what have you. The first full and complete novel-length thing I had written in almost a decade, and I still think it hangs together, concepted and written entirely just me with myself in a google doc. The way I approach writing is very different nowdays, but I still love this one and I'm proud of pulling it off.

And honestly there's a lot of fics jockeying for this final spot, but I will give it to Soothing Natural Energies by Rebalancing External Wealth, Today, At Rekindled Flames Marriage Therapy Conference, (4,482 words), my origins sneegza marriage fraud shenanigans heist. I wrote this one in 24 hours for an exchange, and I was absolutely digesting my own stomach with anxiety the whole time, but I got it done, and then I posted and people said it was funny! And it had good worldbuilding! They liked it! And I drank some coffee and sat down to read it and went what do you know, I also like this, I think it's funny. Sometimes when I go oh god can I actually write comedy I go back to this one and I remind myself that yes, I can feel out how punchlines work. Also that I should write more origins, it's delightful.

tagging: @chrysalizzm, @imperialkatwala, @creetchure, @lennjamin-o7, @droidofmay

(don't feel obligated, any of you, I was just mentally paging through the people I follow trying to find people who hadn't already been tagged.)

[muffet-appreciation]

Muffet Monday! #1 (Jul 17, 2023)

Thanks again for everyone who voted! I hope this trend can continue for a long time :)

Today I wanted to share something Muffet related that has been going on, but only on Twitter!

Twitter user @ JustLikeAPillo shared some spritesheets showing a beta design for Muffet! Their twitter is currently private so I can't show you the tweet but here are one of the sheets provided.

As you can see, the bottom shows some unused assets. However, just to be clear...

These are totally fake! The spritesheet has been edited from an actually spritesheet by The Herp Derpinator, edited to include the "Beta Design" as if it's real! The person who edited it was quick to admit to it so no issue there :)

If you're curious, there aren't any beta designs for Muffet that have ever been mentioned or shared publically. The only concept art, by Michelle Fus, is pretty much spot on to Muffet's final design.

However! The Twitter community we're very receptive to this new design!

I really like the design! It keeps a lot of the major elements of Muffet in-tact (baking, dresses, eyes and arm patterns, spider) while changing other things to make them distinct! (color palette, body type, dress style)

Due to this, many people have even chosen to headcanon this as a design for Muffet's Mom! I love this idea!

Here are some wonderful art pieces people have shared of this design!

This one, by Kross G is my favorite! It shows Muffet baking with her headcanoned mom! How sweet :)

Nobody has given a name to this design that I know of but I think a wonderful name would be "Patience"! For one, it is believed by some that the poem "Little Miss Muffet" (which Muffet is named after) was written about a young girl named "Patience Muffet" Another thing, the literal meaning of patience related a lot to Preserverance, the meaning behind the Purple Soul motif associated with Muffet!

Thank you very much for joining me on this first Muffet Monday! I am so excited for this series :)

The next Muffet Monday will be August 7th! Feel free to send asks or mssgs with any ideas or questions!

[sprite-periodt]

4, 5, 6, 14, and 17!

Jesus Christ Reddy red. As you wish 💙

4. Opinion on blindfolds/restraints? Why or why not? On the lee side of this restraints have always been iffy for me. Not saying I don’t want the experience! I would really have to trust you to let that happen. As well as be in the mood. I’ve always loved the concept of just being gotten limbs free and either being pinned or being told to keep still because it feels more flustering and fluffy to me. Blindfolds again I’d really have to be in the mood for it and really trust you. However I’m more lenient to blindfolds. Because I absolutely know that if I in fact was, it’s over ////

On the ler side, it’s all up to the lee. I’m not forcing a lee to or not to wear blindfolds and or restraints. If they do I’d be more than happy to oblige. <3

5. A spot that gets you squealing? You’re very mean you know that? <3 /lh

For the longest time I thought I couldn’t squeal actually. All this time from getting brief twords it was always yelps and hillarious sounds.

However,,,, I was proved wrong when a friend blew air into my ear by surprise. It was loud. And another time on my birthday the same friend scribbled the area around my bellybutton which was easy because I was wearing a croptop. (That one was more of a shriek but I digress) And yet another time! They touched my bare knee through my ripped jeans and well that squeal was also loud,,,,,,shut up <3

Other spots yet to be determined

6. How long do you estimate you could last before calling mercy? My body is weird and has different amounts of stamina depending on the task. However while I’m p sure I’d get weak and liquid pretty fast it would probably be awhile before I call for mercy,,,or,,,,,,,,,,whatever <3

14. Pinned on your back, or stomach? Both seem great. My back is p bad so I think being pinned on my stomach and there being open as well as other possible spots while not being able to see where your hands are coming from issbaksjfkwlfkr. Being on my back however, I have to face you. You can see my face, my smile, my raw reactions. If I don’t cover them that is. Also given the fact that my favorite spot that I’m not naming is pretty accessible that way, what do you think I’ll pick? ///

17. Feathers or Paint Brushes? Receiving I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I’ve tried doing it to myself but I have to be precise and it’s harder than just using my own hands. As a ler? Once upon a time I’d say feather. Love seeing lees fall apart to them and would love to make it happen myself one day. However, paintbrushes feel more flustering to me and ig you could call it artist bias <3(Insert a poem about art here) And it’s convenient since I literally own more than I can count huh?

[a30somethingslookatpopculture]

Top 10 Holiday Themed Horror Movies

(In no particular order)

Any holiday goes! With the exception of one, I will be avoiding more than one film from a franchise. Because otherwise, I could just fill this list with Friday The 13th films and call it a day. But the one I am making an expectation for is self explanatory, as it's COMPLETELY different from the rest of the series.

Friday The 13th

Yes, it is holiday themed in name only, but hey, any excuse for me to watch slasher films every F13, i’m in! There’s nothing I can say about this film that I haven’t said a thousand times before. It is my favorite movie of all-time

 My Bloody Valentine (OG)

Hearts ripped out & sent in heart shaped Valentines with fun poems…A killer who emerges on February 14th to kill those who have parties that day? Sign me up! This one required just a little bit of internal debate, because I thoroughly enjoy the remake as well. But I ultimately decided on the original. I am an 80s Slasher movie junkie! That being said, I love the look and feel of this film more. The spx are so fantastic that even the director threw up at the sight of one of them. That’s pretty awesome to me!  I also love the authentic look of the mine (coal mining means a great deal to me). The laundromat scene is probably one of my top favorite horror movie scenes. And shoutout to “The Ballad of Harry Warden” that plays at the end, too! It’s a bop! (Gosh, am I old for using that term? lol)

 Halloween III: Season Of The Witch

To me, this is the ultimate Halloween movie! It captures both the spooky, horror atmosphere as well as the commercialism of the holiday. And a bonus, the masks are modeled after classic Halloween figures.

Halloween 

It’s Halloween, everyone’s entitled to one good scare! Halloween is the better movie, I just have a soft spot in my heart for III. Again, there’s nothing I could say about 1978’s Halloween that hasn’t been said before. It is probably THE holiday movie of all holiday movies.

Gremlins

As much as I love Christmas, most films I wait until December to watch. But Gremlins is one that I can watch at any time of the year, and I'm always down for it. I adore it! It captures the feel of Christmas so perfectly. Snowy landscapes, the decor, caroling Mogwai/Gremlins, kills using Christmas items, Gismo is even given as a Christmas present! 

Black Christmas

This is one of the earliest Slasher movies, starring the great Margot Kidder. It takes the classic killer calling from inside the house trope and makes the most magical time of the year scary. There’s nothing I can say about this one that hasn’t been said before. It’s well worth the watch! 

Silent Night, Deadly Night

Another Christmas one, because how could I not? This time, Santa is our killer. Sort of. It’s very festive and has some gory-good kills! Here’s looking at you, antler scene! 

Leprechaun

The great Warrick Davis is a cunning and witty leprechaun in this one, who kills for his gold. It’s a fun St. Patrick’s Day watch each year that's full of laughs (any of the films really, but especially this one). And hey, we have to thank this movie for jumpstarting Jennifer Aniston’s career! 

Trick 'r Treat

This one tells five separate but interconnected stories on Halloween night. Each spooky, and fun in their own way. But little “Sam”, a supernatural trick or treater, is the real star of the film. He‘s there to enforce the “rules of Halloween” with his candy themed weapons! He’s oddly adorable. 

Happy Death Day

Groundhogs Day…but on your Birthday? What a wonderful idea! Add in being killed over and over again on your special day. What a wild concept. 

Honorable Mention: My Bloody Valentine (Remake), Thankskilling, Valentine, Jack Frost, Krampus, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Jaws - those two totally count in my mind lol

[theartofdreaming1]

For the weird writing asks and sorry I'm on mobile on the train, can't copy the questions right now but:

4, 15, 16, 35 aaaand 40

Sorry <3

4. What's a word that makes you absolutely feral?

Hmh, I don't know if I really have a specific word like that (or at least can't remember on the spot), but I guess the most recent time I felt like I'd go feral over a word was while watching episode 2 of Pushing Daisies, when we see Ned getting dumped at boarding school and his father's saying good-bye and we get this absolutely cutting narration:

"I'll be back," he lied.

I think I've never felt this strongly over the use of such a simple word as 'to lie" before, but this simple phrase (and word) really felt like a punch to the gut, damn.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

No, I can't bring myself to write in books; I once just wrote my name on the very first empty page of a book (I think in pencil, even?) and I have felt absolutely horrible about it ever since (it doesn't help that my handwriting is atrocious). If I want to mark some phrases/passages from a book I'm reading, I write them down on a blank index card (complete with page citation) and put that in the book or I use some tiny sticky-notes 😅

The only exception I've ever made without a guilty conscience was writing the inscription of the ring from LOTR into my edition of Heinrich von Kleist's "Die Verlobung in St. Domingo" ("The Betrothal in Santo Domingo"), which I had to read for school xD

Similarly, I can't even fathom dog-earing any book on purpose! I try to keep my books as pristine as possible, even doing my darndest not to open my unabridged edition of Les Miserablés too widely, lest the spine gets more cracks and becomes even uglier (a very futile endeavour, since it is one of those boring black penguin paperback editions and the book is over a 1000 pages thick and you're inevitably gonna get some cracks in the spine, but I just cannot help myself)

And since I don't like taking baths and don't have a tub in my apartment, I don't read in the bath (I also would be terrified of getting my poor book wet).

But at this point in my life I'm mature enough to take a live-and-let-live stance on these things, so I won't judge people who do this to their books too harshly ;) (I can definitely see the appeal of handwritten margins in books, although the concept of dog-earing a book still makes me wince just thinking of it- but as long as it's not my book, it's fine)

16. What's the weirdest thing you've ever used as a bookmark?

Boy, I'll use anything at hand as a bookmark (although now that I have gotten some of the bookmarks I designed myself printed, I usually have something at hand) and since I'm quite messy, an improvised bookmark can be anything - grocery receipts, return receipts from library books, other books, whole comic book issues, empty envelopes, you name it 😅

35. What's your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

Rules, what are rules? 😉🔨 Honestly, I don't think I consciously follow any rules when I sit down to write my little stories - I just bang my head against the keyboard until the words sound like the story that is lodged somewhere inside my brain;- I once had to take a "Writing" exam in which we had to write a strictly structured 250-300 word pro-contra-essay and it was absolute agony - I like my creative writing to be joyful and free (once it gets past my crippling perfectionism and debilitating procrastination, that is ;)

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

I'm always very fond of Emily Dickinson's "Hope":

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

[eldritchsurveys]

1180.

1. Do you enjoy rhododendrons? >> Sure, they're very pretty.

2. Have you ever met someone who supports Nazism? >> On the internet, yeah. Fortunately not in meatspace where they can actually do something to me. 3. If you’ve ever been to another country, what was the best thing you did there? .

4. Which is your favorite print: Plaid, animal, stripes, spots, other? >> Plaid is the one I dislike the least...

5. Have you ever owned a cell phone for over a year? If so, was it still working well? >> There is no way I would voluntarily get a new phone after less than a year. That is horrifying to me.

6. What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? >> Food poisoning. Also, the sickness that comes with bad menstrual cramps.

7. What do you enjoy more: Fairs or circuses? .

8. Is your favorite animal something you can have as a pet? . 9. Are you good at gardening? >> I am not because I don't practice it.

10. What was the last classic novel you read? Did you enjoy it? >> Hmm... I have no idea. 11. Do you think you would actually read any of the epic poems, such as Beowulf or The Iliad? >> Probably not. 12. Are you the type of person who feels guilty after eating junk food? >> I don’t feel guilty after eating anything. God, what a concept. :/

13. Tell me about a time when you felt like you had no real friends: >> I always feel like that. It might be a side effect of having no fulfilling friendships (aside from Sparrow, I suppose, but the "fulfilling" part is, uh, variable).

14. Have you ever felt betrayed by someone? If so, what did they do to make you feel that way? >> Possibly. I never use this term so I don't have an associated memory handy.

15. Which is better: Xbox 360 or PS3? Or are you someone who doesn’t care? >> I don’t have an opinion.

16. Have you gotten registered to vote yet? >> I am registered.

17. What do you like best about your favorite actor? How about favorite actress? >> Usually what makes an actor a favourite for me is that they do something to me, viscerally. It's something like attraction, I suppose. Certainly as hard to explain.

18. Tell me how you’re feeling in another language: .

19. Would you rather drink water all day or Coca Cola all day? >> Water. I rarely drink Coke in the first place.

20. Name three movies which have a soundtrack you really love: >> Requiem for a Dream, Speak No Evil (2022), Sunshine.

21. Do you think Gatorade tastes refreshing or just gross? >> I don't know, I haven't had Gatorade in years.

22. What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played? .

23. Do either of your parents get angry over small things? . 24. What is the most dramatic TV show that you watch? >> I don't really know how to measure this. I mean, Riverdale is basically a soap opera, so I guess that? 25. Do you still watch VHS tapes? >> I have not watched those since the early aughts. 26. Have you ever visited one of the states that doesn’t have sales tax? Was it a nice change? >> I have not.

27. Have you ever had Dutch Brothers’ coffee? >> I have not.

28. What are your grandparents like? Are they nice or mean? . 29. Do you own any pet fish? What kind of fish are they? .

30. Do you have a turntable and vinyls that you regularly play? >> I do have these things but I don't regularly use them. It's just so much more of a hassle to do so than it is to just play Spotify. Also, I don't think my record player has Bluetooth capability and I usually listen to music through wireless headphones.

31. What is the most irritating thing that a boyfriend or girlfriend has ever done to you? >> I am so easily irritated by people that this is impossible to determine, lol.

32. Have you ever thrown up from being so nervous? What was happening that made you so nervous? >> I have not.

33. Would you rather be uncomfortable but fashionable or comfortable but unfashionable? >> I will always choose to be comfortable, but I don't think that excludes me from being fashionable. It just requires some cleverness.

34. When was the last time you took your pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? . 35. Have you ever known someone who was in an abusive relationship? >> Well, yeah. Unfortunately, that is extremely common.

36. If you smoke/drink/do drugs, do you feel insulted when someone tells you that it’s bad for you? >> If someone tried to tell me that, I would be extremely irritated at best. I am quite capable of evaluating personal risk and making informed decisions, thank you.

37. Do you like skiing or snowboarding? >> I have never done this. 38. Do you find government buildings dreary and uncomfortable? >> Sometimes, but mostly I don't think about them at all.

39. Name the last horror story you read. If you can’t remember any, name the last horror movie you saw. >> A Short Stay in Hell by Steven Peck. It's a novella about a Tower of Babel situation, pretty neat.

40. What happened the last time you were embarrassed? .

[bisexualshakespeare]

In honor of this encouraging 'make a press release for your fanfic' post, I made covers for my Dig Deeper Haven fanfic series! I just finished posting the last chapter and I have so many feeeelings!

I wrote Angels and Animals in 2020, almost immediately after watching the season 4 finale and being so upset that I HAD to find fix it fic for it. I read two or three but none really hit the spot so I decided to take the ideas I had read and combine them in a way that appealed to ME specifically! I have a lot of ideas like this but I knew right away that I was actually going to go through with this one, but I didn't know until after it was done that I would want to continue with a nearly 50k follow up!

Multivocal I wrote over 2 NaNoWriMos, writing about 25k each time. This fic was very loosely outlined, which might not seem like a big deal but I NEVER outlined before this fic. I thought of myself as a full on pantser who never even considered writing an outline and didn't understand the concept. But for this fic I wanted it to read pretty close to the show. After the frustration of the ending of season 4, I reached out to a couple friends and asked if season 5 was better and it was pretty much a resounding no, so this had to be MY season 5 because I loved the show (well, i loved the characters) and I wasn't going to watch any further. I started thinking of it in terms of episodes and trying to keep the monster of the week type format the show had going, and having the same pacing. Eventually I let it go and decided that it was okay to write what I wanted to see over what might actually happen in a real TV show.

Both fics and the series are named after the lines from the poem Black Telephone by Richard Siken which I can only find on this tumblr post as the production company's website seems to be defunct. I saw excerpts from it floating around tumblr for years and when I was in the middle of writing A&A, I was looking for quotes that matched the tone for the title. Actually, I might have even remembered the quote myself? It has the line "I am more than one thing and not all of those things are good" and that has embedded itself into my psyche since I read it, so I think I purposefully went seeking where that quote came from.

I have considered writing a 3rd installment called More Than One Thing, but it's not going to happen just yet. I have other things I want to write and other fandoms to obsess over. Still I really am in love with these fics and so grateful to this fandom for somehow inspiring me in a way I've never been able to harness before. This is the longest fic on my ao3 and the longest story I've written that is actually complete! And all this after already spending so much time on my musical episode fanfic?! Haven really unlocked something in me and I will be chasing that inspiration forever.

Thanks for everyone who read this, everyone who read my fics, and everyone in Haven fandom!

Original lighthouse from unsplash. The other is I found in canva.

[cxffeeink]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ how to break the curve : a guide ♡

--- the matter of breaking your teachers, first ---

( I dedicate this blog entry to my cousin, who is in the 9th grade )

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

My classmates are shocked. They are shocked because right now I am typing away on a laptop instead of working like the rest of them, as they get to spend an entire period doing a seatwork I wish I was able to take. Actually, that is a lie. There is so much to do this week I'm glad that one thing was taken off my schedule because-- truth be told-- I don't think I would have been able to handle one more assessment (we just had two).

♡ •---------• ♡

The very next day, I was exempted from our philosophy quiz, as well. Anyway !! Welcome to the short and quick guide on : how to break the curve !! I know it's been a week since I've last written, but so much has happened I don't even know where to begin--- I've just taken an entrance exam that's going to change the trajectory of my entire future, and last week I was working on so many things left and right. Anyway, let's get on to the guide!

Try not to focus too much on actually breaking the curve. Focus on making a great impression ✩

I feel like something that really contributed to how well I did in regard to my written requirements in school + my favorite subjects ( Philosophy, Values, English ) was the fact that I simply wanted to make a good first impression--- especially when classes had just begun. When it came to my favorite subjects, I asked questions, I spoke. At the end of the first quarter I had asked for good philosophical book recommendations--- next thing I knew I was talking to three other girls and the fact that we were chosen to teach sessions on the feminist philosophy, on the book The Second Sex by De Beauvoire.

Try to excel at what you know you're good at. ✩

For instance, I love writing. I've kept notebooks and pens in my drawers since I was nine and wanted to try journalling for the first time, chronicling every moment of my day and trying to find different ways to portray different things. If you know you do well in sports or debate or arithmetic, try concentrating on your strengths !!

Instead of thinking of exceeding the expectations of others, try to exceed your own. I like thinking I am my own competition. ✩

I like picking apart the things I've worked on before, looking at each and every part of it and wondering how I can do better than I've done before. I don't like thinking I've done my "best," at least in some instances, because it feels as if there's no more room for improvement when there always is. Challenge yourself, but not in a way that's unhealthy !!

Consider what your teachers look for // want to see in the requirements they receive, the standards they set for their students. Then transcend their ideals. ✩ Back in August of last year, when classes were just beginning, I listened to my values teacher explain what he wanted to find in the papers we passed in. He'd said his standards were higher than most, and that he took the time to recheck each and every one of our papers with keen observation, despite there being at least thirty children in each class he taught.

Then I heeded to whatever our philosophy teacher said about our requirements, how he would consider them no matter how lengthy they were or how short they ended up being, so long as they made sense. I weighed the factors, I considered the work I could pass in. I made sure that the first paper I passed in for Values was better than what I usually wrote, the pinnacle of anything I wrote for school--- in Philosophy I did my research, I read through articles on things like optimistic nihilism and the nature of our existence--- concepts like absurdism and phenomenology and all that. I made sure the first homework I passed in--- a poem about a philosophical query we were captivated by--- hit all the right spots, made all the right points.

( long story short, a few days later that same Philosophy teacher sent an email to the class assistant, asking what the heck was wrong with me--- he cried twice reading the poem apparently )

Don't brag / let it get to your head ! Cherish the moment ( e.g. the time I read the aformentioned poem that moved a lot of people to tears in class ) and go with grace. ✩

If there's one thing I tend to think too much about, it's whether other people think I'm full of myself or not. I don't think I'm the best person to ever write in the whole school, but I can't deny the fact that I am someone who loves poetry and loves reading and writing and doing my best for the subjects I really, really like. I also can't deny the work that goes into everything I write, how sometimes it seems to come naturally and other times it just doesn't. I also won't deny the fact that I mess up, too--- maths clearly isn't my best subject, chemistry can be a pain, and sometimes I end up making grammatical errors humiliating enough to send me flying into the stratosphere. I know that there will always be someone else who can do better or who knows better, and that's okay ! I feel like everything I do can always be improved--- I suppose that's one reason why Heraclitus's philosophies stuck with me, considering the fact that the only unchanging thing is change.

The point of this whole post? Focus on your strengths. Be humble. Consider the quality of your work, consider your health--- truth be told, I didn't even mean to break the curve. The second caption of this post, "the matter of breaking your teachers first," has to do with blowing their standards out of proportion and exceeding their expectations after flying above your own. You've got this !! I'm proud of you !!

So here's me, Abby, signing off---

You're doing great, whether or not you've broken the curve. All the best,

Abby *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[countlessrealities]

Tell us about your favorite relationships of your OCs!

Unprompted asks || Always accepting !

I'll make a little list (and try not to write a poem for each of them xD), so it will be tidier!

Mercenary Rick & Vampire Rick ( @mcltiples ) ~ Where to start with these two? Maybe from the fact that, thanks to Rin, not only I got to write this particular OC, but also to develop him and his mentality...and how it shifts when faced with a reality that's much crazier than the one he had only theorised up to one point. I had initially created Mercenary Rick with a specific plotline in mind (which btw I never got to write), but I'm so glad to have had the chance to make him into something more than a character in one story. And I've also discovered that he is much more fun to write than I had thought! His dynamic with Vampire Rick is hilarious and touching at the same time. On one hand, these two appear so very different on the surface and get into tons of misunderstandings, not to mention that they have a few recurring gags that never get old. On the other, however, the truth is that they are more similar than they realise. They could easily understand each other's pain and regrets, maybe even help each other heal...if they weren't so stubborn and emotionally constipated -facepalm-

AR & E-Rick ( @mcltiples again ) ~ Honestly, I had expected these two to butt heads a lot. Instead, not only they became fast friends (despite how AR has embarrassed E-Rick in front of the whole Citadel during their first meeting), but they also ended up dating each other, somehow. They are absolutely adorable (E-Rick especially), and also kind of wholesome. AR tends to lower his masks down a bit around E-Rick and shows a more caring, tender side that's rarely seen under any other circumstances. On the other hand, however, they are both keeping secrets and hiding the darkest sides of themselves from each other. I'm looking forward to see how their relationship will be affected when all that shit comes to the surface. It could either break them up or tie them closer. It's more likely that the second thing will happen, but I'm anticipating plenty of delicious angst before they get there!

SR & E-Rick ( @mcltiples again 2.0) ~ Another very fun dynamic Rick and I developed, always involving her E-Rick, is his friendships with SR. They met through AR (of course) and it turns out that they are so very similar, much more than Rin and I had realised at first. They both have a soft spot for Mortys, they both are extremely diligent when it comes to their job, they both have well defined but flexible morals and they both can be really dramatic. Not to mention how easy to fluster they both are xD Honestly, they are more than friends, or at least are starting to be. I can see them becoming queerplatonic partners down the road. They are very affectionate with each other, verbally and physically, and really emotionally close. They've actually kissed a couple of times and have some sort of attraction thing ongoing, but absolutely no form of romance...and they wouldn't want it any different.

AR & Slick Morty ( @slickmcrty ) ~ One of the core concepts on which I had initially created AR's character is that he absolutely doesn't want to be assigned Morty. His guilt over his Beth's death has led him to alienate everyone in his life, because deep down he is convinced that he will eventually get them killed too. Considering how Mortys tend to be treated by plenty of Ricks and considering how dangerous his job can be, he had always refused to keep the ones who get assigned to him. Enter Slick, the way Ally writes him. He's been through a lot of Rick-related trauma and he has gained this reputation as a jinx because all his previous Ricks have either died or got rid of him after he had almost killed them. AR is his last chance. So, despite his rule, AR keeps him, while he tries to find someone he can paw him off to...but in the end that never happens. They have a very fun dynamic, where AR is pretty much the "cool uncle" or the "prankster older brother". He'll tease Slick and mess with him to the point the poor kid could die of embarrassment, but at the same time he's fiercely protective of him. And he got attached, even if he wouldn't admit it easily. Slick has also started to work on his past traumas and find some self-esteem and happiness, which I find absolutely heart-warming.

SR & Bishop ( @technodromes ) ~ These two are another ship I didn't see coming xD I thought since the start that they would make a great pair of friends, since their work ethics are very much alike, and so is their willingness to break the rules for the right reason (or for the sake of a few, specific people). Also, their lack of social skills makes them naturally comfortable with each other, because they understand each other's difficulties when it comes to this sort of thing. But damn, never I would have thought that they could have so much romantic chemistry! It was a good surprise and, even if Saby and I have just started exploring that side of their relationship, I already love them. They are cute and wholesome and hilarious too. Two grown men (well, fully developed brain in Bishop's case, I guess) and they act like teenagers at their first crush xD I wasn't really planning on giving SR a love interest, 'cause he kinda gave up on that sort of things after his divorce, but I guess Bishop changed both my and his mind.

SR & F-289 Morty ( @shwiftymedley ) ~ This is another work-in-progress dynamic, but I'm already really enjoying it. These two are such an unlikely pair, forced to bond out of necessity, and yet they find out that they can enjoy each other's company a lot. It's a little unsettling at first, especially for SR, because they are very much far from their idea of how a Rick/Morty is supposed to be, but that's also why they find each other's company pleasant. Finding SR a work partner was one of the things I've always wanted to do with him (it's even in his bio) and I think that F-289 could make a great pick for that role!

AR & SR ~ Last but not least, let me talk about a relationship between my two OCs xD Idk if it fits the ask, but AR and SR's friendship is super important for both their characters. SR basically saved AR's life and he is the first person AR has allowed close to him since his Beth's death. Not to mention that he is the only one to know the real extent of AR's mental illness. Similarly, AR is the first person in a long time SR feels like he can be himself with. He might get teased a lot, but he can let loose with his best friend as he has never done before. Their dynamic is really funny because they are opposites in a lot of things (starting from their chosen careers) and their personalities clash a lot too, and yet they are thicker than thieves. Neither can imagine his life without the other by now. Fun fact, I had developed them individually until one day I decided that SR could be the Rick who rescues AR after he arrives on the Citadel...and they have been inseparable since then.

[instruth]

THE OLD CASTLE

I revisit the old castle

all in ruins and rubbles

windowed stained glass shattered

my entire being torn and tattered

The blooming fields had vanished

Solemnly gone, done, over, finished

A land deserted on dry weary plains

no monumental memorials, no grains

all forgotten, lifelessness surmounts

wooden tombstones over the mounts

At the heads of the eerie graves

black crows stand in guard and rave

A drifty walk down the mossy steps

with a sinking feeling of ill concepts

For as I look to the distant shore

I see an endless horizon way afore

undefined, as do my wet misty eyes

My tears trickle, as I look to the sky

recalling the once grand peopled shore

All that bright cheering crowd is no more

I stagger up the bare and naked slope

where I had witnessed the insects eloped

The green fields in dotted spots of white

on grazing activities so heartened to write

imbued with a captivating pleasantry

an enchantment by the delicate tapestry

I look to the slant down at the far end

To my amazement, a grieving to lend

and read the memories of my playmates,

at the headstones with bereaved dates

Beyond, a collapsed etched stone wall

repositioned and shifted to a slanted fall

pale flowers in the wind, sickly butterflies

in retarded pollination, little hope of sly

I lay on the ground looking to a blue sky

with emotions that bring tears to my eyes

It then dawns on me how small I really am

giants surround me no matter where I am

I am nothing, worthless, o heavens glory be

I have nothing, none at all, freely to be me

©Johnny J P Lee

25 May 2023

A Gogyoshiren Poem (40)

Photos Credit J. P. Lee