#i'm calling this self promotion sunday

[areseebee]

now that derry girls season 3 is out and available to the world, if there are any james x erin fans who are thinking, "gee, i really would like to see james and erin get together" or, "i know that james and erin will get together eventually when they're older, but it sure seemed like they were awfully close in that finale," might i interest you in a now-complete fic i wrote called smoke break?

smoke break was born after watching the finale when it originally aired in may because i wanted to reconcile lisa mcgee's vision that it took james and erin a little longer in life to officially get together while also considering how season 3 ended with them seeming to have happy, easy intimacy. it left me wondering - what happened in between all those years? smoke break is my take on an iteration of james and erin before they finally get together when they are 19 and a year into uni.

and see, smoke break even has a very pretty cover, drawn by @derrygirlstrash (and recently liked on twitter by dylan llewellyn/james maguire himself).

and, i'm currently working on a sequel, set when james and erin are 27! it's called someday, and is not yet complete, but is still, i think, a good time.

[mistninja]

Hello!! I'm here to do a little self-promoting!

What you can find on my Substack:

Essays on media I enjoy, like:

Fire, Blood and Nature's Vengeance: thoughts on how George R. R. Martin (A Song of Ice and Fire) and Robin Hobb (Realm of the Elderlings) utilize dragons in their work.

Grief, Fatherhood and Tragedy in AMC's Interview With the Vampire: a look into Louis, Lestat and Claudia, in relation with the main themes of the show.

My Realm of the Elderlings Name Series where I analyze the meaning of some characters' names:

Part 1: "Taker his name was" Characters featured: Shrewd, Constance, Desire, Chade, Verity, Regal, Chivalry, Shine/Shun, Lantern/FitzVigilant and Dutiful.

Part 2: "Sacrifice of her people" Characters featured: Kettricken, Patience, Molly and Elliania.

Part 3: "The Pariah of Bingtown" Character featured: the Liveship Paragon.

Part 4: "A bastard's bastard" Characters featured: Nettle, Hap and Bee.

Part 5: "I called him Beloved" Character featured: Beloved (the Fool, Amber, Lord Golden, etc.).

Part 6: "What do they call you, boy?" Character featured: FitzChivalry.

Reviews:

Manga and comics, like The Summer Hikaru Died and Hellboy.

Books, like Mary Shelley's The Last Man, Sir Terry Pratchett's Equal Rites, and more.

Shows, both live action like The Fall of the House of Usher and House of the Dragon (season 2) COMING OUT THIS SUNDAY, and anime like Tokyo Revengers (season 3) and Jujutsu Kaisen (season 2).

Each month, I post short reviews of everything I read and watch.

My Shadowhunters Explained Series, where I explain the plot of each book in Cassandra Clare's YA universe, and the complicated relationships that she comes up with:

Part 1: City of Bones.

Part 2: City of Ashes.

Part 3: City of Glass.

If you are interested in any of this, consider subscribing! And if you want to support me doing this, there's the option to become a paid subscriber for just $5. Starting next month, I'm planning to include paid-only posts on the schedule, but free subscribers are still going to get regular posts every Sunday.

[fruitviking]

It's a random Sunday in March and I've decided it's

Shameless Self Promotion Time

So I have this fic called 'Dubious and Questionable Memory'. It's based on the idea of the post-Reichenbach hiatus happening because Holmes lost his memory and had no idea who he was, only that someone was hunting him. When he returns to London in 1894 and bumps into Watson...well. Go read and find out 😅

I'm super proud of this one and just felt like sharing. If you do read it, I really hope you like it! 💜

[ohtobeleah]

not sure if you're still taking concepts but i'm feral for some mickey smut. mickey picks you up from brunch with the girls and you're foaming at the mouth at how good he looks in his sunday athleisure. #StrictlyScandlous

Eeep okay so I was having a little brain malfunction today and I really wanted to write but I didn’t inherently feel like writing for any of the stories I have going on so I thought I’d just do like a strictly scandalous concept that was left over from the last round. I was in my Mickey mood. 

Enjoy: warnings: sexually explicit content ahead.

Mickey Garcia was a simple man, he didn’t need a lot of things in life to make him happy. He loved his family, hell without his family Mickey wasn’t exactly sure who’d he’d even be. He loved his friends, especially his Dagger Squadron—although Mickey had lived in many houses and seen a lot of places across the continental United States, he never truly felt like he was home until he found himself in North Island. 

Living up to the reputation and expectations bestowed upon him, Mickey loved a good Fanboy moment. He loved his Star Trek and his Star Wars and his Battlestar Galactica, hell he even dabbled with the Gilmore Girls which was a sharp left hand turn to what his usual self indulgent fiction was. 

But if there was someone who Mickey Fanboy Garcia loved more than anything or anyone else on the entire planet—it was you. He was your biggest fan. You were without a shadow of a doubt the love of Mickey's life and if the wedding ring that wrapped around his ring finger didn’t show a glimmer of the amount of love that coursed through Mickey's veins, then he had a real problem on his hands. Because the day you began Mrs Fanboy Garcia was the happiest day of Mickey's life. 

“Mickey!!” You bellowed from the top of the steps of the Hard Deck. “Guys! Mickeys here! I gotta go!” You’d been out celebrating Phoenix and her promotion with some of the girls. You weren’t a pilot, hell you weren’t even in the damn Navy, but it was cool that they’d always treated you like one of the guys and not just a spouse on the side. 

Mickey waited by the hood of his 2005 Honda CRV he was determined to run into the fucking ground before he upgraded, he’d gotten it second hand from a guy in Arizona and was determined to get his money’s worth. 

“Oh my god, babe? You good?” Mickey chuckled as a grin crept across his smitten face. “Here I’ll help—“ With a pep in his step and a quick jog to your side, Mickey was guiding you and you, your very drunk self—back to the car with a hand pressed to the small of your back and another one set in your open palm. “Mrs Garcia, you smell like a distillery.” 

“Uh, the girls introduced me to something very seductive yet fickle, a fair-weathered friend who seems friendly and benign at first but packs a wallop like a donkey kick and that is the Long Island Iced Tea.” Mickey looked far too good for you to not feel yourself getting a little slick in your panties, his hair had grown out, sweaty curls clung to the nap of his neck from under the baseball cap he wore backwards. Black on black shorts, and T had you feeling all kinds of ways. 

“Oh no—how many did you have?” Mickey laughed to himself when you lost your footing and he had to help steady you on the short walk back to the car. 

“I guess I didn’t mention the fact it was a bottom brunch did I?” Mickey lost all control of himself when he couldn’t hold back his laugh. “We never did find the bottom—“ You added, pouting your bottom lip out as you leaned against the car, waiting for your beautiful husband to open it for you once he’d finished laughing about the hangover he knew you were going to have tomorrow. “Where were you when I called?” 

In your time consuming every conceivable drop of alcohol that had been placed before you, the fact Mickey had been out hiking the trails around base with none other than Robert Floyd. He’d only just gotten back to his car when you called, tapping out of bottomless brunch. If you kept searching for the bottom the only thing you were going to find was the emergency department of Miramar Base Hospital. 

“I was out hiking with Bob–” Mickey cooed, Guiding you into the passenger seat. “Here watch your head.” It wasn't that Mickey thought you were incompetent, it was just he knew by the way you could barely keep yourself upright in the passenger seat that you had had far too much alcohol. He wanted to take care of you the best he could, keep you safe. Leaning over you and into the car, Mickey strapped you in. 

“Mmm you smell good.” Again, Mickey couldn't help but to laugh softly. He was a sweaty mess from running around in the sun with Bob. “Really good.” As Mickey clipped in your seatbelt, you leaned forward to kiss his exposed neck, sending a titlewave of goosebumps across his tan skin. “Taste good too–” 

“Minx.” Was all Mickey mumbled as he turned his head to kiss your lips, tasting the familiar but hangover inducing flavours of the Long Island Iced Tea. “Let's get you home huh?” 

“You look really good in that little athleisure moment, Lieutenant.” You knew your words were affecting your husband by the way he was fighting the hume that every so desperately wanted to take over the apples of his cheeks as he slid out of the car and shut the door behind him. 

“Lord give me strength–” He whispered to the heavens above as he walked around to the driver's side, it wouldn't be morally appropriate to give into your seductive ways when you'd had consumed enough alcohol to sedate an elephant or Hangman on an empty stomach at best. 

It was the longest car ride home ever for Mickey as he sat there and listened to you try and seduce him, his cock throbbed against his boxer briefs and left nothing to the imagination through the thin layer of material his shorts were made of. 

“Relly wanna fuck you in the back seat Mickey baby, dont you wanna fuck me?” Oh god yes he did. So much. 

“I love you, but you've had a little too much to drink baby, I don't wanna take advantage of you like this.” The gentleman as always, but you were feral. It was either a new callonge that had sent you into heat or it was Mickey's androstenone which realistically, was a naturally derived cologne that made you want to fuck his brains out. 

“Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?” You smirked, slowly taking your top off over your head as Mickey tried his best to focus on the road ahead. You were his fucking wife, the love of his life, his best friend. Mickey Garcia had seen your tits a million times before and he knew he’d see them a million times more, but every time you exposed them to him, he was mesmerised. Captivated by the trance your tits put him in. “You wanna touch me baby?” 

“So badly honey, but I gotta focus on the road, get you home safe.” Fuck this was pure torture and what made it worse was that Mickey knew that you knew he was a puddle of a man in your seductive hands. So when you took your bra off and flung it into the back seat, he knew you were up to no good when he felt your hand snake around his and guide it from the steering wheel to your chest. “Y/n–” 

“Touch me Lieutenant I’m so fucking wet.” 

“Babe!” Mickey couldn't help but to blush, he could feel the heat rising in his cheek and the blood throbbing in his length but he still did as he was told and squeezed your tit in the palm of his hand, as you held his hand there. “I'm trying to drive!” 

“And I’m trying to get you to fuck me because you look like an adonis right now!” As you giggled and bit down on your bottom lip, you slowly let go of Mickey's hand, revelling in the fact he kept his hand there. “You should pull over up ahead.” 

“We’re almost home?” Mickey frowned in confusion as you brought your hand up to cup over your mouth. “You okay?” 

“I need to puke–” You gagged, Mickey's eyes shot out of his head as he was pulling over, watching as you unbuckled your seatbelt and instead of climbing out of the car, climb into the back seat. 

“Y/n oh my god! I thought you were being serious! We’re five minutes from home!” Mickey groaned, not entirely sure how to navigate the situation playing out. But was he angry? No, this was the hottest thing ever. 

“You have two options here Flyboy, either get your ass back here and fuck me or sit there and watch me get myself off, but either way–I’m not leaving this car until ive had an orgasm.” Mickey paused, he knew he shouldn't when you'd had so much to drink, but then again, the roles had been revered on a number of occasions and you'd captured to his every request. Tossing up the options he’d been given, Mickey shut the engine off and made quick work following you into the back seat, climbing over the centre console to get there.

“You make me a weak fucking man baby.” Mickey mumbled as he took your lips hostage, loving how you giggled into his mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “A sinner if there ever was one.” 

“Fuck me good fuck me well flyboy.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~

Strictly Scandalous Mickey Fanboy Garcia

[moonshine-nightlight]

2024 Writing - Plans

similar to last year, i wanted to post a little look forward at my plans for writing this year are. the necessary disclaimer: this is 100% high level, optimistic, ideal situation and subject to change but i still like thinking about it and posting for anyone who's interested. see this post for last years!

so, i like separating things out it mini goals/sections so see below:

Nothing's Wrong with Dale: with DSM self-published under my belt, I'd like to focus on the NWWD publishing journey next! The main obstacles/costs are time and money. Hiring an editor and a cover artist are the pricey-est part of the process but my own edit (first to convert everything from 2nd POV to 3rd POV and then another high-level edit/revise once i've got it in the right POV) will take the most time and needs to be done before i hand it over to an editor. Then after the editor takes their time (and NWWD is much longer than DSM), and finally i need to process all of their edits as well. And i need to do all of this while i do my day job lol.

i've already converted the first 11 chapters to 3rd POV (i hav some IRL friends/betas who only read that version, so if u feel like the tumblr version took a lot of time lol). the timing of being able to publish this year will all end up depending on how quickly i can do all that and kick off the part of the process that depends on outside parties. Even if i manage to self-publish in this year, i don't expect it to come out until lik December and even that's ideal, super best case scenario.

Long Stories: I want to outline both A Perfectly Ordinary Research Position and Shadow Diplomacy and then pick one to be the new long story on here. I do what i call a chapter outline and a scene outline, which is confusing to not!me because the scene = a chapter on here. i should probably rename that process lol. (NWWD was 11 'chapters' and 35 'scenes' for reference).

once i pick a project, i just hope to post as many chapters as i can. Since this will be new, long, and likely just building steam, i actually think it'll be my lower priority after the Short Stories and NWWD publishing, but we'll see. i'd like to start putting that up in June, according to my tentative 2024 schedule.

Short Stories: Since i didn't get as many of these done in 2023 and they've been haunting my brain longer, i want to for sure get some of these shorter stories done. learning from last years overestimation lol, i plan to post 3 short stories: Courtship Confusion, Feral, and finish Free Piano: Haunted, in that order. i'm excited about all these stories and will let me cover 3 different types of pairings (although technically all are Reader) which is fun. All have been outlined and have parts and pieces written. I wish Feral and FPH could both happen in the fall but the timing just doesnt work out so summers gonna b a little spooky lol.

The schedule i worked out makes it so all this will be possible, but also basically has no breaks in sunday postings after my haitus which is beyond optimistic but i lik to start overly confident lol

Hiatus: this is also your reminder that my work has a specific Busy Season which honestly started already (lucky me) and i will b beyond busy Jan-March at a minimum. i hav more projects than ever with my promotion, a lot to learn, and a lot to juggle so minimum 6 day work weeks will be the name of the game - but hopefully all goes well and i'll get a nice bonus i can feed directly to my editors lol

anyway, that's where i'm at right now and I'm looking forward to all the exciting writing and publishing to come in 2024!

Feel free to send in any asks about upcoming/current stories!

Thanks again for all your support in 2023 and Happy New Year!

[catdadacd]

sentences sunday

or maybe I should call it shameless self-promotion sunday since chapter 1 is out tomorrow!!! look out for the post :)

thank you for the tag @firstprincehornyramblings

"In the spirit of a true cat owner - no judgment here. I'm often mocked for naming my dog David," Henry soothes. "As you should be, what kind of a name is that for a dog!?" Alex asks, his voice high in not-so-faux outrage.  "After Bowie, but we're getting off topic. What did you name your cat?" Alex wants to ask why he didn’t just name the dog Bowie, a much more interesting and on-the-nose name for a dog. David makes the poor little guy sound like a grandfather.  "I'm a lawyer, so his name is Davit, as in Affidavit." "And you had the nerve to mock me!" Alex’s mock outrage is returned to him in kind.  "Yeah yeah,” he sighs. “I told you it was dumb, can we get back to fixing my cat?" 

And in case y'all forgot, there's art for it too!! A banner that you'll see tomorrow and the commission below the cut by @gayhoediaz <3

[destinyc1020]

Hey Destiny, I don't know if you are still going to do confessional Sundays, but I have one, but I know ppl aren't going to like it.

1. I feel some tomdayas do too much with timdayas. I'm aware this is very unpopular, but let me explain. I'm not a timdaya, but I was a Timothee stan before I was a Tomdaya stan, so my perspective may be different. I feel Tomdayas need to accept that tindayas are going to exist and to stop giving them so much attention. This is not the first time both Tim and Z in their careers, are going to play with love interests that don't reflect their personal life(Timothee with Taylor in Bones and all whilst dating Kylie and Zendaya with Hunter and Mike and Josh while being with Tom).

Back in the day, actors had so much variety in their roles that had Z or Timothee been this age in the 90s, they would have been in 100 romcoms by now and ppl would be shipping them with their costars. It's not a reflection in real life. The insecurity projected unto Z is so weird because this same insecurity is never placed on Tom, and he had a makeout scene in TCR. No one thought he was dating his costar. It's obvious some Tomdayas are insecure, and tbh it's silly cause if you truly are a fan of both of them, you would know that the insecurity comes from film twitter and is not reflection in real life. Tom and Z love each other so much and have priotised so much being together. Only idiots think Timothee is a threat, lol. I also blame the lack of media literacy in this current generation. They see opinionated posts online and assume they are true, like aunties and uncles on Facebook, lol.

Timothee, respectfully, is a good actor but uses pr to benefit his films just like most actors. I saw some Tomdayas annoyed that he gifted Z wonka special edition shoes, assuming that he is trying to get with Z and is jealous of Tom. Are we bffr rn???? They are friends, nothing more, lol.

It seems you guys were not here last year for Bones and all promotion in Venice when Timothee and Taylor were PRing like their lives depended on it. Red carpet moments, TNT posts, and overall flirtatious interviews. At the time, I really thought they had something going on because i was gullibe and was happy. timothee was giving a black woman attention, lol. It was a self-fulfilling prophercy until, after the promotion of the film, when I saw them not liking each others posts, Taylor only praised Luca or did not hang out even when they were in the same city. It was then I realised it was just a job for them, lol. Its the same with Glen and Sydney doing the most to sell a film because its their job, lol.

I've been a fan of Timothee the longest, and most of his dating history happens offcamera than on until he started dating Kylie. I'm aware he dated Eiza and Lily, but when they dated, he barely spoke about them ever. Even when Lily and him had the King, they didn't stand next to each other on the red carpet, lol. Whether you like the pairing or not, this is who he wants to be with, and it's not Z, lol. Tom isn't insecure about Timothee at all. Timothee called him the rizz master for a reason. If anything, it's the other way round lol but that's for another discussion.

Paul and Chani's romance is going to be like the star was for our generation. Certain fans need to let go of this hypothetical insecurity that what's on screen is gonna be translated in real life. There's a reason why they didn't touch each other during the red carpet because both sides do too much.

There's also a consequence playing up to the romance of your titular characters in real life, Corey and India were close in the beginning of the pr of Queen Charlotte and towards the end in Brazil they bareley acknowledged because fans did too much and so did they lol.

The only way actors can do "showmances" is very early in theory careers as they don't have an established fanbase. In the new hunger games films, Tom blyth and Rachel Zegler have great chemistry, but they both have partners in real life, and so there's a line they don't cross and are still very popular. There are fans who want them together, but that's a loud minority.

Timothee and Z are well established in their careers, and it wouldn't make sense to do that.

Hopefully, I made sense, and you have a nice day!!

😳😳

Wow... this was a LOT Anon lol....

I'll try to answer your confession as succinctly as I can lol 😆

Hey Destiny, I don't know if you are still going to do confessional Sundays, but I have one, but I know ppl aren't going to like it.

Actually, yes! 75% of you said that you wanted to keep doing Confession Corner Sundays, so my inbox is open on Sundays for that.

You have to make sure you mention in your ask that it's a confession, and I'll know to treat it as such. 😊

Anyway, in answer to your ask.... I really don't think it's so much that Tomdaya fans are threatened by Timmy (let's get real), as it's more that we're sick and tired of some people seriously shipping them the ACTORS with each other when they are both in relationships with other people.

Also, when you blog, you do tend to see more nonsense coming into your inbox from trolls, so it might get more annoying 😑 than it would possibly for others who are just casually looking at things on the internet.

But yea, we all know that Tom and Z are basically married to each other by this point rofl, so it's not that we're "afraid" smthg would happen btwn her and Timmy lol. 😅 We just think it's very disrespectful for fans to be shipping her with her costar or trying to read into things that aren't even there. 🙄

Tbh, most of us just roll our eyes at Timdaya shippers and keep it moving. Most of us aren't giving them any real care like that.... at least, not on my blog.

We recognize the weirdness and laugh at it honestly. Trust me, MOST Tomdaya shippers aren't worried lol 😆 😂 Maybe the Tomdaya newbies are who you're referring to? But us old heads are like, been there, done that lol.

Back in the day, actors had so much variety in their roles that had Z or Timothee been this age in the 90s, they would have been in 100 romcoms by now and ppl would be shipping them with their costars. It's not a reflection in real life.

Actually, I challenge you on this. Would celebrities of the 90s be "shipped" with their costars? I don't really think so. 🤔 I don't think people shipped actors with each other like that. That seems to be smthg that grew out of more modern times. I kind of feel like back then, people were happy to see their favorite actors in a role together, but nobody really blurred the lines and tried to read more into a costar than necessary unless there were actual rumors of an off-camera romance btwn the two.

Someone can correct me if I'm wrong, but I just don't think that shipping was a thing back in the 90s. Most people probably knew the boundaries, especially if that actor was already in a serious dating relationship with someone else.

Most people didn't even know much about celebrities outside of what they saw in interviews, and there wasn't social media, so what on earth was there to ship exactly? 😅🤷🏾‍♀️

The insecurity projected unto Z is so weird because this same insecurity is never placed on Tom, and he had a makeout scene in TCR. No one thought he was dating his costar.

I blame the fans honestly. Z is also a woman, so she probably gets treated differently than her male counterparts.

SOME antis have tried it in the past when they tried to insinuate that smthg was going on with Tom and Sofia Ali, Tom and Emma, Tom and Ciara Bravo, etc. It's very small, but it has happened before. The reaction is the same.... we don't like it. 🤷🏾‍♀️ It's disrespectful.

It's one thing to say that two actors would look "cute" together, vs. "Smthg happened btwn them on set during filming...", or, "Did you see the way he looked at her? There's for sure smthg going on there, and they're just itching to break up with their significant others to finally be together like they've always wanted..." 🙄

Anyway.... I DO agree that fans shouldn't put too much stock into what weirdos say online. Weirdo Shippers are going to exist regardless... that just comes with the territory unfortunately 😕.

[flownwrong]

ask game yay

Happy Wincest Wednesday! (or Sunday in this case) I have a few questions for people to answer. Feel free to answer them all or just one (or none at all) even if you’re not tagged!

what song describes samdean the most?

man. i used to have a painstakingly crafted playlist with like narrative and all but it's been rendered obsolete in the couple years since by the change in both my taste and my perception of them. if i had to choose one right now, i'd go with you and i in unison by la dispute, because la dispute are 1) good poetry 2) good at longing and devotion 3) this particular song is about grief but not loss of love so it feels like a post-finale song (i encourage you to listen or read the full lyrics)

I will sing sweetly, hope that the notes change but

I do not need it to happen. I’m not resigned to it. And

If they never do I’ll sing your name in every line

Just like I did throughout this, just like I’ve always done

In every gun, the empty church, and every tortured son

In all those giving up, in all those giving in

Until I die I will sing our names in unison

my other go-to artists for them would be mount eerie and, ig, townes

if spn was set in europe, what country would the Winchesters be from? What language/languages would they speak (+ what car would they drive if not the impala, kinda)

haha okay i don't have any strong headcanons but i can tell you about a specific russian au we had going with friends and even meant to ttrpg the setting a little but it never worked out

dean was driving an old volga gaz-21 third series (which might have connotations that do not need exploring at this juncture but i'm actually very bad at both cars and soviet history lol) which would be pretty damn cool if lovingly maintained all the way from 60s to 2005 and of course dean would call it "lastochka" (a common endearment for beloved cars) only i have no idea how possible it would be for hypothetical john to get one in the first place

and he wouldn't really have grown up on bootlegs of western music so much as the likes of Kino and maybe even Grazhdanskaya Oborona which was weird af but also massively beloved across different classes subcultures and backgrounds so

talking monsters of the week, i'd love to see their ass kicked by a rusalka (mermaid but creepier) or even a domovoy for comedy (those are generally helpful but mischievous) and get into all kinds of trouble with an array of superstitions while helping the babushkas who give the superstitions power by relying so strongly on them, especially in little villages...

is there a project you’re working on currently? Do you have a line or sketch from it to share?

maybe? i hope to rework one of my longer wips into a short but finished (god please) fic but don't hold your breath

what’s the first fanfic for supernatural you’ve written? Did you publish it? Or if you don't write: what's the first fanfic you remember reading?

yeah, i've published it. was for first-time fest, where you picked an episode and did a first-time. coincidentally, i was going through my drafts and found a 2+ years old reblog of it i never posted, so since i didn't even reblog it for timezones then, have a link now (if you read it and like it feel free to reblog this blast from the past haha)

is there another codependent/enmeshed duo from a different fandom you enjoy? Are there parallels to Sam and Dean?

jesus. dunno, i don't think so? they have quite a unique combo of wholesome/dark/devoted

what type of wincest dynamic do you currently enjoy most? (sexual, platonic, dark, fluffy, early seasons, etc.)

the same one i've always enjoyed most — late seasons kind of bittersweet but securely established relationship vibe (in spirit of self-promotion, do check out my ao3 for more of the same haha!)

tagging whoever wants to be tagged etc etc. @prince-of-elsinore tysm for tagging me—it was fun!

[jkgnggj]

hii welcome to my little twin stars / kiki and lala themed blog! my pfp is a zoomed in poff bear of a drawing i commissioned my friend @aoki553 i like to combine my love for little twin stars with my other interests, in this case tori (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

i post / rb any toritsuka reita content I can get my hands on (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) i try posting daily (for now) feel free to msg me or ask me anything! i take drawing reqs and ff prompt suggestions! im always looking for new friends and other tori enjoyers <333

˳⁺⁎˚꒰ఎ about me ໒꒱˚⁎⁺˳

my name is ruby but you can call me ruchan ♡ im currently 20 my pronouns are she/her i speak spanish and english and im an artist, writer, cosplayer, roleplayer, and the number one toritsuka reita enjoyer (self proclaimed) xp

i like fairy kei fashion, pastels, unicorns, cats, musicals, sanrio esp kiki and lala / little twin stars ☆

i enjoy watching slice of life, sports animes, and anything involving delinquent / yakuza characters, the fictional character im currently obsessed with and have dedicate this blog to is my baby boy ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ toritsuka reita from saiki k ♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ tags ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳

#mikorei monday

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ every monday i try posting / reblogging mikoto aiura x reita toritsuka related posts (art, hcs, coms, ffs, etc.)

#torikechi tuesday

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ every tuesday i try posting / reblogging touma akechi x reita toritsuka related posts (art, hcs, coms, ffs, etc.)

#yumetori wednesday

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ every wednesday i try posting / reblogging chiyo yumehara x reita toritsuka related posts (art, hcs, coms, ffs, etc.)

#torisai thursday

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ every thursday i try posting / reblogging kusuo saiki x reita toritsuka related posts (art, hcs, coms, ffs, etc.)

#satori saturday

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ every saturday i try posting / reblogging hiroshi satou x reita toritsuka related posts (art, hcs, coms, ffs, etc.)

#ruchan writes

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ tag i use for when i post / promote my fics (my ao3 acc is the same as this one, as well as my twt, insta, discord in case anyone wants to talk thru those platforms instead)

#ruchans art

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ tag i use when i post my art, whether it be my half of an art trade, a gift for a friend or just a drawing i thought id share with everyone <3 i only do traditional art as of now

#ruchan rambles

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ tag i use for mainly text posts of me rambling about my hcs or aus

#commission

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ tag i use for keeping track of all the amazing drawings ive commissioned (im the number one lu-kario fan btw (also self proclaimed))

#art trade

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ tag i use for keeping track of all my wonderful art trades with friends and mutuals :> i try tagging their tumblr or instagram so anyone can follow if theyd like <3

˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ misc ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳

ofc I cant promise ill be able to post every single day or that ill post stuff thats specific for the theme / tag of the day, sometimes ill post torisai stuff on a monday if i really feel like it (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ and theres gonna be times i wont be able to post or run out of stuff to post but ill do my best to stick to this schedule ive set! ʕ⁠ ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠ᕤ☆ also if u have any suggestions for what the theme for fridays and sundays should be then pls lmk! I'm thinking psychickers sunday and art trade fridays? name still pending...

anyways i hope u enjoy ur visit, baii ~ ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

[latibvles]

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

bonus chapter! // the impulsivity of truth.

in which ronald speirs is overflowing.

TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @monalisastwin , @brassknucklespeirs

masterlist | gallery | taglist

WARNINGS: none specific beyond discussions of death

SUMMARY: it's April, 1942, and Ronald Speirs can't leave for boot camp without trying to do one final thing before he leaves. Still, letting it all out is easier said than done.

NOTES: happy two months SBT !! to say I got a little emotional writing this would be a fair assessment. I did a poll on which chapter should be written from Ron's perspective — What It Means To Depart won the poll, and so we have this! I hope you all enjoy it, this was also very fun to write since writing things from Ron's POV is still something I'm getting used to. Thank you for all the love on this little story of mine :) (this is also unproofread but alas I can have a little enthusiastic posting as a treat).

When someone does something wrong — they sometimes find it necessary to repent. Ron has never stepped foot in that confessional booth in their church, never once in the two decades his mother has taken him to Sunday service. But he imagines it to be cathartic to some extent; a needed release. And maybe that’s what this is to him, a prolonged, much needed release.

His six-year-old self pouts at him and his fifteen-year-old self is giving him a death glare, but twenty-one-almost-twenty-two  year old Ron is ignoring both looks of disapproval which he’s generated in his head, chasing catharsis as he makes a slow and steady march across their dimly lit street. It’s late, but he knows her window, sees it’s light on, so it’s likely she isn’t asleep yet.

Their street is quiet, empty besides the cars parked on the sides of the street. For a second he stands on his porch, leaning against his front door. Inside his house is quiet, too. His parents have already gone to bed. His sisters and brother had come to see him off tomorrow.

Ron takes a measured breath, then pushes himself off the door, making his way across the street with his hands in his pockets.

He’d always been content to sit with this — let his feelings sit in the cavity of his chest like some kind of bird in a cage. She had boyfriends, he had girlfriends, but the bird never left. If anything, it festered and made a nest of its own.

The Clarke front door is dark green with a golden door knocker. Had he really only said goodbye to James a little over a week ago, on this very porch?

It’d been a tight hug, a rough pat on the back. “You take care of her, Ron.” he muttered into his ear. They didn’t know his call to action would come almost immediately after that.

He knocks on the door, then waits. Ron holds his breath when the door opens.

“Oh, Ronnie!” Mrs. Clarke’s warm greeting brings a small smile to his face. He reaches up to rub the back of his neck as he gives her a nod in greeting.

“Good evening, Miss. Is Daisy home?”

Mrs. Clarke is clad in a satin pink robe, her hair in rollers, and Ron is only now painfully aware of how late it is. She doesn’t seem particularly upset by his sudden intrusion. Quite the opposite, actually. The Clarkes had a way of treating him like a second son. They’d become as much of a family to him as his own.

“Yes, she is. One moment…” she cranes her head, calling up the stairs with a “Daisy! Ronnie’s here to see you!” Before shifting her attention back to him. He sticks his hands into his pockets, letting out another sigh. “Do you want to come in? I could get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you it’s… it’s fine,” Ron reassures. He glances at the stairs for a moment, then back to her. “So how have you been, Mrs. C?”

They lapse into a small conversation — about James, about Mr. Clarke’s recent promotion, about what tomorrow brings. She offers her own reassurances and words of support that Ron thanks her for.

He doesn’t know how to express that he’s already resigning himself to the fact that he’ll probably be shot dead. That there’s a chance his mom’s going to have to bury a son. It, once again, feels confessional in nature; not something he’s ready to admit to quite yet, so he keeps those parts to himself.

The creak of a step draws his attention. He looks up the staircase.

Swathed in her brother’s letterman and beneath that, a beige cable-knit sweater that’s also a bit too big for her, but covers the upper half of the white nightgown she’s wearing, dark brown waves framing her face. He watches as a flush seems to bloom across the bridge of her nose, dark eyes blown wide for a moment. He glances down one final time, bites back a chuckle at the bunny ears adorning her slippers, then back up to her face. She waves at him, and he cracks a smile — surrendering to that warm feeling that envelops him whenever she walks into a room.

“Ah, there you are dear.” Mrs. Clarke moves over, allowing her daughter to stand in front of him.

Warm smile playing on her lips, the right dimple already poking out, looking at him with a face so sweet his teeth might just rot. Christ, ease up on me a bit, is what he wants to say, but he doesn’t.

“Hi Ron.” She greets.

“Hey Dais.” He returns. Mrs. Clarke looks between them, smiles a final time.

“It was good to see you Ronnie.”

“You too.”

She’s quick to disappear, leaving the two alone in the doorway. For a moment, a flash of worry floods Daisy’s face before it disappears. It takes a moment before he realizes they’ve been staring in silence.

“Did you need something?” She asks, with a tilt of her head. That snaps Ron out of his daze. He looks over her face, then at the interior of the house. The radio blaring, he has no clue where her mother’s gone. Not here, he deduces — because if he’s going to get it all off his chest, he’d rather it go uninterrupted. So he shoves his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Walk with me?” She gives him a puzzled look.

“At ten at night?” Ron can’t help but smile at that, amused.

“Your parents trust me, don’t they?” She lets out a half-frustrated huff. Ron swallows hard when she uses him as balance to trade out her bunny slippers for a pair of slip-on flats on the door, fingers pressing into his shoulder blade. He swears his skin lights on fire beneath her palm.

Then she walks out onto the porch, she shuts the door, and when he walks onto the sidewalk she keeps time with him. It’s a cool night, quiet, if she weren’t already wearing a jacket he would’ve offered his own. If he had brought one.

It’s only now that he realizes how… vastly unprepared he is for this. Should he have brought flowers? Maybe. Or that candy she likes. Should he hold her hand? It’s within distance and their hands keep bumping each other’s. It’s like being fifteen again on his first date. Except this isn’t even a date, and that’s the part that makes him feel a little stupid.

He’s always been able to roll with the punches. Daisy likes to throw kicks.

“I uh… ship out tomorrow.” He manages after they’ve been walking for a considerable time.

“You do,” He watches the corner of her mouth twitch. “You and Jimmy got a lot of nerve, leaving me to console your forlorn mommas like some kinda shrink,” Her tone is half-scolding, but her expression is still effortlessly warm, a smile overflowing with mirth. He opens his mouth to speak, but her gaze has reverted back to the quiet street, so she doesn’t notice. “I don’t mind though, I’ll look after her when I can.”

Ron can’t fight the fond smile that makes it onto his face. Because that’s just how she is. As kids she’d set aside her math homework to put band-aids on his scraped knees. In high school she was the first one running to get a school nurse when he’d wiped out completely on the track. And now, without his asking, she offers to look after his mom too. As if she isn’t still in school — her final year of nursing school at that.

“Thanks, Dais,” he says — because it’s all he can muster, because she’s thrown another kick and he rolls with punches.

“Don’t mention it. Just remember to write when you can, think it’ll make it easier.”

“For her or for you?” Her head whips, she narrows her eyes, and delivers a swift punch to his arm that makes him laugh. Ron reaches up, rubbing the spot. It didn’t hurt much, but for a moment he forgets what he’s come here to do, basking in her halfhearted glare, that flush to her cheeks when he pokes at her pride. “You could’ve just said for my mom. No reason to attack me.”

The moments where she warned him against getting smart with her or feigned irritation had to be some of his favorites.

“Guess I felt like starting your combat training early,” He laughs at that, rolling his eyes at her justification. Then they lapse into a moment of silence, before: “So what, you drag me out here to fall to your knees and propose? Some promise about being married after the war?”

Ron stiffens, mentally reminds himself to keep walking. Not exactly, he wants to say. But you’re not too far off. Her quirks a brow, lips tugging into a frown and and despite that churning in his chest, he decides to pry.

“That happen a lot?” He watches as she shrugs, indifferent.

“Only once. You remember that boy I was seeing back in high school, Arthur Morris? Fell to his knee after Sunday service,” Ron takes a sharp breath. Of course he remembers. The guy broke up with her abruptly at the end of summer, sped off to university, and left her heartbroken for the entire latter-half of August. James was working at a boys sleepaway camp, and so Ron was the one to wipe her tears and try as he might to bring that smile back to her face.

That was also the month James figured out Ron’s feelings for his sister, even if they didn’t speak about it.

“I said no though, obviously. I’m not big on the whole… ‘I promise I’ll be back. Wait for me,’ thing. My mom was so torn up during the first war, and our dad hadn’t even proposed yet. Can’t imagine the kind of stress that comes with being a bride-to-be,” She begins to stroke her chin for a moment, and he shifts as she looks him over with a glint in her eye. “Though if you are keen on letting me in on your army benefits, I’m not entirely opposed.” And there it is. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at her remark.

“You really know how to make a fella feel special. I’m surprised you aren’t already waiting on some guy’s return from the front.” But the former part rings in his head, over and over again. “But no, I’m not proposing. Ring got lost in the mail, you know how it is, I just… wanted to know you’d be there. When I leave.” He shifts his gaze upward, towards the sky — as though breaking eye contact will somehow prevent her from seeing through him.

He learned fairly early on that Daisy’s father was a veteran. They got married after the first War and for as long as Ron could remember, James and Daisy spent every November 11th outside together. She hated the holiday, even if she didn’t voice it. A heaviness weighs on his chest as he mulls over her words for those moments of silence. Could he do that to her? Drop something like that on her and then leave? He isn’t even sure he’s going to come back, and if he doesn’t — would that make it worse? Ron wouldn’t ask her to wait for him, that was never his motive and it didn’t seem fair of him to put that on her. But the more he thought about it, the more that opening his mouth at all feels like doing exactly that.

Putting her in a position to wait, in some regard, when he doesn’t even know how he’ll end up at the end of this. And quite frankly, she deserves better than that.

“Of course I will. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Ron.” He pries his eyes away from the sky to look at her and take her in. The soft smile on her face, hands folded neatly in front of her, wispy brown strands falling into her eyes and nightgown peaking past the sweater and jacket. He could kiss her. He could ruin this. Not say a word more and just press his mouth to hers.

“Good.” He opts for instead.

They continue to walk. He cracks a smile every time Daisy gestures to something, drawing his attention to it.

The candy shop she and James loved so much. She always gets the dark chocolate bars with the raspberry filling. The dentist’s office — a woman used to work there named Millie, and James would try and sweet-talk her after every single track practice. He and Daisy would sit on the curb and laugh whenever James came shuffling out, embarrassed but too prideful to admit rejection. There are scattered alleyways and benches Ron knows all too well — frequent spots for him to sit and smoke. Daisy always found him easily, always scolding him.

“Those things’ll kill you one day, Ronnie!” she’d scold.

“Are you gonna tell on me?” And then, with a bewildered smile, as though he were wearing her down, she’d always shake her head.

“Guess not.”

Sometimes, he doesn’t even look at what she’s pointing at. Ron just watches the way her eyes light up as she recounts their memories and his chest aches in the familiar way it always does when he acknowledges how deep and how long he’s been running this course of his. He always found his way back to this, to the girl with the dark eyes and the dimples who lived right across the street. She wasn’t like Ron’s cigarettes, or alcohol, she didn’t necessarily destroy him from the inside out.

She was just warm and bright — like the light pouring from the doorway on her porch. Everytime Ron found himself looking at her, she felt like home.

They circle back to the Clarke house at almost midnight. The lights are on. Mr. and Mrs. Clarke must still be up. Daisy walks towards her steps, turns around, and opens up her arms to him.

Ron doesn’t hesitate to walk into them, feeling her arms wrap around his neck to pull him into that warm embrace of hers. He wraps his own arms around her, pulling her close and finds himself burying his face in her neck for a moment. His entire body’s wound up like a spring and all he can do is tighten his grip on the fabric of her sweater. He isn’t even leaving until tomorrow and yet somehow, this feels like more of a goodbye.

He turns away from the confessional booth the moment he buries his nose in her dark tresses, committing her embrace to memory. God knows if he’ll ever get to feel this again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Daisy murmurs, and he grunts in response. They stay like that a moment longer before separating. She squeezes his forearms, and the touch lingers as she turns away with a quiet “See you, Ronnie.”

He’s up bright and early the next morning. Mary goes over everything in his bag, wobbly-lipped and glassy-eyed. His sisters let their tears out in the privacy of his room as they lecture and scold him and make him swear to write. Robert pulls him into a tight hug, and his parents are waiting in the living room. Every departure is a family affair, it has been for as long as Ron could remember. As far back as the frequent trips to Scotland they took.

At the train station there’s more back clapping, more cheek kisses, and Robert messes up his hair to save face. Ron shoots him a glare, half-hearted, and the older boy laughs. His mother kisses both cheeks, and he hugs her as tight as possible. His father shakes his shoulders, and reminds him to be safe and to write.

Around them, similar occurrences are taking place. Men and boys kissing their sweethearts goodbye, slipping rings on fingers. Families participating in large group hugs. He feels nauseous, but doesn’t let it show on his face. He doesn’t want his mother to fret anymore than she already is.

Eventually he finds the Clarke family. Daisy’s picturesque in her floral patterned skirt and white blouse. He makes his way over, looking up at Mr. Clarke. The man looks down at him with a familiar smile — like he’s thrown the winning pitch during one of their baseball games. A heavy hand clamps on his shoulder, gives it a squeeze.

“It’s going to be a wild ride out there,” he starts. “But I know you and Jimmy’ll be just fine.”

“Thank you, sir.” Ron starts out. He shakes his head, then gives Ron another shoulder shake.

“Just come home in one piece, alright? And bring home a couple of good stories for me.”

When they were all kids, Mr. Clarke used to tell them stories about the War and his men and the camaraderie between them. Firefights in trenches, explosions, beating back the Germans time and time again. Back then it all felt so exciting. Ron remembers sitting at this man’s feet beside James while Daisy perched in his lap, begging him to continue and tell them everything. He swallows hard, and gives the man a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

It feels like a knife twisting when Daisy’s mother takes him in her arms for a moment to hug him, voicing her own sense of pride for him. She also reminds him to not forget about his laundry, to eat three meals a day and get enough sleep at night. He laughs and reassures her that he’ll try his damndest to do so.

Finally, as her parents walk past to talk to his, his gaze settles on her. She’s been messing with her fingers, but upon looking up at him, gives him a wave. He smiles.

“You won’t forget to write, right?” Daisy asks, her hands resting by her sides. Maybe the emotions of the day have left him overflowing, maybe he’s just not thinking clearly, but he nods as he reaches for her hand, giving it a squeeze. They’re soft, warm, and for a second he thinks the contact alone is enough to convince him to stay right here in this spot until the war’s over.

“I won’t. Promise.” Ron reassures. “You’ll be okay with… them?” She snorts, squeezes his hand back.

“Yes. Now they’ll have all the time in the world to pick apart my plans after I’m done with nursing school. What fun.” He snorts at her sarcasm, but it’s not enough to reassure him that she’ll be okay. But that isn’t what he means. Not in the slightest. He doesn’t know who will wipe her tears when he’s gone, and he doesn’t know who will pull her away when November 11th comes around again. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do without her there to patch him up or tell him off.

He doesn’t even know if he’s okay, getting on this train, and if he isn’t even sure — how is she? If any of these thoughts are bouncing around her head, she doesn’t voice them. But the train whistle blares and Ron’s facing the confessional booth once again. Her smile falters. “Guess this is it.”

He stares at their hands, at her grip tightening in his, and runs his thumb over her knuckles. He doesn’t want to let go yet.

“Yeah. Guess so.” Looking back up at her eyes, furrows his brow, and takes a breath as a new wave of determination floods through him. “Daisy I—”

Choooooo!

Ron cringes, looking to the train. Fuck it, he decides, pulling her towards him and, impulsively, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of her cheek. Because he can’t kiss her like he wants to, can’t say the words after all this time, but Ron can only hope and pray that she’ll get the idea.

I’ve liked you for so long. I’m scared. I don’t think I’m coming home. I’m sorry I didn’t say it. I don’t want to die. I’m likely going to die. I think I might love you.

He pulls away for a moment, lingering in her space, eyes shut as he takes a shaky breath. And then he lets go.

“I’ll see you soon, Dais. Take care of yourself.” Pulling himself away from her, turning before she can reply, and forcing himself onto that train. As he crams his bag into the overhead and slumps into the chair, he dares to look out the window.

His heart falling into the pit of his stomach, he watches as Daisy wipes away a tear.

He can only hope that soon comes quickly.

[priafey]

super-quick Sunday scribbles

hola mi gente!! we back at it again with the WIPs :3

i'm making a single post for the stuff i'm working on, as i was tagged for both WIP Wednesday and a special Self-promotion Saturday by @ladytanithia, but was a little too preoccupied to do either on those days.

First up, WIP Wednesday ⬇️

So I'm still polishing up that long-ass fic. I've been at it since the beginning of summer, I know... but I hope to be done by the end of September. Since I've already shared a ton of snippets from that story, here's a single paragraph from the next chapter of my vampire Gwilin fic. It's not a lot, but, for the moment, it's the only "new" stuff I've written.

"Tsk, ah!" winced Gwilin. He'd lost count of how many times he'd watched the singed skin at the back of his hand mellow away into pallid, flawless flesh. At first, he'd been trying to find a way to walk out of the hovel the vampire had dumped him in. But he wasn't even trying to leave anymore. He was just passing the time, like he had been for the last three days. He reached for the sunbeam again.

Self-promo Saturday ⬇️

this is for anything one would like to share. here's a poem (of sorts) that i wrote about my best friend from middle/high school, called "I knew him once".

I knew him once. He was my best friend. He was a boy who's ambition could fill the earth ten times over. Instead, it was confined in a wholly-inadequate-for-who-he-could-become one-story house. The confines spanned more than its walls. From this contradiction arose his hunger; hunger for knowledge and worldliness, certainly, but above all for barriers in himself and others he could tear down so everything within them could come crashing together. He hoped to learn something from the wreckage, or, at the very least, have some feelings roused by the warmth of watching it burn and become. But he himself wasn't the kind of person who became, who nestled into an End Point. He loathed being forced to sit and watch. It was too passive. And so he moved, and he moves, and all he knew was becoming. And I knew him once, while he did.

[isntthatwrite]

Week of 9/9-9/15

Card for this week: The Emperor - themes of authority, establishment, structure and anything dad-like (lol). this week, we're really into the swing of things with virgo season and creating structure/plans for moving forward. if last week inspired you to recommit yourself to your goals, this will be the week to set your plans into motion! you'll have more energy for the follow-through now. it's possible that while doing this, you inspire and guide those around you too! somewhere along the way, you went from Guy Who's Figuring It Out to Guy Who Can Share Their Findings. see yourself as someone who has learned a lot along the way and has worthwhile wisdom to share.

Transits/Astro forecast: this week feels like the most productive virgo season week of the year. borrowing from my personal experience, i am certainly getting to my to-do list items that have been tentative for months (maybe years....). starting a stretching routine before my workouts. buying better cookware. new work clothes that actually fit well. so on! as we know- current rxs are chiron, saturn, uranus, neptune, pluto (back into capricorn One Last Time). of note- mercury retrograde shadow finally leaves us this week. dust is settling and the Time Is Now. really capitalize on this energy this week because the following week, we'll have the lunar eclipse/full moon in pisces and the last days of virgo season before we enter libra season. you'll thank yourself for getting into action this week. deep clean the house before you put up your decorations etc etc

as for specifics-

wednesday 9/11 - mercury sextile mars + mercury rx shadow ends - clarity of thought is so unbelievably back this week. you're able to really convey your message and execute at a high level this week. get into those deep to-do list items. put yourself out there! mental acuity and follow-through are on 100 and you're projecting confidence - make the most of it.

thursday 9/12 - sun square jupiter - in parallel with this week's broader Go Get Em energy, there is a great payoff for promoting self-confidence and self-belief this week. just be sure you're only saying yes to things you really want to. focus your energy on a few really important tasks/projects that reflect some piece of who you are and don't just go ahead with everything that may come your way. be intentional with your heightened ability to attract and execute.

saturday 9/14 - venus trine jupiter - some in the industry (the chani nicholas planner) are calling this "one of the most romantic days of the year". how cute! relationships, romance, creativity, harmony - you're attracting it all right now. i'm using the hell out of the word "attract" here, but it's really looking like magnetism this week. a fantastical energy. you're getting a lot done and building your world to fit your desires, so of course you'll need to celebrate yourself!

sunday 9/15 - mars squares the north/south nodes - a bit of a toughie admittedly (i have this natally). becoming who you are will require you to make some tough choices. there is always a degree of risk along with any new decision or path, and if you stay too long trying to weigh the pros/cons, you stymy your own progress. pursuing your dreams and breaking old patterns is always a bit uncomfortable in the beginning, but that doesn't mean it's wrong. find ways to support your journey and tend to your subconscious motivations to stay stuck in the same familiar places you want so badly to leave. shaming yourself only makes the spiral longer. the Can Do attitude of the earlier transits this week should remind you that you're much more capable of working toward your dreams than you give yourself credit for.

pretty comparatively light new astro energy this week! go do stuff!!

[eight-twenty]

Eight things: (The Lack of) Life Lately

the world is shite rn. but we are expected to live life normally somehow. so here's life.

Finding the fountain of youth I just turned 31 and a month, and the fading youth is starting to show. From the whites on my hair, the slowing metabolism, and the crackles from joints I never knew existed and the dimming lights on my eyes. When I was young (literally just more paychecks and a year ago) I used to find youth in trendy ampoules of skincare and habits guised under #selfcare. Now I've been finding it thru the consumption of things I used to (and should've enjoyed) as a kid, healing the inner child per se. In case it has not been sprawled out in my online spaces, I have been devouring Anime*, DraMione fan fiction**, Windows 2000 games, library trips, and for a brief moment of pure bliss I've been intentionally away from being online. 10/10 will recommend. Ironically, I've started this extra anti-aging routine thru the discovery of "The Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan", a limited anime series about a 31 year old children's host (I do children's parties on the side too!) who struggle behind the scenes work and his own bleak life. The consumption of childish media has put my mind in such a numbing state and I've somehow learned to take life less seriously--the hand drawn characters on screen can do the hardcore living for me. *Currently, the state of the world is giving off Marleyan and Eldian energy yeah? **Started by testing the waters through Manacled that it left a whole in my chest in the end, and found healing through DMATMOOBIL (the best after-cure of Manacled's dark themes) and Remain Nameless (the perfect combination of above titles). Escapism at its best. Living the cringe but free thirties indeed.

2. Relearning to be comfortable with visibility. Lately, I have been so careful about visibility, at least online. Lately, every piece of content I give away to the internet feels like creating a horcrux. Preserving my being through self expression online didn't use to feel so painful until of late. The online space used to be my refuge, the space where my irl personality could shine through because all I ever need to show up for it are words; it also used to be the place I can comfortably showcase my so-called income generating 'talents' (okay, not so-called, I know I'm capable) to make up for the lack of popularity and nepo connections. However, I have such a love-hate relationship with being recognized. Having an ounce of validation makes me want to squirm into a cave. Having too little recognition also makes me feel I'm doing my god-given skills a disservice. It takes a certain amount of privilege to not have to put your self out there, especially for someone who needs (and wants) and audience to shine through in their areas of passion. I am continuously learning and coming to terms that my work would never speak for itself without me calling attention to it. It's actually quite arrogant of me to think that people will just flock to my work--and to assume appreciating me for the raw talent without self-promoting makes me better than anyone. As a wise philosopher of my generation once said:

3. Inexisting is a fantasy that keeps me going.

Visibility being said, being invisible irl sounds so good rn. Being away from it all but without having to die or without having to be obliviated from existence has become a concept I've loved toying with lately I know I can't be invisible, but I can be inside a Pikachu mascot for a day, and that's the closest I can ever get to inexisting--and I kind of want that.

photo from reddit

Having to participate in society has become so daunting.

4. I've been going to church on Sundays again Hozier, my lord and saviour, once sang "If there was anyone to ever get through this life with their heart still intact, they didn't do it right." to which I also say "If you've been through catholic school all your life with your faith still intact, you didn't do it right"

Without the outside pressure of guilt, going to church on your own terms feels like therapy; the idea that someone else who is bigger and better than you is to be blamed for your misfortunes (and luck) feels nice. 5. Random wedding detail nobody asked for: I am a girl dad's gworl. I purposely didn't have a father-daughter dance at my wedding (as per tradition) because I hated the idea behind it, of it symbolizing the father giving his daughter (or responsibility) to the now husband. Why can't people just get married without the thought of having to be given away--or having give up the life you loved living. marriage built on other people's beliefs is so weird, man.

Husband

General piece of advice that nobody also asked for: Marry based on your idea of what a marriage entails, even if it's not practiced by many. Do it to create your definition, not by tradition.

6. The fear of "utang na loob" will ultimately be my downfall in this country life. Everything they say (by they i mean sitcoms) about Canada is true. People in Canada are awfully nice and are painfully so sincere about wanting to help. And perhaps the reason I'm struggling more than necessary is because not only do I now know/want to ask for help, but also because I don't know how to receive help without feeling like my life is to be built in returning the favor upon acceptance.

7. A charcuterie board of cheesy feelings I am also reaccepting how I am a super cheesy person at the core. I simply can't be cynical and detached (i have tried). I like reaching out first, i like sharing paragraphs about my latest obsession, i like take cares and nice meeting yous, sweetness and earnestness. I like giving warmth and affection. i think it's cool to.

I never really understood the idea of self-preservation. I never learned to quantify generosity when it comes affection (love, trust, even money). To quantify emotions and feelings (e.g. subscribing to the idea of not knowing how to love anymore because you've given to someone who didn't deserve it) is like believing in the concept of virginity—that a woman becomes 'less than' once it has been given. it's silly and outdated. To borrow from my (not a philosopher) old tweets filed under the thread "concepts and ideals that we need to stop preaching because the world is entirely different now"

the world continues to be entirely different the last time i thought it was different (taking at a worse turn i believe). send a paragraph long message of nothing to someone. that will surely mean everything. 8. Consistency remains to be a concept I struggle with, and that I believe is the solution to my being. Consistency to me is stripping away sincerity in exchange, and I have always preferred the latter.

[hauntedstarfishbanana]

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A while back I wrote and short article on this subject matter. Even so, Letterman says his socks aren't white. Effectively, they look white on my tv set. They must seem white to Other folks as well or why would he make the comment. I suppose They can be gray or light-weight blue or these. Who cares? Don't They give the impression of being foolish on a person in a very dark Brooks Brothers accommodate?

I don white socks every day. Once i put them on Sunday to head over to Church my wife goes ballistic. I convey to her not to worry. I will just pull on my cowboy boots.

Here are the initial prime 10 motives I gave for Letterman's white socks:

1. He has jungle rot from WW II.

two. He hates to look for matching socks in the dark.

3. He isn't going to choose to fail to remember his "Region Pumpkin" roots.

4. His brother is really a male nurse with a significant apparel allowance.

five. It helps him disguise from the cotton subject with the revenuers, In addition to he is a Chicago White Sox fan.

6. He is definitely an avid Whitetail Deer hunter.

7. He performs an evening position in the bakery.

8. He thinks he's Frosty the Snowman.

nine. His terrific grandmother wore white socks and that's how he remembers her.

Along with the 10th explanation that David Letterman wears white sox is:

ten. He hopes to Check out for the subsequent Mickey-Mouse-style Disney Character.

Listed here are 10 much more major good reasons David Letterman wears white socks but this time We are going to use Letterman's reverse order:

Quantity ten. He is recognizing the demise with the Polar Bear.

Range nine. He is going to Perform while in the snow along with his boy and he will not want the neighbors to discover him.

Selection 8. It ruins the photos from the paparazzi.

Selection 7. He can discover matching socks at midnight without waking his son.

Number 6. The healthcare facility recommends white socks for repeated emergency bypass surgical treatment.

Amount 5. He heard that Napoleon most well-liked white socks.

Selection 4. He won't wish to be picked as the top Dressed Person from the Year by Individuals Journal.

Variety 3. He'll Bermuda ideal once the show and can be altering into his white match.

Range 2. Paul said he appears excellent dressed just like a geek--

as well as the Number 1 purpose that Dave Letterman wears white sox is:

#1. It is an element of his Clown Fit!

Fly Outdated Glory!

[indigo474]

21623-

Today was the first day i didn't feel like i was drowning. My work days/weeks are starting to have a rhythm to them. Maybe there is hope- there is always hope. I've been filled with self doubt the past few weeks- no fun. I try my best to be gentle with myself. One thing i do know for sure and i tell myself is that these feelings will pass. they always do and i always feel better again. let them come let them go...get out of your head April..also give yourself time. My team is coming along nicely. I'm getting the results I want out of them. I don't care for one of the new people on my team. I can't let it show. there are a few reasons she gets under my skin but a big one is her inability to look me in the eye. Not all the time-just when she's lying to me.

i want to send my mom a copy of my promotion letter. the little girl in me wants my mom to be proud of me. I haven't sent it yet because i don't trust her. Im scared she will send it to X. I don't trust my own mom. She wanted to me come over on Sunday. I don't want to. It's my only day off and i don't want to spend it with her- plus its a long drive and my car is in need of repair. she texted me while i was watching the super bowl. she asked me to call her. the old me- the april who thought if just tried harder or did what she wanted me to she would love me would have called her. I would have not watched the super bowl and called her and then would have regretted not doing what i wanted to do. I didn't call her. I explained i was watching tv and enjoying it and i would call her at a later time. When i did call her the next day she sent the call straight to voicemail. she doesnt like it when i have boundaries. she will never see my place because she refuses to call before coming over. it was the same at Chatham- she stopped coming over when i told her i needed her to call before and not just show up. it is what it is- but the child in me still wants her to be proud of me. i am proud of me.

Mads is still vegan. I'm proud of her. 16 weeks until graduation. I can hardly believe it. it's been almost a year since she has spoken to her father. a year ago she didn't want to live-today she is excited about cauliflower.

i saw Kika tonight. she was ok. i wish i could bring her home and love on her. I benched 87x5 today- it almost seemed easy- almost- that last one was hard. i'm not sure if i should keep going 2x a week. i like it- i worry about money. i'm currently having cash issues because of switching banks. i have to do more banking tomorrow - i haven't food shopped and i haven't done laundry. i went and got waxed last night which throws off my whole week. Its going to rain tomorrow and im going to go for run.

I am proud of myself- i know i can do this supervisor thing. I have a girl on my team who has some issues- a few write ups-never on time. i'm her 3rd supervisor- we are working on her being on time- she told me she can't because it's too hard and this is how she is and on and on. she kept saying it's just tooo hard- i finally said to her i know you can do hard things. she looked and me and said your right i can. she hasn't been late since. it's only been 2 weeks or so but she hasn't been late and she is making all her punches. promising- we shall see what happens.

April,

I am proud of you! You are doing a great job. i love you.

[theliterarywolf]

Someone should make a video essay how this constant nit picking and micro managing of LGBTQA content is probably what lead to a series like "boyfriends". I swear, you constantly get shit on for doing anything "problematique" with LGBTQA characters, to the point where one wrong line, and someone will come out of the wood work to talk shit about you because in their subjective opinion "that's not how someone from the LGBTQA would act!" EVEN IF YOU'RE PART OF THE LGBTQA, even more ridiculous when you are the specific sexuality/gender you're writing about. It has basically lead to only the most basic content, with no plot or stakes becoming bigger and bigger. It's like people WANT stories with LGBTQA people in it, but only if they never get put into actual stories with... well, plot. Just an empty shell. I'm not surprised that foreign LGBTQA content is more well liked, and enjoyed than anything from the West. Like, I can't even remember a single notable LGBTQA story from the West that got even close to some of the foreign stories I've seen and read.

Now, to be fair, I will bring up the perspective of if you're making a piece of media and you promote six ways to Sunday about its strong, respectable LGBTA rep that completely changes the game on how such characters are written... And said character is an offensive slur that makes the LGBTA people in your audience go 'Just call me a slur already; it would be easier for the both of us' Or if you do have an LGBTA character in your piece of media but they're nothing more than Brian Griffin with a neon-blue undercut (i.e.: a creator's blatant self-insert who only exists to spout out sanctimonious dribble about being LGBTA) Then, yes, in those cases the people who shout "that's not how an LGBTA person would act!" are justified in calling it out.

However, everything else with this submission is spot-on. To this day, everytime I see someone talking about compelling books with gay leads and someone brings up Captive Prince, the thread immediately delves into 'Nope! Not acceptable! That book is shitty and racist and problematic!'

... As if something that's called 'CAPTIVE PRINCE' doesn't already tell you that there's going to be some questionable material for the sake of NARRATIVE and THEME.

But, yes: people swear up and down that they want more media with LGBTA characters as the focus but they're too far gone in the mindset of 'oh, but I don't want anything bad to happen to them ever' that a lot of what ends up becoming popular is the equivalent of a piece of Styrofoam spritzed with cotton candy unicorn perfume.

Is mindless fluff fine? Yes, some people engage with that media in order to destress or just feel good at the end of long days. But it can't be the only kind of LGBTA content out there because, at the end of the day, those who insist otherwise are almost presenting the image that LGBTA people can't handle conflict.