#in other news. I’ve been procrastinating on so many things all day so

[sunnnfish]

Hey guys. Hey friends. You know what time it is. Monthly reminder to read Toilet Bound Hanako Kun. If the previously posted wall of text wasn’t enough to convince you how fucking deranged i am about it, then. Well. I dont know what else to do.

[revengeghoulette]

Matcha Latte w/ Rose

Part 1: The Meet Cute, Barista Swiss x Professor Mountain

Part 2 3

Playlist: The Rosy Crown

I’ve had this idea written down since February, because a friend made me a matcha latte with oat milk and a splash of rose and I was like yup this is definitely Them. I also definitely did not describe my dream of owning a book & coffee shop.  No mentions of matcha this part, but definitely next part. Divider by @ghuleh-recs

@divine-misfortune bc i really enjoyed your tags :) @obsidianghoul, @gottagho-st @foxybouquet @rainsbasspick @hypnoneghoul bc Swissalps

Slightly edited, might go back in and edit some more

Swiss works at a quiet little bookstore and coffee shop owned by an elderly couple. They’ve been training him to take over the business since they're too old to be doing this sort of thing, and want to leave it to a local who will take care of their business. He’s always wanted to be a businessman and run a little local shop. A safe space for all the so-called weirdos in the community, especially the college kids trying to figure out who they are. Fresh baked goodies round the clock, fresh coffee, a bookstore with an upstairs quiet area for studying with sleeping pods in case anyone needs a place for the night, or just needs a nap. 

Once he officially became the owner, he changed its name to Rosy Crown Bookshop and Cafe. He hired a few teens, a handful of part-time college kids, and his friends Mist and Sunny, who help run the bookshop side of things and do other management stuff. 

Swiss enjoys working as a barista and running the cafe. He enjoys seeing all the new faces at the start of the semester, but mostly, he enjoys the fact that his coffee shop is the go-to study place. He also hosts study sessions, trivia nights, and other little destressors for students. During midterms and finals, the cafe would be open 24/7 for those procrastinators and extreme studiers. Mist, Sunny and Swiss don’t mind staying open for them and working long hours. 

The start of a new semester was around the corner. New faces were slowly starting to roll in, exploring the bookshop, trying the seasonal drinks, and a few asking for employment. Many nervous freshmen calm down after chatting with Swiss, knowing they have a safe space to come to for studying.

Swiss was finishing opening the coffee shop when he walked in. He’s tall, slender, wears glasses, tousled reddish brown hair that matches the autumnal leaves outside. Swiss was taken aback by this beautiful man… wait no. Ghoul? There’s a certain scent to him. He was too distracted to notice that he was ringing the bell for assistance. Snapping out of it, Swiss walks behind the counter to take his order. 

“Hi, welco-” Swiss starts, but never finished.

The man looks up the menu, only to say “12 oz drip coffee.” 

Swiss is shocked at the man’s abruptness, “oh sure, name?” 

“Mmmm…ark. Mark,” the hottie answers with some hesitation. 

Swiss smiles because it reminds him of those customers that like to make up names for their orders like Obi Wan or Rapunzel, “Mark?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, ca-can we rush this? I’m late for my first day,” the ghoul man stammers out

“You got it!” 

Swiss turns around to fill a cup with drip coffee. Before handing the cup over, he scribbled out a little message on the sleeve, “Good luck” 

“Here you go, on the house,” Swiss slides the coffee across the counter. 

“No, I have to pay,” he insists, fishing for his wallet in his messenger bag. 

“Mark, I’m serious. It’s on the house. Now go before you're even more late,” Swiss shoos him away playfully. 

The day goes on smoothly, but Swiss couldn’t get Mark’s smile out of his mind. 

“Whatcha doin’ there Swissypoo,” Mist pokes Swiss while he’s staring off into the distance as she wraps her apron around her waist. 

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Swiss tries to play it off. Mist chuckles because she doesn’t believe him, but won’t push it. 

The entrance bells ring announcing the arrival of a customer.  Swiss stands up a little taller, and dusts off his apron. Mist looks between the customer and Swiss. There’s something there, so she hangs back, refilling the caramel sauce squeeze bottle, watching them interact. 

“Hi, welcome back,” Swiss smiles at the man. 

The man in front of him looks almost embarrassed, apologetic, “Hi, I’m- uh, sorry about um earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” he brushes him off. 

“I’ve felt bad all day so I thought I’d come and buy a little celebratory pastry,” the stranger flashes him a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit. 

“How did today go?”

“It was actually pretty good, thank you. Can I get a slice of the carrot cake please. Can you make it to go?” 

“Absolutely,” Swiss grabs the slice and places it on a box, scribbling ‘For surviving the day’ on the lid before handing to him, “Here you are.”

“Thank you! I’m Mark, by the way. I know I told you earlier, but I wanted to properly introduce myself.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark. My friends call me Swiss.” Swiss extends his hand for a hand shake and Mark meets his hand, static shocking both of them. 

Mist was right, there was something there. She was definitely going to question Swiss once this guy leaves. 

“What the fuck was that?” Mist pushes Swiss to the back of the house, slapping his arm. 

Laughing, Swiss pushes Mist away by pushing her forehead, “What do you mean?”

“Dude, sparks were literally flying. C’mon spill.” 

“Nope! My shift is over, BYE!”

With that, Swiss takes off his apron, and leaves the shop. Mist is flabbergasted by what just happened. 

Mark came in every morning that week to get coffee before jetting off to work. Everyday Swiss would write a little something on the sleeve of the coffee cup, or on the napkin with his pastry. Mark has never mentioned them, but Swiss is hopeful he saw them. 

It’s Saturday, and he’s not expecting to see Mark, but it’s a nice surprise to see him walk in and take a seat at one of the corner tables. After setting his bag down, he walks up to the counter. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Well, hello stranger. Can I get you your usual?” Swiss asks as he’s about to turn around. 

“No, actually. I was wondering if you could make me your favorite drink. I don't usually drink like those fancy coffee drinks, but my TA was giving me shit for always drinking the same thing, so I wanted to explore different caffeinated drinks, I guess, and I didn’t know where to go, so I figured since we kind of have a rapport I could ask you. Oh my goodness, I'm rambling, I'm sorry!” 

Swiss smiles kindly at him, chuckles a bit. “TA? Are you a teacher?” 

“I’m a professor at the local university,” Mark explains. 

“Emeritus Tech? I graduated from there! But yes, why don’t you go sit down, and I'll make you something” 

Mark takes a seat and pulls out his laptop and a book. Swiss returns with a latte. 

“This here is a vanilla latte. Everyone says ‘it's basic,’ but it’s a good beginner coffee drink if you’re just starting to explore the coffee world. You can change the flavoring and the type of milks used. It’s vanilla flavoring, a shot of espresso, and milk with some foam on top,” Mountain lifts an eyebrow at the design on top, “It’s a swan,” Swiss answers his unspoken question, flashing him a smile, “I used oat milk because I find that it gives it a creamier, slightly thicker consistency. Enjoy. I’ll make my rounds.” 

Swiss leaves Mark to his own devices, but he watches him from behind the bar. Mark takes a cautious sip from the mug, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. He didn’t know coffee could taste so good. He just stuck to drip, because he was too scared to order or make different drinks. 

As the afternoon crowd slowly started to leave, Swiss began cleaning around, organizing shelves and restocking books and coffee supplies. Mark’s eyes would often wander to Swiss. He’d catch him dancing, humming to himself, reading the summaries of books before shelving them. Mark was entranced by Swiss’ silly little shenanigans.  

Mark stayed late to finish his lesson plans. Swiss occasionally brings him water, or a sweet treat against Mark’s wishes, but he still eats them. Mark wraps up his plans, grabs his things and leaves, waving goodbye to Swiss. 

Swiss switches off the open sign after staying open an extra hour just for him. He grabs a rag and a bin to clean off the table Mark was sitting at when he finds something scribbled out on a napkin. 

“Thank you for all the notes on my coffee and pastries. Call me -M” with his number written below. 

A giant smile forms on his face, he looks at the note again because he doesn’t believe it real. He’s so happy and excited that his tail unglamours and wags with happiness. 

From across the street, Mark watches as Swiss’ tail wags, admiring the dimples on his face. He’s so beautiful, Mark thinks. 

Swiss finishes closing duties and gives Mark a call after locking the door, to keep him company while he walks home. 

“Hello?” a groggy voice answers 

“It’s Swiss, sorry is this too late? I can call at a different time.” Swiss starts to panic, scared he woke him up. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I was just dozing off on the couch. I- I, thanks for calling, I-” Mark breaks out into a quiet giggle, “Oh this is dumb, but I wanted to hear your voice,” Swiss blushes hearing Mark say that, “Oh, also, you have a cute tail.”

“Wait. You saw that?!” Swiss is shocked. He thought he was alone, or at least, didn't think anyone would be paying attention to him. 

“Sure did, and my name's Mountain, not Mark, and I also have a tail.”

Swiss is relieved by the confirmation that he’s also a ghoul. 

“Mountain… I like it. It suits you.”

They talk as Swiss makes his way home, and late into the night, way beyond their bedtimes, and fall asleep on the call. 

After that phone call, Mountain went to the coffee shop every day before and after work. He’d sit in his usual spot and do some grading, or read a book while waiting for Swiss to get off work. 

Mountain’s become a regular, and the employees start to recognize him and his order, as well as some of his students. The coffee shop has become a secondary office where students stop by just to ask him clarifying questions, or sometimes they’ll set up a meeting to discuss larger topics. 

He’s met Sunny and Mist during the shift overlap, and they sometimes sit with him to keep him company when work is slow. They all know they’re ghouls living amongst humans. 

Sunny loves to discuss books. Keeps him updated on the latest book releases and also customer drama. Mountain is a big time consumer of customer drama. In return, he gossips about his students.

They’ve also discussed hosting some sort of reading or book program in collaboration with the bookshop. Talks about hosting Q&A’s with a variety of subjects have come up. 

On a quiet Friday night, when Swiss’ shift ends, Mountain walks him to his apartment as per the routine now. Once at the entrance, Swiss turns to him and meets his eyes. 

“I want to ask you something,” Swiss starts. Mountain waits for him to continue

“Would you, maybe, want to go out with me?” 

Mount eagerly smiles and nods, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, and if you didn’t do it this weekend, I was going to ask. Yes, Swiss, I’d love to go out with you.” 

“Would you wanna come in? Stay the night perhaps? We can watch a movie, and have some frozen pizza? Neither of us have work tomorrow, and we can sleep in?”

“I-” Mountain starts, but is met with Swiss’ puppy eyes, “I can stay, yes.”

Swiss sighs in relief, grabbing hold of Mountain's hand, guiding him inside the building while rambling on about tonight's plans. Mountain laughs, squeezing Swiss hand a little tighter, sending a little thank you to whatever god made this happen.

Part 2: The Date... coming soon.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Someone asked me lately about Elfhild, Théodred's mom, and I'm procrastinating from other things so I wrote a ficlet (600ish words) about her. The summary of my Elfhild HC is that she was a musician/maker of instruments who was chosen to marry Théoden. They did eventually fall in love, and she was thrilled to be pregnant. But toward the end of her pregnancy, she was given some foresight into her impending death in childbirth. So I wrote this about how things went for her after she had that premonition, which she didn’t share with anyone else. Anywho. Here it is, the impulsive product of procrastination from other things!

***************

Elfhild thought first to tell her son all the most important things he would need to know about his life. That duty would always have to come first, but he should take care to find a refuge from the burdens of that duty. That history and tradition were valuable, but he needn’t be afraid of trusting his own instincts. That he would face many challenges, but if he treated others with kindness, he would have many allies to help him. She rushed through her lessons, determined to give him all the wisdom she had about how to make his way in this world that he wasn’t yet part of.

As time grew short, she decided many of the most important lessons were ones he would need to learn on his own, and so she began to tell him instead about herself, sharing things he might not ever hear otherwise. The words to songs that she had written just for him. How gazing at the stars and picking out shapes and figures in the night sky brought her peace and calm after difficult days. That she was proud to have a skilled trade that could have supported her in comfort even if she hadn’t simply been passed from one noble family to another. That although she loved his father deeply and would choose Théoden now without hesitation, she still wished she had been given the choice back when it mattered most. 

The end came ever nearer, but she always had more yet to say. Even as she struggled with aching joints and sleepless nights and painfully stretched skin and a constant burning in her chest, she begged him to stay with her for just a little longer. To let her endure the discomfort so that she could finish telling him all the things she needed him to understand. That she was infinitely grateful for the months they had shared. That she loved him above all else. That she wouldn’t regret giving her life for his. That none of this was his fault. Even if he could never remember what she said, she hoped that he would somehow still know in his heart that she had said it. And so she kept talking, resting a hand gently where she guessed his head to be and praying that the sound of her voice would reach his little ears. She talked to him until she no longer had breath to form her words or fill her lungs or keep her life. 

It was nearly forty-two long years before she would be able to speak to him again, and still she regretted that it was so soon. She wanted more for him, and the news that he was expected shortly brought her joy and sadness in equal measure. 

She took up an anxious watch, uncertain how to recognize someone who had spent his entire existence beyond her view. Someone whose history and fate were yet a mystery to her. Someone who would now be a man, tall and strong and proud and so different from the glistening infant she had barely glimpsed through the haze of her final seconds of life. But when he came at last, she knew him in an instant by the easing of her heart. The feeling of wholeness again. And when she called his name and he turned in her direction, she saw the light of recognition in his eyes, too. I know your voice, he said. Somehow I’ve always known it. 

The sound of his own voice was deep and warm and so much like his father’s, and she wept to hear it for the very first time. And then she sat by his side, this beloved stranger who had once been a part of her, and she held his hand and smiled and listened while he told his mother all the most important things she would need to know about his life.

***************

So those are my Elfhild thoughts. If you've read my Théodred stories, you’ll see that huge parts of his character directly reflect the stuff Elfhild expresses to him here (in some cases, he literally echoes her almost word for word) because he really did hear her, even if he never could have articulated it as such.

[harrisonarchive]

George Harrison and Sir Jackie Stewart at Donington, June 1979; photo 1 by Express/Archive Photos/Getty Images, photo 2 by Maurice Rowe.

First, the backstory to these photos:

"I’ve never raced seriously myself, but I had a go in a Formula One car, with quite an old 3-liter- engine car. I’d drive round Brand’s Hatch in one. And I drove in a charity for Gunnar Nilsson, a Swedish driver who died of cancer, because I gave the money from the ‘Faster’ single off George Harrison to Gunnar’s cancer fund. Anyhow, they had this day for the Gunnar Nilsson campaign at the track in England and they asked me to drive this 1960 Lotus, which had won a race in Monte Carlo when driven by the great English driver Sterling Moss. This car had no seatbelts, and because it had been in a museum for 20 years the tires were hard with no grip on them, yet the car was still pretty quick! But they assured me it was just a demonstration run, going round for five laps in formation and then five laps at your own pace. So I said I’d do it. I got there, and it’s Jackie Stewart in the Tyrrell he won his ‘73 championship in; James Hunt in the McLaren. Phil Hill in his famous Ferrari. I’m walking to my car while chatting with driver John Watson about the pleasure of the run we’re about to take, and he says, ‘You’re joking. There’s no racing driver that goes in formation! As soon as they drop that flag, they’ll all be gone like crazy!’ Sure enough, as soon as the checkered flag fell, the other cars went whoosh as mine puttered along in a haze of smoke! By the time I got to my first lap they were already coming behind me for their second lap, screaming away! Scared me stiff! [wild laugh] But at least I did better than James Hunt, who broke down on the first pass." - George Harrison, Goldmine, November 27, 1992

More on photo 2:

“I have never seen the photograph before as I can recall, so it is a really nice thing for me to have. Thank you so much. Ironically, last Tuesday evening, Livvy [Olivia] Harrison came up to have dinner with me and I would love to have shown her that and I am sure she would have been amused and would have also enjoyed it. Thank you so much for thinking of it.” - From Sir Jackie Stewart’s letter, 22 December 22, 2006, as sourced from an auction listing (x)

“George was an extraordinary musician and the sweetest of men, and, over the years, I grew to adore his gentle nature, his music, his deep spirituality and his friendship. [...] If we had been dropped from the same height, George would have been a feather, drifting this way and that on the breeze, and I would have been a lead weight plunging straight down: the point is we would have both there in the end. There were times when we could have been living on different planets, times when George was procrastinating over what to do and I would be decisive and all action, or waring amazingly casual and way-out clothes when I would be more traditionally dressed. Yet there were many other times when we seemed so similar, paying the same fanatical attention to detail. He could be amazingly fastidious, keeping his cars immaculately clean and taking such care and time over his gardens, both at his home near Henley, England and in his tropical paradise on Maui. This determination to get things exactly right extended to his music. George would work and work until a song was totally as he wanted it to be — not just right, but precisely right, so precisely right that it would almost sound as if it had evolved naturally, out of nothing, dreamily and effortlessly. [...] [Since 2001] we have stayed very close to Livy and Dhani, who has grown up to bear such a striking resemblance to his father, both in his appearance and his mannerisms. For me, George was a true friend who opened my eyes to so much that I would otherwise not have seen, and who in his calm, gentle way gave me a new perspective on living and dying.” - Jackie Stewart, Winning Is Not Enough (2007)

“The story really on that tune [‘Faster’] is since I was kid, like twelve years old, I got into motor racing and motor cycle races — not actually racing myself but as a spectator. And there was a track, racetrack in the place I was born, Liverpool, where they had grand prix races from time to time. So I started out when I was about twelve, just before I got into the guitar. It was always interesting to see in other areas of life who was wearing the long hair. And in motor racing, Jackie Stewart became the world champion in, I think, 1968, and he was the first guy with long hair and who had opinions, and he was a big Beatle fan. I had a book that Jackie Stewart had written which was called Faster. I thought, good, that’s the title. [chuckles] So I lifted the title, and once I got the title I was away… I wanted to write in a way that was like a story and would also relate to people who weren’t into motor racing. The only thing that limits it is the sound effects that I put on later." - George Harrison, KMET, 1979

“[George] was just a good man, a real gentle man. He was a fantastic thinker. He had one of the best minds of anybody I have ever met. He had his own beliefs, but as he got older he wasn’t someone who couldn’t get on with anyone who didn’t share that opinion. That was one of the nice things about George. Here was I living a whole different lifestyle from George, a different pace. As time passed we became close, which seemed to confirm the old saying that opposites attract. While I liked to organize my life with military precision, George took a more laid-back approach. The thing that most impressed me about him was he was very sincere. George told it like it was. He was very straight. He didn’t like people who were fakes. If he said he was going to do something, he would do it.” - Jackie Stewart, The Beatles In Scotland (2008)

“George had a great soul. His instinct was to forgive rather than to condemn and, when people behaved badly, he would make excuses for them. I learnt so much from him. In the late 1990s, when we started to spend more time in England, we saw more of George, his wife Livy and their son Dhani. We always enjoyed our visits to their home at Friar Park which George took great pride in restoring: reviving the underground canals and the 60-foot mountain modeled on the Matterhorn in Switzerland, complete with Alpine flowers and streams. He spent endless hours contentedly tending to the plants. ‘I'm a gardener,’ he would say.” - Jackie Stewart, Winning Is Not Enough (2007) (x)

[ariisrealities]

Heyyy guys this is my first post today im going to try to enter the void state with the lullaby method! I’ve been procrastinating for way too long and me,sister and my nephew are about get kicked out our home in 9 days !!! So I will be updating u guys on my progress !!! Please comment any tips for focusing!!!!!!!

Day 1- I listened to some brown noise for 13 mins and laid down in a my regular position (on my side) started affirming not for the void state but that my sister had 10k dollars to pay for the late rent bcuz I felt like I needed to that so we can have stable housing then the void state comes along. i turned the brown noise off and tried to just fall asleep naturally and affirm I feel asleep and I affirmed but not I fall asleep anyways , I kept waking up and I just affirmed and affirmed then at 4 something am I got into sats I think and I said I am in the void state and I am I started feeling symptoms like tingling I can’t really explain it but instead I should’ve kept affirming the thing I was affirming before ( aka my sister has 10k dollars) but thats basically it I’ll keep update of any other resultss ❤️! one more thing I think I’m gonna stay awake until I get very drowsy like half asleep half awake or sats something like that .

Final update: I didn’t get into the void state butttt WE ARE NOTT GETTING EVICTED!!!

Btw I will trying a new method to get into the void state! Im using yoga Nidra! And since I don’t know how to link the posts involved with it. you can look in my liking section it will be there!! I tried the meditation rn and it worked like a charm but I opened my eyes bcuz I forgot I had to affirm so I will be making a journey/progress post rn !!! I have so much faith in this method I know this method is going to work for me like NOTHING I MEAN NOTHING NO ONE CAN TELL ME THIS WONT WORK FOR ME LITERALLY THATS HOW I FEEL STRONGLY AND FIRMLY I AM GOING TO GAVE THAT DREAM LIFE NOBODY CAN TELL ME NOTHINGHGG. 😭a lil moment but yea this works so fast so im def going into the void with method and u can too it’s fast and it’s easy I wasted soo much freaking time on doing nothing and now im fed tf uppp so my plan is to try at 5:00 am before school I get to go to school at 10:00 so I have ALOT of time!!! I been seeing 444 1111 and numbers like that for so long and this is my final push. This is my moment to SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND ( in rihannas angelic voice😌💅🏾) I AMM SOOO FREAKING READYYY FOR THIS IM READY FOR A CHANGE NOW I GAVE BEEN SETTLING FOR LESS FOR TOO DAMN LONG I NEEEDDDDD TO ACHIEVE BAD BTCH NOT TAKING SHII FROM ANYONE TYPE GIRL TO COMR OUT OF MEEE! I NEED TO SHIFTT TO MY WR AND MY FAME DR TO GO TO POUNDTOWN WUTH MY VERY WEALTHY SWEET CARING HUSBAND AND I WANT TO SEE MY BABIEESSS IM GOING TO SMUGGLE THEM WHEN I SEE THEM FRFR IM SHIFTING TO THE TIME I WAS 5 MONTHS WITH MYLO (my son the youngest 🥺💙) BROOO IM SOO FLIPPING HAPPY RN ALL HIGH VIBRATIONS ❤️❤️❤️I CAN WAIT TIL I GO INTO THE VOID IM GOING TO TELL U GUYS EVERYTHING RIGHT I SAY WHAT I WANNA MANIFEST IM STRAIGHT SHIFTING TO MY WR INTO FAME DR I HAVE TWO MY MESSY FDR AND MY NORMAL FDR IM GOING THE NORM ONE FIRST. I HAVE SO MANY DRS IM JUST GONNA GO TO MY FDR AND TELL U GUYS SO MANY STORIES BRO IM GOING TO HAVE A FCKING BLAST. LIKE I RLLY NEED THIS BREAK RN (srry for the captions 😭) bcuz i js rlly need to yk get from all the bs happening with my family in general I feel so unappreciated I try my best but it never seems good enough for them. My sister makes me feels like im a burden to her so im js gonna manifest me a dad and leave I’ll still communicate with her I js don’t feel like i want to LIVE with her yk she got my nephew and that’s all she could handle our mother rlly js messed us up. Im js tremendously grateful i stumbled upon manifesting & shifting now i can change my life for the better i can heal finally and truly be myself i can literally travel to any reality to ANYWHERE AND BE ANYTHING I want to. I CAN DO ANYTHING I know I have the power to do it ik it’s within me im going to shoot for freaking stars now.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Chapter 23: Oyayc (Second Chances - Hunter x reader)

Oyayc. adj. alive

Chapter Summary: You receive a strange message while on an errand.

Chapter Warnings: gets a little suggestive so minors be gone, angst, hurt/comfort, talking about feelings, author is exhausted and their brain refuses to work properly, thank you DJ for the ending divider! <3

Word Count: 3,702

A/N: hello hello I am back I am here I am excited to be writing this again after my week off. not totally sure how I feel about this chapter bUT the next few are gonna be fun (for me) so strap in!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

As you lower yourself to the bare floor of your brand new bedroom, you sigh, crossing your legs. In front of you rests a holorecorder. A breeze puffs through the open window; the joyful sounds of children laughing and playing wafts to you with the scent of baking bread. It’s early afternoon, the kids are out of school for the day, and your new houses are finally ready (with the exception of furniture).

You’d promised the others you would join them at Shep’s for dinner, but you’ve been lingering in your new abode for close to an hour now. You’re not sure what is stopping you from simply recording the message, pressing ‘send,’ and rejoining your family, but every time you’ve set the recorder down and turned it on, the words stick in your throat. Echo hasn’t been online since he departed during your...brief exile, and despite Hunter’s assurances, you worry for Echo. You worry you won’t get the chance to see him again—and the pressure to get this message ‘just right’ presses on your chest. 

Surveying the space that will become your own personal hideaway, you chew at the inside of your cheek. The walls are pale, smooth clay; the floors consist of neatly-planed planks of hardwood; and the window faces west to catch the sunset, your favorite view. It’s why you’d picked this room for yourself. The kitchen overlooks the shared courtyard, but this, the near-spiritual feeling of watching the sun paint the sky and kiss the horizon, becoming subsumed by it, this is something you wanted to keep to yourself.

But you’re procrastinating. Inhaling a deep breath of warm sea air, you press the record button on the small device. A red light blinks on.

“Hey, Echo,” you begin, a smile twisting your mouth. “I—kriff, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried recording this. Can’t figure out where to start, I suppose.” Trailing off, you fidget with the hem of your pants, sifting through the various pieces of information that you want him to know. “I.... Thank you for what you said in your message to me. Things have gotten better between us all here. We’ve skipped town, hiding somewhere new. I’m sure your brother could send you coords whenever you want to come visit. There’s plenty of room for you here.

“The kid is doing great,” you say, making a deliberate decision not to name names in case this falls into the wrong hands somehow. “She misses you, but we all do. It’s different without you here. I hope wherever you are, you’re happy. Or at least not miserable. The others told me a little about what you’re doing, and as much as I worry about you, I know you’re doing a good thing. The right thing, even.”

You swallow, tears suddenly springing to your eyes, blurring your vision. In the gathering dark, the room around you seems to fall into deeper silence, shadows ushering in a blanket of stillness that sets your emotions plainly in view for you to see. You wipe away the wetness that spills down your cheeks. 

“Sorry,” you say with a hiccup, “just...I don’t think I’ve taken the time to actually process anything in a long time. I spent so much time running from my past that I ignored the future I wanted. Arien, losing the squad, getting them back.” You sniffle, trying to regain composure. “That, uh, thing that you always teased me about? It’s real. It’s so real, Echo. He makes me so happy, and I like to believe I do the same for him.

“Anyways!” Clearing your throat, you give the recorder a tight smile. “I don’t want to keep you. Let us know that you’re safe when you can. If you need anything, I’ll be there. Miss you, vod.” You click the holorecorder off, holding your smile until the light flickers off. 

A choked sob breaks through. Hugging your legs to your chest, you drop your forehead to your knees, a tightness in your chest that you haven’t felt in a long while. You’ve been on the move for so long, running from the Empire, from your actions and your feelings, from the fear of the unknown, and now you’re at a standstill. The dust is finally beginning to settle.

“Cyare.” Hunter’s voice is as soft and gentle as his hands as he slides you back across the floor into his warm embrace. 

You give a squeak of surprise, craning your neck to look at him. “H-Hunter? When did you—”

“Came looking for you when dinner started,” he says. “Thought I might find you here.” 

Face warming in embarrassment, you hastily dry your face. “How much did you, uh, hear?” 

“Ah.” He sighs, offering you a crooked smile. “I didn’t mean to listen in.” 

“You heard all of it.” 

“Yeah.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “You do make me happy, cyare.” 

Silence rests easy between you. You know you should get up and join the others at dinner, but you can’t shake the sudden discomfort that arises at the thought of doing so. There’s no way the others don’t know, or at least suspect, what’s going on between you and Hunter. But it’s one thing to assume they know, and to tell them outright. 

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

The words slip out without you really thinking about them, but as soon as you say it, you realize it’s what makes you so uncomfortable about actually telling the others that you and Hunter are entertaining a relationship.

Hunter hums, the vibrations tingling across your back where you lean against his chest. “I’m not sure I follow.” 

“Just...” You shake your head. “I was in a prison cell two weeks ago.” 

“And there was a war just last year,” he says. “I have accelerated aging. A lot has changed and a lot will keep changing. I care about you. I care for you. That’s what matters to me.” 

You breathe in his natural scent as you digest his words. You can’t say you disagree; you’ve wanted to move faster this entire time, but there’s still something that you can’t put your finger on that continues to worm doubt through you. 

He tightens his arms around you and continues, “I’ve forgiven you for what you kept secret. I’ve forgiven myself for being an ass about it afterwards. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. If you’re worried about any of that, don’t be. We both could have handled it better.” 

Understanding clicks into place. That’s what your brain has latched onto. He’d given you an ultimatum, and then revoked it, but you hadn’t yet had a concrete conversation about where things stood since then. Now you know; and if he’s sure, then you’re less worried with the others.

Turning in his grasp so that you’re face to face, you study his features in the light of dusk, muted purple sunlight draping his skin. He gazes back, even and calm and sincere.

You lean forward and kiss him.

His palm is large and warm against your back as he presses you closer, his other hand cupping the back of your neck. Tilting your head, you lick at his bottom lip. He groans softly as he opens for you, his tongue hot where it slides against yours, his entire body sighing as you devour him. You slide your hands under his shirt. His skin is smooth; you revel in the way his muscles flex under your touch as you map his body with your fingertips. 

He breaks the kiss first, eyes fluttering open. “Better?” 

You laugh, playfully tickling at his sides. To your delight, he yelps, shying away from your touch.

“Yes, better,” you say, filing his ticklishness away for another time. Withdrawing your hands, you sigh. “We should go eat.”

“Food,” he agrees. “And then we figure out how to get us some furniture. I’m tired of sleeping in the ship.” 

You and Hunter take the winding path up to Shep’s home side-by-side, hands intertwined, warmth settling comfortably in your bones despite the nerves gnawing at your stomach. You try to tell yourself you’re just hungry. As you near the gate, Hunter gives you one final, searching look, his gray eyes twinkling in the approaching firelight, before swinging the gate open.

Phee notices first. She coughs on her drink, but a grin, lazy and smug as a loth-cat that got the cream, spreads over her lips. “Welcome back, you two.”

Leveling her with a glare, you can only shake your head. Hunter releases your hand, only to slide his arm around your waist and tug you closer. You catch the smirk on Tech’s face, the one that very clearly means that his hypothesis has just been confirmed and no further data will be needed. 

“Wha—” Wrecker follows Tech’s gaze, and his jaw drops with a gasp. “Oh! About time, you two.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. You detach yourself from Hunter’s side to sink into a seat next to Wrecker. The fact that none of them so far have expressed any negative reactions serves to calm your worries. 

“You and Hunter have clearly been attracted to one another for quite some time,” Tech says. “I will alert Echo that I owe him credits.” 

Aggrieved dismay flashes over Hunter’s face as he draws up a seat on Wrecker’s other side. “You...placed bets on whether Nav and I would get together.” 

“Duh,” Wrecker says with an eye roll.

“Only on the timeframe in which you would, ah, ‘get together’,” Tech clarifies. 

Dropping your head into your hands, you groan. “I should have known.”

“Where’s Omega?” Hunter says. 

“Inside with Lyana,” Phee answers. “I’ll go get her. She wanted to wait to eat until you came back.” 

Following Phee with your eyes, you can’t help the smile that threatens to overtake your features. You can’t fathom now why you were worried at all. The squad is your family; they want only the best for you the same way you only want the best for them. Letting that thought fill you with soothing comfort, you reach across the table for the jug of berry wine and pour yourself a cup. 

Two sets of footsteps come pelting out of the house behind you, and a moment later, Omega and Lyana launch themselves into their respective chairs, breathless and in the throes of giggles. Savoring the explosion of fruit across your tongue, you sigh in contentment, gazing around at the people you care about most.

Well, you’re missing one or two, but that’s alright. 

“A toast,” Phee says as she returns, as well. Lifting her cup of wine with deft fingers, she inclines her head towards you. “To health, luck, and love. To (y/n) and Hunter.” 

Wrecker cheers, clapping Hunter on the back. Thankfully, you’re spared Wrecker’s physical enthusiasm, and instead down your drink, keeping an eye on Omega. 

You catch the exact moment the lightbulb clicks on for her. Her eyes widen, smile growing almost impossibly bigger. She throws herself at Hunter and wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

He glances at you through her curls, a carefree smile curling over his face. You raise your cup to him. 

As it turns out, most of the furniture on the island was either brought by the villagers when they fled their homeworlds, or was smuggled in after the fact. Standing in the midst of the shared courtyard, you cross your arms over your chest, only half listening to Phee and Tech go back and forth about where is the best place to acquire second-hand furnishings. 

Instead, you watch in silent amusement as Omega flits between the three houses. She still hasn’t picked which room will be hers. In all honesty, you’re tempted to give her the idea to have a room in each house—there’s plenty of room, even when you factor in holding a few rooms as spares for Echo.

Wrecker beats you to it. “Hey, kid,” he calls. “Just pick one in each.” 

She pauses on the threshold of the centermost home. “Great idea, Wrecker!” 

She disappears into the house with renewed energy. 

“We are going to have to furnish all three of her rooms now, Wrecker,” Tech informs with his finger raised. 

Wrecker shrugs. “I decorated her room on the Marauder. I can handle three more rooms.”

“So long as she keeps them all clean,” Hunter calls, loud enough for his voice to carry into the house that Omega is currently exploring. 

You chuckle. But the moment of mirth fades as a thought occurs to you. “We don’t have enough credits for three rooms for her, let alone one.” 

“I thought that might come up,” Phee says. She detaches a satchel from her belt and tosses it to you. You catch it in one hand. To your surprise, the bag makes a pleasant tinkling sound as you handle it; opening the drawstring, your eyebrows raise at the sight of so many credits. 

“Phee, we can’t possibly—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she interrupts. “It’s the least I can do. That should be enough for the essentials. You’ll get more the longer you’re here.” 

The longer you’re here. The credits in your hand are a promise of a stable future, one spent in peace, growing old with your family and raising your kid. You hope you convey the depth of your appreciation as you meet Phee’s caring eyes. 

“You should get going,” she says. “Brown Eyes, I made a list of nearby systems I’ve stopped at before for this kind of thing.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” he says, adjusting his goggles. “I am quite—ow!” 

You deadpan at Tech, pain blooming in your big toe where you kicked his shin. 

He huffs. “Fine. Thank you, Phee. I will take a look at the list.” 

“We should take one ship for now,” Hunter says, cutting off the sarcastic jibes about to be traded between Phee and Tech. “Until we know exactly what it is we’re looking for.” 

“The Redthorn has more cargo space,” you say. 

“But if we end up in a tight spot, we’re in trouble,” he counters. 

You shrug. “We did alright that one time.”

“You weren’t on the ship when we fled Nixor,” he says. There’s something in his tone that tells you to drop it. You frown, searching his face, but you can’t find anything there that gives away what he’s trying not to say aloud. 

“Fine.” You gesture to Tech. “The Marauder it is, then.”

As Tech maneuvers the ship down across the icy planet, your first stop of many today, you peer with suspicion through the front viewports at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon. The cold has never agreed with you, and from the looks of the brewing storm, it’s about to get a hell of a lot colder out there. 

The one thought bringing you comfort is that this iceball is as backwater as Pabu. The risk of running into the Empire here is near zero. 

Hunter seems equally uncomfortable at the prospect of getting caught in poor weather. “Tech, what’s the status on that storm?” 

Tech scans something on his datapad. “We have approximately four standard hours before the storm reaches us. That should be enough time to locate the merchants Phee indicated were trustworthy, negotiate prices, and set furniture aside for retrieval at a later date. If we have to, we can stay in town.” 

You frown. Four hours isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. A memory, one you’ve mostly forgotten about, drifts to the front of your mind of the time when you and Arien went hunting for a couch for your shared apartment. What you expected to take an hour, two tops, turned into a full-day affair—and that was just for one piece of furniture. Now you have three full houses.

Hunter’s brow is furrowed; so is Omega’s, in a near spitting image of her elder brother. She senses you looking, and her face splits into a grin. 

“I’ve never seen snow before,” she says. 

“Yeah! We can have a snowball fight!” Wrecker’s enthusiasm is almost enough to melt your worries. Almost.

Hunter sighs. “We’ll do what we can and try to get out before the weather turns.”

Wrapping the scarf you’d bought for Echo around your head and face, you try to steel yourself for the blast of cold air awaiting you. You’ve still not been able to get past the fear that claws up your throat when you try to put on the plastoid helmet, so you’ve opted to wear the body pieces on top of your warmest clothing. Your head and face will have to make do with the scarf. Nodding once you’re ready, Hunter signals Tech. 

The ship ramp lowers. Your eyes sting in the cold, the air biting at your nose as you breathe. Tech parked the ship a short ways away from a town, in the midst of a barren, ice-coated forest. In an oval around the ship, the snow has melted to reveal a carpet of wet, brown grass underneath. Beyond that, snow blankets the ground in a thin layer. 

During the short walk to the town, you already have to fight to keep your teeth from chattering. You shove your hands under your armpits to keep your fingers warm. More than once, you nearly lose your footing on a slick, hidden stone or other patch of ice, but Wrecker’s steadying hands are always there to catch you from where he brings up the rear of the group.

The town comes into view suddenly through the break in the tree line. Single-story buildings crowd around a central street, with one structure rising another floor above that. Through glass windows, cheery fires and candles flicker, offering the promise of warmth. A shiver wracks through you. You pull the scarf tighter across your face, hoping your exhaled breaths will heat your cold nose. 

“There are two merchants,” Tech calls over his shoulder. “One is Zure, the other is Channi.” 

“Wrecker, take Omega and Tech to Channi,” Hunter orders, his modulated voice slipping easily back into the sergeant role. “Nav and I will find Zure.”

“Stay focused, you two,” Wrecker teases.

It only takes you a few moments after splitting up to find Zure’s shop. A crudely painted sign hangs from squeaky hinges on the outside of one of the nearby buildings, announcing the structure as “Zure’s Furnitures.” The fire in the hearth gutters as the door opens with a pleasant chime, resuming its cozy crackling only after the door is shut once again. Exhaling gratefully into the heated room, you tug the scarf down as Hunter lifts his bucket off his head.

All sorts of furniture pieces are crammed into this tiny, peculiar showroom. Tables of various sizes are topped by chairs, stools, and even beanbags; next to them, cushioned and upholstered recliners lounge, overflowing with multicolored blankets and pillows. Your initial impression is messy, followed closely by dusty. But you spot at least a few pieces in just this cursory glance that you’d like to inspect closer.

An Ithorian emerges from a backroom, a curtain of beads swinging and clacking together in place of a doorway. They speak in their two-mouthed language; a second later, their translator device speaks up. 

“Welcome! New faces are always welcome here at Zure’s,” they say. “I am Zure, of course. How can I help you?” 

You and Hunter exchange a glance, and he gestures for you to take the lead, having had more experience in this realm than he does. 

“Thank you,” you say, stepping forward. “We just moved to a nearby system and were told this was the best place to come for home decor.” 

“How magnificent!” the Ithorian says. You think they smile at you; you can’t really tell with their anatomy. “You heard right. Are you looking for anything in particular?” 

“Oh, we need everything,” you say. “For three houses.” 

The Ithorian makes a trumpeting kind of sound that the translator device offers no explanation of. “By the stars above! What an exciting project. Come, come, I have many styles for many rooms, yes, yes.”

Several hours later, head swirling with entirely too much information about local styles of wood carving and weaving, you stumble out of Zure’s Furnitures, Hunter in tow. Both of you emerge onto the main street, only to come to a halt at the sight of fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifting lazily from the sky. The nearby forest creaks as the wind whips through it, cutting through the protective warmth of the shop you’ve just left behind.

“We need to find the others,” Hunter says, slipping his helmet back on.

You nod. Drawing the scarf over your head once more, you frown in confusion at the blinking light on your vambrace. Had the others been trying to contact you? You hadn’t realized you’d put the comlink on silent. 

Pressing the correct button, you flinch as a piercing emergency signal beeps to life. 

“Kriff!” Hunter settles into a battle-ready stance immediately, drawing his vibroblade. “What—”

“Shhh!” You hold up one finger to silence him, listening intently to the erratic beeps shrieking through your comlink.

Except...it’s not erratic. It’s a message. You concentrate, brow furrowed, until you’re certain what the message reads. 

It’s just five characters on repeat to infinity. S.O.S. 88. S.O.S. 88. S.O.S. 88. 

“What does that mean?” you say, peering up into the darkened visor of Hunter’s bucket. “S.O.S. 88?”

He freezes, as if the cold air and slow-falling snow have hardened his body into an ice sculpture. Several long moments go by as you wait for him to respond, but when he doesn’t show signs of reacting, you rip his bucket off. 

“Hunter?” you say. 

His eyes flit to yours, wide and shocked. “The others.” He shoves his vibroblade back into its sheath. Grabbing your hand, he tugs you back in the direction of the ship. “Need Tech to trace that signal.”

You follow wordlessly, an idea already forming in the pit of your stomach.

Taglist: @the-hexfiles @fjordg @idoubleswearimawriter @skellymom @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

[averagehomosapien]

Kraaph/Sraaph Doodles +Rant

ok, first of all, remember the au I made with the two new alters? These Tendrils Run Deep? Do you remember that??

I sure do! And I’ve been neglecting them, the poor things!😢🥺

Soooo, I have some doodles to compensate! Just of Sraaph tho (the name is a combination of Savage, Krang, and Raph)

The next doodle has it’s left eye blank, similar to Savage’s—I just wanted to see how it looked

Ok, so from here I’m just going to ramble—

Basically Sraaph is a combination of Savage and the possessed Raph from the movie.

That means that it has a lot of issues relating to being left alone—it needs to be lead and for at least one family member to be close at all times—so abandonment issues like regular Raph and Savage.

other than that, Sraaph is quiet, and obedient while in a space it seems as ‘safe’ like the Lair.

outside though, it acts more like how it did in the movie: very violent, prone to bursts of anger, extremely protective of bale, yet also still obedient to it’s bale as well—if one of its brothers were to tell it to stop, it would stop.

honestly, I have ideas for a fanfic with Sraaph and the aftermath of the movie, but the concepts and ideas my mind are coming up with are way too dark and heavy, so I’ll need to tone it down. Not only that, but I would need to do character analysis’ on EVERYONE, which is going to be a hassle.

That is not including the fact I have work to do and that life exists, so it is not likely you’ll see a fic from me anytime soon. My biggest worry would be concerning the characters—I would constantly be wondering if I wrote them correctly, and that would just drive me insane if I didn’t have a beta reader.

I would also need to be confidant in my writing enough to release something; I do love writing, but 1) I only write original stories with my own characters and 2) I’ve never written a fanfic before 😅 Being me, I would also constantly compare my writing to those with great stories—like @debb987 and The Eldest Brother, among others. I know realistically that every skill requires practice and patience, but I am a very lazy and impatient person. Ok, so to summarize: I have an idea I want to write, but don’t have the time nor the patience to write it—at least, it wouldn’t come out anytime soon.

I am also more concerned with at least finishing/giving a satisfying end to Pools of Acceptance, as well as making art. I have many ideas for future projects and gifts to other creators on Tumblr, so look out for that! Too many ideas and too much work(which is honestly my fault because procrastination has me in a chokehold at all times)

on a lighter note, I just want to say thank you to all that like, comment, and reblog my posts! I hoped I would get support eventually, but I never thought it would come so fast, nor that there would be so many of you who liked my art! I’m just greatly appreciative that you all gave me a chance and decided to stay!! I now have more followers than I do posts and i will do something big to commemorate 100 followers! Just know that all of your support gives me the motivation to continue what I’m doing—each and every one of you helps motivate me!

And a final note—I said back in chapter 3 that you would know who hurt baby Raph soon…

uhhhh, honestly the plot is dragging me I have no control over it; basically it might be a while until you guys get confirmation of what hurt baby Raph, so whoops!😬 😅 I’m just having fun with this whole thing! Might take a few chapters till you meet the attacker (doesn’t that sound harsh?) but it might be in the next hmmm…10 chapters?? Like I said, i have no control over the plot and no plan.

Anyway, this post is long enough, so have a great evening/night/day!! See y’a peeps on the weekend!

[happyandticklish]

His Attention

Notes: FINALLY finished this Izzy Hands fic that has been sitting in my drafts since July, that I’ve been procrastinating for literally no reason. I’ve been wanting a fic with lee!Izzy in it forever now, but I wanted to accurately portray how it would work, because Izzy is not exactly,,,,, lee material, and this is definitely the closest I’ve come to it in my attempts lol. As a result, it does end on a rather sad note as he is a rather sad little guy, but regardless, I hope you enjoy the hard work of endless months of putting this off~ 

Summary: Edward is itching to test this supposed new ‘torture method’ Stede keeps advertising, and Izzy is unfortunately left to be his guinea pig. 

Laughter, unmistakably, bounced across the ship, invading the sacred space of Izzy’s cabin. Not an unusual thing to hear, at least not in recent days, not since that fancy idiot had invaded all of their lives. This kind was different than usual though, frantic and pitched, with words scrambling to be heard throughout it.

Izzy pinched his brow together, staring harder at the map before him and forcing himself to focus. He didn’t need to be distracted by whatever stunt Bonnet had pulled now. Maybe they had invited the enemy upon the ship to discuss fine dining, or perhaps they were playing dress-up and putting on a little show—inevitably something inane and not worth his time.

They had gotten lost, as was the usual case with this lot, and Izzy was painstakingly attempting to track their path once more—not that their path was very clear in the first place. Their current ‘plan’ thus far was merely a hobbled together collection of vague promises and ideas. All of which had been stamped for approval by Edward’s stupidly charming grin. It was hard to doubt him when you were met with a face like that.

Izzy had fallen for it one too many times and he didn’t intend to do so again. 

There was a shriek from outside his door, and Izzy started in alarm. That was Edward’s voice. He pushed the map aside, staggering to his feet and slamming open the door, ready to take on any opponents that had dared try to attack his captain.

“Captain, is everything a—”

His words stumbled to a halt as he entered into the broad daylight of the ship. What he found was not a group of attackers, but instead, endlessly annoying Stede Bonnet with his hands gripped over the exposed hips of none other than Blackbeard himself. Edward was curled partially in half as more shrieks slipped out in that choked, gruff manner of his.

Tickling. Fucking tickling.

“Ah, Mr. Hands, how nice of you to join us,” Stede said, tone perfectly casual as though he didn’t have the world’s most feared pirate giggling under his hands. “I was just showing Ed here how we more gentle-natured folks engage in combat. Not with swords and threats, but instead, with fingers and laughter!”

“I-Ihit’s not vehery effehective, m-mate!” Edward had his hands gripped around his wrists and was attempting to tug Stede’s hands away, though he didn’t seem as determined as he could be. “T-Thihis is n-nohothing!”

“Nothing, is it? Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I moved back to your ribs then, would you? That seemed to be a pretty effective spot earlier, if I remember correctly. Specifically, if I vibrate my fingers like this—”

The two seemed entirely lost in their own world, Stede staring down at Ed like the sight of him snorting and bucking in his hands was the most incredible thing he had ever seen. The whole thing felt so intimate and childish at the same time, and Izzy couldn’t help but avert his gaze, like he’d walked into something far more risqué than just tickling.

The rest of the crew didn’t seem to have the same problem with it. A couple of them smiled over at the scene, but they seemed otherwise entirely unfazed.

Fucking useless.

“Are these…” Izzy gestured vaguely at the scene. “Childish antics the ‘cutting edge new strategy’ you had to show the Captain, Bonnet? I hardly see the merit in tickling.”

The word was strange on his tongue, one he hadn’t used for many years now. It felt out of place considering the setting. Tickling was for children and lovers, a silly, frivolous thing that had no right gracing the ship.

“Now, that’s what Ed said at first.” Carefully, Stede pulled his hands away, leaving Edward to sag against the side of the ship with an exhausted grin on his face. Izzy tried hard not to stare at the sight. “However, let me put you in a scenario. Let’s say you have a prisoner, or a hostage of sorts, and you’re trying to get information out of him. You could torture him with pain and mutilation—”

“Always a fan of that myself,” Ed chimed in.

“But I’ve found that a gentler approach can work wonders, if done correctly. No blood, no mess, and no visible wounds or injuries if you were to ransom him back. Not to mention, no one wants to admit that they’ve fallen victim to a bit of tickling—not when you have your reputation to uphold.”

Stede beamed back at Izzy as though he wasn’t rambling nonsense. Izzy’s brow narrowed just slightly.

“I didn’t believe him at first either,” Edward said, noticing the look on Izzy’s face. He flushed just a tad at the memory, scratching the back of his neck. “But it’s actually pretty effective. When in the right hands.”

Ed and Stede exchanged smiling glances dripping with not-so-subtle affection and Izzy barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

It had been like this for the past several weeks, all jokes and touching and secret looks exchanged in-between words. Izzy would have said something by now if it weren’t for the look in Edward’s eyes when he stared at Stede, like he’d been sailing in a storm all his life and now the clouds had finally parted to reveal perfectly blue skies. He was happy, or at least whatever version of happy he could grasp for himself after so many years of hardship. Izzy didn’t want to take that from him—not yet, anyway. No matter how much Izzy’s heart tugged with a feral jealousy that threatened to destroy him.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone neutral as he said, “Well, if you’re quite finished playing, I need to borrow Blackbeard to look over our route. I’ve managed to get us back on track, but—”

“Yes, yes, yes, all of that,” Edward interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll look at it, no need to get your knickers in a twist, mate. Thanks for the lesson, Stede—although don’t think I won’t be trying it out myself once I get back. After all, we should make sure it works on all pirates, wouldn’t you agree?”

A bright crimson swept across Stede’s face, and he stammered out an unintelligible reply, before nodding back quickly. The bastard looked excited about the threat, of course. Izzy stalked off towards his cabin before the writhing in his gut could get any worse. Edward trailed behind him lazily, humming a low, grumbly tune that was reminiscent of a variety of different sea shanties all smushed together into a chaotic medley—clearly unbothered at having been seen in such an intimate state, as though it were nothing for the great Blackbeard to be ticklish.

The door swung shut behind him with a resounding thud, and Izzy exhaled, grateful to be left alone at last, and finally get to work on something useful for once—

“You know, he has a point.”

—or not.

Edward was staring at him in that intense way of his, the stare that said his all-encompassing attention had focused directly on you. Izzy would have given up several limbs to have that stare on him for even a moment normally, but now it sent prickly, uncomfortable heat shooting down his spine. Still, he didn’t dare look away.

“How do you mean, sir?”

“You know, we always rely on torture, stabbing, slicing, burning, water-boarding—it gets boring after a while.” Edward hopped onto Izzy’s desk, knocking over a bottle of ink in the process. Izzy’s hand twitched in brief annoyance, but he kept quiet in the interest of peace. “And nothing like that would ever break a real pirate. Certainly you could handle anything I put those shmucks through and still be kicking.”

Pride shot through Izzy like a bullet at the words, but he quickly shoved it down before it could surface too clearly on his face. “Of course. I wouldn’t call myself Blackbeard’s first mate if I couldn’t.”

“But there’s something to be said for this ‘tickle torture’ as he called it.” Edward’s gaze was distant and glowing with ideas. “So simple to do, and it leaves no marks, so there’s hardly any evidence. Plus, there’d be no risk of injuring the body.”

It was clear he wasn’t going to let this go until it had run its course, so Izzy sighed and decided to indulge the concept, if only to secure Edward’s attention later. “Sure, but could it really be classified as torture? I mean, it’s a child’s game. Nothing as innocent as that could truly break someone.”

“So you’re saying you could resist it?” Edward continued, leaning forward on the desk, his interest piqued. “I mean, think about it Iz, really think about it. All vulnerable, tied up, not a chance of escape, having to endure hours upon hours of fingers and feathers scouring every inch of your exposed skin, nothing to do but take it?”

His words raced with a strange urgency, and Izzy couldn’t help but find himself drawn in as he imagined it. He could almost feel it, the bubbly, electric sensation crawling across his nerves and sending goosebumps scattering over his skin. He resisted the urge to shudder and brush away the imaginary touch. Instead, he settled on a compromise, crossing his arms and subtly covering up said vulnerable spots.

“Of course I could,” he replied sharply, hating the way his ears tinged pink at the question. He refused to believe it was due to embarrassment, and blamed it on the summer heat instead. “It’s only tickling.”

“Willing to make a bet out of it?”

Izzy’s heart stopped and it took him a second to respond as he tried to jumpstart it back into motion. Eventually he managed to stutter out a weak, “A bet?”

“Ten minutes. I get to tickle you for ten minutes, and if you can resist, I’ll admit it’s stupid and you’ll never have to hear about it again.”

Izzy scoffed, rolling his eyes and trying not to let his nerves show too obviously. “Edward, please. We’re not kids anymore.”

“Fine.” Edward shrugged. “I’ll just know it’s because you can’t do it, because deep down, you know I’m right, Izzy. Which, if you’re still as ticklish as you used to be, I can’t blame you for.”

Izzy fought back another blush at the memory, wiggling fingers and restrained smiles dissolving into frantic laughter that seemed to echo for miles. There was a playful glimmer in Edward’s smile, and it reminded Izzy of a simpler time, years ago back when the former’s beard was merely a thought and hope still shone in his eyes—hope that maybe they could do something with their lives instead of just waste away in a nothing town for the rest of time.

Many times before had Izzy attempted to bring that look back, each of which had failed until now. Of course, he had a feeling that Stede was most of the reason for it. It was undeniable that the strange, slightly eccentric man brought him joy for reasons Izzy would never understand. Still, it was nice to see him happy again—happy enough to tease Izzy like he used to, anyway.

He decided to blame it on that when he answered. “If I agree,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes and emphasizing the if. “Not only do you admit that tickling is a fool's game, but I get your attention for the rest of the day. No antics, no silly gimmicks, no children’s stories. Just you, me and a map.”

“Done.”

“And you have to make sure the crew is actually working, too.”

“Done.”

“And you’ll actually help me come up with a plan this time, not some crazed idea that you pull out your ass and decide to share with no one—”

“Done, done, done, and done,” Edward interrupted, waving one hand. “All of that and more. The ship will be in tip-top shape by the time we’re done with it. If you agree. So? What’s it gonna be, mate?”

Izzy hesitated for a second too long before he nodded. He told himself his reluctance was caused by annoyance at the stupid idea. He wouldn’t allow for the possibility that it was due to any kind of repressed anxiety. It was just tickling—nothing more. Besides, there was no evidence to suggest he even was ticklish anymore. Perhaps it had faded with time.

Izzy desperately clung onto that hope as Edward approached him. His walk was almost cat-like as he backed Izzy against the wall, like a lion stalking their prey—all smooth movements and assured glances.

“Arms up, Mr. Hands.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Would you rather Israel?”

Izzy exhaled in resigned irritation, raising his arms with little preamble. That was when Edward’s hand closed about his wrists. Without thinking, Izzy tugged, trying to pull his hands down.

They didn’t budge.

He swallowed audibly.

“You seem nervous,” Edward noted. He was making a point to catch Izzy’s gaze, holding it until Izzy was forced to look away. It was humiliating. And something else. Something he didn’t want to think about. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you nervous before. It’s a nice look—humbles your normally obstinate face.”

In defiance, Izzy shifted his features into something undeniably obstinate. “Of course you have, Edward,” he replied tiredly. “I’m always nervous. It’s impossible not to be when you have a maniac for a captain.”

“Oh, exasperated, sure,” Edward admitted. “Deeply concerned, almost every day. But not nervous.”

Izzy huffed, shifting underneath him. He was too close, and Izzy could smell the sea on him—and that twat’s perfume. “Just get it over with already. I don’t have all day.”

“Always so impatient,” Edward hummed. Despite this, he complied with his wishes. Izzy tensed when he felt Edward’s free hand come to rest on his hip, toying with the hem of his vest. And then all at once slipping under it.

“What are you—!?”

“Relax.” Edward’s hand was warm against his skin, and Izzy hated how nice it felt. “You’re not gonna feel a thing through all that leather. You want to win fairly, don’t you? I’d be the last one to peg Izzy Hands as a cheater.”

The implication sent a spark of defiance through him and he tilted his chin up subconsciously. “Of course not. I just want our intentions to be clear. I’m not like him.”

Edward’s eyes crinkled up in amusement, the gesture far too much like pity. “I know, Izzy. You never were.”

Before Izzy had time to parse through his words, Edward’s hand twitched and his mouth clamped shut in quick defense. It was barely a movement, barely anything really, but it was enough to set Izzy’s nerves on edge.

Gently, Edward’s fingers wiggled against the soft skin of his hip, curling against the bone. Izzy inhaled sharply, unable to help it. It didn’t tickle, exactly. It was more of an itch, and Izzy had the inexplicable urge to swat him away.

Not that he could do that with his hands out of the way.

For almost a minute it was just that, light, quick touches that made him tense, but nothing he wasn’t able to handle. At first, Izzy had assumed he wasn’t taking this seriously. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or grateful for that.

By the second minute, however, he caught onto Edward’s game. What had started as an itch was turning into something far more… well, something. Something that made Izzy’s arm tug against his grip. He hadn’t upped his pace once, but the repetition of it all was getting to Izzy. He found himself jerking back before Edward had even touched him, glaring at the smirk he was greeted with every time.

“Is this really your plan?”

“What do you mean?” Edward’s hand slipped and fingers were exchanged for nails, gliding over the bump of skin. A shudder coursed its way down Izzy’s back. “Is this not effective?”

Izzy shifted slightly, trying his best to be subtle about it and failing. “If this is how you plan on winning, you’re doing a miserable job of it. What would you like to start on first tonight—navigation or the rations that have, at least as far as I’m aware of, never been stocked since this new crew of yours boarded the ship?”

“Ah, ah, ah, Izzy, ye of little faith.”

The fingers tempo sped up just slightly and Izzy coughed to cover up the startled noise that had just escaped him. The whole act was bordering on the edge of being genuinely ticklish—something Izzy absolutely could not allow if he was to get through this. In theory, provided Edward did not move past this stage, Izzy could hold out for a mere ten minutes. However, the threat of him going further was making him jumpy, which could be bad.

“You know, laughing doesn’t disqualify you.” His voice was barely even a whisper, but each word rang clear to Izzy, settling a knot of unease at the base of his spine. “Nor does all this twitching you keep doing. So if I were you, I would stop wasting all my energy on that and save some for when I start to get really serious.”

Izzy had plans to ignore the offer stubbornly, but a sudden squeeze to his hips let out a choked noise that was almost, almost, a giggle. Not enough that he would ever in a million life times admit to it though. The flush already present on his face spread out further, till it felt like his whole body was burning up with some strange new form of fever.

You’re not ticklish, that isn’t you, he told himself, useless words of affirmation to try to bear through the flurry of soft pinches he was being assaulted with. He knew he was smiling, a wobbly, giddy thing that he tried and failed to mask. Maybe he could get through this by smiling. Just one smile, and that was the last of what he would allow himself.

The touch scribbled around his hips to the base of his lower back and Izzy jerked forward, nearly knocking Edward aside. The latter let out a low, grumbly chuckle; it was the same one he greeted his opponent with when he knew he had bested them. “Ah mate, I think you’ve revealed a little bit too much there. I was worried that maybe the same spots wouldn’t work, but it seems like you haven’t grown out of anything.”

Each glide of Edward’s fingers sent his stomach pitching, squeezing tighter and tighter till he felt as though he would burst if he didn’t laugh or scream or cry or something really soon. A build-up of kinetic energy with no outlet, all rearing to escape. Goosebumps rippled out from one another, making Izzy unbearably area of each new sensation. Fingers scuttled patiently over that same spot, lazy, crawling circles in the dip of his back that made his face scrunch up in protest. It was awful and pleasant all at the same time and Izzy found himself edging closer to giving in with each second that drifted by.

“Ed, c-c’mon—”

“Are you giving in?”

Scratching that same fucking spot. “N—ahA, mhmm n-no. No.”

“Good. I would hate to think you would give up the game so early. We still have a whole seven minutes left to go and I intend to spend my time with it.”

Seven minutes. Even ten minutes hadn’t seemed like that long of a time when they had started, but now even the threat of those seven minutes made him feel like throwing in the towel in right then and there. He had forgotten how much things could tickle, how sensitive skin could be, how helpless it was to be pinned like this.

And how wonderful. Pride might have let him surrender by now, but Edward’s attention, Edward’s touch, Edward’s smile directed at him, delighting in him, was too good a promise to give up now.

It wasn’t anything big that broke him, just that same ever light touch on that same ever sensitive spot on his back, but finally Izzy’s lips crackled up into a full grin, a series of huffy breaths and giggles slipping out.

“F-Fuhuck ohof Edward, c’mohohon.”

“Tickle, Iz?”

Izzy couldn’t even fight off the tease, too much of him melting into how nice it felt. He had spent so many weeks now watching Edward’s attention become entirely captivated by that idiot and now, finally, had found something to divert it back to him. Even if it meant giving up his pride. Even if it meant letting himself giggle in front of fucking Blackbeard. 

He couldn’t risk a protest ending this just yet.

So instead, he let out a growl to indicate that yes, it very much tickled, thank you, and squeezed his eyes shut to try to bear his way through this. Edward’s hand was moving up now, edging towards the back of his ribs, and Izzy arched forward with a noise that was in no way, shape, or form a whine, trying to avoid its path.

“Now this,” Edward commented, a note of awe in his voice. “This is almost worth it, even if you don’t give in. I should thank Stede for reminding me of this method, I had nearly forgotten how effective it is on you. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a genuine smile on your face, let alone heard you laugh. You should consider yourself lucky I can’t reach your feet in this position, or I’m sure the sounds you’d make would make me inclined to keep you here forever.”

Izzy’s toes curled in his boots at the mere threat and he thanked any deity that might be out there for that small mercy at least. This was already bad enough as is. Edward was slowly climbing up his ribs in an ascent that sent his nerves on high alert about their end destination. It was strange; it had been so long since he’d been tickled that he couldn’t actively remember where he was ticklish, but instinct provided him with a pretty good radar for it. Each step that Edward’s fingers took sent a bolt of energy through him and he found himself jerking at his trapped arms with increasing desperation.

Worse yet was the anticipation that sent laughter tumbling freely out of his mouth, silly and frantic and bubbly in a way that Izzy Hands, First Mate, Blackbeard’s righthand man, simply wasn’t. He couldn’t even attempt to stop it either, so focused was he on doing anything to keep those hands away from under his arms.

“Ehehehedward, yohohou dohohon’t—gahhAHA w-wahait, you dohon’t—shihit lihihisten to mehehe!”

Edward cocked a brow, deliberately teasing the spaces in-between his topmost ribs. “Yeah? I don’t want? I’m really trying to listen mate, but I can’t hear you through all that whimpering.”

Izzy was going to bash his head in when he got out of this, tear out his fingers piece by piece so they could never do the world anymore damage. Quite possibly he was going to pin Edward down and show him just how much this shit fucking tickled so he would think twice before doing this to anyone else—because there was no way he would still be going if he knew just how badly Izzy needed him to stop.

Even more possibly, Izzy was going to lock himself up in his quarters when this was done and spend the rest of the day trying to wipe the stupid smile off of his face and convince himself he hadn’t enjoyed it in the slightest.

When Edward’s fingers finally reached their goal, Izzy thought it was probable he had ascended to another plane. A shriek slipped out, followed by a snort and finally a round of tumbling cackles that shook his whole frame. He knew better than to try to fight his way out so instead he threw his head back and gave into the laughter and the helplessness and the pleasant embarrassment radiating throughout his form.

Had he always been this ticklish? It hardly seemed likely as he was sure he would have gone mad from all the times Edward had pinned him down just like this back in the day.

And yet, for some reason, he didn’t hate it.

He wasn’t sure what to do with that.

A thumb digging into just the right spot was what did him in. One thumb, and a yelp of pure panic slipped out as Izzy thumped back against the wall giggling out a plea for mercy. Edward let go of him so fast Izzy was sure he must have imagined the whole thing from his now casual stance a couple feet away. Izzy sunk to the ground gratefully, gulping in air greedily as the last of his laughter slowly receded. His arms were wrapped around himself in a hug that he knew must have looked stupid, but he couldn’t help it. Phantom sensations crawled up and down his sides, making him twitchy and jittery as he tried to calm his nervous system.

“Torturous, isn’t it?”

Izzy scoffed, which was as much admittance as Edward was going to be getting out of him anytime soon. He nearly found himself hoping that Edward would demand a better answer, that he would insist he hadn’t ‘fulfilled his end of the bargain’, and pin him down for a flailing round two.

Instead, Edward merely rolled his eyes fondly, strolling over to the desk and calmly righting the spilled ink container, as though no time had passed since their earlier conversation.

“I’ll have to let Stede know that his methods work even on the most reputable and feared of pirates,” Edward mused, tossing a glance back at his flustered state. “I thought I was bad, but you looked like you would have bit off my head if I had let you.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t,” Izzy hissed, perhaps with more venom than he needed to. The introduction of Stede’s name made him prickly. Even now, seconds after Edward had just finished turning Izzy into a pile of goop on the ground, he still couldn’t take his mind off of Stede. He wanted to stand up and grab Edward’s chin, force his wistful eyes away from the door where they had strayed and back towards him. “That was a pity win at best, something to get you to shut up about it so I don’t have to spend the whole day hearing about the Amazing Stede and his wonderful tickling know-how.”

“A pity win.” And Edward did look at him then, but with a skepticism that made Izzy’s shoulders creep in defensively. “You mean to tell me you put yourself through all that just for my sake?”

“I didn’t say that—!”

“I’m touched, Iz, I really am. But next time, all you have to do is ask, no need to be so roundabout with it.”

Izzy gaped at him as Edward shot him a sly wink, pushing open the door and pausing with an endeared chuckle as he went to rejoin Stede and the others across the ship. Hardly a minute later, laughter echoed across the ship, sending a pang of envy through the former that he didn’t have the strength to lie to himself about.

Eight minutes. The first time Edward had really touched him with any kind of affection in nearly five years, and it had lasted eight minutes. The memory of the tickling had faded into a distant ache now, a mere imprint of what it had felt like to have Edward’s hands on him, to have his fingers wrapped securely around his wrists.

The hands that were taking their revenge on Stede at that very moment if the boisterous, desperate laughter booming across the ship was anything to go off of.

Izzy leaned his head against the back of the wall with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair to fix the mess it had become. “Get a hold of yourself, Israel.”

He stayed there for an additional five minutes before finally forcing himself up to work on the leftover paperwork sitting on his desk.

Alone, as always.

[justlittleguysims]

Project: Untitled WIP

Chapter 1. Part 5 - A Bit of Clarity

Read Part 1 || Continue Reading Under The Cut

Derek returned to his seat, taking Morgan slightly by surprise while she was in mid-bite of her scrambled eggs.

“Did you know it was graduation day at the university today?” He asked her.

Morgan hid her full mouth behind her free hand for a moment, as she tried to speed through her chewing. “Yeah," She said once she finished her bit. "I thought everyone knew that. Traffic’s been terrible all day? Why?”

“Everything is booked for the night, you know, with families from out of town.”

“Oh... and probably some for Christmas next week.”

“Yeah, RIGHT! So… I made a call —and if this makes you uncomfortable, I totally understand— but… you can come stay at my house tonight."

Morgan froze, placing her fork down on her plate.

"I already called home and my daughter, Angelica, is fixing things up for you.”

“Is the Misses okay with you bringing home random women off the street?” Morgan pointed to the wedding ring in his hand with her fork.

Derek looked at his hand, fidgeting with the ring as he formed his words, “oh, no… I’m just a sentimental widower, I guess.”

“Oh…um, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Really... but you on the other hand, you don’t really have many options left for the night,” Derek continued. “So, my daughter is setting up a space for you in our spare room. It IS in our basement, but it’s fully finished. Don't worry. We have heat down there, and we already had all of Angie’s old bedroom furniture down there from her room renovation last year, so it’s no trouble at all. We just need to shuffle a few boxes around and lay out some fresh bed sheets."

Derek chuckled at himself for a brief moment, "What do you know, me procrastinating on donating all her old things turned out to be a good thing.”

“Um… okay… I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Derek repeated in confusion.

“I don’t know… it’s just, uh…”

“I’m a stranger trying to take you to sketchy third place? Yeah, I know, I know.”

“Okay, THAT and… you know?”

“Know what?”

“Come on, you know.”

“I don’t think I do.” He sat and thought for a bit more. “Is this about COVID? I have tests at home.”

Morgan rolled her eyes with an annoyed groan. “I know you know!” she said, gesturing very broadly at herself.

“You’re what- you’re… a drug mule carrying product? Is that why you're on the run?” Derek said in a low, hushed, jokey tone, leaning in so a nearby busser couldn’t hear.

“What? NO!”

Derek thought a little harder. “A sex worker???" He whispered. "Not that it's a problem, but were you working the streets when-”

“NO!” She snapped, then whispered back in frustration. “BUT… what’s a third, secretive minority on the fringes of society? We’re in the news a lot. Right-wing politicians hate us?”

“Uh… isn’t that, like, most people? I, I don’t-”

Morgan groaned in annoyance. She then leaned forward and whispered with an anxious look on her face, her voice quiet and hesitant, “I’m trans.”

“Oh.” Derek sat back, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? OKAY?”

“Well, yeah... it doesn’t matter who or what you are, you can’t stay outside, you’ll freeze!”

“You’re not worried?”

“About what?”

“About WHAT? About ME!"

“Do I have something I need to be worried about... pertaining to you, as an individual?”

“Uh… no. But a lot of people seem to worry.”

“Well…” Derek paused for dramatic effect as he leaned forward once again. “I’m not ‘a lot of people,’ Morgan... I’m just one guy.”

“Oh–my-GOD!” Morgan broke out into a wheezing laugh.

“Aye, you liked that one?”

“NO! God, you really are a dad, huh.”

“And I’m proud of it, dammit.” Derek said in a gravelly, southern accent.

“So… this isn’t a problem.”

“You’re not a ‘problem.’” Derek reassured her, “Listen, you’ve cried on me, I’ve already driven you here, I’ve made phone calls for you —I’m apparently paying for four plates of food for you, good lord— safe to say, I’m pretty damn invested here.”

Morgan sunk down into her seat, while munching away at a slice of toast. “It’s not my fault they brought my toast and fruit salad out on their own separate plates.”

“Oh, alright.”

“And the pancakes were included in the meal, so don’t give me that!”

Derek chuckled, “Okay, okay. Fine! How is everything anyway?”

“So good! I can’t even remember the last time I’ve eaten this much.”

“Damn. That's-that's tough.”

“It's okay... Do-do you want some of these,” Morgan pointed at the uneaten stack of pancakes in front of her, “I don’t think I can eat it all.”

Derek briefly mulled it over, “You know what? Sure. I’m paying for it anyway.”

Morgan took a knife that she had placed neatly on top of a folded napkin beside her main plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and carefully cut the 3 pancakes she had into quarters. She then slid a little glass bottle of syrup and one of the two little plastic packets of butter spread she was given, closer to his side of the table. Derek helped himself to a pancake, picking a piece up with his hands, pouring a drizzle of syrup on top and taking a bite. He chewed for a moment, stopping with a slight wince, then continued to chew.

“Does this… does this have blueberries, pecans, and chocolate chip in it?”

Morgan looked down at the plate, bashfully. “You said I could order whatever I wanted.”

“Yeah… but three pancake add-ins… in this economy?”

Morgan snorted, trying to hold in her laughter as she took her final sip of decaf.

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[writingquestionsanswered]

How do I actually finish a final draft? I'm working completely independently on a comic book and I'm at the point where I know what needs to be fixed, but it just feels so tedious to go in and edit once again because I feel like if I don't reread it completely, I'll miss something. I feel like I've reread it so many times I'm bored by it and can't actually finish the final draft, especially for *just* issue 1. I've tried writing other issues but it just feels like procrastination. help what do

Struggling to Complete Final Edit

Final edits can be the toughest, because you're SO CLOSE to being finished, and you've been through it so many times, you just want to be done with it.

First, I think you have to take a step back and really consider whether one more read through is really that necessary. Unfortunately, that's a game you can play until the end of time, so at some point you have say enough is enough. I've you've already read through it a few times and know what needs to be fixed, I think you have to give yourself permission to just go in and make the necessary changes without completely re-reading. Another thing you can try is making the changes, then going back and re-reading and doing any final touch-ups as you go.

Some things to try to make another read-through bearable: -- Step away for a bit. It sounds like you've already done this, but it's worth repeating for others. Even if it's just for a day or two, setting it aside can give you a much-needed breather and help you come back to it with fresh eyes.

-- Read it out loud. This can actually be very helpful in allowing you to spot issues you didn't catch in previous reads. Try pretending you're doing a reading for fans or performing the audiobook.

-- Change the font color. This is another trick that can help errors stand out more, but like reading it out loud, it's also just an easy way to make it feel new and fresh to your eyes which can cut back on the tedium a bit.

-- Read it in an unusual place. It's best to find someplace that's comfortable and reasonably free from distractions, but also not someplace where you'll feel too cozy and feel sleepy. Just moving to another room in your home can help, or you might try sitting outside (such as a porch, patio, or backyard--just watch out for rain!) If you're able to, try a library, bookstore, or cafe. Public areas like parks, picnic areas, scenic views/trailheads, etc. are good options--just be sure to be safe.

-- Take turns reading it with a trusted friend or family member. If there's someone you trust to read it, who would enjoy reading it and has the time/ability to help out, try making a little party of it and taking turns reading it. If you can get together, you can put out some fun food and drink, sit at a table or on the couch and take turns reading pages or scenes. If you can't get together, you can encourage them to get some snacks and do it as a video call or phone call--just don't forget to send them a copy to read from.

-- Last but not least, if none of these work for you, you'll just have to brute force it. As with all jobs we don't want to do, remember that the thought of doing the work is always worse than actually doing it. Once you get going and find a rhythm, you'll probably find it's not nearly as bad as you expected. Try setting up rewards for yourself along the way, like allowing yourself to have a favorite meal when you get to the halfway point, and going to see a movie you're looking forward to once you get to the end. You can even do smaller rewards like having a bowl of ice cream after you've worked on it for an hour each night. Whatever works! In the end, you just have to remember you've put a lot of work into this project, and you're so close to being done, it's worth it to keep going!

I hope something her will work for you!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[unsleepingtales]

Episode four! I missed the bad kid’s insanity so much <3

Episode four of every season they’re shy!

In space no one can feel you dying 💀

“What’s the drinking age?” “You guys have murdered SO many people”

Kalinaaaaaa

Hiiiii

Oh she’s an actual cat now!

She/they pronouns for Cassandra are back!

Kristen’s middle name is on her character page now!! Kristen Chilis Applebees!

Catchin me on my left foot hereeee gato.

Ooh they’ve got other offers

Why would you SAY that

That definitely circumvents the truth in a cool way……

When your only two followers fight :(

Just stop saying it pleaseeeeee

Say a n y t h i n g other than that

Hot.

Oooh the mall!

Why would you SAY THAT

So many of them have stars in their hats! And I have stars in my body! :D

I love Cassandra so so much

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Kristen when you’re in the dark she’s there holding your hand. She gives you forehead kisses

KVX BANK????

Oh well that makes it all okay then!

:(

Oh my GOD

What the fuck Bill

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God the fucking. D20 directly reflecting my life experiences.

Simeon du Vayne the new lunch lad. What’s your vibe

Ooh third eye is sick

I love that they’re never gonna say her name right

Scabby!!

Gorthalax! Hi!

On my first day of high school this guy yelled fresh meat at all of us and he continued to be a pain in the ass all fucking year

Fig. Fig no.

It does seem like the rat grinders might be direct foils to the bad kids. Let’s see how this goes!

Kipperlilly did not come at y’all nearly as hard as Kristen went aggro at her

Is it the sack of rats trick?? Is that where they got the name???

IT IS THE SACK OF RATS TRICK. FUCK.

I love how pissed they all are about this

THIS is what riz has never been more mad about ❤️

Girlie!!

The bad guy this season is just xp leveling 😭😭

God how high level are they????

Kindlesnap Whatsherface

Dome!!!!

He’s just a guy!

Please please nat 20

Crushing. That’s crushing

I love ripped jeans gorgug <3

That is SO much

Corsica Jones is HOT

Kristen and Riz dynamic duoooo

Riz Gukgak character of all time

FIG

Archaeologist Siobhan Thompson!!

Really emphasizing the ‘sorry what’ thing that post was talking about

Fig barbarian level!

That energy is more intense than anything fig tried to imply from goldenhoard

If the cig figs break up I’m gonna be fucking devastated

Oh yeah the junior year eggs. Okay.

Can I have some of your girlfriend’s hair? I need it for school.

I love that we all called the kill mum idea

She really should get paid for the elven oracle shit

Inclusive kinggggg

Ooh maybe I’ll wear my owlbears sweatshirt tomorrow. (Best holiday gift I got!

Ah the epic highs and lows of high school bloodrush

Max Durden!! He’s so cute.

Love that for him tbh

THIRTY FIVE

Who is this motherfucker

What the fuck are you doing

(Zac wheezing in excruciating pain)

Don’t align yourself with her Riz

What!

I love that everyone is going so aggro on the buttcrushers. Absolutely demolish their asses.

“You don’t have to call me coach” oh OUCH

Bucky Applebees!!!

Love the paladin repppppp

Oh kiddo

Oh Kiddo :(

I’m not trying to be cool I’m trying to be president

RATGRINDERS CLERIC IS HELIOIC

The BUTTFUCKERS? ALLY.

She’s had a lot of jobs but not that many of them were… legal.

Fabian’s so lonely :(

Bad kids study party!!! Real and confirmed!!!!

Aww I was so excited for Adaine to work at Basrar’s but the mall is fun too

Hmm. Sketchy!

German shepherd mode <3

Emily and Ally are having SO much fun with this

The procrastination is so fucking real

I’ve deeply missed you

WHAT what does that mean why is this the case

Oooh okay I’m really getting the sense that that blue mall battle set is the Synod

Sunglass kiosk. Palm tree. Mall things.

Ooh I just noticed seacaster manor in the background of the dome art

Strudel dimension, don’t put your hand in it. Don’t! Put your hand in it!

We don’t know if the strudel is infinite it just hasn’t ended yet.

I’m obsessed with this guy.

I’m so obsesssed

Mazey Phaedraaaaa

Oh my godddddddd

“I’m from hell” girly I love you to death but you are from downtown elmville

Ooohohohohoh she’s good at this

I love dnd mechanics manifesting as real elements of life within game

Awww

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That’s SO SICK I LOVE HER

Ragh!!!

Babe you cannot make student government cool. You just can’t.

Oooooof

What is this energy

Crab kinggggggg

We’re so fucking back

I’m Christian Delnore and I have Children!

OOP

Kristen’s energy is SO wild this year. She said she was trying to move past chaos and then came out the gate with This energy

Tracker’s dating the fucking Princess. Of course.

Messy high school relationships :)

That’s how it goes!

The intense side eye I am giving the whole situation

Kristen do you wanna fuck Kalina

What do you want with the president??? (To say hi)

Hell yeah gsa member Kristen Applebees

Torek with the button press!

I love them SO much I missed the bad kids SO FUCKING MUCH

Ohhhh this is the backstory of that button from the merch drop ok

They’re so unhinged

WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT

Torek Railgrinder Theater Kid!!

Oh noooo

WHAT

Oh fuck

Why would you volunteer ANY information

She was a fucking turncoatttt

The name keeps getting further and further from anything

Stone cold

So excited for the party

HOT

SHE’S SO HOT

Oh god

Zero separation of church and state

Oh FUCK

What oh no oh god please no

AAAAAAAAAAA okay I guess next weeks is the mall fight!

I am so scared and so excited.

It’s our time! It’s our year! It’s all gonna be okay!

[anashins]

hello i’m not sure if ure still taking requests or if ure comfortable in writing this but may request a jaehyun comfort fic on reader pushing herself too hard on studying to the point of passing out or at least not taking care of herself HHHHH i’ve been drowned with stuff lately and i needed a comfort fic 🥲 if ure uncomfy i would totally understand, u can just ignore this !

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: comfort, fluff

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I hope I'm not too late! Good luck on your studies 💗

You knew how many countries earth officially counted: 195. Not included were The Cook Islands and Niue, dependencies and Areas of Special Sovereignty as well as other countries recognized by the UN as not being self-governing.

You knew that the longest instance of someone holding their breath without inhaling pure oxygen beforehand was 11 minutes and 34 seconds. Most people could safely hold their breath for only 1 or 2 minutes.

You also even knew that Cleopatra was not Egyptian as opposed to common belief. Cleopatra VII, which was her formal name, was Greek and a descendant of Alexander the Great’s Macedonian general Ptolemy.

Yes, you had learned all these things and many more during your time in school and university. But what you had never learned in all these years, from childhood until young adulthood, was how to start studying ahead at a proper time and not cram everything into the last weeks, and only because you heard your classmates boasting about how far they had already come with the subjects. You didn’t know whether they were usually speaking the truth though, but it put you under so much pressure that you immediately pulled out your books with the intention to finally start reviewing to catch up. 

Yet, here you were again, one week before the exams, trying to get months of stuff into your head and almost pulling your hair because you weren’t so sure how that was supposed to work. Years of procrastination and you still didn’t know better. Perhaps, that was just how life was, and since you had never failed a subject so far, you didn’t see a reason to change this. Your absolute toxic trait.

“It’s me.”

You started up from your sleep by a soft voice and a tap on your shoulder. Your eyes needed a few moments to adjust to the new lightning in your surroundings. Only shortly before, it had been bright outside, your gaze glued to the sunset which you were able to observe from your window. Now, it was almost pitch black outside.

“You slept in,” Jaehyun said as he switched on a light. “I was passing by, so I thought I might check up on you.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry that I’ve been so inconsistent with texting and calling and just…” He pressed a kiss on the parting of your hair and a heavy feeling weighed down your heart. “...an overall awful girlfriend. I’ve been studying ever since. It just… doesn’t seem to end.”

You looked at your notes in front of you. Within half a day, you hadn’t even gotten the entire page full and there was still one folder to revise until you finally got to the actual study part. No wonder, if you slept during the day, you could only work at night, but your brain wouldn’t adjust to this new biorhythm.

Jaehyun rustled with something, and only now you spotted the plastic bag in his hand. Out of it, he pulled a coke can, cold coffee, a bag of chips and chocolate. He had placed another, bigger one on your nightstand from where you could smell the delicious scent of food. Immediately, you felt your mouth watering. When did you last eat something proper? You couldn’t remember.

“This was not only passing by,” you concluded. “You came on purpose and prepared.”

“Guilty.” Jaehyun shrugged and smiled. “I know you, I also know how you are when you have to study. If you’re not going to take care of yourself, I’ll do it.”

He was so precious, you didn’t deserve him. How would you even get through your stuy phase if Jaehyun wasn’t by your side? You stretched out your arms and wrapped them around his hair. Since you were still sitting and he was standing, he was able to pat your head in a reassuring gesture. 

You didn’t have to say anything, he totally understood. How angry you were at all this work and at yourself. How much hatred you carried around, because you were so close to dropping out again, but for sure wouldn’t do it in the end. He also didn’t try to change the way you were. He accepted your not so ideal quirks and your long phases of hibernation and distancing, because you never learned from your faults. And he supported you all the way through with the best he could offer.

“You hungry?” Jaehyun asked and you nodded, still buried in his t-shirt. “I brought something delicious, let’s eat.”

It was 11pm as you could tell by your phone, so you had approximately slept for 6 hours already. This was going to be a long night, and you only allowed yourself this short break because Jaehyun was here. But even after you had finished, he didn’t leave.

“I’m going to help you with your studies,” he declared solemnly.

“How?” You were perplexed. “And why?”

“Why? because I love you and want to support you. How? I’m going to ask you questions and you need to answer them correctly.”

“I’m not even done revising everything yet,” you protested.

“You don’t have to be. Let’s just go through the first notes and see if you remember them already. If you do this regularly, you don't have to start from the beginning when you’re done revising the subjects. And if you repeat them over and over again, it will be easier to remember.”

That didn’t sound so bad, so you nodded. “Okay.”

“And for each question that you get right,” Jaehyun added, “you’ll get a reward.”

You turned keen-eared. “What would that be?” 

“A kiss.”

“And if I get them wrong?”

“A spank.”

“Now we’re getting to the interesting part.”

[kisara-kaiba]

Hello, I love your blueshipping fics and I was wondering if you’ve ever written mizushipping? How do any of your mizushipping head-canons inform how you write blueshipping? I’ve been wanting to write a blueshipping story but I felt like I needed to know who Set and Kisara were in the past before I could write them in the present.

Hiiii! First of all I'm so so so sorry that I've literally not answered this ask in months, I've been busy with other fandoms and only really checked this blog occasionally. Anyway I'm very glad to see you here because I recognise you from Ao3 and you've left so many lovely encouraging comments for me on there, so thank you <333

For your question, I've been wanting to write a mizushipping fic for many many years actually, but I've put it off because I always end up feeling like I'm not familiar enough with the ancient Egypt setting and all the circumstances/timeline of events. I keep meaning to watch that arc of the anime properly so I have all the details down properly, but I'm an expert procrastinator even with fun stuff so...

Anyway, I think in my mind their dynamic would be pretty similar in both past and present, because that's kind of the point. I tend to imagine them with the same kind of power imbalance between them in both settings, as well as Seto's conflict between worshipping Kisara and feeling unworthy of her while simultaneously being desperate to have her and claim her, and also his inner conflict between wanting so badly to be close to Kisara while also struggling with not really wanting to let anyone close or be too vulnerable with anyone. I really think these aspects of Seto's relationship with Kisara work just as well for Priest Seto as they do modern day Seto Kaiba, as do Kisara's mixture between being physically weak and a victim of her circumstances while at the same time having great mental fortitude and being able to bring out the best in Seto and protect him from himself.

The main thing that would be different if (hopefully when!) I write a mizushipping fic is ofc the way that Kisara's BEWD powers play into everything, because that's a given aspect of the ancient Egypt setting while it's hard to fit into a modern one. Also I think there's a potential for conflict in the way that Priest Seto is actually the one who's put Kisara in harm's way in that setting (I mean she's basically kidnapped to be used for her Ka, hello), so that would complicate things because of guilt and also a conflict of interest what with his "mission" to find people with powerful Kas and use them (and also the whole Akhenaden thing and how there's a whole other element of danger in that setting that I have to include and account for).

Aaaand now I'm getting rambly again, sorry x thank you so much for sending this ask and every so sorry for the ages it took for me to answer it (maybe the fact that I hopefully have a new Temptation chapter coming soon can make up for it?) <3

[scramble-crossing]

no please tell us your joshua thoughts i insist

You’ve hit me at a crucial moment of procrastination and utter dread. ON HIS BIRTHDAY.  Ideal circumstance to talk about Joshua.

Right off the bat though I’ve gotta say that a lot of this is probably not the most canon-adherent stuff and also only Josh-adjacent in some cases since I tend to focus on how he relates to other characters + the series’ worldbuilding over his actual self-contained character. I like him and all I just have the most fun using him as a narrative tool for the characters I like a little more ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

First of all, I usually put Joshua as having died and become Composer sometime between 1900-1920 following a near-and-dear headcanon that Kariya became a Reaper during the cultural shift of the 1920s with the advent of the salaryman lifestyle-if you’re going to sell your soul for guaranteed work it might as well come with the perk of being able to spend most of your existence lazing around the city instead of being boxed up in some itty-bitty cubical.

However this is mostly based on the assumption that Joshua predates all of the Shibuya Reapers. Otherwise they would recognize him, right? In opposition to this I really really love the headcanon that all trace of a person’s existence is erased from both the RG and UG upon becoming Composer (or any position higher than Conductor). In that case I think it’d be fun if Joshua came shortly after Kariya. They knew each other at some point.

^When Kariya confronted him and Neku in W2 Josh had a brief moment of “Holy shit does he remember me?” before Kari said he was alive and he got the biggest, shit-eatingest grin on his face. Yippiiiiie!!! Oily Josh has wriggled his way out of consequences once again!!!!

(Kariya is aware that there was a change in Composer sometime during his run as a Reaper. He sensed the city shift with it. The way it sings now, it’s almost…familiar? He doesn’t think about it too deeply, it saddens him a bit if he does)

Speaking of Josh & Friends, @starocide has a ton of very very fun ideas about Joshua and Coco being partners during their Reaper’s Game and it being the connection mentioned in That One Interview. That’s gonna be a whole separate essay one day, suffice to say for now that the Joshua from A New Day was reminiscent of the person he used to be, but twisted by Coco into a mocking caricature of himself.

(Coco doesn’t remember him, but she knows who he is. Joshua remembers her perfectly, but it doesn’t matter anymore.)

The Toxic Shithead Squad continues with Minamimoto. I have a LOT of thoughts about Joshua and Minamimoto.

By far the most interesting thing about W2 for me is just how much Joshua talks about Mina. Not just talks about, describes. He’s a math fetishist (rude) he’s an attention-seeker (rude…but fair) he’s the magic word I’ve been thinking about for the past two years: lonely. I think it’s incredibly interesting how many judgments of character Joshua makes about this guy despite the fact that we’re given no inclination to treat him as some sort of cat-whisperer or someone who’s in a position to understand Minamimoto at all. For the pure intrigue of it I like to see a lot of these calls as being accurate (idc if it’s cliche or corny, imply to me that Sho, somewhere in his heart of hearts, craves companionship and I will eat that shit up) but I also think that it’s equally interesting to question why Josh’s making these calls in the first place. Where's this stuff coming from? Why does he keep acting like he knows exactly what he's thinking?

I think Joshua sees a lot of himself in Minamimoto. Here’s a kid who’s deeply dissatisfied with the world around him, someone who thinks so little of other people that he, in his arrogance, is willing to reject every different thought, opinion, and action, shunning the people around him, treating them as little more than bugs he’s willing to step on in his all-consuming quest for the power to make something better than before: the world as it ends with him. Minamimoto isn’t just pursuing Joshua, he’s following his every footstep. Joshua sees this, recognizes it (though maybe not consciously) so that when he erases him he isn’t ridding himself of a potential threat or batting away this annoying little gnat that keeps interfering with his plans, symbolically he’s destroying himself. And if anything, isn’t that an act of mercy? Wouldn’t it be better to be dead than to waste away on his throne, watching a world he no longer recognizes slowly pass him by? Isn’t that what he wanted all along?

I think Joshua's story ended perfectly with twewy. I don't think there was anything left unresolved about it, and frankly I'm glad he barely had anything to do with the plot of neo. He made his choice. Was it the wrong one? Was there ever another option? Did he ever have a chance? Who knows! He's a walking worst-case-scenario and I love seeing how detached and apathetic he's become in neo, how he never let himself connect with Neku even though he gave him the chance (which was so, so much more than Joshua could ever have asked for), how Neku doesn't even seem to trust him anymore, how he's become little more than an anecdote in his life and the lives of is friends, a passing comment, a joke, a distant, sour memory. It's fantastic. I love Hachiko gang. I love fan content where they're all friends and Josh is this cryptic little sillyguy who has fun pushing all their buttons but is deeply unequivocally loved at the end of it all, but I hope that never happens in canon. I hope he stays a tragedy.

Happy birthday you little freak <3

[thejackofalltrades42069]

Doing things you don’t want to do (a useful stoic approach).

Here's a stoicism picture I created with Midjourney (pretty awesome imo).

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Intro.

Stoicism has a lot of useful information and practices to do daily or often, there are many great habits to take from that philosophy, I’ll share just this one idea that can be very useful for doing things you must do in daily life and find exhausting, stressful or tedious to do.

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Explanation and examples.

These responsibilities or things we must do sometimes can be wearing or even traumatic if we have an approach of resistance to doing them. Here are some examples:

Having to go to work at the office some days instead of always doing home office.

Dentist or doctor appointments.

Cleaning and chores.

Exercise.

Legal obligations.

Studying or continuing education.

Home repairs or maintenance.

Etc.

If we think these activities as awful, we will have stressful experiences when doing them and take longer time to do them because of procrastination, if in our mind things are a lot worse than they really are, the end result might not be the best, and we will always be stressed and anxious when we need to do this stuff.

What’s a good mindset and approach to doing these?

The best way I’ve found to approach any activity you don’t want to do but must or should do is to first try and think of what are the positive outcomes from doing it, then, think how you can somehow take advantage or take something out of doing that activity. You should also always see it as an opportunity to become better at doing it, so that it’s easier to do in the future.

Usually when an activity is stressful, but we keep doing it over and over again, and have the correct mindset, it eventually stops being stressful because we get used to it, here are a few examples:

Public speaking. First time anyone does this, they feel anxious and stressed, they forget what they have to say, but with preparation and doing it over and over, it becomes piece of cake.

Driving. First few times driving can be really stressful. Then it becomes like walking.

Taking exams or interviews. We’ve all been there; it becomes very easy overtime (if we’re prepared of course).

Learning how to use new technology. It can be really tough and stressful to learn how to use new technology for many people, but with patience and practice, we can just get used to having to learn many new technologies all the time.

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Examples for using this approach.

I’ll give 2 examples to clarify how we can apply this in real situations.

I’ll mention the situation or activity, then, again, we must see everything as an opportunity for getting better at it, we must find positive outcomes, what we can learn, and how to take advantage of it.

When you find having to go work at an office stressful or weary (instead of doing home office daily).

How could we take advantage of this? Perhaps by doing the following:

A lot of people usually prepare breakfast and lunch, we might find it tedious, but we can take this as an opportunity to make healthy meals for every day we go to the office, there are many advantages of eating healthy, feeling better in general, living longer with greater health, etc. There are many resources online that teach to do easy and healthy meals.

Working on our soft/ social skills, and networking.

It’s always good to have the best possible soft and social skills when interacting with other people, when we go to our workplace, we must interact with other people, we can practice talking and dealing with others, and try to become a bit better every time. We can take that skill we are using at work for any time we have to talk or deal with other people, if we believe we’re not good at it, we can see some online videos about having better interactions and practice a bit at a time. We could transfer that skill to, for example, if someone wants to start dating people, they will have a lot of social interaction practice from work that they can use when talking to someone they are dating (and for example, avoiding having too many awkward moments, and avoiding saying something the other person could take the wrong way). We can also create a good network of acquaintances and perhaps a couple friends, it’s always good to know people, sometimes they can help us get promotions at work, or perhaps they can help meet someone we could date, or they can give you the phone of a good plumber.

Fulfilling our social interaction needs.

Almost all of us have social interaction needs, when we are alone for too long, we can feel stressed, sometimes this is not the ideal social interaction that people want to have, but we can try and using it to cover that need, then we can go and be alone at our homes and enjoy that moment of being alone more than we usually do.

Walking more.

Moving or exercising in any possible way daily is essential for having a good health in the long term, when we go to our workplace, we can walk more than we do when we work from home. We not only have to walk to get to our work spot, but we can take a few breaks to take extra steps, we could even take 15 minutes from our lunch to take a short walk and cover a bit more of that need that we have to exercise.

Getting more sunlight.

A lot of people don’t get enough sunlight exposure, even if the sun doesn’t hit us directly for long, seeing the sunlight early is great because it boosts our mood, it helps regulate our circadian rhythm (daily cycle of biological processes like sleep-wake patterns), taking some sun provides us with vitamin D and we also produce serotonin (which is good). When we go to our workplace we can try to take more advantage of being outside for seeing and taking some sun.

These are a few things I can think about; perhaps you can think of more.

2. Procrastination and stress from avoiding dentist/doctor appointments.

Here, we can think of the most obvious, if we go to the dentist when we need to, we can have better dental health and longer lasting teeth, if we avoid going, we might end up losing our teeth at a younger age, or dealing with pain that we could heal by visiting the dentist. If we simply think about this and realize it’s the best we can do by far, we can convince ourselves of going when we need to, if we don’t, we might end up having to invest more money in teeth prosthesis/ implants and other expensive treatments.

Many medical conditions and injuries can worsen overtime if we don’t treat them, this is non-negotiable. If we understand this and understand that if we don’t treat ourselves the way we should, we can end up having to spend a lot of money in urgency treatments, or we could even die at a young age for not treating some medical conditions early. Here, perhaps we can try and think that we should take care of ourselves as if we were someone else that we cared for, we can try and take a look at ourselves from the outside, or as if we were our own children, or perhaps, our own pets that we care so much about, we should treat ourselves with that perspective if it helps.

We can think of many more advantages like, overall feeling better daily, enhanced quality of life, better mental health, better sleep, less stress, improved longevity, etc. There’s nothing better in life than having all these.

We could also think about new useful information we’re learning from our doctors or dentists. In my case, I learned a lot of useful information about physical rehabilitation and a bunch of useful exercises from my physiotherapist; I even improved my posture a lot with some exercises thanks to taking that time to do the therapy to rehab my shoulder.

We could think of many more examples like how we can take advantage of going to therapy (with a psychologist) to learn more from ourselves and improve many aspects of our daily lives, how we can take advantage of exercising for a greater well-being, why eating healthy meals we don’t like is good for our dopamine system (our reward-energy-motivation system), how we can get some physical activity and a mind relaxing activity when doing cleaning and chores, and so on.  

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Conclusion.

Keep thinking about seeing opportunities where you didn’t see them before (always when there’s something you don’t want to do!), about getting better at things, and about how to take advantage of everything you have to do.

If all that’s good not enough, just think about how doing an activity more and more with the correct mindset will eventually make it be a lot less stressful, it will eventually be a piece of cake (or pie).

[spentimental]

E is for Elysia Chlorotica, the solar-powered sea slug 

Just as eating shrimp turns flamingos pink and eating too many carrots will turn you orange (a process called carotenosis), the eastern emerald elysia get their green color from algae. But they also take the Kirby approach of absorbing the algae’s power of photosynthesis. To do this, they slurp the algae up and digest all but the chloroplasts. They then keep the chloroplasts alive and incorporate them into their own cells. The chloroplasts continue operating as usual, photosynthesizing for their new host. This is called kleptoplasty.

Much like with Cadlina Laevis, I hope to return to Elysia one day to better represent her indescribable beauty. Designing her dress took far longer than it should have and really brought to light the limitations of vector art and my lack of experience as an artist. I didn’t end up using either of these vintage dresses for Queen Elysia, but I wanted to share them anyway as I may not use them for future Alphabet Superset cards. This beaded gown looked perfect due to the similarities to the sparkles of elysia chlorotica, but I wanted to pay homage to the 1960s trend of the ruffled collar. I don’t have any other animals planned that I think the ruffled collar would fit except elysia. I tried to replicate this dress but it actually broke my brain. Then my document overwhelmed Inkscape to the point of crashing multiple times and I lost some progress that I didn’t feel like redoing. She ended up with a scalloped collar instead.

Last time, I talked about struggling with motivation. I’ve been trying to curb my avoidance by coming up with another long-term project like the Alphabet Superset challenge that I can turn to when I lose steam. I know it sounds like a ticket to burnout, but I think having permission to procrastinate with a specific project will help keep me invested in the things that I have committed to. The blessing of having a miniscule following is that I can post without worrying that I’ll upset anyone by breaking my established pattern. For those of you with creative blogs like art or writing, what do you wish you could experiment with but are afraid to do so?

Next Week’s Sneak Peek:

Flying fish, and finally our first spade!