#might reopen these again in a couple weeks

[toomuchracket]

queen of hearts (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

penultimate day of valentine's week. this is a short and sweet one about you appearing at a signing with matty for the first time, a couple of months into dating. enjoy <3

“i really don't know what to wear today.”

matty leans round the doorframe, toothbrush hanging from his mouth exactly the same way a cigarette usually does. “just wear whatever,” he shrugs, voice muffled by toothpaste; he disappears to spit, and smirks at you when he returns. “go like that, even.”

“in my underwear?” you scoff. “who are we? kimye?”

your boyfriend laughs. “i love you.”

you sigh. “if you really did, you'd help me pick out an outfit.”

“baby, it's just an album signing, it's not fashion week. but alright,” matty stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, scrutinising the contents of the two weekend bags you've emptied onto his bed. “i like that skirt there,” he points at a long satin black and white swirly thing. “you could wear it with one of my t-shirts, if you wanted?”

his voice sounds so tender you can't help but smile, leaning round to kiss his cheek. “would you want me to wear one of your t-shirts with it, darling?”

“yeah,” matty nuzzles his face into your neck. “maybe that my bloody valentine top you've secretly had your eye on for years.”

“i have not!”

“liar,” he pinches your bare hip, kissing your neck when you yelp before letting go of you to rifle through his wardrobe. “here,” he returns with the t-shirt. “arms up, sweetheart.”

“m’not a baby, you know,” you grumble, as matty puts the top on for you.

“yeah, you are,” he beams when your face reappears from the fabric, taking it in his hands and kissing all over it. “my baby, my baby.”

“betting on losing dogs, are we?”

“hmm? wait, don’t tell me, i know this one, i do,” your boyfriend closes his eyes, reopening them and squinting in anticipation. “... mitski?”

you cheer, kissing him. “yes!”

he grins. “i listened to that album. liked it.”

“it's a good one,” you pull your skirt on and slip into your shoes; matty automatically kneels to help you lace them. “i think - oh, thanks, babe - yeah, i think i might see if i can buy it on vinyl today, actually.”

“dunno if you'll be able to, darling,” matty kisses your thigh through your skirt. “the amount of fans who've asked me if you're coming today? i reckon you'll be bombarded the whole time.”

“really?”

“yeah. people love you!” your boyfriend stands, kissing you deeply. “but not as much as i do. obv.”

“love you,” you kiss him again. “even when you're being delusional about how popular i am amongst your fanbase.”

“i'm right.”

“whatever you say, baby.”

as much as it pains you to admit it, when you begin to near the record shop in the car, it's clear that he really is. while you're in the middle of a conversation (interrogation, really) with ross about the mutual acquaintance of yours he’s started seeing - a travel photographer you know from condé nast meetings - matty elbows you in the ribs. “sorry, darling, i didn't mean to do that so hard. just got excited,” he grins, gesturing with his head to something on the street outside the window. “look at that girl's tote bag.”

grumbling, rubbing your sore chest, you squint to see what he means; when you do, your jaw drops. “fuck off. is that me?”

“yeah! as one of those saint candles!” matty laughs. “wonder where she got it. i want one. i'm gonna ask,” when the car stops, traffic gridlocked, he opens the window and leans out, while you facepalm and ross winces. “yo! love the tote bag! where'd you get it?”

“i made it!” a voice calls back, barely audible amidst the shrieks of the people around it. “i can make you one, too, matty!”

“would you? oh, thank you, darling. you're coming to the signing, yeah?”

“yeah!”

“alright. we'll talk then. see you!”

“tell your girlfriend i love her!”

matty laughs. “she's right here, she heard!”

the shrieks get even louder. your jaw drops, and ross laughs. “maybe you should wave to them, mate.”

“this is fucking insane,” you mutter in disbelief, undoing your seatbelt and shuffling to sit on matty's lap; his hands make their way around your waist on instinct, and you lean out the window somewhat nervously. “um. hi, guys?”

the scream you get in response is almost deafening - the six girls, none of whom look older than nineteen, look totally ecstatic to see you, squealing your name and waving so excitedly you can't quite comprehend it. you grin, and laugh when the one with the tote bag brandishes it towards you with a cry. “my patron saint!”

“oh, bless you,” you wink, and matty kisses your shoulder (out of sight of the audience) as they all laugh. “how are you guys, anyway? excited?”

the chatter restarts, but the smallest girl piques your attention first. “yeah! this is my first 75 album signing. i'm hyped!”

“is it?” matty pokes his head out, at the exact same time you say “mine too”. he kisses your cheek. “aww, that's cute. i mean, i've been going to your book signings for years, but,” he exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, and ross laughs from the other side of the car. “whatever.”

you sigh, turning to the girls. “what my darling boyfriend failed to mention is that i'd send him a signed copy - with a personal message, mind you - of everything i published, as pr, and he'd still show up and buy another one and make me sign it,” you ruffle his hair. “matty healy tree murderer confirmed.”

“but that's so sweet,” one of the girls sighs.

matty points at her. “exactly! and,” he looks at you adoringly. “i just like hearing you talk. that's why i came to all the events.”

this isn't news to you, but it melts your heart nonetheless. still, you can't resist - “simp”.

“says the woman who spent three hours watching tiktok edits of me yesterday.”

the girls cackle, collapsing into each other giggling in the unique way only young women do. “real,” one of them shouts, laughing even harder when you salute to her. “oh my god, i love you!”

matty turns to you, smug. “see?” he turns back to the window. “she didn't believe me earlier, when i told her you guys were hoping she'd come with me today. underestimated how much you love her.”

“yeah, yeah,” you rest your head against his. “he’s right, though - this is surprising to me. but very lovely, you guys are sweet.”

“and you guys are perfect,” tote bag girl grins. “seriously. it's so good to see you both so happy. please don't break up, ever, it would be worse for me than my actual parents’ divorce.”

you gasp out an “oh my god”, while matty giggles. “nah, no need to worry,” he looks at you with such tenderness you could cry. “she's it for me, the love of my life; if she leaves me, i'm going with her.”

“as if i'd ever leave you. love you too much to do that,” you scoff, tugging him into you for a hug. a retching noise from the other side of the car breaks your little reverie, and you giggle. “sorry for making you sit through the sappiness, ross.”

“wait, ross is here too?!”

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hello hello!

I saw your “Them comforting reader after a long day” post and i thought how about a “reader comforts them after a long day” with Furina/Mona and whoever you choose. I’m gonna go back to bing read your posts now! Take care!

Comforting them after a long day

characters: Furina / Mona x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: maybe slight hurt/comfort, but mostly fluff

a/n: Couldn't exactly go the full comforting route in Mona's path, bc let's be honest. That girl is too proud to show even a little bit of weakness or vulnerability, but this should do as well.

Oh, also: FINALLY A REQUEST FOR MONA I LOVE HER SO MUCH I- SOJDVNIJSDVNSIDVNSIDJVNIJSDNV

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

Even though Furina had promised herself not to hide behind a facade any longer, there were times she instinctively fell back on her old habits, the 500 year old autopilot that made it possible for her to keep her secret for so long not disappearing overnight. So when she finally closed the doors to her apartment, only to immediately turn around, lean onto them and let gravity do its job until she had slid down to a sitting position, Furina finally closed her eyes before letting out a heavy sigh she had held back for far too long.

“That was a big one. Want to talk about it?” Your voice suddenly rang out, causing her eyes to snap open and quickly land on your silhouette in the hallway as she struggled to leap back up, embarrassment flaming up in her as she tried her best to play it off as if nothing happened, only for her to end up leaning awkwardly against the door.

“Want to talk about what?” Furina shot back immediately, only to silently cringe at the way her words came out, putting on a smile as she slowly took off her shoes and coat and made her way over to the living room, being closely followed by you.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s also fine. Can I take your hand for a bit?” You eventually stated with an understanding smile, grabbing her head once she gave you a nod and starting to massage it by pressing your thumbs against different spots.

It wasn’t like Furina didn’t want to tell you… actually getting her complaints off her chest probably wouldn’t feel so bad. There was nothing stopping her except old habits and the fear something bad might happen once she opened up, that she inherited from her “former life” as Fontaine’s Archon.

“ No, I want to. But I’ll warn you. It might be a long and ultimately boring tale, so are you sure you want to list–” Furina interrupted her melancholic monologue when you pressed against a particular point on her hand, causing her to suddenly yelp in pain as you briefly stopped and looked up at her once again, your face asking her if you should stop. Just like with her opening up, your hand-massage was painful, yet also felt… pleasant and before long she signaled you to continue before reopening her mouth. “–so are you sure you want to listen to it?”

Without a moment of hesitation you responded, giving her a determined nod as you continued to carefully massage the same spot until stopped being painful, showing Furina one last encouraging smile until her complaints and worries started to pour out of her mouth. The former Archon talking until she felt the corners of her mouth dry up, with you intently listening to each and every one of her words.

…Maybe being more open every once in a while didn’t feel too bad.

Mona

Being an Astrologer was what Mona had always dreamed of being, so when it came to it, she wasn’t scared of pouring every single second of her free time into her work, even when chances were her research would reach a dead-end. Because even with fate ordaining everything that ever happened or still lied in the future, there was no way of knowing how things were going to turn out without at least giving them a shot.

So having her the last couple of weeks worth of work turned out to be for nothing when it became clear it wasn’t going anywhere was nothing Mona was unfamiliar with. It was simply a part of her job after all… but even though the great Astrologer Mona Megistus would never admit to being bothered by setbacks, you knew her better than to fall for her unaffected facade.

“Do you have ingredients at home?” You suddenly asked in the middle of your walk, immediately gaining Mona’s attention as she quickly got lost in thought, trying to remember what food she had used up and what still remained, only to eventually give up and shrug her shoulders, letting out a small sigh as she straightened her hat.

“There might still be some left. I can’t say for sure though, keeping stock of my supplies wasn’t exactly something I kept in mind these last few days,” she admitted only for you to quickly whip around your head, a smile adorning your lips as you came up with a suggestion.

“Let’s go out and eat something! That’s something we didn’t do in quite a while.” Considering Mona’s thoughtful look and how she paused in her tracks for a few seconds, it was fair to say that she wasn’t completely against your proposal, even if you were sure it would still require a lot of convincing to get her to finally agree.

“I’m not sure. Going out to eat when you could just as well buy ingredients and cook something is a waste of money isn’t it?” She hesitantly responded, still pondering as her fingers continued to scratch her chin. Truth be told. You couldn’t agree with her more. You had recently spent a lot of your money on things that in hindsight didn’t exactly prove to be the wisest investments, but even so, you felt as if it was your duty to get Mona to eat something tasty today, even if it meant eating nothing but bread and butter for a few days.

You knew Mona better than to not notice how demoralized she seemed the last few days, her sudden mood change and her increase in free time coinciding too well for it to mean anything except her latest research turning out to be for naught. Of course you knew better than to confront her directly about it… something that would only lead to Mona getting defensive as she’d deny feeling down about anything, too proud and stubborn to open up. And so, the only option left was for you to do what you did best.

“I know… But you’ve been so busy these last few weeks so I couldn’t see you all that much and... I’ve missed you,” you explained while trying your best impression of a puppy, “So can we please go out today?” When you saw Mona’s face heat up slightly as she quickly glanced around the two of you, looking if there was anyone in earshot, you knew your plan turned out to be a success, having to do your best to stop your lips from curling up into a smile when she let out a yet another deep sigh. 

“Fine, but stop saying embarrassing things. We’re in public.”

[rx-wr]

🌧️•~Sad Times~•🌧️

A ticci Toby x Reader (smut) by: rxwr

CW- depression, starvation, cutting, sympathetic sex (in the beginning), rough sex, depressed reader, stalking, blood, suicide attempts mentioned, degrading.

Words: 1,073

~•~•~•~•~

You sit in your room, no music, lights off. Tears run down your face as small hiccups escape your lips. Your life has been pretty shitty for the last couple months. It started one day when you had caught a man following you home. You didn’t get a good look at him before he disappeared away from your sight. You’ve been on edge ever since. A few weeks later you lost your father, sure you guys weren’t close but it still hurt. As the rest of your life went on more and more started to go on. So now here you sit, a knife by your side blood leaking down your arm. You stare at it be for you clean up and wrap your arm.

You get up and start to walk downstairs. Walking over to the fridge you open it. Most of the food in there had gonna bad. You’ve stopped eating about a month ago. You’re really really skinny right now surviving mostly off of water and small snacks every now and again. You sigh and close the fridge walking over to the sink and getting a small glass of water instead of food. You down the water and start to walk upstairs.

You return to your room but stop dead in your tracks, I man stands over your bed back facing you, there’s a hatchet in his right hand and it looks like he’s twitching. You step back trying to be as quiet as possible only for the floor of your hallway to creak. Before you could look up the man had you pinned to the wall. Hatchet in the air. I start to cry more out of pain as your cuts on your arm had reopened by the force. You put your arms up to shield yourself from the weapon as much as possible. But nothing came…no pain, no sound, no swing. The man grabs your arm and pulls you to the ground and climes on top of you.

“G-god your look s-so fucking miserable…” he said the mouth guard he wears slightly muffles his voice.

He removes the hoodie he has on revealing the rest of his brown hair. You try to move out of his grasp but he simply grabs both your wrists and pulls you back. 

“You k-know it’s ru-ude to move away from people when t-they’re talking to you, r-r-right?” He said a little anger in his voice.

He give you a skeptical look then smirks. “You scream hav-v-ven’t been fucked, god makes me f-feel bad…” he removes the mouth guard and goggles from his face. “A-am I right?” He asks smiling.

With his face exposed you blush as you look at him. He has honey brown eyes that complement his pale skin. His lips are slightly tinted red. His cheek has a gash through the side of it, revealing his teeth and gums. He has a slight stubble peppering his face.

His hands still have ahold of your wrist as he hold you down. “S-shit by the w-way you’re looking at me-me right now, y-you probably haven’t f-felt the touch of man i-in months.” He said with a chuckle. “I m-might fuck you out of p-pity,” he moves closer to your face. “Would you l-like that?”

You don’t know what your body is doing it moves on its own as you nod. He gives you a crazy smirk and brings his face down to yours. His lips take yours in a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He smirks against your lips and pulls away bringing his mouth to your neck. He bites down on your neck causing it to bleed, he uses his tongue and licks at the blood.

“God-d so good…” he says and continues. His hand moves down to your shirt and removes it. He moves down from your neck to your tits, he takes a nipple into his mouth and his fingers play with the other one. You get out moans and groans as he does this, his pants growing tighter on him form his erection. He pulls off and flips you over

“I c-can’t fuck wait…” he says his voice raspy. He gets down lower and moves your panties to the side. “B-but fuckkkk I might h-have too…” he says and licks up your folds. “So w-wet, fucking s-s-slut” he sticks to fingers in as you let out a gasp. “And t-tight, god my c-cock might no-ot fit.” He says chuckling darkly. “Oh but I’ll m-make it f-fit”

He pulls away undoing his pants letting his dick spring free. You gasp at the size has to be 7 or 8 inches, it’s girth isn’t that much but it’s still a lot compared to what you have had before. He pushes into both of you letting out a moan as he bottoms out.

“F-fuck so tight…” he says his voice strained slightly. After let you adjust he starts to move. His thrust are slow at first but there not like that for long as he starts to slam into hard and fast. “Ugh f-fucking slut…t-taking it l-like a whore.” He says into your ear as he thrust into you from behind you. Your hands grab onto the carpet of your hallway as he continues.

The room fills with the sound of slapping skin and moans. “Fuck, I’m going to cum!” You scream.

“That’s it c-cum for me, cum for me l-l-like the cock taking w-whore you are…” he whispers in your ear. He continues to thrust. You start to cum and he’s right behind you. He cums inside of you with a few slow thrust then pulls out. His juices leak out of you, he uses his fingers and scoops the back up inserting them and sticking his sperm back into you.

He gets up and fix’s himself. He looks down at you and picks you up laying you down in your bed. He walks over to the window placing his hatchets into their holsters.

“Where are you going?” You ask sitting up slightly.

He looks back at you his body half way out the window. “I can’t s-stay.” He says. You look at him and nod.

“Can I know your name…?” You ask hesitantly. He looks at you for a moment then nods.

“T-Toby…” he says. He looks you over again. “I’ll be b-back for more in t-t-the future…” he says before hopping out the window. You lay down and get some of the best sleep you’ve had in a few months.

[strawberryya]

king of hearts and nerdy love

mingyu x reader

synopsis: How can valentines at the library be romantic? Was what you asked, stupidly enough, not knowing this would become the ultimate challenge for the hopeless romantic that is your boyfriend. 

word count: 5.6k

genre/contains: fluff, romance, smut, college au, mentions of food and eating, sex in a public place, unprotected sex, degradation and praise, afab!reader, gn!reader, established relationship, ft. study-buddy vernon

rating: 18+

a/n: happy valentine's y'all!! here's my addition to the svthub pink eros collab for the holiday and thank you <3 zeta <3 @multi-kpop-fanfics for reading it over <3

you can find the masterlist for the pink eros collab here!

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

“Don’t worry about it, I got this,” Mingyu cockily said with a half smirk and a nod that screamed ‘overconfidence’ from miles away, and all you could do was nod with a worried expression. Valentine’s might not be the biggest holiday of the year, but it had always been a cute little day to spend together, just the two of you. However, the nowhere-near-finished essay that was due by the week’s end would wait for no one. This, of course, meant that all the days leading up to the deadline would have to be spent in the library. Sadly this also included Valentine’s.

Your pout as you had told him had disappeared and in its place was an almost frightened look on your face as you wondered what the hell Mingyu was going to do after his casual way of telling you to just relax and let him handle the supposedly most romantic day of the year. 

“Yeah? You don’t mind? Is doing something when I get home enough? I know we usually make it a bit bigger than that…” you asked again, hoping he would slip up and give you a hint of what he planned. 

“I do like spending the entire day with you, but I also know how much you need to get this essay done. Just be in your spot at the library and be a good student for the day, and I will take it from there,” he answered in a very reassuring manner. You weren’t sure you felt that reassured of anything though. 

Was he coming to the library? That wouldn’t exactly be much fun for him since all you would do was read, write, and read, and write some more. Nevertheless, you agreed, and you had done as planned. You had grabbed some breakfast on your way to the library and were already sitting comfortably with all your books and a fully charged computer in front of you at the edge of one of the tables in your favorite library on campus. 

Your study buddy Vernon was as usual in the seat across the table, headphones on and his head bobbing in rhythm to whatever he was playing on presumably rather loud noise into his ears, and with an assignment of his own that needed to be finished. By now, greeting each other was a well-rehearsed quick affair with a wave and a donut the person who got to the library last was obligated to bring. 

It was time to get this damn essay done, you told yourself as you reopened the documents and began searching the page for where you had last left off and what you were to tackle next. 

It wasn't until right around ten when Vernon rose to scurry off to the bathroom that your mind came back into focus. The ding of a message echoed loudly into your earbuds, pulling you back from your fervent writing. 

[10.07] Mingyu puppy Break time! Hope ur in the mood for something sweet :p 

He was surprisingly punctual for once, you thought briefly before you looked around to the exit of the hall you were sitting in only to catch the exact moment your boyfriend came into the large room, half running and, once he saw your face, also shouting “Hey!”, only to receive at least a dozen side eyes and a couple of annoyed glances and groans from stressed out students also sitting in the library on valentines day. Of course, if it wasn’t your puppy-like boyfriend who was running up to you in the calm of the library on this day in particular, you would probably be incredibly annoyed as well. 

However, that wasn’t the case, and your face cracked up as you saw his face plead for forgiveness while he slowed his step for a moment before he set out to get to you once again. 

“Hey,” he wheezed once he got to your area, “Hey,” you wheezed back, giggling a bit as you looked up at him where he was standing, a huge grin on his face, paired with hair that stood everywhere.

“Happy valentines,” he said in a low voice as he bent down to your level, smooching your cheek as you grinned back at him with your whole face. “I brought you snacks,” he boasted and handed over a box covered in tiny pink hearts. 

You couldn't help but gasp when you lifted the lid only to reveal a bunch of fruit, cut in perfect bite-sized hearts, and the whole thing completed with tiny pickets stuck into a couple of the strawberries and mango pieces, spelling out “Be my valentine?” 

“I’d love to,” you whispered, your voice almost failing you because of this little gesture of his. “Did you cut these out yourself?” you suddenly asked as you swung your head back up to look at Mingyu. 

“Sure did. Do you like them?” 

“I love them, thank you, baby,” you said before swallowing a berry you had just put in your mouth. You pulled a little at his jacket, making him bend down his proud face to your level so you could give him a smooch back; your lips sweet from the strawberry you had just eaten. 

When you pulled back and Mingyu rose again you saw him wave to someone behind you, and a “Hey bro,” coming from behind you. 

“Oh, you got more food?” Vernon added as he came back to his seat, eyeing the container filled with sweet fruit hearts. 

“I made them,” Mingyu quickly explained with a smug tone, “want some?” 

“What? But…” you exclaimed, shocked that he would give away some to a random friend of yours. 

“Come on, he can have a bite, you get to have all of me,” he teased, “Let Vernon have some fruit won't you.”

He was right, sadly, and you remembered all the times Vernon had shared whatever he was eating with you and you decided fighting everyone would take too much of your energy. Energy, that you would need if you were to continue writing, you reminded yourself. 

When you got your little gift back a picket with the letter ‘y’ was gone from the container along with a piece of pineapple. You tried to hide the tiny pout on your face as you watched the ‘my’ that had turned into an ‘m’. 

“These are great, thanks,” Vernon declared, halfway through eating his piece, making you reluctantly say your welcome and Mingyu become, if possible, even prouder. 

“Well, I gotta head back to my dorm, I’ll see you at lunch okay?” you heard Mingyu say from beside you, making you look up at him and nod, slightly surprised this wasn’t the end of him coming to visit you, but even more excited that you would be getting to see him at your next break time. Maybe you would be fine sharing this gift with Vernon after all…

With a peck goodbye and a “Good luck!” he was off, seemingly already late for whatever was next on his itinerary making you chuckle to yourself before you put your music back on. Let’s get back to it, you said to yourself as you forced your mind back into the zone, your hand mindlessly picking up yet another of the pretty fruits in the container next to you. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

When lunchtime came around you had finished more of your assignment than you thought you would have, as well as all the fruit, only a couple escaping your own lips and landing in Vernon’s tummy instead. You weren’t yet hungry, but lunchtime was approaching quickly and every so often you couldn’t help but glance over at the clock atop your screen and wonder what time Mingyu meant when he said lunch. 

It was closing in on one O'clock now though, and you were starting to lose focus from having sat there for a couple of hours when you suddenly felt a tiny gust of wind flutter past you at the same time as a blurry piece of something pink flew by in your peripheral. 

A paper plane, you discovered, laying on the floor next to you. 

You looked around but saw no one that seemed to acknowledge the pink plane that had landed by your place, so you picked it up, curious as to who had sent it as well as what it might mean. 

‘Open me’ was written in squiggly letters on the top of the wings, and so you did, revealing even more of the same letters written inside of it. 

“Walk up the stairs and just past the greek mythology section (nordic mythology is too far, so turn around if you get there). There you will find a really, and I mean incredibly, handsome guy(objective opinion) and perhaps something yummy too… //Eros, God of love and everything pink <3”

You chuckled as you read it and looked at the dozens of little wonky hearts and arrows surrounding the message. This was very clearly sent from the one and only Kim Mingyu, you thought, trying to keep the grin that was creeping onto your face from becoming visible, but it was no use. You were smiling like a fool, and your tummy felt like it was filled with a hundred butterflies and so you didn’t even wait for a proper answer from Vernon when you asked if he could watch your stuff for a bit as you began sprinting towards the stairs, missing all the stares you got from the sudden bustle from you getting up. 

Of course, Vernon already had a burrito bowl that he had gotten a while ago while you watched his stuff and just nodded as you scurried off to whatever you had to do and he moved on. 

You powerwalked past the many shelves filled from floor to ceiling with books on every imaginable subject until you got to the far end of the third floor of the library where the books on religion and mythology were all collected together. There, just as the “gods” had promised you, was an incredibly handsome guy waiting for you, leaning against one of the shelves with a smug little grin on his face that told you that he definitely had something in store for you. 

With a tiny shriek, you flung yourself into his arms, happy for the break and that his strong statue was able to catch you without stumbling over too much as you wrapped your arms tightly around him, his laugh vibrating through your body as he chuckled at your excitement. 

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you,” he said with a flick of his head. You followed him back between the aisles until you reached the very corner of the floor. 

When you saw the surprise you couldn’t help but gasp and put your hand up to your mouth so as to not scream in joy and excitement over the perfect little romantic picnic that was splayed out on a pink blanket on the library floor. 

Fruit cut just like before, in tiny little hearts in a similar container as before, pasta with your favorite sauce, bread, grapes, and even some tiny mini cupcakes perfected with pink frosting and heart sprinkles. You were stunned into silence as you watched the setup. Mingyu chuckled beside you before he bent down to pick up a bouquet of at least a dozen roses from the blanket. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you tried to hold back the happy tears that wanted to escape your eyes. It was all so, perfect. 

“How did you set all this up? When did you have time to-” 

When you looked at Mingyu he was all sunshine and smiles as he watched your reaction. “That’s for me to know and for you to not think about, because right now all you need to do is accept these flowers and have valentines lunch with me.” 

His tone was that of an order but also so very sweet you couldn’t help but smile back at him with your entire face before nodding and accepting the flowers. “That sounds wonderful Gyu…” 

The entire lunch you ate the freaking amazing food your boyfriend had made, laughed at his bad little jokes and flirty comments whenever you ate a strawberry, and not a single time did you think about the work you still had to finish. 

“If you’re gonna eat the strawberries like that I’m gonna have to retaliate,” Mingyu threatened when you once again ate half of a strawberry while wrapping your lips around the red fruit. 

You chuckled at his tone, “Is that a threat or a promise, huh?” you teased back at him.

He gasped, dramatically looking at you while picking up the grapes, still holding onto its vine, only to smirk before bringing the green bulbs to his mouth in a smooth motion. Holding the vine over his head while he let his tongue find hold of one of the grapes before he wrapped his lips around it and took it into his mouth he looked a lot more like Dionysus than Eros you thought for a split second before his eyes fluttered open and your gaze met his. 

“You’re an idiot,” you chuckled, shaking your head at his antics. 

“And you love me,” he added. 

You sighed. “And I love you…” you corrected yourself, earning a pleased expression from the man laying on his side in front of you. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

When you were finally seated at your spot again, over an hour had passed since you left for your lunch break. It was, once again, time to get your shit done so you could leave the library which felt less fun to be at with every hour you forced yourself to stay. 

Mingyu coming over like this had brightened up your day a whole lot though, you realized. Your heart swelled from thinking about how much effort he had put in to make your day feel special even though you both had other things that craved your attention. 

You would have to do something to give him the same attention back later today. How, you did not yet know. But you were fairly sure you would be able to come up with at least one thing to make sure he felt as loved as he had made you feel all throughout the day. 

As you wrote, your mind began to wander further and further away from your reality. 

The way Mingyus’s lips had wrapped around those grapes earlier had actually gotten to you… Yes, you had laughed it off - but that was then. Now, your mind was replaying it. His pink lips were plush and smooth against the fruit. Not to mention how his large, warm hands had held onto your waist as he kissed you goodbye along with that damn smirk of his. 

You bit on the inside of your lip mindlessly as you stared at your screen, zoned out and mentally everywhere but in the middle of a room filled with other students and old books. In your mind, those big hands that had held your back in a sturdy grip before were already on your body again, holding you up as he filled you up like only he could. 

Too caught up in your own imagination, your legs squeezed themselves together underneath the table. The way his fingertips would dig into your flesh, hard enough to leave marks but the pain only excruciating enough to make it turn into pleasure instead, was so incredibly vivid your entire body was reacting to your thoughts. 

You felt yourself become more aroused by the minute. Your heat craving for the touch of warm fingers, a filthy mouth, or even better; your boyfriend filling you up while he kissed up and down your neck and chest. 

You didn’t even realize that almost forty minutes had passed without you writing more than a paragraph while your mind wandered off to feeling Mingyus’s touch all over your body. Shaking your head to somehow bring yourself back to your work you realized that perhaps you might kill two birds with one stone later tonight. You know exactly how he likes to be treated, and you definitely wouldn’t mind giving him a bit extra off all the things he loves when you do in bed. Maybe it wouldn’t be as sweet as all the things he had done today, but my goodness, you felt a need to give him everything and anything he wanted when you got him alone tonight.  

It was decided, you would give Mingyu the best pussy of his life tonight, and all you needed to do was stop thinking about him filling you up and get to your milestone for the day. 

However, the thoughts were relentless. Never giving you more than ten minutes at a time to think about your essay before the thought of his tongue on your skin popped into your mind, making you dizzy with need. After over an hour of this battle with your own mind, you were about to give in to your lust and leave your work for tomorrow-you to handle when a ping caught your attention. 

[16.42] Mingyu puppy Break time again, u haven’t fallen asleep yet have u?

You had not. Sleepiness was honestly one of the least worries you had right now. Additionally, Mingyus’s deep voice whispering “Hey my little genius,” next to your ear did absolutely everything but help your situation. He had managed to make your entire body shiver with the way his hot breath hit your already sensitive skin and had your mind sprinting away to all the thoughts you had been pushing away for the past hours with that simple phrase. 

You needed him. Now. 

“Mingyu-” you said, in a voice that almost came out as a whimper, shocking you to the point where you interrupted yourself out of embarrassment. Letting Mingyu instead put the little box of something down beside your computer on the table. 

“I got sweets for my sweetheart,” he declared, half embarrassed and half hoping you would love his cheesy presentation of the snack he had brought. You did, of course, you liked both the snack and the way he had presented it, even though the cheesiness level of it was off the charts. 

It didn't even matter though, because you could appreciate his adorable dorkiness some other time. Now you wanted him, and you knew he was up for helping you out whenever, wherever from past experiences. 

“I- I love them, thank you so much…” 

“Yeah? Are you working hard?” Mingyu said, peeking down at your computer, seeing the half-finished sentence you had left while you were last fighting your mind’s incessant chatter about Mingyu’s cock. 

“I am… but, uhm, I kinda need to go get a book.” 

You needed to get him away from people, you needed to get him alone so you could have him all to yourself. 

“A book? What kind of book are we looking for?” he asked, curiously and innocently while looking at the massive pile of books you already had available right next to you. 

“Just, a book, in the basement! Yeah, we need to go get it. In the basement. That’s where the book I need is. Will you go with me?” 

Your words came out stifled and incredibly awkward. Mingyu had an understandably confused look on his face. “Yeah, sure I’ll go with you… are you o-” 

“Let’s go,” you interrupted him as you grabbed his hand in yours and began making your way towards the stairs that would lead you to the lower sections of the building and eventually to the basement where the rarely used books and archives of all things rarely looked at things were. You hadn’t even checked with Vernon if it was ok for you to just up and leave like this while he was stuck with your stuff, but you presumed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon anyways. Since you were currently running on horniness, you didn’t think much more about anything else other than finding a secluded area somewhere. 

“Why are we in such a hurry?? Are you ok for real?” Mingyu huffed out as you opened the door to one of the rooms where you had not once heard a single person have a reason to visit. 

“I’m fine, I’m just- a bit horny…” the last part was barely audible, but suddenly it seemed as though things clicked for Mingyu.  

“Oh! Yeah okay then!” he exclaimed, and as you turned in onto one of the abandoned aisles in the far-off corner of the room you had ended up in it was Mingyu who pushed you up against the shelf stacked with hundreds of old books. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he had you wrapped up inside his embrace with dark eyes looking at your lips as if he had an insatiable need to feel them the second you gave the signal. 

“Yeah? You wanna try fucking me in here?” 

“I do, I absolutely do.” 

Your hands landed in his hair, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you kissed him messily. You pressed yourself into his large body, feeling the way he had already started getting excited on the hardness meeting your lower stomach. 

“I can tell,” you giggled, mischievousness seeping through your horniness even now. 

he barely even reacted to your teasing, planting yet another dizzying kiss on your plush lips. It wasn’t long until your hands had traced their way from his hair down teh ridges of his abdomen and you somehow found yourself with your hand wrapped around his hardening dick. Mingyu groaned as you began pumping him while he sucked tiny little marks into your chest, just below the collar so you would be able to hide it later. 

“You know, you made me really happy today,” you breathlessly whispered as his mouth reattached itself to your skin. The humming sound he made in response elicited a moan from you before you continued. “I really didn’t think today could feel that special since I had to be stuck in here all day, and I know you had a busy day as well…” 

You were interrupted by your own moans as he traced his hand against your heat. 

“Liked it?”

“Love it.” 

He only chuckled at how your mind had been so thrown off its train of thought just by a small grace that he couldn’t help but kiss you properly as his hand unzipped your pants so his hand could slip easily into your underwear and give you more

“Go on… tell me what you want, tell me what you liked, tell me what you think sweetheart.”

Mindlessly you let yourself say whatever popped into your mind. “I want your fingers, I liked how you made me feel the entire day, fuck-”

At that, his fingers slipped inside your wet folds. When his fingers slipped right past your entrance, the stretch was delicious. You marveled at the fact that he knows your insides so well that he managed to immediately hit the perfect spot as he curled his fingers and used his thumb to rub tiny circles on your sensitive clit. 

“And I think,” you were gasping, trying to keep your focus on everything at once, your hands rubbing up and down his hard erection, his hands slipping in and out of you with such ease you could hear your own arousal, and his mouth and humming groans in the crook of your neck. “I think, I am absolutely in love with you.”

Mingyu pulled back with a knowing smile. It was endearing and genuine, yet so very cocky, but his thick fingers made it impossible to make any sort of retort in response to his expression. “I love you too, so, so much…” he whispered as he kissed you, swallowing those whines of pleasure you couldn���t help but let slip out. 

“I want you,” you whimpered as his thumb pressed against your clit yet again. 

“You have me…” 

“Want your cock, now,” you begged. 

This was more than he could take, more than any man should have to take ever honestly. Your breathy whines and the way your heat was already squelching around him as you begged for his cock inside you, it was all too much for him to be able to keep his composure. 

Swiftly he pulled down the fabric covering his erection, pulling himself out before he pushed your own pants and underwear out of the way for him to be able to line himself up with your aching hole. 

“Please fuck me,” you panted as you felt the head of his cock teasing your entrance. 

“Of course, baby,” Mingyu smiled softly, only barely covering the heat burning in his eyes as he saw your eyes rolling back along with his thick cock pushing its way into your tight pussy. It felt too good, you were already clamping your hand over your mouth as he began thrusting so as to not scream in pleasure. Only the faintest thought of hoping you were truly alone in the large room seeped through the pleasure that was taking over your brain completely. 

“Such a pretty little thing, taking me so well,” he couldn’t help but gasp out as your walls closed in tightly around him. 

His hands were grappling at your thighs, helping you stay upright as well as helping your legs stay open as they instinctively closed at the intense feeling of him stretching you out. You were moaning with every hard snap of his hips into you, the muffled moans now blending with the low groans Mingyu was making right into your ear and the wet sounds of his cock pumping in and out of you. 

The thoughts that had filled your head and previously distracted you were being fucked out of your mind, leaving only the pornographic sounds of your pussy leaking its juices all over your boyfriend in the quiet library aisles. 

“You’re absolutely drenched, sweetheart… You must’ve been thinking about this before I even got here, didn’t you? Such a dirty little one you are today,” he snickered breathlessly as he kissed up your jaw and down your neck. His tongue skimming across your sensitive skin and the constant knowing you can’t even make all the sounds Mingyu was currently working hard to elicit from your plush lips were driving you completely mad with lust. 

You needed to scream, but you couldn’t, so instead, you whimpered “close, so close,” as you clenched around him. The action made juices spill out of you and down your legs as Mingyu kept thrusting to get you where you needed, spreading your slick all over your legs and making the sounds of your dirty escapades echo through the entire room. 

“God, I love you,” Mingyu whispered into your ear as he sucked on that sensitive spot right below your ear. “You look so gorgeous all fucked out by my cock, loving being stretched out don’t you?”

His words had you clenching around him, walls fluttering like crazy at the low rumble that was his voice soo close to your ear. 

Your back was hitting the shelves behind you, making the books rattle in their places and if you hadn’t been way too caught up in chasing your high you might have worried about the entire place falling down like bricks of dominoes. That wasn’t something you could make yourself think about though, your high making your nerves feel electric as Mingyus’s strokes had the smooth skin of his groin rubbing against your clit and sending your mind to cloud nine instead. 

To keep yourself from howling as the wave of pleasure you had been chasing began crashing down on you, you grabbed Mingyus’s face, kissing him with such fervor there was no way he could deny that you were coming undone on his cock. 

When you started calming down from your high you let go of his lips, enough for him to gasp out what was on his own mind as yours was too fuzzy to make any coherent sentences at all. 

“So good for me, keeping quiet just like you need to, aren’t you being such a good little slut for me sweetheart?” 

You nodded, pleasure still flowing freely through your body as he kept pumping himself in and out of your heat, now slicker than ever with your cum leaking out and running down his heavy balls. “Gyu baby, please Gyu- I want your cum in me,” you whined as you began kissing down his neck in return for his previous actions. You hear him swear in the distance, the way his strokes sped up made the sound seem much further away than it was to your borderline overstimulated self. 

“I’m gonna-,” Mingyu tried before you could feel his hot cum leaking out inside of you and beginning to drip out of your now cumdrenched pussy as his hips continued to stutter from his own pleasure. 

You were still kissing his neck, licking sloppily wherever you saw fit, no longer thinking about the kind of situation you were in until you heard Mingyu’s chuckle as his large hands stroked up and down your sides until he reached the side of your cheek. Your head instinctively followed the warmth of his hand, pulling you away from where you were latched onto his neck and up to face him as he smiled lazily. 

“Is this what you needed? Yeah? Tight little pussy filled with my cum for valentines?” he snickered, knowing that you still felt high on the feeling of him filling you up so good. You smiled a dazed smile back at him, nodding and seeming incredibly pleased with yourself and the whole situation. With a hum he pecked you before he slipped out of you, and quickly pulled up your underwear and pants, leaving the cum inside you to leak out and completely soil your already slick-filled underwear. 

“Alrighty then,” Mingyu said, his entire expression letting you know he felt a bit mischievous as he fully intended to send you back to your assignment with his cum still inside of you. 

“Guy!” you almost shrieked out as you looked at his little half-smirk and glittery eyes, “I can’t just-” 

“Oh c’mon now, I thought this was what you wanted. Is it not?” he teased with the cocky raise of his eyebrow. “Dirty little ones will simply have to deal with being soaked like this until they finish their little assignment, won’t they?”

The smile he flashed you with the complementary wink had you pouting to hide the smile that fought to creep onto your face. 

“You’re evil, mister Eros,” you said before you pulled him in to place a peck on his lips. Before you knew it though, the peck turned into a lingering kiss, making your body react once again and sending your mind racing towards what you would do when you got home as both revenge and thank you for the wonderful day he had prepared. 

As you were leaving the aisles of books and heading for the staircase, Mingyu suddenly stopped for just a second, grabbing the first book he saw before continuing. You gave him an inquisitive look as he handed it to you while you walked up the stairs, before remembering that you had used the book excuse to lure him away from other living beings earlier. 

At least the effort had been made you thought, thankful to your boyfriend for at least trying to cover up what you had just done even though the first thing Vernon had remarked on when you got back was on the book he had chosen. 

“Geology? You don’t study geology, why did you- never mind…” he said, his eyes scanning the state of the both of you before adding, “You should probably fix your hair Mingyu, and your shirt is all fucked up y/n.” 

Your head snapped to your shirt, which previously had been neatly tucked in in your shirt and which was now a messed up half-tuck paired with some sort of half-assed buttoning up. Shit, you thought, before your head snapped up to look at Mingyu’s messy hair, standing in all directions after you had apparently messed that up unbeknownst to you. 

Both of you were already half panicking when you heard Vernon muttering something along with “...these dirty bastards,” under his breath as he went back in to eat the burrito he had ordered for himself as a pick-me-up while he continued on with his assignment. At this, neither of you was able to contain your laughs. The sound of you both all but falling to the floor in a fit of giggles made the few people who were still in the mostly empty room scowl at you along with some groans from the incredibly tired students. 

“Fuck this, let’s go,” you said, gasping to regain your breath from the laughter. Quickly you packed up all your stuff as Mingyu snickered behind you still. And you went, leaving the chocolate Mingyu had brought you for Vernon, as a sort of apology for wherever trauma you two had given him. 

Your plans for the evening could not wait for your assignment to be done you thought as you dragged your boyfriend and your bag out of the library to properly celebrate Valentine’s at home where you could show him just how grateful you were. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[navigation post!]

[avissapiens]

Jockbull Summer Final Week Set B (1/1/24-7/1/24)

Model Used is Oliver Forslin

The bulk of this set was a total wash ngl

1.

Started on a totally new training regiment. A modified Prebuilt PPL from Jeff Nippard (registered Shortstack big titty science bro). So im usually more honed in on that and I want to give myself as good a chance as possible with the new movements. That unfortunately doesn’t mean freeballing it.

2.

Ideally i’d like to work at my own gym once this is all over. Maybe get some of the richer high schoolers with Mommy’s money to hire me out so they stop training like morons. But it came to my attention that they already hired on 2 new trainers out of nowhere that i’d never seen before. So who knows. The alternative course would be applying at my University rec center now that it’s finally reopened. It would mean a massive readjustment of my schedule and soo much stress having to come in on days i don’t even have school. But it would mean a bit of extra security in income since the school would pay out of the Student’s rec center registrations. Plus, there are a fair few studs on campus. Not many since it's a research university in the middle of a city, but there are some. I suppose the final option that might end up blowing up in my face is leveraging the 4 years of hard community building work i've done and going into Online coaching. Combine the hypno spin with an actual plan to help dudes transform. I think that's pretty reasonable.

3.

Got a single one of these in on probably the worst day to get it in on. No sleep. Minor fever. House bullshit and an infinite amount of fucking stress leading on to the rest of the week. And then the next day realizing that 25 mins straight of decently high resistance cycling isn’t great for my fucking knees. Sighhhh. The relationship with cardio is so precarious.

4.

Same justification as number 1. This Nippard programme has Dropsets integrated intp some of the exercises and I want to stick to it fairly closely. It’s not bad, but the stimulus to fatigue feels so weird. I don’t get crazy pumps from it which is a bummer cause i’m FINALLY back on carbs and could swell tf up. But this workout tuckers me out and leaves me sore the next few days. Which doesn’t normally happen unless its for novel movements. Interesting state of things Mr Nippard. I shall keep at it for now but i feel like i got a better stimulus with my own designed workout.

5.

Speaking of being back on carbs. The first couple weeks of shifting from a heavy cut to maintainence again (roughly. I imagine i’m still in a slight deficit), is that your body retains more water again because of the new replenished thirsty carb stores. This means I look fairly soft, fairly round. Especially in my cheeks. SOooooo fewer pics taken because i would like to not take psychic damage.

[selfpositiveundertale]

Update

CW: discussion of trauma (the trauma was a bad car accident)

I was able to pay for my dog's vet appointment and her medicine thanks to the person who paypal'd me ❤️❤️❤️ She isn't happy about having to take medicine again but hopefully this will be the last round, it's pretty much just probiotics and something to settle her stomach because the antibiotics really did a number on her tummy.

My hands ache from the crash but it's no worse than the soreness after crocheting for several hours. I can do some crocheting but I find thicker yarn much easier and less painful to work with right now. That said, I got a bunch of chenille yarn a while back and I have some larger plush versions of my Ralsei amogus dolls in the works. The first one is almost done, I just have to assemble and attach the hat. Will post a pic when he's done. I want to have at least 2 each with and without squeakers made and then I might reopen my Etsy shop and list them. They will cost more due to the cost of materials, but I'll probably mostly have dolls made of the chenille yarn for a while, at least until I can work with normal yarn without pain within minutes again. I'm hoping to sell a couple by Tuesday because I have another chiropractic appointment that day I'll need to pay for and my husband doesn't get paid again until Friday.

I'm still trying to process what happened. I'm seeing my therapist tomorrow and I will be discussing it with her. This therapist is new to me, my previous one that I had for a few years left the place I'm with and is now working elsewhere. We've only had like 2 sessions but she seems nice. It's just a little frustrating having to break in a new therapist all over again but not really a problem so I'm not worried.

I drove today, to take my dog to the vet. It was scary. I didn't realize how paranoid I would be of other drivers, fully expecting anyone and everyone to whip out in front of me when they're waiting to exit a parking lot to the road or suddenly veer into my lane when they're right beside me and I panicked every time I saw them. It took a lot of self control to not slam on the brakes and to remind myself that other people are not going to do things like that. I have to remember I know how to drive safely and most people are not going to be so reckless as to do the dangerous things my brain is expecting them to do. My anxiety around driving is almost back to where it was while I was still very new at it, terrified to be on the road with other people and having no trust in them and even less trust in myself. I have to build up my confidence again and I have no idea how long it will take.

I have to say, getting hit by one huge trauma all at once sure feels different from the trauma I'm used to, which is the kind that builds up over many years in a toxic and dysfunctional family. It's kind of surreal, I find myself wondering if it was all a dream but then I see the bruises on my legs and feel the ache in my palms and how stiff and sore my body still is even after a chiropractic appointment and see the empty space where I would have parked my vehicle and I have to remember it really happened. I get this weird chill that seeps up the back of my head like cold water in my hair when I remember it. And yeah, I'm grateful I walked away with nothing worse than bruises and stuff my chiropractor fixes literally all the time anyway, but I wish it didn't happen.

It's all such a mess. Right now I'm just trying to focus on keeping myself fed with good food and busy with things that can make some money. I'm making chili tomorrow because it's one of the less expensive things I can make, and also I could use some comfort food after the week I've had. And maybe the familiar routine of cooking the beans will help soothe my brain. I only use dry beans as I can't stand the texture of canned beans. Cooking them isn't difficult or complicated, just time consuming and I think the 2 or 3 hours it'll take to cook them will do me some good.

It's after midnight and I'm exhausted, so I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Goodnight, and stay determined.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[emedeme]

Hello hello! All the orders from my store have been shipped If your order includes a tracking number, it should be in your inboxes now! ♥

We're having our European elections next week so the post might be a bit slow, but you should receive your orders soon. There was an issue with a couple of orders, but I contacted you guys as well for that, so please check your inboxes and get back to me asap so we can fix it 🧐

I'll probably reopen again during the summer, thank you for supporting my tiny store!

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 9

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2160 (average 16 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

I looked for Altan everywhere, but I could not find him. I was at the market every morning looking for him. The vendors grew annoyed at my presence every morning. They told me I was bad for business with my grim expression. I didn’t really pay them any mind because I was too concerned about other things.

I told myself to stop worrying, that Altan clearly had just moved on now that things were done between us. I knew he had left home to get away from his father - or at least I assumed that from the way he talked - and I knew he likely couldn’t stay here forever. I had just hoped that all of those talks we had would mean something more…that maybe I could take the time to get to know him more.

I reopened my forge, tried to resume my work, but found that my mind would always stray to Altan and my hand would go up to the vial on my neck, playing with it. There was just this nagging feeling.

I was useless, completely useless. I found nothing could keep my focus for longer than a few minutes. My mind started to paint a different picture. What if Altan hadn’t left by choice? What if something was wrong? Something was telling me not to rest, not to settle down until I found him. 

I finally grew desperate enough to ask some of the inns around if they knew of him. Each one would consider me warily before answering. 

Luck would find me after a couple days of this, when the wife of one of the innkeeper’s pulled me down to take a seat and tell me all about the sweet boy she took care of that matched Altan’s description exactly. She handed me a piling plate of food - told me I looked like I could use it - before she told me all about how he would come and play at nights for the tenants.

“He had such an angelic voice. He sounded just like one of those glorious elves I hear about.” She reminisced. “He hid himself in his room for almost a week after a certain point. I left food at his door, and when he came out, he was a sorry mess.” She shook her head, her voice turning morose, “Not long after that, some official men came looking for him. They told us that he was the son of a duke. They grabbed his things and went and found him at the bathhouse and I suppose he’s back home.” She shook her head again. “He really was such a sweet young man.”

I felt my blood grow cold at the news of Altan being taken by his father’s people. His father was a Duke, a man of high rank. That meant Altan was also a noble. Immediate feelings of inadequacy and shame overwhelmed me. Who was I to Altan if nothing more than a distraction from his comfortable life? Maybe I was nothing more than a dalliance for the summer. I left the inn, feeling deflated and unsure what to do next.

I couldn’t sleep that night, my mind still stuck on Altan. I could swear that I was still experiencing lordhovid with all the time I was consumed thinking about him. I was worried. Genuinely worried. He didn’t say hardly two words about his father…but somehow I knew, I just knew that it meant something bad for him to be going back to him. He must have run away for a reason.

He had told me how much he had admired me and how I was his first friend. I couldn’t take any of that lightly. If he needed help, I might be the only person who could help him. 

The next day, I found myself stepping into the town’s library for the first time ever. The librarian looked at me with reluctance and disbelief that an orc would be in a library of all places. I ignored their ignorant comments, “Do you have any family charts of the Dukes that rule around here?” 

“What would you need it for?” The librarian asked.

“Do you have one or not?” I pressed, my tone impatient. 

The librarian’s eyes widened in fright and scurried away, returning with a book from a few years back that lists all of the Noble family names throughout the continent. 

I was still not the best at reading the common language, so I borrowed a paper and quill and wrote Altan’s name out so I could see exactly what it looked like and then my finger trailed over the lists, looking for any matches. The librarian watched me closely as I studied each name, one by one. I finally stopped when I found his name under the Family Hilmar. I ran my finger across his name again and again. Altan Hilmar. Altan Hilmar. His father was Taliesin Hilmar of Berdusk. His mother Telmira from Evermeet. A sun elf. 

The librarian aided me with a copy of a map that I studied finding the paths that would take me to Berdusk and I left with the librarian watching me with disbelief. 

The next day, I closed my forge again to the dismay of all my neighbors and customers and I was on the road again, this time with the intent to find Altan. I hoped that maybe seeing him would help me make sense of all of the feelings and thoughts I kept having about him and maybe I could help him too. 

The maps I followed that led me to Berdusk made the travel look straightforward. I kept to the main roads most of the time. I found my hand on the vial more and more often as my mind strayed to Altan through my walking. He was the main occupying thought in my brain. How was he? Was he safe? Is he happy? Am I wrong to do this? What if this is all a fools’ errand? Will he be happy to see me? What will I do when I see him? I pondered that last one a lot and I couldn’t deny that my arms around his waist was a frequent vision in my head. I still wondered what that would feel like.

When I entered the gates of Berdusk, not more than 6 days later, I noticed that most people’s eyes fell on me. It was not much of a diverse town. They were mainly human and they all seemed to watch me with a wary gaze. I caught one eye of a dragonborn who looked at me with an understanding nod. I nodded back before passing on and making my way towards the first inn I could spot. 

“We don’t make beds for folks like you.” The innkeeper said, glaring.

I nodded, “I’ll pay for a room with two beds then.”

“Don’t got any of those.” He said. 

I could spot the lie in his answer, but I didn’t fight it, instead I gave him my coin and walked up the stairs to where my room was. 

What in all of the nine hells was I doing here?

I played with the vial again and stared at the crimson liquid. I had pondered that little vial a lot while on the road and had considered maybe drinking it. It would have eased my anxiety of knowing exactly where Altan was, but I also didn’t know if it would be safe for him if I did that. I needed to know where he was before I did anything so foolish. Plus, I didn’t know what I really wanted yet. To see Altan, yes. To mate with him…that one still terrified me. But less so. If anyone were to be my mate…oh hells, these thoughts were so unfamiliar to me.

The bed was incredibly uncomfortable and I didn’t sleep well, but I awoke early in the morning and made my way towards the large mansion that sat above the rest of the town. I knew that would be where the Duke would be. However it was little use trying to make an appointment to meet with the Duke. The guards up front scoffed at my asking and dismissed me immediately without a dire need. I found myself growing more and more uncomfortable in this place.

I paced through the streets, my eyes always on the mansion above. I kept hoping I could spot him. I kept hoping I would find the answer I needed to know he was here, that he was okay. 

I never really got accustomed to the way people stared at me, and I felt like all of them were holding back their insults until I did something wrong. I was constantly on my guard. I didn’t really sleep much either. I started to have funny dreams of Altan alone in a room, separated from everyone and everything, pounding against a sealed door, begging to be set free, for someone to let him out. It troubled me every time I woke up from it. I didn’t know if it was my own brain making up this story…or if I should put more weight behind this dream.

I found myself on the main thoroughfare of the town when I noticed a crowd forming along both sides of the road. There was an excited energy about the people. I hung to the back of the forming crowds and wound through the shadows, staying out of sight. I was about to head inside and make myself scarce when I heard the people around me talking.

“It’s hunting day. That’ll be the Duke and his men coming down that hill” I heard a woman say to another woman.

I jerked my head up and looked up the road and felt my heart beat fast as I watched as a large gathering of men on horses slowly made their way down the main road. A pale-skinned man in a red robe was taking the lead on his own steed, looking proud as he waved to the people. His hair was dark, graying, and he wore a circlet. To his right was an even larger man with red-brown hair, a beard and dressed in armor. The men behind were also all armoured and their faces were concealed in helmets, except for three young riders that rode in the center of the guard. Each were young, tawny-skinned and bright eyed, more elfin in their features. And there in the middle, was the one with crimson curls and a strained smile on his face as he waved.

Altan. 

My Altan. 

My breath caught as I saw him there. He was there. He was there. He was right there.

Lordhovid was nothing compared to the want I felt then to jump in front of the horses and stall them from going any further. 

I gripped the vial and shouted his name before I could stop myself. 

He looked over in my direction, searching for who could have said his name. He drew his horse back and slowed, looking through the crowds. His smile fell when he saw me and over the din of the cheers and adulations from the crowds I could only see him mouth “Drun.” And I saw the same longing look in his eyes. We understood each other in that moment.

Our eyes did not stray from each other as the gathering passed on and even as he was going further and further from me, his head swiveled to keep me in his sight. He yelled something back at me, but I couldn’t hear or read his lips. I swam through the crowd, trying to keep him in my sight. I couldn’t let him go. 

“Altan!” I yelled again. Something in me, something I didn’t dare name, was pushing me to stay near him. I couldn’t lose him. 

I stood, devastated to watch him leave me. I pushed my way through the crowds and wrestled my way down the thoroughfare, doing everything in my power to keep him in my sights. I needed to know where he was going. I cut through alleyways to pass through the crowds. My orc hunting skills had never really left me and as I sniffed the air, I could follow the dust trail left behind by the horses and I cut through every back road I could until I could find them again at the bottom of the hill. 

Altan’s eyes met mine again and he shook his head. “Don’t.” 

He was warning me. I glanced over to the man at the front of the team and I saw steel in his eyes as he met my gaze. He turned back to Altan, then back at me. His gaze hardened and he urged the horses to go faster. His eyes followed me as they rode passed and I met his gaze with my own steely glare. He would not have my Altan.

[avatarthelastairgender]

please update us on Kimber Fischer, the people want to know

KIMBER FISCHER IS DOING UHHHHH

OKAY!

i'm trying to remember the last big kimber update i gave. was it her dying? was it her dying for whitney? if so, there's a LOT to catch up on

context: after kimber was killed in the aforementioned (a million years ago) pirate airship city of braal, her and whitney's hometown had been under threat. the city is run by four powerful judges, and the one who was Not fond of us and orchestrated the whole death trial thing vowed to burn our hometown to the ground. that was before realizing what a uniquely important physical location it is (ask me about Below!), turning this from an intimidating threat into a strategic promise. so finale's been under threat for awhile as we've been gearing up to defend ourselves against this imminent Braal invasion, and they've been ramping up the pressure. this is how things have been for the year kimber was dead.

so kimber was brought back to life, right— to be honest she was pretty happy in her afterlife and wasn't that keen on returning. she was kind of guilt tripped, a bit, by whitney? but, also, frankly that is kind of understandable on whitney's part. again: finale is at risk of being burnt to the ground by pirates! even beyond the fact that she missed her best friend who was dead for a year— we were both needed! so kimber agreed to be brought back, but she had a very difficult time readjusting. this was for a variety of reasons: the physical sensory aspects of feeling gravity and hunger and pain again, the emotional toll of missing being in a place where all her needs were met and she felt no sense of urgency, the feeling that her being back was somehow making her parents and loved ones more sad and reopening old wounds, and the worry that being brought back from a very nice afterlife meant potentially being separated from her loved ones next time death comes for her, one day.

more context: so wayyyyy back in the day, in Campaign 1, when they were 17, this was when kimber was still in horrible crushing debt (ask me about bristol!), they were visiting a neighbouring city whose leader was about to choose which of his students would succeed him as new archon of the city, and kimber was coerced incentivized to help deliver the guy a box that Feebleminded him, leading to uhhhhhhhh a fascist taking power of the city in a coup. so UH that city's been IN A BAD STATE for several years now. SO with the looming invasion of our own town, our few revolutionary contacts in that city, and after a couple weeks of everyone struggling to readjust to kimber being alive again, they set out to connect with their contacts and do what they could to help.

lots went down, but throughout a lot of it kimber was still struggling with being alive. i promise the distinction matters: she didn't want to die, she certainly wouldn't want to do that to her friends and family and make them grieve her again, but she did want to not have been revived. throughout a lot of the arc and especially after learning she might be able to acquire a Wish, she was pretty keen on finding a way to undo the resurrection. BUT, as things go, she became uhhhhhhhh a very integral part of the rebellion, as did whitney!!! to the point where they actually did manage to succeed at helping the others depose the fascist in power! and removing herself from the timeline, as it were, might not even be possible let alone good. HENCE, when kimber did manage to get the wish, her saying to whitney 'hey, straight up, i do not trust myself with this wishing power because i think i might use it to, literally, unalive. i need you to make the wish for me, and i need you to use it to turn kiki into a person'*

*if you'll remember, kiki is (was?) her simulacrum who was originally created to die in her place, and who kimber refused to send to die after realizing that is a sapient person, and part of the reason this whole situation went so tits up in the first place.

SO she gets the wish, gets whitney's help using it to turn kiki into a real girl, and frankly overall, it is a pretty successful time helping out the city. things are not perfect by any means when they leave, and it's going to be a long and arduous process, but they were really helpful integral parts in setting things right.

some other fun things have happened since then— we saved some people from a time loop! we went on vacation! we made a bunch of money at a festival! but the BIG thing that's coming up next is us returning to Braal. we know the date of the invasion and we want to stop or weaken it at all costs. kimber, at least as long as she's on this continent, cannot publicly reveal that she's alive. so, she's been pretending to be kiki to pretty much everyone except her friends and immediate family. she is currently using this to try and sabotage Braal. she spoke to the first mate of the aforementioned pirate judge who was responsible for her death and managed to convince him that 1) she was kiki, and 2) kiki wanted to betray whitney and finale, because (and this is true, this did actually happen) all of kimber's loved ones were... kind of not great to kiki in the year that kimber was dead? in the sense of sort of ignoring her completely? it turns out having someone who looks and acts exactly like a perfect copy of your dead daughter, and who was supposed to die in her place, kind of reopens the wound? hence, kimber using this to try and convince the people in Braal that she's on their side and sabotage them. they're heading there pretty soon, but to be honest she still has not processed a lot of the events leading up to her death, and her inability to think clearly about what's happened is harming her ability to form a coherent plan going into Braal.

SO WE'LL SEE HOW IT GOES. we play again on wednesday

[riahlynn101]

Whumptober Day Thirty: "Not Much Longer Now."

Takes place in the FNAF movie universe.

This is a work in progress, but I've been so busy. Day 29 (which I'll post sometime today) and day 30 are basically the same story told from two Point of views. This one is Garrett's POV. And day 29 is Mike's.

I'm going to put the story under a read more just in case I decide to include spoilers.

Trigger warnings: Child death, major character death, blood, gore, implied/referenced kidnapping.

Edited 10/31/2023 - added onto the story. Minor grammar and spelling edits.

Garrett can still recall the pain he felt. The knife ripping into his flesh. Uncle William staring down at him with a cold expression, not a hint of remorse in his eyes. He remembers calling out for his brother. 

Mike never failed to show up before. Rushing into his bedroom during a thunderstorm to make sure Garrett’s okay. Checking under his bed for monsters every night without fail. And letting Garrett curl up next to him whenever he got scared. 

But that day, for one reason or another, his brother never showed up. 

Garrett died…scared and alone and-

The next couple decades are an endless blur of nightmares. Terrible beasts with claws and forked tongues chasing and lunging at him.

Sometimes, though, he’d get lucky. Instead of beating back monsters with a flashlight, Garrett would find himself being forced to reenact his last moments with his family. It should frighten him, being forced to do anything. But he gets to see his family again, and it’s the last good memory he has. 

He likes being able to play again, zooming around the picnic table with his toy airplane. Mike bought it for him with his birthday money. Garrett loved that toy until the day he died. Quite literally too, he died holding it. 

The only bad part of the dream is seeing his big brother so distressed. Watching Mike run after the car, calling out his name, hurts. His heart aches terribly. He longs to reach out to his brother, hug him and tell him that it’s okay. That despite what happened, it’s not his fault. None of it is Mike’s fault. 

But slowly, over the years, that wish changed. 

It morphed into something more permanent. 

A simple hug and some meaningless words wouldn’t suffice. His brother spent years ruminating on his kidnapping. Sure, it might work in the moment, but what happens when Mike wakes up? Will he be satisfied, or will his self-blaming tendencies come back in full swing?

Garrett puts his plan into motion. 

It starts with the reopening of a long abandoned pizzeria. When management starts talking about hiring a security guard, Mike’s file ends up on their desk. 

He talks with the other children, and makes sure that they know not to mess with Mike. They listen to him-for the most part-but Cassidy glares at him. Not that Garrett cares. As long as they leave his brother alone, they can hate him all they want. 

The next part of his plan is left to chance. It’s hard to maneuver the marionette, so leaving the pizzeria is hard. And it’s not like he can threaten his brother into taking the position anyway. Well, he can-if he could leave-but Garrett doesn’t want his brother to take the job out of fear. 

Instead, he calls his brother, dialing the only number that he could ever remember. His voice isn’t picked up by the receiver, so Garrett has to get creative. A customer left a speak and spell, so he uses that to communicate. 

He doesn’t have a lot of time, so he chooses his words carefully. Something that can’t be confused with anything else. 

“C…O….M….E…..F…I….N…D…..M….E….”

His brother always just hangs up the phone. Which Garrett finds to be a little bit rude. Their mom raised them better than that. He’ll have to remind him of that when they meet again. 

Mike takes the job, thankfully. And the kids do their part and stay away. Cassidy is noticeably absent most of the week, but Garrett has bigger things to worry about. 

The one and only thing that gets in his way during the week is the stupid music box. Whenever it’s played, he’s forced into a deep slumber. A deep slumber with the same monsters that have tormented him all these many years. And there’s no way to disable it, Garrett’s tired - many times. 

Fortunately, his brother slips up. He falls asleep at the security desk, head pillowed by his arms. The music box slows down until it stops entirely. 

Garrett maneuvers the marionette, maneuvering it through hallways and into the main office. He watches his brother sleep, a peaceful look on his face. Putting the marionette down, he creeps closer. 

He touches Mike’s forehead, setting the final part of his plan into motion. 

Garrett stands in the same forest that he was kidnapped from. The sun is out, shining down through the treetops. 

“Mike!” He calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Mikey!”

“Garrett!?”

Garrett whirls around to face his brother. “Mike!” He shouts, practically launching himself at his brother. It has been way too long since he could hug him. 

His brother hugs him tightly, body wracked with sobs. Tears stream from his eyes, but Garrett chooses not to mention it. Mike has always been weird about crying, especially in front of people. Which strikes him as odd, given that their parents used to encourage them to cry if they had big emotions. 

“I…I’ve missed you,” Mike murmurs. 

“Missed you too.”

“And I’m sorry. I should have-” 

Garrett cuts him off. This is supposed to be a happy moment, and he isn’t going to let his brother spiral into unhappy thoughts. “Nope. Not here. Not today.”

Sniffling, Mike nods. “Okay…yeah. Sorry.” He returns to hugging Garrett. 

Eventually, when they pull away from each other, he takes his brother by the hand. “I want to show you something.”

And his brother accepts his hand without thinking twice, because of course he does. Mike has no reason not to trust him. They walk through the forest, underbrush crunching under their feet. 

“Uh…Gar…where are we going?”

He smiles at his brother, who now looks exactly how Garrett remembers him. A child only five to six years older than him. “Not much longer now. You’re going to love it.”

His brother mutters something under his breath, but he ignores it. 

They arrive at a clearing. It’s full of flowers. Daisies and roses and sunflowers as far as the eye can see. Garrett turns to his brother. 

“Do you like it?”

“It’s…pretty…” Mike says, sounding a little unsure of what to say. “Did you do this?”

“No.”

“Then who-”

“Do you want to stay here forever?”

His brother looks at him, confused. “What?”

“Do. You. Want. To. Stay. Here. Forever? With me, I mean.”

“Gar, I…can’t. We have a sister now, and she still needs me.”

That’s what he thought Mike was going to say, but it doesn’t hurt any less. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Mike asks, backing up a little bit. 

“Okay. I understand.” He doesn’t. It’s not fair. Why is Abby more important than him? He knew Mike first. “Before you wake up, can I have a hug?”

“Sure,” Mike says, though there’s a slight hesitation in his words. Like he’s afraid of Garrett, which is ridiculous because he wouldn’t hurt his brother without a good reason. He wraps his arms around Garrett.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” he whispers. Before his brother can ask what he means, Garrett plunges a knife in his back. His brother falls back.

Garrett stands over him, watching him wraith around in agony. “It’s going to be okay,” he tries his best to sound reassuring. He steps forward, knife poised in the air. 

“N-no! Stop, Garrett! What are you doing?” He scoots backward, using his arms to shield his face. 

“It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Garrett strikes his brother’s chest with the knife, making sure to hit his heart. The less suffering he puts Mike through, the better. 

His brother cries out one last time. 

He smiles down at his brother. All the pain will be worth it, he silently promises Mike. 

We can finally be together again….forever. 

[foxwayart]

State of personal affairs (IMPORTANT)

(TL;DR will be towards the bottom for those who don’t wanna read my ramblings, but I’d prefer you did since this is important.) Hey everyone, hope you’re all doing well, I’ll cut to the point by saying that I am not. For the past… We’ll say couple of months I’ve been on something of a mental health spiral, and it hasn’t really gotten any better save for my time at the Con. Which was a nice, but very brief reprieve. The whys of this dip in my well being are pretty varied, and some of it I’m not really able to talk about, whether for personal reasons or respect for others. But to put it broadly, work has been stressful, home has been stressful, my health has been stressful, everything has been stressful, and as it stands I don’t think I can keep up with things right now. So I’m taking a small break from working on commissions, and allowing myself a bit more breathing room when it comes to my streams (which is to say the next few streams may be much smaller scale, more chill chatting streams.)  

Now before any of you who commissioned me recently panic: With my current comms I will still be updating you guys, just at a slower rate than normal, I don’t intend to leave you guys in the lurch. But if by the time I’m done with them I still feel this bad, I probably won’t reopen my queue like I’ve been doing nonstop for the past while now. At least if I can financially help it… Streams like I said are gonna be a bit more lax. I’ll probably finish Pinkie Tower, but after that? I dunno, chatting and maybe some light doodling. Dunno how this will affect Sinner’s Saturday since some kind of income would be nice, but this week we’re definitely doing something different, just have to figure out what.  And yes, I still owe you guys that Discord movie night, we’ll be doing that soon. As for how long this time off is gonna be? No clue, it might only be a few days honestly, but the longest I’m giving myself is two weeks cause I just can’t afford any longer than that. And speaking of “affording”, it’s time for literally my least favourite part of the job. The shilling™️. I probably won’t really be making much if any money during this period, so if you ever wanted to support my work with a nice tip. Now would be the time. You have no idea how much even a small tip of a few dollars can help.https://ko-fi.com/foxweyman I’m not gonna sugar coat this folks. I make peanuts on my work. That’s no one’s fault, it's just the nature of being both a small artist and streamer, it’s something I’ve come to peace with as a fact of my career choices. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t stress me out. Part of why I can never usually take breaks at all is because I literally can’t afford to.

I have rent to pay, phone bills, internet, electricity bills, hormone pills, pet expenses including; food, potential vet visits, toys, poo bags, cat litter, etc. I have to have money saved up incase of an emergency whether personal or work related (computer parts need replacing, tablet needs replacing etc), then there's house expenses; food, toilet paper, cleaning supplies; replacing anything we need etc. It’s a lot, even with our packed house.

The only reason I'm able to go to Furnal Equinox or Canfurence is because I start saving up money month after month after month as a treat to myself, and even when there I tend to bring my work so I can get my commission queue done faster and reopen them again as soon as the con is done.

I’ve been told to raise my prices but let’s be honest, I’m not at the level where I can charge hundreds upon hundreds of dollars for pieces, and while this may be a pessimistic view of my work, I probably won’t be able to any time soon. Same with stream goals, I don’t feel like there’s much I can offer right now that would be worth $500 goals or something.

I’d open a merch shop or something but that would be even more stressful upkeep, and again let’s be real. My reach isn’t big enough for that and you can only sell the same merch to the same customer base for so long.

I apologize if it seems like I’m ragging on about the money, but of all the things I’m dealing with it’s the easiest to talk about because it’s something I think at least a few of you can relate to. That and the more personal troubles cut a bit deeper and I’m not sure I even really wanna talk about them because I don’t like dragging you guys down with me. We’ve made an awesome little community and I don’t need to be hurting you with my problems. Is that the healthiest way of looking at it? No probably not but there it is.

Above all that though I just want some more time to myself and the people I care about, not fretting every second that “I could be working” or “I could be monetizing this”, instead of focusing on improving my mental health so I can be a better creator for you guys, and a better person for me. I wanna draw for myself again,even if it’s just low stakes doodles or barely cohesive comic pages, or hell even just to work on my poor draftwomanship .I wanna let myself play some games and not think “Oh I have to stream this”,  every time I do. I wanna be able to go out with my loved ones and not constantly be thinking “WHY AM I NOT WORKING ON COMMISSIONS???”

So TL;DR taking a light break, not sure how long exactly, will keep current customers in the loop, streams aren’t going anywhere but may be a bit different, please tip to the ko-fi so I can stay afloat during this time https://ko-fi.com/foxweyman

For those that read through, thank you so much, it means the world that you care enough about my mental health to drudge through my ravings. You’re truly the best part of this job. A wonderful community that I can just chat and be honest with, I can laugh and joke with you all without fear or anxiety. That’s exceedingly rare these days and I couldn’t be more appreciative of you lot.

That in mind, this took awhile to write, my hands are hurting, and I wanna go lie down, maybe allow myself a good cry. Thanks everyone. <3

- Blaire,“Drfoxweyman” 

[echonidae]

a buncha headshot portraits! three out of five portraits, i'm finishing up the last two c: the sketches here are from way back in august/september, and i fiddled with them for some weeks on end trying to make Something out of them, then proceeded to frustratedly shelf the lot of them away. so it's nice to see at least these three all finished up now :') and they were really nice to work on too ;v;

but ohoho okay, this is a lot of announcements in one single post, so bear with me a moment :3c here's a tl;dr first: 1) headshot portraits as a new commission option maybe? :0ccc 2) commissions are opening again on monday, jan. 23rd! 3) separate commission info webpage for reading convenience (particularly for folks on mobile) 4) commission rules changes: payment in full & upfront, rather than half-and-half 5) two-slots-per-person rule will be no more and folks are free to send as many orders as they want, but any ones after the second will go into the queue instead 6) also a small change with unoccupied queue slots

the rest is under the readmore :')

so, i've been thinking about adding this sort of portrait as a commission option!! fairly simple compositions but fully rendered (because i darn love painting so much; cellshading is nice and all, but coloring it all in one layer is just... heart-eyes), on the big 2600px to 3800px canvases as well c: and i'm thinking of pricing commissions like these at 28 USD (feels like a good price but i'm accepting feedback on that — the point was to add something that's just straight up fully-rendered, but for the lower end of the pricetable, and the limitations of a headshot portrait feel fitting enough on both sides ;v; )

also portraits like these are fairly quick to draw, so the turnaround time would be fairly short! add to it that 1) these are fun, 2) i could use focusing on just the face and expressions rather than elaborate poses and all, 3) portraiture lighting my beloved, and 4) these are painted, and don't take forever to figure out or paint. :D but yeah, let me know what you think of the headshot portrait option!! would you folks be interested in something like this? :0c

and now hold on a moment, i have more things to say!! xD

commissions are reopening monday, jan. 23rd, at the usual 5pm BRT (UTC -3:00)!

6 active slots (previously known as regular slots; can't believe it's taken me years to figure out a better way of calling these orz), as well as another 24 slots on queue. these will remain open until further notice; money's tight right now, hence the lack of closing date :')

there should be plenty of slots either way tho, so no rush at all! but i apologize for the super short notice orz

also, i went and got all the commission info on a separate webpage on wix instead. here you go!

should be easier to access and read through stuff, particularly on mobile — or at least i sincerely hope it is, please leave me feedback if you can!!! let me know if you encounter Problems, i've looked and combed through every bit of these four (4) pages but i might have missed stuff still, pretty please let me know if you run into any Issues! ;-;

but yeah, the website has all the rules and info and all the different options as well, with extra examples and all. on monday, you'll also be able place orders directly through there, i made a little form and all c': technically the form is already there but pls don't send requests yet, i can't reserve slots ahead of time!

also also, and these are the last things i've got to say, i promise (and thank you if you've read this far!),

a couple commission rules are changing!

1) from this new batch onwards, i'll be charging commissions in full & upfront instead of the half-half system i'd been doing up until this point. the exception is if an order exceeds $80 USD; for those ones we'll return to the half-before-sketch + half-once-finished situation instead!

but how's that? :0c i hope this is alright, but please let me know if this would make commissions just... unaffordable ;o; i do really like the half-half system, and i'd rather keep it, but it's either this or raising prices, and i don't think i can do that yet :T either way, please let me know your thoughts on the matter!!

2) the only-two-slots-per-person rule will no longer be in effect, so go ham with multiple orders if you wish on monday — the caveat is that i'll still be working only on two orders at a time per person, so if you order three things, the third one will be placed at the end of the queue c:

looking back i could've... done this from the beginning. orz it should be more convenient to send multiple orders if you have 'em!

and finally, 3) if the queue list hits its closing date with slots still available, folks who have already ordered and would like to get in the queue again can go on and grab those empty queue slots if they want, instead of being limited to two slots per person per batch, and then having to wait for an entire new batch.

i opened this exception for the last round of commissions (thank you once again to the folks who wanted repeats ;-; ) so i thought i should just make it into a proper thing instead, since it does make sense to do it anyway — the queue list is purposefully filled with a ton of slots, then left open for weeks on end to make sure everyone interested can get their orders in, so letting folks claim those remaining slots after the deadline sounds fine ;v;

that being said, there won't be a deadline for this monday's batch, so this bit technically doesn't change anything xD but i thought i should mention the New Thing #6!

and that's it! that's all!

while i'm pretty set on most of these (specially the full-upfront-payment bit — again, money's tight orz), i'm still definitely open to feedback, and to change things if something doesn't work for you folks!! please do share your thoughts on it, or send a note if you'd rather!! and let me know if you have any questions too ;v; 

i apologize for the super short notice again (and for cramming all of this into a single post) orz i'll be sorting things out until 5pm on monday, and getting these last commissions posted as well c:

thank you again for reading all of this orz and please don't feel obligated to reply to all the points if you have thoughts on only a specific one, i'd rather hear a little feedback than none at all ;o;

all in all, hope at least these portraits look nice, they were fun to work on :') Oliver, Owen and Steffan (previously known as the Swordsman/the Warlock — yup he's got a name now!); i'll get the other two of Matthew and Coriander done and posted!

thanks again folks, have a nice friday! ;w;

[birdofdawning]

The Bookseller’s Eldest Daughter and the Witch’s Girl

The first chapter is here; the previous chapter is here.

Chapter Four

A few weeks passed as if nothing of remark had ever happened. The Bookseller kept his shop and argued with his customers; his youngest daughter cooked and cleaned and mended; and his eldest daughter went about the city buying up old books and bargaining with the printers over new ones. Her business never took her into the Braziers' Quarter, and though she always meant to steal a few hours and call upon the Witch’s girl, somehow-or-other by time she had finished all her tasks for that day it was already eight o'clock at night; and so she would wearily defer that pleasure to the morrow.

The Bookseller invited his friend the Inkmaker over to dinner several times, and had his eldest daughter wait on them with the port bottle. After the second meal he approached the topic of his daughter’s unmarried status and how he was looking for someone to take her off his hands. The Inkmaker eyed her as he would a horse, even getting up to examine her from behind as she filled up their glasses. “She’s a bit tall,” he finally remarked. He was a perceptive man, and only five and a half feet tall.

“What does that matter?” said the Bookseller. “She’s good with money, and… well, not bad looking.”

“Can she cook?” asked the Inkmaker, and his friend prudently changed the subject.

They reopened the discussion a few evenings later, and eventually the Inkmaker begrudgingly agreed to marry the Bookseller’s eldest daughter.

The girl herself, as you might expect, did not remain quiet during these negotiations. She regularly added her own thoughts, mostly remarks along the lines of “I shall not!”, “Indeed, no!”, and simply “NO!”, as well as such a wide range of contemptuous snorts and mirthless barks of laugher that the Inkmaker asked her father if she was prone to illnesses for he wouldn’t abide sick people in his house.

“If you don’t marry the man, you won’t be living here anymore!” threatened the Bookseller one evening after the Inkmaker had left them for the public house.

“I won’t be doing that either way!” retorted his daughter; and, unable to think up a satisfactory rejoinder to this, he told her to see to the fireplace before she went to bed and left the room. She, however, sat down heavily in his armchair and stared into the fire as she tried to think of ways to mend her future. But she ended up mostly thinking about the Witch’s girl.

Things were going far more happily for the Bookseller’s youngest daughter. The day after she had been restored to herself she had accepted the clerk’s apprentice’s proposal and a date was quickly set. In those days the ordinary people didn’t wait very long before getting married — they simply picked the next good day to do so and held the wedding. So two Fridays later, at the King Carabas’ Pleasure, the Bookseller’s youngest daughter finally wore the very becoming new dress that she had been stitching for almost two years and married the handsome clerk’s apprentice before a minister, and then they and all the neighbours sat to breakfast.

As the wine was being poured out the Bookseller rose to his feet and said the appropriate things, much of which was couched in classical allusion and not entirely understood by the majority; but they didn’t really care because the wine was quite good. They all drank to the bride, and then they drank to the groom, and then they drank to the couple’s future, and then the groom toasted his new father-in-law, and then his father-in-law, a little over-excited by this point, rose again and invited the company to drink to the King.

“And, of course, to the Queen,” he added openhandedly, “And the rest of the royal family. Oh! Especially with the poor Prince’s illness.” And everyone happily raised their glasses again, and drank, and waited to see if there would be any more toasts.

Everyone, that is, except for the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, who had frozen with her glass in mid-air and stayed in that pose, her eyes wide, until her sister kicked her under the table.

Once the breakfast was over and the guests farewelled, the Clerk’s Apprentice’s wife looked about for her sister to help her remove her few belongings to her new husband’s lodging. But she could not find her anywhere.

And here I am afraid to report that the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, usually of excellent character (if, perhaps, a little dogmatic), had quite deserted her sister in their last few minutes alone together. Instead she was striding through the city — from the Antique Quarter into the Clockmakers’ Quarter, and from the Clockmakers’ Quarter into the Ostlers’ Quarter, down front streets and back streets — until she came to the Witch’s rickety old house at the end of its lonely lane behind the Brazier’s Quarter.

Without hesitating, she marched around to the kitchen door, knocked once, and let herself in.

“Ahh!” said the Witch’s girl, dropping the basket she was holding onto the kitchen floor.

“Oh. Sorry,” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, suddenly aware how abrupt her appearance had been. “Is the Witch in?”

“She’s off to market,” said the Witch’s girl demonstratively snatching up the empty basket and looking rather annoyed.

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter nodded absently, “Good, good, then we can talk.”

Gazing at her and shaking her head, the Witch’s girl began saying something, changed her mind, performed an elaborate shrug with both palms raised to heaven, and put her basket down on the table. “I take it something has happened and you want my help? Since I haven’t otherwise seen you in a fortnight?”

“What? Oh yes. I mean no,” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, blinking. “I mean… Right, yes. Sorry. I was intending to—”

The other girl waved away whatever she was about to say. “Don’t bother, you’re not very good at this sort of thing, I can tell. Just tell me what you need,” she said with a martyred air that the Bookseller’s eldest daughter found immediately irritating.

“Nothing has happened. But my sister got married this morning and—” (“Oh how jolly,” said the Witch’s girl icily, “Was it lovely, did she look nice, did everyone who was invited have an absolutely wonderful time?!”) “—and I suddenly remembered something,” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter with a determined air.

“Oh, so you can remember things? How reassuring,” said the Witch’s girl.

“Listen! When I was at the fairy ball there was a young man acting the servant. He was all wan and seemed half-asleep, but I knew I recognised him! I just couldn’t think from where. And then today it came to me — he’s the King’s son!”

She looked at the Witch’s girl to see the effect of her announcement.

“So what?” said the Witch’s girl.

“So what?!” the Bookseller’s eldest daughter gasped, “He’s the King’s son! Everyone thinks he’s ill, but he’s been trapped in Fairy all this time!”

“Lots of people get trapped in Fairy,” said the Witch’s girl.

“Well, yes, but he’s the King’s son!” repeated the Bookseller’s eldest daughter suddenly feeling a little helpless.

“And?”

“And we need to rescue him!”

“Why him in particular?” asked the Witch’s girl, who was an egalitarian. “I’d wager you saw others you recognised at the revel.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter opened her mouth to refute this, then thought back and closed it.

“Oho! You did!” said the Witch’s girl. “So why aren’t you begging me to help them?”

“I… Actually I had thought I’d seen the Baker’s wife. And when I met her next I asked her if she had enjoyed her night at the dance. And she looked at me as if I were mad, and said that would be a fine thing, her husband taking her to dances, and then something about his trade requiring early nights. It all seemed so commonplace I decided I must have been mistaken.”

The Witch’s girl hummed. “I find myself quite in sympathy with the Baker’s wife. It must be nice being taken to dances.”

“I can tell what you’re doing, you know! And of course I would like to take you to a dance, but… well, you need to understand that I’ve been busy! With my sister’s wedding, and also my father wants me to marry an odious man and keeps making me sit up with him—”

“Ah. Your interest in the King’s son begins to become clear.” The Witch’s girl crossed her arms and gave the Bookseller’s eldest daughter a knowing look. “No doubt he would be an acceptable substitute for the odious man your father has selected. Setting our cap, are we?”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter looked horrified. “No! Of course not! I don’t want to marry anyone! I want to run a bookshop, my own bookshop, not keep house for some awful person! But that would take money, and... well, the King is known for his generosity to those—”

“I see. A reward. I had not fully appreciated your mercenary nature until this moment,” said the Witch’s girl frostily. “How gullible you must think me.”

“No, I didn’t mean… oh, why are you so hard to talk to!”

They glared at each other, the Witch’s girl cool and arch, the Bookseller’s eldest daughter with her hands in angry fists.

“Anyway,” said the Witch’s girl finally, “I understand it’s been a year since the King’s son took ill. If he’s actually been held in Fairy the whole time he will certainly be under heavy enchantments by now. Practically a part of the place. So.”

“But that’s just it!” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, triumphant, “Has he been trapped in Fairy this whole time?”

The other girl impatiently shook her head with incomprehension.

“He still appears alive and himself around the palace. He sits at meals. They say he even goes for walks in the gardens. He just doesn’t speak to anyone! What if he’s being carried Away each night? Yes yes,” she said as the Witch’s girl opened her mouth to reply, “It may not be him; it may be a glamour cast over a stock or a scarecrow or something. But Greenaway writes in Multifarious Accounts of Fairy, its Nature and Customs that the longest a fairy illusion has been known to last is a quarter year!”

“Oh, you and your books!” said the Witch’s girl, stamping her foot in annoyance. She took a deep breath and continued, with thick condescension, “My dear child, enchantments on an old log or a stone will certainly fall away eventually — maybe even upon the turning of tide or the changing of the wind if the fairy wasn’t particularly bothered. But this is probably another fairy dressed up as the King’s son and playing its tricks.”

“For a whole year? Without getting bored or distracted?”

The Witch’s girl raised her eyebrows. “I knew of a fairy woman who set off one morning disguised as a servant looking for work, got hired, eventually married the man who hired her, and had five children with him. She acted the dutiful wife for years, because she thought it such amusing sport. When she and the children finally revealed themselves and vanished away, pointing and laughing at him, the poor man was heartbroken and died a week later. Not of an actual broken heart, though. A horse kicked him. It was unrelated.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter decided to ignore this. “Don’t you see, I have to try! Perhaps I can’t save him, but if it were you trapped there wouldn’t you want someone to come and rescue you?”

The Witch’s girl sniffed and said that she wouldn’t have become trapped in Fairy in the first place. “And if I had,” she added, “I doubt you could help me. (Or would, for nobody would post a reward.)”

“I did it once,” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, looking annoyed.

“You had, I admit it, an ingenious scheme. But you were also very lucky. And the only reason the fairies haven’t revenged themselves upon you since is because had an obvious scapegoat — Mister Prosper, who hasn’t been seen about town in a fortnight and is little missed. But this time,” finished the Witch’s girl spitefully, “you have no convenient culprit to suffer while you parade about enjoying all your coy little flirtations and angling for money.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter looked furious. “I am not flirting with anyone! Anyone else, that is! No, actually, I meant to say anyone at ALL!”

“Fine!” retorted the Witch’s girl, “Go back to your humdrum little life with your books and your childish plans until your father makes you marry some ordinary middle-aged man just so he has someone to keep house for him!”

“Says the petty little servant girl!” spat the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, “No wonder you work for the Witch, nobody else would put up with you!”

“You silly little fool,” sneered the Witch’s girl, “Can you really be so obtuse—"

“Do you know, I suddenly find I couldn’t care less!” interrupted the Bookseller’s eldest daughter. A long step brought her right up to the Witch’s girl and she lent down so that their faces were only a hair’s breadth apart. A poisonous remark died upon the other girl’s lips as she stared up at her with wide eyes. “I am going to rescue the King’s son,” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter in a low, hateful voice, “And yes, I am going to be well rewarded for doing so, enough to set up my own bookshop where I don’t have to answer to anyone. And YOU can go to the Devil!” And she turned on her heel and strode to the door.

With a gasp the Witch’s girl ran after her and grabbed for her hand. “Don’t,’ she said in quite a different voice. “Don’t do this. Please.”

But the Bookseller’s eldest daughter wrenched her hand away and burst out of the kitchen door without a backward look. She marched down the lane and back through the city in a white fury, and everyone who saw her gave her a wide berth. When she got home she ran upstairs, slammed her bedroom door, and threw herself upon her bed and wept. And if you had asked her whether she was crying with anger or sorrow I am afraid that she wouldn’t have been able to say (but she may have thrown a pillow at you).  

Eventually she was all cried out, and after a time she rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling and begin to think.

The Bookseller spent a very jolly afternoon in the shop being congratulated by all his customers, who were quite happy to join him in drinking the health of the joyful couple. He felt pleased with himself, and became even more determined to marry his other daughter off as soon as he could. Then he could get someone in to cook and clean while he was in the shop, and have his evenings to himself. He did vaguely wonder where his eldest daughter was, but decided she must still be settling her sister into her new life.

In fact the girl was sitting with red eyes in her bedroom, drawing up a new scheme on a piece of scrap paper. She didn’t spend half the care on this one as she had on her first, and as soon as she felt it was good enough she upped and strode down to the candlemaker’s shop where she bought some wax, and then on to the nearest ostler’s. Here she hired a mule and a small cart (demanding a receipt for her payment from the poor ostler, who took one look at her face and for the first time in his life provided one; the Bookseller’s eldest daughter was still a Woman of Business, and she intended to be recompensed for her expenses). And then, to the bemusement of those who were there, she filled the cart up with old soiled straw, never mind that she was still wearing her good dress from the wedding!

Then she drove to the cooper’s, where she bought a flawed cask for a quarter of what the man had begun asking, also demanding a bill of sale. “For a ha’penny?” he said, incredulous. “Money is money,” she replied, “Help me get it onto my cart, please.”

And after that she drove the mule out of her own neighbourhood and beyond the ken of those who dwelt there. But you will have guessed that she travelled across the city into the garden district, stopping first at the botanical gardens, and then continuing on to that quiet boulevard where the villas look down upon the willow-lined canal.

At six o’clock the Bookseller’s eldest daughter walked into the kitchen of the bookshop. “Where have you been?” asked her father, who had developed a mild headache, “the stove is cold and there’s no dinner!”

“I’ll make you a sandwich,” she replied, very shortly, and began to do just that.

“My friend, the Inkmaker may—”

“Not tonight, father” she hissed, and the Bookseller was astonished to find himself cowed, he who was used to being the martinet of that little home!

At eight o’clock he took himself to bed, feeling for the first time a little regretful over the absence of his bright and amusing younger daughter. He suspected he might not enjoy his forthcoming evenings with this terse and quarrelsome child who only seemed to care about books and the accounts. “A sad state of affairs,” he told himself, shaking his head sadly. “Her mother was never like that.”

Meanwhile his eldest daughter was packing her satchel. This time, as well as a knife and the string and all the other little things she thought might come in useful, she took freshly-cut verbena from the botanical gardens and the tinderbox from above the fireplace. And, after a moment’s thought, she took the iron poker from the fireplace too, wrapping a length of twine tight about its handle and tying the end in a long loop.

Then she put on her shawl, for the night was cool, and quietly left the house. She travelled through the city — from the Antique Quarter into the Clockmakers’ Quarter, and from the Clockmakers’ Quarter into the Cathedral District, down front streets and back streets — until she was travelling through the Garden District.

And what a difference there was, walking through the night as a girl alone and not on the Witch’s horse! Men would call out to her and ask her for her name. Libertines would offer to take her to a tavern, and stray dogs would sniff about her boots. These last she could threaten with the poker, but the men she must ignore as well as she could and hope to outpace their interest.

But once she entered the Garden District she missed the little black horse immensely. For the night watch seemed to be everywhere, and she was stopped and her business asked at least five times before she reached her objective. But she told them all that she was a maid to Lady Angerfield, returning home from an errand, and, since they could see she was fairly well-dressed under her shawl, this seemed to satisfy their questions.

Finally she found herself at the end the boulevard looking down into the black waters of the canal, and there, as before, was the reflection of the deserted villa lit up as if for a festival. Over to the last willow she strode, and from under its long fronds she rolled the cask — now fulled with the old straw — that she had stowed there, righting it carefully in the middle of the road.

Once again she braided her hair with the verbena and rubbed it down her dress. And this time she also took out the small packet of wax she had brought, and softened the tallow in her hands until she could plug her ears with it. “Just like Odysseus,” the Bookseller’s eldest daughter told the wind. I always felt Odysseus was rather a reprehensible character, she imagined the Witch’s girl replying with a sniff, But I suppose your modelling yourself after him doesn’t come as a complete surprise, though it is, of course, a regrettable one. But then she felt sad, so she remembered all the awful things the other girl had said and became angry again. With a scowl she took the tinderbox and lit a handful of straw, waited to ensure it was properly alight, and then dropped it into the cask.

Turning, she narrowed her eyes, marched down the steps to the water and let herself topple under.

Once again the Bookseller’s eldest daughter was dry and upright and facing the red lamps and orange flames of the fairy revel; but this time, as she had hoped, the music seemed faint and indistinct. She could still somehow feel it against her skin, but it now had no power to bewilder and distract her. Or to impress, perhaps: somehow everything about her now seemed smaller and more squalid. As she walked up the path to the villa the fine gentlemen and ladies promenading around the gardens were a little shabby and aged instead of magnificent, and they crept along rather than strode.

Inside it was the same: what she remembered as a gloriously intoxicating spectacle was drab and listless. Occasionally a dance would break out and the steps would be performed with dexterity but little of the vigour of enjoyment. And the people there! Instead of dreamlike and beguiling they were twisted and pitiful versions of those she recalled from her first visit. Here was the grey lady, but her eyes were rheumy and her arms were pock-marked with scales, like a dried fish. There was the gentleman in the velvet tailcoat, but now she could see that his hands were aged and his face whiskered in patches like a fox. Their clothes too were unpleasantly commonplace versions of those from her previous visit — ragged, worn, and dirtied with soil and moss.

Only the Very Wonderful Person seemed much the same, and even they appeared distracted as they tapped at their teeth and stared out into the shadows of the hall.

The mortals, however, she could now easily pick out. They moved quicker and, from their expressions, seemed to be having a wonderful time as they spun and danced about, eating stale fragments of bread and drinking what she hoped was water. And she now saw that they had a sort of glow about them, that the fairies would stand and bask in, like you might find yourself doing in a patch of sunlight on the first warm spring day.

With nothing to distract her, the Bookseller’s eldest daughter quickly spotted the King’s son as he listlessly wandered about offering people grimy cups of some liquid. He was tall and well-made, with golden hair, and wore what had been a fine tail-coat but was now almost worn away with the months. With time to spare — and how different it was to now be able to feel the passage of time in this place! — she followed the young man for a few minutes. Occasionally someone would make a remark to her and she would nod vaguely and pass on as if in a daze, hoping that this would seem unsuspicious, for she could barely catch their words.

The King’s son was just offering a great stone-faced person with horns a cup of wine when a shout rang out that even the Bookseller’s eldest daughter could hear.

“Dawn! The dawn comes!”

Everyone turned to look out the windows, and gasped at what they saw: for while this reflected-villa was still blanketed in night, the real villa in the canal and the white walls of the boulevard were all beginning to glow with an orange light, as if the sun were rising over the opposite bank!

Around her the fairies rushed about in sudden terror. “Flee!” cried one as it ran past the girl, “Least we all be washed away with the waters!” and it dashed out through the great doors, followed by dozens of others, moving faster and faster until it was like being in a stiff autumn wind with leaves hitting you and scratching you and slipping past you as you stood your ground.

“Odd,” muttered the Very Wonderful Person stalking past her, “it seems a trifle early…” but then they shrugged and joined the elfin whirlwind.

Mortals, caught up in the panic, were lifted up into the turmoil of the fairies’ retreat, the King’s son too; but the Bookseller’s eldest daughter caught at his hand and held him back. And as he struggled to free himself she threw the loop of the old iron poker around his neck, just like your mama used to lay the ladle or tongs over you when you were a baby and in your cradle and she had to leave you alone for a moment. Immediately the King’s son fell back, weighed down by the cold iron. And then the candles all went out at once, and they were alone in that dark hall.

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter gently led the King’s son out of the water and up the steps to the boulevard, where the barrel of straw still burned and cast its ruddy light over everything. Stopping beside it she unplugged her ears and turned to the King’s son. “Can you speak?” she asked, but he merely gazed at her in bewilderment.

So taking his hand, she began to led the King's son through the long white streets of the Garden District.

The next chapter

[kyokushinpunk]

We're well into August, the dojo is still closed for summer, so I figured I'd try to do a thing about maintenance routines when you can't practice

I need to maintain some sort of shape over the summer so that I'm not completely behind when the season starts.

So far my daily routine has been :

30 crunches

30 squats

30 knuckle push-ups

15 minutes of stretching, trying to get splits so I can finally reach joudan / high kicks and generally be more flexible. I basically do all of the usual stretching we do in the dojo but keep positions for 1 minute. It's paying off.

When I remember, I do a couple kata, mostly sanchin.

Twice a week, I'm going to the gym for some cardio and weight lifting. I do 15 minutes on a rowing machine, then 4 exercices in 5x5 (two push / two pull). One day is upper body, second day is lower body. I'm allowing myself a little more junk food than usual because it's kinda vacation season, haha, but I still keep a balanced diet. I'm thinking of going a third time to work more core and back stuff, but I'll do when I can afford a couple coaching sessions.

Some of the senpai are running small training and light sparring sessions once a week in a park, and I've attend the last two (I feel like a white belt again when I spar against them, damn).

So far it's been quite useful, I've noticed progress in both strength and flexibility (my kicks can reach shoulder height now). The senpai have recommended I up my daily routine to 50 of each, which I will probably do for the last two weeks of summer leading up to the dojo reopening on september 4th. I'd be curious to know about your own maintenance routines when you can't go and train ? I admit I'm very new to this, so I might be doing stuff wrong.

I'm thinking into properly getting into weight lifting in the future, especially as my girlfriend is moving to France soon and is big into lifting. Couldn't think of a better incentive to lift.

Anyway, as soon as septembers starts, competition training starts again. I really want to go the tournament in december, I couldn't last year after injuries, reaaaaally want to try this time.

[acelibrarymouse]

I'm alive! 😂😂

I'm crafting for the first time in 2023. *le gasp* 🫣

Holidays ended, and we had a couple weeks reprieve before a huge remodel started at my store near the end of January. It's been a nightmare for the last 3 1/2 months, made extra stressful because my manager made me the one for the outside leaders to communicate with instead of him, and I had a team to babysit. For some of them, I do mean babysit. The grand reopening is tomorrow, and we have our new normal to adjust to.... And even then, there's a chance my career may change soon.

But we'll see how long this crafting lasts. My hyper focus on Pokemon is starting to fade so I might be able to dabble in other hobbies. I'll try not to be so quiet again, my loves. Whoever remembers following me. 🤣

[whentherewerebicycles]

morning with the pups. I have a headache from crying but I bought myself a small treat (orange scone from panera) and managed to get some good work done this morning. I will be honest I feel Bad still but am trying to ground myself so I don’t spiral off into the deep despair again.

here are five small positive things:

I am being actively befriended by this very gruff middle-aged women’s studies faculty member who was on my search committee. I thought she hated me for the entire Zoom interview and the first seven hours of the campus visit but then in the last hour of the visit it suddenly became apparent that she liked me a great deal and just has a very brusque no-nonsense demeanor. we have been emailing back and forth all morning about this faculty pedagogy fellowship she’s leading and I think we are going to co-teach a couple workshops together. also we’re going to start going on walks together because we live so close. it’s nice to be befriended! and it’s nice to think about work as a place where I could build more friendships, especially with people who are there for the long haul.

my best friend lives so close to me now 😭 it was nice to break up the crying jags last night by going over to see her.

I’m genuinely excited to be an aunt. there is a lot of pain around it too and it is going to take some time to work through that but it will be so nice to have a baby in the family. also I am requesting nicely of the universe that if my brother & sister-in-law MUST have a baby before I do, please let the baby to be born on my birthday so we will have a special aunt/niece or nephew bond forever. I do not think this is too much to ask. ugh my heart hurts a lot but I am being brave about it.

last year I wrote a long letter of rec for my old boss/beloved grad advisor for this major mentoring and leadership award she was up for. she won the award and I guess they sent her the file with the letters attached. anyway she sent me a box of woolf & vita sackville-west books, a beautiful handmade glass vase, and a long letter where she said my rec letter made her cry and cry. it was really nice to hear from her—she’s been dealing with really scary long covid health issues since early 2020 and there was a period of time where she was in and out of the hospital so often with such serious issues I thought she might die. she is doing better now though and she says she’s retiring this year, which will be a huge loss to the university but I hope good for her. idk I was happy to hear from her and it was nice to get a surprise package of books (with more on the way, apparently).

oh friends. to quote that tumblr meme from the other day, they should invent a way out that isn’t through. I just don’t want to do the soul-work of trying to break down this grief and metabolize it and integrate it into my sense of self all over again. I’m just sad, you know? I’m sad and I’m tired of feeling sad, I want to feel otherwise, but it’s exhausting to think about clawing my way through these feelings again. I want to be on the other side of this experience and I thought I was there but I see now that I’m not, or maybe that the grief and painful agonizing uncertainty about future losses is going to keep surging back every time something reopens the wound. I feel like I’ve spent the past seven weeks swimming so hard for shore, and I’d finally managed to haul my exhausted self up onto the beach only for a massive tidal wave to crash down over me and pull me back out to sea. and I know it is just the start. liz will be pregnant soon and my SIL will have the baby and people in my social circles will continue to post their pregnancy announcements online and ugh. ugh. I just have this hugely selfish wish that everyone would hold off for like six more months so I could crawl a little further inland before the next wave hits. this is not a positive thing from the day but I can’t quite wrangle myself into feeling gratitude for all the good things in my life today. I think I’m just going to be treading water for a while.