#schedueled post

[meanwhilewhile]

uhh notes thing because i need it

25 notes and ill complete all my homework tonight

50 and i’ll try to go to bed at a decent time

100 and i’ll start asking for more help from my math teacher

150 and i’ll (try) and make at least 20mins where i take a break each day

200 and i’ll start studying a specially tough subject each day for a certain amount of time (it’ll continually go up)

300 and i’ll start trying to draw new things that i struggle with

1000 and i’ll ask my mom about seeing a therapist

2000 and i will talk to my mom (or therapist) about an ADHD diagnosis

i think thats all uhm, knock yourselves out :)

@alchemicalwerewolf @takkapakka @hawthornebush @uhjamszone @lollygaggingloser @charlino113 @gilmorenights @literally-varian @solaceinthesand @rock-n-roll-suicide @chrislikesgorillaz @mustardonaraccoon @yuuyuuuyuuuu

[vctrdoom]

“To the race and to the next part.”

“To the race, and the next part.”

[lover-of-mine]

Buddie Countdown to Season 7:

79 days.

inspired by @bucksbackwardcap

[skyeshades]

[7 DAYS REMAIN]

+ w/o number and text

[fazcadeemployee69]

Night 1

Pgs 7-8

Surprise!

[Next]

[Prev]

[Start]

[mayowayo]

whatever. go my nene.

[trainerethan]

I wonder. Would red be a light sleeper, since on mt. silver hed need to be on guard for any wild pokemon or anything else. I already said i imagine him having a very consistent sleep/wake cycle so he usully goes to bed and wakes up without an alarm since...yknow he didnt have one on the mountain. That said deviating heavily from his routine could probably throw him off. If he didnt get enough sleep hes groggy and a bit annoyed by whatever made him lose out on his precious sleep time, whether it be wild pokemom or a particularly strong storm or whatever. Since he sleeps lightly to stay on alert, these things do wake him up and can throw him off a little for the day. Thankfully he lives on a mountain so its not like he had any plans that would be thrown off by it, just his own annoyance with his routine being foiled.

Perchance when he was on the mountain and he slept lightly for self preservation or whatever, now that he and green live together hes become a deep sleeper who could sleep through a lot bc he can finally relax and trust that he is safe and doesnt need to be watching out for any potential problems he could have as mountain man. Green is here now, and red knows he can be vulnerable and relax around her.

Green is extrmely touched by this, but also its a little annoying when they have plans and reds sleep/wake cycle made of netherite makes it difficult to wake him up before he usually would. He can but then hes groggy and doesnt want energy drinks or coffee so he takes awhile to fully wake up on his own lol.

We win some (complete trust and love for your wife and the happiness of the proof of how reliable and safe they see you as) and lose some (your beautiful wife trusts you so much he now sleeps through alarms and must be woken up by you specifically or you have to wait until his usual wake up time) im sure they figure some middle ground out after awhile but at first reds dedication to getting a full 9h of sleep is certainly annoying sometimes.

[danceworshipper]

Stay With Me

Written for the @garrethweasleyfest 🧪🦁

Prompt: Awkward morning after

AN: The fic takes place in seventh year, but they're technically still underaged. Despite it being very obvious why she's in his bed in the first place and there being a few references to it there is no explicit detail in this fic. While I never used her name since I haven't gotten around to making her a proper profile, the girl in the story is Persephone Malfoy, one of my ocs. This is the link to her intro post if anyone's curious about her

When he woke, it was silent - up before the others, then, which rarely ever happened. Garreth tended to be one of the last of them awake, rushing through some semblance of a morning routine in order to make it to breakfast with enough time for a full meal.

The silence allowed him to come to awareness slowly, letting his eyes stay closed as he nuzzled further into the soft skin under his face, the last lingering touches of her perfume - flowery and undoubtedly expensive - drawing him in. Underneath the perfume there was a hint of sweat from the night before, and the smell of warmth from being wrapped in his sheets. The combination threatened to pull him back down into slumber. How he'd gotten himself on top of her without waking either of them up was a mystery, but he wasn't complaining, not one bit. It was the best way he'd ever woken up, and it was promptly ruined as he remembered that it would probably never happen again.

Garreth cursed himself, cursed his now pounding heart, cursed her too for good measure, and then took it back and held her tighter in apology. She'd been clear; she always had. His heartbreak was his own.

To be fair to himself, though, he'd never expected her to stay the night.

He asked. Every single time she let him touch her, he asked her if she'd stay with him, and she said no. More often than not, she walked away without a word. It was easier that way. If she left, he never got the chance to delude himself into thinking that he had a chance at earning her heart. Nothing between them was romantic. That wasn't what she needed. She needed stress relief, she needed to work her anger out, she needed someone to take care of her after she saved the world again. She didn't need him, she just needed someone, and Garreth had always been willing. Was he even sure that she had no other devotees? A masochistic part of him liked to latch onto the idea that even if there were others, he was surely her favorite. The fact that she sought him out so frequently meant something, didn't it?

Very likely, it just meant that he was convenient. Had he ever turned her down? Ever said no, not tonight and sent her away? No, of course not. He hadn't even considered such a thing. He couldn't. Garreth would always want more of her, including the things she wasn't willing to give him.

But last night... he'd asked, just like he always did.

Stay? Please?

And she'd looked at him for a long moment, looked at his hand caught around her wrist, and climbed back into his bed.

Don't get ideas, she'd said.

He'd wanted to joke. Too late for that, he could have said, waggled an eyebrow at their nudity. His voice had caught in his throat instead, and he'd laid down as close to the edge of the mattress as he could. That was what she'd meant, anyway. No cuddling. No romance. No feelings.

None of what he was doing now: his head tucked under her chin, his arms wound around her, holding her the way he'd always dreamed of. Godric, he had to let go before she woke up and decided that he wasn't what she needed anymore. If she stopped coming to him because of this, because she could no longer pretend he didn't love her, he'd never forgive himself.

As Garreth tried to work up the strength to roll over, she shifted slightly beneath him, tensing as she noticed the position they were in. Panic rose in his throat like bile. Could he pretend to still be asleep? No, not with the way she could surely feel his heart thudding rapidly against his ribs, pressed up to her side. He was doomed. He'd gotten greedy and ruined everything.

Hesitant fingers brushed the back of his head, and Garreth couldn't help the way his breath hitched.

When he didn't react, frozen in shock and a painful hope, she let her hand sink properly into his curls and sighed, the tension leaking from her body - unlike him, who felt like he might vibrate out of his skin with nerves. This was new. This was something he'd never dared dream of, and yet. She had to know he was awake. Why was she doing this? To taunt him? Even she could never be that cruel... right?

With every ounce of courage he possessed, Garreth tilted his head up. Just a smidge. Just to see. Her fingers ran over his scalp, so similar to what she did when he was worshipping at her altar but so different, because this was gentle. This was a caress. He dared to relax back against her, willing himself to stop getting his hopes up. Maybe she was just nicer in the morning (he knew she wasn't, he'd seen her hex a first year for asking her how to get to the potions classroom before she'd gotten any sugar in her system). Maybe she was just comfortable. Maybe she was just cuddling him the way she would a cat, and he was nothing more than a pet to her. Though, on that train of thought, people did tend to love their pets - and there went his hopes rising again.

A loud thump startled them both. The thud was followed by a pained groan; Leander's alarm had shocked him into falling off the bed again. Garreth couldn't really blame him. Back in first year, before they knew how to cast silencing charms around their beds, Leander's horrid alarm scared them all shitless each morning and caused many a sleep deprived fight. Apparently, the thing was from his grandmother as a 'going away' gift. Garreth told him to just toss it and use a charm like the rest of them, but Leander maintained that he slept like the dead, so nothing but the alarm could wake him.

Swallowing his own fear at the anxious expression on her face, Garreth wished he'd thrown the damn thing away himself.

"The room will be cleared out in fifteen minutes at the most," he whispered, begging her with his eyes to stay calm, stay with him. "You can sneak out once they're all at breakfast."

She nodded.

Like a fool, he asked, "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded again, bit her lip, and turned away.

He could hear the others getting up and debated leaving her alone to calm herself. Whatever had gotten into her was gone now; there was no reclaiming the tenderness they'd had before it was ruined. The best course of action would be to tuck the memory safely into his mind and move on with his day.

As he shifted to get up, though, she snatched his arm to stop him.

"They'll see me," she hissed.

"I'll keep the curtains closed," Garreth promised her. "They won't see you."

"Do you often leave the curtains drawn?" she demanded.

He frowned. "No?" Her meaning sank in, and he hummed. "Ah, right. That would be suspicious. Alright, I suppose I'll just wait them out, then. They won't come looking for me unless I miss breakfast."

Helplessly, Garreth's gaze fell to where she was still gripping his arm. Her pretty painted nails looked so good against his freckled skin. She should always have her hand on him, in his opinion. He risked a glance at her face - she was also looking at her hand on his arm, fixated, and it was suddenly all too easy to slip back into his jokes.

"Like my biceps, do you?"

Seeing the blush on her cheeks was almost worth her snatching her hand away.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed," he teased. "I admire them too. You'd be shocked how much strength stirring a cauldron takes."

"Shut up," she muttered, fingers now clenched in his sheets instead of his skin. Lucky sheets.

Taking pity on her (and maybe not wanting to push her too much further than he already had), Garreth gathered her clothes from the edge of his bed to hand to her. It was sheer good fortune that neither of them had kicked them to the floor in the night. A girl's uniform by the foot of his bed would definitely have aroused suspicion.

Somehow, no one had noticed their frequent simultaneous disappearances yet - or, more likely, they had noticed, but were wise enough to leave it alone. Garreth was grateful either way.

Her beautiful body was covered up again in no time at all. He wished he knew what to say to make sure she wasn't going to walk out of his dorm and never come back, but she wasn't the reassuring type, so even if he did try to check in with her nothing would come of it. He let the chatter of the others fill the air instead.

"Oh, bugger, there's a test in Transfiguration today, isn't there? I haven't studied!"

"We've known about it since last week."

"I forgot, you arse!"

"Wah wah wah, you'll do fine. You always ace Transfiguration."

"But what if I don't?!"

The corner of her mouth turned up just a little at his dormmates' antics, and Garreth stared without remorse. Could he be faulted for thinking she was even more beautiful when she smiled? He thought not.

It only took a few more minutes. Finally, the door slammed shut and the room fell silent. She let out a deep breath, clearly relieved, though she made no move to get up from the bed.

"I'll make sure the coast is clear?" he offered.

"Okay."

Garreth stretched out his back as he swung his legs to the floor, raising his arms above his head and cracking his neck. He peered back at her over his shoulder on a whim.

Caught, she averted her eyes, a blush once again rising on her fair skin. He grinned smugly.

The room was properly empty, so he tossed on his trousers and stuck his head into the hall to check the stairs. No one in sight. A shame. He'd been hoping for a reason to keep her a little longer.

"Run for it."

He hadn't expected her to actually bolt out of the room, but she did, scurrying down the stairs and turning to dash up to her own room. His chest ached seeing her flee like that, but he still held out hope that he hadn't ruined it. That perfect moment - letting him lie with her, her fingers in his hair - that had to have meant something.

Maybe in another few years and she'd actually let him take her out on a date, or even just hold her hand in public.

He'd settle for her staying over again.

[pr-wlrrr42]

Analyzing ATSV backgrounds part 1.5

Anybody ever notice how in ATSV, Ganke isn't wearing any socks on in Miles's shoes

Boy PUT SOME GODDAMN SOCKS ON THOSE ARENT YOUR DAMN SHOES THAT YOU'RE STINKING UP WITH YOUR FEET SWEAT.

Look at his fucking face though oh .y god I can't with his fucking face why do you look like this I'm in love with you.

He looks SO surprised that he was caught.

God he's so

Here he is with those damn bare feet again. Except now they're cold. And without Miles's shoes.

You think he put them back on after?

It's funny how he chose the pair that Miles wears every day instead of one of the ones off his shelf. Maybe it's because he doesn't use those ones and out of respect doesn't touch then too, or maybe it's because bro was just WAITING for him to say something

Part one

[mildlyeldritchcats]

post source, art source

their birthday is probably 20 september, since that's when jeralt's diary mentions sitri's death. since it's the one sothis points out to byleth, it's probably the first entry mentioning them and sitri's death and therefore probably the day of her birth. the other event that shows part of jeralt's diary just shows stuff from before that entry, which makes it even more likely that they were born on 20 september (since i feel like that, if there was a previous entry about them, it would've been brought up). rhea's dialogue in the events rampage, report: ethereal moon, and parting ways all also mention sitri having died in childbirth.

[taxi-cab-to-slowtown]

Posting Scheduel

[runner5anna]

Christmas Cactus

Heyo @kodessa ! I am your ZR secret Santa. Here is a festive fic for you.

Thank you @notforconsumption and @delucadarling for organising this !

It's Christmas day in Able township. It's icey, it's cold, it's not very festive. But, Sam is quite determined to at least make something warm out of the bad day.

There is no spoilers, its SFW but there is discussions of grief and cussing. Also cringe pick up lines.

"Shit!" Bellowed Sam, along with a cacophony of clattering coming from downstairs. Five sucked a lungful of cold air in, kicking the many layers of blankets off of her, grabbed the knife from under the bedside table and ran downstairs. She shoved open the door, shouting “who the hell is there?” and slashing at the air. Her chest heaved with adrenaline and fatigue. The cold air pressed on her bare feet, and her pyjama trousers were halfway up her legs. 

‘Uh - just me?” Answered Sam. He was hunched over the side, which was covered in cocoa powder and parts of a mug. The forest green hoodie he wore to bed was covered in water. “Wait - is that another knife, 5? I thought we talked about this. You don’t need to keep knives under the bed side table.” 

5 grinned and placed it down on the side. “I don’t know what you mean.” She slid it into the drawer, intending to pick it up later. “Need a hand?”

“No - I think I’m ok.” he sighed. He picked up his foot, inspecting it closely. “I stubbed my toe and dropped the pink mug. I found the cocoa powder at the bottom of the drawer in the comms shack. Happy Christmas, I guess?” he sighed, dusted the reminisce of the brown powder off the base of his foot, and placed it down - deciding that it wasn’t broken, just sore. “I wanted to surprise you.” 

“Oh shit - that day already?” 5 ran her hands up her face, pressing her palms into her eyes. She really needed a shower. Her face felt slick with sweat and grime from the night. Maybe she’d treat herself later to a lukewarm one. 

“Yeah. Snuck up on me too. I looked at the clock on the computer last night and it was the 24th! I wanted to surprise you with some hot cocoa but I pigged that one up pretty badly.” He sniffled, and the tears welled like little gems in the corner of his large brown eyes.  

“Oh - bless your heart, Sammy. You’re too kind for this world.” 5 opened her arms, inviting him in for a hug. He placed his bristled chin on her head and sighed, relaxing into her touch. “You didn’t have to do that for me.” 

“I know. I’m the best.” He grinned. “But - I wanted to. So I did.” He pulled away from 5 and picked up the brush from the side. “I need to clean up. Snow isn’t brown. Unless it's mixed with mud. Or zombie parts. But I suppose I’d quite like chocolate snow.” 

“How’s about I make us hot chocolate with what we have left over? And we can do…” Five pressed her tongue against her teeth in thought. “...festive things.” 

“What can we do? Really?” 

5 lent down to scoop up some more powder back into the pot. If she grabbed a collider, she could at least filter out some of the dust. It was salvageable at least - and there wasn’t much of this stuff left in the world so they should at least treasure it. Somewhat disgusting, yes, but it was the apocalypse. If you could be disgusting, it was now. It would be good for her immune system development, her mother would say. “I’m not actually sure. It’s not like we have a big dinner we can make or gifts.”

“Janine has given us the day off - for those that want it.” 

“I might head out eventually, then.” 

Sam slowly turned around, and pleaded. “Please don’t. It’s -6. It’s freezing. The ground is solid. You’ll slip. Plus it’s Christmas. Let’s just have a day together - It’s been too long.” 

5 pulled a hair from the powder. It was short, brown and blunt - one of Janine’s. Her hair managed to get everywhere. It was a nice reminder that she was there somewhere - a dependable figure even in the hardest of times. “I don’t know what we can do, really.” she tutted. “We don’t even have a tree.” 

Sam gave a little gasp, and quickly shuffled over to the window where he held up Cedrick the Cactus. He was a medium sized fluffy plant - whose fuzz were actually tiny spines which Sam found out rather painfully. 5 wasn’t quite sure why she grabbed it off of the shelf, but she didn’t regret it. He kept 5 and Sam entertained, and it gave them something to talk about outside of the insanity of work, how tired they were and whoever had died recently. 

“Let’s decorate Cedrick!” 

“Won’t I be pulling spines out of your hand for the next week again?” 

“No.” He pouted. “Get your crochet, I’ll get a pen and paper. Let’s make some Christmas clothes for him. It will be fun!” 

5 felt her belly rise with giggles that Sam could only bring from her. He was a ray of sunshine - everything good in the world. When 5 was with Sam, she felt like the best version of herself, like the world was lighter and the breeze was fresher. Her heart fluttered and her cheeks began to flush with how much she realised she was smiling. 

“Let me go get dressed and I’ll be with you.” 

“Ah ah ah!” Sam grabbed her hand, gently pulling her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Absolutely not. No one gets dressed before midday on Christmas.” 

“If you say so. But I need a shower later. I’ll get dressed then.” 

“I’ll give you one of my shower tokens. My treat.” 

“Don’t you need them?” 

“Nah. I’m clean enough. And I don’t go running multiple times a week. They’re upstairs, I think in my jeans pocket.”

“My crochet is upstairs as well - I’ll grab them on the way. And who knows. If I’m feeling generous later I’ll let you share the shower later.” 5 purred as she slunk out of the room, leaving Sam blushing a deep shade of beetroot red. 

*

5 plodded down the stairs, still in their faded plaid pyjamas as promised, crochet hooks and wool in hand. She turned into the kitchen to see Sam was doodling, colouring and shading. He held the paper happily up - on it was a bundle of red berries and green leaves. “Mistletoe!” he announced proudly. “You know what that means?” 

“No.” Five teased, leaning across the table. She softly held his gaze. Usually, Sam’s eyes darted everywhere, like he was avoiding eye contact with everyone while gaining as much information around him as possible. In moments like this, his eyes - beautiful pools of watercolour brown - held steady and calm. 

“It means you-” he poked 5 on the nose with the paper. “-have to give me a kiss.” 

“Ugh. If you insist.” 5 joked. She placed her hand on the base of Sam’s neck, pulling him across the table and into a kiss. It was deep and long, as the two relaxed into each other. 5 inhaled a smell she’d grown to love so much of marmite, washing powder and ink. Before he pulled away, Sam nuzzled their noses together, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Thank you.” He whispered.

“You’re welcome.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Five sat down, pulling up a chair and setting her crochet on the table. “What do you think I should make?” 

“A little scarf, or a hat maybe. I think a tiny scarf will be easier. If your hand starts to hurt you can help me with the decorations.” 

“All right.” Five started with a quick slip not, starting to make the first chain. “I always feel a little startled when I need to relax. I’m always so on edge that when I set time aside to be quiet and have time to myself I’m always waiting for the proverbial hat to drop.” 

Sam hummed in agreement. “It is hard to relax now isn’t it? With the grey wandering outside the walls and regularly staring death in the ugly maw.” He finished colouring in a little robbin and began to cut around it with the scissors. 

“I thought you were banned from using scissors by Maxine after the great finger slice event.” 

“For your information, that ban was temporary. How was I supposed to know that Maxine had just sharpened her scissors? Who has scissors that sharp anyway?” he subconsciously ran his thumb over the scar on his finger. 

“Who uses massive scissors on such a tiny thing?” 

“Oh, be quiet!” He threw the roll of string at 5’s head. “Can I have that back please.” 

5 leaned down to grab it, and spoke while she slid it across the table. “Events always feel so odd now. And I never quite know how to feel. I’m happy I survived another year I suppose.” She finished off a row and started another. “It’s such a tiny scarf, I’ll be done soon.” 

Sam stood up and boiled the kettle. “I’m just letting the glue set - I won’t spill the hot chocolate powder. Close your mouth runner 5 I can tell exactly what you’ll tease me about.” 

“What do you mean?” She scoffed mockingly. 

“You were going to make fun of me for sticking my hand to my head with aeroplane glue.” 

“I was not.” 

“Yes you were.” 

The two went back and forth, squabbling in good spirits while Sam made the hot chocolate.  

“Oh - Sam look! Cedrick has a little flower. He's bloomed.” 

“He reminds me of you in a way. You thrive in the harshest times, and you are very pretty.” He passed a mug over to 5, giving her a gentle kiss on the head. “You’re my little pretty flower.”

“Thank you, darling.” 5 pulled the final thread through, finishing off the tiny scarf. It wasn’t great, considering she’d not spent long on the thing, and the colours didn’t quite match the decor that Sam made. “It looks so bad.” 

“What? I think it looks good. Christmas trees are not supposed to look good.” 

“Cedrick is a Christmas cactus, and we made this in about 45 minutes. It's more ironic than anything - I don’t think they’re supposed to look good. But, y’know, I like him more because we raised him together, and we decorated him as well.” Sam wrapped an arm around 5’s shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. “I want to make another one next year. I think it would be a good tradition.”

“I think…I’d like that. Christmas is so traditional - and now for the first time in ages we can’t do all of them. I’m so used to being with everyone at Christmas that it feels almost positive to create new traditions.” 

“I don’t think Christmas will ever not be hard.” Sam mused between sips of hot chocolate and blowing on too hot marshmallows. “I cried one year because I put out 6 sets of cutlery for dinner even though It had been 2 years since my grandad died. No - three.” 

“It will be hard - but with you I feel I can handle it. Thank you, for being there for me Sam. I appreciate you.” 

“I appreciate you too, 5.” He placed his head on top of 

“I think it’s just all been a lot. Even if we are a few years into the apocalypse, Christmas will always feel different. But I am happy I can spend it with you.” 

“You know what I really want to do?” 

“What? Remember it’s not midday yet, so there's no getting dressed. It’s the Christmas law.” 

“No - I follow Christmas law. I want to cuddle and watch the Doctor Who Christmas specials in bed. Do you have them on your laptop?” 

“Do I ever! I thought you’d never ask. That is a new and old Christmas tradition I can get behind.”

[deergirlslut]

I love coming back to tumblr and immediately seeing 20 posts that remind me why I left this gods forsaken website. I'm out again. Hopefully not coming back this time but we'll see. Thank you all for helping me embrace my transfemininity, being cool transhumanists with wonderful ideas about what it really does mean to be human, being radicals of every variety that introduced me to all kinds of theory, and the biggest thank you to everyone on this website from countries the CIA fucked over who changed me more than any political theory ever could. I hope one day you can tell your children and grandchildren about America as a distant memory of a country that was tyrannical to the extreme, thoroughly defeated, and never bothered you again. I hope you don't have think about this shithole for years to come. I'm out.

[ranseiknight]

huh. what. what is shingens army doing here i thought he thought we were too weak to be payed attention too. its too early for this i need to go and deal with these guys

[devilheartsblog]

K I have been daily posting for a bit and my verdict is, I mean it’s alright.

It’s nice to be able to post stuff without waiting too long but I’m also currently having major art block and I’m not sure what to do with it except come up with some Winx or Dungeon Meshi art. It’s also nice to be able to have times to ramble and what not.

Thing is there are some days where I don’t really feel like posting and I’m also not sure what to do when I’ll run out of drafts eventually.

I might move to once every two days if that’s fine. I used to do it a lot on instagram on an old deleted account, and it was pretty neat until I couldn’t really post much art. But hey, you guys don’t mind rambles it seems.

[italoniponic]

I'll come again later but I just want to admire this perfect parallel in my blog setting for as long as it lasts...