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justporo · 6 months

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A Night of Staying In

After all the doom and gloom in other writing I really needed some cutesy fluff to feel myself again - and also to give Astarion and Tav a break.

Summary: So have Tav and Astarion just enjoying a cozy night in - also Astarion gets a carrot hurled at his face.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav Warnings: Mention of sex, a carrot gets thrown and then murdered Wordcount: 2,2k

Delicious smells of slowly cooking meats and vegetables, spices and a forgotten mint tea were wafting through the kitchen of your cozy little townhouse.

You were bustling around the well-equipped kitchen. The apron you were wearing was full of stains and its pockets full of cooking utensils – even a half-full spoon absent-mindedly tugged away in one of them. It was slowly leaking through the linen with something on it that looked like blood – but was simply a tomatoey sauce. Your hair was messily put up in a bun, but several strands of hair had fallen out of it and you looked only so far from a mental breakdown.

At the kitchen table Astarion was sitting with a lantern, bowing over an embroidery project. He had the very bright lantern you’d gifted him specifically for this purpose directly next to him, but he was still squinting at his work and holding it so close his nose was almost touching the fabric. He looked a lot less demented than you but still very absent-minded.

Fabrics and threads were strewn all about the wooden table. Different needles were glinting everywhere on it too. One could only hope that those would be remembered at some point – preferably before someone stuck them in their fingers.

Next to him were also laying some loose papers, a feather and an ink pot with lots of writing that was then crossed out again and also some small little doodles on the corners – one for whatever reason happened to be a goose with a knife in its beak.

You had several pots on the iron stove and something about to go in the oven as well. Critically you were moving around between all of these things, clattering with copper pot lids, jars of ingredients and spoons to try the food (always in the same pattern: grabbing a new spoon, trying something, putting the spoon in the dish bowl full of dirty water – then having to grab a new spoon). You had some potatoes boiling and in another pot you had been cooking a mixture of vegetables and beef for quite some time. You wanted to recreate a recipe of cottage pie that you had once tried many years ago in a tavern and had kept reappearing in your dreams. And now you finally had the kitchen and the tools to try and cook it yourself!

But it seemed impossible to get it right, this already being your fourth attempt this week. The vampire had already been moaning that you had basically force-fed him the meal because you had no way of eating that much pie on your own. It was not, that the finished pies hadn’t tasted well, but they just weren’t like you remembered. But you started to think that it might be your memory that was tricking you and not your cooking skills.

You went to try the pie filling again after adding some more spices and dash more red wine (directly from your goblet because you didn’t seem to remember where you put the bottle).

As soon as the spoonful hit your tongue you knew you had done it – finally.

You shrieked and immediately heard another shriek behind you in reply. You turned around to Astarion with glee and saw how the vampire was staring at you angrily and shaking his hand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out your sudden excitement had caused him to stab himself with his needle.

“Darling, can you maybe not scream like a dying goblin, I was concentrating!”, he hissed at you. Your joy evaporated at his flare of anger – so you turned around again, grabbed a left over half of carrot and threw it at Astarion – and maybe a bit more forceful than would have been necessary.

But he was still a rogue and dodged the vegetable easily. It flew against one of the cabinets and then to the ground. There it stayed until Scratch came into the kitchen, drawn there by the sudden noises. The dog sniffed at the piece of vegetable, then grabbed it and went off again.

“Oh really, are we at the ‘I throw stuff at my lover’ point of our relationship now, love?”, Astarion replied to your responsive outburst of anger with a raised eyebrow. “Am I going to have to sleep on the sofa next?”, he continued sassily.

Your hand itched to grab more produce – there were some potatoes still laying around and they made for excellent improvised throwing weapons. But you saw the smirk that played around the vampire’s lips. So you settled for a verbal rebuttal.

“Don’t be such a prick and you can keep sleeping inside”, you said and flipped him off. Then you turned around again to your cooking and grabbed – yet another – spoon and scooped up some of the filling. The vampire mumbled something under his breath about he wouldn’t have to be a prick if you didn’t make him prick himself.

“Oh, that would be so gracious of you, my dear lady, if I was still allowed in your shining presence”, Astarion then said loudly as you were busy with the pots. The tone still very sassy but you heard the playfulness in it now and knew he was now only teasing.

You went over to him, with one hand under the spoon full of hot goodness that immediately started dripping and burning your hand. You winced but kept going.

“Here, try this – I think I got it now”, you said as you stood in front of Astarion who had put down his needlework for the time being. He threw you a pained look: “Love, if you keep feeding me this I think I might actually start to get a pot belly.”

You snorted at him and eyed what you could see of his upper body. “Pretty sure, you will never have to worry about this kind of thing. Now. Try. It”, you answered and insistingly came closer with the spoon.

Astarion sighed, gave you another suffering look and then let himself be fed. His doubtful expression quickly changed to what you interpreted as pleasantly surprised.

“Alright, I take everything back, that was well worth the scream of enlightenment, my sweet. That tastes wonderful”, the vampire said and grinned at you.

“See, wasn’t so hard, was it”, you said and gave him a quick peck on the lips as you could see his face changing to annoyance once more at your petty remark.

You threw the spoon in the dish bowl and rubbed your hands on your apron and started to get everything ready for the final step of the recipe. Meanwhile you said to Astarion: “So, darling, could you write down the following: one and a half cups of red wine and three instead of two sprigs of thyme and just loads of black pepper.”

“Of course, my darling chef”, Astarion replied cheerfully and grabbed the feather and papers laying next to him to write it down. “Any other changes?”

“No, this will be it”, you responded and happily clapped your hands before you put your filling in a cast iron pan, mashed and seasoned the potatoes and then put them down as the topping of your pie. The final touch was some hearty cheese sprinkled on top. Then you put it all in the oven.

In the meantime, you heard the feather scratching over the paper.

“What are you doing, Astarion?”, you asked as you took off the oven mitts from pushing the pan in to cook.

“Just putting the recipe in clean writing for you, my heart”, the vampire replied as he kept looking through older versions and notes on the papers. Brows furrowed as he was concentrating on it.

“That’s sweet, love, thank you”, you said to him but he didn’t reply and probably hadn’t even noticed. Of course – if you said something actually nice you fell on deaf ears.

So you decided to thank him with another gesture. You grabbed another goblet to pour your vampire a cup of wine but as you looked around to find the opened bottle you saw that it had been next to Astarion with an already filled cup all along.

You gave up and sat down across the table with your own cup of wine as Astarion finished up writing. You put one leg up on the bench and hugged it to your chest, head on top of the knee and watched the pale elf.

“Here you go, my sweet”, the vampire exclaimed cheerfully after a few more moments and handed you the finished recipe that was now written cleanly in his neat and beautiful handwriting. ‘Tav’s specialty cottage pie’ stood atop the page and next to it was a little doodle of some steaming hot pie.

You smiled broadly at Astarion: “Thank you, darling.” Then you shortly leaned on the table, almost climbing over it to give him a kiss while carefully trying to avoid the needles.

“Do you sometimes wonder how we ended up like this?”, you softly asked him after you had read through the finished recipe.

“Like what?”

“Well, like this – all domestic. I’m cooking, you’re embroidering, we’re bickering like an old married couple, drinking wine and just enjoying a cozy night in instead of wreaking havoc somewhere out there”, you said and waved vaguely in the direction of the city beyond the walls of your home. Then you took another sip of wine.

“Let’s be honest with ourselves, we’ve been bickering like that from the moment we met”, Astarion answered and looked at you sternly. You shrugged in agreement.

“As for the rest – well, are you enjoying the way we spend our nights like this sometimes? Because if you’re bored-“

“No no, I’m enjoying this an awful lot. It’s just – this is somehow the most unlike turn of events don’t you think? Like, I sometimes can’t believe we actually ended up in the version where we’ll live happily ever after”, you said and cradled your face in your hand not currently holding a cup of wine.

At your words a warm and adoring smile crept onto Astarion’s face.

“Are you though?”, you asked then.

“Hm?”

“Are you enjoying these kinds of nights?”, you asked Astarion again and lifted your head up to look straight at him.

The vampire looked at you, smile still playing around his lips: “Well, my love, after two hundred years full of godsdamned shit I am enjoying this sort of mundanity quite a lot. And I enjoy it even more because I get to spend it with you. I might even enjoy doing the dishes with you later on – unless you don’t splash me like last time.”

You smiled at him too now, broadly – feeling incredibly lucky that you had indeed taken all the right turns that had led you here, to this: sitting at this kitchen table with the love of your life, talking about doing the dishes.

“But if we ever get bored, my sweet, I have quite a lot of ideas on how to spice things up”, Astarion continued afterwards. The smile morphed into a lewd smirk and his red eyes sparkled mischievously: “For example, I could dramatically throw everything on this table to the ground, rip all your clothes off and have my way with you on this table until you forget your own name.”

His voice had suddenly become deep and smooth like dark molten chocolate. You bit your bottom lip as the mental image of his words set in and you just stared into his eyes point blank. Astarion still looked at you, not breaking eye contact, and his teasing smirk only growing.

“Nah”, you made after some more moments, “not tonight. My cottage pie would burn.” Your tone was matter-of-fact and you drank some more of your wine while still looking into the vampire’s eyes.

Then you both broke down laughing. So much so that you had to wipe tears from your eyes by the end and Astarion had his face buried in one of his hands while silent fits of laughter still shook through him.

“Alright”, he said and bit his lip, one of his fangs showing adorably as if he was a cat, “I’ll write it down for another date night then.” You broke out laughing again.

Until you could actually smell your food burning. With an “oh shit” you jumped up and pulled the pan out of the oven – you had saved it just in time.

You got out some plates and forks, and put some generous servings onto them. As you turned around your gaze fell onto the table full of Astarion’s embroidery supplies. Astarion saw your look, then waved it off, dismissing it.

He grabbed one of the filled plates from you and grabbed your then free hand to lead you to the living room. Scratch was there laying on his designated blanket, chewing on his favourite ball. Some telltale orange spots telling the tale of the fallen carrot.

You settled down on your sofa with your food – you swinging your legs over Astarion’s and getting cozy.

And this is where you stayed: eating until you felt like your belly might burst, joking until you were crying again, talking until you got so tired you almost drifted off into dreaming right then and there. And when you had went to bed: holding each other until you woke up in the other’s arms again.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #one shot #drabble #poro fics

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14thgalerie · 7 months

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tell me why

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: dangerous by madison beer

• word count: 3.3k

• genre: angst, fluff (barely)

— based on this request, i hope you like this one even though i'm pretty sure this isn't what you had in mind huhu. i tried to find a way to go about this prompt that isn't all cliche and was written before.

Projects given over the holiday: written and set aside in a matter of six hours.

Every crevice and corner of his room is now spotless.

A game of quidditch with Lorenzo with his siblings.

And that’s the entire list. He has finally run out of things to do, yet the sun remains shining brightly outside. What was supposed to be an uneventful day had turned out to be quite a hectic one. An accidental glance at the desk that sits below the tall windows ruined the extraneous effort he had gone to in order to forget about a certain envelope or rather someone.

An entire day has already passed since his owl dropped by to hand him a single envelope. After taking a glance at the sender, he couldn’t bring himself to open it right at that instance.

In all honesty, he has absolutely no idea as to why he is avoiding opening it; well maybe he does know, and maybe it’s the reason for the dread that kept stirring at the pit of his stomach. The last time he heard from you was at the Hogwarts Express before you completely cut off contact with him.

It’s been an entire week now since the holiday break started, the same amount of time since he received a word from you, something that has never occurred. Your fights had never lasted for longer than necessary— a day would be the worst of it because he despises it whenever people make matters worse for themselves by ignoring one another. But despite his great hatred for it, he doesn’t feel a single thing except for the urgency and desperation that you answer him.

So, he doesn’t understand why you suddenly shut away from him when everything has been going great. One moment you were all snuggled up to him in the compartment you shared with your friends and then not a single word from you from the hundreds of letters he must’ve sent by now.

The sound of knocking pulls him from his thoughts.

“Hey Theo, I left some food for you here if you’re awake. Mom also set aside some medicine if you’re not feeling well, she’s worried for you.” He hears Lorenzo at the door trying to talk to him, unsure if he is even being heard by Theo.

Silence fills the room as Lorenzo leaves, thinking that he’s still asleep. Looking at the yellow ribbon that wraps around the envelope, he reaches out and takes hold of it for the first time since he last dropped it.

Pulling the band with a sense of uneasiness, he sees that it doesn’t have anything special on it, just your name at the front and numbers at the upper left corner. Pulling out the paper— wondering if the little doodles that always accompanied your letter for him would be there, but he is left frowning at the blank edges. Flipping it open, he laughs out loud at the naivety of believing it will be any good before he is choked by the lump that formed in his throat.

Let’s break up, Theo.

I’m a coward to do this over a letter, I know. I won’t blame you if you’re mad at me. I have been constantly depressed at the thought of doing this. In the weeks leading up to when I am writing this, I have been incessantly living vicariously through the memory of us.

I know it’s too much to ask after doing this to you, but please never talk to me again. Don’t ask. I won't be able to explain to you, not when I still don’t understand it and how I’m feeling.

Goodbye.

You wonder if he’ll ask. You wonder if you will ever tell him. How you will explain, how you might run away instead. It’ll be an answer enough to satiate the questions that barrage through the doors of your mind without warning.

Theo was lying in his bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to move when your body is deprived of sustenance; nor food or sleep is enough. So he lays there in the forced darkness from his drawn bed curtains, body more still and cold than a dead body 6 feet underground.

He couldn’t handle another day of hiding behind the old facade of indifference. At first, it was easy. He heeded your wish of keeping his distance even if every atom in his body begged to be near you. Saving the most painful, physical sobbing in his solitude. He was fine just seeing you be there; alive and breathing.

As the days lingered on, however, it wasn’t enough. Not when you have deprived him even of that one simple thing. Disappearing from every class you’re sharing only to find out you have requested to attend another class.

He didn’t have the energy to keep up with that charade anymore. Letting himself wither until he’s only a nutshell of the man you’ve built in the ruins of his past.

He had, in every sense but physical, become a ghost, drifting between the phases of the day without a sense of time. He relies on his day-to-day life by moving on autopilot.

He doesn’t know what he did, he begs to know because he cannot go on another day like this.

“Theodore Nott!”

His attention is called away when he hears a booming voice beside him followed by the bright light that showers over him as the curtain of his canopy is pulled open. Not a care if the man wasting away hours behind it will be mad at her.

Pansy only knew one thing: she would not have her best friend lose every prospect in his life because of both of your lack of communication. She couldn’t give a damn if you will ever manage to resolve your issues. For now, Theo is her priority and he needs to stand up and study.

She had already managed to fix you up enough to have you up and functioning, although a mere ghost on legs. But that will do, now for this man who is at the grunt of your problems.

“Stand up and go to the library.” She pulls the blanket which barely covers him, and throws it someplace. “You are going to fail your NEWTS at this rate.”

“Who cares?” He drawls out. Turning to his side to cower beneath his pillows.

“Your future does.” Knowing that he will never stand at his own will, she gathers every bit of strength in her to pull him by his arms.

“Gods, Pans. Can you just bugger off and leave me alone?”

He tries to wave her off and turns to slide beneath the welcoming arms of his bed. But before his face plants onto the soft, strewn fabric, he is pushed and pushed until they are greeted by the long, grimy corridor outside their common room. His bag full of books was thrown out the door after him. With his lack of energy, all he can do is follow her demand.

Hoping that this will distract him.

Theo trudged towards the library, dragging his feet behind him. Maybe the tranquil ambiance could be a soothing balm for his aching heart. Make him finally focus on other things in his life, knowing that whatever reason you may have, you would never wish that he put his studies on hold.

Theo chose a table tucked away in a quiet corner, where he could fully immerse himself in his books and thoughts. The flickering candle lights atop the wooden tables, weathered by the countless students that passed through Hogwarts, had added a comforting touch to his isolation. Casting dancing shadows on the polished surfaces.

This worked for about an hour and a half until he realised he had forgotten his advanced Potions book in his other bag.

Surrounded by towering bookshelves, Theo began searching for a copy of the book he’s missing and some other texts that might be helpful for his NEWTS classes. As he reached a particular shelf that contained the very books he was looking for, he couldn’t help but overhear snippets of a conversation, the hushed tones barely above a whisper.

“-Theodore?”

He decided to walk away, thinking the conversation private, when his attention was caught by the mention of his name. He wasn’t able to catch the question but he was intrigued.

With a furrowed brow, he furtively strained over the tiny slot in the shelf he pulled a book from to see two familiar faces opposite him, unaware of the person with wide eyes that locked in on one person.

As if on instinct, he dwindles at the sight of you, like a cord being pulled out of its socket, his body going back on autopilot.

He almost slapped himself in the forehead for not recognizing your voice sooner, but he wonders. Why had you appeared so sullen and gaunt? Would it have to do with him since you mentioned him? He leans back on the shelves awaiting to hear more, wondering why you were supposedly that way when you have been acting like nothing had happened between the two of you.

“We’re not together anymore, Luna.” You say in a dejected voice. Seeing it written on paper hurt, but nothing could compare to the anguish that invaded him at hearing it from you, feeling hopeless to the constant sharp pain on his chest that wrenched deeper into the wound.

“Is that why he’s been staying by the Ford Bog recently?” Luna unassumingly asks, curious.

“What?”

“When I come by to feed the Thestrals, he is always there talking to them.” He hears Luna explain. He hadn’t known that Luna had been coming over to see them also. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers that, like him, she had also witnessed her mother’s death.

“Oh.” You must be thinking about what he confessed to you when you found him in a similar situation back in the fourth year.

“You miss him.” From the manner that Luna says it, it was less of a speculation and more of a fact. “I do.” You confess.

This makes him confused. His brows knit together as he tries his best to piece together the words that slipped from you in a way he understands. You had been the one to break off your relationship suddenly, without a word of explanation. But now you sit there, admitting you miss him after you ask him to keep his distance. He is tempted to turn the corner and ask you.

“But you constantly run away from him?” Luna asks for him instead. She follows it up with another question. “You broke up with him, right?”

There was a pregnant pause before he heard your voice again.

“Yes, I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I was scared that he would do it sooner or later and I didn’t want to experience the pain of hearing it from him first-hand. So then, I decided that I would do the job for him.” You explain.

He is left stumbling back at the accusation, knowing within himself that it would be the last thing he would do in a million years. Ever, actually. What spurred this idea from you? He finds it incredibly insulting that you would think he would.

Luna asks why you think he’ll do that.

You say after a moment’s pause, “He’s been hanging out with this new friend of his before the holidays, and at first I didn’t care because I trusted him. But she just-” Your breath hitches, “She began to be more flirty and provocative with him and he didn’t even blink an eye.”

You take in a sharp breath. “I know he would never do it, and he probably didn’t even notice but I don’t know…”

His subconscious blocked out any of what followed after that horrid confession. Memories came in sudden assaults on his brain and senses. He doesn’t like how uncertain you sounded: he doesn’t know why you would think twice of his actions.

Truth be told, he did indeed notice the weird affectionate manner in Scarlet’s approach to him. Frankly, he didn’t care and settled to ignore her in order to avoid conflict as she was a friend of Mattheo. Putting her in the back of his mind and that would be the end of it.

He always knew that you had this fear that he would leave you for another, this is provoked more by his terrible past with women before you. But he never thought it would be a problem for your relationship as he constantly did his best to remind you that it was either you or nothing at all.

Though he couldn’t exactly blame you, even now as he sinks into the cold stone ground, he was stupid to think that ignoring Scarlet would suffice.

Sitting on the cold, hard floors with his head in between his hands, digits tightly clutching his hair. He doesn’t hear Luna excusing herself from your session, leaving you to clean up to prepare to leave. Stuck in the confusing labyrinth that his mind wandered off to, he didn’t notice the gentle footsteps near him, trying to avoid the librarian’s wrath.

“Theo?”

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Still not a thing from him. You become concerned.

“Theodore? Are you alright?”

You find yourself forgetting the very promise that you had even asked Theo to uphold— to never approach you. But despite your stern resolve, the sight of Theo sitting in the library corner, his distress palpable, throws it all out. Instead, the nagging fear that if you're the source of his evident turmoil.

“Theo.” You crouch down in front of him, keeping your hands nestled to your lap.

He didn’t even lift his head— you weren’t sure if he was not acknowledging you or that he simply didn’t notice you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it. Your feet are itching to run.

“I’m sorry.” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he was not in good condition. You’re confused as to why he’s being like this.

But somewhat you knew. Your heart pounds relentlessly against your chest. You knew what he was going to say.

“What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. Eyes plastered intently on the creaking floorboards. “Scarlet.”

When he speaks it into existence, you dislike the way you flinch, the familiar bitterness spreading throughout your body. Your heart drops into the pits of your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry.” Theo’s voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes were becoming blurred by the veil of his tears, bearing a weight that seemed almost unbearable. “Fuck, I’m so so sorry, Y/N.”

The lump in your throat threatened to suffocate you, leaving you on the brink of despair unable to respond properly.

“It’s my fault. I never know when something upsets you. I hardly know you better than how I’m supposed to.” He says it like he means it. Theo says it to himself more than he says it to you.

The world slows down to an adagio, and you’re caught up in the emotion that washes over you at his condition. Theo is rarely dishevelled; he’s hardly all over the place. If anything, he has always been quite proper, the opposite of the man in front of you.

You say his name softly, your gut tightening at the heart-breaking sight in front of you. Hesitating to reach out and hold him close to you. So you reach out to wipe away the lone tear that slides down his face.

“Merlin…I should be the one saying sorry.”

“What?” He finally pulls him together enough to reply to you coherently.

“It’s not you. You’re not the problem.” Your subconscious running at a millimetre per second to come up with the right words to amend his words. Finding this a bit harder than you expected. “I am so broken that my body is just encased in this eternal itch to run.”

“When I saw how you were so unconcerned about Scarlet’s obvious attempts, I panicked. I let that fear get the best of me, letting it poison my mind. I was afraid that one day you’d begin to reciprocate her attraction. Maybe you would have been happier with her. I was terrified of losing you, and when the holidays came, I grabbed the chance to cower back and let it consume me. I didn’t wanna hear you confirm that hellish thought.”

“What changed?” He croaks out. “Why are you telling me all this now?”

“A big part of it comes from my conversations with Mum. I kind of forgot that she never really sides with me when it comes to my irrational decisions and she’s always been the one to make me realise it.” You feel the urge to laugh at the thought, but you restrain yourself.

“And by heaven’s will, I want you to be happy but the need to be your happiness far outweighs that.”

But he does nothing but remain seated silently, nothing in him revealing that he plans to move. And you are terrified, for once you had no idea what was going on inside his head but you know that you had to let him think on his own. To stop assuming and making decisions off of it.

“You, you are a great deal of a headache to me. I have spent days questioning myself; was I so horrible that I couldn't even be granted the decency to be broken up to my face." cried Theo.

“No you weren’t, Theo. I promise you.”

“I know I’m not. Yet, you still made me feel like it. I was happy with you, you were my lone happiness. I think it’ll be awhile before I forget this, despite what you confess.” He says, his voice choking up now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady.

“Is that true, Theo?”

“But as upset and tired I am, I still love you.” He acquiesced. “It’s laughingly pathetic how I am still entirely yours.”

He stopped short, his hands that rested on his lap emerging to take yours in its grasp. Their grip is a perfect balance of a strong hold and a gentleness.

“And I love you too, I don’t think I ever stopped. I promise you that I’ll work on myself, make things right between us again, because I don’t think I can go on for another day like this.” You said, sworn with a conviction so strong.

He shook his head and to that you feel the disgusting worm that whispers to you appear, “No. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” But it’s crushed under his pretty foot.

“I promised you then that I wouldn’t leave you to face whatever problems you have on your own. When I confessed to you ’I love you’, it meant that I would continuously be by your side to help you with your troubles. Our troubles.” He reminds you. “We’ll fix this together from now on…nobody is doing things solo.”

He tugs on your arms, telling you wordlessly to sit beside him. When you do, by habit and longing, your head moves to rest on the juncture of his neck inhaling the scent you missed most.

Nothing felt better than to have the urge to have your head resting on him be satisfied, he wanted nothing more than to feel something as mundane as this.

As he leaned his head on her temple, you felt giddy, feeling yourself turn tomato red at the action. It was a happy time, in spite of the things that remained to be talked about, so happy that you couldn’t dare to disturb it with anything.

“Y/N…” He breaks the silence.

You hum.

“Did you ever dream about me?”

“I thought about you.”

Only a soft squeeze to your hand serves as a reply.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

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jattendschaton · 1 year

Note

Ladrien date scenario go

Rooftop picnic—Ladybug sneaks Adrien out of his room and whisks him away to a rooftop far away from the mansion. She already set up a picnic blanket and has all their favorite little treats. Adrien puts on his playlist of songs that remind him of her and she pretends not to notice how he blushes every time the word “love” is sung. He rests his head against her shoulder as they watch the sunset, bathed in warm light as her fingers run through his hair

Disguised coffee/movie date—Ladybug and Adrien wear the most hideous and ridiculous disguises so they can be out in public without being chased by fans or asked for pictures. They always pick at least one thing for the other person to wear, which started as a cute tradition until it turned into them trying to find the worst thing possible to put the other in. Truthfully, most Parisians know it's them (they aren’t as slick as they think they are), but they're left alone because no one wants a picture with them when their outfits are such eyesores

Running from fans together—Someone posts Adrien's location and as he is frantically trying to find a place to hide (perhaps turning down a blocked alley with 😱 nowhere else to run !) Ladybug drops in and scoops him up, swinging through the city with him in her arms like he’s a princess. They stop by various locations (a street performer playing music, a bakery to grab a pastry to share, gardens to try and hide in) but oh no, they are discovered every time and Adrien has to hop back into Ladybug’s arms and get carried away all over again

Fake class project date—Adrien tells Nathalie that he is interviewing Ladybug for a school assignment and must spend all weekend with her. She accompanies him on all of his photoshoots and engagements and extra lessons so they can work on it in the moments between his commitments. He always has a notepad with him to pretend like he’s asking her questions and taking notes, but really he just writes things like “you looked very pretty when you knocked over the prop table 🥺” and doodles her face with little hearts around it to show her on his break. And if he ends up going missing every once in a while when Ladybug has conveniently just stepped out for a moment and returns with warm cheeks and a dopey grin, that’s fine and normal dont worry about it

Wax museum date—Their goal is to hide around the museum standing as still as possible (Adrien has an advantage at this game) and get as many tourists to believe they are a statue as possible. They have to move through the museum subtly and try to find each other to sneak up on—Ladybug in particular likes to sneak her real statue out of its room and wait for Adrien to find it thinking it’s really her so she can sneak up on him from behind.

A quiet evening in—Ladybug swings through Adrien's open window, almost crashing into him because they are both disasters. They start out watching a movie on opposite ends of his couch like adorably flustered dorks before they have had enough of the awkwardness. Adrien shows her how to slide down the staircase banister when no one is watching, they play video games and bake a cake at 2am (also have to clean up the kitchen after covering each other in flour), and play the most intense game of "the floor is lava" that the world has ever known before flopping back onto the couch to finish the movie, draped across one another like they’re blankets

amazing, one of the best asks I've ever received, thank you for freeing me

#miraculous ladybug #ladrien #ask #anonymous

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beezusvreeland · 5 months

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a very good idea - chapter 2

summary: After your boyfriend cheats on you at a party, you break up with him, who tells you nobody else is willing to be with you like him. You decide to prove him wrong, with a little help from a new friend.

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader

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Chapter 2

Fifth grade wasn’t a great time. The transition from extroverted fourth grader to lonely fifth grader was quick and painful. All of the sudden, the rules changed, so did the dynamics and alliances. The girls you were friends with in elementary school started caring a lot about boys, clothes and parties. You did too, but didn’t have the money or parent’s permission to be a part of all that. In hindsight, that was the best thing for you in the long run, even though it made things harder when it came to fitting in.

You went to middle school with the same kids from elementary. Except for Miguel O’Hara, who transferred from a school in another part of town. He had olive skin and curls that refused to behave and a lot of charisma. But by the end of the school year, something changed. Instead of participating and making jokes during class, he just stared out the window, his hand supporting his head.

There were days he would just doodle on his notebook, others where he didn’t open his notebook at all. Your class had a teacher at time called Mrs. Winchester, who had no problem scolding students in front of everyone. She had no mercy, not even with 11 year olds.

Once, Miguel was the recipient of that type of behavior. The class was silent, copying whatever Mrs. Winchester was writing on the green board in our notebooks. The teacher stopped to check one of the pages of the book opened on her table. Looking at the students, she quickly marched in Miguel’s direction. The boy was seated at the table in front of you. His head was leaned on his right arm and he had his eyes closed.

“Miguel O’Hara!”, Mrs. Winchester screamed, walking the boy up. He jumped, opening his eyes and looking up at the teacher. “You won’t even pretend you’re doing the assignment, huh”, she crossed her arms. “Get your pen and your notebook, come on.”

Miguel took the notebook from his backpack, his hand searching for something inside.

“I don’t have all day, Mr. O’Hara.”

He looked at the teacher, embarrassed: “I forgot my case at home”.

“Well, I might just forget to grade you, what do you think about that?”, Winchester whispered, going back to the board. “This isn’t fourth grade anymore, mr.”

Miguel let out a breath and pinched at his nose nervously. If you felt horrible about his interaction with the teacher, you couldn’t even imagine what he must’ve felt. You quietly opened your furry Winnie the Pooh case and took out a pen, a pencil and an eraser. Mixed with your need for organization, your obsession with stationery came in handy.

“I hope this helps”, you wrote on the corner of a notebook page, tearing it right after. You folded it and poked Miguel’s back lightly. He didn’t move. You did again, with more intensity.

He turned his head to you with an annoyed expression. That was until he looked at your extended hand, the note and the supplies you held in his direction.

“Take it”, you mouthed, giving him a shy smile.

The boy did as he was told and turned back to his notebook, starting to take notes. At the end of the day, he put your things on your table. Struggling to make eye contact with you, he muttered: “Thanks”.

“Any time. As you can see, I have plenty”, you joked pointing at your opened case full of materials. Miguel let out a soft chuckle. Hearing that sound after the whole mrs. Winchester thing made you feel so much better.

***

You tried to let things go for a few days, to convince yourself that you should take more time to think, acting in the heat of the moment wasn’t something you were known to do.

Then thursday came around. You took a break between writing an essay and doing research for a project to make yourself a snack. Between bites, you take your phone to send a text to Jess.

You: can you pls become a millionaire soon so I can leave all this behind and just work for you

J: if u think members of my entourage will have to work u r very wrong

You: only athletes have entourages

J: oh I’ll have one too but instead of playing videogames and fucking bitches we’ll do actual fun things

You: is it sad the most fun thing I can think of right now is renting an ice cream truck?

J: jesus

J: I really failed u as best friend

Smiling, you put your dishes in the sink and made your way back to your bedroom. Checking your phone one last time before going back to work, you click on the text notification, ready for more amusing no sense, just one of the reasons you loved her so much.

Harry: yo

Harry: change your mind yet

Harry: you should while I still feel charitable

That stung. Rationally, you knew he was being a jerk, but emotionally, you were down. You closed your eyes, breathing in and out a few times, trying to calm the uneasiness that message, or rather, that word, “charitable”, triggered on you.

Harry: stubborn bitch

***

Friday, lunch time. You felt weirdly nervous as you walked toward Peter B.’s table in the cafeteria. Their group seemed to be all there: Peter was dramatically telling a story to Miles, who seemed really engaged in it, and Gwen, who just laughed and rolled her eyes. Hobbie was seated on the table, playing a few chords on his guitar. And at last, Miguel O’Hara, focused on something in his phone.

“Hey, guys”, you place your hands behind your back, shifting the weight on your feet.

“Oh, hey!”, Peter smiled. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Miles and Hobbie gave you a nod, while Gwen said hi. Miguel was still on his phone, his index finger tapping the table.

“I just…wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened on saturday.”

“Buddy, there are a lot of people who owe me an apology”, Peter put his hand on your shoulder. "You are not one of them." He sounded genuine. You nod.

“You’re here, so I know your aunt and uncle didn’t kill you. Did you get in a lot of trouble?”

“Let’s just say that it could be a lot worse”, he gave you a mischievous look.

“By that, he meant ‘if it wasn’t for my friends, who spent the entire sunday cleaning the house and putting things back together’”, Gwen added, raising her eyebrows to Peter in an accusing way.

“Give the credit where it’s due, mate”, Hobbie said, without looking up from his guitar.

Peter made a face at them, making you laugh.

“It’s fine, I’m grounded for a couple weeks”, Peter shrugged.

“Good.”

The time had come and you were feeling really anxious about it.

“Something else bothering you, darling?”, Hobbie teased.

“Well, yeah…actually…”, you turned your face to the other side of the table. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Miguel.”

Miguel stopped tapping his finger. He was still looking at the phone screen, but you could tell he heard you. With the corner of your eye, you saw the rest of the table staring at you. Peter had grabbed Miles’s arm, Gwen’s mouth was opened, forming a perfect O. You started getting that weird pain in your stomach, the one that comes out when you realize you’ve done something wrong.

Miguel slowly looked up from his phone, an indifferent expression on his face.

“Can we talk?”, you asked, looking directly at him. He looked back at you, studying your face and figure. Then he nodded.

“It was nice seeing you guys.” As you spoke, Miguel’s friends went back to their original positions. You might’ve been imagining things.

Miguel got up from the table and put his phone in his pocket. Without looking at you, he threw his backpack over his shoulder and picked up the food tray.

You started walking away, looking back to see him following you.

“Have a great talk, you guys!”, Peter shouted.

***

You seated at one of the benches outside. It was nice out, clear sky, warm temperature. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, feeling the sun hit your face. Breathing in and out, you opened your eyes slowly.

Seated on the opposite side of the bench, Miguel was looking at you: “Look, if this has to do with saturday, your boyfriend was a jerk and…”

“Ex.”

“What?”, he seemed agitated.

“Ex boyfriend.”

You couldn’t read his expression.

“It has to do with what happened on saturday, sort of. But it’s not just that”, you bit your lip, realizing you had Miguel’s full attention. “So…I heard you are having trouble getting your english grades up, is that right?”

“Who told you that?”, he asked, defensive.

“No one”, you said. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously, I swear. I heard you talking about it with Mrs. Winchester, that’s all.”

“So…”, you took a deep breath. “That’s my best subject, I could tutor you for the next few weeks, until you get your grade up.”

“And would you do that just out of the greatness of your heart?”, Miguel sounded suspicious.

“Well…not exactly…”

“Of course not”, Miguel crossed his arms.

“I need a favor from you in exchange…and you can totally say no, I know it’s a weird thing to ask.”

Miguel squinted his eyes at you. He looked almost…amused by the whole thing.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Of course”, you let out a chuckle. This was supposed to calm your anxiety, but you just felt worse. It was too late to back down though. “Ok, it sounds insane…”

“Jesús, mujer, ¡ dilo de una vez!”

“Are you telling me to speak…?”, you asked, confused. You had taken spanish for a few years, but you were nowhere near Miguel’s native speaking. His voice made the words sound even more beautiful and intense.

“Yes!”

“Ok! Here is the deal: would you pretend to be my boyfriend for a few weeks?”

“Is that it? I was starting to think you were about to steal my organs or some shit like that.”

“No, it’s just that…I can’t explain to you exactly why I’m asking you this, just that we can help each other…if you want to.”

Miguel tilted his head, as if he could analyze you better that way.

“Why me?”

“Well, you’re not my ex’s favorite person at the moment and you probably aren’t his biggest fan either, so…”, you were embarrassed to admit this, it sounded so stupid when you said it out loud.

Miguel remained quiet as he looked ahead. His fingers go through his hair, a few curls going back, others refusing to be tamed. He then let out a laugh, mumbling something in spanish. It seemed like he was going through some internal conflict, his body displaying everything he wasn’t saying with his words.

“So…?”, you asked when he finally turned to you.

“I really need to improve my grades.”

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<< chapter 1

>> chapter 3

all chapters

______________________________________________________________

a very good idea playlist

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #harry osborn x reader #a very good idea #oscar isaac fic #gwen stacy #peter b. parker #mary jane watson #miles morales #hobie brown #jessica drew #Spotify

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rustycottoncandy · 4 months

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I'm feeling a bit like a quill and want to write, so here's a bomb of facts about Avery! I've been building her :D

- Avery doesn't see her cat (Saturn) as a friend or much like another living being, but moreso as her property.

She is fond of her cat and does feel appreciation for her, yes, but doesn't see her further than as an inferior being or just an animal. As 'something' more than 'someone'.

She's not bothered by the fact that her cat will die before her sister graduates in high school and will most likely not cry her death, unlike the rest of her family (referring to mother and sister, not her WHOLE family).

- Here's a more light-hearted fact, though! To make some contrast!

She knows how to play the ukelele and often posts covers of Smooth Roses songs in her YouTube channel, which have gathered a couple of views with time.

- Aside from covers, she's also done analysis of their songs, in which she breaks down their structure and talks about the meaning of the lyrics. These kinds of videos usually last about one or two hours.

- Her videos aren't edited and they're filmed all at once in a single take, so if she mispronounces something during the recording, it will stay.

- Her whole channel isn't themed around Smooth Roses, though, as she sometimes posts stuff sharing her current projects or stuff she's built in the past and explaining the process behind them. These videos aren't very well received, unfortunately, but that doesn't stop her from making them. She doesn't really care whether people like or not what she posts and will be satisfied with just them seeing her stuff, even if they later insult her in thirty different languages.

- She's written a few songs herself, too, but they're mostly received in a bad way and usually the only ones that listen to them are herself and her mother. Then again, though, that doesn't bother her much.

- The first color that comes to my mind when I think of her is bright pink. The second one is dark blue. The primary color, to be exact.

- She STILL doesn't have an official outfit. She's got a physical appearance, but I tend to give her different clothes whenever I draw her.

- She absolutely LOVES building stuff and once created a very tiny guillotine using a pencil sharpener's blade, some wood, and a thread she found on the ground. She still has it somewhere in her closet.

- Talking about closets, hers has been painted over. It used to be white, but she once got bored and decided to draw on it, which she still does every now and then, covering up old drawings and replacing them with new ones. Apart from doodles, she's also got song lyrics here and there.

- She also draws on the walls of her room. They used to be pink and are now swarming with doodles of different colors. Some are more complex than others and have actual liquid paint on them, while others were done out of impulse with the first marker she found in her pencil case. Some parts have also only been splotched.

- Some of her clothes have been drawn over or modified, too. This applies Mostly to jeans and t-shirts, but there's also a few hoodies and jackets in the bin.

- She dyed two flocks of her hair blue BECAUSE Jackalyn (Jackie) did, from Smooth Roses. She's also thinking of dying some parts red because of Melody.

- She has spammed Melody's DMs a painfully huge amount of times, whether it is to share the videos she does about her songs or just thank her for her music. The band are aware of her existence but decide to ignore her, specially Melody and Jackalyn.

#oc stuff #oc facts #oc fun facts #original character #original characters #avery

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corvuscrowned · 2 years

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today marks one year since i posted my very first fic, The Disappearing Act, which i suppose makes it my fandomversary. i’ve written a lot of words since that first fic, but i’ve also made some incredible friends who have been exceptional support both in my writing and in life.

i wanted to take a second to thank some of the folks who have made my fics possible with alpha and beta reading. this is a remarkable amount of volunteer labor that i think sometimes goes unappreciated in fandom, and the folks who are willing to help each other out with writing are seriously the glue holding all of this together. many of my betas have worked on numerous of my projects with me, so here are some of the amazing friends who have alpha and beta’d multiple of my fics over this past year, and a cheeky little plug for some of their own writing.

@m0srael, who was an angel who swooped in to beta my first longfic when i was just a fandom baby and made me feel welcome and supported when i needed it most, and has read many a word for me thereafter. check out: my remarkable erised gift To Vanish Into Something Better, as well as their amazing timey-wimey fic, Our Time, that I will never forget.

@thebooktopus, an early fandom partner in crime who was a joy to learn the ropes alongside. oh, maddy - saver of endings, calmer of crows. where would i be without you? check out: the soft yearning of Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, the scaldingly sexy What Have You Been Hiding Under Those Robes, Professor Malfoy?

@t4tvegaspete, the love of my life, who has alpha or beta read the vast majority of the fics i’ve written this year (we’re talking over 250k of my words), and without whom i would unequivocally not be the writer or person i am today. check out: their sexy-spooky Deal With The Devil and their wistfully sharp A Problem For Another Time.

@cavendishbutterfly, who has made my fandom experience so warm and memorable and who never complains when i slide into their dms to ask if they can beta something for me, “uhhh... by, like, tomorrow?” ugh, cav, i don’t have words to say how much brighter you’ve made my time in fandom. check out: their cozy mystery cluefest The Ever Changing Room, their flannel, mitski, and cat infused friends to lovers song from the morning birds.

@vukovich, who is evil in the way i enjoy most, who was a guiding hand in my early days of fandom, and whom i will now stop saying nice things about because i know she’s allergic. beta’d my 80k erised in like a week like a fucking champ and caught every plot hole i crammed into the thing. check out: her sexy, evil Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis, and her sexy, bittersweet Fearfull Trill.

@sorrybutblog, who is currently alpha reading my longass 110k and growing WIP with exceptional patience and irreplaceable insights, and who has allowed me to send her even more thousands of words of rambling thoughts in dms without complaining once. a vision, a saint, should become emperor of the universe. check out: her age-bent, whip-sharp and characteristically poignant Not Nineteen Forever, and her comforting, enrapturing, and mysterious Heartlines.

@crazybutgood, SPaG wizard extraordinaire, who has beta read more words for me than i can count with remarkable turnaround time and the sweetest, kindest words of support. check out: her fluffy, origami-infused fangfest Heart On Your Sleeve, and this amazing podfic she did for T4T.

@moonstruckwytch, who beta read almost all of my fearfest fics from last year and was a hell of a beta and spooky writing partner whose company made last october unforgettable. check out: their fast-paced, rivetingly romantic catch a break, and their spooky My Bloody Valentine entry iterum.

this isn’t even close to a full list of everyone who has helped work on my fics in this past year, and i’m sending every single one of you a bouquet of noncorporeal roses. thanks to all of u, and to everyone who has read anything i’ve written, looked at my silly doodles, chatted with me abt fandom meta, and made this space feel like a home for the past year. you guys are all the coolest.

#i wrote that first fic wildly scrambling to be eligible for erised at the last minute #and i just signed up for my second erised yesterday #fundamentally cannot believe it has been a year #i'm so grateful for the people who have made this space what it is #thank you all #op

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mikepercy123 · 4 months

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Having multiple outlets for your creativity is important, even in the world of SEO. Whether you’re a technical SEO, content marketer, copywriter or data person, having a different outlet to express your creativity or practise your crafting skills is an important hobby to release from stress and get away from the brain fog that sometimes... Having multiple outlets for your creativity is important, even in the world of SEO. Whether you're a technical SEO, content marketer, copywriter or data person, having a different outlet to express your creativity or practise your crafting skills is an important hobby to release from stress and get away from the brain fog that sometimes descends after spending too long at your computer. In this article we attempt to outline some of the things you can do to unwind and reinvigorate your spirit. A is for Art - Read on: A is for Art: A Creative Alphabet of Ideas to Inspire Creativity Creativity is a skill that everyone can develop and nurture. It’s not just for artists or writers, but something that can be applied to almost any area of your life. Creativity is the act of bringing new ideas and understandings to life. It’s about taking information from the world around you and turning it into something original and new. The more creative you are, the more ways you can find to solve problems, think up solutions, and create something new. Creative people have an abundance of ideas because they look at things in novel ways. They don’t just see a tree; they see its bark, leaves, branches, and trunk as separate entities with different attributes. They don’t just see a car; they see it is made of metal, rubber, plastic, glass, lights, speakers… There are endless creative activities that will help boost your imagination and give you inspiration when you need it most. https://i.imgur.com/kN3BS.jpeg Write and Doodle Writing is one of the best exercises to develop your creativity. You can do it anytime and anywhere. You don’t need fancy tools or expensive materials to get started, just a pen and paper or a computer. Writing exercises can be anything from writing a description of the person sitting next to you on the subway, to writing a letter to yourself about your hopes and dreams. Keeping a journal is a great way to get in touch with your innermost thoughts and feelings. Writing “stream of consciousness” helps you explore ideas and discover hidden meanings in your life. Doodle is also a great way to get your creative juices flowing. Doodle anytime you’re stuck on a project, or when you need a break from more serious work. Doodle with a friend to inspire each other. You can also Doodle alone, especially if you have a lot on your mind and need to get it out. https://imgur.com/6wRM32E Try Crafts You’re Afraid to Try There are many different forms of art and crafts that you may have heard about or seen in magazines growing up, but never tried for yourself because you weren’t sure how to start or were too afraid to look silly. Don’t allow yourself to be held back by fear. Try something new! It’s never too late to start. And if you don’t like it, you can always stop. There are many easy crafts that you can try with a group of friends. Paint-by-number is simple and great for beginners. Scrapbooking is another easy craft that allows you to turn your memories into a beautiful piece of art that you can display anywhere in your home. If you have kids, encourage them to try new crafts. It’s a great way for them to express their creativity and have fun with their friends. https://imgur.com/zp6NhK0 Learning a Language Learning a new language can be challenging, and many people set out to do it when they’re younger and then give up. That’s a shame, as not only does it provide you with a useful skill, but it also provides many mental benefits. Learning a language improves your memory, cognitive flexibility, and problem-solving skills. It will help you become a more creative thinker because you have to look at problems from many different perspectives.

It also improves your understanding of your own language. Many people forget that language is much more than the words we use. It is the way we use them and the way we put our thoughts into words that makes communication possible. Learning a language requires you to break down complex ideas into tiny bite-sized pieces. https://imgur.com/A5w9egC Go to an Art Museum Art is the expression of ideas and emotions through visual forms. It is a powerful tool for creativity and self-expression. Visiting art museums is one of the best ways to experience art and boost creativity. Being close to great works of art will help you think and feel more creatively. You don’t have to be an art expert to get creative benefits from visiting an art museum. You can simply walk through the galleries and look at the art and let it inspire you. You could even try sketching or painting what you see. Art museums are great places to visit with friends and family. You can talk about the art, share ideas, and get creative together. https://imgur.com/chI3Z3R Try Different Mediums When you feel a creative block coming on, try switching mediums. For example, if you’re writing a paper, try your hand at painting. If you’re painting, try writing a poem. If you’re taking pictures, try writing a story. If you’re reading, try putting your thoughts into poetry. If you’re playing an instrument, try singing. If you’re singing, try writing a story. If you’re doing homework, try sketching out your thoughts. The point is to put your mind in a completely new, different mode of thinking. This will help break your block and get your creative juices flowing again. https://imgur.com/zQbEYUK Just Play Children are brilliant, creative people; they just don’t know it yet. They don’t overthink things the way we often do as adults. They don’t think, “Should I do this?” or “How will it turn out?” They just do it because they love it. They don’t worry about what other people will think of them or how they will be perceived. They just do it because they love it. And it’s these qualities we can learn from children that will help us be more creative. When you feel like you need a creative boost, stop what you’re doing and just play. Turn off your phone, leave your computer, and get outside and be a kid again. Let go of your worries and just play. Play with a friend or a child. Play with the things in your backyard or patio. https://imgur.com/3m2qabw Bottom line Creativity is the act of bringing new ideas and understandings to life. It’s about taking information from the world around you and turning it into something original and new. The more creative you are, the more ways you can find to solve problems, think up solutions, and create something new. Creative people have an abundance of ideas because they look at things in novel ways. There are endless creative activities that will help boost your imagination and give you inspiration when you need it most. A is for Art - image by Kellepics Thanks for reading! If you're new to SEO and interested to find out more about the craft, try this post: SEO Basics: Understanding Search Engine Optimisation Related Searches Here are some popular searches relating to Art: how great thou art lyrics how great thou art what is art what is nft art what is pop art cant help myself art how to create nft art how to make nft art how great thou art hymn how great thou art with lyrics To view the full list of related search queries, click here. This article was first published on AIO Spark: https://www.aiospark.com/a-is-for-art?utm_source=Tumblr&utm_medium=fs-share&utm_campaign=auto-social

#GENERAL_SEO #SEO #TECHNICAL_SEO

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penname-artist · 2 years

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Autumn Blues

Author’s Note: You know it’s gonna be a long discussion when I have to open a Google Document around it…[also: this was planned ahead of time for after my surgery. Wanted to make sure I was alive and all. Which I am, though I now have a mouth full of holes and blood. Good times.]

In summary, this post is another personal one, and I likely won't be doing so again very much, if at all, until October. There's several reasons why, but it's mostly for my health. I also want to address something about unfollowing and/or blocking some people, which is relevant to said health.

In case you find you've been unfollowed, or in a single case, blocked, please do not take them personally. These have nothing to do with the individuals; I have not been wronged, I was not offended, there was no personal reason towards any other person that is the cause of these things. I have finally come to the decision, after almost a year of push-and-pull attempts, to cut out military/navy/air force topics from my dash and from several areas of my life. They've been collective semi-tolerable triggers for a long time now, and though I have been trying to overcome it with exposure and engagement, it has reached my capacity of tolerance, and I really do not have the mental strength to risk it anymore. I do admire and respect my mutuals that post on these areas, as they all have amazing content and they're wonderful people. But for the sake of my well-being, I need to walk away from this area. This is also why I’ve officially added these topics into my Discord carrd under a list of potential triggers, as while tolerable, they can easily capsize.

I still intend to post the occasional Kittyhawk or Flysenhower bit, but only to minimal, controllable amounts. There are simply too many unwanted memories surrounding the fandom circles of those characters for me to apply myself too much to them. My enjoyment of the characters are for almost entirely different reasons than most, and so any future posts of or around them will mostly only apply to that aspect of it. I like them for me, not for the sake of anyone else, and I need to stop convincing myself that those are the same things. Easier said than done of course, but it's a process, not an event. I spent too long convincing myself to enjoy something for the sake of other people, and now I'm un-convincing myself of that.

The reason for my extended hiatus is partially because of this, but additionally for the reason that I desperately need to recollect myself after this massive burnout. The transitional weeks between July and August were so hard on me in so many ways that I dropped writing and art almost entirely for a good bit. When your natural instinct is to doodle and drabble daily, that's a scary thing to realize.

I'm really trying to come to grips with my own abilities right now, my limitations, and how to still be productive with these limitations. People in person have been clawing at me for commission work, and I barely managed halfway through the last one before giving up on the time constraints and cutting my estimated pay in half to compensate. Commissions are not something I can feasibly do, even lightly, let alone as a main source of income. As well, my requests, gifts, and personal projects have all been collectively piling up, and the paper tower of those ideas has fallen down as a result. It's a mess.

The time I'm taking off is to rest and reorganize the mess, hopefully with finished projects I can check off the list finally. As bad as I feel for taking such a long break amidst an incomplete and long overdue major collaboration, I NEED to take this time off if I have any hope of even finishing it. And I need to continue making personal adjustments and filters to my feed, lest the precious bits of creative energy I have left be drained faster than they should be.

I am - again - stupidly grateful for all of my friends and people who have my back in this admittedly terrifying change. Shu, Mac, Dusty, Storm, other Storm (yeah there's two lol), Bobbly, Rotor, Jackal, all of the rest of the Volo Pro Veritas cult, my social media mutuals and friends, and anyone else who has reached out. It's really scary, admitting that I am not as strong as I once was, that my trauma has put limitations on me, even in the places where I feel safest and most at home. But no one else is or has ever been obligated to take care of me; that's my job. And I've really been needing to clean the junk out of these corners of my brain.

If you were able to make it down this far, thank you again so much for the bit of support in this effort. I'm not down for the count just yet, so long as I'm still breathing I'll find a way to do what I love. Even if that means scaling back a little bit.

Got ideas and plans for future projects, but not leaving any details here. They'll get done when they get done, and I'm very excited to show you all the finished products. Here's to the morrow, fans and freaks. Take care of yourselves, and I'll see you on the other side.

-Pen

#updates #personal update

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juniperleafdelivery · 2 years

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Crossing the Line

* summary: Stanley just wants a break from his never ending prison. He certainly isn't expecting company

* content warning: none! just fluff here

* i've been writing a lot of stuff for the stanley parable lately, so why not share them here? this was my first time writing for stanley and the narrator, so please excuse me if they're out of character

It was just another run in The Stanley Parable. Employee number 427 didn’t remember what happened previously, nor did he really care. “Life” in the parable was simply a monotonous cycle.

But there was one thing that brought variety. That brought change.

“All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room-”

Ugh. While Stanley did enjoy the Narrator’s company, he found the off script comments much more interesting. He held his hands up towards the ceiling, motioning for the Narrator to stop.

“...simply missed a memo. Hmm? Stop? What for, Stanley?” He paused. “You aren’t getting bored, are you?” Stanley tilted his head. He thought he heard a hint of fear in the other’s voice.

“Fear!” it scoffed. “I am an omnipresent being, I don’t feel something as trivial as fear.”

Oh, really? Stanley knew for a fact that the Narrator was just as capable of fear as he was. Would he like some specific examples?

There was a short cough. “Anyways, Stanley, what could you possibly want me to stop the story for?”

A break. He wanted a break from the storyline. He heard the Narrator start to say something, probably an indignant complaint. Stanley continued in his thoughts before the other could interrupt.

He wasn’t bored of the story. He just believed…

Stanley paused, choosing his next words carefully.

It would be better if the story was experienced in small bits, instead of all at once.

The Narrator hummed, but didn’t sound entirely convinced.

That way, it won’t be overwhelming, and hearing it part by part might- will make the message sink in better.

If Stanley was being honest with what he projected to the Narrator, that part was a complete lie. The supposed message had flown over his head hundreds of runs ago. He just wanted something different. Was it a selfish motive? Maybe. But in the parable… did selfishness even exist?

“Yes… perhaps you have a point.”

Stanley snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well, Stanley, I suppose you may have your little break. While you run around doing… whatever, I will be taking a break of my own. Just call me when-”

Stanley frowned, shooting a pointed stare upwards.

“Er, you know what I mean. Just think loud enough, and I’ll hear you.”

Think loud enough? How does someone think loudly? But Stanley didn’t get an answer. The Narrator was gone for now.

He shrugged. Now was the time to enjoy his newfound freedom for as long as he could.

Stanley began wandering through the office, relishing the time alone. No British accent dictating his every move or commenting on every thought.

He picked up a pen, sudden realization dawning on him. He could vandalize this place without any consequences! At least without any immediate ones.

In a few quick strokes, Stanley doodled a self portrait of himself on the wall. It was a little messy and unrecognizable, but it was the thought that mattered. He continued forward, leaving inky markings as he went. Sure, they would be gone with the next reset, but the feeling of control that came from the action was impossible to resist.

He then paused in front of the set of two open doors. Snaking out of the right door was a thin, yellow rectangle. The Adventure Line™? No, it seemed to be a shade darker. Stanley approached it curiously, but his foot caught on the carpet. He stumbled forward, accidentally stepping onto the line as he went.

A loud, high pitched shriek sounded, causing Stanley to press himself against the wall. There was a whip-like crack as the line rapidly retreated, shrinking into a short, slightly bent arrow.

Stanley felt a twinge of guilt upon seeing the dirty marks his feet had left. His guilt was quickly overrun by confusion, however. Did… did that scream come from the arrow? Was it sentient??

He bent down, gingerly picking it up in his hands. It felt very cold, like he was dipping his hands into a bucket of paint. The arrow curled into a tight coil in Stanley’s hands. Ok, that was kind of cute. For a line. He continued down the hall, deciding to go to the employee lounge.

This run was certainly different.

As soon as Stanley sat down on a couch, the tip of the arrow lifted. It turned around, almost dazed, before pointing at Stanley. He looked down at it, giving a reassuring smile.

He still felt guilty for stepping on the arrow, but wasn’t entirely sure how to apologize. The yellow coil in his hands froze, then leaped into the air.

It lengthened and grew as it traveled, before landing in a tangled heap on the couch. The triangular tip lifted, pointing, almost accusingly, at Stanley.

“You- Stanley-” The Narrator’s voice seemed torn between anger and embarrassment. Stanley blinked dumbly, struggling to process that this arrow was his- the Narrator.

This was… his physical form? The arrow huffed. “Oh no, this is an evil spirit mimicking my voice- of course this is my physical form, Stanley!! But that is not the point! Is your spacial awareness so lacking-”

Stanley had stopped listening, fascinated by his companion’s new appearance. Its movements reminded him of an angry snake, whipping back and forth as it ranted. He reached two fingers out and placed them on the tip (head? face?? Stanley had no clue) of the arrow.

It froze, but didn’t move away from his touch. “Stanley. What are you doing.”

Oh, calm down. He was just trying something new. With his two fingers, Stanley lightly rubbed the Narrator’s head.

A tremor shook the length of the arrow, barely visible. Stanley hesitated, pulling his hand away. Did he… like that?

For once, it did not respond. Slowly untangling itself, the arrow slid over to Stanley. It looped around the other’s waist, coming to rest its head on Stanley’s shoulder. It was an interesting position, but surprisingly comfortable. Stanley smiled, gently petting the golden arrow. A soft, quiet rumbling emitted from it, similar to a purr.

Sitting in the employee lounge, Stanley found this was much better than pushing buttons, both literally and metaphorically.

And Stanley was happy.

#by the way #my writing requests are open :))#the stanley parable #tsp narrator #tsp stanley #might post more of my oneshots later

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kattartsblog · 4 days

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Update 4/23/2024 [long post]

Hoo boy, there's a lot.

First off, I want to be forward to the people wanting to know about Silver Void (my JJBA Golden Wind Parallel fan part) and its production. Admittedly; it's got the ending, beginning, and even a clear timeline of events in the story. The problem is how to glue and sew the story neatly in order for it to feel right. Adding the details of it all. There's also the question of what medium to use to tell the story. (A comic, a fic, a hybrid multimedia project?) It makes my brain get overheated.

On top of that, I've been taking a break from Jojo's, and for the last 4-5 months now, the Metalocalypse brain rot has re-emerged full force. (As you might have noticed.) And with that, I have another story to tell, my OC Makina. I have another brainstorm document to time-line events in her story, which is still in the process. Surprisingly, because it's one OC and not a whole cast of OCs, it's so much easier to manage! And since Makina's story deals with canon character interactions, the possibilities feel endless, and I'm not shooting too far in the dark.

And something really important to note is that I'm not overwhelmed by Makina's story as much. I am a very over ambitious person when it comes to my work, which is both a blessing and a curse. I get hard on myself knowing I want to write the best fan story I can. But I'm overexerting my mind, constantly asking and critizing myself, "Would this work? Would it sound good enough? Does this power fit in universe? Is it too Mary Sue like or is it too boring?"

Right now, I have a clearer vision for Makina's story than Silver Void. However, that doesn't mean I'm abandoning Silver Void altogether. I think when the time is right and I have a clearer head for it, I will pick up production again. I love my silly lil' guys too much.

For now, please look forward to more of my Metalocalypse doodles, Makina's vignettes, and future story (also revamping her profile to be more clear and rewriting the prologue... for the 3rd time lol. >_<;;) Thank you all for your support and encouragement. It really means a lot. 💜🖤❤️

#text post #brain dump #update #silver void #makina ‘medusa’ gorgon #announcement

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alpacahat67 · 7 months

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I got wrapped up in a bad case of pneumonia recently. I'm a lot better, of course, I'm at home and warm and safe. However, the reality is dawning on me. I will spare you the details but it wasn't a pretty affair. If I had gone to that band competition or waited longer to go to the doctor there's a chance I wouldn't be sitting here writing this. Either because I'm still in a hospital bed or I passed on.

But it helped me realize... so many things that I've taken advantage of. Because I'm a teenager who thinks I can just go and go and go until I smack a brick wall real hard. And when you're a kid you think you're invincible. And as I was a kid, I was put in the pediatrics unit and it had so much fantastic art. Mosaics mainly. And they were just so lovely to look at and to appreciate the craftsmanship while waiting for the elevator and all these things.

It got me thinking about just art. In general. How a little thing like a mosaic of a deer on a wall can brighten someone's day and change someone's life.

Art has always been a huge part of my life. In many ways. Music, drawing, writing, playing with (and eating) Play-Doh... it's been my whole life. I wouldn't be here without art. A lot of us wouldn't. The world would be very bland without people out there making things just to make them.

And then I was thinking... I have... so many unfinished projects. Or finished things that have never seen the light of day and... just all these writings and drawings and stuff. If I were to die? If I were to leave this world and all that stuff just rots away in a server somewhere? I would hate that. I would hate that my things aren't out there.

It seems pointless. It seems like you're just doodling up your favorite character or... writing a story that you know will waste away in your Google Docs. But what if you do if you spend your whole life creating only to get zero recognition for it? Life is scary. Life is unpredictable. It's the facts. Anything can happen.

And maybe you think it's just a pile of shit and all that... posting a WIP is good enough. It's out there. And one man's trash is another man's treasure.

I want to make people happy with my art and writing and my music. I want to make them think. I want to make a difference in at least one person's life with what I do. Because it's my entire life.

My entire. Life.

Especially marching band, which, to place my point on the "is marching band a spot" argument, I think it can be both. It can be a performance art and a sport. You need physical strength and stamina to do it but you're putting on a show for an audience as well.

And band has brought me so much satisfaction. I was so distraught about having to miss multiple competitions due to pneumonia. It feels invigorating. You work so hard, you train for so long, and even if you do horrible and the audience hates the show, you can walk away feeling good. Because you think you did a good job and, of course, you think your bandmates did too, they're practically your cousins at some point

And, of course, I love drawing and writing. But music? It's different. Hell yes it's nerdy and hell yes I get picked on sometimes for being a band kid. But that band floor has seen so many of my tears and my joys and my... laying on the ground during a 5-minute break during band camp. It's challenging and rewarding.

I took that for granted until I was sitting in a hospital bed watching my tiny little band perform on a national level with all these other big bands. It's amazing to see how far you've come as an individual and a group. It's amazing to watch a show like that on a TV, it's better to watch it in the stands. And it's even better to be on that field performing.

....I got... super off-track there. My point is to keep creating. Do what you love and don't let anyone take that from you. It's gonna feel hopeless. You're gonna feel like you suck. But practice always makes perfect, there's always room to improve. And either way, you're doing great. So post it. Show your family and friends. The worst they could do is make a bad comment. And a bad comment doesn't define your work. Do you like it? Great! It's awesome! You're passionate about this and you can do it. You look back and you cringe? Whatever! It means you've improved. And what's cringe about having some fun? It's easy to say, really, but it's an important lesson. Art and creating is supposed to be fun.

#art #rambles #this is probably a mess but itd be going against my point to not post it so #and im unsure how to tag it...

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