#the blood orange diaries

[meticulous-tendencies]

did the bare minimum and at least put a bunch of shit into the crockpot today. trying to make more meals and incorporate more chicken + veggies. marking this down as a success despite the godawful start to the day that I had

#crockpot #chicken #carrots #blood orange #iron pills #potatoes #cooking at home #meal prep #protein shake #slow cooker #chicken thighs #meal #food #food diary #food logging #high protein diet #meal log

[southislandwren]

Would really love if my landlord would reply to my text or email so I can start trying to catch a kitten and have mom bring me arby’s little playpen so once I catch one I can keep it caught and start bonding.

#I need name ideas. I’m thinking something dairy related or internship related #I’ll let my boss pick out a name maybe. or possibly a Pokémon name or something #I’m very excited at the idea of having my own mammal again. #the way I love Fred is conducive to having another cat. I don’t feel like I’m replacing him just having another fellow with me #I don’t know if I could get a dog tho. my Sammy. #also FUCK my boss’s husband for being a dick about my dog dying #bro if your intern says they almost killed themself over a dog don’t fucking laugh and make a smartass comment #I’ll fucking get you I don’t care if you have guns. I have a set of chompers that will draw blood before you even draw your gun #anyway I keep having dreams about kittens. I’m really excited to catch one #as far as we can tell there’s an orange one and a grey one and probably more #they’re living up in the hayloft so maybe some week night I’ll put out some tuna and start trying to get the kittys to stay #and then I’ll have my mom bring the playpen to our camping trip in July and then we can put the kitten in there and get a little harness #but I need my landlord to confirm I can add another pet to my apartment since I’m already bringing alpy. #I’m not gonna commit to a kitten and then find out I can’t even take it to school with me :/ #there is potentially the option to pick up a kitten in September during the farm event when I come back and visit #but ideally I’ll have a kitten during school to hang out with #diary post

[prettieinpink]

beginner guide to vitamins?

I am uneducated on vitamins and what they do for you, I only know the basics, however I did do research before posting. This is a disclaimer that I am not a doctor, and your general practitioner knows best for you. I made this into an everyday vitamin guide instead, as it is a lot more simpler for me and to avoid misinformation ❀

EVERYDAY GUIDE TO VITAMINS

About vitamins that best support you when consumed on a daily basis! I used food instead of supplements because of no specification.

VITAMIN A

Supports vision, a healthy immune system and cell growth. 

Sweet potatoes, carrots, spinach, kale and liver.

Or, look for foods rich in beta-carotene. 

B VITAMINS

Support many bodily functions and the proper development your body.

Whole grains, leafy greens, nuts or seeds and legumes. 

VITAMIN C 

Acts as an antioxidant, helps to heal wounds, supports the immune system and collagen production. 

Citrus fruits like oranges, grapefruits or lemons. Strawberries, kiwi, bell peppers and broccoli. 

VITAMIN D 

Supports bone health, immune system and regulation of moods. 

Fatty fish like salmon, mackerel, sardines. Diary products like milk, yoghurt and cheese. 

VITAMIN E 

Supports skin health and is anti-inflammatory. 

Nuts and seeds, spinach and broccoli. 

CALCIUM 

Helps with muscle contraction, strong teeth and bones and nerve function. 

Diary products like milk, yoghurt or cheese. Kale and spinach. 

IRON

Supports healthy red blood cell production and energy levels.

Red meat, poultry, fish. Legumes, tofu and spinach. 

OMEGA 3 FATTY ACIDS

Anti-inflammatory, support brain function and heart health. 

Fatty fishes or seeds. 

This post was a bit difficult, if mine wasn’t what you were looking for, here’s one that I would recommend. 

#becoming that girl #that girl #glow up #glow up era #health is wealth #health and wellness #health #self healing #green juice girl #healthy eating #healthy living #healthy girl #wellness gir #wellness era

[mothgenes]

My self-directed final for my digital illustration class, an illustration of this poem by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi. Free Palestine.

Alt text underneath the cut.

Alt text: First image: This is an illustration contained in a white boarder with an uneven frayed appearance. In a war-torn scene absent of human life, streams of missile smoke rise from behind the central figure against a red sky that grows increasingly yellow towards the center immediately behind the central figure. The central figure is an Israeli Occupation Forces operative with his Israeli flag patch visible and a single blue eye with a white Star of David to reflect the flag inside it, the other eye consumed in shadow. The face is devoid of all visible expression, and a crack is visible coming from the shadowed eye over the clay-like skin of the soldier, meant to reference the concept of the IOF as a golem. The IOF officer raises a smoking automatic rifle and gazes down the composition with a lack of feeling. He stares down a little girl with long hair blowing in the wind who's back is to the viewer, with a bleeding crosshairs over half of her face where her eye would be. She wears a Palestinian flag over her shoulders that is also blowing in the wind, and the red triangle moves beyond its borders through the bloodstains that are on it. In the wreckage visible around the soldier, there is a fallen cross visible, close to the subtle shadow of a human hand, and destroyed buildings, bringing to mind the common lie that it is a religious conflict by reminding the viewer that churches and Palestinian Christians are also being murdered and struck with missiles. In the center of the image there is white handwritten text, of the first verse of the poem "From the Diary of an Almost-Four-Year-Old" by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi. It reads, "Tomorrow, the bandages will come off. I wonder will I see half an orange, half an apple, half my mother's face with my one remaining eye?" Page 2 alt text: The background is black with a trail of red smoke crossing the composition from the bottom right up and over to the top left in an uneven organic curve. At the bottom right there is the shattered clay head of a golem in a broken army-green helmet. One eye has been shattered and most of the face has been destroyed. There is a smear of blood over a shatter mark on our left's side of the forehead of the golem, as though made by a stone from a sling intended to subtly reference David and Goliath, with the IOF as Goliath. The smear of blood covers the first of three characters that make up the text usually down on the foreheads of golems. In folktales, the way to deactivate a golem is to wipe away the first character of their text, which normally reads "emét", which is truth in Hebrew. Removing the first character makes it say "mét", which means death. This calls for the retirement of the IOF as an entity as it does not help anything- only harms. White text is the main focus of this piece. The white text reads: From the Diary of an Almost-Four-Year-Old" by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi Tomorrow, the bandages will come off. I wonder will I see half an orange, half an apple, half my mother's face with my one remaining eye?

I did not see the bullet but felt its pain exploding in my head. His image did not vanish, the soldier with a big gun, unsteady hands, and look in his eyes I could not understand

I can see him so clearly with my eyes closed, it could be that inside our heads we each have one spare set of eyes to make up for the ones we lose

Next month, on my birthday, I'll have a brand new glass eye, maybe things will look round and fat in the middle— I've gazed through all my marbles, they made the world look strange.

I hear a nine-month old has also lost an eye, I wonder if my soldier shot her too—a soldier looking for little girls who look him in the eye— I’m old enough , almost four, I've seen enough of life, but she's just a baby who didn't know any better.

#free gaza #free palestine #gazaunderattack #gaza genocide #gaza ground invasion #palestine #hanan mikha'il ashrawi #palestinian poetry #artists for palestine #iof terrorism #fuck the iof #israel is a terrorist state

[ahaura]

(Dec. 12) [Article] by Hind Khoudary

Article title:

Diary from Gaza: 'If death doesn’t come from airstrikes, it will come from starvation

Article subtitle:

Hind Khoudary, with the World Food Programme in Gaza, recounts hard days in the strip during and after a brief humanitarian pause

Article text:

After seven weeks of relentless bombardment that left 80 percent of Gaza's population – 1.8 million people – displaced, trapped and acutely hungry, a week-long humanitarian pause came into effect offering a temporary respite and allowing some aid into the small, decimated and fully-deprived enclave where food, water, medicine and any of life's necessities are dangerously low. 

Hind, a native of Gaza, has made it her life's mission to share the stories of her people. In this account, she bears witness to the suffering befalling Gaza and how she and others are surviving. For weeks, Hind reported on life in Gaza. Below, she shares her story of displacement, the loss of her home, days without food, losing hope and finding it again.

Caption: A displaced Palestinian family now living in a makeshift camp in southern Gaza without water, electricity, or enough food. Photo: WFP/Ali Jadallah

24 November I woke up today to an unfamiliar silence. The absence of warplanes, drones and bombs. The uncertainty that it would last felt uneasy.

On the first day of the temporary pause, our footsteps led us to the Al Aqsa Martyrs hospital, where ambulances were transporting civilians wounded by gunshots on a road that was supposed to be safe. “We wanted to go back home,” a man with an injury in his right leg screamed.

People were shouting, doctors were in a rush trying to save those injured in their lower limbs from amputation. The hospital’s floors, once pristine, were now painted in the shades of spilled blood. As I looked around at the blood-soaked ground, I couldn't help but question, “Where is the ceasefire?”

Caption: Non-stop bombardment has decimated homes and buildings in Gaza, with families now living amid the rubble and searching for debris to make a fire to cook. Photo: WFP/Ali Jadallah

On that day at least 17 Palestinians were injured. Yet, as the day unfolded, an unsettling normalcy settled in – a silence that didn’t seem to care for the ruthless acts that left dozens of Palestinians dead or injured on the supposed respite's very first day.

In the midst of the heart-wrenching scenes, I decided to seek solace at the shore of Gaza, yearning for the calm sight of the sea and the soothing rhythm of the waves. The shore that I had been a stranger to for six weeks. Barefoot on the sand, I took a deep breath. All I hope for is an end to the violence.

Caption: The author and Palestinian families enjoy some respite on the shore of Gaza on the first day of the humanitarian pause (24 November). Photo courtesy of the author

Children were swimming in the sea, laughing and playing – seemingly oblivious to the war. Gazans used to gather at the sea for picnics with friends and family, but today there were none. The absence of any food underscored the stark contrast between the ordinary joys of life and the grim reality of conflict.

25 November

The humanitarian pause agreement was meant to allow aid into the Gaza Strip. And yet, the supermarket shelves were empty. People were searching for salt, yeast and wheat flour to make bread. Everyone was desperately searching for ways to bring bread back into their lives, in supermarkets or on the streets – but no one can find.

A sign stapled on a supermarket entrance read: “WE DO NOT HAVE YEAST OR SALT”.

We went to Deir El Balah’s marketplace searching for food, but we could not find any. Tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, eggplant and oranges are all you can find. We even searched for winter clothes and blankets; we also did not find any.

If some supermarkets had anything at all on their shelves, it was soap and shampoo. 

People are still going to shops, navigating aisles in the hope of finding anything they can return with to their children yearning for sweets. But how do you soothe a child crying for chocolate when you cannot even make them bread?

There is not enough food or aid reaching all of the people in the Gaza Strip.

Caption: In in Deir El Balah people crowd a market searching for food, while shop shelves are empty. Photo: WFP/Ali Jadallah

6:00 pm: I found out my home was  bombed from a video shared by someone on Instagram. I am still in denial. I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes. But I can’t.

Home is a couple of minutes away, but I cannot even go search for my belongings because people are restricted from going there. Gaza has been a besieged enclave since 2007 and Palestinians have had to deal with the lack of freedom in moving within the Strip or leaving it.  

A temporary ceasefire without going back home was cruel.  It is not only me. “Can we go back to our homes?”, is the only question everyone is asking. Not being able to go back home made me sad and depressed. But not being able to mobilize from the north to the south of Gaza has been suffocating more than bombardment.

During the seven-day humanitarian pause, WFP and partners managed to scale-up assistance and reach people in areas that were cut off from aid for weeks. Hundreds of humanitarian aid trucks crossed into Gaza, but this was not enough in the face of the catastrophe unfolding. 

Then the fighting resumed once again, and with it, more displacement, the risk of famine, and disease.

1 December

On 7am on Friday morning, we woke up to the sound of explosions and drones buzzing in the sky.

We knew it was coming, but no one was ready for all of that to start again after seven days of calmness without the buzzing noise of drones.

Israeli warplanes started launching multiple air raids across Gaza, targeting residential areas everywhere in Gaza. Explosions have not stopped since the resumption of the fighting. Artillery shelling, drones, warplanes, gunboats fire have not stopped.

In the first 24 hours reports say at least 200 Palestinians were killed. Thousands remain under the rubble where the civil defence teams can’t rescue all of these people.

However, the Israeli forces published a map with block numbers. Every area was given a block number, where they will start giving each block instructions to evacuate. But no one knows which block their home has been assigned and no one knows where to go. They run from one area being bombed to another. 

People were frustrated and terrified, they were already displaced from their homes to areas in Gaza that they were told would be safe. But the reality is this: in Gaza no place is safe. People are fleeing from one death to another.

Caption: Relentless bombardment on Gaza has displaced more than 85 percent of the population. Photo: WFP/Ali Jadallah

If death doesn’t come from airstrikes, it will come from starvation.

Today, we were sharing a bottle of juice that a friend managed to find. We were rationing it among ourselves when a massive explosion unexpectedly occurred close to where we are staying, we ran into each other fearing another explosion. This was the last bottle of juice we had in stock. I hadn’t managed to take a sip. 

Today, I was intensely hungry. The only thing I could find was zaatar (thyme) and some bread that my friend’s mother made over firewood. To secure some wheat flour to bake bread, families can pay astronomical amounts of money. In one area inside Gaza, a bag of wheat flour – a rare find these days – was 400 NIS (US$ 107).

Food options are now a thing of the past. We no longer have a choice of what to eat, we eat what is available.

I yearned for something sweet. It has been so long without anything that I have forgotten the taste of pancakes with bananas.

4 December 

We have officially run out of food.  We went to the market to look for something to to eat and returned with cucumbers. We are drained, dehydrated, starving and cold. 

People in Gaza city do not even have the freedom to search for food. Anyone who moves would be risking their lives. Neighbours have opened their doors to share whatever they have between them. 

Now that the middle area of Gaza has been cut off, no aid has entered. People were asking to move but we have no way to leave and nowhere to go. The situation has been devastating more than ever.

We are starving. We are trapped. We are under non-stop explosions, airstrikes, artillery shelling, gunboat fire. Everything, everywhere, all at once. 

We have no access to water - even dirty water - electricity, food, nothing. 

Caption: Gazans forced to live in makeshift camps in southern Gaza line up to fill water in jerry cans. Photo: WFP/Ali Jadallah

Yesterday the first meal we had was at 8 pm. I was hungry all day long but I didn’t tell anyone because everyone was hungry too. 

Today, in the morning, we had some bread for breakfast. But I cannot help but think  “When will this end? When will we go home?“- despite our homes being bombed. Nothing exists. Nothing feels the same. It’s raining now, I just heard an airstrike. 

People are tense, fragile and cold.  They don’t have winter clothes, when they evacuated, they did not have time to take any of their clothes, belongings, loved things. 

Me too. When I went out of the house, I went as if I was going to work and coming back. I ended up never coming back again.

Everything is heart-breaking and overwhelming. All of these babies, and children and dead bodies.

I hate the sirens of the ambulance. I hate seeing it rain because I know everyone is shivering, it is very cold. 

Caption: The food brought in during the humanitarian pause was not enough to meet the soaring needs of the people of Gaza. Photo: WFP/Ali Jadallah

We haven't had electricity since the first couple of days. I forgot what electricity means. 

I miss sleeping on my bed. I miss my mom. I miss my family. I didn’t get to see them for more than two hours in the past 60 days.

The violence is increasing day after day. More people are being killed, starved. We are witnessing all of this and we can’t do anything.

It’s heart-breaking to live through this with no end in sight.  It is hard for me to accept that I cannot do anything but witness this carnage with everyone else in the Gaza Strip. 

#palestine #hind khoudary #wfp #world food programme #articles #📁.zip

[winxanity-ii]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃

╚»★«╝ 𝐊𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ╚»★«╝

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: angst?? horror?? idk y'all

‌🇷‌🇦‌🇹‌🇮‌🇳‌🇬‌: non-explicit(?) i don't really know, i only count explicit for sex tbh

🇵‌🇴‌🇻‌: 2nd person; You/Your

🇩‌🇪‌🇸‌🇨‌🇷‌🇮‌🇵‌🇹‌🇮‌🇴‌🇳‌: in which, on your way home, you encounter the big bad wolf.

🇼‌🇴‌🇷‌🇩‌ 🇨‌🇴‌🇺‌🇳‌🇹‌: 3.5k

🇦‌/🇳‌‌: Y'all know what time it is...it's time for the annual fall in love with The Originals/The Vampire Diaries season😫❤️❤️ .

★·.·´ 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌ 🇴‌🇷‌🇮‌🇬‌🇮‌🇳‌🇦‌🇱‌🇸‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The last dying rays of the sun slanted through the trees, casting long shadows that merged into the encroaching darkness. The woods are a sanctuary, a place where the raw beauty of nature soothes the soul. Ancient trees stretch towards the sky, their branches etched like dark veins against the orange-red backdrop of the setting sun. The smell of damp earth and decaying leaves permeates the air, filling your nostrils with that comforting, earthy aroma. But even amidst all this peace, there's a knot of tension in your belly, an unsettling feeling you can't shake off. You pull your red cloak closer around you, its hood draped over your head like a protective shroud. Your basket swings lightly against your hip as you navigate through the twisted roots and overgrown bushes that make up the forest floor.

You're humming a soft tune under your breath, an old lullaby that used to put you to sleep as a child. The melody mixes with the sounds of nature, harmonizing with the distant call of a nightingale and the subtle rustle of leaves in the breeze. The song serves as a bridge between you and the forest, inviting you deeper into its labyrinthine depths.

But then, you hear it—a stifled sob, followed by a low, cruel laugh. It cuts through the peaceful backdrop like a serrated blade, jolting your senses. Your pace quickens, each step heavier than the last, guided by the haunting echoes that grow louder as you approach the source.

Emerging from the dense underbrush, you come into a clearing and freeze. A nauseating scene unfolds before you. A young boy with tousled brown hair, probably around 12 years old, is pinned between two figures. He's dressed in what you can only guess were once clean, mage-appropriate clothes, now marred with dirt and blood. The skin around his neck is soaked in red, where the female vampire's fangs are currently lodged. Her fiery red hair contrasts sharply with the pale, death-like complexion of her skin and her eyes glow a dull, hypnotic red.

On the other side of the boy, a male vampire stands with golden-blond hair framing a face that would be handsome if it weren't twisted in a grotesque expression of delight. Blood smears his lips and chin as he momentarily lifts his mouth from the boy's other shoulder, clearly having had his share before you arrived. The boy's face is a mask of pure agony, eyes clenched shut, as though willing himself to wake up from a nightmare.

The vibe is sickening. You can practically taste the malevolent glee coming off of the vampires; they're reveling in the power they have over their young victim.

Anger flares within you, making your body tremble uncontrollably for a moment. Your fingers clutch the handle of your basket so hard your knuckles turn white. Every instinct you have screams at you to do something, to end this abomination of a scene right here, right now.

The moment the blond vampire's eyes lock onto yours, you don't hesitate. Your focus sharpens, and an invisible force guided solely by your intent hurls the two vampires away from the boy. They're thrown back as if hit by a gust of hurricane winds, the blond male tumbling into a tangle of branches and shrubs, and the redhead landing on her back with a thud.

Quickly, you stride over to the boy, who's now lying limply on the ground. Gently placing your hand on his chest, you invoke a healing stasis combined with sleep paralysis. A translucent bubble encases him like a protective cocoon, and with another thought, you elevate him high above the trees. Safe, at least for now.

The male vampire regains his composure and lunges at you, fangs exposed, snarling like a wild animal. But before he even gets close, you whip around, and your thoughts hurl him to the left, violently crashing him into a thick cluster of trees. Simultaneously, your right- hand reaches out to target the female, gripping her throat with an invisible force.

Closing your left hand into a fist, you hear the male vampire let out a pained grunt. His body starts to stretch, elongating painfully against the trunk of a tree. It's like he's being stretched on some invisible rack. "Stay put, bloodsucker," you hiss, eyes flicking momentarily to ensure he's immobilized.

Swiveling back to the redhead, who's struggling to get to her feet, you tighten your invisible grip around her throat. Slowly, your unseen force lifts her off the ground. She claws at the air, trying to dislodge your psychic grasp. "Having fun yet?" you taunt, pulling her closer. "Is this how you get your kicks? Feeding off defenseless kids?" Your words drip with contempt.

As you lock eyes with her, your own eyes start to shimmer, cycling through an array of soft pastel colors. Then they darken, a kaleidoscopic storm settling into a focused, threatening hue.

You tighten your psychic grip around her throat, just enough to make her gasp for an air she doesn't need. Then, with a flick of your wrist, you toss her aside like discarded trash. As she hits the ground, you splay your fingers wide, and her body obliges, stretching out into an awkward starfish position, each limb pinned by an unseen force.

"Let me go, bitch," she hisses, fangs on full display and eyes ablaze in a menacing red. She struggles, but the force you've wrapped around her holds firm.

You laugh, but there's no humor in it—only the promise of reckoning—as you stroll over to her. "Look at you, all defenseless and pinned to the ground. Not so high and mighty now, huh?" The words come out almost playfully, but the undertone is anything but.

Dropping your gaze, you lift your foot and stomp down on her chest. She manages a strained cough, then laughs weakly. "I-Is that all you've got?"

You make a pouty face, letting out a mock-whiny, "You didn't even let me try," but it shifts into a dark, knowing smirk a moment later.

Confusion flickers across the vampire's face, quickly replaced by realization and horror. She coughs again, more violently this time, and blood splatters from her mouth. "W-What the fuck d-did you do to me?" she manages to sputter out.

With slow deliberation, you lift your foot. A vibrant green vine emerges from your sole, its other end already embedded into the vampire's chest. As you step back, the vine detaches from your foot with almost graceful ease, like a paintbrush lifting away from a canvas after the final stroke. For a few seconds, the vine quivered in the air, curling and uncurling before morphing into a sharp point and plunging deep into the vampire's chest.

"Son of a bitch! When I get out of this, I'll rip you apart!" the male vampire shouts from his tangled prison of branches and unseen magical restraints. His words are a raw snarl, each syllable promising violence and retribution; it's almost like he's trying to fill the clearing with his rage, as if that could free him.

As you hear his threat, you can't help but shoot a sidelong glare at him, your face hardening into a steely expression.

"Let her go, you witch! I swear, if you touch her—"

With a scowl forming on your face, you raise your left hand and open your clenched fist. "Shut it!" you shout. At your command, a brutal force grips the male vampire's throat, and in a sickening moment, you can see his eyes bulge as his voice box is violently torn out. Blood spews from the gaping wound and his mouth; he tries to scream but can only gurgle, his face turning a ghastly shade.

His vampiric healing abilities kick in, struggling to close the wound, but you're one step ahead. A faint golden shimmer coats the wound, preventing it from healing and causing it to reopen repeatedly, like an endless loop of pain. It's a grotesque imitation of Prometheus's eternal punishment, his wound ever-renewing. His screams turn into agonized gurgles.

Shifting your gaze back to the redhead vampire on the ground, she's writhing in agony and terror. Her eyes, now filled with a horrifying realization, dart between you and her tortured partner.

Falling into a squat, you lean over to stroke her fiery red hair. "Aw, don't worry, sweetie," you coo, your voice dripping with mock concern, "your turn is coming soon."

The moment the last word leaves your lips, the female vampire lets out a spine-chilling screech that could give La Llorona a run for her money. Despite your hold on her, her back arches, lifting a few inches off the ground as if defying your magical constraints.

Just then, the green vine that had earlier embedded itself into her chest sprouts explosively from every crevice of her body. Like tendrils of some grotesque plant, they shoot into the soil beneath her, pulling her several feet below ground level. The vines thicken and pulse, absorbing the flowing crimson from her body. Almost instantaneously, an array of dark red flowers bloom along these vines, filling the air with the faint but unmistakable scent of blood.

"Ah, Florae Sanguinis," you hum appreciatively, recognizing the rare mystical flowers that have just bloomed. "Excellent for age-defying spells, I've heard."

With a satisfied nod, you pluck a few of the blood-red blossoms and drop them into your basket. As they fall, the basket glows faintly gold, signaling the activation of your dimensional storage. The flowers vanish from sight, safely tucked away for future use.

Standing up, you catch sight of the male vampire still writhing in agony, suspended in the trees. "Oh," you muse, a playful lilt in your voice. "My bad, almost forgot about you."

With a casual flick of your left wrist, you undo the magical bindings holding him in place. But instead of transforming him into another Florae Sanguinis like his partner, he combusts spontaneously, reducing to a spray of blood and entrails that splatter all over the oak tree he was pinned to.

As you stroll towards the floating protective bubble holding the young boy, you talk to yourself, pondering your decision. "Hmm, no need for another Florae Sanguinis here," you muse. "I kinda want this spot to be my secret garden. Having two in one spot would make this place way too popular, and I like my little secret places free from the prying eyes of the curious and the greedy. One flower's enough to keep it mysterious but not make it a local tourist trap for every wannabe spellcaster."

Satisfied with your logic, you continue on, leaving behind a gruesome but strangely beautiful scene.

You wave your hand and the bubble hovering above dissolves, its shimmering essence sinking into the petals of the lush flower bed you had just conjured. As the boy gently settles onto the floral cushion, you squat beside him to inspect his condition. A hum of approval escapes your lips as you note the absence of any vampire-inflicted wounds. Tsking at the torn and blood-stained state of his clothes, you flick your wrist and watch as the fabric seamlessly mends itself, good as new.

Gently, you brush your fingers against his cheek while whispering an incantation. His eyelids flutter open, and with a gasp, he's awake. Initially disoriented, his eyes fill with tears as he scuttles backward, shaken and fearful. A brief flashback races through his mind: he was following his clan's designated trail when he was yanked into the woods, bitten and violated by two vampires.

You make a soothing noise and extend your arms, pulling him gently toward you. The tension in his small frame loosens almost instantly as he nestles under your chin, enwrapped in a warm, comforting aura. Rocking gently, you shush him, repeating that he's safe now. His breathing slows, and the tremors subside.

Gently pulling away, you cup his face with your hands and wipe away the remnants of his tears. "Are you okay, little one?"

His eyes lock onto yours for a moment before he breaks down again. "I-I was w-walking... v-vampires got m-me... s-so scared."

"Shh, it's all right," you coo, leaning in to touch your nose to his forehead gently, a traditional act of endearment witches often share with young members of their community to console them. Recognizing the familiar gesture, one he's experienced from the elders in his own clan, the boy sighs and leans into the touch, finally allowing himself the relief of feeling safe.

You pull back, locking eyes with him once more. "They can't hurt you anymore," you reassure him, your voice tinged with a gravity that leaves no room for doubt.

With the young wizard finally calm, you rise to your feet and extend a hand to help him up. A flick of your wrist summons his dropped satchel, mending any damage it sustained during the ordeal. You drape it carefully over his shoulder, making sure it sits comfortably.

Reaching into your enchanted basket, which glows faintly gold as your dimensional storage activates, you pull out one of the freshly plucked Florae Sanguinis blooms. A protective bubble forms around the mystical flower. "I suspect some members of your clan will be thrilled to have this," you say, handing it to him. "If you break the bubble under a full moon, the flower will multiply, and its magic will intensify."

His eyes widen with delight, and he nods, soaking in every instruction you offer.

Your smile returns, softer this time, as you use your hand to smooth down his hair. You bring your thumb up to your mouth and let one of your canines elongate momentarily into a delicate fang. You prick your finger, and the blood that wells up glows with a faint shimmer of gold. Carefully, you reach over and draw a cross on his forehead, completing it with a circle that surrounds it and pressing a small dot in the center. The symbol pulses softly, shifting between shades of red and pink, warming the skin beneath it and radiating a soothing energy.

Feeling the comforting heat, the boy's eyes light up, and he gives you a toothy grin before bowing. "May your path forever be lit with the light of a thousand stars," he says, his voice tinged with an innocence that makes the words resonate more profoundly.

With a final, affectionate pat on his head, you gently turn him toward the path ahead. "Get home safe, little one," you tell him, a note of tenderness coloring your words.

He nods vigorously, a look of newfound confidence in his eyes, and takes off down the path, which glows with a faint, ethereal blue. As he runs, your blessing activates into the shape of a blessed deity that manifests at his back—a goddess draped in celestial robes, her eyes like twin moons and her hair a cascade of shimmering stardust. She whispers encouragements into his ear, her voice a melodic hum that only he can hear, while also alerting him to any impending dangers on his route. With her divine guidance, his journey promises to be as smooth as the still surface of a moonlit lake.

Relieved that the young wizard is now safe and under divine protection, you let out a sigh, the tension leaving your shoulders. As you pivot, prepared to get back to your own affairs, you find yourself startlingly face-to-face with a man whose presence feels almost as ancient as the woods around you. His eyes are an arresting shade of blue that seem to glow with untamed ferocity, a sharp contrast to his immaculately styled blond hair. He carries himself with an air of aristocracy and danger that seems to defy time. There's something unnervingly familiar about him, something from bedtime stories meant to both enchant and terrify young children.

"Klaus Mikaelson," you finally speak, putting a name to the myth standing before you.

Klaus offers a teasing coo in response, his lips curving into a smirk. "What are you doing out in the woods so late, Little Red?" His gaze drops to your red cloak and then to the basket in your hand, filled with items only those in-the-know would find intriguing.

Ignoring the way you shiver at the nickname, you can't help but be cautious, your upbringing filled with tales of the infamous Mikaelson family, stories laced with blood, betrayal, and the sort of magic that could level entire villages.

"I could ask you the same," you counter, your voice steady despite the caution flaring within you. "You're far from New Orleans."

A dark chuckle escapes Klaus as he begins to circle you, maintaining several feet of distance between you. The effect is unsettling, like a predator sizing up its prey. "Well, you see, I have some business to take care of. A few of my henchmen have gone missing, suspiciously so. Word has it, some witches are taking matters into their own hands."

Your heart skips a beat. You pull your red cloak a little closer to your body as if the fabric could shield you from his piercing gaze. "I wouldn't know about that," you say cautiously. "I don't venture near the French Quarter anymore. Not since they've put that constraint on witches. Can't use our powers without some Council's approval."

You keep your recent trip there to yourself, recalling your rendezvous with an old friend, Davina, who shared some valuable information. The world seems to narrow as you glance back up, and a small gasp leaves you. Klaus is now standing just a few inches away, his sudden closeness catching you off guard.

Klaus coos softly, the mocking tone evident in his voice, "Did I scare you, love?"

His proximity is electric, challenging, and for a moment you forget the cautionary tales, the warnings, the age-old stories of treachery that are synonymous with his name.

You recover quickly, swallowing down the involuntary fear. "I'm not easily scared," you reply, locking eyes with him. "Especially not by wolves masquerading as men."

"You wound me, Little Red," Klaus teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief. But in the blink of an eye, the atmosphere changes. His hand shoots out, capturing your neck and forcing you to tilt your head back, your gaze locking with his. Your eyes widen, your body trembles; you're caught in the snare of his power.

As if to soften the severity of the moment, he lets his other hand drift up to caress the side of your face. His finger traces the contours of your cheek, your jawline, a strangely tender action that stands in stark contrast to the grip he has on your neck. "You see, I'm not just any wolf," he says, his voice lowering to a rumble that reverberates through you.

"I'm the original big...bad...wolf," he purrs, his eyes suddenly glowing a fierce gold. Black veins creep across his face, a dark web of power, and his fangs drop—both the elongated canines of a vampire and the deadly incisors of a werewolf.

In a split-second decision, you channel your own latent power, surging it up from your core and pushing it outward. The spellwork you learned from years of study—scribbled into the margins of old grimoires and whispered to you by wise mentors—echoes in your mind. With a wordless chant that you form in your thoughts, you create a shimmering shield between you and Klaus.

For a moment, just a heartbeat, his grip falters and his eyes widen in genuine surprise. You use that instant to break free, stepping back and regaining your composure. The tension in the air is palpable, but it's different now. It's not just him circling you; you've marked your own space in this dangerous dance.

You hold Klaus's gaze, a shiver trickling down your spine as you sense the weight of his ancient, predatory aura. Your hand tightens around your basket, grasping it like a lifeline. "Stories have beginnings and endings, Klaus Mikaelson, but some also have cautionary tales."

His eyes narrow slightly, sensing the trepidation laced within your defiance. "Ah, but those are the best kinds, aren't they? Because cautionary tales are born from danger, and danger," he leans in just a hair closer, lowering his voice to a silky whisper, "is oh so thrilling."

Finally, he steps back, putting a physical distance between you that does little to break the tension stretching taut as a wire. "Until we meet again, Little Red. I'll be looking forward to reading the next chapter."

He turns, his form melding seamlessly into the shadows, and you're left standing there in a clearing that suddenly feels too big and too small all at once. It felt like ages before you were sure he was gone to drop your shield. You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding.

As you walk away, the forest around you settling into nocturnal life, you can't shake off the unsettling feeling that's crawled under your skin. Yes, your story with Klaus Mikaelson has twisted roots and uncertain paths—paths that you're both eager and afraid to tread.

i couldnt stop myself 😭😭

#klaus mikaelson #the originals x reader #the originals #the originals x you #the originals x y/n #klaus x reader #klaus x y/n #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus michaelson #‧̍̊˙˚˙xaniwrites-klaus mikaleson

[taikanyohou]

truly love how the vegaspete fandom vibes are so fucking top tier. it's just. like.

shameless. full of love. unhinged. tender. horny and kinky. two seconds away from bursting into tears and sobs. impeccable taste in fashion and art. bloodlusting. a little fucked up. codependency apologists. heart wrenching screams. pathetic vegas and dark pete enablers. vegaspetemacau gatekeepers. in a state of episode 10-14 constantly spinning round and round in the brain. malewife vegas and pillow princess pete advocators. flirting in the temple. khun spikes. hunger and food. making out in the hospital. safehouse diaries. homoeroticism and religion. life and death and rebirth. clinging onto one another as they sit on the ground and cry. black and white. cigarettes and leather. motorbikes and guns. neck kissing and ass eating. jewellery and weapons. making love in bisexual lighting. what's YOUR blood type? loungewear. ugly sobbing into your food. do you wanna condom share?. foreheads touching. unwavering eye contact after a torture session. i'll kill you (no i can't) i'll kill myself (no you can't) will you kill me? (i can put a bullet through your deltoid if it means no one else gets to kill you) will you kill for me? (without any hesitation). kissing in the middle of a ring of dead bodies as i bleed into your mouth. caressing of the face. tattoos. shedding of the skin. dropping of the masks. pete pet(e) pete. ropes and handcuffs and chains. violence and sex. seeing and being seen. red and pink and green and yellow and orange and blue and purple. abuse and adandonment. trauma bonding. self loathing and nothingness. love and choosing and the sacrifices we make. mirrors. two sides of the same coin. jigsaw pieces with strange shapes that connect perfectly.

#faiza talks #vegaspete #I MISS THEMMMMMMMM. #like. this all probably sounds so '?????? girl what the fuck ???????' to an outsider but 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ it is like that.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Day 6 — Farmers Market

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 500

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Hint of Smut — implied sex.

Authors Note || I posted this last year, but it flopped, so I’ve rewritten it, and I’m reposting it for this year.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Flufftober Masterlist

The air was packed with smells of pumpkins, spice, and everything else that was the scent of Autumn. It filled your lungs as you dragged Bucky towards the entrance to the annual Farmers Market you’d longed for all year.

Going to the Market was one of your favourite activities to do in October. The stalls were filled with produce and decorations. The big patch in the distance was filled with pumpkins of varying sizes and colours, as well as an orchard with apples dark as blood.

As you walked through the arched entrance, your face lit up as you took in everything. Bucky’s arm wrapped around your shoulder to bring you closer to him.

“Babe, look! It’s perfect. It’s everything I wanted it to be.”

Before he could comment, you pulled him towards the stalls for a better look at what they offered.

You spent some time looking over various produce, decorations and trinkets on display, deciding what to buy.

After almost an hour of walking around hand in hand and buying everything you needed at the stalls, it was time to choose some pumpkins and a few tasty apples.

“Let’s bring a wagon with us. It’ll be easier to drag them along than carry them in our arms.” Bucky suggested.

“Good idea.” You agreed. “You’re in charge of lifting and pulling while I’m the boss of pumpkin picking.”

“Sounds like a plan, doll.”

Hand in hand, you walked amongst the pumpkins. You spotted a medium-sized one. It was the perfect orange colour and perfect shape for carving.

You bent down to cradle it in your arms. It wasn’t that heavy, but Bucky immediately picked it out of your arms and placed it in the wagon.

“You do the choosing. I do the lifting, remember?”

“Oh, yes, Sir.”

He gave you a look. A look you knew all too well when you called him that. His sinful thoughts and fantasies would have to wait for later when you got home.

“Pumpkin picking now, sex later, Bucky.”

You gave him a sweet and soft peck on his lips, grabbing his hand in yours again to pull him deeper into the patch to pick a few more pumpkins.

When the wagon was as full as it could get with pumpkins of various shapes and sizes, as well as those apples, it was time to head home and start decorating and cooking.

After loading it all into the car, you high-five each other for a well-done job, followed by a much-deserved kiss.

“Sex first, decorating later when we get home?” Bucky suggested with a smirk as he palmed your ass. His eyes that gazed into yours were dark with desire.

“Sounds like a plan, Sir.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

#flufftober 2022 #flufftober #tfatws!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fluff

[thenewgothictwice]

Mahmoud Darwish , “A Lover from Palestine” 1966

"Your eyes are a thorn in my heart

Inflicting pain, yet I cherish that thorn

And shield it from the wind.

I sheathe it in my flesh, I sheathe it, protecting it from night and agony,

And its wound lights the lanterns,

Its tomorrow makes my present

Dearer to me than my soul.

And soon I forget, as eye meets eye,

That once, behind the doors, there were two of us.

Your words were a song

And I tried to sing, too,

But agony encircled the lips of spring.

And like the swallow, your words took wing,

The door of our home and the autumnal threshold migrated,

To follow you wherever led by longing

Our mirrors were shattered,

And sorrow was multiplied a thousand fold.

And we gathered the splinters of sound,

Mastering only the elegy of our homeland!

Together were will plant it in the heart of a lyre,

And on the rooftops of our tragedy we’ll play it

To mutilated moons and to stones.

But I have forgotten, you of the unknown voice:

Was it your departure that rushed the lyre or was it my silence?

Yesterday I saw you in the port,

A long voyager without provisions,

Like an orphan I ran to you,

Asking the wisdom of our forefathers:

How can the ever-verdant orange grove be dragged

To prison, to exile, to a port,

And despite all her travels,

Despite the scent of salt and longing,

Remain evergreen?

I write in my diary:

I love oranges and hate the port

And I write further:

On the dock

I stood, and saw the world through Witter’s eyes

Only the orange peel is ours, and behind me lay the desert.

In the briar-covered mountains I saw you,

A shepherdess without sheep,

Pursued among the ruins.

You were my garden, and I a stranger,

Knocking at the door, my heart,

For upon my heart stand firm

The door and windows, the cement and stones.

I have seen you in casks of water, in granaries,

Broken, I have seen you a maid in night clubs,

I have seen you in the gleam of tears and in wounds.

You are the other lung in my chest;

You are the sound on my lips;

You are water; you are fire.

I saw you at the mouth of the cave, at the cavern,

Hanging your orphans’ rags on the wash line.

In the stoves, in the streets I have seen you.

In the barns and in the sun’s blood.

In the songs of the orphaned and the wretched I have seen you.

I have seen you in the salt of the sea and in the sand.

Yours was the beauty of the earth, of children and of Arabian jasmine.

And I have vowed

To fashion from my eyelashes a kerchief,

And upon it to embroider verses for your eyes,

And a name, when watered by a heart that dissolves in chanting,

Will make the sylvan arbours grow.

I shall write a phrase more precious than honey and kisses:

‘Palestinian she was and still is’.

On a night of storms, I opened the door and the window

To see the hardened moon of our nights.

I said to the night: Run out,

Beyond the darkness and the wall;

I have a promise to keep with words and light.

You are my virgin garden

As long as our songs

Are swords when we draw them.

And you are as faithful as grain

So long as our songs

Keep alive the fertile soil when we plant them.

You are like a palm tree in the mind:

Neither storm nor woodsman’s ax can fell it.

Its braids uncut

By the beasts of desert and forest

But I am the exiled one behind wall and door,

Shelter me in the warmth of your gaze.

Take me, wherever you are,

Take me, however you are.

To be restored to the warmth of face and body,

To the light of heart and eye,

To the salt of bread and song,

To the taste of earth and homeland.

Shelter me in the warmth of your gaze,

Take me, a panel of almond wood, in the cottage of sorrows,

Take me, a verse from the book of my tragedy,

Take me, a plaything or a stone from the house,

So that our next generation may recall

The path of return to our home.

Her eyes and the tattoo on her hands are Palestinian,

Her name, Palestinian,

Her dreams, and sorrow, Palestinian,

Her Kerchief, her feet and body, Palestinian,

Her words and her silence, Palestinian,

Her voice, Palestinian,

Her birth and her death, Palestinian,

I have carried you in my old notebooks

As the fire of my verses,

The sustenance for my journeys.

In your name, my voice rang in the valleys:

I have seen Byzantium’s horses

Even though the battle be different.

Beware, oh beware

The lightning struck by my song in the granite.

I am the flower of youth and the knight of knights!

I am the smasher of idols.

I plant the Levantine borders

With poems that set eagles free.

And in your name I have shouted at the enemy:

Worms, feed on my flesh if ever I slumber,

For the eggs of ants cannot hatch eagles,

And the shell of the adder’s egg

Holds but a snake!

I have seen Byzantium’s horses,

And before it all, I know

That I am the flower of youth and the knight of knights!"

#mahmoud darwish #palestinian poetry #palestinian art #palestine #free palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

[meticulous-tendencies]

fuck yeah actually hitting my protein and calorie goals. no workout today, but feels good to at least have my intake under control. and the rest did wonders for my hip tbh. i’ll take the wins when i can lol

#food diary #food logging #photo diary #fitblr #weight gain #food log #bulking #weightloss #mfp #myfitnesspal #calorie tracking #calories #orange #blood orange #iron pills #vitamin c #sunday #food #fruit #iron absorption #anemic #food goals #calorie tracker #calorie target

[academicinireland]

Current Journal Lineup

Yellow Hobonichi Weeks Mega: general planning, meal planning, exercise and mood tracker, to-do lists.

Purple A6 Leuchtturm1917 Square/Grid: Food and blood sugar tracker. I also track my carbs and protein (related to blood sugar levels).

Green Large Moleskine Lined, Softcover: dear-diary type journaling, gratitude, memory keeping and some light junk-journaling.

Orange B5 Leuchtturm1917 dotted: Commonplace book.

I have no brand loyalty.

PS my bed is covered in dog hair I’m not sorry about it.

#journal #journaling #hobonichi #hobonichi weeks #moleskine #leuchtturm1917 #commonplace #commonplacing #notebook #own post #own image

[tillxthexearthxstartsxtoxcrumble]

Finished Percy Jackson and The Olympians show? Wondering what to do next? Read the books!

Key: red= Main series, blue= Graphic Novel, green= side book, purple= Side series (Percy is side character or not there), orange= not exactly side series not exactly main series

In chronological order the main series goes:

The Lightning Thief (What the show was based on!)

Sea Of Monsters

The Titans Curse

Battle Of The Labyrinth

The Last Olympian

The Lightning Thief: Graphic Novel

The Sea Of Monsters: Graphic Novel

The Titan's Curse: Graphic Novel

The Battle Of The Labyrinth: The Graphic Novel

The Last Olympian: The Graphic Novel

The Demigod Files

The Ultimate Guide

Percy Jackson's Greek Gods

Percy Jackson's Greek Heroes

Kane Chronicles: The Red Pyramid

Kane Chronicles: The Throne Of Fire

Kane Chronicles: The Serpent's Shadow

The Red Pyramid: Graphic Novel

The Throne Of Fire: Graphic Novel

The Serpent's Shadow: The Graphic Novel

Demigods & Magicians

Brooklyn House Of Magician's Manual

Kane Chronicles Survival Guide

The Lost Hero

The Son Of Neptune

The Mark Of Athena

The House Of Hades

The Blood Of Olympus

The Lost Hero: Graphic Novel

The Son Of Neptune: Graphic Novel

The Mark Of Athena: Graphic Novel

The House Of Hades: Graphic Novel

The Blood Of Olympus: Graphic Novel

The Demigod Diaries

Camp Half Blood Confidential

Camp Jupiter Classified

Magnus Chase: Sword Of Summer

The Hammer Of Thor

The Ship Of The Dead

Hotel Valhalla Guide To The Norse World

The Hidden Oracle

The Dark Prophecy

The Burning Maze

The Tyrant's Tomb

The Tower Of Nero

Chalice Of The Gods

The Sun and The Star

Wrath Of The Triple Goddess (coming out Sep. 24, 2024)

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #magnus chase #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #trials of apollo #toa #apollo #nico di angelo #will solace #sun and the star #the sun and the star #the kane chronicles #heroes of olympus #hoo #book series

[saintarmand]

...huh. probably nothing but could be some kind of thematic link between these scenes? 2 more months until we find out so why not speculate wildly!

placing daniel in lestat's position as the "patriarch" seems a bit odd since he's definitely not exerting any control over louis and armand, but it could imply, for example, that he's trying to be in control of the interview and louis and armand are going along for now while planning something else.

louis is in claudia's spot and armand in louis's, unless rashid is meant to parallel the salesman in which case their positions would be mirrored? armand as the quiet plotter like claudia certainly seems to make more sense than louis.

some ideas of what could be going on:

discussion of how vampires can be killed, or their powers relative to their makers (related to revenants maybe? one of claudia's eastern europe diaries are on the table)

loumand talking telepathically, one of them plotting but not letting the other one in on the plan yet

daniel thinks he's winning but he's actually like the "deer come up the trail"

discussion of knowledge as infinite and ever-changing, impossible to gather it all in one place

if rashid mirrors the salesman, he has to "provide" for all three, honey and pineapples orange juice/cocktail for daniel and blood for louis and armand (although there's no blood in sight and daniel seems to have rejected the drink offered)

daniel now has "ever present paranoia"

the three of them are merely "enduring, with little pretense of getting along, locked together in hatred"

any other ideas? let me know!

for reference, the dialogue/narration in the scene from 1x07 under the cut:

Daniel: So, question. Can an immortal meet mortality? Louis: Technically, yes. Daniel: How? Louis (voiceover): Several ways. Starvation. Deny the body the blood. Conversely, drink the blood of the dead. He told me as much my first night reborn. Then, there's fire. Consume the body with fire and it can house no spirit. Decapitation. He confided that to me one blood-drunken night in Baton Rouge. Theoretically, it can be done. But could it be done by us to him? Could the children murder the father? He was stronger than us, quicker than us, in possession of ancient powers that had been passed on to his progeny only in a diminished form. Add to the toxic air a new ever-present paranoia, and now, you are with us. We were compelled to sleep in the same chamber together again. He would have it no other way. We would spend our hours enduring, with little pretense of getting along, locked together in hatred. He would have it no other way. Our only opportunity to plot would be telepathically. And Claudia, for reasons she would not yet divulge, used our advantage sparingly. Lestat: Knowledge is the ocean's edge. I mean, to think it could somehow be gathered by a mere 20 volumes. Louis (voiceover): But make no mistake, Claudia was plotting, quiet in her deer blind. Lestat: A relic before it's even gone to the print shop. Aww. There's three of us you must provide for tonight. Louis: I've had my fill. Lestat: Louis's never honored the blood as he should. Blame the teacher, not the student. Louis (voiceover): Lestat de Lioncourt. 179 years in the Savage Garden. 148 years the blood-drinker, the bringer of death… the deer come up the trail. Lestat: Another approaches.

#vampterview #iwtv #iwtv s2 #interview with the vampire #dubai #s

[that-fruitier-emo]

|| TFE/Vic's OC Master Post || Part 1 || Characters ||

Edwyn Percius Vanhaggen

[Green eyes, he/him pronouns]

He does have top surgery scars

He prefers to wear videogame graphic tshirts, and hoodies (hoodies are either orange or magenta)

Whenever he wears button down or polo shirts he never buttons the top two buttons

He usually wears navy blue or black jeans that have tears in the kneecaps

His left wrist is covered in friendship bracelets

Wears crystal necklaces of multiple colors

Black converse style shoes with stage blood spatters on the tips

His sleep wear is a "My chemical romance" t-shirt and boxers

He dyes his hair brown to match Archer and Julie halfway though book 2

Absolutely fucking skinny

Changes his last name to Broadren after his 18th birthday

Cedric Gordon Vanhaggen

[Blue eyes, he/they pronouns]

Usually wears darker colored band tees

Navy blue zip-up hoodies

Likes wearing chokers of all kinds

Interchanges between back fingerless gloves and black and white striped fingerless gloves

Nail polish is either jet black, or deep red

Always wears either navy blue ripped jeans, or dark grey sweat pants

Black high top shoes with pen doodles on the tip and sides

His sleep wear is just his street clothes

Multiple ear piercings

Archer Alexander Broadren

[Brown eyes, he/him pronouns]

He usually enjoys wearing more natural/neutral colors (greys, greens, dull blues, yellows, browns and blacks)

His style normally looks like the other picture above

Always wears a grey tank top underneath his t-shirts

Will layer t-shirts over long sleeve shirts

Likes to wear jeans without holes

Knee socks, usually cartoon themed

Wears sort of rusty looking necklaces

Wears a lot of beaded bracelets

Brown converse

Darker freckles

Acne mostly just on his face

Way more phisicaly fit than Edwyn

Long legs

Sleep wear is a black tank top and basketball shorts

Julie (Juliette) Genevieve Broadren

[Brown eyes, she/her pronouns]

Most of her jewelry is fruit themed

Her makeup inspiration is mostly drag queens, but her daily makeup is much more tame

Likes to wear rings

Makes her own jewelry

Likes wearing baggier clothes for casual wear

Despite dressing mainly for comfort, she's never apposed to getting dolled up

Same darkish freckles as Archer, just with clearer skin with less noticable acne

A lot of her t-shirts are themed after boy bands, or male celebrities she likes

Lights blue zip-up hoodies

Detests flannels, she thinks they look unflattering on her

She usually wears light blue men's jeans because she believes in pockets

When she's not wearing full jeans, she's wearing shorter jean shorts with patterned leggings underneath

She wears black converse, and ankle socks

Occasionally she wears ankle bracelets, and a fake nose ring

Likes painting her nails more pastel colors

If she knows she's going to be taking a photo she puts a small amount of glitter on her face to make her cheeks sparkle

Likes to wear headbands on specific occasions

Every once in a while will wear a flower crown

@todds-diary @thatdumbgoth

#tfe rambles #noodles talks #oc content #{edwyn} #{cedric} #{archer} #{julie} #tfe writes #noodles writes

[acotars]

books read in 2023

january

sweep in peace by ilona andrews

one fell sweep by ilona andrews

a court of mist and fury by sarah j. maas

sweep of the blade by ilona andrews

sweep with me by ilona andrews

my best friend’s exorcism by grady hendrix

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

i’m glad my mom died by jennette mccurdy

love and other words by christina lauren

sweep of the heart by ilona andrews

the only living girl on earth by charles yu

witches get stuff done by molly harper

you had me at hola by alexis daria

her vigilante by lillian lark

inconvenient daughter by lauren j. sharkey

anon pls. by deuxmoi

you are eating an orange. you are naked. by sheung-king

legends & lattes by travis baldree

bad vibes only (and other things i bring to the table) by nora mcinerny

signs of cupidity by raven kennedy

bonds of cupidity by raven kennedy

crimes of cupidity by raven kennedy

read: 23

february

exciting times by naoise dolan

sweethand by n.g. peltier

you made a fool of death with your beauty by akwaeke emezi

something wilder by christina lauren

highly suspicious and unfairly cute by talia hibbert

you deserve each other by sarah hogle

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max goldstone

would you rather by allison ashley

read: 8

march

meet me in the margins by melissa ferguson

king of battle and blood by scarlett st. clair

the exotic by hampton sides

river of shadows by karina halle

alone with you in the ether by olivie blake

lovelight farms by b.k. borison

the soulmate equation by christina lauren

before i let go by kennedy ryan

haunting adeline by h.d. carlson

the lies i tell by julie clark

one jump at a time by nathan chen

our wives under the sea by julia armfield

all systems red (the murderbot diaries #1) by martha wells

before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi

read: 14

april

funny you should ask by elissa sussman

make a scene by mimi grace

sweeter than chocolate by lizzie shane

the kiss quotient by helen hoang

my favorite half-night stand by christina lauren

romantic comedy by curtis sittenfeld

icebreaker by a.l. graziadei

the wedding proposal by john swansiger

circling back to you by julie tieu

by the book by amanda sellet

a lady’s guide to mischief and mayhem by manda collins

love in the time of serial killers by alicia thompson

if the shoe fits by julie murphy

whispers of you by catherine cowles

the kiss curse by erin sterling

by the book by jasmine guillory

honey & spice by bolu babalola

one night on the island by josie silver

the bodyguard by katherine center

the reunion by kayla olson

the neighbor favor by kristina forest

crooked kingdom by leigh bardugo

do i know you? by emily wibberley & austin siegemund-broka

just my type by falon ballard

delilah green doesn’t care by ashley herring blake

happy place by emily henry

dating dr. dil by nisha sharma

icebreaker by hannah grace

count your lucky stars by alexandria bellefleur

stone cold fox by rachel koller croft 

fake it till you bake it by jamie wesley

read: 31

may

the dead romantics

motherthing by ainslie hogarth

the woman in the library by sulari gentill

artificial condition (the murderbot diaries #2) by martha wells

the last word by taylor adams

you shouldn’t have come here by jeneva rose

read: 6

june

fourth wing (the empyrean #1) by rebecca yarros

the very secret society of irregular witches by sangu mandanna

love, theoretically by ali hazelwood

read: 3

july

the traitor queen (the bridge kingdom #2) by danielle l. jensen

the beast by katee robert

baldur's gate: descent into avernus by by james introcaso et. al

forget me not by julie soto

the wishing game by meg shaffer

read: 5

august

the true love experiment by christina lauren

pachinko by min jin lee

almond by sohn won-pyung, translated by joosun lee

hook, line, and sinker by tessa bailey

read: 4

september

hey, u up? (for a serious relationship): how to turn your booty call into your emergency contact by emily axford & brian murphy

everyone knows your mother is a witch by rivka galchen

fangs by sarah andersen

a room with a view by e.m. forster

juniper bean resorts to murder by gracie ruth mitchell

one's company by ashley hutson

the mysterious affair at styles by agatha christie

solita: a gothic romance by vivien rainn

you, again by kate goldbeck

the undertaking of hart and mercy by megan bannen

my roommate is a vampire by jenna levine

the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde

the vampires of el norte by isabel cañas

her body and other parties by carmen maria machado

evil eye by etaf rum

the seven year slip by ashley poston

read: 17

october

keeper of enchanted rooms by charlie n. holmberg

the serpent and the wings of night by carissa broadbent

shy by max porter

down comes the night by allison saft

the unfortunate side effects of heartbreak and magic by breanne randall

the hurricane wars by thea guanzon

read: 6

november

a witch's guide to fake dating a demon by sarah hawley

the wake-up call by beth o'leary

when in rome by sarah adams

the view was exhausting by mikaella clements and onjuli datta

hello stranger by katherine center

practice makes perfect by sarah adams

do your worst by rosie danan

read: 7

december

bookshops & bonedust by travis baldree

the fake mate by lana ferguson

read: 2

final count: 127/100

#kate’s reading log #read in 2023* #a little late but i wanted to get this up here !! #i’ll update as i go so if you don’t want to see this just blacklist kate’s reading log :) #we hit character limit so i had to reformat lol

[julie-su]

Lori-Ki's in @sonic-oc-showdown ! Last time, we all did a short Q&A - @bunnymajo asked if we're doing it again this year, and I said - OMG, YES!

VOTE HERE

Lori-Ki is a once-great, now minimum-wage odd-jobs worker on the ground floor of the Dark Egg Legion, doing dirty jobs as-and-when commanded. This is the bane of her existence, having been a once-legendary sniper. When Enerjak Knuckles tormented the Dark Legion, she was part of the surviving echidnas to lose her cybernetics, having run-of-the-mill cybernetics installed when Dimitri joined the Dark Legion with Eggman's forces.

In her past life, she had a cybernetic eye, and hearing which was unparalleled. She was a powerhouse; now reduced to a regular echidna with titanium legs, and a ridiculous multitool installed into her hands.

Questionairre below the cut;

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name? Lori-Ki initially had a much more colourful colourscheme, of blues, oranges, and greens! She was named for the bird; the Lorikeet! Of course, the hyphonated name comes with the territory of being an Archie echidna.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range) Lori-Ki is 26 years old.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)? She likes to think that she has a long-con love/hate thing going on with Eggman, that he is madly in love with her. She has this elaborate plot of how exactly she is going to turn him down, she's got a wedding planner diary for it. He has no idea who she is, and could not tell her apart from the next Legionnaire.

🍕 - What is their favorite food? Lori-Ki enjoys a good coconut. Not USUALLY wrestled from a chao which found itself floating through the Twilight Zone, but ..

💼 - What do they do for a living? Lori-Ki does odd jobs for the Dark Egg Legion; the combined forces of the Dark Legion's might, with Eggman's technological know-how. She finds this an insult, given that before her cybernetics were stripped, she had been a highly competent and high-ranking sniper for the Legion. She had once sported an impressive cybernetic eye, and unparalleled enhanced hearing; after Enerjak wiped her circuits for flesh and blood, she found herself subject to the mass-producing legionisation under Eggman's command, which gave her standard cybernetics; robotic legs, and an embarrassingly goofy mutli-tool between her left thumb and pinkie.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies? She likes to make electronic music with Trearddur. She sits and gives her thoughts and opinions whilst he mixes it, occasionally offering vocals and new sounds for the recordings. Sometimes, she'll play a little music to add to the mix.

🎯 -What do they do best? Vindication! She used to be an incredible shot; since Enerjak removed her cybernetics, she had been trying to get them restored; Eggman wanted nothing to do with such a thing, barely even noticing her presence. This spurred into a vindicative obession...

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do? She loves being paired up with Trearddur, and getting work done. They're thick as thieves, and used to be an incredibly efficient powerhouse duo in making the Legion run smoothly. This was a major source of pride. Anything she can do that makes things easier for everybody makes her happy.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories? Meeting Trearddur! They had met in their early 20's both grabbing a drink, and had become thick as thieves in an instant. Discovering that they were both on security, they fast became nigh inseperable, even their cybernetics slotting hand-in-hand.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories? Being held at the mercy of Enerjak Knuckles was an incredibly traumatic event for Lori-Ki. The sheer power on show was terrifying; to be stripped of her cybernetics which were very much a part of her person was like losing a part of herself. Losing the abilities she previously had was incredibly debilitating for her; to have them replaced with unsuitable robotic parts was life-changing in the worst way.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one? Sort of! Yesn't. I tend to go through a design process over a few days, when working on OC's. I will create a few variations, and refine it from there.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC? We were messing around in Sonic Projector RP, a Sonic fangame - we decided to go with the Dark Egg Legion, to mix things up a little. After messing around in Press Gardens crushing crates for rings, we fell in love with the idea of echidnas who were once great, now doing odd dirty jobs for Eggman.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in? Science Fantasy, and something about an allegorical hatred for the British Government's poor dealings with disabled people. (oh, you didn't get that subtext? ... Look, look with your special eyes?)

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality? Lori-Ki is 'maybe a girl, iunno' who is openly bisexual.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have? None! Lori-Ki is an only child.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like? She doesn't much know her parents; it's not unheard of in the Dark Legion - the Twilight Zone was unforgiving and harsh, and many children grew up in foster care.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC? She is fantastic to roleplay as! Her combative wit and short temper which fades away to a 'NO JK JK JK LOLOLOL I heart your fucking makeup oh my god I love your hair' -- She's all of the passive agressiveness I dropped when I stopped being a scene teen. Gawd. HORRIBLE person to be around, but I LOVE her.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC? About once a month, at least. Mostly, we RP and LARP as her; that happens much more often. We'll brainstorm her quite often!

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC? Her death would be reeeeally drab, symbolically; I'd prefer not to.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias? She is terrified of overestimating her abilities; her brain has not quite caught up with the fact that she isn't as able as she was with her old cybernetics. She oft finds herself in sticky situations due to overestimating her sight and hearing, still learning her new limitations.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival? She thinks that it's Eggman. He's never even heard of her.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC? Wooh, only a year by now!

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC? 23!

#Sonic OC Showdown #lori-ki the echidna #archie sonic OC