#have fun deciphering my handwriting

[otiksimr]

Teethers

#101 crappy biology #my art #wof #wings of fire #wof fanart #hivewing #silkwing #leafwing #nightwing #mudwing #icewing #seawing #sandwing #rainwing #skywing #That should be all of them #have fun deciphering my handwriting

[vettelsbitch]

F1BLR WRITING CHALLENGE!

Got tagged by the lovely @umflowers and @nekorosberg

Did this at 3am a pen that was clearly dying, enjoy my horrible handwriting!

1. What is your URL?

2. Who are your favorite drivers? What are their numbers?

3. Write out a fandom hot take you have

4. Make a prediction for next season

5. If your native language isn't English, write a fun fact about yourself in it

6. Write something nice about another person in F1blr

7. Tag at least 4 people (can't do, my pen died)

#tag game #god my handwriting is fucked up! #have fun trying ro decipher this

[hauntedwoman]

✒️ hii maggie

#have fun deciphering this my handwriting has been so inconsistent lately djdhdh

[alelelesimz]

here are my favorite things i did this year :) thank you for tagging me @madeofcc <3

i was just gonna make a simple post and for some reason i decided to make this whole thing i guess, even features my stupid handwriting lol. everything written above + some more thoughts down below so you don't have to decipher whatever i wrote, also links to everything. thanks for following my messy blog and allowing me to rant about splatoon every other day lmao love u friends

harmony my beloved

i love splatoon ok! i've tried to recreate a few different splatoon characters before but they don't really translate well to sims. however i love how my harmony turned out! she's my fav character in the game and i'm quite proud of this funky little edit :)

leaf carrying a plant she stole

as soon as i saw that pose i knew i had to use it with my girl leaf! simple edit, but very cute <3 i wanna post more about my nymph!!!!!

what is this? a crossover episode????????

bojack horseman is my fav show ever. when i saw the horse pack trailer i KNEW i had to make this silly joke :p i didn't expect it to get so much attention but i'm glad it did! fun facts: 1) i painted bojack's face in game but basically redid the whole thing in photoshop bc sims textures are uh bad. 2) i recolored pc's dress and god i wish i could've made something better lmao. 3) i converted mr. pb's glasses and i SUFFERED. they actually look terrible ingame but ✨photoshop magic✨

this edit of an alien oc that i need to name still

i don't really use alpha hairs but ain't this one cute?! and i love this edit! if you read this give me a name suggestion for this sim please

YES THAT'S HAPPENING

I LOVE JUNO BIRCH!!! i literally need to stop myself from making another juno post every time she posts anything online lol. but that hot dog costume is iconic, what can i say.

sims in the city, baby + everything i made about them

i've been wanting to recreate these guys ever since i joined simblr back in 2019 (jesus christ) and i finally did! i'm very proud of them and happy so many people like them :) i loved this game growing up but none of my friends played it, so it's really cool to see more people who played it too!

also, that roxanna moxie lookbook i did? peak fashion

GRAP3FRUIT!

these guys!!!!!!!!! i really wanted to make a silly little band since forever and kari's edgewave fest finally pushed me to make them and I LOVE THEM! i can't wait to keep making more stuff with them babyyyyyyyyaskldjalskhdfklasj

#i'm gonna tag all of this arent i #ts4 #ts4 edit #simblr #sims 4 #tag game #a

[marscantread7]

Mammon genuinely can't write😭😭😭

If you asked Mammon to read something he wrote, he could read it perfectly with no mistakes. If you asked someone else to read something Mammon wrote😨😨😨 they'll end up in tears because they can't even make it it passed the first word. Or if it's one of his brothers💀💀💀 they'll look at you like you're insane and tell you to "Get lost and read it yourself. What do you think I am? Some kind of fool?"

Mammon doesn't understand why nobody else can read his handwriting! It looks perfectly fine to him. His brothers berate and make fun of him for it all the time, and he'll sit there all like, "My handwriting is perfectly fine!" "Like yours is any better." "Give me a break! At least my school work is getting done, ugh!"

Lucifer remembers the time he put a texting and social media ban on his brothers and they each wrote him multiple letters as a petition to lift the ban. When he got to Mammon's letter, it took him so long to decipher the singular, "Sorry." On the page, and even longer to decipher all the hidden curses written in invisible ink. He had to hire a with to assist him in figuring out what it said.

Mammon tries to fix his handwriting for the better, but it just never works out! If he wants to write neater, he has to write slower than usual, and it never works out. All his professors have to get witches to translate Mammon's written assignments, and it's gotten to the point where they force him to do all his work on the computer. Satan tried giving Mammon writing lessons, but when he realized how bad Mammon's handwriting really was he called him a lost cause and left.

Mammon really doesn't see the issue with his handwriting. He can read it just fine! "Of course you can read it dumbass. It's your own handwriting!" And Mammon will raise his hand and tut at his dear brother. "Wrong! There's some people out there who can't read their own handwriting. If I can read it, it can't possibly be that bad." Everyone will just groan and roll their eyes, and Lucifer will tell Mammon to, "Shut up and eat your food." Mammon will sigh himself and mutter something about his brothers being sourpusses to which they all respond with a glare in his direction.

Mammon doesn't let his horrible handwriting deter him from anything in life. He still scams- I mean🤒🤒🤒 he still gets money in very legal, safe, and sane ways and that's all that matters. Until his handwriting starts affecting his money, he thinks he'll keep it the way it is for now.

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me boys #mammon can't write to save his life #get your money up not your funny up #that's mammon's motto #lucifer is so done with mammon #satan doesnt understand how anyone's handwriting can be this bad #marshall cant write

[charliespringsleftconverse]

Kiss Me Again

Word Count: 8,645 | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Writer’s Notes: I was going to have a friend proof this for me but they were busy so I did some multiple self-revisions in the past few days in hopes that I caught as many grammar errors as possible. Apologies if I missed any! Anyway! This is a college AU ACOTAR Feysand fic. The concept was idiots in love. As in, they’ve baaaasically been doing couply stuff but they were too blind to see or acknowledge that they’d been in love and acting as a couple for a while. <3 

I don’t typically write AU fics, so this is a first for me! That being said, it was so much fun to write. It’s actually the longest one-shot I’ve written! A HUGE Happy Holidays to @thegloweringcastle <3 I hope you enjoy it and finally find out who got left at the supermarket! 😂

Thank you to @acotargiftexchange for putting this event together once again! I LOVE participating in this every year! <3

Squinting at the scribbles below, my eyes attempted to decipher the notes I’d borrowed. I had been able to make out the date thanks to the simple fact that it hadn’t been written in cursive like the rest of the details. It was a lost art form for me just like any other calligraphy-related configuration. I would have written down my own notes for the humanities course I was taking, in plain print, had my younger sister not lost the key to her dorm room. With her roommate out of town for the week, there wasn’t much Elain could have done outside of calling her Resident Assistant, which, to her dismay, also happened to be her ex-boyfriend. So, rather than having to face Grayson more than she needed to, she’d called me. 

Lucky for Elain, I kept a spare. All of my sisters and I did, actually. Nesta, Elain, and I all had a key to each other’s place. It had been especially helpful when we all lived on campus last year. We could just walk into each other’s rooms at any time. Like when I needed help with my homework for Calculus with Analytic Geometry and borrowed Nesta’s notes from her sophomore year. Or when Nesta needed to borrow my curling iron for a date. And, of course, how could I forget the night that Elain and her then-boyfriend broke up. She had refused to leave her room for two days. I had never been so grateful to have access to a spare key. Nesta and I had been so worried having not heard from her for more than a day. We spent that entire weekend taking turns bringing her food from her favorite places across town in hopes that they’d brighten her spirits. Thai food from Adriata’s Palace, Italian Cuisine from Neve’s Garden, and Mexican from Rita’s Margaritas. I had never seen my sister so devastated in her life. Although to be fair, Elain had never dated a boy before Grayson. 

I turned the notebook a bit to the side in hopes that the lighting from the new angle would bless me with a hint as to what words hid behind Mor’s beautiful script. Mother above. Shaking my head, I bit my lip. I should have listened to my mother when she said that learning cursive would be an invaluable skill. She was certainly right in thinking that it was a dying skill. It was dead on me for sure. Hell, the only people I knew who still wrote in cursive were sorority recruitment leads when they made their colorful, extravagant banners with fancy lettering and doctors. Which would make sense at the moment given who I had borrowed these notes from. Zeta Tau Alpha’s latest Chapter President. My mother was certainly wagging her finger at me from wherever she was. 

I sighed.

“You look more concentrated than my morning orange juice,” said Rhysand, sitting across the table. His violet eyes studying me, his brows raised in concern. We’d—he’d been studying for the past thirty minutes, meanwhile, I’d just been heavy-breathing and decoding what looked like a cipher like a treasure hunter in search of the coordinates to an ancient Greek secret temple. But unlike an archeologist, my work proved unfruitful.

“I’m trying to decipher Mor’s handwriting,” I said. Leaning back on the chair, I let out another loud sigh. “It’s beautiful. But I can’t read cursive for shit.”

Rhys and I had known each other since freshman year. More specifically, ever since I accidentally dropped a shoe on him from the fourth floor of the residence halls. I had originally been aiming for my roommate Viviane to catch, who to this day still wanted to room with me. She hadn’t wanted to come up again to retrieve the missing shoe and I didn’t want to go downstairs in a towel as I’d just come out of the shower and was still undressed. 

The natural decision was to just fling the sneaker out the window of our dorm room, obviously. What we didn’t account for was my terrible aim and Viviane’s lack of hand-eye coordination. Not only did Rhys get bumped in the head by a single white platform Vans but he also got pushed into a bush by Viviane. She had been so busy looking up, that she forgot to look forward and completely missed the 6-foot man inches from her. It had been a miracle Viviane herself hadn’t impaled the shrubbery along with him. I’ll never forget the mortified look Viviane and I mirrored, eyes wide and hands over mouth. All I could think was, he’s concussed. I concussed a man. 

Personally, if someone had smacked me on the head, I would have at least yelled at them. Maybe even called them a prick. Rhys, however, was a different breed of man. He had certainly groaned on impact but as soon as he realized he had backflipped into a small hedge and held a women’s size 8 shoe on his lap, he laughed. He let out a full belly laugh. This man—this stranger—had the audacity to laugh given the circumstances. I suppose I should have realized from that moment that nothing could truly take him by surprise or upend his day. A trait I admired. One I hoped seeped into my bones by osmosis or whatever symbiotic science allows personal characteristics to flow from one person to another. 

I apologized profusely to this man. In a towel from my window. In my pajamas after I ran downstairs. In his residence hall, after Viviane helped me put together an apology basket when we discovered he lived across from her boyfriend Kallias. Even then, this 6-foot-something of a man thought it was funny. Every. Single. Time. To which I convinced myself, I’d more than concussed him. I convinced myself I’d done serious damage for a man to laugh at that level of pain. Although, I suppose that if two people showed up in their dinosaur onesies at 9 pm on a Thursday evening with a basket for me, I’d also laugh. But still.

It wasn’t until that very week that I realized Rhys and I shared similar classes. We were both in English Composition, Principles of Chemistry, and Introduction to Sociology. Which, quite honestly, are more than enough courses for you to figure out if you have the same schedule as another student. What can I say, I’m oblivious—an ongoing theme in my life.

Another thing I’ll never forget, the smug look on Rhys’s face when we were paired together in English Composition for a research paper on the portrayal of minorities in the media. I’d wanted to find the nearest cliff and jump off it but destiny had other plans. No, fate looked me straight in the eye and said, “Hold my drink, bestie” because two years later, here we are. Best friends. 

Rhysand snatched the paper out of my hands. “The Gate of Athena Archegetis was dedicated to the patron goddess of Athens, Athena.” 

My hand rushed to jot down what he said. The table vibrated from the ferocity with which I scribbled on my notebook. What I couldn’t crack in thirty minutes took Rhys all of two seconds to read out. Why our professor for that course didn’t allow laptops or tablets for note taking, I’ll never understand. I was just grateful I had something legible transcribed now.

“You can read that? It might as well have been written entirely in Latin,” I said.

“I’ve had practice reading my cousin's handwriting for years. I’d be disappointed if I couldn’t, at this point.” Rhysand chuckled. Passing the page, he eyed the notes, likely reviewing the contents from the course he’d taken himself the semester before. 

“I, unfortunately, was blessed with my father’s handwriting.” I tugged at the sleeves of my V-neck indigo cardigan and shyly pointed at my hideous penmanship. It might as well have been written by a third-grader. It was practically childlike. There wasn’t much fixing that could be done at this point in my life when it came to my writing unless I signed up for a calligraphy course. And even then, life had no guarantees.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. An art major who couldn’t read or write a visual art form. Who could paint true-to-life full-body portraits, vivid illustrations of natural landscapes, and dramatic high-colored oil paintings but couldn’t read or write in cursive. I dropped my shoulders, frustrated with myself, and propped my legs up on the tufted dining chair pulling them against my chest with my arms wrapped around. 

Rhys’s eyes were back on me. He had a way of reading me like a billboard sign, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what was going on through my mind, what today’s bold neon letters were. I was never sure how he did it but he always knew exactly what I was thinking. Which either meant my face was easy to read and I had the worst poker face of all time or…he just knew me. 

“The ‘A’ in cursive is not a sharp letter. It’s more rounded and looks the exact same in both upper and lowercase. Similar to the way you’d write it in print,” he said.

There were several traits I admired about Rhys outside of his keen observations and nonchalant perspective on life. Like his level of empathy. I knew what his academic grades looked like but boy did I also want to know what his emotional quotient score was. Whatever it was, that score was certainly high. He never made anyone feel like their shortfalls were a hindrance. Nor would he want to. That wasn’t his style. Rather than point out my flaws and make me feel embarrassed, he read the notes aloud. 

“The Greek language served as a lingua franca,” he continued.

“That last phrase was actual Latin,” he added. Rhys flipped through the pages of Mor’s notes. I could have asked him for his own from last semester since he’d been able to sign up on time. I, on the other hand, had been wait-listed. Hence why I was taking the course in the spring. It was one of the few classes we all needed to graduate as it was one of the general requirements for all offered degrees. I probably should have asked him for his notes since I could his penmanship but I’d been too caught up with Elain yesterday to even consider asking.

“Here’s another one, in vino veritas,” said Mor, raising two bottles of wine toward us. “In wine there is truth.”

“Amen,” said Cassian, lifting a third bottle. 

“I thought you two went out grocery shopping,” said Rhysand. Laying the notes on the table, he crossed his arms eyeing the two figures by the door. The corner of Rhys’s mouth twitched as he raised an eyebrow at his cousin and roommate. 

“We did. We brought back the essentials,” said Mor. Smiling back at her cousin, she winked at him before closing the door to the apartment with a kick of her red platform heels. 

“Hmm,” Rhys hummed. 

Bringing his eyes back to me, Rhysand continued reading off the notes while the other two flocked into the kitchen. I bit the inside of my lip as I followed along the soothing sound of his voice. His warm tone always calmed me when we studied together. Which was why I was his favorite audience member when he needed to practice his presentations. I’d listen attentively, the first time. I’d even provide feedback, the second time. But I’d almost always fall asleep to the sound of his enchanting mellifluous voice any other time after that. 

“It’s wine night, Rhys. You know the rules,” said Mor from the other room. Every Friday was wine night, the one day of the week our friend group could get together with no interruptions or excuses. No one had an evening class on Fridays or a night shift so things worked out this semester. Most of the extracurriculars each of us participated in typically held events over the weekend so we’d truly lucked out with everyone’s schedules this time. It wasn’t something we were likely to have again so we were taking advantage of every Friday we had before some of us graduated. 

Though, that was one of the rules. No talks about graduation. The point of wine night was to live in the moment and enjoy however many Fridays we had left as the “Inner Circle.” It was a silly name Cassian spewed one night after downing 3 bottles of wine, and it kind of stuck. We didn’t exactly call our group that but we did change our group chat name accordingly. 

“You too, Feyre.” Mor’s voice echoed.

Another rule. No homework. That rule was more of a precaution so none of us would accidentally email professors the wrong file while inebriated. To be fair, I was only taking notes but we all tried to abide by the no homework rule as best as we could. 

“Give me a few minutes, and I’m all yours,” I said. 

“You’re telling me you’ve had all day to write those and you still haven’t?” asked Mor, her voice trailing from deeper in the apartment as she stepped from room to room. She had her apartment across town but, like me, she practically lived here too.

“Yeah, well…there have been some delays,” I said, fidgeting with my pencil. My face began to feel warm as blood rushed into my cheeks. Biting my lip, I kept my eyes down. I didn’t want to let Mor know that I hadn’t been able to write her notes because I couldn’t read her notes. Not that she would make fun of me for it but I knew that if I confessed the truth she’d barge me with questions. And I simply did not feel like answering any of that in front of everyone else. All I wanted was for something to distract her from prying right now. Just about anything would do. A pigeon flying in through the window. The fan in the living room mysteriously falling onto the table. A fire alarm. A knock on the door. Anything would do. Please. 

“Weren’t there three of you when you left?” asked Rhysand.

I felt my body relax, and my shoulders dropped. I hadn’t realized the muscles down my back had tightened and tensed so firmly until my body loosened and eased back into the chair. My eyes lifted, meeting Rhysand’s whose amethyst orbs were right on me. He winked. The man knew I’d been on the brink of jumping out a window and needed assistance to divert the tall blonde in the kitchen and I loved him for it. 

“Azriel!” said Cassian and Mor in unison. The sound of shoes running filled the kitchen accompanied by that of drawers shutting in a hurry, and the jingle of keys. The pair dashed around the apartment like parents who’d just forgotten their child at the supermarket, which was exactly what had happened. Somewhat.

A knock sounded at the door. 

The four of us froze and exchanged glances. The only thought I had in my mind was of Azriel, hoping he hadn’t walked all the way back here. Mor took slow steady steps towards the entrance and when she reached the doorknob, she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, took a deep breath, and pressed her lips together. Ever so delicately, she turned the knob and pulled the door towards her.

"Today was not my best day. I dare say it didn't even make the top five," said Azriel. He had one hand reaching the top of the doorframe, leaning slightly. His handsome face held no clear emotion but his eyes. His cold eyes stared down at Mor, making her smaller than she was. Oh, he is pissed.

“You left something at the grocery store,” said Nesta, pushing past the brooding body. Her heels clicked as she waltzed into the room wearing a black satin sleeveless dress that hugged her in all the right places from her chest to her hips. The slit on the right side exposed her up to her mid-thigh with every step. Cassian’s eyes immediately caught the movement as they slid up her body, stopping once they met her eyes.

“I would never have left you, Nes,” said Cassian. He took a step toward her, almost challenging her gaze. She held it, eyed him up and down sizing him up, and spun to face the rest of the room. With her back to him, she placed a hand on her hip, blatantly ignoring the door-framed-sized man behind her. 

Cassian stepped closer and slid his hands around her body, holding her closer. Nesta didn’t fight him. If I had blinked, I might have missed the slight shift of her body against him, leaning against his chest even closer. It was beyond anyone’s pay grade to understand where they stood in their relationship if it was even that. They’d been on and off for so long that their situationship was like the weather, something that had to be measured in every room. 

“I despise you,” said Nesta, with a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips.

“Keep telling yourself that,” said Cassian.

“Are you headed out tonight, Nesta?” I asked. 

“I only came to deliver the lost puppy,” said Nesta, taking a step forward and away from the figure wrapped around her. Cassian’s jaw ticked as she untangled herself from his embrace. “I’m headed out with the girls.”

Gwyn and Emerie, I thought. That’s who she almost always referred to. They’d been her closest friends since freshman year and they’d been inseparable from the moment they met. It was surprising that they hadn’t come up with her since they all lived together. 

“Gwyn’s downstairs waiting for me, and Emerie is already in the car,” she said. 

There it was. 

“You should take better care of pretty things,” said Nesta, walking towards the door. Elegantly spinning, her eyes met Cassian’s from beneath the doorframe. Her fingers slipped up her thigh to her waist sensually, her eyes never breaking contact as she spoke. “Someone else might steal them.”

She closed the door on her way out, leaving the rest of us too stunned to speak. 

“I’m gonna marry that woman,” said Cassian.

“Wine, anyone?” said Mor.

——

"I almost fist-fought you last night when you took the blanket," I said. Tugging on the dark blue throw-over, I pulled it over myself enough to cover my legs entirely as I sat criss crossed on the couch. The star-filled spread was dark and fluffy like Amren’s black Bombay cat. With three glasses of wine in me, if I closed my eyes and traced my hand down the blanket, I could almost picture Ruby on my lap. She was soft and cud—

A pull on the blanket brought my thoughts back.

“You snore. Loudly," said Rhys.

"I do not snore, you liar." I scoffed, tugging back on the blanket. 

We’d both fallen asleep on his bed last night after an intense studying session. Although our schedules were no longer as identical as they’d been during freshman year, we still shared one or two courses every so often. Like this semester, we had Solar System Astronomy together. We’d stayed up late on the balcony of his apartment looking up at the constellations seeing how many we could name and then placing their locations on a star map.

With 88 constellations in the sky, as recognized by the International Astronomical Union, we’d been able to spot at least seven. Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Orion, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Draco, and—my face was beginning to feel very warm. 

"How did the blanket end up on the floor? No wonder I was freezing," said Rhys. He was leaning against the backrest of the couch, one hand on the armrest holding his glass of wine. Rhysand’s dark lilac eyes sparked with mischief. He was baiting me and I was definitely too inebriated to ignore his comments. 

“How could you be freezing? You’re a freaking furnace!” I exclaimed. 

“Then why’d you steal the blanket? I’m basically primed for cuddles.” Rhys’s other hand reached around me and tugged me towards him. I laughed against his chest, and let my body lean into him. 

“Mother above, you two bicker like a married couple,” said Mor. She was leaning against the doorway leading to the balcony. With the door open, the cool breeze blew in, brushing her long golden hair past her shoulder. Her eyes darted between where Rhys and I sat on the couch and then shifted to something behind us. I was too focused on the elegant way she held her glass to glance away from her posture. 

“It’s not bickering if I’m right.” I slapped Rhys against his chest playfully. His chest vibrated with a chuckle.

“Az, play that one song from the other night,” said Amren. With her wine glass inches from her lips in one hand, she pointed at Azriel with her other. There was a lot you learned about a person while under the influence. In Amren’s case, during the day, she was a short-tempered finance major student who ate boys and numbers for breakfast. There was no doubt that she’d be valedictorian of the College of Business Administration. She studied hard, but she also played hard. 

“Thisssisss my jaaaaammm.” Amren’s words slurred. She raised one of her hands as if meaning to touch the ceiling lamp like a fly attracted to a zapper light. Swaying to the rhythm, Amren praised the white light above.

“Oh, she is gone,” said Mor, taking a sip of her wine.

All eyes were on Amren now as she led an interpretive dance to the beat of Dance the Night by Dua Lipa. Her choreography involved a lot of hands swaying in the air. While her claps to the music were slightly off-beat, she was giving it her all. She was the choreographer—the lead dancer. She was Barbie at the giant blow art party and the rest of us were just Ken.

“Here’s another piece of Latin for you, Feyre. Nemo saltat sobrius,” said Mor, nodding at Dance and Flex Barbie™.

“What?” I asked. Clumsily leaning forward, I propped one hand on Rhy’s thigh as I leaned closer to Mor in hopes I could read her lips over the music. I felt a hand steady me from behind. 

“Nobody dances sober,” said Azriel.

“Unless you’re Azriel, then you don’t dance. At all,” said Cassian. The couch bounced as he threw his body on the empty spot on the other side of me. He smiled at Azriel, threw his hand over the sofa's backrest, and leaned back.

“I’ve definitely seen him dance,” said Rhys. 

“No way. In his room?” Cassian chuckled.

I took this as an opportunity to make myself more comfortable, while they were distracted. Shifting my body, I leaned further into Rhys, the shape of his own welcoming me back to my spot. A soft giggle escaped my lips as Cassian grabbed my feet and placed them on his lap. Somehow my body had slid down Rhys’s and I was fully lying across the sofa on top of the boys. I was comfortable. So comfortable, I could fall asleep.

“At a party, actually,” said Rhys, his eyes glanced at Azriel while a small smile edged on his face.

“With a girl?” Cassian’s voice sounded surprised.

“With a girl.” Rhys nodded.

“No fucking way,” said Cassian. He couldn’t help but smile at Az, his mouth gaped. 

I understood Cassian’s reaction, Azriel didn’t dance let alone run or jog for anything. He was an enigma; an unsolvable riddle. The man was calm, cool, and collected at all times. Always unfazed by things that would distress the common Joe. It was slightly unnerving. If someone spilled wine on the carpet, Azriel wouldn’t panic at the thought of a huge red stain on the rug. He’d walk into the kitchen, no questions asked, and come back with a dry cloth, dish soap, and hydrogen peroxide, and blot the patch until it made you doubt if anything had actually been spilled. Whereas Mor and I would have stared at the ink-stained rug and exchanged wide-eyed looks before quietly agreeing that the room could do better without a rug.

Azriel shrugged completely unbothered. 

“With wh-

“I don’t kiss and tell,” said Azriel. Cold eyes stared back, silently telling Cassian to back off without any need for words.

“You’re just jealous he didn’t kiss you,” said Rhysand. He was trying to diffuse any rising tension. I could feel the sound of his voice vibrating across his chest. At some point, I’d given him my glass of wine or he’d taken it from me very smoothly. It would have been a disaster if I’d spilled it over the three of us on the sofa. I would have felt especially bad about it considering it was new. Their last one had moved on to a better place after Cassian put a hole in it from jumping on it during a karaoke session two months ago. 

“Hell yeah, I am!” Cassian exclaimed. 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, a lopsided grin on his lips. "Are we about to kiss right now?" 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said Rhysand. 

“Come here, you,” said Cassian. Throwing my legs off him, he jumped across the room embracing Azriel. The room filled with laughter at the show the two of them were putting on. Even through the loud ruckus, the short-tempered finance major was far too deep into her slumber to awaken. At some point, Amren had tucked herself into the armchair by the window and nodded off. She looked cozy and peaceful with her head lying on the armrest. We’d learned long ago that it was best to leave her alone when she dozed off. A lesson learned the hard way.

Through the open doors leading to the balcony, the sky was briefly illuminated with a bright light followed by a faint sound of thunder. I glanced at the digital clock beneath the TV sitting on the television stand. It was late and I needed to get home. There was still a buzzing feeling that tingled across my body from the earlier drinks but I didn’t live far. It was ten minutes max walking. Plus, if I left now, I could avoid the rain.

Sitting up, I scanned the room looking for my shoes. “I should get going,” I said.

“Let me call you a ride,” said Mor, already taking out her phone.

“Mor, I live within walking distance,” I said, gathering my shoes.

Azriel jumped in, “I barely drank. All I had was a sip earlier. I could give you a ri-

He didn’t finish his sentence as his eyes glanced toward the other side of the room at the sound of boots hitting the hardwood and the sofa shuffling. I didn’t think too much about it, not that I could in my current state. I was more focused on figuring out where I’d placed the key to my apartment. 

“Do you want us to walk with you?” asked Mor.

Holding on to the wall, I hooked two fingers into one of my white platform Nike and pushed my foot into the shoe. Was it counterintuitive to own sneakers with shoelaces if I never had any intention of tying them? I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought as I did the same with my other shoe. It was unclear to me if I genuinely found the thought funny or if it was the alcohol coursing through me. Before I could respond to Mor’s question, I felt the close warmth of a tall figure standing near me. 

“I’ll walk her,” said the familiar voice.

“Rhys-

“That wasn’t an offer, darling. That was me making a statement,” he said.

I sighed, looking up at him. It was late, and I didn’t feel like arguing knowing that it would delay my departure before the oncoming storm. Having someone walk you home wasn’t the end of the world. It was an act of the purest love. That someone cared about your well-being enough to ensure you’d made it home safely. That’s what I loved about my friends. The genuine love we all had for each other. 

Sliding my baby blue nylon backpack over my shoulder, I double-checked I’d gathered everything. I went through my mental checklist. Phone, wallet, keys. Patting my pockets, I ensured I had them. I made sure to hug everyone goodbye before heading out. Well, everyone except Amren, who was ever so sweetly tucked in the armchair with a blanket twice her size. Likely one of Cassian’s massive blankets. 

When I turned, Rhysand was already by the door holding it open for me. Slipping his hand over my shoulder, he grabbed my powder blue bag and placed it over his. With the motion, my white plush bear keychain swung against the two baby penguin pins on the cerulean fabric. My backpack had a very soft aesthetic that stood out when held by Rhys who was dressed in dark tones from head to toe. It didn’t fit his aesthetic. At all. I was about to object that I could carry my own bag but his voice interrupted my thoughts. “Don’t put the top lock on the door, I’ll be right back.”

As we headed out, the sky flashed again. The air felt cool against my skin and smelled like dew. It was a calming, fresh scent. It reminded me of potted flowers and succulents like the ones I had by the window in my room. The ones I always forgot to water but always survived, courtesy of one Elain Archeron. She knew I couldn’t keep anything alive, plant or fish, so she’d made sure to get me greenery that required minimal attention, which reminded me that I hadn’t watered them in a week. If it started pouring by the time I got home, I could stick them out the window and have them be watered au naturale. 

I jumped at the sound of thunder and instinctively grabbed Rhys’s hand. His fingers wrapping around mine were warm and rough whereas mine were cold and soft. He squeezed my hand and held on to mine as we continued walking. “It caught me off guard.”

“Mmhm,” he said.

The wind picked up slightly as we headed down the illuminated path amongst the trees and apartment complex gardens that stretched across an open space. Rain was certainly on its way, it was just a matter of when. We likely had a couple of minutes before the downpour began. Thunder sounded all around us, and one, two droplets landed on my cheek. Damn. Other than being way off in my calculations, I’d also forgotten to borrow an umbrella before we left. There was no avoiding that we were going to be caught in this. 

“I’m glad I grabbed this before we left,” said Rhys, opening an umbrella large enough to cover us both. At what point he’d grabbed the umbrella was beyond me. I stepped closer to him as he fumbled opening it. He gave it a slight jiggle with one hand that became more aggressive by the second as he attempted to push the sliding metal piece with his fingers. After about a minute, the section loosened up allowing for more movement. The issue now lay with the broken stretchers that were meant to hold the fabric. 

“Who the hell leaves a broken umbrella in the umbrella stand?” said Rhys. 

“Someone who forgot to throw it out?” 

“That’s why trashcans exist,” he sighed. Rhys let go of my hand and continued fumbling with the umbrella trying to see if the pieces would lock into place. Thunder sounded above us and more drops of water began falling slowly picking up.

“If we pick up the pace, we can make it before it really hits,” said Rhys. His eyes surveyed mine and I could tell he was both disappointed and worried that he’d let me down somehow. But unless he was secretly in cahoots with Mother Nature, there was no way any of this could be his fault or something for him to blame himself for. 

“I’m sorry about the weather,” said Rhys. The way he rubbed his neck and his brows drew together, I couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on his face for something out of his reach. 

I shook my head and smiled up at him. “What are you sorry about? A broken umbrella that you had no idea was broken? The sky? Rhysand, unless you secretly own a weather machine, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Forget the umbrella.”

“In fact,” I continued, “I think this is an opportunity.”

I took my bag and the umbrella from his hands, chucked the latter in the nearest bin, and placed my bag on the ground.

“An opportunity?” 

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the moment, but I’d always wanted to dance in the rain like in movies and musicals. I felt bold and giddy at the idea of doing so now. All I could focus on was this tune from the third High School Musical installment. “Take my hand, take a breath.”

Standing in front of him, I stretched out my hand and offered it to Rhys. He looked puzzled but accepted my offer. “Pull me close, and take one step.”

“A song with instructions? I can follow that,” he said. A small smile formed on his lips.  

“Keep your eyes locked on mine,” I continued. 

His violet eyes twinkled beneath the moonlight and it almost looked like stars danced across his eyes as they softened, placing his other hand on my waist. He knew exactly what song I was referencing. After all, I’d made him watch it enough times with me. “And let the music be your guide.”

I nodded, cuing him to step with me. With his eyes wholly fixed on me, we slowly stepped into time, our shoes gently tapping against the pavement.

“Won't you promise me,” Rhys chimed. 

Pulling me closer against his chest, Rhysand guided me across the makeshift dance floor—the walkway between the trees—with a step here and a half turn there. We were dancing through the gardens illuminated by the night sky and lamp posts down the pathway as we waltzed further in. 

“Now won't you promise me, that you'll never forget.” 

“We'll keep dancing,” added Rhys. 

 “To keep dancing.” A smile curved across my lips. 

“Wherever we go next.” Our voices intertwined as we spun together, my hands held on to him tighter as the rain picked up. Swaying through the path of greenery, the scenery around us dissolved. It was just Rhys and I.  

Thunder crashed above, and the true downpour began. 

“It's like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you,” we continued. I couldn’t help but smile brightly up at him as rain trailed down his face. The buzzing feeling from earlier that had coursed through my body now turned into a tingly feeling that reached from where Rhys was holding my hand—my fingers—to my chest. No, my body wasn’t buzzing, it was humming. We might have been dancing but I was floating in his embrace. I couldn’t look away from him. 

With every lyric, raindrops painted our clothes a shade darker. My indigo cardigan was now inked navy as we swayed to the invisible music. My feet splashed against puddles, drenching my white shoes in rainwater. They’d likely be gray by the time I got home but that didn’t matter. As our feet shuffled across the pathway, the sky reflected itself over the water on the trail creating an illusion of stars beneath our feet. We were dancing among the stars. 

We sang the rest of the song, never messing up the lyrics or missing a beat. We might have been recreating a moment by singing a song from one of my favorite films but this waltz was entirely made up by us. Rhys’s hand still grasping mine, spun me around as we brought the sound of the music in our chests to a slow end. His eyes were still on mine as we held our soaking bodies close. Was he always this beautiful?

I couldn’t help but marvel at his handsomeness and let an intrusive thought get the better of me as I ran my fingers across his cheek. He leaned into my warm touch, eyes softening. His eyes glanced from mine down to my lips. Please, I pleaded. I could feel my heart racing and my chest tightening at the thought of his lips on mine. Rhysand cleared his throat as his hands gently let go of mine, breaking the spell. 

Taking a step back, he scanned me from head to toe and chuckled. “I bet we look like drowned rats to anyone looking out their windows.”

I shook my head, holding back a smile.

“I feel like one too,” I said. Looking down at my jeans, there was not a dry spot on them. 

I bit the inside of my cheek. Had we just had a moment? I must have hallucinated it in the dark lighting. There was no way that Rhysand had looked like he’d wanted to kiss me two seconds ago. I wasn’t ignorant, I’d known Rhysand was objectively attractive. He had a strong jawline and he was fit from working out every week with Cassian and Azriel. He had nice cheekbones, luscious lashes, soft lips, and intelligent eyes. He was delightful to look at. He was…

Who was I kidding, he was handsome beyond compare. I just had never seen him in that way until now. Mother above, I was oblivious as they came. And I wished I could have blamed the alcohol for all of it—the way I was feeling, the thoughts I was having—but the truth was, I’d burned it out of my system with that dance. 

‘We should get going,” said Rhys. 

He grabbed my bag off the ground and we walked the rest of the way in awkward silence. I kept glancing sideways at him every so often. I’d definitely hallucinated that moment we’d had for a split second. The rest of the way to my place, I spent it looking at the ground contemplating while Rhysand stared at the stars as if searching for a cosmic answer. 

By the time we made it to my place, we were full-on drenched. I was sure my hair looked like a wet mop attached to my head. I patted my pockets in search of the key and found it in the left back pocket of my jeans. They jingled in my hands as I fumbled looking for the right one.

“I hope you’re not planning to walk back in this. At least let me offer you a towel.” I glanced sideways as I turned the key.

He didn’t argue. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all. He’d stayed quiet and simply nodded as I led him in. With Viviane at her boyfriend’s for the weekend, there was no one home. All the lights were off as we walked in. I flipped the light switches as we stepped through the place in search of something dry. In the hallway closet, I found some towels for us. Meanwhile, I could hear Rhys in the kitchen opening and closing the cabinets. 

As I turned the corner, I could see him pulling out two teabags from a box before his head turned in my direction. "I'll put the kettle on."

"So sweet of you, you're an angel," I said. 

On top of being handsome, he was very thoughtful. Was I really falling for my best friend? I couldn’t help but keep my eyes locked on him as he turned on the stove and prepared tea for us. I bit my lower lip and turned towards the dryer that was hidden behind a sliding door. Neither of us was shivering or in any danger of getting frostbite, but a warm towel would certainly go well with tea. After a few minutes, the machine beeped just as the kettle began hissing. I pulled both towels out of the dryer and practically moaned at the warm touch against my skin. 

“Would you like a dry towel?” I offered.

“You don’t want my wet handkerchief to dry your wet face?” He glanced sideways at me as he poured water into each cup with a smirk painted across his face.

I giggled and walked further into the kitchen. As soon as he placed the kettle back on the stove, I threw a towel over my shoulder and placed the other one on his head as he turned around to face me. I ran the towel over his head, drying his hair before sliding it over his shoulders and wrapping it around his body. 

I looked up at him. “My hair is soaked, Rhys.” 

The clothes we were wearing could have easily squeezed out two gallons of water. I could have probably fed my succulents with the amount of liquids soaked into our outfits. If I could have thrown myself in the dryer too, I would have knocked out two birds with one stone. 

Standing in front of me, wrapped around in my towel, he looked adorable. Rhys’s eyes met mine and I could have sworn time stopped. All I could do was stare up at him. Oh gosh, was I staring? I blinked rapidly and dropped my gaze.

“You still look beautiful,” he said.

I felt my heart stop and my breath hitch. My hands stilled on his body still holding on to the light blue towel. Did he mean it in a friendly way? I glanced back up. His eyes peered down at me searching for something in mine. My lips parted as if to speak but I wasn’t sure what to say. Instead, I closed my mouth and swallowed. 

“Feyre.”

The way he said my name made my heart skip. He took a step, closing the gap between us. My name sounded low like a prayer on his lips. If he was praying, then I wanted to bless him but I needed a sign. I wanted a clear sign that he wasn’t just whispering my name in an empty apartment for no reason. 

“Why didn’t you kiss me earlier?” I half whispered.

His eyes glanced from my eyes to my mouth and back in a triangle manner. A small smile painted itself across his lips like a prayer answered. “You caught that.”

It wasn’t a question, he was making a statement.

“I wanted to be sure your head was clear when I kissed you,” said Rhysand.

“Rhys?”

“Yes?”

A pause.

“My head’s clear now,” I said.

Rhysand's head slowly leaned forward, stopping inches from my face, giving me time to take a step back if I wanted to back out. I didn’t. I wanted—needed, to know what his lips felt like on mine. If they were truly as soft as they looked. His fingers titled my chin up and kissed me. Gods, his kiss was more than soft, it was life-changing. His lips were gentle against mine, so sweet and delicately slow like he’d been waiting an eternity for this moment and now that he had it, now that the moment had arrived he wanted to savor it. If I’d been floating earlier when I danced with him beneath the rain, then I was soaring above the clouds and beyond the moon now. 

His hands cupped my face as mine slid into his hair, pulling him closer by the neck. Neither one of us parted to take a breath. I could tell this wasn’t just any kiss, this was the kiss. The one that would change our lives—my life—forever. The kiss I’d compare any other to. I could feel his chest against mine as our legs brushed against each other. Rhysand's hands slowly slid down my shoulders and arms and made their way down and around my waist. We pulled each other closer, our bodies seeking contact where they could as we continued wrapping ourselves against each other. We were two colliding stars, bursting with sparks and ever-changing hues.

After what felt like forever, I pulled back slightly, eyes closed. Blood had rushed into my cheeks, and there was no doubt that the heat against my flushed face had painted them rosy. I could feel his head leaning against mine, both of us breathless. Mother above, I truly was oblivious to everything. That definitely wasn’t a friend kiss. That was an I-want-to-be-more-than-friends kiss. 

Rhysand’s hand came up against my face tucking strands of semi-wet hair behind my ear. It felt like he was looking at me for the first time or trying to memorize every freckle on my face. A beat passed and he broke the silence. “I think I’m falling in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”

My heart skipped at those words—at his confession. My mouth gaped. There were no words. I wasn’t sure what to say. All I could focus on was the rising and beating in my chest as I focused on taking the next breath. Had this really just happened? Had we truly just kissed? Did he just say that he—

“I’m hoping you didn’t just kiss me to then break my heart, Feyre, darling.” He cupped my face as he spoke the last two words. 

“I never knew you liked me,” I said, stumbling on the words. 

“Now you do. And correction, I said I love you.” The corners of Rhysand’s mouth turned up. I couldn’t help the way my eyes widened in disbelief. He’d said the words again. 

“You love me?”

Rhys chuckled as he shook his head. He lifted my head with a hand beneath my chin as if inspecting me. “Did you hit yourself with the dryer door? Do I need to kiss you again? Or maybe hold your hand as we walk through a storm? Or dance in the rain while quoting your favorite movie?” 

He loved me. He loved me, and he not only meant it with the words he’d spoken, but Rhys had demonstrated and proved time and time again that he truly meant it, body and soul. A man who could talk the talk and walk the walk. Dare I say, he was a man after my own heart. 

“If you let me, I promise I’ll spend every day making sure you never doubt how worthy of love you are,” said Rhys. The back of his hand caressed my cheek.

“I’ll do anything with you, Rhys. As long as it’s you,” I said. 

His lips met mine again, this time with more passion and intensity. Wrapping my hands around his neck once more, I felt the towel slide off his shoulders and plop to the ground. Rhys's hands traveled around my hips, to the back of my thighs before he lifted me into his arms. Instinctually, I wrapped my legs around him and deepened our kiss. I wanted him closer. I wanted his body against mine without the barriers of our wet clothes. 

As if he’d read my thoughts, I could feel us moving down the hallway to my room. Every kiss turned deeper than the last and I knew I couldn’t deny myself the truth. I was completely and utterly in love with him. And I was a fool for not noticing before that maybe I had loved him longer than my body knew. Longer than I truly knew. He was my safe space, my person, my best friend. He was everything I could want in a man. He was everything. Rhys was everything.

Gently laying me against my bed, he pulled back slightly to look down at me. His eyes were like lilac-blue stars glistening against the moonlight as he marveled at me. It was almost like he couldn’t believe that this was real. I placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb. His lips smiled against my warm touch.

“I can’t stop smiling when I look at you,” said Rhys.

He gazed at me like a painter setting eyes on their muse. Like he’d been seeking inspiration his entire life and now he’d found it. Rhys shook his head in disbelief. “How did this happen?” 

The question wasn’t for me to answer, it was rhetorical. He was speaking his thoughts aloud as if waiting for a cosmic answer to shine through the window. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Feyre. 

“When I wake up, when I’m about to fall asleep, even in my dreams I can never stop thinking of you. When you’re not with me, it feels like something is missing. And, gosh, I hate poetry, but when I think of you…I can’t help but imagine that this is what the greats write about. This feeling. It’s like poets are reciting their writings in my head.”

I could feel the corners of my eyes becoming damp. I could spend the rest of this night in his arms simply admiring him. His honest eyes were full of more unspoken words of love. I could feel the wetness of my clothes seeping into the blanket below but I didn’t care. I thumbed his lips, his Apollo’s arched bow, memorizing this moment. I could feel my shaky voice escaping me as I spoke.

“All these years, I thought we were just friends, and I was okay with that…but now I realize that maybe I’ve felt like this for a while about you. That I’ve loved you without knowing that this is what it was.”

“You love me?” A smile spread across his lips.

“Did you hit yourself with the door coming in? Or do I need to kiss you again?” I mimicked his earlier question. 

He gently rubbed his nose against mine, his lips inches from my own.

“Kiss me again,” he whispered.

I moaned against his lips this time. I wanted him to hold me, to touch me, to kiss me, to say my name. I wanted everything and more. We tugged against wet clothes, which were much harder to take off thanks to their added weight. They stuck to our bodies and made it difficult to slide out of them. But we didn’t care. We kissed and laughed our way out of the heavy wet clothing until we were skin to skin. Until we were finally warm in each other's embrace. And for the first time in a while, I prayed.

Rhys.

I prayed the rest of the night as his body melded against mine, pulling prayer after prayer from my lips. His name, the only one I wanted to whisper against the moonlight shining through my window. It was only our names echoing from the other’s lips against soft I love yous with every touch and shift against hips. We were dancing like stars in the night sky, and holding on to each other as if we’d collided into one. Our whispers and sighs grew more uneven. He was my gravity, my center, and I was his. With Rhys’s eyes on mine and a final waltz around the universe, I felt my world burst like a nuclear fission. Like a star reaching its last evolutionary stage. 

Rhys kissed me again, softer this time, and wrapped me in his arms as we lay beneath the comfort of warm blankets, tangled in each other. Pulling me against his chest, he whispered. "Did you know that rainy day cuddles are two times more effective than sunny day cuddles?"

“Don’t you have to tell Cas to lock the door for you,” I said. 

“That can wait,” said Rhys, kissing the top of my head.

#ACOTAR Gift Exchange 2023 #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #feysand #feysand fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhysand high lord of the night court #high lord rhysand #rhys acotar #feyre x rhysand #feyre #feyre acotar #feyre darling #feyre and rhysand #rhysand and feyre #idiots in love #idiots in love fic #idiots in love fanfiction #college au #college au acotar #acotar college au #acotar au #acotar au fic #acotar au fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #fluff

[zanukavat]

OOOO OP DROP RICK AND MORTY OCS

OH BOY HERE WE GO.

so, I made these cute ref sheets in the shows style yesterday (and today), apologies if you cant decipher my scribbly handwriting, ill summarize below:

Rick (nicknamed on the citadel "Seven")

Rick's home dimension is M-121.5 but you could hardly call it a home. He left his Diane and Beth behind shortly after acquiring portal technology from Prime or one of his subordinate Ricks, wandering off to absorb himself in the vastness of infinity.

His original dimension never ended up birthing a Morty, since his Beth and Jerry had trouble supporting themselves and had Summer as their only child.

Rick, eventually growing lonely but refusing to admit it, joins the citadel in an effort to be useful and climb the ranks there with the hopes of living a fulfilling life in a safe, Rick-made bubble. He gets assigned a Morty as standard, but said Morty dies in combat on a riot not too shortly after.

Rick gets a (small) punishment, one you'd get for breaking a doorknob or forgetting to turn off the lights in the building before you leave; getting a Morty killed. He probably just has to scrub toilets for a week or something.

He gets his new Morty and resumes work on the teleportation deck as normal and lives with his Morty in a small apartment, until S301 where they manage to flee the citadel together.

Morty ("unlucky charm" / other similar insults behind his back)

Has forgotten his original dimensional code due to constant changes of ownership. Only the Morty databanks know it now. He took M-121.5's dimension as his and carries a small wristband with the code written on it.

This Morty has gone through a LOT of Ricks. Six in fact, which is why his new Rick is mockingly called "Seven" by others on the citadel, making fun of him for ending up with such a shitty excuse of a Morty. Asking him if he'd lost a bet.

Morty's left arm has been surgically altered to fit a tracker interface that'll show Rick's current position and vitals to Morty. Though he only gets this later, after they flee the citadel.

The jacket he is wearing was originally merchandise stolen from a small shop he worked in while living on the citadel. They later add patches to it in an effort to cover up the citadel logo, since Morty doesn't want to give up the jacket, and Rick is paranoid about association with the citadel after they've fled. Pretty rich coming from the guy still wearing his uniform under a stinky coat, but what can you do when those are the only clothes you've got.

They go through an intense period of struggling for survival, with the Federation collapse and chaos left behind, the two of them retreat to more desolate spots of the universe to wait for the dust to settle. After a bit of "holy shit we lived" euphoria, they fight a lot, with Rick slowly noticing the many flaws in this Morty he is now -- in his assumption -- forever stuck with. He also pushes Morty too far numerous times but reels him back in again anytime because what other option is there? Being stranded alone in an asteroid gas station restaurant?

Eventually Morty suggests returning to "their" home dimension. Rick's home dimension. He's reluctant but eventually (after a really long while and lots of convincing) does give in since their circumstances are dire and they could use a little civilization, even if it means returning to the family he abandoned.

I don't have much worked out for this Smith family, but I'd assume Summer is a good deal different from the Summer we know, due to being an only child. Beth's daddy issues are just as intense as Beth Prime.

This Beth and Jerry probably also never end up divorced and stay together for Summer's sake, honestly probably unhealthier than just splitting up for the time being and working out their issues separately.

Once they crash (probably literally) into their new "home" and everybody gets over the initial insanity of the situation, Rick struggles to confront the reasons he left and kind of just drowns himself in unhealthy habits. Besides the known drinking issues which is kind of the baseline, he makes sure to never let Morty out of his sight and pretty much makes a normal life for the kid impossible despite desperately promising it to him when they turned to move to Earth.

He builds a new portal gun out of scrap they've harvested while surviving and old things Beth never threw away because they reminded her of her father, and he's gone again. Gone with Morty. Gone God knows where. Except he returns at night to sleep in a shitty little cot and fuck he probably drags Morty's air mattress into his room with him without any explanation. Blames it on Morty not being able to sleep alone since they left the citadel. Blames it on anything but himself.

They go into what I'd describe as a narcissism-fuelled grace period, or honeymoon period, the more time they spend together off-planet after crashing at the Smith's house.

They go from Rick being very controlling and making Morty feel like an inferior sidekick, to Rick actually opening up and helping him become better. Very slowly and gradually, he realizes that, well, he's stuck with this Morty now. This is *his* Morty by all intents and purposes, and he doesnt have a fuckin replacement Morty ticket and after constructing and unregistered portal gun he'd not be let back into the citadel anyway even after reconstruction - so might as well invest his time and effort into this one Morty as much as he (claims to) hate it.

The kid is so broken already, having witnessed so many versions of his grandpa die, which Rick realizes after a while would just make it easier for him to reassemble him anew and mold him how he wants it. He's a sick bastard but if it aint broke dont fix it and especially dont fix it if it promises to always stay by your side and begs you not to leave

The whole "unlucky charm" curse only serves to fuel Rick's ego too because, unlike all these previous Ricks he only knows about on paper, *he* hasn't died yet with this shitty excuse of a Morty around him. which makes him better than all those before him. He's cocky, priding himself on living where those Ricks failed.

He gets too confident, as all Ricks do, and after a few too-close brushes with death he does decide to invest into various failsafes and "upgrading" Morty to a standard he sees fit. This is when Morty gets the tracker arm enhancement and various other augmentations that'll essentially turn him into a lifeline for Rick. He's driven by anxiety of his past mistakes, past deaths of Ricks, repeating. This time there'd be no scolding by teachers and new Rick two weeks later. There'd only be grief, and nothing.

Morty's trained not only in combat and survival skills but also shown how to reboot and even replace certain cybernetic parts of Rick's body.

surgery, baby!

Not on a clone, not a simulation, the real him. Train for the real deal.

They spend weeks in the newly constructed underground labs, Morty cutting him open and putting him back together; surgeries upon surgeries without any anesthetic so that Rick is fully aware and awake to guide Morty through it.

Eventually Morty does have to put those skills to the test when shit goes wrong on an adventure, but this is already so long so I'll spare you!! I'd be surprised if you read to here, if you did, thank you and I'm glad you're interested in my little guys !!

#hhooooo boy this is long hdnfhfnh and thats not even all #but it is 1:30 am so I should definitely go sleep #im super happy you wanted to know about them because this also gave me the opportunity to finally write down the happenings in #chronological order so this helps #my art #rnm #rick and morty #rick and morty oc #ill make a tag for them bc I don't think this is the last we'll see of them so I might as well keep it organized in here #M-121.5 #Rick M-121.5 #Morty M-121.5 #tw medical #tw surgery #medical mention #surgery mention #ask #talks #selfshippinglover

[vampirecatsw]

*CLAPS HANDS AND RUBS THEM TOGETHER* NOW THAT I'M FINISHED ANSWERING YOUR ASK, CYN. (BLESS YOU, BLESS YOU!) PLEASE DO THE CHARACTER OPINION BINGO FOR KAITO, AOKO, SHINICHI, AND RAN. PRETTY PLEASE. MAY YOUR DAY BE SPECTACULAR!

Hi! Here's my ask with drawings (of various quality, you can see as I drew more I got more into the swing HAAHHAH. That's what I get for being so rusty - I don't actually draw that often.) The colours I used are ones I associate with the characters!

ft. my very informal writing style, probably like a thousand typos because I'm typing this at 1am, and many shoutouts to amazing dcmk creators 🥰

Also, please check out Anna's ask! https://akai-anna.tumblr.com/post/739521989281234944/hey-there-my-lovely-mutual-3-3-i-love-when-you

Anna, you're so lovely, fr. I hope this makes you giggle and swing your feet, I had such a fun time thinking about them! I added my own flair with my drawings <3

Feel free to ask me to decipher any handwriting

P.s. That character with the hat you'll see is my sona! I'm calling him Sol because that's another online name I seem to take up often. Feel free to call me Sol as well!

(Shameless plug: Check out my art blog - cyndraws - if you like my art! Also, it has some au ramblings too ^v^. https://cyndraws.tumblr.com/)

KAITO

Bingo count: 4 (well, If I ticked only more more box, I could have extra bingos for almost every extra box I ticked haha...)

The art: I gave up at first and just drew him as a stick figure. Then I added clothes to him, that's why he's so proportionally off,,, My beloved blorbo, I feel like I did you so dirty 😭

Fun challenge: Guess what I was inspired by when I drew Kaito's and Aoko's outfits.

I'm literally in love with him no joke. The love is too intense aughhdfk. What kind of love? Yes. I would do anything for him. I'd be so clingy fr.

Headcanons? Sooo many. Not even a joke. They're too integrated into my brain at this point so yeah haha

His HANDS. Slim and very fast and flexible. They have callouses - screw smooth hands. Callouses as a sign of his hard work throughout his entire life.

Fox? He's a fox. So silly, little trickster. https://www.tumblr.com/cyndraws/739418480470851584/look-me-in-the-eyes-and-tell-me-kaito-isnt-a-fox

Let's just link my simping art here too: https://www.tumblr.com/cyndraws/739224275061456896/im-such-a-simp-help-me-kaito-simps-unite-pls Please let me squish his cheeks please...PLEASE

Bonus: Old character opinion bingo for Kaito: https://cyndraws.tumblr.com/post/739190201679757312/everyone-if-im-going-to-expose-myself-as-a-kaito I got over the fear 👍 It's from a while back, like maybe... 2022? idk

I love unhinged Kaito

Gender? Please. I'll take any masc at this point HAHAH

Canon isn't real - Like it's amazing but also like... underwhelming. *Shakes it vigorously* GIVE ME MORE. MORE EKODA GANG. MORE SUPPORT FOR KAITO. LET KAITO CRY. I WANT MORE WORLD BUILDING ON AKAKO AND TO SEE THE KUROBA FAMILY MORE (+ a billion more requests.) PLEASE GOSHO IM BEGGING

(It's ok, I got the fics for these cravings 👍)

~

2. AOKO

Bingo count: 0

Wow. I realised just how little brain space I dedicate to her... but she's also so silly. I love her so much. She's a great character to pair up with Kaito (for any relationships, I love when they're having fun together.) She doesn't need more suffering <3

I love sm how in MK1412 they added extra scenes of the Ekoda gang! And Aoko looks so cute in it! (everyone else? ... it varies)

Snowball fight! ^

Now this is a hella hot take but I personally think KaiAo is much more interesting than ShinRan (for me). And fun too, because I've always been drawn to fun and teasing dynamics like these over the more romantic ones (if you get what I mean by more romantic). KaiAo and Shinran both are such wonderful couples though. *Bangs fists on table* THEY'RE BOTH SO UNBEARABLE CUTEEE

Someone told me I have very similar vibes to Aoko and I've been reevaluating myself XDD. No but I can see it. I think we have a similar energy (in my brain at least, I'm much more tired when I go out) and even preferred fashion.

Would give her a kiss anytime. Definitely. Let's go out on a picnic and have a fun hangout. We would be good friends.

Aolele theory by alizardjae: Please check it out!!! https://alizardjae.tumblr.com/post/134111960564/alright-finally-got-around-to-writing-this-thing Basically it's the summary I wrote up there. I whole heartedly believe in it, because it's a fun theory and I've done it before myself (...ehem annoying relatives) - so it's definitely believable. And I love the idea of Aoko Holmes being carried over from Nonchalant Lupin (<- Prototype of Magic Kaito. It's a fun read!)

~

3. SHINICHI/CONAN

Bingo count: 4

Drawing was inspired by that scene where Conan gets suspicious of Hanzawa-san (from The Culprit Hanzawa, a spinoff of dcmk.)

Ok, so the thing is, I have a very strange relationship with him.

He's so silly, right? He so fun, he's adorable, so caring and well meaning, but I'm scared of him. I wouldn't want to meet him. I'm terrified even though he's so nice 😭. So I'd rather observe from a distance (hence the drawing ^ but I'd definitely set off his senses a lot.)

(What does it say about me that I'm scared of Shin/Cone but not Kaito? I'm working on overcoming my fear of Conan/Shin, I promise *on my hands and knees* I REALLY AM)

(My irl friend understands why I'm so terrified, I've explained the crazy stunts he's done and his very illegal spy equipment to them... they actually got a nightmare about Conan that night. He's such a law breaking little gremlin (affectionate)) So...no kisses for you, detective... only because I'm too intimidated 😭 But I'll gladly make content dedicated to you and fawn over you <3

If it's not already obvious, Kai > Shin/Cone for me. But he's definitely a close second.

Shin's/Cone's aesthetic? So peak. His detective work and general vibes with the series is so banging. That clean formal attire - I love wearing more formal stuff out. Being judged for it? At this point I don't really care hahaha. His mismatching outfits are so endearing, but I don't really vibe with them.

Canon is kinda frustrating for me. Well, as usual, I love to pick out the pieces I love and keep them dear to my heart. Ugh I want more identity issues and character relationship focuses. And more Shinran, this is literally ridiculous for slowburn lol.

~

4. RAN

Bingo count: 0

I drew a masterpiece for her. As she deserves 🥰. (Fun fact, this is the first time I've drawn her properly.)

Drawing inspirations:

Sakura Class! It was so adorable. I loved seeing the povs of both Shin and Ran. The Sakura couple,,, 🥺🥺 why are they so cute

LavenderTowne! Her art is amazing and her art tips are always so helpful: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCD4XIm3ZFhT72WjqhIXMN9w

In particular, I used these two tutorials: Easy Background: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/Zw5oB-ir5R0 Easy Lighting: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/shWoTarp_Vk

*ehem* Back to our ask now

Ran is so lovely! Such a queen, so adorable, such an icon! Have you seen her puff out her cheeks in chapter 1120? (+ many other instances of her being cute of course.)

(^ well, now you've seen it)

I love her with sass! It's so funny and fitting for her. And paired with her badassness? Wow. She's amazing. She has such a big heart too <3

I can see how Shinichi fell for her at first sight, she really is so pretty and cute. Her smile was such a direct hit to his heart XD

Obligatory shoutouts!:

Amazing Shinran analysis by rabbitsrants: https://www.tumblr.com/rabbitsrants/737479648281329664?source=share

Really REALLY cute Shinran art by detshin: https://www.tumblr.com/detshin/734222664310358016?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/detshin/734913462286909440?source=share Their blog also has really cute Shinran content!

For some reason, I associate the english localised names to the more sarcastic and witty characterisations in the funimation dub. That's why I wrote Rachel.

Maybe it's because of halfpenny_jones's amazing characterisation: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpenny_jones/pseuds/halfpenny_jones/works?fandom_id=964594 Please check out their works too!

~

That's the end~ Thanks so much for asking! It was so enjoyable to ponder and draw. And I'll always take opportunities to talk about them.

Feel free to chat again whenever you feel like it <3 And also, feel free to ask about many other things too, like more character bingos or aus if you find them interesting. I hope you also enjoy them if you go through them.

See you next illusion~

#dcmk #kaito kuroba #kuroba kaito #kaito kid #aoko nakamori #nakamori aoko #cyn answers #asks #shinichi kudo #kudo shinichi #ran mouri #mouri ran #cyn talks #cyn speaks #cyn draws #not much in tags cause i think i said what i wanted to in the post

[smalltendencies]

Currently working on a TSP thing where the Narrator is an author who has drafts and scripts scattered all over his home. He works so hard and is proud of each one. They will be published one day, but he has a fear that they won't be recieved like they should.

But unknown to the Narrator, there is a borrower (Stanley or an unnamed borrower... Idk yet) who loves these stories written by the human they see only in glances. They are about scenarios and places they can only dream of. And so every night, when the bean is asleep, they go and read these before they go to sleep themselves; sometimes accidentally being so absorbed in the words they don't stop until the telltale signs the Narrator has woken up causes them to flee.

The borrower is a little shit though (like Stanley lol) and will use whatever writing utensil they have (a piece of lead, some homemade borrower pen with calligraphy ink they borrowed, ANYTHING) to annotate and mark up the pages. A paragraph about why they loved this scene. Underlining their favorite quote. Just showing that someone looks at these endless pages when they will probably not be published for years.

Of course, they don't stop there. Little bastard tendencies makes them also mark out words they hate. Little notes about how they would make the scene BETTER. Why this paragraph doesn't fit with the rest of the narrative. Anything that comes to mind.

While these papers and packets are strewn all over the house on different tables and desks, the Narrator has some uncanny ability to find them the next day. And he is so so confused as to why there is small writing (that he needs a magnifying glass to even see) pops up every night. Is there a ghost? An intruder? Who knows. But they clearly don't know good writing.

Don't get him wrong, he relishes in the happy comments. He enjoys the praise and love in the notes that give him more of an ego boost. But he LOATHES the markouts, the red ink that says he did it WRONG.

Sometimes the borrower can hear the Narrator rant through the walls.

"I don't need the validation of a person who won't tell me their absurd opinions face-to-face!"

"Don't waste my time if you don't even understand the character's motivations!"

"Maybe before writing all over my work, you should sit and think about how this description helps the readers understanding considering the protagonists choice in this moral dilemma."

"This is 'out of character'?! Clearly you have no critical thinking skills whatsoever!"

"Why are you doodling on MY art?!"

The Narrator is just ranting. He doesn't think the mysterious entity can actually hear him. As he slowly deciphers each comment (because that handwriting is chicken scratch and its so small), he will complain, rant, or thank the writer and explain why he chose to do what he did.

The borrower gets bold, and will write above their previous (now marked out) comments. Little snide comments to get under the Narrators skin just for fun. Because all of this is just to make both of their boring lives interesting. He never expected the Narrator to take in a BORROWER'S thoughts. (They have little written fights on sticky notes that last DAYS) Both of them can't wait to hear from the other.

It's not breaking the code as long as they don't get caught, right?

They do get caught. A prank laid out by the Narrator that involves some clear super glue on copied pages (that are also glued to the table Jesus Christ he committed to the bit if he was willing to hurt hardwood) with a note that says something along the lines of "If you know my work so well, why not stick around and tell me that to my face?" What was supposed to be a small inconvenience and joke for a person ends up being near life threatening for a borrower.

And the Narrator finds them the next day stuck and they are scared. More like terrified. This whole friendship they built is crumbled automatically because now the borrower is so scared and the Narrator doesn't know what to do about this whole situation.

#g/t #tsp g/t #tspud g/t #me rambling #there is no vore in this one #the stanley parables #the narrator #borrower stanley #borrowers au #g/t community #unintentional fearplay

[biggestqiblifan]

Ok, so the time was 1am.

I was lying in bed, unable to sleep.

SUDDENLY I had an idea for a Cralt fanart.

So, in a couple minutes, while listening to the voices of my parents, monitoring them, so that I can pretend to be asleep when they come near my dusty dwelling.

I drew without any reference.

I give you! I Cralt art made with sleep deprivation and insanity!

(sorry its so bad, I was a tired child)

Here is a close up.

Have fun deciphering my handwriting!

(yes I gave Crowley a man-bun, don't judge/come after me!)

BTW: They're supposed to be holding hands down the bottm, but I ran out of space.

#hope you like it #rangers apprentice #halt o'carrick #help #john flanagan #art #cralt #crowley meratyn #cralt fanart #drawing #artwork #artists on tumblr #sketch #pencil sketch #pencil drawing #pencil #pencil art #tired

[otiksimr]

A very bad explanation of how to draw shadows.

#my art #tutorial #if you can even call it that #have fun deciphering my handwriting :D

[impossiblenightmarechild]

Can you tell more abt static i like them...

OFC!!!!!! Here is a very long post about their lore lol.

So here's their "in universe" lore:

Static is basically a weird eldritch cryptid thing, that can mimic other things, how well they do so is based on how long they've been interacting with whatever they're mimicking.

Their story starts after episode 2 of SPTO, when Matthew acquires Gideon's company. He's been working and comes to the conclusion that he needs a bodyguard because using his mystic powers to summon the hipster demon chicks every time he needs a bodyguard is tiring. So he sends out an ad for a bodyguard, and specifies in it that he wants a human.

Cue Static, vibing in wherever they've decided to hide out for the day, when they come across the flyer. They read it and decide, "Human, huh? Yeah I can do that." And mimic the first three humans they see, before combining their appearances into an amalgamation that is inherently their own. Thus: Boom! That's why they look the way they do. However, there are some aspects of their mimicry that aren't, like, right? Where they look off. An uncanny valley type experience for people who look at them.

(I'm adding a keep reading thing because I wrote so much :o)

Anyway, they end up going to the secret lair for the job, and Matthew asks if they are going to fill out an application there or if they already had one. Not knowing what that is, they end up filling one out there, and Matthew ends up writing everything down to do a two for one interview session. So their application ends up looking like this:

[Transcript for those who don't want to/can't decipher my handwriting:

Bodyguard Application

Name: (scribbled out mess); Age: 20 something (anything after the 2 is scribbled out); Do you have fighting experience? Y is checked off; Can you demonstrate that experience? Y is checked off again; When are you available? 24/7; How much do you want to be paid? None

[end transcript]

Afterwards, everyone who filled in their application is put into a tournament style fighting test, so that Matthew can gauge who is best at fighting and therefore the best at being his bodyguard. Static wins...of course.

Their job starts immediately afterwards, and they're taken to get a standard bodyguard suit n such.

From there they just stay by Matthew 24/7 because that's their job. Sometime before episode 5, them and Matthew end up dating due to a comedic falling mishap in which they fall into each other, accidentally kiss, and BOOM, Sparks!!!

They have their job until Matthew isn't CEO anymore, so they end up getting a job at a library, because when they had days off they'd end up going to the library to read. (They have read every single book there.)

That's all I have lore wise, but here are some fun facts too!

They love the rain, and they'll stand outside in it until it stops.

They blink the wrong way, and because of this they don't blink around other people

Their eyes are really sensitive to the blue light from screens so they have stronger than normal blue light glasses to mitigate this

At first they have next to no emoting ability. Their resting face is a smile, and they can move their eyebrows, but that's about it. The more time they spend with humans the more they can emote, because the easier it is to mimic them.

They love just saying fun facts they learned from all the books they read. However, if they are reading a fact from their phone around Ramona, she will pull up a picture of the nerd emoji and say it looks like them. They hate this.

Their height varies from 6 feet to, "a little too tall"

There is only one person who can't say their name, and she just calls them Static, everyone else just says it and thinks it's normal.

Bonus of the two times Ramona compared Static to the nerd emoji:

---------

And here is where I talk about their creation in general:

So they actually started off as a Mandela Catalogue OC, and they still technically are, there're just two different versions of them.

Anyway, around the time I was getting into Mandela Catalogue, my friends were talking about their SPTO ocs, and even tho the only context I had for the Scott Pilgrim media was the movie, I was like "Hey that sounds cool I wanna join" and my friends were like, "DO IT." so I ended up thinking about what I wanted to do. Anyway, then I made the Mandela Catalogue oc, and I was like "What if I used this design for my Scott Pilgrim OC?"

Their first design was then a human that just had a really wide smile and slightly too small pupils, BUT THEY WERE STILL HUMAN.

Then I started talking to my friends about them, and they started asking questions like, "Does he ever blink?" And to be funny, I said, "No." And it spiraled from there.

Their Mandela Catalogue design, vs first Scot Pilgrim design vs how I draw them now:

And that's everything for now! Maybe I'll upload some of the little comics I've drawn at some point.

#art #sketch #oc backstory #oc lore #Static Lore #spto oc

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

hand writing fic in my notebook as all fun and games until i have to decipher my handwriting to type it up 

#i was gettting real sloppy today

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

12, 19, 22, 23

Thanks for the ask! :) Someone else asked me 12, 19 and 22 as well, so this is for both of you.

The unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them:

Emeldir! It’s not that she’s unpopular, exactly. She’s just a female character in the Silmarillion, and she doesn’t appear very often at that, so all of this gets her thoroughly ignored. But I think she’s fascinating and I wish more people talked about her. (Goodness knows fans devote plenty of time and attention to male characters more obscure than she is.) I wrote a longer post about her here. There needs to be more about Emeldir!

Speaking of obscure characters—not unpopular per se, just obscure—I feel like people should pay WAY more attention to Miaulë. We need to talk about Miaulë. I love him. I’m obsessed with him. I will not rest until the whole world loves him as much as I do. I have a similar soft spot for Tevildo, and I’ve even tried justifying his inclusion in the later mythology. Which goes double for Miaulë. All hail Miaulë!

You’re mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

I don’t really feel shame—I just enjoy things! But horrified? That’s different! Once I stayed up until literally 4am deciphering a manuscript from the LOTR movies written in the mode of Beleriand (but in English, it’s not like I actually know Elvish). Keep in mind that I didn’t read the mode of Beleriand at the time—I’m way more comfortable with the Sindarin mode and I’m alright with the Quenya mode—and I was like, “Oh, this page is in the mode of Beleriand! Well, that won’t stop me!” And I chose the middle of the night to do this?! Anyway, AFTER all that, I found a link to the transcription. But it was a fun challenge.

AND THEN I decided to read this other manuscript in the mode of Beleriand, Thorin’s letter to Bilbo (this one was written by Tolkien himself). It was even harder, because not only is it in tengwar, not only is it in the mode of Beleriand, the handwriting is also very difficult in parts AND the spelling is weird. I had so much fun. And then I was like, “What the fuck is wrong with me?” (Note: I didn’t read it with a copy of the letter in English to refer to. Oh, no. That would have been too sane.)

This was in 2020. I’ve only gotten worse since then.

Another time someone asked me, “There seem to be a lot of twins in Tolkien’s books—are there more twins in Middle-earth than in the modern world?” And then I, myself a twin, determined to answer this question definitively, made an Excel spreadsheet of all named Tolkien characters and what percentage of them are twins, and I found that the number of twins in Tolkien is about the same as we have now, or lower, depending on which characters you count. But it’s not higher! So now we know.

Another time I saw a post saying, “But are we SURE that all of Tolkien’s male Elves had long hair?” So I opened my PDF of LOTR and did a word search for “hair” and looked at all the examples. And then I opened my PDF of the entirety of HOME and did another word search for “hair” (there were over 400 mentions) and also “locks” and other synonyms, and then I looked at EVERY SINGLE ITERATION in order to prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tolkien’s male Elves have long hair. Because I’m insane, but I’m also right.

Another time I spent literally hours trying to calculate how long it would have taken Fingon to reach Angband on foot when he set out to rescue Maedhros, depending on how far he travelled each day, etc. We’re talking actual math here. Measuring distances on the map of Beleriand. Entering different variables. I was very dedicated.

Am I normal? No. Do I feel shame? Also no. Do I sometimes horrify myself nonetheless? Yes I do.

Your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores:

I love this question. It’s hard to answer because I have so many favorite parts of canon that most people ignore. (Like the entirety of the Lays of Beleriand.) Admittedly, whether this is part of canon is debatable because it’s from the Book of Lost Tales, but I absolutely love this part. For context, Ælfwine and his companions had been looking for Valinor for years and had almost given up hope of ever finding it, and then this happens:

Then none spoke for wonder and amaze, seeing deep in the gloaming of the West a blue shadow, and in the blue shadow many glittering lights, and ever more and more of them came twinkling out, until ten thousand points of flickering radiance were splintered far away as if a dust of the jewels self-luminous that Fëanor made were scattered on the lap of the Ocean… Then came there music very gently over the waters and it was laden with unimagined longing, that Ælfwine and his comrades leant upon their oars and wept softly each for his heart’s half-remembered hurts, and memory of fair things long lost, and each for the thirst that is in every child of Men for the flawless loveliness they seek and do not find. 

It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to read this without getting chills, or without it bringing tears to my eyes. The blue shadows? The lights? The music? The flawless loveliness they seek and do not find? Tolkien captures such a bittersweet feeling in this passage that it’s actually excruciating, because we can’t go there. What happens next is that Ælfwine leaps from the ship and goes to Valinor, and his comrades never see him again. The reader, like Ælfwine‘s companions, is left behind—allowed to see the Undying Lands for just a moment, but never able to go there. The feeling I get from this is very similar to the feeling I get at the end of LOTR, when we catch a glimpse of Valinor through Frodo’s eyes—but that’s it. And even though it makes me sad, I love it so much and I wouldn’t wish that it be written any other way.

A ship you’ve unwillingly come around to:

Alcarondas. I don’t like the fact that Ar-Pharazôn tried to make war on Valinor, obviously, but the ship itself was pretty cool. (Sorry for answering this in such a chaotic way, but I couldn’t resist!)

#asks #I had fun with this one :) #my writing #Aelfwine #Book of Lost Tales #BOLT #Miaule #Emeldir

[earlronove]

The end! Cottagecore curse is all safely in a notebook instead of my head. Now I have to type it all and make it the story it's meant to be. The fun part!!

(& the horror of having to decipher my own handwriting!!)

#writeblr #writing #blackbird projects #cottagecore curse wip

[ask-eliane-m]

Alright, i’ve transcribed an entry from a diary I had when I was 6, with some serious time put into deciphering child me’s handwriting and making some adjustments to spelling and grammar, I’m ready to post it. This is the earliest surviving entry I could find that wasn’t complete gibberish or unreadable.

August 6th 1998

I got to play with Kitty today. It was fun, even if she looks a little funny now. Mama says she doesn’t want me to play near the car place anymore, she says that it’s because Kitty got hit by one and went to cat heaven. Is cat heaven different than person heaven? I told Mama I think she’s crazy, Kitty couldn’t be in cat heaven and still be playing with me. Mama just patted me on the head and apologized, she’s been acting funny, and Daddy’s been sad. I’m gonna make them a super secret present to cheer them up, then maybe Mama won’t have to go to the doctor as much.

-Ellie

Yes, I kept multiple diaries, it’s probably the least strange thing about my childhood. As you could probably gather my Mother was a frequently sick woman, in fact she passed just a year or so after this entry. I can’t be sure whether there was something supernatural going on with the cat (it was a stray in the neighborhood) it may have very well been a different animal entirely, but regardless I found this entry interesting; I don’t remember this incident… I have to attend a lecture now but i’ll update with any new information I uncover.

#Eliane A. Morrigan #Journal Entry: 1 #Journal Entry Log