#me doodling the same thing in my notebooks when i was 16 honestly

[lollytea]

Thinking about how Hunter was confirmed to be an artist in the finale with a talent for wood carving and now I really think most of the little sculptures on his shelf are ones he made himself, including the Remy doll. The idea of Golden Guard Hunter designing, carving and painting the silliest happiest little fellow just for fun is very cute to me.

#that sculpture on the top shelf of the cave monster thing with the teeth? that is so good actually. he was very talented even before Del #also..... #maybe im just a very gay woman but.... #that one on the second shelf on the far right #👀 #ok teenage boy you make whatever art you want i wont say anything #me doodling the same thing in my notebooks when i was 16 honestly

[d4rkwr1t3s]

Three Written Loves Chapter 5

Romoxiety and Intruloceit soulmate au where you are given a notebook to communicate with your soulmates at 16. You cannot say your name, address, place of school/work, number, etc.

Tw: Anxiety/Depression, ignoring one's own health, if I need to tag anything else let me know

Chapter is in Patton’s POV with mentioned Prinxiety

Fonts/Colors for the chapter from Google Docs: Virgil’s- Pacifico purple last dot  Roman’s- Pinyon Script red 4th dot Patton’s- Amatic SC Blue dot 3

V: You got more little hearts princey

V: Princey?

V: Oh right you’re driving. Talk to you soon

The entire ride Patton had been doodling little hearts near Roman’s more finished pieces. He tried to ignore the twin’s bickering and the writing from the purple writing. He was still very anxious to say anything to them just yet. However, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by being picked up once more.

Patton yelped in surprise and quickly latched onto the twin that picked him up. He huffed at both twin’s laughter. “That’s not funny.”

“It is a little funny,” Roman teased a little as he walked them both inside, “again Remus has your stuff, aside from the notebook that is.”

“No, not yet,” Patton answered honestly.

Patton blushed a little at the teasing tone of his notebook, “yeah..”

“Do your soulmates know?”

“You’re welcome!” Roman flourished before setting Patton down on what would become his bed, “I’ll be right back! Make sure to tell your soulmates!” He yelled while leaving the room.

“You should probably tell them.”

“I will.”

“Good. I’ll set you down in bed then get you some ice and medication for your ankle. When mama gets home I’ll have her check out your ankle just in case. Good?”

“Yeah. That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

Patton sighed softly and watched the current ink, waiting for a response from Roman to appear.

Ro: I just saw! Yeah I was driving me, my brother, and my new friend home. I’m getting them an icepack at the moment

V: Ice pack?

Ro: Yeah, looks like a sprained ankle. Dunno where they got it from tho which is worrying. Going to get mom to check it out later

V: Damn. Hopefully it’ll be alright

Ro: I’m sure it will be. I just want to know more about our mystery third and when I could find out where you’re goin

V: When they’re ready they’ll talk to us and I’ll get there when I get there and I can’t tell ya that princey. You gotta guess

Ro: Dumb rules. Homophobic if you ask me

V: Pretty sure it’s the same rules for everyone

Ro: Still homophobic

V: Whatever you say. You go take care of your guest. I’m not going anywhere

Ro: Will do! Will also keep you updated!

V: You better. Ttyl princey

Their conversation ended with a small red heart. Patton smiled at the small red heart just as Roman walked in.

“Sorry for taking so long. Didn’t want to worry my soulmate anymore than I already had,” Roman explained before moving to help elevate Patton’s ankle and set the ice carefully ontop of the ankle.

“It’s okay. I completely understand,” Patton’s tone took a fond note as he held his book close before his fond smile dropped to something sadder.

“You didn’t talk to them did you?” 

“No… I never had…”

“Why?”

“Just… family,” Patton’s shoulders dropped some as his grip tightened.

Patton took a deep breath but flipped to the back. The blank page glared at him but with another deep breath he doodled a small paw print.

“Well I don’t think that should stop you now. They’re probably very worried about you.”

“If they think I exist.”

“I’m sure they do. At least attempt? Even if it’s a simple hi?”

“Can I just doodle instead?”

“Sure! Just try it. I have to go do a few things. You’ll be okay here?”

“Yeah. Thanks Ro.”

“You’re welcome! I’ll check on you soon!” Roman smiled at him before leaving him alone once more.

Pat: Hi

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #creativity sanders #anxiety sanders #patton sanders #Morality sanders #prinxiety #royality #romoxiety #moxiety #d4rkwr1t3s

[captaindwobbit]

An Unexpected Family - Chapter Two

Word count: about 2823

Warning: Talks about death, the military

Read the previous chapter here: https://captaindwobbit.tumblr.com/post/625828977843519488/an-unexpected-family-chapter-one or on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532368/chapters/59508406#workskin 

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Monday September 1st, 2014

It took ages for the first day of school to roll around. School was hell, everyone looked at her like she was a sick shelter puppy. Maybe she was, Ninnith wasn’t sure anymore. The prospect of seeing Uncle Thorin again helped her through it, but just barely. It  would’ve been nice to spend the first day of school without the pitying glances. At least she was in Kíli’s class. The new English teacher, Miss Baggins, also seemed very nice. She was also the only teacher who had treated her like a normal person, which Ninnith greatly appreciated. Miss Baggins was also going to be their form teacher for the year.

The rest school day had been uneventful, though, and she told Dís as much when the woman asked Ninnith how her day went. Kíli was more enthusiastic, though, so excited he started talking with his mouth full during dinner, much to his mother’s annoyance. “We have a new form teacher, Miss Boggins. She teaches English and wears vests like headmaster Gandalf sometimes does. It’s like she’s wearing a uniform, like us, which is considerate of her.”

Ninnith rolled her eyes and swallowed her food before speaking. “Baggins, Kíli, her last name is Baggins.” “Same difference”, the boy grumbled, and he stuck out his tongue. The obvious more mature one out of the two, Ninnith rolled her eyes once more and decided to flick a mushroom at him when Dís turned her back to them to start cleaning up. If the woman noticed, then she didn’t show it. “You’ve been awfully silent, Fíli, is something up?” she asked her son.

Fíli looked up from where he was frowning at his food as if it had personally offended him. “What?” Kíli and Ninnith shot each other a Look before turning to the blonde in unison. “Is it a girl?” Kíli asked, beaming. Fíli growled and bumped his elbow into Kíli’s ribs. “No!” he exclaimed, voice cracking a little. It had begun to do that a lot lately, now that Fíli was 15. “It’s not a girl. There’s this new kid in our class, Ori. I tried to talk to him, but he just turned red, sputtered and then ran away.” The teen scratched the back of his head, frown not leaving his face. “He skipped a year, or so I’ve heard, and I figured he could use a friend. Guess not.” “Hmm, Ori… Think I’ve heard that name before” Dís mused from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m sure he’s just a bit socially awkward, it was nice of you to try to talk to him. Don’t just give up on him, okay? I’m sure he’d like a friend.” Fíli got up from his seat with a shrug and put his plate and utensils in the dishwasher. “I’ll try, but I won’t go chasing him if he runs off again.”

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After dinner, Kíli and Ninnith sat on the couch to look at the homework they’d gotten and check out their textbooks. At least, that was what Ninnith was doing, Kili was just doodling on the front page of the notebook. Ninnith peeked over from where she was working, and saw that he’d drawn himself fighting a dragon with the text “Kíli’s Math Notes” on top of it. The girl snorted at the drawing. “I like your pencil sword.” “Sharpened pencils are dangerous”, Kíli said sternly, “I still have a scar in my palm from when you stabbed me with one.” Rolling her eyes, Ninnith went back to look at the list of books Miss Baggins had given them. “I was 5, and I’ve already apologized for that so many times. Which book are you going to read for the upcoming assignment?” Her friend shrugged a little, looking over at the list in her hands. “The thinnest. Books and I don’t mix well.” Ninnith sighed and bumped his shoulder. “We used to read together all the time when we were kids.” She knew Kíli was dyslexic, but Ninnith wasn’t going to let it bring him down. “So what if you read a bit more slowly than the rest? Miss Baggins even put fun books on the list, too!” “I’ll see, we still have time.” Kíli mumbled, going back to drawing, and Ninnith knew the conversation was over. She didn’t plan on completely letting it go, though. Kíli just needed some motivation.

“Are you looking forward to Uncle Thorin coming over?” Ninnith asked, deciding to change the subject. The brunet sat up to look at her, face split into a wide grin. “You bet your ass I am! I haven’t seen him in nearly over a year. Well, physically. Hope nothing bad’s happened to him, though.” Ninnith took the brown strand of hair her friend was nearly eating and tucked it behind his ear. He’d started growing his hair after he’d stumbled of pictures of Uncle Thorin as a teenager. He’d looked like a different person, with his piercings and long hair. Still handsome, of course, Ninnith had to  admit, and a bit like a mix of Fíli and Kíli. Kíli had started talking about getting his eyebrow pierced, but his mother had protested at that. She’d told him they could talk about body modifications again when he was 16. Kíli had just shrugged and agreed. “Your Mum said he wasn’t injured, so there’s that. Maybe you can ask him to come with you to get a second hole pierced.” Then a conversation about weird body modifications followed, and they got lost in watching YouTube videos about them until Dís told them it was time for bed.

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Friday September 5th, 2014

Ninnith was nervous. She hadn’t seen Uncle Thorin in several years. The girl didn’t really know how he would react to seeing her in his sister’s house. She herself still felt like a bit of an intruder at times. It was one thing to be close to a family, and another to live with them. The sound of the doorbell ringing interrupted her train of thought, and Kíli shot up from where he was sitting next to her on the couch to go open the door. Fíli shook his head at how his brother jumped over the back of the couch – something their mother had told them not to do – and followed his brother at a calmer pace. Ninnith could hear the door opening and Dís greeting her brother. Then Fíli and Kíli’s voices filled the hallway. All right, she could do this. Taking several deep breaths, she got off the couch and walked over to the hallway. The blonde was just about to step into the hallway when Thorin nearly bumped into her, and she scolded herself for having waited too long to go. It had only felt like seconds!

“Oh, hello, I’m Thorin”, the man fumbled a bit awkwardly, and it honestly made Ninnith feel better to know she wasn’t the only socially challenged person in the room. “Uhh, not sure if you remember me, it’s been a long time.” "Yes, I remember you, " Ninnith took a smiled slightly, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss the tall man on the cheek. "uncle Thorin." The man's shoulders visibly relaxed, and his eyes glossed over. Oh no, he couldn't cry. If he started crying, then Ninnith would too. She'd always had issues with that sort of thing. Blue eyes focusing on Ninnith’s green ones, he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly. “Who wants food?” Dís yelled from the kitchen, breaking the rather awkward silence. Thorin had looked like he wanted to say something, but Fíli and Kíli both ran to the kitchen, and the tension was broken. Dinner looked delicious, Dís’ lasagna had always been one of Ninnith’s favourites. The blonde girl filled her plate while Kíli bombarded his uncle with questions, talking so quickly it was amazing the man understood at all. If she was honest, she was zoning out while eating until she heard Kíli ask how long Thorin was staying. “I’ll start looking for apartment next week, but I’m going to stay here for a while”, their uncle replied before finishing the last bite of his garlic bread. Kíli positively beamed at that – the teen was looking forward to spending time with his uncle. “Uncle, why did you come back? You haven’t said, and Mum won’t tell us.” Thorin smiled and grabbed some more garlic bread. “I decided it was time for me to be with my family more often.” The dark-haired man met Dís’ equally blue eyes at those words, the smile not leaving his face. There was something sad in his eyes, though, Ninnith noticed. It was the same look Dís got sometimes, when she thought no one could see her. Ninnith finished up her food and patted her stomach. “Wow, I’m so full, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat for the next few days.” She got up and quickly put her plate in the dishwasher. “Hey Fíli, could you maybe come help Kíli and I with our maths homework? There’s this one question we just can’t solve.” Kíli frowned a bit, he hadn’t really talked with his friend about maths yet. He was used to Ninnith’s schemes, though, so he didn’t say anything. His brother just looked confused. “Really? We have all weekend, does it need to be- ow!” Fíli turned to glare at his brother, who’d just kicked him under the table. “Okay, if it’s that urgent…” “Great, thanks Fee. Dinner was absolutely delicious, Dís, thank you!” And with that, all three of the teens left the room and headed upstairs.

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“Okay, so what was all that about?” Fíli asked once they’d made it to the boys’ bedroom, arms crossed over his chest. “Uncle Thorin obviously has to talk to your Mum about something, so I’m giving them some time.” She ran a hand through her hair and sat down on Fíli’s desk chair, spinning around. “They could’ve done so after we all went to bed. You didn’t have to lie about homework.” The older teen grumbled and walked over to the chair, grabbing it to keep it from spinning. “And stop spinning my chair like that, you’ll break it.” Ninnith tilted her head back to look at him, smiling a little. “So grumpy! What happened to our fun-loving Fíli?”  The older teenager glared at her at first, but then her smirked. “I’ll show you fun-loving!” Fíli reached over and started tickling the girl’s sides. That would teach her not to antagonize someone who knew all her ticklish spots! Kíli cleared his throat from where he was sitting on his bed, and lifted up his maths notebook. “We actually do have maths homework. I don’t know about her, but I need help with this. You two can continue that-” The brunette waved a hand in Ninnith and Fíli’s general direction, “when you’re done helping me.” Fíli instantly took his hands off of Ninnith and she would’ve fallen off if he hadn’t reached out to steady her. Her face was red and her hair a mess, but she still sent a fierce glare his way. The taller teen just grinned at her and went over to Kíli to help him.

Ninnith decided to leave them to it and go to her own room to read reviews on the books on Miss Baggins’ reading list. It was quite the list, and it a lot of fiction novels, which delighted the girl. She was used to having stuffy English teachers who would only allow non-fiction or incredibly boring fiction (it’s not that she hated Jane Austen, but her books were just so tedious to read). She was, however, finding it difficult to decide between the numerous books, two of them being Great Expectations and Ninety Eighty Four. She hadn’t read either of them, despite them being classics. Schindler’s Ark/List had been briefly considered, but Ninnith had decided she wasn’t quite in the right headspace for that book right now. Maybe in the second term. Then there was of course The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, which had been a pretty good book, but one she’d never written a report on. It would save her time, but she didn’t want to be a lazy student. Ninnith wanted to impress Miss Baggins. After about half an hour of reading reviews, she decided to slip on her pyjamas and get comfortable on the bed. Opening YouTube, she scrolled mindlessly through her feed and clicked on a random video. The girl didn’t really care what she watched, as long as it distracted her. After watching YouTube for what could’ve been twenty minutes or two hours, Ninnith drifted off to sleep.

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When she awoke, her room was completely dark and her mouth felt like she hadn’t drank any water in about a year. Tiptoeing on bare feet, she made her way downstairs, cringing whenever the old stairs creaked. Perhaps the sound of the gentle rain tapping on the windows would mask the sound. Ninnith got to the kitchen, and was surprised to find it already occupied. “Oh, hi uncle Thorin”, the girl whispered to the dark-haired and tired looking man. “Just wanted to grab a cuppa before heading back to bed.” The man didn’t react much, he just nodded. In the harsh kitchen light, the bags under his eyes were more defined. The silence was deafening, yet was harshly interrupted when Ninnith opened the cabinet to grab the box of chamomile tea. “Want some?” She turned her head to look at her not-quite-Uncle, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding. Ninnith prepared the two cups of tea, the only sounds in the kitchen the clanking of tea cups when she set both of them down on the kitchen table. She froze first at the scraping noise the kitchen chair made when she pulled it out, but sat down after a few seconds. The teen carefully picked up her cup and blew on it. At least she had something to do with her hands that way. Ninnith tapped on the cup to keep herself from saying anything. Her cup soon became half-empty, and not a word had been spoken. “Do you want to talk about it?” The teen asked softly after a few more moments of silence. Thorin’s head shot up from where he’d been staring at his own mug, as if he only just remembered someone else was in the room with him. “Talk about what?” No, Ninnith wasn’t having any of that. She was young, yes, but not oblivious. “The real reason you came back home. The reason you’re not in bed right now.” Blue eyes stared into Ninnith’s own green ones, but she didn’t budge. She’d had years of practice with Kíli and his moods. Thorin finally sighed and ran a hand over his face. “It’s not something someone your age should worry about.” The girl huffed and took a sip of tea before replying. “Someone my age shouldn’t have to worry about their parents dying, yet here I am.” The man’s eyes went a little wide at that, but Ninnith just shrugged and offered a sad smile. “Doctor Peredhel says talking about things helps you process them.” Thorin didn’t ask who Doctor Peredhel was, and she appreciated it. It was true, though. Talking to the therapist had helped a lot, he also never pushed her. “Being in the military, you see things. A lot of things no one – even adults – should see.” He grasped his cup with both hands but didn’t lift it. Instead he stared down at it. “I saw too many people die, and then I heard about Bel- about your parents.” Thorin’s voice was rough with emotion, but Ninnith didn’t dare move or interrupt. A lump was suddenly stuck in her throat. “I had to come home.” That seemed to be all he was willing to say. And that was okay, really, Ninnith wasn’t here to pry. She also didn’t quite want to know the details. The teen put her cup down and placed her hands on Thorin’s, which were now gripping his own cup too tightly. “Well, I for one am glad you’re here, Uncle. And I know everyone else is, too.” She squeezed the man’s hands and finished the rest of her tea in one gulp. “But if you do need someone to talk to, I could give you Doctor Peredhel’s card. He’s easy to talk to.” Thorin didn’t say anything, but she could tell he was thinking. Her ‘good night’ was answered distractedly and it made Ninnith frown. She hoped Thorin would accept her offer, or at least talk to someone. It would perhaps get rid of the haunted look in his eyes. Once in bed, she lay staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours before finally falling into a restless sleep.

Read the next chapter here:to be added

#an unexpected family #captaindwobbit an unexpected family #CaptainWrites #WritingDwobbit #DwobbitWrites #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit modern au #thorin oakenshield #fili and kili #fili #kili #dis of erebor #dis

[leviathiane]

SHOW US YOUR WROR RAW UNPROCESSED WHOLE GRAIN ORGANIC NOTES

this is going to be a long-ass post i am so sorry to Everyone! i take a lot of notes.

So, as You specifically know (as well as all of my lovely Soggers) I take a LOT of notes. Obsessively. I write fucking everything bc i have very little memory and very much paranoia. This results in literal Piles of notes. Raw planning, on paper, on my phone– doodles of scenes im brainstorming, bulletpoints, entire SCRIPTS– it’s all there but scattered (I’ve got scenes planned in the margins of my goddamn anthropology notes and deciphering it was a NIGHTMARE) 

I won’t even upload all the photos of my writing notebook, because itd be like 50 pages of illegible nonesense. but heres a couple of planning phase pages. (may be hard to read, I dropped this notebook both into some tidepools, into a creek on campus, and accidentally leaked my waterbottle onto it in my backpack :/) 

if you can’t tell already, yes they all look exactly like this. Some are even more illegible, because I wrote them with the notebook half under my actual class notes. Because i wrote most of them in class. During lectures. And pretending very badly that i was not doing exactly that. (pay attention in class please i got away with this bc i was filling up elective units) 

I’m also flat out MISSING a large portion of my notes bc some of it? isnt even in the damn notebook. its on a sheet of binder paper, or on the empty back of an assignment. I’ve now lost most of those notes, but the ones i do still have are just as (even more, actually) indecipherable chicken scratch: 

Wow, how clean and tidy and easy to follow! i am in hell. 

and this doesnt mention the PAGES and PAGES of outlines that are on my laptop, and the pages of outlined scenes that are on the notes app of my phone. if i put them all, you would have entire chapter spoilers up to the very end of the story so i cant post a lot of them– and also theres just a goddamn lot of them. currently i have 16 pages of outlining. There are no spacing breaks. It is a solid 16 page block of text. Looking at it gives me a migraine. 

some assorted notes which i have dredged up from the deleted parts of the main draft google doc go all the way back to when i started Wror in June and they are Barely more readable than my handwriting on sheer account of: articulation is not my strength. These include: 

“Ch 8 plan: sabo gets trained specially, awakens his armament haki, beats ace in a bunch of spars and proves himself to be anything but vulnerable. The boys are like “we fucking recognize that technique ryu taught you before us!!” and goad ryu into finally starting them both on basic haki training, just to awaken it, since sabo already has. Also this is the chapter that ace finally confronts ryu for his devil fruit after ryu confirms that some devil fruit users can’t be hurt without haki and ace immediately catches onto that and tries to slam his pipe through ryus head. It doesn’t work, ryu catches the weapon with a haki covered hand, to avoid turning to flame with hit and ace just gets frustrated and accuses ryu of hiding his devil fruit, because he remembers what he saw in grey terminal and that now that he has seen haki he can distinguish it from what he saw and he’s sure no one could do what ryu did. He calls ryu a hypocrite for coddling them even after telling them to stop coddling sabo and ryu has to sit them down and explain that yes he does have powers and he has been hdiing it and explains his reasoning. However instead of understanding th eboys just get fired up and say they don’t wnt to be scared of fire, especially not when it means ryu isn’t taking them seriously in a spar. Ryu finally agrees to start them on desensitization training for fire trauma. Fire desensitization training happens on the beach, so that they have water nearby in case things get out of hand. At some point ace gives ryu a considering look and is just like “if you have a devil fruit that means you can’t swim either right?” and ryu is basically just like “lmao yeah” and then ace immediately attempts to drown him. Lots of murder attempts in ace’s department toget his older brother to be less of an idiot with little success lol(extra: ace tried to attack ryu earlier both to confirm that ryu has a devil fruit that would force him to use haki to hide it, and because he now knows that he CAN’T hurt ryu without haki and as thus can’t beat him and make him admit he’s awake without being good at haki.)” [chapter 8] 

“Small sabo lost his hat and goggles in the incident and while he doesn’t remember having them future sabo notices he looks uncomfortable and keeps touching his hair and head. Ace yells at him for it thinking he bandaging are bothering him and that he can’t touch them but little sabo just comments that something about it feels wrong. Luffy blurts our that he had a hat, like luffy does, But he doesn’t now ace begrudgingly mentions that they can’t get a new one in town. Future sabo doesn’t even hesitate and just plops his own hat onto his younger selves head. It clearly too big for him, and almost falls over his eyes but he grins up at future sabo and is like “wow!! Thank you! I’ll take care of it till I have one of my own” and creates a paradox like Luffys own hat. The footsteps younger sabo has yet to fill. This HAS to happen AFTER the talk where they explain that future and past sabo are both the same person, to give little sabo that pressure.” [chapter 9]

“(Right after this older sabo takes them down to the ocean so that they can play a little and desensitize themselves and immediately fucks himself over when he goes weak in the water bc he somehow fucking forgot his own devil fruit again and now even younger sabo is on his case about not letting him near the fucking ocean that little goddamn HYPOCRITE—) )” [for chapter 9]

“Ch 9 plan: they finally leave dawn island. Starts with the boys getting a haircut after training and luffy mentions how long it’s been since they’ve last needed a haircut, giving sabo and ace time to point out that it’s been 2 months now since ryu joined them, and that sabo was completely healed by now. The boys are now aware of the basics of haki, and while luffy hasnt awakened either yet ace and sabo both have a little bit of weak armament haki. (sabo won’t awaken observational haki until he gets his memories back) ryu tries to sneak off into the city to steal a boat but his brothers refuse to leave him behind and keep sneaking out after him, not wanting him to go alone and saying that since he’s been training them they’re clearly stronger and he needs to let them do this. Ryu eventually just lets it go because why the fuck not it’s a dream and they make him feel better. They get the boat out on open ocean and finally fucking sail out, cheering loudly, ryu struggling to make them all calm down but also not really trying. He’s happy as shit, and they’re all so excited and happy and sabo dips a hand into the waves and then smiles so fucking wide and tackles ryu so violently they both nearly tip into the water and it’s just very very good. “ [also for ch 9] 

** I flat out dont Have any outlining from before chapter 6, because i only started actually outling chapters after that. i tend to just sit down and Write up until i hit a plot point or writers block and then am forced to actually think it through and plan rather than letting it come naturally. thats also why the quality and editing is better in later chapters despite everything being written within the same time frame. 

besides entire chapter outlines, there are the scene specific phone notes like:

“(ADDED) Right after they leave dawn, when sabo is sure they’ve gotten enough of a head start, he calls Garp. He doesn’t say who he is, but that all of the boys are safe and happy with him and has them all talk into the phone to assure him that they’re fine. Garp is honestly just pissed off he doesn’t know who’s calling and when he asks sabo just laughs and says a disobedient brat before hanging up. “

“(ADDED) TO EXPAND ON CH 3: sabo gets offered the chance to go with dragon, and he hesitates on the offer to go through with his previous life with the family he’s made in the revolutionary again. He almost agrees, because the bought of losing them in this lifetime is near excruciating but reminds himself swiftly that it’s no place for his brothers and not what they’d really want, and he wants selfishly to be with them as long as he Can until he “inevitably” wakes up. The boys are visibly relieved by this, especially ace. (Sabo gets asked who he is by dragon, who wants to know more about the stranger with his son, but dragon has always been quicker to make connections no one guessed and he just smiled knowingly at sabo and tells him he’s sure the other will have no trouble finding them if he’s in need. Sabo in turn warns him to keep Kuma close, and to look for a slave girl named koala.)”

I have…. many of these. I have Many of Everything. 

finally, i have scene doodles. if i hit a bad writers block it usually helps me to sketch scenes or the character designs to regain my grip on what the hell is happening in the plot– Breach of Intention has character design sketches, pakcbond has MANY scene sketches, even some of my nsfw has some sketches. my wror skecthes arent Good of course, I am an art teacher for children and that means i am more often explaining the color wheel and brush techniques over drawing perfect human replicas– and i just dont really make a lot of fanart? ive never drawn sabo before but i sure have a bunch now. i wont include close ups because they genuinely suck but heres an example pic 

So… yeah thats about everything. this is a VERY long post and yet i only included like maybe ¼ or 1/5 of all the notes i have dbskhjgfkjadns lmk if anyone wants more (or notes for my Other stories, which contain NO WHERE the same absurd amount of shit that wror does.)

#depths' ask #response #idk what to even tag this honestly?? this post is such a mess abhdsjfgdkjn #thanks mido love u dear 💕🎉 im gonna want some damn notes on second chances heads up #wror #wror stockpile #touchmycoat #i started this response at goddamn 3:52am and its now 4:40am #it took me. almost an HOUR #oh my god

[homosociallyyours]

2018 Fic Year in Review

I know I’m ridiculously late with this, but here we go. I was tagged (weeks ago! yike!) by @horsegirlharry -- thank you, dear!! I appreciate it <3

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3: 34! 11 of those are from the seasonal drabble fests, and 8 are short little ficlets under 1k, but that’s A LOT more than I’ve ever posted in a year before. 

2. Word count posted for the year: 118,598. I know this is nothing for a lot of folks, but this is easily double what I’ve written in the entire time I’ve had an AO3 account up til now. I have always said that it’s important to keep writing if you feel like it even if you only have a few readers, but this is change in stats is all down to people liking, commenting on, and sharing my works. It really makes a difference to have other writers rec your work and be excited about what you’re writing, so...support your fellow content creators, people! 

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting) I’m not gonna link drabbles, but they’re easy enough to find if you wanna! -Are You Gonna Be My Girl -In 36 Questions or Less -This Opening Monologue Studies Rainbows -4am -One of Those Days When You’ve Got Nothing On -I’ll Say It Everyday -Talk That Talk -I Love It When We Play 1950 -Mudpies -Just Swipe Right -Ready to Run Away -The World It Turns, No Matter What -These Days I Don’t Even Know Myself -Half of the Story -Just to See That Smile -In the Cards -Can’t Beat the Heat/Taste on Your Tongue/Cool Cool Cool -I Believe it This Time -Our Own Little French Club -I’m Half a Heart Without You, Baby -You Shine Like the Real Thing -On the Road Again With You -A Love So True You Don’t Have to Be Afraid -Our House (It’s A Very Fine House) -Are You Thorny, Baby? -When Everything is Perfect -Our Friends Keep Talkin’ About Us -The Christmas Lift -The Cold/Comfort/Christmas Cuddles -You Bring Us Together (Can’t Tear Us Apart)

4. Fandoms I wrote for: All the fic I published on AO3 was for One Direction, though I did publish a few ficlets for Sherlock (this is my favorite of those, a little parentlock featuring genderqueer Ro Watson)

5. Pairings: Harry/Louis, Liam/Zayn, Sherlock/John

6. Story with the most hits: Talk That Talk with 3531 hits

7. Story with the most kudos: The Christmas Lift with 264

8. Story with the most comments: The Christmas Lift with 22 comment threads

9. Work I’m most proud of (and why): Probably “You Bring Us Together (Can’t Tear Us Apart)” because it was ot5 and I really struggled with working out some of the plot points near the end. 

10. Work I’m least proud of (and why): None. Writing isn’t easy and I do the best that I can with everything I write :)

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: UGHHH THIS WAS TOO HARD. So eventually I gave up and picked this little bit from “Our Own Little French Club” because I love Harry’s sweet gay fantasy moment. “Maybe next semester. I requested it, anyway,” Louis said, clicking to the red ink of Harry’s four color pen and doodling in the margins of the notebook in front of her. With anyone else, Harry would’ve requested they move to a new page. But Louis? She could leave her mark wherever she liked.That thought spurred on a fantasy of Louis drawing a line up from Harry’s bare knee and under the soft fabric of her skirt, the pen skidding over her skin until Louis held it taut with her free hand. A free hand that could slide up, too. Up and--“Hazza.” Louis’ voice interrupted Harry’s reverie and she closed her eyes to clear the images from her head. “Did you hear what I asked?”

12. Share or describe a favorite review you received: The reviews on “You Shine Like the Real Thing” are my absolute favorite because a lot of people have said that they’ve struggled with what Harry struggles with in the fic--figuring out their identity and expression as they come out as LGBTQ+  As someone who struggled to find the femme identity that feels like my home, I’m glad to be able to share some of that through fiction. 

13. A time when writing was really, really hard: Always, honestly! I’m struggling with fatigue and chronic illness, and some days I just don’t have the ability or energy to focus and get words out coherently. 

14. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Writing as Louis in my 5 days of Louis series (incomplete, but the final fic is actually pretty much finished and just needs a little polish) was surprising for me, because I think it was one of the first times I wrote from Louis’ POV and I found it so comfortable.

15. How did you grow as a writer this year: I wrote longer fics than I ever had before--that’s probably the main thing. I also signed up for the big bang and am working on a fic that will end up being twice as long as the longest thing I’ve written so far, so that’s pretty big for me too! 

16. How do you hope to grow next year: I’d like to maybe set word goals for myself to meet every month and do my best to publish fic more regularly (in addition to doing challenges)

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): My beta, @statementlou, has been my number one cheerleader and inspiration, always giving me prompts when I need them and encouraging me to keep writing when I felt like walking away from something. @harryincamp has also been there for me and always supports my fics in the best ways. I’m glad we met on here!  Also, the community of writers in the 1d fandom has been such a positive influence!! I’m gonna tag a ton of people, though I’ll probably leave some people out. Basically I felt welcomed and included by so many people right from the start of joining this fandom. So. Massive thanks to: @lululawrence, @horsegirlharry, @gaycousinlarry, @fullonlarrie, @suddenclarityharry, @disgruntledkittenface, @crinkle-eyed-boo, @rosegoldhlfics, @allwaswell16, @a-brighter-yellow, and @helloamhere I KNOW I AM FORGETTING PEOPLE. FUCK!!!  

18. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: Yeah, basically writing girl direction has allowed me to bring a lot of my life to my writing. Lesbian not-dates? Femme identity issues? Definitely my life. Also my last fic of the year, the ot5 reunion fic, was set in the Bay Area, which let me use some of my experiences living here. I’ll probably do that more this year, tbh!

19. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: If you like something another writer has done, comment and subscribe to their work and don’t be afraid to message them. Most people want to talk about their work, and having people to message with when you’re struggling to feel inspired is immensely helpful. 

20. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: MY BIG BANG FIC OMG!!! It’s a girl direction AU set in a lesbian bookstore in 1970s NYC, and I’m loving writing it so far.  After that’s done, I’m thinking of tackling the Sherlock/1D crossover fic that I’ve been scheming over for a year now. It’s time!!  Beyond that...I’ve no idea! 

21. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. OK, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this thing from a lot of people in the 1d fandom, so I’m just going to tag some writers in other fandoms and folks I don’t *think* have done it. If you haven’t done it yet and want to, please do!! Tag me in so I see your answers :) 

@aprillikesthings @velvetnoodle @zooeyscigar @perpetuallyvex @ennisgarlaend @pendragoff

This was a lot of fun! Thank you for giving me the chance to look back over the year <3 I hope some other folks will do the same!!

#about me #my writing #1d #long post #text post #year in review #i am so proud of how much i've written #and how much i like what i've written

[lolgen792]

Beginning the journey

  I started journaling in 2015, kind of on a whim. I’m not even sure why I started. I just remember that my aunt took me to the store and I saw this notebook I liked with “Trust in the Lord” on it. Although I went to church with my parents and attended Sunday school, I don’t think I believed in God. But I picked up that notebook, and my journey started.

As a 16 year old, I started journaling, and for me, it’s always been a way to process. I have all these thoughts and questions, and I didn’t really have anyone super close to me at the time to ask or tell these things to. Being an avid reader, I know the power of words, and so, it’s become a special thing to have these words for my future self. 

From trust to hope to white to Van Gogh

My first journal starts off on August 19, 2015. At this point, I had recently turned 15 and the school year was just upon me. I was entering my 10th grade year. It lasts until August 7, 2016, my birthday next year. I wrote about what I wanted to be when I grow up (which I still don’t know), God, music, just reminding myself to live this one life with everything that I’ve got.

  I started a structure that I don’t think I really thought through, but it has stuck with me. I start off with a song of the day. Music is so important to me, plus it’s a great way to record your favorites. I write the day and the time and the date. Then I just write a page a day. A page isn’t too much, and depending on the notebook, it isn’t too little. 

With my first journal, I doodled all over it. But it died as I went along. My second journal, I started way later. I think I finished my first one, and by the end of it, I wasn’t as consistent. My second journal began on September 7, 2017, and it ended on August 4, 2018, after I graduated high school. The cool thing with each journal was that I utilized the inside of the cover for quotes I love or song lyrics – mostly song lyrics.

My third journal (the white journal) is one I’m proud because I really forced myself to be consistent and not miss random days, and so I wrote in this journal, every day of freshman year of college. I started on August 5, 2018, and it ended on May 9, 2019. 

Things I learned about myself

I’m constantly worried about the future

Since I was 15, I’ve been telling myself I need to get my life together

Since I was 15, I’ve wanted to start a blog

I still listen to the same core music genres

I redefined my future so many times and still what I wanted came true

I fell in love with podcasts in 2018

Quotes from me

September 19, 2015

“Don’t allow yourself wasted worries over small things you don’t love.”

Me trying to write poetry (Shoutout to The Maine for inspiration)

April 27, 2016

“Some things amplify their absence by what’s present, defining all the lines by all the nonexistent shapes, I cannot see the bigger part of this plan, but I can feel the energy of all that’s happening around me…”

October 13, 2017

“The personal statement is like the initiation before joining a society, it really makes you regret the decision.”

June 8, 2018 – Six Flags trip

“The best part was hanging out with friends, laughing, crying, chatting, yelling, running, just being plain weird at strangers. Never forget that friendship is something special.”

July 22, 2018

“I could be happier and more appreciative of where I am in life than rushing each thing because I want the next. We are so good at seeking that we forget to be right where we are.”

March 14, 2019

“While we do have a sense of agency, life happens. The world amplifies the idea that we are to make it in spite of life. But what if life’s just leading us to where we’re really meant to be?”

May 9, 2019

“But I live for the moments of laughter for those people whose presence makes me smile. A conversation with a friend. Honestly, add some good music – and the world seems a little brighter.”

Journal prompts

Write down 10 things you want to do in 10 years

Write down things you’re grateful for

Write some criteria for your dream job, future spouse, or ideal lifestyle

Write out your ideal day with all the details

Write about something that made you smile

Write about what makes you wake up everyday

Write down things that are going well

Write down some areas of your life you need to give attention to

Write down some short/long term goals

Write down some habits you want + how you will get them

Write out your fears

Write a letter to your future self

Write a letter from your future self

Write what you’ve learned today, this month, or this year

Write about your favorite song

Write about what you believe

Write about your good and bad decisions

Write about how you feel + why you feel that way

  I journal because it’s a great way to process my emotions, I record my memories, and it’s a gift to my future self. I hope you find a good notebook, pick up a cool pen, and start journaling!

  Signing off, 

Gigi

  Do you journal? Why? What do you write about? Comment below and follow the blog!

Why I Journal + Journaling Prompts Beginning the journey I started journaling in 2015, kind of on a whim. I’m not even sure why I started.

#blogging #journal #journaling #notebooks #quotes #school

[changbeanie]

closer · han jisung

genre: school au, fluff

word count: 1,528

pairings: reader x jisung

author’s note: This is seriously a throwback to the middle school days (back when stress was nonexistent). This is request is so cute, thank you so much dear anon! I need me a Han Jisung. I hope this makes your day!

Picture not mine, edit is mine

“Damn Jisung, that’s the fifth one this week. You’re so stinkin’ popular,” Felix patted Jisung’s shoulder.

“Right? That’s literally the twentieth one this month. And you still didn’t find out who did it? Either she’s a ghost, or you’re just blind,” Hyunjin said, wrapping an arm around the younger boy’s neck.

Jisung scratched his head, “I don’t know. I think they’re from the same person because the handwriting’s the same. But who could it be?” He held the notes up to his face and examined them closely. Every single day, he received a letter, written on the same stationary: a piece of yellow paper with a little sunflower on the corner.

Who are you? 

~

The bell rang, and you scurried your ass to class. It was the first period of the day, and you were beyond tired from yesterday’s drama marathon.

I should have stopped on episode 16, but I really wanted to know what happens next. Hah, what is sleep?

You scanned the classroom and noticed that Jisung and his friends weren’t there yet. Slowly, you took out your sunflower stationary and began writing.

I hope you have an amazing day today. I’m really tired because I lost many hours of sleep. It was my fault for staying up too late hehe. I also wanted to tell you that I loved your presentation yesterday. Your opinion on the article was fascinating. Who knew whales had such an impact on our lives?

-Truffles

Honestly, “Truffles” was a pretty lame pen name. In your defense, you came up with it in seventh grade, when you first started liking Jisung. Ever since high school, you’ve been dropping little notes in his locker every single day. He’s received approximately a couple hundred by now. It has occured to you that Jisung isn’t exactly the brightest kid in your class. Several times, you had dropped subtle hints like doodling sunflowers on your notebook when he asks for your notes. Or referring to the things you wrote in the letters. However, that boy was clueless. Eventually, you gave up.

Jisung and his friends walked in the classroom, and you quickly stuffed your notes back into your backpack.

“Hey Y/n, are you ready to get the test back?” Jisung asked, sitting in the seat next to you.

“Uh yea. I studied pretty hard for it. I feel at least a B,” you turned to look at him.

Hmmm. New flannel to his collection of a bajillion other flannels. Why do I even like this dork?

“Hey, do you want to grab food later? Cuz I kinda need help on literature,” he asked sheepishly.

Your eyes widened, “Yea, no problem. After school?”

“Sounds great.”

Shit.

How the hell am I going to slip the note in now? I usually do it after school.

~

During passing periods, you walked by Jisung’s locker a few times to attempt to slip the note in. However, either Jisung was there or his friends. You couldn’t risk it.

I guess he’s gonna have to miss the note today. As if he’d notice.

On the contrary, Jisung noticed. He was almost disappointed to not find a note by the end of the day. You couldn’t find the time to slip it. Since the two of you promised to meet after school, Jisung rushed to his locker instead walking with his friends.

~

“If you want to understand the transcendentalist movement, you have to put yourself in Thoreau’s shoes. So in order to understand his works, you have to imagine yourself in a cabin in the woods listening to nothing but your surroundings,” you explained, propping your legs up on the bench.

Jisung read a few lines of the poem and gave up, “But the way he words things, it’s so confusing.”

You tapped your pen on your chin, “Actually, look at it this way. The transcendentalist movement mainly focused on nature and how pure it is in comparison to industrialized world. Think of factories emitting puffs of smoke into the atmosphere. How do you feel?” 

Jisung’s face twitched, “I’d feel suffocated, and I’d be wary of breathing.”

“Exactly! So now how do you feel about nature?” you continued.

“I’d cherish it a lot more. And try my best to preserve it as well as tell other people about it,” he responded, nodding in agreement.

You clapped, “Right, now read his poem again. Then you’ll feel some sort of understanding and connection.” You handed him the text again.

Jisung reread the lines of the poem and smiled, as if an epiphany came to him. You smiled, knowing that you had done a great job at teaching him. You leaned your head on your hand and started staring at him. Just for a bit, because he was being so flipping adorable.

“This makes sense now! Thank you so much!” he grabbed your arm and shook it vigorously.

“Woah there boy,” you chuckled, “Annotate, or else you’ll forget it tomorrow.”

Jisung shook his head, “No, no. I can’t forget it.” He reached in his black backpack and shuffled around to find a pen. You noticed a couple of your letters fall out.

“Hey, what are these?” you asked him, your heart beating abnormally.

Jisung looked at the notes you picked up, “Oh. I’m actually not sure. I’ve been receiving these short letter from someone with the pen name ‘Truffles’. It’s quite cute, actually. That person has been doing it for quite a while.”

“Let’s say you were to meet that person, what would you say?” you asked him softly, anticipating his answer.

“Well, I would tell her, or him, that I really appreciate these letters. This person understands me like nobody. Whenever I’m having a crappy day, or feeling shitty about myself, these letters never fail to cheer me up. And this person also tells me about their day, so it’s almost like I’m getting a little snippet of their life as well. I want to find out who ‘Truffles’ is, because slowly, they’ve become a part of my life,” he reminisced.

Your eyes got watery by the end of his mini soliloquy. You rapidly blinked your tears away and smiled.

“That’s amazing,” you held your hand to your heart which was beating erratically.

“But today, I didn’t receive a note. I wondered what happened to ‘Truffles’,” he pouted.

“You know, ‘Truffles’ probably had somewhere to go after school,” you deduced.

Jisung smiled sadly, “Yea, maybe.”

You looked at the time on your phone, “Woah, it’s six already. I think that’s enough Thoreau for a day. Are you still treating me to that meal or what?”

“Of course. You managed to cram nineteenth century poetry in my head. That’s pretty darn impressive,” he praised.

“Well, I tried my best,” you giggled. You started stuffing you things into your bag.

Jisung squinted a bit and picked out a note stuck on the edge of the zipper on your bag, “Hold on, what’s this?”

You frantically made up something, “Oh you know, one of your letters must have gotten caught on my zipper.”

He opened the note and read it, “No, I remember the messages. I know for a fact I haven’t read this one. And the bag is behind you, Y/n. There’s no way it could have gotten stuck.” Jisung didn’t believe you.

You bit your lip as your glance wavered. You were practically exposed. He was dense, but not this dense.

“Okay fine. It’s me. I’m ‘Truffles’,” you gave up and threw your hands in the air.

Jisung did a double take, “I knew it! I knew you were ‘Truffles’. I thought I was crazy, holy shit.” He continued spazzing and ranting.

“How did you know? You’re not very smart. It’s been nearly two years since I’ve done this,” you laughed. 

I wonder if he kept all of them.

“Because every day you walk by my locker to get to your locker. But today, I beat you to it. And coincidentally, I didn’t receive your letter.”

“Okay, so I’m exposed. You caught me. What now?” you said, trying to play it cool. On the inside, however, you were a jittery mess.

His eyes bore into yours. Suddenly, he pulled you into a hug. He muffled his face in your hair, taking in the scent of apples and berries. Jisung’s embrace was warm, and his arms fit snugly around your smaller frame. You slowly closed your eyes and squeezed him back. It was as if the world stopped spinning, and everything was centered on you. You waited four years for this. You were hugging your first love.

Jisung’s mind was swimming with thoughts of relief, anticipation, and gratitude. He gently pulled away and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you, Y/n. For being in my life.”

~

“Do you ever keep all of the notes I sent you?” you asked, swinging Jisung’s entwined hand back and forth.

He scoffed, “My drawer at home is completely filled. So I have to put them in my backpack now.”

You chuckled, “Sorry about that. I went a little overboard.”

Jisung stepped in front of you, stopping your tracks.

“You’re perfect,” he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #jisung #han jisung #jisung scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop requests #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #fluff #school au #mine #changbeanie

[hymn2000]

Freeze - MCU AU Fanfic - C19

Previous chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Story synopsis:- When a burst gas main destroys everything and leaves Peter with nothing, the Stark’s take him in. Thrown together by necessity, they then need to try to keep it together and build a new life. Devastated by loss, Peter doesn’t make things easy for them, and Loki and Tony struggle with their own grief and the responsibility of having someone completely dependant on them.

Chapter description:- Life takes another turn as the rest of Peter’s classmates rejoin the class after their trip

Story warnings/themes: character death, hurt/comfort, trauma, grief, depression/mental health issues, bullying, corporal punishment

Relationships: Frostiron (Loki x Tony) (romantic), Tony and Peter (platonic), Loki and Peter (platonic)

From the same AU as Called To Be A Rock

Chapter 19 - And They Call Themselves Friends

-

True to his word, Peter slept most of the weekend. He was wiped out, physically and emotionally. Malaki hadn’t been back on Friday, so he had another tired, lonely day at school. Taking his school uniform off on Friday after school felt great. He flopped down on his bed and slept soundly until 9am on Saturday. He got up and had something to eat and went down to the lab with Tony, but by 1pm his head was nodding and Tony told him to go and have a lie down.

On Sunday, Tony was out, so Thor came round to keep an eye on him, which was easy work, as the boy was asleep for the most part. 

It ended up feeling like a bit of a wasted weekend, and Monday morning came as a bit of a shock. Peter hid under the covers, hoping that if he was found all hot and sweaty, and if he put on a croaky voice, Tony might let him stay home. All the kids who had been on the Spanish trip were going to be back today. Peter just knew they’d all be Nigel’s and Wendy’s, and he wasn’t prepared to deal with that. He wasn’t strong enough.

-

His plan of pulling a sickie didn’t work. Tony just shook his head and said; “Nice try”, and made him get up and get ready for school anyway. 

“The rest of your class will be back, won’t they?” Tony said. “You should be able to settle into the routine a bit better now”

Peter didn’t bother telling him that that was exactly why he was dreading going. He decided he’d just have to grin and bear it - but he didn’t feel much like smiling.

-

Peter sat on the end of the front right hand row in the form room, pretending to be really interested in his white board. The classroom was already fuller than last week, and the new voices and noisy chatter were most off-putting. He fiddled with a dry-erase marker, picking at the sponge on the top of the cap. He had horrible heart palpitations. He was just waiting for one of these new voices to start scoffing about Common Muck with Scholarships.

-

Three girls entered the form room, arms linked, talking together. The girl in the middle stopped, spotting Peter. 

“Oooh, new kid” she said, glancing to either friend. “He’s cute, don’t you think?”

One of the other girls laughed. “You really have no filter. Well, go and say hello then!”

The girl unlinked herself from her friends, jumping forward, planting her hands on the desk in front of Peter, making him jump.

“Hi! You’re new, aren’t you? I’m Millie!” she looked over her shoulder at her friends. “That’s Florence and Macy”

“It’s Flo” Florence said. “Everyone calls me Flo”

Peter blinked at them, unsure how to react to their sunny, friendly personalities. A voice behind him piped up:

“That’s Peter. He doesn’t talk much”

“Oooh” Millie tapped the white board on the desk. “Is that why you’ve got this?”

Peter nodded, and jumped again as Ms Hathersage appeared.

“Quiet now, you lot! You have exactly four minutes until the bell, and I want absolute silence”

No one else seemed phased by her. Flo tapped Peter’s desk.

“This is our row”

Peter’s heart beat faster. This was it. They’d turn on him now.

“I always sit at the end” Flo said. “Do you mind moving up one?” 

“Honestly Flo, you are so particular sometimes” Macy said, scooting past the back of Peter’s chair and taking the seat at the other end of the row, up against the wall. 

Millie sat next to Macy, and patted the chair beside her. Peter obediently moved over, and Flo took his place. She smiled gratefully at him.

“Thank you” she put her bag down, and spotted Peter’s satchel. “Oh wow, I love your bag! It’s brand new, isn’t it? Where ever did you get it?”

“Flo! Stop badgering him!” Millie laughed. “Ignore her, Peter. She’s got about a million bags already - she doesn’t need to copy you”

“Amelia, quiet now” Ms Hathersage said, and started to take the register.

“She thinks I talk too much” Millie whispered to Peter. “Flo talks lots more than I do, though” 

“Amelia, I’ve already asked you once!”

Millie put a hand up in apology, but as soon as Ms Hathersage’s back was turned, she rolled her eyes. Peter smiled slightly. He liked her.

-

Peter did worry that they were all just being polite, but when the bell rang, Millie and Flo linked arms with him while Macy danced ahead. In Geography, they insisted that he joined them on their table, and Mr Tucker didn’t object. 

Peter felt almost comfortable. These girls were kind, and they didn’t act weirdly about him not speaking. They included him in their conversation and gossiped about the teachers and other students. 

Peter looked at them.

Millie was definitely the leader of the pack. She was a conventionally attractive girl, with shoulder-length dark brown, almost black hair, with sparkling green eyes in her round face. She radiated confidence. 

Flo was definitely the most attractive of the group. She was sweet and bubbly, with porcelain skin and long blonde, almost white hair all the way down her back. She seemed happier daydreaming and doodling in her notebook than paying attention in lessons.

Macy was a bit of a mix. She was calm and collected in class, a little mad outside of it, and she knew exactly how to manage her friends. She had short, medium-brown hair, mostly covered by a headband. She seemed distracted, somehow, but happy.

Peter thought they were all very real people.

-

The three waited at the end of the lesson, making sure Peter didn’t get left behind. They all sighed in an exaggerated fashion as soon as they’d left Mr Tucker’s classroom.

“Thank God for that! I hate Geography more and more every day” Millie said, linking Peter’s arm.

“Me too” Flo said, linking Peter’s other arm. 

“What? Geography’s a laugh - it’s the teacher that’s the problem!” Macy said, prancing ahead.

Peter suddenly realised that she might be a show-off. She seemed to perform her part of the conversation as they went down the corridor, spinning on her toes and clapping and somehow managing to never crash into anyone. 

Peter decided he might like her best. 

“Hey, Peter!” Macy said, stopping suddenly. “Have you had the bagels yet?”

Peter blinked at her.

“Aww, no way! You must try one: they’re the best! I’ll buy today, ok?”

Peter nodded. He didn’t see the need to protest.

-

Macy went off to join the queue in the dining hall, while Millie and Flo took Peter over to a round table at the back of the hall by the coffee machine. He still felt a little nervous. These girls all had big personalities, and he still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were just taking pity on him. 

“So, why have you joined in the middle of the term?” Flo asked. 

Peter didn’t really want to share his story with them. Still, he got out his whiteboard. 

I moved house and my old school was too far away to keep going to. 

Flo nodded. “Oh, right. That’s a bit rubbish”

Peter nodded slightly. Millie smiled at him.

“Are you cold? You’re shaking”

He didn’t want to tell her that he was scared, so he just nodded.

“Aww. You’ll warm up after you’ve eaten”

At that moment, Macy appeared and handed them all cheese and tomato bagels. 

“The food here is great, trust me” she said, taking a seat. 

Peter didn’t feel hungry, but didn’t want to seem rude, so he took a bite when the others did. He was pleasantly surprised. These bagels really were good. He was quite content sat back eating and listening to the girls talking. 

Once he’d finished, he wrote them a question.

Are you all boarders?

Millie shook her head. “Flo and I live with our families not too far away from here. Macy boards though, don’t you, Mace?”

Macy looked up from filing her nails. “Yes, I live Bay Laurel. That’s the girls house. I go home during the holidays though. What about you? Are you boarding?”

I live with my guardians

“I wish I did” Macy said. “But they live in Canada. It would be a long daily commute”

How long have you been boarding for?

“Since I was six. I was at the sister school, and then I moved into Bay Laurel when I was ten, going on eleven. I had some friends moving up with me, so that was nice. We helped each other pack and it made the move easier”

“I used to board” Flo said. “When I was really little, I went to a boarding school a few states over. But it didn’t work out, so father brought me over to St Hendricks so I was closer to home”

“Well” Millie said. “I’m glad I don’t board. We all know the boarding master in Scotts-Pine has a cane”

“Don’t get into trouble and it’s not a problem” Macy said, grinning. “I love how you say it like your father doesn’t own one! Peter? What are you looking so worried about?”

Peter didn’t respond. He knew they might think he was weird if he started asking questions of the corporal-punishment-in-schools variety. 

“You know, I hope I’m not overstepping the mark” Macy said. “But I heard Nigel talking in the queue. He said your family are all gone and that’s why you moved here”

Peter was horrified. How did Nigel know about that? He sighed deeply, looking down at his whiteboard. Millie squeezed his hand.

“You don’t have to tell us”

Peter nodded, but decided he did. If he got it out of the way now, he wouldn’t have to do it again.

My parents both died when I was little, so I lived with my aunt and uncle. My uncle died years ago, and my aunt died in January. I couldn’t stay in Queen’s on my own, so a family friend and their partner took me in. 

Tears filled his eyes, and he looked away quickly. The girls exchanged shocked looks, and Millie took control of the situation.

“Aww, don’t cry! Oh Peter!” she hugged him tight, and he hugged her back. “How awful! I’m so sorry to hear that”

The other two joined in the hug. 

“I’m sorry for your loss. I know it’s hard” Macy said.

“It really does get easier” Flo said. “Thank you for telling us. You didn’t need to do that. We didn’t want to upset you”

Peter couldn’t help crying, not only because of what had happened, but also because these girls were being so kind to him. 

-

The three looked after Peter, getting him a drink and making him laugh to take his mind off it all. Peter appreciated their efforts, although his tears of sadness were very nearly replaced with ones of happiness. Everything that had happened with Ryan and his gang at the other school had left him so isolated and hopeless, so much so that it felt as though kindness was a thing of the past. These girls had proved that theory wrong. 

-

The girls stayed with him throughout the next two lessons, and all through lunch. His appetite still wasn’t great, but Millie introduced him to the pasta queue, and somehow a bowl of pasta and cheese was all he needed. He’d never known it taste so good.

Peter had to see Miss Marns in fourth period, but they came and found him just before fifth so they could go together.

“This is literally a dream come true” Macy said, rereading the brief. 

“Snakes don’t often feature in my dreams” Millie said. “Why are we making snakes? Textiles should be dresses, skirts, maybe even bags!! Not snakes!”

“Make a snake wearing a dress then” Macy said, as though it were an obvious solution. “I’m totally tattooing mine”

“How can you tattoo something made of cloth?” Flo said. 

“By drawing them on! Honestly Flo, stop asking silly questions” she shook her head, and looked at Peter. “What are you thinking for yours?”

Glass eyes

“I don’t think there’s any in here. Maybe you can use buttons?” she said. “Are you any good at sewing?”

Peter shrugged. 

“I’m rubbish at it” Millie said. “At least, I’m rubbish at sewing machines. I can hand-sew ok”

Peter looked down at the brief. He wasn’t sure he’d be any good at sewing, and he didn’t have any ideas about how to design it. He kept thinking about Loki. A part of him wanted to make it for him, but the overwhelming reality that no one knew where he was right now was enough to stunt his idea. He sighed. 

“What about this?” Macy said, shoving an IPad under his nose. “Do you think you could make one like this? I like its little fangs”

“That snake would destroy you, given half the chance” Flo said, peering at the cobra on the screen. She took the IPad and started typing. “You want a cute snake for a toy, surely. Something like this”

She showed them a photo of a corn snake. 

“It’s got massive eyes” Millie said. “We could always use Marlin for inspiration”

Peter looked at her.

“Marlin is my brothers snake” Millie said. “It’s a ball python. I don’t see it often because it lives in his room, but sometimes we put it in the paddling pool just to watch it swim”

“It wiggles” Macy nodded. “I’m not making a boring snake. I’m having a king cobra-type tattooed snake. Can snakes have piercings? I might make a gangster snake”

She looked so serious that Peter couldn’t help but laugh. She glanced at him, and then nodded triumphantly at the other two.

“Peter likes my idea” she stuck her tongue out at them.

“Macy!” Ms Castleton snapped. “Don’t be so rude! That was very unladylike”

“Sorry, Ms Castleton” Macy said, but she crossed her fingers behind her back. 

Peter saw this, and looked at her fondly. 

“What are you staring at?” she said, and stuck her tongue out at him when Ms Castleton’s back was turned.

Peter hesitated and returned the favour. Macy grinned, moving her chair closer to his and pretending to look at his work over his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be just fine here”

-

Tony watched out of the car window as Peter was hugged goodbye. A minute later, Peter opened the passenger door and climbed into the car. 

“Hey kiddo”

Peter pulled the door closed, flopping back in his seat.

“I’ve gotta go to the shops to pick up a few bits before we go home, ok?”

Peter nodded. 

“I’ll try to be quick” 

-

Peter fell asleep in the car after they’d been to the shops. Tony was worried, as he hadn’t said a word since he’d picked him up. Sure, Peter didn’t really talk to strangers any more, and he didn’t speak at school, but he’d mostly stayed talkative with him and Loki. 

He gave him a little shake when they got back to the house, and they went to the kitchen together.

“So” Tony said, switching the kettle on. “How was school?”

Peter just shrugged.

“I saw those girls hugging you. Friends of yours?”

“Oh” Peter didn’t realise he’d been seen. “Um”

“Are they some of the people who were away on the Spanish trip?” Tony pressed.

Peter nodded. 

Tony sighed. “What’s up with you today?? Cat got your tongue?”

Peter just shrugged again. Tony sighed again, and shook his head.

“Go and get changed, and then get your homework done”

-

Peter sat doing his homework in silence. Tony gave him a poke.

“Hey, do you want a snack?”

Peter shook his head. Tony watched him working for a minute.

“Are you ok?”

Peter shook his head again. 

“Talk to me?”

Another shake of the head. Tony didn’t know what to do. He tried to give him a hug, but Peter leant away from him and wouldn’t let him. Tony sighed and left the kitchen, going downstairs and checking the post. He sighed heavily and threw the letters down on the cabinet. Nothing of importance. Still no word from Loki. It was a worrying development, or lack thereof. He didn’t know what to think.

-

Tony caught Peter on the way to his room.

“What’s the matter? You know you can talk to me”

Peter shook his head and tried to wriggle free. Tony held on tighter. 

“You can’t bottle it up forever, kiddo”

Peter pushed his hands away and darted into his room, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t in the mood for an ultimatum. 

-

Tony kept his distance for a while, but soon time was getting on, so he knocked on Peter’s door. 

“Peter?” There was no reply. “I’m coming in now”

He opened the door and found the boy fast asleep. He sighed and gave him a good shake, waking him up.

“We need to think about getting you fed”

“...’m not hungry”

Tony seized him under the arms and sat him up. 

“Oww! That hurt!”

“Sorry. Right, you need to tell me what’s going on with you” he said. “Are you just tired? Is that it?”

Peter shrugged. 

“Peter, stop being so evasive”

“I don’t want to talk to you! Leave me alone!”

“Peter-”

“No!”

“Oh fine then, be that way” Tony snapped. He checked his watch. “Ok, it’s half seven now. If you’re not in the kitchen by eight o’ clock, you’re not having any tea tonight”

-

Peter went into a sulk. He decided he didn’t care, he didn’t want to speak, and he wasn’t hungry - certainly not for anything made by the likes of Tony. 

But, sulking was hard work. He was determined not to show his face, but he started clock-watching, and at five to eight he cracked. He rushed to the kitchen and buried his face in Tony’s chest.

“I need to talk to you!”

He told him about Millie and Macy and Flo, and his fears that they were just hanging out with him out of pity. He told him everything that had happened that day, and started talking about textiles.

“-so I thought, y’know, I could make it for Loki, but he’s not here any more, and so there’s no point, and I was so horrible to him before he left and now I feel so guilty and a miss him so much and, and-”

“Ok, ok, sweetheart, shh” Tony hugged him close. “It’s ok, chick”

“I want him to come back!”

“I know. I know you do. He’ll come back when he’s ready”

“No he won’t! He won’t ever want to be near me again! I was so hateful to him”

“It’s not your fault he left. He will come back; he promised he would” Tony said firmly. “When he’s ready, and not a moment before”

Peter rested his forehead against Tony’s shoulder, breathing deeply. He knew he needed to believe Tony. After all, he knew him better than anyone else. 

“I just want him to hurry up”

“I know. Try not to think about it. You’ve got other stuff to focus on. School, for a start, and your new friends”

Peter stood back slightly. “Do you really think they’re friends?”

“Sure” Tony said. “They’ll come running up to you tomorrow morning, you’ll see”

“What if you’re wrong?”

Tony smiled. “What if I’m not? Come on, lets get you fed”

*

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #frostiron #peter parker #spiderman homecoming

[britneyshakespeare]

who wants to hear a high school story

that wasn’t a question that was a warning

preface: i did almost no homework in high school. it’s actually amazing i managed to pass as many classes as i did. i test well but i got adhd so when i get home and the meds wear off yeaaaaah no work is getting done. i was a bright or at least bright-enough kid (why am i talking about this like it’s the distant past i haven’t really changed all that much since i was 16 im more or less the same now as i was then) i was just unreliable as hell. the worst part was i’d end up getting lower grades in classes i was good at and liked because i’d tend to put off those projects even more than the classes i didnt like, figuring i wanted to do them so i’d end up doing em anyway. generally speaking, i didn’t.

what little homework i did do, i did within the school walls during school hours. i did my math homework everyday in my lunch period (luckily i didnt have psshh friends to bog me down by socializing with me) so i almost always got that done. i also had some classes that i either purposely took at a lower level than i needed to, or some graduation requirements like health or tech which were not all that demanding and i’d have extra time after finishing work in those classes, to work on other things. oh and i never paid attention or took notes in my math classes. like, ever. math comes unfairly easy to me and i’d just write poetry and doodle in my notebook. what i’m getting at is that i had a lot of extra time in my schedule to fuck around.

so, it was springtime my sophomore year, and everyone knows what spring means in american educational curriculum: poetry season in your english classes! i don’t need to elaborate for my followers here you know by now if you read my ramblings that i fuckin’ love me some poetry. for an assignment we all had to present several poems to the class from a poet of our choice and explain them. it was part written, part presentation. and we had to explain about the poet’s life.

the poet we chose had to be two things: from no earlier than the 20th century, and not american. and that put me in a bind because i, unlike a lot of my peers who just weren’t into it, had quite a lot of poets i was passionate about. i mean i wasn’t familiar with every famous name in the history of poetry but i was a 16-year-old with a pretty serious pet hobby for a few years at that point. and all of my favorites at that time were mostly from the 19th century or before, or american, or both. (“but diana what about w. b. yeats dont you love that bitch?” i didnt start reading yeats till iw as 17 shut up im telling a story) i begged my teacher if i could do oscar wilde because strictly speaking he did live into the 20th century, but my teacher let me down gently that no, your sassy gay who died in 1900 and didn’t publish anything in the year he died would not qualify.

pre-yeats-discovering diana was upset. aggrieved, even. i don’t remember how i made the choice, but i did decide to do t. s. eliot because i heard he qualified and something about his work just resonated with me. his writing style. his use of metaphor.

and i didn’t do that project. i didn’t read a damn thing about t. s. eliot. in fact i can’t even tell ya now what those first two initials stand for.

thomas stearns. i looked it up. they stand for thomas stearns. i still don’t know all that much about eliot as a dude man i just read his poetry & i read it he didn’t seem to me to live a life as fascinating as an oscar wilde or a christina rossetti or even an emily dickinson when ya get into the details, so, like, whatever. great poet, not particularly interesting dude.

yeah. i didn’t do the project. i didn’t learn a thing about eliot the man.

until the the literal morning of that project being due. at that point i assumed i just was gonna not hand anything in and get a zero because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ im useless.

but the tech class i had in first period was kind of a joke, honestly. all we learned how to do was basic microsoft office essentials and we’d like, copy some data into an excel sheet and email it to the teacher. so my ass always had extra time to fuck around in that class. like, at least 45 minutes.

i used that period to begin and finish the entire analysis of t. s. eliot’s poetry. i had to do, i think, at least 5 different poems and write at least a paragraph explaining their meaning and metaphor. and i printed it with 5-10 minutes to spare. it was a relief to, wow, actually get some goddamn work done and not fail a class that i liked and was competent in.

and then came time to present that day. there was one other guy in my class who did eliot so we presented together, not because we worked together, but to save time. he would read one poem and explain it and i’d do the same w one of mine.

so he reads his, gives a pretty okay explanation (for a guy who outright didn’t just not care for poetry, he claimed he hated it. yeah he’s a young conservative whatever they hate the arts anyway.) i read mine, give a damn good explanation, if i do say so myself.

and my teacher looks at us both like “and do you have anything to explain about eliot?” and internally im like “uhhhh he’s british” but luckily i let poetry hater guy explain that he was born in missouri and renounced his american citizenship and i was like. wow this is the one time in my life a conservative has ever been there to cover my ass.

anyway the only moral of this story is im both a distinguished and disaster bi and i’m so good at winging it im surprised i can’t fly. and i dont know anything about t. s. eliot i just like his work.

#this took longer to explain than i thought it would #i been sittin on this story since 2015 #i have other grand stories of me winging it in that class but eh #why would you renounce your american citizenship to become BRITISH tho what's your goal #i mean i get it boy i'd hate being from the south too #but uhhh from a moral standpoint if there's any country somehow more uhh... ethically dubious in world history #it's britain #i don't know anything about t. s. eliot #story #tales from diana #this isnt meant to be reblogged but i dont really care if u do #long post

[corpse-drummer]

@tarinya-quinn tagged me a while ago for a game of... 20 17 questions. Thanks buddy-ol’-pal-o’-pal-o’-buddy-o’. (Sorry it’s so late - I’ve been incapable of doing anything recently.) 1. How tall are you? 5′7″ (174cm)

2. What color and style is your hair? Brown, with some grey, black, and blond - Bozo the clown type. It’s incredibly curly and it sucks. In its natural form (a fro), it defies gravity and feels like trying to sleep with steel wool crunching around your ear. I’ve been chemically straightening it since I was like 16 (and it somehow hasn’t fallen out nor burned off), but sadly my curl pattern always returns with a vengeance.

3. What color are your eyes? Brown.

4. Do you wear glasses? Nope. Not even when I should, like when working underneath a car. I’m sick of picking shards of rusty metal out of my eyeball with my fingernail.

5. Do you have braces? Nope. 

6. What is your fashion sense? What fashion sense? I can’t sense fashion. I wear black pants, black shoes, black socks, and black shirts. I do not do anything fancy, but I prefer to keep an orderly look (not look like a slob). 

7. Do you have any siblings? Well, I have two half older sisters and one half older brother. We share a mother and were seeded from the ball-batter of three different men. I was the only child of my father.

8. What kind of student are you? I haven’t been a student in a long time... I was the type of student who mostly slept through class, stared at the clock, doodled in my notebook, and looked at/fantasized over the attractive girls to pass time by. Oh, I also drove people nuts by tapping on my desk, because, well, I’m a drummer. I did no homework, nor any extra-curricular activities. Despite all that, I did well on tests and quizzes; therefore I would pass, which drove teachers & guidance counselors nuts. This is completely different if I’m actually a student of something I have interest in (and am not overly tired for). 

9. What are your favorite subjects? Eh... Photography, Video Production, Cooking, Wood-Shop. Ya’ know, the actual useful ones.

10. What are your favorite TV shows? There’s a lot, and I know I’m going to forget a bunch... Married with Children, Seinfeld, Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, Silicon Valley, Shameless, Dexter, Vikings, MXC, Fargo, Ash Vs. Evil Dead, South Park, True Detective, Wilfred, Stranger Things, Sopranos, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Spartacus, Lilyhammer, & more...

11. Favorite books? I don’t book.

12. Favorite pastimes? Oh dear. Well... Creating music/drumming, building and/or fixing things, gaming, doing absolutely nothing, deal-hunting/spending money, trying to make money, and I’d be lying if I didn’t include masturbating. Heh, I have no shame.

13. Any regrets? Yeah, pretty certain.

14. What is your dream job? I really do not know. If I knew, I might have actually tried to pursue it. I’ve never had a passion or a dream when it came to employment.

15. Do you want to get married? Nope. If this doesn’t get the ladies, my next answer surely will. /sarcasm

16. Do you want to have kids and how many? Absolutely not - none, zero. It should come as no surprise that I’ve been and will be continue to be single for a very long time, heh.

17. How many countries have you visited? One... and it was Canada. That almost doesn’t even count because it’s almost exactly the same as here except there are more French speaking people and they say “eh” at awkward moments. To me it was Frenchylvania. 

Uh, I’m supposed to tag some fellows. Here are a few people I recently interacted with: @death-is-only-everlasting @silverstagpotter (yes, I know you tagged me for a selfie, so I still owe you that) and honestly, I can’t remember who else. My mind has been a piece of hot garbage lately. Feel free to partake in the 17 questions if you feel like it, or don’t...

#tag thing #17? questions #why 17 #oh well #tagged #personal #info

[isadvras]

hello everyone, it is i, your not so friendly neighbor ashlynn here to bring you yet another spawn from the fruits of the more creative sliver of my mind. i haven’t had to write an intro in forever and i forgot how awkward they were to write even though in april i’ll have been in this rp for a year. like...seriously. they’re juST SO HARD TO WRITE.

OKAY-- ON TO MORE PRESSING MATTERS !! this is my little lionheart, and her name is isadora. isadora is a greengrass. much like my other child, zahrah. fun fact: they’re half siblings, though i’m sure you probably guessed that by now. isadora and zahrah have the same mother, but different fathers due to margaret greengrass having an affair with an unnamed pureblood one night when feeling particularly spiteful against her husband, who’s totally cheating on margaret at the same time that she’s cheating on him tbh they really don’t like each other and are only married for power and money. this family is so complex man. now i gotta explain it:

okay, so william and margaret greengrass have 4 children together. annette, who is 19 and a hufflepuff. she’s exactly 9 months older than zahrah, who is 18 and a slytherin (( and also another one of my muses in this rp lol )), will, who is 11 and a ravenclaw, and then little wren, who is 7 and not old enough for hogwarts yet but when she is old enough she’s gonna be a slytherin bc shes a sneaky lil thing man. separately, william has 2 other children and margaret has one, all three being born from affairs. william’s children are named penelope and charles, and they’re twins. they’re 15 and in slytherin alongside zahrah. their mothers name is lisbette fairchild and she’s a pureblood, and also william’s mistress. she’s not in the picture anymore, after having dumped the twins onto the doorstep of greengrass manor not even 8 months after margaret gave birth to isadora, who is now 16 and in gryffindor house. margaret never disclosed who isadora’s father was, though it is known that he was pureblood, because margaret would never stoop to sleeping with someone of lesser status than herself. so, in order of age, it goes like this:

annette, zahrah, isadora, charles, penelope, will, and wren.

tbh will and wren were only born to ease the idea of scandals from everyones mind, even though it was quite obvious that the twins were definitely not margarets children, considering no one can recall her ever being pregnant after isadora’s birth until will was born five years later. sketchy stuff, my dudes. sketchy stuff.

but now i get to introduce to you my darling, isadora lily greengrass. she’s genuinely such a kind girl. pretty sassy, but overall just kind.

okay, so first things first. homegirl is sixteen, and she's in gryfindor, and she's a pureblood. she's in her sixth year, and is actually really good in school. the sorting hat had a difficult time choosing between gryffindor and ravenclaw for this peach, but ultimately chose gryffindor because it could sense the utmost courage and bravery that flowed within izzy's bloodstream.

izzy is 50% ashkenazi jew thanks to margaret, and from her fathers side, she is 12.5% african american, 12.5% boholano filipino, and 25% mix of english, german, scots-irish/northern irish, scottish.

isadora is not at all soft spoken, unless she really wants to be. she's loud, and happy, and incredibly sassy. she's always got some sort of witty comeback, but she also has one hell of a temper that she keeps on a short leash. a playful argument with her could quickly turn into something more, and when it does, watch out. she has a nasty habit of accidentally making things explode when her temper flares, kinda like how a small child would accidentally do when first learning about magic. she can also be really calm when she wants to be? like, yeah she's excitable and such, but she's also super mellow and just likes to linger in the background a bit. not chameleon style like andy, but more along the lines of a "hey im here but not really in the mood to make a big spectacle of myself today" kinda thing.

she's very aware that william greengrass is not her father, and that penelope and charles aren't related to her in any way at all. this is not one of her favorite subjects to talk about. she doesn't usually discuss it, though, seeing as technically no one is supposed to know that william isn't her father, even though it's painfully obvious that he's not.

isadora is an artist. she's always got paint splotches on her arms and legs, paint caked under her nails, pencils tucked behind her ears, and she's always carrying around supplies in her knapsack for when she gets bored. underneath her bunk in her dormitory are piles upon piles of full sketchpads and empty ones. she's also got a bunch of spiral notebooks that she buys off of muggleborn students every start of term that are filled with useless doodles that she'll sketch out when she's bored during class. her being an artist is a big part of her character because it brings forth her ability to spot details that others sometimes can't spot, if that makes any sense at all. she had even considered trying out as gryffindor seeker at one point bc of her ability to see things others can't see upon first glance and thought it would help with looking for the snitch but ultimately decided against it because she'd rather watch quidditch than play.

isadora has never once gone home for christmas holiday because she doesn't like putting herself in the uncomfortable position of having to deal with william treating her like dirt because she isn't actually his daughter.

she has a two year old persian cat named sir fluffington, and yes, she calls him sir fluffington all the time and expects others to do the same.

she hates going by isadora and usually doesn't even introduce herself as isadora. strictly izzy or iz will do. the only people that call her isadora would be her mother, william, the house elves back at greengrass manor, and occasionally zahrah but z only does it bc she knows izzy doesn't like it lmao

she's never been a big fan of fancy parties and usually hid up in her room whenever william and margaret decided to host a gala. she was probably painting and listening to the weird sisters tbh

iz really doesn't care about blood status. her opinion is that blood is blood just as magic is magic, no matter if you grew up in a muggle family or the oldest of pureblood families.

she has a huge interest in care of magical creatures, and reads tons of books on magical creatures and such. it's a passion of hers, honestly.

she's the only one in her family so far to continue to take muggle studies during her sixth year of schooling

THAT'S ALL I CAN REALLY THINK OF RIGHT NOW. HONEST MEME IF YOU WANNA PLOT OR ANYTHING DON'T HESITATE TO LET ME KNOW BC I LOVE PLOTTING IM A PLOT HOE AND HONEST MEME PART 2 I DONT KNOW WHY IM TYPING IN ALL CAPS WHOOPS

#wizardintro #tw: infidelity #honest meme cant read this anymore bc its in small text #my glasses come in about a week #thank god

[lilumommy]

Age 12 Is When It All Changes...

RE-POST My youngest child turned 12 last November. During the months leading up to his birthday, I looked for signs of change but didn’t see any evidence to support what happened to his older brother and sister around this age. For the two of them, it was like clockwork — they morphed into two humans I barely recognized just before turning twelve. They used to tell me about their day and want to share pieces of their social life, like who they sat with at lunch and if their best friend hurt their feelings. Then suddenly, they started responding to me with shoulder shrugs and mutters. They used to get excited about going for family bike rides and ice cream cones, but that all flew out the window when they turned 12 — their enthusiasm replaced by video games, spending time alone in their room, or wanting friends to come over. Instead of becoming more aware of people, their surroundings, and how their actions and tone of voice affected others, they seemed to notice less. And their moodiness left me grabbing for every book I could get my hands on about the teenage brain. Were they depressed? Was this normal? Am I doing enough to help them? How did I raise such ungrateful kids? Then I talked to about a dozen other parents who all agreed — 12 is where everything changes. Sure, I remembered being a teenager and hating my life at times. My social life was front and center and came before anything else, including outings with my mom. I thought my parents were dumb and I knew way more about life than they did, but I hadn’t been this bad … had I? According to my mother, I was. And it started around my 12th birthday. I celebrated my son on his 12th birthday in his way. He didn’t want a party with his friends. He wanted chicken nuggets and french fries. And he wanted to have his cousins, aunts and uncles, grandmother and father all in one place to eat peanut butter pie. So, that’s what we did. He asked for a mini-telescope, and wanted to walk around Target to pick out some Flarp slime and he somehow talked me into letting him get a whoopie cushion. I was so consumed with the fact he was still the same child he’d always been, feeling hopeful that he wouldn’t go through the Terrible Twelves like his brother and sister did, that I’m sure he could smell it. He was still very much a child who liked to talk. He still hugged me. He still thought I was awesome and wanted to spend time with me. This is 12 for him, I thought. And I was clinging to it. And then, overnight, he changed. Instead of wanting to watch a family movie and make popcorn (one of his favorite things to do), he started staying in his room for hours. I’d check on him and find him lying on the floor doodling in his notebook or lost in thought staring at the ceiling. He became annoyed when I asked him if everything was all right. “I just want to be alone, Mom,” he’d tell me. There was a time in my life when my kids were up my ass all the time and, honestly, having a kid tell me they wanted to be alone would have sounded like a dream at one point. It would have been my pleasure to go to the bathroom by myself, eat an entire sandwich without their hands grabbing at me, or not have to help them find the tiny, missing LEGO piece. But then they grow up. They turn 12. They start actually asking you to leave them alone. Nothing about that feels natural to you as a mom, and I don’t like this phase at all. Screw you, 12. I miss the eagerness my kids used to have. I’d give anything to see them run around the house like their hair’s on fire because we are going to get a Happy Meal. I’d rather lose sleep because they’re sick, had a bad dream, or don’t want to sleep alone than lose sleep staying up worrying about their well-being because they are quiet, moody, or seemed on edge after school. Twelve has a way of taking your kids and trying to squeeze the child out of them. Twelve is confusing. Twelve is lonely. Twelve is asking your kids to change before they are ready. Twelve forces you to learn how to parent in a whole different way. Twelve has grit and endurance. It’s relentless and makes you feel like you have been bolted out of their lives. But one thing I see in my two older kids, who will be 16 and 14 this year, gives me hope: They are coming back around. They’ve started talking more and letting me peek into their lives again without me having to constantly ask for it. Their hugs feel sincere. They have ventured out of their rooms more. And their moods have leveled out to a manageable level. It took a few years, and I will miss my youngest as he navigates his way through his 12th year (and probably most of his 13th), but he knows I will be waiting for him on the other side of this. So, if you are a parent with a child who is approaching their 12th year, or are smack dab in the middle of it and wonder when they are going to come out of it, I promise you, it will get better. But in the meantime, do your best to not take it personally. Do what you feel is right as their parent, and treat yourself to some comfort food once in a while (even if they don’t want to eat with you). These are the best elixirs I’ve found so far.

[augustine-13]

Realizations

Hello, it’s been a while.

Well, I’m officially single, and it’s been a tough couple of weeks. I don’t even know where to begin. I guess from the beginning.

He left me. He said, “I want to be alone for now”. And I swear in that moment I felt someone pushing a thousand rocks through my throat. I remember thinking, “This is how the end of the world must feel like”. My whole life ended, right there. In a hotel room. On a Saturday morning, right after breakfast. We argued, well I did, for like three hours, screaming, crying. Oh my God, the crying. It was nonstop. I could not handle myself. He was in the city for three more days so I decided (stupid decision #1) to make the most out of those three days left we had together. And they were great. He acted like he hadn’t just dumped me (and I still think he doesn’t realize the choice he’s made yet, but that’s another issue) and it was great. Day three came. He left the city. He left me.

Days passed. Life went on. But my life could not be described as an actual living thing. I was just there. Going back to school, doing chores, searching for a job. I was doing the things that you are supposed to be doing while living, but I wasn’t actually living. I was just waiting for the day to be over so I could sleep. I was waiting for something that I knew would never happen: for him to call me back and say sorry. 

Look guys, we went through a lot of crap, my family and I. Parents divorcing, family members dying, bankruptcy. But I never felt as bad as then. Never had I been in such a bad place in my life. I had a pretty bad anxiety and anguish episode and a doctor had to come home. He gave me meds, which really help, and hopefully with therapy I will be able to stop taking them soon. But really, it was bad. My head could not stop spinning, thinking, overthinking. I was a mess. I kept going back and forth about the whole situation, and it was literally making me sick. I couldn’t sleep, eat or do anything. Kept getting sick in my stomach. I was zombie like.

But then, after a few weeks, my head clicked. Sometimes, overthinking can be helpful, guys, And I realized a couple of things.

First of all, no one, not even the closest of your friends, or your parents, no one has the right to make you feel worthless and to treat you badly. And that is what he did by the way he handled things, the way he spoke to me, the way he treated my family (my mom had just had surgery and he wouldn’t even text her to see how she was; this is a woman who was like a mother to him). He admitted, several times, that he was a selfish asshole, that he was aware of it, but that is just the way he was. And I was supposed to settle for that? Was I supposed to take this crap from him? God, no. It took a long time and a lot of work, but I realized how much I’m worth, With all my flaws and the good things and the bad things. I’m me, and I like me, No, make that “I love me”. And I know now for sure that I did not deserve to take that crap from him, and of course, from no one from now on. 

Second of all, and this was hard as hell to realize, or admit, that I had been thinking about doing the same for some time now. I wanted to break up like a million times before because I was not happy, for many reasons which I will tell you about some other day, but I could never bring myself to do it because I was too scared to stop a 9 year long relationship, and because, of course, I still loved him. And I thought that was something worth fighting for. But you know what? It is only worth fighting for when both of you still have love for each other. Not only one of you, both of you. 

But what was the problem with this? That he did it first. And oh boy, did that hurt my ego. Nothing hurts more than someone hurting your ego, your self worth. Who the fuck has the right to do that? NO ONE. I felt like a piece of shit. I started wondering what the fuck was so wrong with me that made him not want to be with me anymore. I started blaming myself for everything, when in reality I had done nothing wrong. Life happened. None of us were perfect, and we’d been through a lot, but this separation happening was not my calling, it was his. I almost drove myself crazy thinking about how to get him back, that I needed to change myself in those three days he stayed in the city to show him I can be whatever he wanted me to be, whatever he needed me to be. But NO, it does not work that way. I need to be what I need to be, I want to be what I want to be. Nothing more, nothing less. But I felt disconnected from myself. had lost the essence of me, trying to become the woman he needed. 

So I started doing things to get to know me again. I started going to the gym, eating healthier, dressing better and putting on make up to feel pretty again. I started reading my favorite books again, doodling and drawing on my college notebooks, paying attention in class and working hard again (as the proud nerd I am). And it’s working, I’m starting to feel good again. This getting to know me is working really good. Because the truth is, I don’t even know who I am.

When my ex and I started dating, we were teenagers. I was 16 and he was 17. We grew up and we built our personalities together, so I didn’t really have time to figure out who I was, or am, on my own. And he didn’t either. Oh and guys, when you lose someone that was so close to you growing up, on your formative years, it makes it a really bad loss. I understood then why it hurt so much. It felt like a part of me had died. He was as much part of me as my arm. And that was fucking painful. This was realization #3. 

And fourth and last, I realized that, no matter how much you try or how much you love them, you can’t force someone to be with you. You can’t force love. Love should be simple, love should be as natural as waking up in the morning. I can’t make him want to be with me. He just doesn’t want to, and that is OK. It really is. Because, honestly, I don’t really want to be with him now. I want someone who wants to with me because he loves me, because it comes natural. 

But for all of this to happen, firstly you have to love yourself. It is the biggest cliché of all time, I know, but it is true. You have to know your worth so others can see it and you have to make them respect you, and treat you the way you should be treated. Love yourself so others can love you. And I’m not talking about romantic love, I’m talking about every type of love there is: family love, friendship love, even pet love (yes, this is for you Waffle, you selfish narcissistic cat). And if you want to live alone on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, that is fucking perfect, as long as you love yourself. 

I’m writing this as I feel like a two hundred pound rock just lifted off my back. I’m OK. I will be OK. And I love him, I guess a part of me will always love him, but this is the end for us. And that is OK.

Can anyone of you relate?

#breakup #heartbreak #confession #tumblr #dear diary #getting over him