and so its begun]


d a y f i ve
spring is coming really soon so here are some green things🌿im reading the book “mosquito land” and its so good aaa!! ive also begun planting lavender seeds, the second picture is what they look like after a month or so of being planted. im going to need to repot it soon… today was v chill v productive and the weather is lovely :)


kyle bosman + asexual pride icons for @spoolesofthread

please like/reblog if you’re using ! and feel free to send me requests

tried inking + watercolor for the first time ever wwwww

jokers-boytoy replied to your post : Idk why everyone shits on cats the musical it may…


YES! Ugh I can’t even with them you got

The Hair Metal Cat (The Rum Tum Tugger)


And my personal favorite, The Railway Cat <3 (Skimbleshanks)


Little Drabble-Concept for @falsequerade 

                                                                    [ Inspiration: Skott - Porcelain ]

      Music and dancing - it always had and would project inner thoughts in the beauty of a movement, with stares and eyes and glances drawn. 

      Smiles twitching up between moments of concentration. How excellently intertwined two souls could become, in the excellence of sound and noise and steps attached - those rehearsed and learned, or those surely to be found in the lead of each other anew. One as beautiful as the other was desired, with getting lost in movements, breath and touch, in nought but security upon being held in arms to swiftly lead and offer steady pace to a song unheard before [ and picked out to a perfection for two minds to match ]

      They had, as it was, talked quite often about said topic, had they not? In the vastness of a home far off from own thoughts lingering with this or that tangled disarray. Far off, and securely hidden away, in the monumental latitude of a fairy tale home. Of a dreamlike grandeur of halls and ways, columns and endless rows of rows of windows, leading out to valleys, forests, cities small and large below. It’s all to get lost in - to find that littlest bit of desired relaxation into a normalcy that never truly would be one. And amongst it all, quiet talks and walks in the enormity that seemed just so unreal - they had spoken about this topic just before. 

               “Shall I show you our ballroom?”

                                                                                    Of course~ I don’t see why not.

      And so they would wander the emptiness that was this room’s own. That would be filled with masses upon masses of human and the supernatural alike, to find themselves [ past all their strife and quarrel ] into the softness of cradling music, weightlessness brought by the pulchritude of verses and strophe alone. That lithe and delicate form of hers [ such a mesmerising little doll ], would wander swiftly towards the hall’s utmost centre, would have, first of all, hands be clasped together behind her back, just to unfurl, twirl around, gracefully [ but still with mirth ] invite him to follow her along. 

     No music~? But despite protest, he still took her up so quickly on it. So surely, that place and way stride upon as if distance means to diminish into nothingness by needs and want of closeness. Their friendship - casualness in beautiful unity - cherished much, so why not offer the lead for something just so captivating as a dance. As music would so suddenly [ swiftly and from nowhere really ] resound and fill the room. Just when Uta reached her - was close by and took an offered hand - and from her own free one, would fingers snap together in a signal that means and offers no such pause. The music sets and begins. The moment Katarina herself commands it. “Enough of it~?” 

      Ah - soon they just take up the rhythm of the beat [ quiet, it was a soft sound, a beautiful song - so fitting for them both it seems ]

      As she allows him to lead. To fall into that song that his host had desired to be of entertainment for the display. She wanted to show him, it was never to be said, that this show did not entail a practice. Did not allow them to slip into comfortable silence [ mind-emptying, mind-numbing ], in that sway, dandle and delight, with how steps would surely lead them through said endless canvas, to be painted with all but sound and movement, drawing upon by smell and colourful thoughts. Smiling was a better answer to her cheerful return [ of course, filling such height and space - it was enough of music - and how soft it still felt— ] than any words could even offer for them.

      Touch as much, was just as telling. With fingertips to trace along clothed skin of her back, along the structure of bones and tendons, hidden away in every shift a hand makes in changing and grasping for each and every routine turned into as if it was their all-day engagement [ as if they were just meant for it ]. Rarely so, would the Countess find a partner just as easily matching her up, all quiet and perfect, still powerful in all movement made, for each turn underlined with the flying shift of feet over ancient and polished wood. 

      “You’re talented.” Breathed just as much, for how she meant it in their endless turns and twists, would place her hand that littlest bit higher upon his shoulder, tracing soon enough along his neck in the mindless pursuit of this or that mark [ ink to be embellished by fall of light through windows high and tall ]. I do like to engage in a good dance, every once in a while~ So she hears and smiles about it, so she feels and skips a beat, to keep and come back as per his demand. Delighted, cheerful - as the music did not seem to stop, did not want to stop [ how quaint, that Katarina herself, was the one commanding it all ]

      But all dreams, as it was said, would come to an end. 

      All dreamlike wishes to dissipate, when the last sound, would quieten down into a nothingness around them. And darkness as picture perfect as the fall outside, would adorn the expense behind unlit windows, and herald the start of cool and clear night. “My thanks, for the dance, Milord~” How tentatively teasing her words would leave lips curled up and crafted to perfection [ a jest, of course - but was it truly? ], with how she moved to release herself from his grasp, would all but drop for a short curtsy on her part, old rehearsed, never un-learned

      Old and like the most excellent match, for a dance and old tale of time, as truthfully, as it can get. But why not follow? For he was such lovely when only smiled like this. My pleasure, Milady~ How to not find enjoyment, in something quite so tender [ how honest was it truly? how right and correct - how less it mattered in this completeness of a moment ]. In tracing and touching, and only feeling close, as touch, as mindfully it was given, as thoroughly it was desired in all its immaculate purity, was all they wanted. 

      All they needed in a world of cruelty and unjust persecution. Why not hold it simple for a margin of minutes more? With a kiss to be placed on back of slender hand, and another returned [ just as tentative ] on cheek offered for her to reach. 

anonymous asked:

What do you think about the Cactus Kanda headcanons?

((kanda and cacti is 100% canon, confirmed,))

((based off of @simply-m-a-d‘s post here!!))

@gentlegiantingvar continued from here.

She had thought he was a statue, a mountain altar, in some long-forgotten part of the forest. 

A spontaneous walk had brought her far from her home and when the rain fell, she had been too tired to seek shelter, and too excited to want to turn back ––– if she had to spend the night she would do it.

Then she had happened upon the tallest rock formation she’d ever seen, one that was awkwardly sprouted in the middle of a clearing as though the land around it had simply decided to abandon, and not embrace it, and it made her very incredibly sad, for some reason.

She’d come closer, trying to see better through the rain, to make out if it really was in the shape of a man or if she was just too tired to even see properly.

But it moved, and she froze in place, eyes widening as she watched him look at her. “Er, no, Belle,” came her startled reply, before she clapped both hands over her mouth in a squeak. 

lemon-mira  asked:

how are you :0c has school begun yet there?

sadly,,its finals week,, SO BS IM SORRY THIS IS WHY IM SO INACTIVE HERE RN//// but summer break starts next week so ill be able to draw more >:’’00!!

Hailey Slater - Founder of the Slater Random Legacy

Marital Status: Single parent

Number of Children: Four

Primary Career: Criminal (Evil)

Generational Goal: Fulfilled

Misc. Fun: Random Traits

Coming soon.


Meanwhile Galaxia’s regretting bringing that whip out if this is what’s going to happen.


First, the truly divine level of “innuendo in the face of danger” we have going on here, because oh my god. This is something unique between Haruka and Michiru that Stars has cultivated over the course of the season, and I really can’t say enough wonderful things about it. S was such a powder keg of tension between the two of them, all these EMOTIONS that neither Haruka nor Michiru were able (or willing) to express. I’m reminded of times in that season where they faced imminent death, and yet weren’t able to draw strength from each other. Remember when Michiru tried to take Haruka’s hand and Haruka pulled away? (BECAUSE FUCKING HANDS, RIGHT??) It’s such a quiet and sad moment, particularly because it’s Michiru putting herself in a vulnerable position, and Haruka refusing what’s being offered.

Now here we are in Stars. From the first episode of the season, we learn how different things are between them, and gods know I WORDS all over everything at the time. What’s so fantastic though is IT’S KEPT GOING. That wasn’t a one-off, it wasn’t an isolated joke, IT’S WHAT HARUKA AND MICHIRU DO NOW. They’ve gone from “oh no we can’t allow ourselves this tiny moment of barest physical comfort” to “three seconds from making out in front of the ‘queen’s throne’”.

I love that this is their reaction to looming death and fear. I love it for a bunch of reasons I”m going to talk about, but I don’t want to let that idea pass without comment. Because make no mistake, Haruka and Michiru are FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. Galaxia is killing this planet as effortless as she killed countless planets before. She’s already killed the Inners. Michiru’s attacks were brushed aside. Haruka’s sword was caught one-handed, cracked, and tossed away effortlessly. They’ve just been hit directly with Galaxia’s power and I’m going to take a guess that it didn’t feel great. But not only is is a logical conclusion that they’re worried, the creators went so far as to give us visual proof.

Like I’ve said repeatedly, details are everything. This is particularly true when it comes to something visual in animation (especially in this time period when everything was done by hand and so required a substantially higher investment). Basically, characters don’t sweat without reason. We’ve seen Haruka and Michiru get their ass handed to them in a myriad of exciting ways. They’ve looked scraped and bloody and beaten and disheveled, but they never sweat. Sweat isn’t a shorthand for “hurt”. It’s shorthand for “nervous”.

Haruka and Michiru look fine and they sound completely relaxed and so not bothered with what’s going on around them, but it’s all a front. Galaxia may or may not be picking that up, but WE do, and that’s the point. It was vitally important that we know two things here:

  1. Haruka and Michiru are seriously concerned.
  2. When they’re seriously concerned, they turn to each other.

This isn’t just breaking the tension by dropping a high energy sex-fueled bomb on the unsuspecting populace, ALTHOUGH THAT ALSO. It’s about Haruka trying to disguise her fear with bravado, and verbally reaching out to Michiru for reassurance. (Note, by the way, that this time it’s HARUKA opening that door.) And Michiru responds immediately. Their banter is charged, but easy. It’s comforting, but intimate. They’re turning this moment of fear that’s outside of themselves into something personal ONLY about themselves. It’s a reminder of all the other times they’ve done this, and survived. It’s a promise for all the things waiting for them when they survive this, too. (”Later, when we’re alone.”) It’s an affirmation of all the truly personal things they’ve shared that are only for them, just in case this time they don’t get to walk away.

This moment is so many things, in so many ways, and it’s wrapped up in nothing but filthy innuendo between two loving and committed badass ladies and it’s beautiful.

"This is why I don't let myself fall in love." Jonathan Byers x Reader

Jonathan has his heart broken, and reader is his only consolidate at the time. So angst, much sadness. Bad memories. Johnny crying which is NOT OKAY.

A/N: Jonathan Byer’s is precious and I have no excuse for why I wrote this other than I wanted to.

Word Count: 1698


“Hey did you see the Byer’s kid? He walked out of school before first period even started!”

“Really? What the Hell!”

“I know, and I swear I saw him crying.”

“Ugh, he’s such a freak. He was probably crying over his pathetic little brother and loony mom.”

Your ears had already pricked up long before you’d heard the last passing remark behind you. Spinning round in your seat, you faced the two culprits of the mean gossiping. Two girls, both in striped, cashmere sweaters and denim skirts. They had white tennis shoes and curled hair. One was applying sparkling lip-gloss and the other was chewing on some gum.

“You shouldn’t be so mean. He lost his brother for Pete’s sake.”

The one applying lip-gloss snapped her compact mirror shut and screwed the lid on the tube before she bothered to talk to you. “Why do you care?”

“I just don’t think you should be so harsh. He thought his brother died and only just recently got him back. You saw the news.”

The two girls rolled their eyes, sniggering at you. “Jeez Y/N, it was just a bit of fun! You’re almost as sensitive as Byers.”

Resisting the urge to bite back with a snarky comment, you turned back round in your seat and waited out the rest of the period. Directly on the bell, you jumped up from your seat and left the class before the bell had even finished ringing. You were in no rush to get to your next class, in fact you needn’t worry at all. You’d decided to personally cancel your own classes for the day and bunk off. If you went home your mom would have a fit, but luckily you had an alternative place to go.

Your quiet spot.

And if your prediction was accurate, Jonathan would be there too.

It wasn’t very well known around school how close you and Jonathan were, but you both liked to keep it that way. Jonathan bunked off too much anyway for anyone to notice your platonic relationship in school.

Hopping on your little Vespa that you cherished dearly, you drove speedily out of the school parking lot and on your way. Your hair sticking out from beneath your helmet whipped around your face, which shone a huge smile as you cherished the freedom and exhilarating feeling of being on the road. Halfway along the empty road you pulled off and onto a smaller, bumpier dirt track. It wasn’t an official road, but it had been carved into the ground by plenty of vehicles over time, namely teens wanting some privacy on a date night. Gross.

Sure enough, when you’d been driving down the track, about 500 yards later you came across Jonathan’s car. It was abandoned when you pulled up beside it, kicking out the stand and hanging your helmet off one of the handles by the chin strap. Peering in through the car window, you saw his camera was on the passenger seat along with his messenger bag.

Shrugging, you walked off the track and deeper into the forest. There was no other sound to be heard other than the crunching of tiny twigs beneath your trainers. You were wearing some scuffed up trainers, baggy denim jeans with rips in them and a black, long-sleeved shirt. For a while it was just you alone with your thoughts, until the sound of sniffing interrupted your silence. You slowed down your fast strides and approached the source of the noise that intruded the natural silence of the forest.

Sure enough, sat in your quiet spot on the fallen trunk of a dead tree, was Jonathan Byers. His back was facing you, but you could already tell by his body language that he was crying. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, head bent down as he looked at the floor that was covered in brown pine needles and little rocks. Wordlessly, you hooked your legs over the tree trunk and sat down to Jonathan’s right. Immediately he pulled at his jumper sleeve and rubbed his face suspiciously, wiping away the tears he obviously hadn’t intended for you to see.

“You okay?” You simply asked, trying not to instantly pry into something that probably wasn’t really your business. Jonathan took this moment to look at you with a sarcastic expression that obviously said: “Do I look okay to you?”

You winced. “Sorry, stupid question.”

Jonathan shrugged and then shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. You’re just trying to help. I’m being an ass.”

At this you grabbed his right hand and brought it into your lap, encasing it with both of your hands. A comfort gesture.

“Don’t say such things!” You scolded, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. Jonathan just gave you a weak smile, but also offering you a clearer look at his face. His eyes were rimmed red from the salty tears that stung and also made his cheeks puff up slightly.

“It doesn’t help to bottle things up, so you better tell me what’s happened so I can rectify the situation. Who’s ass have I gotta kick?” You half-joked, hoping for him to crack a smile, whilst also being deadly serious about kicking ass. You were rewarded with a genuinely humoured grin, although it was miniscule and lasted about a second.

“You know Lauren?”

“Lauren from Photography?” You recalled. You knew who Lauren was, and you knew Jonathan had an infatuation with her and had done for the past year. “What about her?”

The words that came from Jonathan next broke your heart, but not as hard as they must have broken him.

“She didn’t even know my name. Today, I decided to go speak her and she…just looked at me.”

“Oh God Jonathan, I’m so sorry.”

“She just looked at me, this stupid fake smile on her face like the one you give to someone who you’ve been trying to avoid but to no avail. Then she was all “Hey…” and then one of her friends had to whisper my name in her ear.“

You instinctively pulled Jonathan in for a hug, wrapping your arms tight around his neck in a smothering attempt at comfort. His hands held onto the material of your shirt, bunching it into his fists. You didn’t know he was crying again until you felt his wet cheek brush against yours, the two of you pulling away to look at each other.

“Jonathan…” You started, only for him to interrupt you as he let his grip on you lessen.

“It’s stupid for me to cry. Crying doesn’t help. It didn’t help when Will went missing, and it certainly did jack shit when my dad left.” Jonathan scowled, his usual defences now back up as he swiped his jumper sleeve across his eyes.

“Don’t say that.” You whispered.

Jonathan shook his head angrily. “But I’m right aren’t I?”

You wouldn’t agree and give him the satisfaction of self-loathing, because you knew he didn’t deserve it. So you shook your head and reached your hand out to push his hair away from his face.

“Crying doesn’t mean weakness Jonathan, and right now crying is the most acceptable thing you can do. You…had your heart broken.”

Jonathan scoffed, more at himself than you.

“This is why I don’t let myself fall in love.” He sighed, rubbing his hands together to create some heat that he’d lost from being sat out here for so long. Summer was over and Fall had begun to take its place, much to your excitement, as it only meant Winter was around the corner with the promise of snow.

Jonathan had suffered enough today, you thought, so you decided not to say anything more on the subject and grabbed him to bring him close for another hug. He tried to resist, mumbling under his breath about crying again and you told him to shut up.

“I don’t care if you dampen my shirt you idiot, I want to hold my friend so I damn will do.” You hissed, slapping his upper arm lightly before putting your arms over his shoulders and resting your head against his.

“I suppose that’s why they call it a shoulder to cry on.” Jonathan joked next to your ear, his arms going round your waist as he gave in to the enticing embrace. He liked you, liked your smile and your confidence, but he always put it down to friendship. That’s why he focused on Lauren so much, to take his mind off you, and it had worked. Well, until now.

Jonathan shifted slightly just so that he could be face-to-face with you, your foreheads pressed together.

“I th-think…I have a problem.” He stuttered, gulping as you looked into each other’s eyes. You frowned, already determined to take care of the issue.

“What’s wrong Jonathan?” You asked, a hand slipping up his back to rest at the base of his neck, causing him to shiver slightly beneath your touch.

“I think…I’ve fallen…in love again.” He confessed.

“W-what?” You stuttered. You couldn’t believe what he’d just said. You didn’t want him to be in love again, mainly because you didn’t want a reoccurrence of today. Partly because you were jealous. You had a little crush on Jonathan and his passion for photography. He took photos of you, with you and let you take photos of him. (Although he usually hid his face.)

“Y/N. I’m in love with you.” Jonathan told you.

“Well…” You laughed nervously. “I think the feeling is mutual.”

Jonathan took the chance and leant forward, his lips inviting yours to meet his. They were soft and warm, despite the cold nipping at his skin, and they seemed urgent for your touch. The kiss was slow and full of earnest, Jonathan pouring his feelings into it.

You both stopped for a second, your lips still grazing his, and looked for any signs of the other wanting to stop.

“C'mere.” Jonathan cooed, dragging you back into a longing kiss.

A kiss that you suddenly craved to feel all the time.

Originally posted by ajminyard

Originally posted by fadedmapdots

Should you fight Monsta X
  • Shownu: No. Here's the thing, you could fight him, but he's like 160 lbs of pure muscle. He probably wouldn't even fight back, he'd just realize what you were doing and put you in a headlock.
  • Minhyuk: Yes. You should fight Minhyuk absolutely, but realize it's going to be more like rolling around on the floor, snarling at each other. At some point you will realize that you two are cuddling, not fighting.
  • Kihyun: I want to say yes, but honestly, Kihyun will probably cry if you try to fight him, and then you'll have to deal with pissed off band members, and honestly, it's just not worth it. Leave Kihyun alone, ok.
  • Hyungwon: Fight Hyungwon. You will absolutely win, because he will be too busy trying to protect his face to actually fight back. Also, he has the physical coordination of a drunk 3 year old, so go easy on him, but take home that W.
  • Jooheon: No. I want to fight him, but the bottom line is he'll make that aeygo face and it'll all be over before it's even begun, so let me just save you some time now. Don't fight Jooheon. Don't even try it.
  • I.M: YES!! Fight Changkyun PLEASE. He's such a little shit, and he fights dirty, so be wary. You better win too, because if he beats you, you will literally never hear the end of it.

You know when you have your hat pulled down to your eyebrows and your scarf wrapped over your nose and your hood drawn tight, but there’s still that tiny window of vulnerable flesh that gets pelted by ice pellets for the twenty minutes it takes to walk to class?  And then you wish that you just had a nice fur coat to protect you from the elements?  No?  Is that just me?