It’s two days before the last day of school, and I’m sitting in my Combatives class ready to die of boredom. Mr. Vaughn is showing a demonstration video on how to slay a basilisk. Again. It was the last question on our final. Only half of us got it right.
I was not one of the lucky few.
No one is paying attention as the warrior in the party uses her reflective shield to distract the basilisk while a mage makes a big deal about putting the creature down with a sleep spell. We’re all talking and thinking about the summer.
“What did you get in here?” Jeb asks from across the row.
“C,” I say. “What about you?”
“D minus,” he says, waving his test at me. His ears droop a little like a chastised puppy. Demons are so sensitive.
I shrug. “At least you dodged a bullet. No summer school.”
“Yeah,” Jeb looks down at his test morosely. “But still, you can’t kill a basilisk? Who knew they were an endangered species?”
Mr. Vaughn is clip-clopping across the front of the room now, arms crossed as he gives one of his “these are skills for the real world” lectures once again. As fun as it is to watch a centaur go off on a tear, I’m over Mr. Vaughn and I’m over this school year.
I don’t really care about the test, but I do hate when Jeb gets all emo. “Look, we’re never going to use this anyway. No one goes adventuring anymore.”
He nods and incinerates his test with a simple fire spell. No one even glances at him.
“What are you doing this summer?” he asks after a long while, his voice low. He’s still bummed about his bad grade. Maybe I’ll take him out for frozen yogurt after school. Cheer him up. Sprinkles would cheer anyone up.
I slouch down in my desk, stretching with a yawn. Mr. Vaughn has given up on his lecture and has retreated to his desk to eat an apple someone brought him. He’s much calmer now. It’s probably the apple. Centaurs freaking love apples.
“Nothing dude,” I say, finally answering Jeb’s question. “Absolutely nothing.”
The second day of summer vacation my mom tells me I need to get a job.
We’re sitting at dinner eating Mom’s famous tavern stew, which is really just a bunch of random things boiled down to mush. She’s still dressed in her work clothes: low cut white gown and flower crown. I asked her once why the clinic makes her wear such a ridiculous outfit, and she just shrugged and said “It’s tradition. This is how healers dress.” The men have an outfit that is just as stupid, tight white breeches and a flowy tunic, but I still think it sucks that my mom has to dress like a sex object to help people. Like, where is the self-respect in that?
“So, Caitlyn, what are your plans for summer?” Mom asks as I’m about to shovel in some of her stew. My mouth is full so I just shrug and say “Uhnano.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? No big plans?” Mom is giving me this tight smile that means she wants a specific answer, but I have no idea what she’s looking for here. It’s summer. It’s two and a half months of not thinking about magic spells or chemistry or monster identification or algebra or anything, really. So why is she hassling me?
“I was thinking of maybe taking my mage’s test or something,” I say, hoping it’s enough to distract Mom from whatever she’s about. Dad isn’t even paying attention to the conversation. As usual he’s nose deep in Berserker Weekly. Dad used to be this big time adventurer, walking through forests and bashing in heads for fun and profit. That’s where he met Mom. I think he saved her from an evil wizard or a druidic cult or something. It was a long time ago, though, and now he mainly consults for a living.
“Oh, that’s a good idea. After you get your license maybe you could call Marcus and see if he’ll let you work in the Hex shop. I mean, you should really get a job this summer. Don’t you agree, Brock?”
A frown creases Dad’s dark face but he grunts in assent.
I take another bite of stew and look down at the bowl to avoid answering. There’s no way I’m going to work in my Uncle Marcus’s Hex shop. The thought of untangling curses all summer makes me want to turn myself into a frog and hide out in the forest. Not to mention that my Uncle Marcus is the cheapest man alive. I’d be lucky if he even paid me.
Mom pushes her bowl of stew away and jumps to her feet. “Good! Caitlyn, I’ll send Marcus a note letting him know you’ll be there tomorrow bright and early—”
“I don’t want to work in the Hex shop. It’s gross.”
Mom stops and turns to me slowly. Her skin is pale as usual but two spots of color have appeared high on her cheeks. She is pissed. “Removing hexes is not gross. Your uncle gives those people their lives back.”
“A woman with boils all over her face is pretty gross, Mom.” Last year when I had to pick a concentration Mom took me to see Marcus to convince me to pick cursework because it pays pretty well. I chose spellweaving instead. I’d rather work in a factory making love charms or fire spells than to have to turn frogs back into snotty princes all day.
Mom purses her lips and turns to my Dad. “Brock, will you please talk some sense into your daughter?”
“Cursework is disgusting, Mel,” Dad says, lowering his paper. “Why can’t the girl go adventuring like everyone else her age?”
“No one goes adventuring anymore, Dad,” I say. Because it’s true. Adventuring is something your parents make you do because they don’t understand that it isn’t cool to slay dragons anymore or that maidens can rescue themselves.
I mean, adventuring is just so lame. Walking around, looking for a prophecy to fulfill, and then working really hard for something that may or may not come true? Yawn. I have better things to do.
“No one goes adventuring, huh?” Dad and Mom exchange a look, like they’re about to laugh at some inside joke. Then Dad raises his paper again. “Either way, you’re not going to sit around the house all summer and play video games. Get a job, Caity-Bird, and if you can’t find one then your mother will call Marcus and you can spend all summer waking princesses.”
And that’s how I end up working at the Shop Quick.
Shadow work requires love and patience as it can be extremely stressful if you’re not prepared to face dark truths. Before starting, ground yourself and have a loving and accepting attitude towards yourself even when you see something you don’t like. This spread is to help you find strengths in the darkness.
If you will be interrupted, are feeling imbalanced, have low energy, are busy, and/or cannot handle intense emotions/memories at the moment then save this for another time.
I suggest doing this only once a week or even bimonthly at the most to really reflect.
1. What is it about my _____ that I need to work on?
Pull 1 card.
If you lack direction or are overwhelmed then pull two cards. The first card is the topic, the second card is what you need to work on regarding the topic.
Example topics: ego, greed, spirit, love life, social life, attitude, childhood, trauma, fears, addiction, guilt, scars, destructive nature, happiness, appearance, point of view, self esteem, leadership skills, possessiveness, communication, past, health, search for answers, awkwardness, illness, shadow relationship. *This spread is not a replacement for professional mental health.
2. Where does the problem stem from?
Pull 1 to 3 cards. If one card doesn’t explain enough pull more cards.
3. How do I overcome this?
Pull 1 to 3 cards, same as above.
4. What is the lesson I need to take from this?
Pull 1 card to concentrate on the focal point of the lesson.
5-7. What is an unknown factor about this topic that I’ve yet to realize?
Pull 3 cards. Since this is “unknown”, you’ll have to get a bigger picture. This may trigger memories or uncomfortable realizations depending on the topic.
8. What should I do about it?
Pull 1 to 3 cards, same as question 2.
9. What affirmation can I say to get through this?
Pull 1 card.
Think of something short and simple to remember even if they’re just a few key words. If nothing comes to mind immediately, give yourself the space to contemplate as you soak in all this new information.
Make bullet points to focus on and what you need to remember and do.
Maybe have a journal/tag to track your thoughts and revelations.
Find a friend you can talk to if you need someone.
Guys I’ve never been so obsessed and so freaking in love with a couple like Westallen. I literally cannot watch a single second of their scenes without crying and screaming. We are blessed with cuteness and beauty and grace that is Westallen and I just cannot handle it. I love both of them as individuals but they together… oh boy it’s all I want in my life because they are literally everything 😍😍 I can hear my heart break when I see how much these two are loving each other and honestly if you don’t agree you can fight me because I’m gonna defend them till my last breath (which I have no doubt will be because of them; let’s be honest I died a couple of times in the past watching them and that’s how I would wanna go 😂).
Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels like my soul and heart are getting ripped out every time I see them and loving it because they are literally goals 🙌🏾❤️ I’m thankful that the writers gave (and still giving) us this healthy relationship and I’m thankful for the fandom cuz no matter where you’re from or who you are the love we feel for Westallen connects us and we would pretty much start a war if anything would happen to them 😂😘
P.S. they are so sweet I can’t even choose a gif without wanting to cry ❣️🤷🏾♀️💁🏾
Chapters: 2/? Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017) RPF Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Donald Duck, Huey Duck, Dewey Duck, Louie Duck, Della Duck, Scrooge McDuck Additional Tags: Scrooge and Della aren’t main characters, they just get mentioned - Freeform, No pairings - Freeform, this is just a bunch of snippets, about donald figuring out how to raise the boys, lots of family bonding and fluff, parenting is hard, also, this is a Human!Au, human!AU Series: Part 1 of Charting Maps Summary:
Compared to parenting, sword fighting deadly, ghost pirates during a raging sea storm or getting through cursed and booby trapped jungle temples in search for mythic treasure seemed like the easiest things in the world. And even after nearly 9 years of raising his boys, Donald is still trying to get the hang of it. He isn’t perfect, Lord knows he’s always making mistakes. But he tries to be for his nephews. And if being the most daring adventurer has taught him anything, it’s that you can’t find buried treasure without first charting the map to find it.
OKAY GUYS! LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS FIC~!
This fic was written by the immensely talented @solbabydraws and I want all of you guys to read it! SolBaby graciously gave me permission to post this via my bolide_belle account on Ao3.
This is so sweet and well written and so wonderfully in character. Charting Maps is a wonderful story about Human Donald Duck navigating the uncharted waters of parenthood. He comes up against an almost inevitable parental issue with one of his boys when the school calls and has to handle it.
This story already is so sweet and heartfelt that I’ve read the two chapters multiple times and I cannot wait to read the last two chapters. If you want cute and fluff and family feels. This is the fic.
Im so sorry for anyone I have not replied to!! Christmas is a really hard time for me due to my childhood abuse. Add in all the relationship/court drama and right now is pretty rough.
Still living in my car. In the process of dropping out of college. My mother is trying to send me to rehab for drugs and alcohol. (totally not happing. thank god for being 18). Trying to get everything set up to move across the country. (starting over where no one can find me). And ya. Thats life.
By the way, can the haters please stop? I cannot handle it right now, and I will never understand how people are able to send anonymous messages telling someone to kill themselves. That is horrific. I hope you feel better about yourself and whatever situation you are in to cause you to lash out like that. Just my two cents.
I will be trying to catch up on messages (except hate mail, as you deserve none of my time). Hang in there friends. Love you all and Im proud you are still kicking 😉💖
You can only wear a mask for so long before it slips. For Sasuke, Naruto is the crack in his mask.
Pairings: Sasuke x Naruto
Author’s Note: Just a little something I felt like writing because I was feeling particularly upset about how Naruto ended, so I decided to go ahead and write this and somehow I made myself even sadder, but, oh well.
We wear a thousand masks, a thousand faces, none of them real.
They’re just our façade to be the person everyone wants us to be. The
true one is embedded deep within our souls. Unarmed. Vulnerable.
watch as people walk by me. All of them are wearing their masks, and it
is pathetic, even though I know I do the same thing. I don’t understand
them, and I don’t want to. I am different, an outcast in their little
The war is over. Konoha is once again the place I call my residence – not my home, never my home; my home is not four walls, it’s a heartbeat – and I’ve been reinstated as a Leaf Shinobi. In other words, life seems to have come back to normal. Except…
voice. The one person I always want to run into, yet hope that I don’t
have to face. I halt. Making sure my mask is in place, I turn around.
I take a deep breath. “Naruto. What is it?”
He grins, smile reaching his ears, a twinkle in his eyes. “I have news!”
“Yes I already know they’re going to make you Hokage; that’s not news,” I say dismissively.
“Not that!” he says, “It’s…something else!”
He is sunshine and liquid gold, and I know I cannot live without him by my side.
“So what is it, loser? I’m busy, I don’t have all day.”
He lets out a small huff. “Yeah, yeah I get it. But – “ the smirk returns to his face. “You won’t be too busy on my wedding day, right?”
I feel my breath catch in my throat. Wedding.
I feel myself free-falling into an obsidian abyss. Dammit, no. I cannot let the mask slip.
scowls. “Bastard, at least congratulate me or something. It’s not every
day your best friend gets married!” His grin is back in place. “So
Hinata and I decided that it’s going to be a small thing – just close
friends and family, in honor of Neji. Sakura and Ino have put themselves
in charge of handling everything, and you should just see those two
I tune his voice out. Wedding. Hinata. So he is leaving me alone after all. He won’t be my
Naruto anymore. I want to grab him by his shoulders and shake him till
he sees what’s been in front of his eyes all along. I want to slam him
into a wall, pin him with my body, and ravage him. I want to shout into
his very soul that he is mine, mine and nobody else’s…but my voice, it never comes.
suddenly pops into my mind, and I feel that whirlpool of pain I have
buried somewhere deep inside me threaten to rise to the surface. Why am I always the one to be left behind?
“Huh, Sasuke, did you say something? I didn’t quite catch that.”
I swallow the bitterness back, struggling to keep my mask from falling off. “When’s the wedding?”
ear-splitting grin latches itself onto his face again. “Next month,” he
says. “Can you believe it – just a month and I’ll…” his grin slips a
bit, features taking on a more somber expression. He looks down at the
ground, contemplating something.
I bite down on my lower lip,
wishing things had gone differently. I want everything to go back to
when it was just him and me. When I used to be the center of
his world. So maybe I was a little selfish to always want him chasing
after me, but isn’t that what people do when they don’t want to let go
of someone they love?
He looks up at me, blue eyes filled with an emotion I cannot place. “Sasuke, I…”
ball my right hand into a fist, nails digging into skin. “I have to get
going; my genin are waiting for me, and I really don’t like being
He nods, eyes still not leaving mine. It’s almost as if he’s…searching for…
“Congratulate Hinata on my behalf, Naruto.”
I turn around and start walking before I break in front of him. Keep on walking. Don’t turn around.
Hinata? You never even congratulated me, bastard!” he shouts cheekily
from behind, but I never return it. I keep walking through the streets
of Konoha and into the woods till my knees finally give in.
I let my mask fall to the ground, where it shatters into a million pieces. Uchiha men don’t cry, I tell myself, but somehow, I am powerless against the wracking sobs that heave through me.
wear a thousand masks, hiding ourselves in them. Our masks are
testaments to the fact that underneath it all, we’re just a bunch of
vulnerable humans that are capable of feeling the kind of pain that
threatens to destroy our very existence. Our masks shield not just our
own selves from pain, but others too. Because at times, we have to be
strong, not for ourselves, but for others.
It’s just nature’s way of protecting its young.
It’s my way of protecting him.
In case anyone is interested in seeing my other works, this is where you can find me:
They say home is a place, somewhere you feel safe and content. But tonight I do not feel safe and content, so I say bullshit because a home is more than a place. She is the calm after a gruesome storm, she is the gentle waves crashing into the shore. She is a poem beautiful with her soft words, she is artwork hanging in a museum with her exquisite smile, she is the cool breeze on an autumn day, she is the little gasp after getting the air knocked out of you, she is the clear blue sky on a sunny day, she is everything good in this world. She calms the chaos in my head, she gives me warmth internally, everything she does I’m starting to adore. Even when she’s falling aprart, when she doesn’t know how to handle things. That’s when I think she’s most beautiful because she’s human, she’s flawed. But oh my god she is so beautiful. She is almost intoxicating, just looking at her. And I cannot control how many stomach does flips when I’m around her. She makes me feel safe and content, that– that is what home is to me. Someone who goes home at night and their skin presses to their bedsheets, someone you care so much for at the end of the day that fight you guys had, won’t even matter. Someone who is flesh and bones, someone who has a beating heart and two eyes. That is home, her existence is so beautiful.
So I do lots of community theater and my dad was asking me why I’m not going to be part of A Christmas Carol this year.
Dad: so why aren’t you doing the Scrooge one?
Me: *stumbles over words* …oh they added two more shows and I just don’t feel like getting so exhausted…
Dad: but it’s such a good play, and you love it!
Me: I know…I just can’t.
Dad: I understand.
Me, in my head: I cannot be in A Christmas Carol this year because on December 15th I would have to be at the theater by 7:30 AM and preform the show THREE times. I cannot handle that exhaustion when I’ve stayed out all night in order to watch The Last Jedi at midnight. How could they expect me to do three shows that day when all I’ll be able to think about is Star Wars? Star Wars is more important than Christmas.
Here’s the deal regarding my UT Mob Comics Updates
So, for the past two UT Mob comics, I haven’t been able to update it on time (I usually update them on weekends) and will have to postpone today’s update also.
UT Mob main story is ending, and the comics are just getting longer and more intense that it takes more than two days to finish. I spend between 25+ hours for my comics lately that my wrist and shoulder cannot handle it.
I just want to let you guys know that it’ll take 4 full days to finish my comics, which means two weekends.
I really hate doing this, especially with the story picking up pace and constantly leaving you guys on a cliffhanger, but I’m also feeling burned out lately…So, I’m going to try pacing myself.
Sorry to be doing this, my good friends. I promise you that I WILL update next weekend.
Then Obi-Wan reached out his hand and pressed his palm briefly to Anakin’s cheek. Ahsoka saw his lips move. Saw him say: Well done.
And the look on Anakin’s face, at those two small words, brought her treacherously close to tears.
I’m starting to experience first hand the idea that once you put your artwork out into the world, it doesn’t quite belong to you anymore.
The last piece I did on the columbine massacre, sympathizing with the mother of one of the shooters, is being mistaken for me sympathizing with the shooter himself. It seems as though my illustration is starting to become the poster for columbine fetishists all across tumblr.
So, I’m going to say this once..
In no way do I support or condone the actions of Dylan Klebold or Eric Harris. When I said that Susan Klebold “loved and lost a monster” I truly meant “a monster.” When Dylan Klebold killed 12 students, mainly children, and one teacher, and also injured 24 other people, Susan Klebold didn’t just lose her son, she lost who she thought her son was. That’s because she found out her son had become a monster. Her son was not a monster for dressing strange or for feeling out of place. He was not a monster for feeling depressed and angry. He wasn’t even a monster for his sick writings. He was a monster for slaughtering innocent children.
I pride myself on my ability to empathize with others the best that I can.
Susan Klebold lost not only her son’s life, but also the idea of who her son was. That I can empathize with.
I understand that both Dylan and Eric were mentally sick and had unattended issues they did not know how to handle on their own. That I can empathize with.
I see that Dylan and Eric were hurt and lonely, that they were bullied everyday for being different that others. That I can empathize with.
However, I cannot empathize with two young men who methodically planned and executed a massacre for feeling this way. And I certainly cannot empathize with a group of people who see the actions of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris and want to make loving fan art about what it would be like to date Dylan or Eric. Or how “hot” these killers are. It makes me sick to think that there are people out there who feel as though Dylan and Eric were in the wrong and that all those children deserved to die.
And I DESPISE the idea that these people are using my image to justify their twisted ideology.
However, I do understand that as viewers they are allowed to interpret my work any way they see fit. It’s just that… they’re wrong.
My only hope is that you all understand how meant for my work to be interpreted.
A rewrite of season two which consists of basically taking the bulk of season two and tweaking most if not all of the elements and completely rewriting certain aspects of it. The last thing I want is for this fic to be a disappointment to those who, like me, were already disappointed with season 2 in many ways.
A post here pretty much explains some of my thoughts for what I want to explore in the Fix-It fic, as well as how it could potentially lead to me writing a fan-season three. I’ll preface this by saying right now the fic will be more Shallura than Klance centric due to the narrative arc I’m developing, my comfort level with characterization, and personal preference. That being said, all relationships between the characters will be explored and developed, none shall be romantic aside from the two previously mentioned.
I am currently working my way through chapter one and hope to have it finished by the end of the week. However I do not think I will be posting it right away because I want to have more chapters written in hopes of giving you guys a more regular update schedule than I typically have.
Many of you have expressed interest and support for this project, which I am already so so grateful for. If anyone has suggestions for the fic I would love to hear them, although I cannot promise that they will find their way into the fic, so please don’t be upset if I am unable to.
I’m thinking right now of taking on two or more Betas, however this will be a new experience for me as I’ve never had any Betas before with any of my fanfiction.
As for this post, I feel like I have a pretty good handle on most of the characterization and relationships; however, I do not have much practice in writing them, so I was hoping you guys could give me some tips on what to keep in mind when writing these characters we all love so much.
Hunk: Goofy, intelligent, observant, bit of a worrywart, likes bad puns, supportive towards Lance, gets along well with most people, dramatic af, deadset and headstrong in what he cares about, loyal, attaches to people rather than a cause or ideology, loves his family, engineer
Lance: insecure, a flirt, rational thinker when he’s not trying to actively prove himself, has the need to prove himself, kind of lazy, boastful, cheerful, smarter than people give him credit for, homesick, LOVES his family, adventurous
Keith: hot headed, impatient, talented pilot, scared of being abandoned (??), determined, impulsive, risk taker, lonely, resourceful, kind of pessimistic, biting, tries really hard, does have fun
Pidge: fixated, fascinated by technology, extremely dedicated to her family, secretive, sassy, can be mean, can be selfish, a quick thinker, talented fighter, inventive, night owl
Coran: carefree, optimistic, worries about Allura lot, was close with Alfor, a follower
If anyone has any tips please feel free to share! :)
This is personal but. My junior and senior year math teacher is struggling with stage four cancer (if you watch America’s Got Talent, Evie Clair is his daughter. So her father is my old math teacher) and he’s doing so bad. They’re talking about sending him to hospice now and I’m just truly heart broken. He did so much for me and I feel so helpless. I can’t handle losing someone else. Next month is the year anniversary of losing my grandma, and three months ago I lost my other grandma. That’s two deaths within a year and I cannot handle losing someone else close to me. Losing my grandmas sent me into a really bad and out of control depressive episode and I’ve finally started to get out of it and in a better place, and I’m just scared to go back to that dark place. I just don’t want him to go. He doesn’t deserve this.
(1/2) Hi! So, I'm writing a sci-fi novel where one of the main characters is a Jewish young man, and over the course of the story, he befriends a young woman from the Emirates, who happens to be a hijabi. Their feelings for each other will slowly become romantic, only for the relationship to be teared apart when it is revealed that the Jewish man is a traitor. I have two concerns with this: 1. Is making my Jewish character a traitor offensive or playing in a stereotype? Like, Jews who cannot be
trusted or so? (The figure of power in the story is a Jewish woman who stays ‘good’ until the end, which I think brings balance?) And my second concern is about the interracial relationship between a Muslim woman and a Jewish man, specifically how I should handle the hijab. Is anything offensive from what I’ve described already? And would you have any advice on how to handle the hijab? (Their romance is only a subplot and doesn’t make the whole story, but I wanna get it right.) Thanks!
Jewish Traitor Character and Interfaith Marriage
Sit down and reread what you wrote to us and ask yourself why that’s the natural place your mind went. “Oh, I need a traitor character–I’ll make him Jewish.” Or, “I have this Jewish character, what if I made him untrustworthy?” It’s not your fault. We all grow up living in a world filled with these ideas. Some of us can even internalize them about ourselves which is how you end up with women who think men are all smarter than women, or Black kids who do worse on tests after being reminded about their race. So please don’t take this as me yelling at you.
But really, this is not the kind of thing I’d want to read. Yes, even if there were one good Jewish character to balance him out. Maybe three or four would be okay, so it was clear that it was him that was exceptional, not her. (Two of my books have only Jewish characters so of course the villains are Jewish in those books.) Because if it’s only the two of them, she looks like the “good Jew”, the exceptional one, because he’s got the weight of stereotype on his side–that’s why they can’t cancel each other out.
-Make the character something other than Jewish or
-Add some more Jewish characters who aren’t untrustworthy or
-Change the plot so he’s lying for a reason the audience is supposed to identify/sympathize with.
Like lying to save someone’s life, or the “cause” he “betrays” is actually a bad cause like let’s say someone joins up with a charity and then they find out the charity is lying so they continue to pretend to be a member so they can get secret phone videos of the charity director admitting they’re keeping all the money or something.
I don’t really have anything to say about the interracial/interfaith relationship other than that it’s fine with me and also their families might be a little o_O but that’s normal, that even happens sometimes when two people are the same race and faith and everything just because many parents are super picky about who their precious angel is dating.
I’ll address the second part of this question: regarding interfaith marriages please read my response to this (Hindu-Muslim Marriages).
Regarding the hijab, a Muslim woman does not wear the hijab around her husband or whomever she was dating. Otherwise, I don’t fully understand what you mean by advice on how to “handle” the hijab.