Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
Story - Blog Posts
side show mirrors
You call me an attention whore. Only because my heart screams out for any type of love something you never gave look me in the eyes. And tell me. "I'm always craving attention." All I could do was Laugh. what you call craving attention I call a cry for help. Haven't you noticed that? You never taught me. how to ask for help
life is strange
It's me again! I got some actual designs down for my hybrid story!
The Lion is Preston
The frog is Neil
The chameleon is Nerris
The snake is Max
and the mouse is David
These characters are all posted on my Unvale page, you should check it out!
So, I officially reached 150 pages... I will post the first chapter, but should I post it completely as is, no beta read, no edits, or should i go in and refine it?
@deadandgaysetanta @queen-of-hobgobblers @redkarmakai @sherikookami
!!! Feel free to suggest any with any characters!
(Mystic Messenger preferably)
soft prompts for couples who aren’t together yet
hugs that last a little longer than they should
immediately looking at the other after telling/doing something funny in hope to see their smile
making playlists and mood boards for the other
trying to learn about the others interests
continuously denying others who think they are together
“no we are not together!! … at least not yet…”
finding similar fictional characters who shares the other one’s MBTI and enneagram type
trying to know little things about them by observing
always giving the utmost attention to the other if they are in a crowd
associating random things with them
getting matching key rings
hanging out together often
Sunday x fem reader fluff
It was a bright Sunday morning, and you were lounging on the couch, watching the sunlight filter through the curtains. Sunday Kalgorea, your girlfriend and famous influencer, was busy getting ready in the next room. You smiled to yourself, knowing that even though her followers saw the glamorous, polished version of her online, you got to see the real Sunday—playful, sweet, and always full of love.
You scrolled through your phone, seeing a new post she had just uploaded. It was a picture of her in her favorite dress, smiling that radiant smile that melted hearts across the internet. The caption read, "Sunny mornings are my favorite, but they’re even better with someone special." Your heart skipped a beat, knowing she was talking about you.
Just then, Sunday walked into the living room, her hair still a little messy from rushing but looking effortlessly stunning, as always. She saw you looking at her post and giggled, crossing the room to sit beside you.
“Do you like it?” she asked, resting her head on your shoulder.
“I love it. And I love you,” you replied, wrapping an arm around her.
She smiled softly, turning to kiss your cheek. “I know I spend a lot of time on social media, but you’re the one who really matters. Days like this, just the two of us, are my favorite.”
You squeezed her a little tighter, feeling so lucky to have her. “You’re my favorite too,” you whispered.
Sunday grinned, pulling her phone out to snap a quick selfie of the two of you cuddled together on the couch. She typed up a quick caption and showed it to you before posting: “No filter needed when you’re with the one you love.”
As the picture uploaded, she set her phone aside, turning her full attention to you. “Now, let’s forget about the internet for a while,” she said softly, “and just enjoy our Sunday together.”
And for the rest of the day, it was just you and her—laughing, talking, and making memories that no post could ever capture.
Backstory! Motorcycles are hard to draw.
Click for better quality, maybe? It might be blurry sorry. My camera hates me :)
More information on it if you're interested v
Enjoy!
The two brothers are Hino Ken'ichi and Hino [REDACTED], codename: "Venus".
Venus is the older brother who used to take Ken on rides and basically raised him because their parents were pretty much non-existent.
One day at about age ten, Ken'ichi and Venus' motorcycle disappears and despite all efforts, he and the vehicle can't be found, with Venus' helmet being the only thing discovered. Ken is pronounced dead, assumably having crashed or something else while trying to escape the organization.
Almost a decade passes before one day, Venus sees a older teen sat on what is definitely his old bike with another teen sat behind him. The teen (which he recognizes as Jaxon Finch, who is a junior detective from The PAIA) calls him "Hino".
And Venus knows the voice of the teen driving, it's a little grown up but he'd know it anywhere.
His brother is alive and working with the enemy.
- Hopefully that made sense, thanks for taking the time to read this whole thing -
I did a thing…
Totally not a story in Wattpad… nooo, I would never.
Here’s the link
In the story I’m keeping it secret on who the mc is but if you’ve been following me or seen enough of my posts you’d probably be able to guess easy, so if you do read my story and you came from this post don’t just spoil it for everyone who didn’t see this
Thanks, hope your life’s going well have a nice day!!
i. it's not quite a poem; but saturday was the first day my family saw me in a binder. this includes my extremely catholic deacon of a father. ii. the weird thing about binders is that they make me feel like more of a girl. a better, mirrored version of a girl. i joke with my friends - how the fuck am i gonna explain that to a republican. maybe it's like color theory, i guess (children's hospital notwithstanding). when i wear a dress, i am frequently, vividly - disco-ball spinning and glitter lights - a boy. a boy in a dress. i look in the mirror and i'm like - what the fuck is this?
iii. i had never actually planned to come out. for ten years i only told, like, 5 people; most of whom were my partners. i'm not, like, shy or embarrassed about it - it just wasn't something i felt like i needed to share, really. i kind of feel my gender like. a favorite sweater. you can't really control what your favorite sweater is going to be. it's just like, this is the sweater that's comfy and cozy and you get compliments on so you wear it a lot. half the time you don't even realize it is your favorite unless someone else is like - oh, you're wearing your favorite sweater today, i love that one on you. and that little starburst of gratitude you feel when people care enough to notice this tiny thing about you - like that, i guess. maybe.
iv. i was outed 2 years ago by someone i considered to be a friend. what's wild is that she and i are no longer talking because of something completely unrelated. when i asked her what the fuck she was thinking, she said: you'll see. it's better this way.
v. there are ways it's better. i'll give her that much. i was never, like, hiding it, and all pronouns are fine for me, so it's not like i changed a whole lot. but it was nice; the gentle way people supported me. my best friend asking if i'd feel better in a suit at her wedding, even though i know it would have thrown off the pictures. nick asking me if i want to come along on guy-night pub crawls. plus, like, being in a very beautiful community. it doesn't seem like a lot - but in my adulthood, i've really figured out that life is genuinely and truly about the small things. vi. my father was pretty mad about the gay thing, but lately he's been really really hoping my '"i'm 10% straight in case of emergency" joke is - you know, not a joke. i'm never going to tell him about my gender. sometimes my gender has his ghost in it. i put on the suit and the binder and i'm like that's a possum in a costume. my gender is crying in another room, she couldn't make it to this conversation. plus, she's currently a dude.
vii. at the same time. my mother didn't want to make me upset in case it was a sensitive topic so she asked my sister about it, who asked me. the other day my mom gently corrected my father; using they/them (for the first time!) just-casually, as if she had been practicing - "hang on, i want to hear what they were saying." this woman was raised by irish catholics who didn't allow elbows on the table; much less fruity little troublemakers. my mother went to the library and got herself a bunch of books to learn more about being genderfluid, even though i never asked her to. as the saying goes - those that want to, do.
viii. i don't think i'll ever, like, "look" nonbinary. i know, i know, i know. there's no way to look nonbinary, and we both know i've done the reading and gotten the fancy degree about this. but when i was like 25 someone was measuring me for a costume and said - holy shit you have the same measurements as marilyn monroe except like. dude you're shorter and your waist is smaller. girls are probably killing themselves to look like you. and here's the thing - i know it was meant as a compliment. i know that. but i really, really, really wish i hadn't heard that. because my body is - and probably always will be - extremely, horrifically. feminine.
ix. and at the same time. it's not a poem, but on saturday my family saw me in a binder for the first time, and they were smiling. my sister cocked her head to the side. "it's good, actually. it's not that you look different. it's just like. a better view." she bit off a part of her fry before pointing the rest at me. "i don't know how to describe this, but ... you look more like you."
You remind me of an old seer who resides in a cave, and when young travelers seek you out in search of knowledge, you just sigh and say "I cannot give you what you want, for I speak the ugly truth, and you've come in search of beautiful lies."
But like a few travellers refuse to leave so now you have a ragtag group of starry-eyed listeners who hear out your prophecies and ask you questions, knowing the answer will most certainly be "Bella dies."
And occasionally an outsider comes along, asking about the Cullen's dog and Jacob's redemption, and all of your listeners shake their heads as your eyes begin to glow a burning, terrifying blue, and you say those unholy words, words that have brought monarchs to their knees and caused God to weep.
"Write the fic, anon."
...
I think you win the blog for the month, anon.
Unicycling-stories (part 1)
So today I was unicycling at my local skate park and I tried some new stuff like gliding down a handrail (didn’t work out yet but I get there soon). So after some time some kids showed up, they were between 6 and 11 years old, and one of them went to me and saw that I hurt myself so he stopped me from cycling and started to ask me three times if it hurts and I told him that it didn’t but he didn’t believe me so he told me to stop unicycling and even took my uni and just went away with it and it was so cute that he cared so much and at the same time I was a bit annoyed. But it was funny to watch him take my uni because it was bigger then him. Whatever so as I already said I was too stupid to take some knee protectors so I had to learn my lesson and next time I am definitely going to take all protectors (I had a helm and elbow protectors). Oh also what was the deal with him was that he thought just because it is dangerous and there is a high chance of hurting myself I shouldn’t do it at all. And that is so wrong because just because there is a possibility by getting hurt outside of the house of even inside I don’t stay inside in one room never doing anything because it might hurt me or be dangerous. That is life. And now I am at my point: I love unicycling so fucking much because it is like life (actually even better in my opinion).
Why I would think that:
First of all when you fall down of a unicycle you get up again and you will fall down you will fall down so many countless times always but the point is to get up. Again and again and again maybe not right after you fallen of maybe sometimes you need some time and space but in the end the result is the same: you get up again. And it’s the same with life no matter how often somethings shitty happens you should get up again because the feeling of succeeding in the end of the training is the most ... actually I don’t know how to describe that, it is just like a super happy feeling inside of you and you are so proud in that moment it is just wonderful! Yeah and so it is in life if you get up again and again and solve the problem and defeat it you will get something out of it for sure.
Secondly ... I just lost my whole idea for this blog... whatever I love unicycling and I think it is just great and because none of my friends can relate to that I always stop talking about unicycles and unicycling because they would get annoyed about it. Yeah and now I find the solution through Tumblr because here I can just write about all that and even if no one is interested I still got to talk about it. Whatever so my first uni story has come to an end I will tell you more as soon as something cool happens or I just achieved an other skill on my uni (or at least at one of them XP)
Whatever I have no idea what you normally write at the end of a (long) post so here my signature:
Lia
"Dance with me, will you?
Something that wasn't on my 2025 bingo card was my husband's ex from 7 years ago sending me flowers lol
Pretty nice! :DD
a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town
academy
adventurer's guild
alchemist
apiary
apothecary
aquarium
armory
art gallery
bakery
bank
barber
barracks
bathhouse
blacksmith
boathouse
book store
bookbinder
botanical garden
brothel
butcher
carpenter
cartographer
casino
castle
cobbler
coffee shop
council chamber
court house
crypt for the noble family
dentist
distillery
docks
dovecot
dyer
embassy
farmer's market
fighting pit
fishmonger
fortune teller
gallows
gatehouse
general store
graveyard
greenhouses
guard post
guildhall
gymnasium
haberdashery
haunted house
hedge maze
herbalist
hospice
hospital
house for sale
inn
jail
jeweller
kindergarten
leatherworker
library
locksmith
mail courier
manor house
market
mayor's house
monastery
morgue
museum
music shop
observatory
orchard
orphanage
outhouse
paper maker
pawnshop
pet shop
potion shop
potter
printmaker
quest board
residence
restricted zone
sawmill
school
scribe
sewer entrance
sheriff's office
shrine
silversmith
spa
speakeasy
spice merchant
sports stadium
stables
street market
tailor
tannery
tavern
tax collector
tea house
temple
textile shop
theatre
thieves guild
thrift store
tinker's workshop
town crier post
town square
townhall
toy store
trinket shop
warehouse
watchtower
water mill
weaver
well
windmill
wishing well
wizard tower
So.. this is my new AU, and I’ll explain it.
This all starts with blue medic just starting out on the team, everybody is new to each other on both red and blue teams, and they don’t know one another very well. Blue medics first days don’t start out very well and SOME people don’t treat him very well spite him being the one who keeps them alive during battle.
Over the course of long months blue medic has set up a camera system that can see only some things from the red teams side (of course it did take him a long time to set them up because it’s on the red teams side and it would be hard not to get caught). Blue medic watches them from time to time, mainly watching red medic, his rival, seeing how he gets treated a bit better than he does, on his own team.
Blue medic becomes more and more jealous of red medic, seeing how he also has a good relationship with his heavy, blue medics envy and jealous grows more, making him want to kill red medic more and more, even if he can just respawn over and over, him also not really having a relationship with his heavy. Blue medic goes more insane, all just because he wanted a little more “love” given to him, or even a good friend.
A story within a story where a mother sits her rowdy children down and tells them a story about a the world's sweetest, kindest mother who never lost her temper, never cursed and never yelled at her children, no matter how rowdy they could get. She would only gently, kindly told them to not do the dangerous things. One day she sweetly, kindly told her children to not go play at the riverbank, because it's dangerous and they might slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die. Her children do not listen. They go play at the riverbank, where they slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die.
And the sweet perfect mother of the story comes to the riverbank, sees that all her children drowned, and starts crying so bitterly that angels overhear her, and the angels say to each other, "she does not deserve this, this woman has never done anything wrong in her life, this should not have happened to her", and feeling great pity for her, bring her children back to life, and after that they always listened to their mother and lived happily ever after.
And the storyteller's children, who at this point are familiar with the concept that these stories are supposed to have some sort of a moral or lesson in them, interject to point out that their mother hasn't always done everything perfectly, she isn't always sweet, curses a lot, and as a matter of fact loses her shit at her kids all the time. She isn't like the mother of the story at all.
And their mother agrees: Her children are correct. She is not a perfect mother who has never done anything wrong. Angels will not have pity on her, and they will not bring her little shits back to life if they go to the river and die. So they better fucking not go get themselves killed in the first place.