Mouse Armor by Jeff De Boer
Sorry, but I choose not to kill my soul on the altar of cynicism. Goodness is real. Hope is strength. People can, and do, change for the better.
Joseph Ducreux (1735–1802) was a French artist known for his expressive and unconventional self-portraits. Unlike many portraitists of his time, who adhered to strict formal conventions, Ducreux infused his works with humor, exaggerated expressions, and an almost modern sense of personality.
I've never had an orange cat but I freaking love this. :D
🐌 Need a tiny snail to brighten your day? We suggest the black gloss snail (Zonitoides nitidus). Found across most of the Northern Hemisphere, the shell of this diminutive gastropod typically reaches only 0.2 in (.5 cm) in diameter—less than the size of a penny. This snail is herbivorous, feeding on decaying leaves, fruit, and mushrooms.
Photo: origamilevi, CC BY-NC 4.0, iNaturalist
⇢ Emotional Timing ( When One Opens Up and the Other Isn’t Ready, Yet)
There’s something so devastatingly real about when characters miss each other, not physically, but emotionally. One’s finally ready to be honest, to be seen… and the other? Still hiding. Still pretending. That emotional dissonance creates a whole different kind of electricity: one rooted in vulnerability, silence, and the ache of almost.
“I trust you,” she said, voice low, eyes steady. He looked at her, and for a second, he almost said it back. But then his smile cracked, soft and sad, and he looked away like the words were burning holes in his throat.
This isn’t the moment they fall into each other’s arms. This is the moment they could have. And those moments still haunt.
Use this when:
You want slow burn that hurts a little
Your characters are stubborn, scared, or emotionally constipated (bless them)
The closeness builds from not-quite-connecting, until one of them finally breaks
⇢ Silent Support ( When They Don’t Say It, But They Show It)
Sometimes the most romantic thing a character can do is just… be there. No speeches. No dramatic gestures. Just showing up, quiet, consistent, unwavering. The kind of person who notices when your laugh sounds tired.
He didn’t say anything when he found her curled up on the kitchen floor. He just sat next to her, their shoulders barely touching, and slid his hoodie off without a word. A minute later, she was wearing it. Five minutes later, she was breathing again.
This isn’t about grand declarations. It’s about the kind of love that doesn’t demand to be acknowledged. The kind that waits. That steadies. That speaks fluent silence.
Use this when:
You want to show love without “I love you”
You’re building intimacy through actions, not words
Your characters aren’t the touchy-feely, talk-it-out types
⇢ Emotional Whiplash (When Conflict Turns Intimate Too Fast)
This is the classic “We were fighting five seconds ago and now I want to kiss you” moment. Because nothing stirs up feelings like frustration mixed with closeness. When characters clash, especially if there’s emotional history or denial involved, it creates heat. They’re already fired up. Already in each other’s space. Now throw in a little vulnerability and BAM, you’ve got magnetic chaos.
“Why do you care what I do?” she snapped, stepping closer. “Because I...” He bit the word back, jaw tight. His fists clenched at his sides. She stared, breath caught in her throat. “Because I do,” he said finally, quieter this time. “More than I should.”
Enemies to lovers. Friends to what even are we. That line-blurring, heart-pounding tension where the air is thick and the truth almost slips out, that’s where this trope lives (I Love It).
Use this when:
You want chaos, angst, and chemistry all at once
Your characters are in denial and one good argument away from kissing
You want something to break open and then immediately regret it
Move along, nothing to see here. Just blizzards in Florida + record snowfall in Mississippi and Louisiana + climate change.
The group of five (5) apple seeds have taproots already growing. Three (3) of them have longer ones while the rest have taproots just peeking out.
The group of four (4) have split seed shells.
The remaining group has no taproots growing or split seed shells.
I planted the ones with taproots and split seed shells.
The thing with apple seedlings is that they tend to have a high mortality rate/they're more likely to die. Their first year is their hardest. If they make it past their first year, they're most likely going to be crab apples; not dessert apples or any kind you're probably used to seeing in the store. Not to mention, the fruits won't be like either of their parents due to genetics. Personally, I'm fine with that.
But I got these seeds from an apple I was eating.
Folks, there’s so much wonderful stuff on the Fediverse. Case in point, I found this:
thanks to this toot: https://writing.exchange/@alxd/114422322330256560
Perfect fit