Hiya my dear friend. My cat wanted to offer his head for scritches for you. We hope you get through the day OK, and know we're always here for you💚
Thank you Katy 🥺🥺🥺

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Hiya my dear friend. My cat wanted to offer his head for scritches for you. We hope you get through the day OK, and know we're always here for you💚
Thank you Katy 🥺🥺🥺
Title: Is Your Bedroom Ceiling Bored (Like Mine)?
Author: @thelucindac [Twitter | AO3]
Artist: @jazrozdrawz
Summary: Quentin catches feelings. A lot. When the love letters he wrote to cope with those feelings get out? He has only one option: pretending to be Eliot's boyfriend, to help Eliot get back at his ex, and to avoid Alice confronting him about her letter at all costs. Everything’s bound to blow over by Eliot’s “contingency plan” of going to Encanto Oculto together... right? Except, Quentin doesn’t know what’s more impossible: that his feelings for Eliot are growing stronger every day, or that he’s starting to believe he actually deserves the love he’s always wanted.
Inspired by "To All The Boys I've Loved Before" (2018)
Read the fic! | See the art!
With the best books, time falls away. But at any point, for whatever reason, you can put the book down, leave it for another time, revisit it another day once you’ve reached the end. With a play, it’s literally alive. And it’s never the same twice. Ever. As much as an actor can memorize something until their brain melts out of their ears? There’s always the chance some tiny thing could make them forget the next line. So they skip ahead, to say something they do remember, or they make up something entirely unpredictable, right on the spot. One single phrase can be a life-changing revelation one day, and be meaningless the next. One audience might laugh at a funny line, and another will stay completely silent, and yet another laughs at something that’s not meant to be funny at all. A fight can go wrong, or it might be the best version it’s ever been. A character cries one day, and tomorrow their eyes are dry. Blink, and you might miss it. Miss any little thing. A few hours later, it’ll be over forever. Until the next one. And that’s saying nothing of being on that stage. Being one of the people responsible for bringing it to life. Sometimes, you find yourself genuinely thinking your character’s thoughts, without even meaning to. You find all these obstacles getting in the way of what they – of what you – want. You end up trying, so hard, just like you do in real life, to get around them, so you can get what you want. Even if you fail, in the end, trying is what’s most important. Then, on top of all that: knowing that everyone in the audience wants something from you. To learn. To alleviate boredom. To find hope again. To let out all these emotions they’ve been keeping secret inside.
My Verse Distills Your Truth by @thelucindac Collection: Magicians Happy Ever After
If you had unlimited $$ to do it, what book would you turn into a movie/tv show, and which roles would you cast Our Favorite Actors in?
Every now and then I think about The Secret History being made into the dark academia series of my dreams so probably that. It’s been years since I last read it and I’m due for a reread so I don’t know how in depth I can get on the casting choices here lmao but I think Hale would be a REALLY fun choice for Henry.
“Mr. Coldwater,” Eliot says. His voice is just above a whisper. Surprised. Uncertain. Delighted.
My Verse Distills Your Truth by @thelucindac Collection: Magicians Happy Ever After
It’s the first time he’s ever really seen all those people as an afterthought. And it’s the first time he feels like the play is for the people actually bringing it to life, not for the ones looking to be entertained just for an afternoon. He’s not one of those people anymore. Never really was, anyway.
My Verse Distills Your Truth by @thelucindac Collection: Magicians Happy Ever After
“You put that much thought into things.” It’s not a question, but a confirmation. Praise. Appreciation. Quentin feels like he’s glowing, like someone’s plucked a star from the sky and lodged it in his heart. Someone understands. And not just in a cursory way. It’s like there’s this room inside himself he’s kept locked and in the dark for so long. This tiny admission was like finally opening its door to someone else. Offering them a candle to see with. And then that person suddenly takes the candle from him, and they’ve gone over to the fireplace, to build a blaze.
My Verse Distills Your Truth by @thelucindac Collection: Magicians Happy Ever After
It’s jarring, how poetic it all sounds. Like Quentin can’t help it. Like he’s got this little way of narrating the people in his life, always going on in the back of his head. Trying to find the best way to describe them, changing the verbiage, never quite landing on the right permutation of words.
My Verse Distills Your Truth by @thelucindac Collection: Magicians Happy Ever After