#( ⤷ ask meme weekend )

[kits-ships]

✩ sleepover inspired selfship asks! ✩

send one or more emoji's alongside a fandom or specific f/o! (if applicable)

🌱 Who was your first F/O?

🥀 Talk about some of your fictional crushes and why they aren’t your F/O!

🎉 Tell us some fun facts about your newest selfship!

📦 Who are some F/Os you no longer ship with? Why?

📸 Make a moodboard for you and your F/O!

🎵 List three songs that remind you of your selfship.

📝 Give us a piece of a WIP involving your F/O (writing, art, etc.)

💟 Give us an embarrassing/secret headcanon you have about your F/O!

🧾 What’s your favorite headcanon someone else has made about your F/O?

💭 What’s your favorite uncommon headcanon about your F/O?

💢 What’s an unpopular opinion you have regarding your F/O?

🚩 What are some of your F/O’s flaws? Any red flags?

💌 How did you/your F/O confess your feelings to one another?

💗When did your F/O first say ‘I love you?’

🌺 How do you and your F/O cuddle?

🛀 What’s your favorite mundane thing to do with your F/O?

🎀 What’s your favorite thing about your F/O’s appearance?

🎠 What’s your favorite thing about your F/O’s personality?

🎡 What’s your dream date to go on with your F/O?

💚 Who are you most jealous of when it comes to your F/O?

🌠 What’s a crack selfship that you’ve thought of?

🎇 Which is the most CURSED crack selfship you’ve thought of?

♨️Did your platonic F/Os tease you about your feelings for your romantic F/O?

🔒 What does your platonic F/O think about your F/O? Are they overprotective of you?

🍦 What do any familiar F/Os think about your romantic F/O?

proshippers dni - this isn't for you ✩

[ekingston]

Bro the moodboard and title knocked me on my ass I'm scared of what the story will do to me 🥲🥲 thank you in advance lol

hahaha thank you so much! i never realized the full paper dress up doll potential of photo manipulation and now that i have i fear i might never stop! here’s the full version (i only saved an earlier one unfortunately, before i fixed her ear and her studs and some other small flaws, so don’t look too closely)

(here’s the fic it goes with)

[jtl-fics]

Fully forgot it was wip wednesday until I opened tumblr and saw your post! Anything for the math nerd au? It’s truly hilarious to imagine the different ways Andrew could attempt to (and fail at lol) “seduce” Neil away from his future self

WIP Wednesday (Closed) | Math Nerd AU

They're sat up in silence on the roof. Neil sitting close and just breathing in his smoke. Neil's penchant for sitting up here with him and breathing in his smoke is Kevin's one complaint about his Striker choice. It's not rare for the other Striker to come up to the roof if he feels that Neil has sat here breathing in Andrew's smoke second hand for too long.

"You'll destroy your lungs!" Kevin hisses every time without fail.

"I don't think smoke will be what kills me." Neil smiles every time but lets himself be lead off the roof by Kevin every time without fail.

But the next night Andrew will find Neil waiting up on the roof for him. Neil always offers to leave but Andrew has yet to make him leave.

"Kevin hates that you sit up here like this." Andrew finds himself saying because if he frames it as a question then he'll have to wait for Neil to ask his.

"Kevin can hate it if he wants, just like you can ask me to leave if you want." Neil returns.

Andrew doesn't want Neil to leave. "I don't own the roof." he says as if he hasn't chased numerous people away during his time as a Fox.

Neil laughs as if he knows.

Andrew bites the bullet and can only hope that Neil will lob him another question soon.

"Why do you like it?" Andrew asks.

Neil's laugh is softer, sadder, and suddenly Andrew knows without hearing the answer.

[shoshiwrites]

Unfortunately, bad thunderstorms mean I missed my train, BUT it’s lightening up a little bit now and staying late at work meant I could show a couple of documentary filmmakers an item in our collections they hadn’t seen during the rest of their visit. And I just ordered myself an iced coffee for the commute home.

[delucadarlingwriting]

19 for Lucas and Adam? For the kiss writing meme!

Ask for a Kiss!

Thank you nonny!!! I love any excuse to write about these boys.

***

“Get back! Luke!”

Those words in Adam’s voice echo through his mind as he crashes beneath the surface of the icy lake. Cold steals his senses entirely, leaving him paralyzed and unseeing as he sinks. Still, he hears Adam’s voice. 

Luke. 

A rare treat, to have Adam use the name only his closest friends call him by. As rare as seeing the dimples that Lucas has found himself addicted to drawing out of the usually stoic man. His heart thumps, drawing up a memory of the last time he’d seen them. He’d been trying to run a training session with Lucas, teaching him to fight properly. A pretty fruitless endeavor, but when Lucas had managed to trip Adam up with an outstretched leg, his reward had been a barking laugh and Adam’s cheek dimpling adorably. He hopes he gets to see that again. Can’t do that if he dies here.

Jerking, Lucas tries to right himself in the water. Fuck, it’s cold. Really cold. It’s not his first time going under ice, and he’s a better swimmer now than he was then. The main problem is that it's so dark and his vision so blurry he can’t figure out where he fell in. The last thing he wants is to swim up only to bash his head against ice. 

He might not have a choice. As he looks up more and more frantically to try and find an air hole, his vision blurs and panic starts to take hold.

At just that moment, something moves above him, a figure approaching. Even if he can’t see it well, Lucas just knows who it is and kicks towards him. Adam comes into view, snatching Lucas by the lapels and dragging him in. Their faces bash together painfully before Adam grips Lucas by the jaw, locks their mouths together, and then blows hard. Lucas’ lungs fill with air, immediately untangling the fear digging into his spine. 

He doesn’t get a second to recover, he’s immediately grabbed and hauled up. Lucas tries to loosen Adam’s grip on him, knowing he can swim just fine on his own now, but Adam is unrelenting. Shocker. Admittedly, Adam is swimming at a far faster pace than Lucas can manage at the moment, so he doesn’t fight it much. He even kicks along with him, for all the good it will do. 

They break the surface just in time for Lucas’ lungful of borrowed air to expire, and the first thing he does upon sucking in an icy breath is to yelp, “Jesus fuck.”

“No kidding!” Farah says from just a foot or so away. She’s on her belly, amber eyes shining with worry. “Now come here. I’m going to tow you back.”

“So fucking cold,” Lucas grumbles, allowing himself to be shoved and tugged until he’s on the surface of the lake’s icy crust. He works with Farah to wiggle across, until they’re close enough to shore that Nat and Mason can snag them and haul them over. Naturally, Adam just busts the ice apart with his fists as he swims, then drags himself out. 

“Didja get the—” Lucas starts to ask. Mason stops him by holding up the artifact they were after before Lucas fell in. “Sick. Better be worth it.”

“Well, you’re not dead yet, so probably worth it,” Mason says. Nat throws him a look that he immediately pretends not to notice. Lucas laughs, even if it hurts. 

“Yet is correct,” Adam says, though his teeth are chattering so badly it’s hard to hear. Nat hurries to throw his coat on over his shoulders, but Adam shakes it off and moves to tug it around Lucas instead. “We need to dry you off and warm you up, now.”

“Sure,” Lucas says with a shrug. Farah peers all the way up at him, brows furrowed.

“What’s with your nose?” Farah asks. She reaches up to tap the bridge of Lucas’ nose, making him hiss and recoil at the sudden flash of pain.

“Shit.” He gingerly tries to feel if it’s crooked. “Adam, if your little stunt broke my nose—”

“You’re welcome,” Adam replies dryly, then in a tone that brooks no argument, he adds, “Get in the car.”

Lucas stomps wetly over to the SUV, Nat and Mason helping him to weave less than he would without them on either side of him. He complains loudly about his face being ruined, doing his best to not ruminate on whether that’s the only kind of kiss he’ll get out of Adam from now on.

[ellies-enrichment]

heres a little enrichment i didnt make silly memes today but i made 2 videos

[sparklepocalypse]

for the sleepover: what is your favorite scene you've ever written?

Hi! i'm going to go with written and published because my absolute favorite is actually just a bit of extremely spoilery dialogue and blocking from Facing Tempests (AKA KHIX, AKA the Big Giant AU).

In So I Will Weather the Storm, my RWRB advent fic from last year, I wrote a scene in which RAF rescue helicopter pilot Henry has to hold heating packs on Alex's neck because they keep falling away from his skin, and this happens:

As the helicopter continues onwards and his shivering subsides, Alex finds himself watching Henry, who seems adamant about looking everywhere but at him. It rankles him a little, and if he weren’t strapped down so firmly to the gurney, he might grab the chin strap beneath his stupid, perfect face and — And, what? Make him look? Force his eye contact? Make him acknowledge Alex instead of just finding him wanting and dismissing him, like he always has? Alex has no idea where these thoughts are coming from, but once they start, he can’t seem to stop them — until he feels the tip of a thumb stroke lightly at the hollow of his throat, and his mind goes silent for a moment. Then it happens again, with another whisper-soft brush of skin against skin, and again. Prince Henry’s face reveals nothing. He’s still turned partly away, his expression still distant, and it dawns suddenly on Alex that the prince might not even realize what he’s doing.

It continues in this vein, with Alex's cantankerousness slowly falling away under the wave of curiosity and unexpected tenderness, and I just, IDK. It scratches my brain the right way.

Sleeover weekend: ask me things!

[good-old-kooks]

SPADESGORE 1, 11, 12, 16 (I WANT THE WHOLE LIST BUT I’LL HAVE MERCY AND ONLY ASK A FEW LOLLL)

Oh this is hilarious I'm not used to answering asks on my reblogs acc

This is the og post btw

1. Asgore unironically asks "Would you still love me if I were a worm?" All teary eyed and shit. Spade is baffled beyond belief just trying to comprehend the question. "What no why would I love a worm" he says. Asgore tears up more. "To reduce you to a worm would rid you of your personhood, you wouldn't be you anymore!" Asgore doesnt feel consoled, if anything he looks sadder. Spade is even MORE confused "Asgore this question is rediculous!! Stop crying for god's sake!!!!!"

11. Who makes the most typos? Asgore. Man is shit at spelling he left that shit in high school. Plus English is a second language for him and German is his first so sometimes he adds an extra c or h that doesn't belong there. In contrast Spade is literate to a fault and can recite parts of the dictionary out of spite.

12. This ones really funny bc at first I didn't understand the question - Asgore is actually very nervous pre-flight, about catching the right flight and not being late and stuff, mostly bc its not the same as missing a bus. Meanwhile Spade's afforded this luxury more times than he can count so the procedure's normal to him. What procedure you ask? He acts nonchalant pre-flight, but once they're in their seats he does NOT put down the safety manual. Doesn't matter what class he's flying he is reciting that shit from top to bottom man is PARANOID. Meanwhile Asgore is actually very excited and eventually relaxed once the actual flying starts. Its like a switch flips with them both. Spade is most terrified of landings and turbulance in specific.

16. This technically shouldn't even be a question, Spade is always down for murder, ESPECIALLY if he thinks its morally justified in some way. Asgore isn't really the type to kill FOR someone (at least he wouldn't phrase it that way to himself) but he is Absolutely the type to go "I would die for you" and in response Spade is always like "I would kill for you". They are both unwell.

Also fun fact I actually wanted to use this ask meme as like prompts for drawings so one day you might get the full list in Spadesgore 😈

[hourcat]

lewierre + heat

it's a bad idea to do this at any race, pierre knows, but especially singapore: the heat is relentless, and it's all day, and not even two ice baths a day will do the job for most drivers.

that apparently doesn't stop lewis, though--pierre is helpless against him as they kiss pressed up against the back of the mercedes motorhome, the metal siding having apparently absorbed every ray of sun imaginable as it burns right through pierre's too-thin alpine shirt. it's part of the reason he keeps arching into every movement between them: every second he's plastered head-to-toe against lewis is a second he's not being burned alive, an additional bonus to the dizzying way his body fits so effortlessly against pierre's own.

"needy," the mercedes driver teases as they split yet again, voice remarkably even for the thoroughness with which he's been devouring pierre inch-by-inch, "you know we can't do anything until the weekend is over, gasly." he grins, smug as ever, and it's a crime the way he's this sexy even now, when he's pushing all of pierre's buttons like a kid in an elevator--when he shoves gently at pierre's shoulder to ease him off, it sends the frenchman back to the burn of the motorhome's exterior, digging sharp right at the center of his spine like he's being branded with his need.

send me a ship and a word and i'll write you five sentences <3

[bropunzeling]

normally i am looking at a scene like is this horny enough? do the gestures convey enough intimacy? and let me tell you it's bizarre to revise a paragraph like no this is too horny and intimate for where they are supposed to be at. we gotta scale back and slow down.

[oculusxcaro]

While Khare wasn't exactly considered a 'success' by PROMETHEUS, there are times where her body does function according to plan. One of these are enhanced capabilities, particularly in regards to improved jumping thanks to the frog DNA inserted into her genetic sequence. One time when walking to Pauli's, Khare was startled by a group of young thugs calling out and running after her. When met by a dead-end, she jumped straight up and on top of the building, losing the group but ended up arriving late to work as she struggled to find a way down after getting on top of a (very) high roof.

[rookflower]

Your art is so pretty anyway uhhhh... Tigerheart 132 maybe?

Sunflower in the morning

Standing in the garden

All before you wake

[itspileofgoodthings]

Cheese Tonite Queen 👀

S C R EA M

[tathrin]

Hi! Can you talk about the 'Thranduil: A Crown of Silver and Blood' WIP, please?

Certainly! Thank you. So it's actually the same concept that @babybat98 talked about in their post here, about Thranduil being crowned during the Last Alliance after Oropher's doomed charge, and I only have a little bit more of mine than they do of theirs but I'll give you what I have got so far:

Thranduil had never been meant to be a king.

He knelt on the battlefield, knees stained with blood and mud, and oh! how his heart longed for his forest. How his heart longed for his fathers. The first lost so many years ago in the ruin of Doriath and mourned forever; the second a grief too new and raw to yet be understood. None of them had ever been meant to be kings.

Greenwood had had no king when Thranduil and his father arrived with a handful of refugees from Doriath; kings and lords and court were not things the Silvan elves who lived in that great forest had ever bothered to establish. They needed no kings, no lords. They lived a simpler, purer elven life; free of the influence of the Valar and their wars. But war had come to all of Middle-earth, and the Greenwood had chosen to stand with their distant brethren against the Shadow.

Their Sindar asylees had warned their Silvan fellows, when they prepared to march off and join the war, that without a king the High Elves and the Gondorians would look down on the people of the Greenwood; and so they had crowned one, and sent Oropher before the lords of Elves and Men to stand for the woods and the Wood-elves. Lórien had added their banner and force to the Greenwood, rather than pledging allegiance to Gil-galad; the Wood-elves of neither forest were keen to bend the knee to a Noldor. They would fight with them, and with the Men who stood beside them; they would not be ruled by either.

And thus they had chosen a king, so that the noble lords of the Alliance would not discount the Wood-elves' strength, their value and their valor; so that they would look on them not as an uncivilized rabble to be commanded, but rather as equals to respect and fight beside.

Still they had not been seen as equals; still they had been left to fight alone.

And now their king was dead, and so many of their people that Thranduil could not yet bear to count them. Oropher and Amdír both were dead, and more than half their people with them. His fathers were both dead now, and Thranduil knelt in the mud, orphaned and alone.

Tiraran stood before him, his face impassive and his eyes streaming with hurt. He held the thin crown of Greenwood in his one good hand; the other, rotting from both orc-poison and the Black Breath of the Nazgûl he had so bravely stood against, was bound tight against his chest.

It was that wound that had spared him from the dreadful charge across the Dagorlad, that wound which had saved his life when so many of his kin had perished; confined to the Healing Tents, he had not been allowed to join his friend and kin upon that killing field. He should have been there still, but he was as stubborn as any elf of Greenwood; he had demanded to be brought to the field, and he stood now on shaking legs before his dear, dead friend's son and offered him their simple silver crown.

Talk about how that wound is what kept Tirarn from the battle; what kept him alive, when almost all the forces of Greenwood and Lórien alike now lay dead upon this killing field, slain by Sauron's dark minions and by the pride of their allies who proclaimed themselves the leaders of his ill-begotten Alliance. Thranduil knows that Tiraran, too, is wondering if things would have been different if he had not been lying in the Houses of Healing—where he should be, still; but he bade himself be carried to the battlefield for this, and stood now upon trembling legs to crown his king, his dear dead friend's son. If he had been there at the side of Oropher and [LÓRIEN DUDE], would it have made a difference? Would his quiet sense and patience have been enough to quench the blaze of Sindar pride in the face of Noldor ego? Would he have been able to keep his own patience, and argue against the charge? Would he have been able to talk them out of it? If he had been beside his friend, would all those Wood-elves yet live?

Thranduil bowed his head and Tiraran placed the crown upon his head.

It was a thin band of braided silver, three pale moonstones across the brow; three white gems, his father had laughed when he had had it made, to mock the Noldor who had brought this war to them and were too proud to accept the fault of it. The bitter looks of the High Elves who saw the crown, and understood the dark jest behind its design, had set a grim smile on Oropher's face as he walked among them.

But Oropher would walk no more, and now the crown rested on Thranduil's head. It sat there like a brand, burning; he almost fancied that he could smell the smoke of its deadly touch upon his hair, but that was fanciful illusion. The crown did not scorch him, for all that it seemed it should; and here in Mordor, there was naught to smell but blood and the filth of the great Shadow.

Thranduil rose. The crown was light, a thin band; pretty enough in its design, but cheap and plain; hardly a crown by the standards of the Noldor. Thranduil lifted his head. He would bear it proudly nonetheless.

The crown was heavy; it seemed to press him deep into the mud. The crown was heavy, like the unbearable weight of grief; heavy, like his breaking heart.

. . . .

Upon returning to Greenwood, Thranduil will throw the crown away, never wanting to wear the horrible thing again. He is no longer a king; Greenwood no longer needs a king, so neither he nor his forest have need any longer for the torture of a crown. 

When Tarlas gently points out, later, that he's going to need a crown if he's going to act as king for them in matters dealing with the wider world, Thranduil will snarl and refuse to ever touch the thing again. He is a Wood-elf king of a Woodland realm, is he not? Then let him crown himself with leaves and flowers; let him crown himself with his own forest, if he is to be the king of it.

Children—for there were many children born in the years of light after Sauron's fall, and the much-diminished trees rang, briefly, with the silver song of their laughter; Rilaerloth has many friends, when she is young, although she is one of the eldest of them and accepts the role of leader in a big sisterly fashion, just as her father finds himself quickly deemed father to the whole forest. Children braid him flower crowns out of joy, after they see him wearing them when he returns from or finishes speaking with some outside ambassador; it becomes a favorite pastime of the children, and they compete with one another to craft the best, and even make a game of trying to snatch away the crown someone else gave him so that he will wear theirs instead. Thranduil laughs at this, and is glad of it, and ignores the sidelong looks of outsiders at both the game and the lack of jewels and finery upon his brow.. He is a woodland king; the woodland, thus, shall be his crown.

And the children are so happy.

[diamondfeng]

🕯️- jac

Jac? She's my little sister, and I love her even if we don't always get along. I mean, that's how siblings are, right? All of us Fengs. We were honestly closer when we were younger and things were simpler. But she and I are far enough apart in age that I'm focusing on bigger pictures like my career and relationships. But that doesn't mean Jac doesn't have her own important things going on too... Anyways. Sometimes I just have to wonder why her element is air. Or why she of all people got the affinity there. I guess it suits her, mostly quiet and unseen. On the one hand, yes, I'm a bit jealous. But I love my earth magic. It's just... frustrating to have her trying to teach me when she's still learning everything herself, you know? And I'm sure she'd rather not be wasting her time trying to explain things to me. She probably should have had a more common element if she was going to be such a late bloomer, it's just another one of those ways it's hard to connect with her. But still, Jac will never not be family. For better or worse. I think that will always be important. I want Jac to be happy. Even if we get compared to one another a lot despite our elements being pretty much opposites.

[dapperbasil]

1, 20, and 52 for our friend Miss Tammy?

Hi Emi! Thanks for asking, these were fun to answer. Sorry for them being a little late this was a busy weekend!

How does your OC feel about pet names? Might they rather enjoy them with a partner, but find them excrutiatingly embarassing if used in public?

Tammy loves the idea of pet names, but in practice she hardly gets any use of them. That's mostly because Zacharias doesn't like them all too much himself, and any they tend to use for each other are very simple. Tammy has a habit of calling him dearest, while when he is making an attempt at being affectionate he will call her his greatest treasure. They're sappy when they want to be, and often will be so around others. They don’t care what anyone else thinks.

There are moments where they very jokingly use those overly outrageous or silly names for the fun and absurdity of it. They only do this at home, as it often leads to the two of them laughing and affectionately play fighting with one another if they’re especially atrocious. Zacharias is particularly guilty of doing this unprompted, partially because he knows it always gets her and partially because he likes watching her reactions go from flustered to full on attack mode (in a good way).

20. Does your OC cry at weddings? Did they cry at their own (if they've had one?)

Tammy can be quite emotional at times, though it takes a lot to make her cry. She didn't cry at any of Reid, Mariette and Malachi’s weddings, but she did get very emotional for her friends. At those times she had thought marriage was off the table for her, so she put all her effort into being happy for her coterie. Reid, Malachi and Mariette seemed so happy together that she couldn't help but wish she could have that happiness for herself. There was a little jealousy there during those events, but she buried that to be happy for one of her closest friends.

One wedding she did cry at was Trevor and Sarah's. It was a monumental occasion, the wedding of her two ghouls who had been together from right when Trevor was ghouled. The two of them were like children to her, and she was so proud to be able to help make their special night absolutely perfect. When she watched Zacharias walk Sarah down the aisle, she couldn't help but cry. There had already been talks about embracing Trevor and Sarah in the future, so to her these were already her childer.

Needless to say, Tammy cried at her own wedding. She had never expected Zacharias to propose, and Tammy had long since accepted that their relationship would probably stay out of public eyes. The blatant declaration of his feelings that was the manner in which he proposed was the reassurance she never expected to get, and the constant love and understanding he gave her throughout the troubles leading up to the ceremony simply hit a new height the night of. She tried to keep herself together the best she could, but it was simply so much for her that she couldn’t help but cry. I’d go into more detail here but… That’s a spoiler for a much bigger project I have been working on in the background for awhile. ;)

52. Would (or does) your OC make a good "wingman" for their friends socially?

This is a fun one, because logically she would. She’s very charismatic and knows what people want to hear. She understands how people think, and the right way to tailor a situation to other people. She did encourage Milly to pursue Reid, upon learning about her crush on him, helping her start to come to understand her feelings for him.

In practice, she doesn’t really get the chance. Kindred tend to be very fickle, and relationships make this much more difficult. Most of her friends are already in committed relationships, or don’t want one. Tammy is the last in her coterie to end up in a romantic relationship, and the last to get married. If you need someone to talk you up, she’s here. But nobody’s really asking for it.

[Amorous Asks Meme]