#(Because I usually didnt post on the Day of Finishing a piece)

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[koushirouizumi]

{Excerpts from Repeatverse Pt. 5} (KouxTai A.U.s Edition): {U n i v e r s i t y} A.U.

(Written by Me) (DO NOT Re-post) (DO NOT RE-PRODUCE MY WRITING Without My Permission UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE)

[gunnrblze]

Roommate!Hesh

Hello friends. This is my first actual lil piece of writing I’m posting (in this fandom, on this account lol). I’m debating turning it into a full fledged fic, so if you’re intrigued by that I’d love to know! Not to abase myself or anything, but my writing is quite mid lmfao, I just enjoy my silly thoughts n ideas so here you go :)

•1k+ words, SFW, could possibly be read as some slight stalker-ish behavior if you squint, but nothing actually dark like that! The man is just down bad :(

You weren’t exactly sold on living with a stranger yet. Especially not some army guy, but you had little choice.

Desperately needing a roommate after moving to Santa Monica, a friend mentioning a friend of theirs who has a brother. A brother who happens to be looking for a roommate too.

You trusted your friends judgement enough to pursue the recommendation. Figuring that living with a special forces soldier could either be pleasantly uneventful, or a dumpster fire, based on what you knew of the type.

But David, or Hesh as everyone reportedly calls him, was decent. Clean, respectful, kind when he toured you around the apartment. The near boyish charm that laced itself between his heavy presence may have caught your attention.

But a fling, especially with a new roommate, was not what you needed.

Your room was smaller than his, but having gotten to the apartment second to him, you understood first come first served. You just enjoyed the in-unit washer and dryer and stainless steel appliances, if you were being honest.

The apprehension you had, the hang ups of starting a new chapter, moving in with someone you only just met through a friend of a friend, started to dissipate sooner than anticipated. Instead filled in by a dull surprise.

Hesh worked pretty often, but even when he wasn’t around, it’s as if he were still there.

His section of chores always finished, some of yours even started or done completely for you. You asked him about it after divvying up the household responsibilities, making sure you weren’t confused.

But he insisted it was “no biggie”, he’d just found himself taking the trash out on his way to work. Tidying the kitchen up after he got home in the middle of the night and cooked himself an impossibly late dinner.

Said dinner he left in the fridge the next morning, a sticky note on top explaining that you should finish it up so it doesn’t go bad.

Leftovers usually kept for days though, didn’t they?

His boots by the front door, the smell of his aftershave somehow lingering everywhere throughout the apartment, his hat left in the bathroom and the goddamned coasters that he insisted be used around the living room.

When he wasn’t there, it felt like he was. A ghost permeating the walls. His broad frame, tall and wide, voice deep, green eyes that somehow always landed on you when he was near. They weren’t quite unsettling eyes, they were penetrating. As if he could see what lie inside you, too.

But when he was there, it felt almost arresting. Interrupting. You barely knew him, only lived with him for a few weeks.

But you weren’t sure whether you could tell if it even felt that way anymore.

Anything he bought, you were free to use or eat. Was he just that nice? Your old roommates wouldn’t let you touch their things with a 10 foot pole. But what was his seemed to be yours in a way, too.

You chalked it up to him being an eldest child. But you weren’t merely being treated like a younger sibling.

Your Netflix subscription ended and you didnt want to spend the money to renew it, but it didn’t matter because Hesh had Netflix too. Which meant you had it.

Hesh had every kind of household tool one could need in his toolbox, which meant that you had them now too.

Except you couldn’t use them. Because he’d fix whatever you needed. Hang up any picture frame of yours on your wall as you started to decorate your space. And you merely let him, somehow unable to insist that you could indeed, handle it.

It was only natural when he’d asked if you wanted breakfast one morning, explaining that he made too much food. Too much of your favorite food. Or when he not so subtly watched how you made your tea, filing it away in his brain so he could bring you a cup one day when you were sick in bed.

And then some cough drops. And soup. And cold medicine.

Maybe you felt a bit like a guest at a bed and breakfast, or maybe he was just raised decently.

When the washing machine broke, he took a look at it before you could even bring it up to him, was he listening to you in the laundry room? Hard to say. Fixed it so you could do your loads of laundry.

But not before letting you borrow a t-shirt of his, since all your clothes were dirty, of course. You’d obviously have to wash the one you had on, too.

You thought you were surely screwed when your car broke down outside of work one day. But when you texted Hesh and asked if he knew of a good mechanic. he was, naturally, already in the area just running errands.

So he took a look at your car while you stood to the side and watched. Making a point not to watch his biceps flex around the ring of his t-shirt sleeve, or the way he brushed the sweat off his forehead.

Surely you were paying attention to his explanation of the drive belt in your car being too wore out, and not the way his fatigues stretched over the meat of his thighs.

Why was he in his work uniform if he was just running errands? You didn’t think about it very much.

Your job had been stressing you so much, and it appeared something like second nature for him to wrap you into a hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back, murmuring things that seemed too dulcet for a roommate of hardly even a month to soothe you with. Even though it helped.

He was always there, his magnetism suffocating. But not in the way that two hands might feel around your neck. But in the way the sunshine feels beating down on you. The way you feel tipsy before feeling fully drunk, charged but blissful.

Pleasantly inescapable.

You didn’t really stop to fully question his comforts though, not when he made you a cup of tea and put a movie on in the living room, sitting a bit too close to you.

Not that you minded of course, considering you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

And what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t pick you up and tote you off to your bedroom? He knew you were half awake, and you knew he knew, but it didn’t matter.

With one arm hooked under your knees and the other around your back, your face that didn’t need to be pressed to his chest, it just didn’t matter.

Because what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t lay you in your bed and cover you up, setting your alarms on your phone so you’d wake up the following morning?

How did he know your passcode? How did he know exactly what alarms you set?

It didn’t really matter to you after he kissed your head goodnight.

[c1oud999]

hi

i just wanted to come on here and talk about my experience with spirituality. warning: longggg post ahead.

basically ive been in the spiritual community for YEARS now. ive had existential crisis since the age of 11 and ive gone through many phases of many different spiritual trends. from law of attraction, to witchcraft, to religious devotion, to law of assumption and now finally non dualism. i read books, meditated for hours and hours, talked to spiritual ppl from all walks of life and watched all the episodes of ganga upanishad (a show i still highly recommend, you can watch on youtube). all this childhood trauma and mental illness made me crave for sweet relief. but nothing really made sense until law of assumption. i thought that that would be it yk. i thought i was done searching but i think that was when i was searching for things the most. i do know i have it in my 4d, when will i see it? i thought i would get all my desires but did not meet success. and then the non dualism trend began and i hopped onto it like pretty much everyone else. i was bewildered at the stuff teachers kept saying. what do you mean everything's an illusion? there's no way that's true. my very real surroundings are causing me VERY real pain and suffering. oh no no there must be a deeper meaning behind all this. and so i read all the books in 4dbarbies drive, but nothing clicked. yes it made sense intellectually, but i didnt want to believe it bc where is the materialisation satisfaction here? also i felt none of the euphoria that was supposed to come with self realisation. which means i must not be a realised being. and then i cried and cried and cried, isolated myself, literally stopped going to school and just lay in bed all day. but ofc, i continued to read the tumblr posts like i had been doing for the past several years. and yesterday i read 4dkelly's post about giving up. it made sense. by the time i had finished reading the post i had truly given up on everything. on wanting, hoping, fearing, striving etc etc. i was SO tired. so i gave up. fell asleep. i woke up really late as usual and missed the school bus. i ate breakfast in silence, switched the tv on and lied down on the couch like always. and like always out of compulsion and force of habit i reached for my phone and looked up non dualism on twitter. and then i came across a tweet that said a simple sentence only- "nothing is ever actually happening." woah. that kinda drove me to the edge of the cliff i desperately wanted to jump off. i turned on some dnb background music and turned the shower on. i stood under the boiling hot water like some dramatic bitch and started piecing together the "puzzle". it all made so much sense now. i got out of the shower and left the house for the first time in months with a cute outfit and makeup on and everything. i went to the mall, bought candles, stickers, eye masks, coffee, and a doughnut with absolutely no social anxiety at all. i sat by window, read some poetry on my e-reader, cried, peered down at the floor below me and cried some more at the sight of little kids sitting on santa's lap and taking pictures and marveled at all the christmas decorations around me. it was insane. i decided i was going to be neutral towards everything but im in love. maddeningly so. in love with this dream that i thought did not love me back. but love is all there is. I AM ALL THERE IS. and i need you to take this literally. there is nothing happening. there is nothing here except you. nothing to fear, nothing to desire. ik a lot of people are going to dismiss this post because it's not a "materialisation success story" but i honestly dont think i can ever want anything physically bc in all its true essence, what is there to materialise? i am already whole and complete. i am lying on this cold hard floor, but i have never felt warmer. also ik there may be a lot of things ive written you might not agree with but again, this is NOT REAL. I AM. i hope this post helps you.

thank you to all the blogs ive come across and all the pointers they have shared: @se1f @realisophie @itgomyway @4dkellysworld @4dbarbie-backup @infiniteko @iamthat-iam and many more i cannot thank enough.

lots and lots of love (more than you can ever imagine), and good luck.

[frennziee]

IM SCREAMING RIGHT NOW

OKAY- so im watching pd ( i just finished the last episode of season one i know im a little behind lol) and i was reading comments and i saw someone say (of course i cant find it now) that they liked that over time the logo at the start got progressively more cracked as the boys went through harder stuff. first of all I AM SO MAD I DIDNT COMPREHEND THIS AT FIRST like yeah i noticed it got more cracked but it didn’t even register that it was on purpose😭😭 but this is SO COOL OH MY GOD- i have screenshots of some of the episodes so yall can see what i mean . im going to put what episode there from under them.. my mind is blown and yall need to see this

episode 11 (the first time we see this logo i think)^^

episode 18 (quite the jump but i bet if you go back to like episode 14 it looks more cracked than 11 but less than this one)

episode 22 (we got some new cracks- i saw the one on the R first lol and that one piece from the P is going places)

EPISODE 24‼️ JUST LOOK AT IT AHHH- the colors are muted, shit flying everywhere, not to mention the music and how it was slowed and muffled a ton UAH- (it scared the shit out of me at first lol) and the episode itself?? i nearly cried lol “i would let the world burn before id watch my friends die” SHIVERS “its all right guys- i had a feeling it would go like this.. but you guys are safe.” IM CRYING. LITERALLY SOUL CRUSHING. (yakko good god my heart cannot take this please spare me) but it was SO GOOD im going nuts-o over here man-SCREAMING AND THROWING UP. Bizly props to you because it was so subtle that i almost missed it but i could FEEL it wowowowowow sooosososos good i could go on for ages-

anyway thanks to anyone who read all that - i don’t usually post stuff like this but i felt it needed to be done. double anyway have a good day to you as i go cry and hyperventilate in the corner :)) luv uuu muah kisses

[nordidia]

How long do you typically spend on a drawing? Of the ones you've posted, which took the longest? Which was the quickest?

hmm well i usually make comics so its just a bunch of multiple drawingsss... depending on the lenght a comic can take me from 1 hour to 6-8 hours

most joke-doodles never take more than 15-20 minutes

my longest (finished) comic took me two days lol (i started late at night and then finished it the next night)

as for the quickest...uh. this one. i drew it as fast as i could, both to get it out asap and also bc i drew it before going to therapy and i didnt want to come home and have to continue working on it after the comfort of therapy

of the like actual pieces that arent comics? maybe this one was the longest? or this one... i struggle with shading so im guessing these took the longest bc i had to sit there and ponder for hours how to even do anything ASHGHSDG

idk if im fast or slow but i take a LOT of breaks and almost because my art style is simple and i dont rly sketch beforehand other than some guidelines for height/anatomy i spent alot of time getting the first line perfect so its usually pretty hard to tell how long i spend on art

[fatuismooches]

smooches you have no idea how much i want to be Pantalone's little househusband i promise im normal you dont get it! your post about a reader who has physical touch as their love language boosted this by like 9999999% i keep rereading the pantalone bit and giggling (also the zandik part broke my heart how could u... </3 /lh /pos)

i wanna cook him dinner when he gets home and offer him a kiss when he returns :(( I want to be surprised when he sees something that reminds him of of me and so he got it !!! I want to massage his shoulders and give him a kiss on the cheek as i do so :(((( I wanna wash his hair with no matter how much product as he uses :(((( I want to use a hair dyer and gently style his hair for him however he wants! I want to cuddle with him as he rambles about his day! I wanna help him get ready in the morning and help him with anything he needs !! i want to make him a cute little breakfast before he goes off to work !! I'd be so sad when he leaves :((( but then i realized he forgot his lunch, so before his break i waltz into his office and bring him his lunch with a kiss on the cheek! I crave domesticity with this man i am feral i am insane I'm running around in circles - 🎈 no one understands my yearning

TEEHEE I'M GLAD YOU LIKED THAT POST!! ❤️ (ALSO I DIDNT MEAN TO BREAK YOUR HEART NOOO IM SENDING ALL MY HUGS 🎈 ANON!!) And omg,,, you're so right ;(( THAT'S SOOOO CUTEE AHHH!! Indulging in all of the sweet little domestic things with Pantalone >>>

Ughh,,,,, him coming home after a super long day and all he wants to do is relax with you in bed, but as usual he comes home to a delicious smell wafting throughout the house and he already knows you're making his favorite ;)) And although he was tempted to skip dinner just to cuddle with you he can't say no to your cooking made with love!! And he certainly can't say no to hoisting you up on the counter and giving you a tonnnn of kisses while the meal finishes cooking! And the gifts? How could you not be ecstatic at his gifts? It's not just the large $ he drops on you as if it's nothing that makes you blush, but how he explains why he got it for you <33 We love a king who thinks of you always !!

Ohhhh he absolutely adores when you take care of him <3 you're such a good darling, going so far as to take care of your husband like this, even though you have your own responsibilities and troubles :( Pantalone loves how intimate and soft you are with him... your hands may not be as skilled as a professional but your rubs really make the stress roll away better than anyone... he's very fussy with his hair but you know all the tricks after being with him for so long :) You'll make sure he doesn't feel an ounce of pain or discomfort and ensure that it's as fluffy as usual! Don't let him fall asleep in the tub though... it's nearly impossible to get him out then. Though he'll totally pamper you the same way, better than royalty! Equal exchange and all! (Also because you're his beloved of course, even if you didn't he would still love you like that)

He loves rambling to you, because you're probably the only person that at least partially understands his rambles but also 100% willing to listen 🥺 Pantalone gets up quite early so he'll try not to wake you... but if you get up anyway to help him his heart would be blown into itty bitty pieces 🥰 He insists on you getting your 8+ hours but he can't deny he loves when his beloved gives him a goodbye kiss and sees him off for the day 🥰 Pantalone gives you a kiss back and reassures you he'll be back before you know it...

You could just send an agent to deliver his forgotten lunch but why would you ever lose out on the chance to see your husband?! Do the regular Fatuis say anything when you walk in with a very cute, delicious, and organized lunchbox for the Harbinger? Nope. Do they know not to disturb the Regrator when you're alone with him in his office? Yes. SO FREAKING CUTE 🎈 ANON AHHHQDWBDJWDND

[rai-knightshade]

I posted 19,561 times in 2022

10 posts created (0%)

19,551 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wanderingnightingale

@parttimetrickster

@nodesiretogrowup

@spacesapphist

@thepondstogether

I tagged 2,620 of my posts in 2022

#zelink - 375 posts

#shirbert - 317 posts

#self reblog - 61 posts

#malec - 42 posts

#usamamo - 39 posts

#goncharov - 30 posts

#🥺🥺🥺🥺 - 21 posts

#unreality - 18 posts

#yes - 17 posts

#skyward sword - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#(i know he apologized in his acceptance speech but iirc the broadcast specifically mentioned he didnt apologize to chris rock specifically)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I see you liking every single thing on my YJK blog and now I have to stan

Have a baby Jaina with her aunt Mara

THANK YOU 😂😂😂 i was reminded of my childhood love of the Young Jedi Knights via a crossover with a completely different fandom And i may have fell down the rabbit hole last night 😅 thank you for keeping this fandom alive i was almost certain i was the only person left who remembered/cared about the EU/Legends kids, especially the ones who weren't Solos and Skywalkers 😓 they are PRECIOUS and i LOVE THEM

1 note - Posted May 20, 2022

#4

crash

1 note - Posted April 1, 2022

#3

Hey! 👀+💕 for the asks!

Current ask game!

👀 Do you have any words/phrases you use habitually? 

I really like word "hence", I heard it once in like third grade and I basically made it a core part of my personality from then on. Not sure how often I use it in fic tho.... Other than that, I think I use a lot of -ly words as descriptors; wryly, ruefully, brightly, etc. A bit basic I'll admit but they get the point across and I don't have to dig out a thesaurus to understand what a character is expressing.

💕 What is the WIP that you are most excited about?

Well as mentioned in the tags of my og reblog, I've only got one WIP that I'm actually working on right now! The working title is "rest your head close to my heart, never to part (baby o'mine)", which will probably stay the title cause I always use song lyrics 😂 I'm usually inspired by music to write so it's only natural, I think. It's a fic for Anne of Green Gables, specifically the Sullivan tv movie continuity remixed into the original book continuity. Set 8 years after the third movie and with zero regard for any supposed "fourth" movies you may have heard of, it centers on the eldest Blythe child, Dominic, and how he comes to a sudden realization about himself in relation to the rest of his family, and how his question of "where did I come from?" Is answered.

Or, "so you forgot to mention to your firstborn that he's adopted and now he's asking Questions™ because he's realized he's the blonde sheep of your black-, brown- and red-haired family, what do you do?" But in fic form 😂😂😂.

I'm excited to see it finished cause I've been working on it for weeks, and because it's the first fic I've written in... A year, I think? So to get it written out will be an amazing achievement for me! I'm not sure how it'll be received cause it's a) the most self-indulgent fluffy-ass piece I've ever written--even more so than my Bradyverse, which I didn't think was possible--and is explicitly canon to the Anne movie that literally only me and like 5 other people like 😅😅 but who cares it's family fluff time!

Thank you for the ask Zelmo!!

1 note - Posted February 16, 2022

#2

⏰ What time of day do you prefer to write? 📌 If all your fics/WIPs fell off a ship and were drowning (go with it), and you could only save one, which would it be?

Time of day: whenever I've got a free moment tbh 😂😂 which currently tends to be the evenings as I work the morning shift 5 days a week. I've written or edited during my lunch times before tho so it's far from a hard and fast rule. When the inspiration strikes, it strikes!

Pick one WIP to save: well considering I only have one WIP that I'm currently working on (sorry professors!macdalton au, hopefully I'll get back to you one day), I'd say it's gonna have to be that one, titled "rest your head close to my heart, never to part (baby o'mine)". Even if it wasn't my only wip tho it'd probly be the one I save cause it's also one of the longest-taking wip I've ever had (the Brady verse doesn't count that was less one full wip and more a bunch of little snippets) and the fact that I'm still not done even tho it's been weeks is like. Torture. So I *will* finish this goddamn fic if it kills me. Wouldn't be the first death in the series at least (tho to be clear, nobody dies in this fic. It... Just happens to be about the mc finding out he's an adopted orphan, so. Clearly somebody had to die along the way. Multiple somebodies, even.)

Thanks for the ask!

1 note - Posted February 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

He didn't even punch him, he slapped him.

So I've seen now! (I didn't watch the Oscars this was entirely secondhand.) Honestly like. It smells like bullshit to me man idk talk to me when somebody like, fully assaults someone on stage in a full on brawl or some shit THEN maybe we can talk about losing Oscars. Not a (honestly very easily justified) slap.

3 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[littlelambdrgnfly]

Ok since you reblogged that one post I hope you know I reread The Sum of Them for the 3rd time, maybe like a month ago, up until the last chapter and i never finished it cause i didnt want to experience it ending again (if that makes sense), i wish it never ended. I wish they could play baby games forever but its so important it does end because the ending is soo beautiful but so devastating, and it's beautiful because its so devastating, and my heart cant take experiencing that again :'-(

i already sent a message on here saying that your fic was the first fic to make me cry, possibly the first piece of LITERATURE in general to make me cry (i could be wrong but i cant remember any piece before that), and it made me cry 2 times when reading it for the first time. It is truly my favorite piece of McLennon fanfiction, but the only reason i dont fully consider it mine is that if someone were to ask me, it'd be too taboo/freaky to say but its truly one of the most heartfelt and complex ways ive ever seen anyone portray John and Paul while also feeling completely accurate and realistic. My god. And i love so many of your other fics too but The Sum of Them really means so much to me and I cant even say that enough. i wish you could just live as me and be inside my mind to fully grasp how much of an affect it had on me, I dont think i will ever be able to explain it sadly </3. But just know out of every McLennon fic ive ever read (and ive read many), THAT one is my very favorite out of like 100+. The way you characterize them is just so completely different from any other fic ive read and its so intimate and raw and holy shit i dont even have the words. Sorry i know im rambling at this point but I just think about it a lot! Also your fics are the only fics i enjoy anymore, (recent) beatles fics have gone down the drain in my opinion and yours are the only ones i can be satisfied with because, as far as im concerned, anything you write is automatically in-character for them after reading The Sum of Them lol x) thank you so SO much for writing cause it's truly exposed so many of my own desires and hidden , sensitive parts of myself that couldn't be excavated any other way without your work 💖

Dude... this is legitimately one of the best comments I've ever gotten. I wish I could memorize all of this and replay it for myself whenever I'm feeling blue. Thank you so so much, it means the world to me! I think all writers insert their own thoughts and emotions into their work, and I definitely do that in all of mine, but especially The Sum of Them. This fic is basically my wishlist of things I would do with a partner, as well as coming to better terms with my own kinks, so I'm glad it's been able to resonate with people. I'm also glad that I managed to keep John and Paul in character, even if John is crying every other paragraph lmao! I totally get what you're saying about wishing I could experience what you did, I wish I could too. Sometimes I reread my fics with the mindset of someone reading it for the first time, but it's just not the same. I'd give my left tit for more writers on my level or higher who wrote bottom!John or even ABDL fics, I swear. I don't read a lot of fics these days, but I'm usually disappointed whenever I check the Beatles tab. I'm also really really bad at remembering titles and author names, so I never remember what fics that I like! Thank God for bookmarks. I definitely understand not wanting to tell people that this is your favorite fic though, lol! I've been writing Beatles fics for a long time, but I created a new account on AO3 when I started writing these fics. I'm comfortable talking about this stuff, but only with the help of an alternate profile. I'm really really happy to help people explore this side of themselves though-- too often fics like mine are just really gross over-the-top and completely unrealistic portrayals in my opinion, and I guess I wanted to bring something sweeter and more realistic to the table. <3

[pacifymebby]

if you’re feeling sinister / chapter two

We lingered on the edge of the football field until well after 6th period had finished and there was no need to hide out behind the goal posts to smoke our weed because everyone else had already left and gone home for the evening.

"Come on its gettin cold... whos comin round mine? Got the new resident evil... It'll be a scream," grinned Van pulling a face, ever the clown as he tried to chastise Mia into joining us for once.

"Give over you know I hate those games," she said with a small smile, shying away from Van and Larry as they crowded her, one on either side, jostling her with their elbows like they were playing piggy in the middle and she was the ball.

"Leave her alone dickheads," giggled Suki tripping Larry up so that he went tripping and stumbling into a bin.

There was a chorus of cheers from the others then, even Bob who had been quiet all afternoon was laughing and grinning along.

"I don't wanna watch yous playing your shitty video games and screamin like little babies and thats final..." Mia crossed her arms over her chest, stopping at the foot of her driveway. Her and her older brother Benji lived closest to the school in one of the semi's on the main road. It was one of the nicer houses in our shitty coastal town and though we never usually stopped over anywhere other than Van's, what I'd seen of Benji and Mias place was lovely, homely in a way I'd only known for a slither of time whilst I was living with my gran.

"Fine fine, be a loser..." sneered Larry, "chicken shit..."

"Wanker," grinned Mia her smile popping as she made a leud hand gesture at him before sticking him the finger.

"Oi Mia, tell your brother he'd better have shifted that cold by the weekend we've got a gig to prepare for!"

"Whatever Van!" she shouted back not bothering to turn over her shoulder to look at us as she unlocked the front door and disappeared inside.

"Calm down lid you know he's not even sick he's just skyving.." smirked Bob.

"Aye he's sick alright," sniggered Larry, "love sick.." he giggled, Van chorusing him as they started sniggering together, only quieting down when Suki shoved them both from behind.

"Your best pals had his heart broke an you're takin the piss... Pair of tossers," she scowled, "not surprised he's ditchin your stupid practices like..."

"Ooo touched a nerve?" giggled Van, never knowing when to quit. They were both a pair together him and Larry, when it came to taking things too far.

"Shut up," she sneered back snatching at Bondys sleeve to pull him back into step with her so that she'd have at least one of the lads onside.

"Ignore em love, if they wanna behave like children just you let em carry on..." he yawned vaguely shooing them away as he draped his arm around Sukis shoulders and I felt myself shiver feeling suddenly colder.

"I'll come watch you play your shitty video games Van," I sighed knocking into him, hoping he would do as Bondy had done to Suki, but he didn't.  

"You live with me lass, you don't have a choice..."

"I do too!" I cried getting idignant when he contradicted me and asked where I was going to go if I didnt end up back at his. "I could go to Suki's for one, or Larry's or Mia's or Bobs or Johnnys!"

"Ah well Titch you see thats the problem see cause I for one am desperately excited to watch Van get himself ripped to pieces by zombies y'see..." cut in Johnny with a lazy smile.

"Yeah," hummed Suki, "me too..." she turned over her shoulder to smile at me as her fingers danced over the crusifix she wore around her neck.

Instinctively I did the same, my fingers counting the beads on my rosary, the cross hanging weighted somewhere beneath my school shirt out of sight.

I wondered what my new therapist would have thought of that. The hippies daughter turned devotee of christ. I wondered what conclusions she would have drawn from that. She'd have had a field day if she'd had me and Suki in the room together... That was how we'd met. Why she'd ended up straying from her grandparents country house into the throngs of our misfit group of friends.

"Me three," added Larry so that Bob was my only remaining option, and the poor lad could only shrug and apologise and tell us he had to duck out too because he had a drum lesson and several exams coming up soon.

So I was forced to relent, let out a dramatic sigh and fall back into step beside my best friend. Van knocked my elbow with his as we walked in time, his cheeky grin relentless.

"Don't lie theres no way you'd rather spend your night with anyone else," he said scowling when I shrugged him off.

"Sure."

But it was true, really, and we both knew that.

I'd known Van since I was a youngen, our parents had been friends because his parents had been pretty bohemian back in their prime too. The only difference was, where my mother had joined a convent in the valley woodlands a couple miles from town, Van's parents had brought a camper and explored Australia and Europe.

When my parents had died his mam had offered to take me in but my gran had been there, maternal and possesive and so I hadn't fallen into Mary's care until last year. When my gran had died there'd been no other option, Van's family already felt like my family. Their b&b was the only place I wanted to go.

The rest of our group had formed around Van and the band. Benji, Bob, Larry and Johnny had been playing shitty indie rock in Benjis garage since they were 12 years old. Johnny being older had been a useful friend to make because he was the first to get a fake ID, the only reliable source of cigs and drinks, and also the only way Van managed to convince the music department at school to trust him in their cramped little recording studio. Larry and Van had known eachother since they were toddlers. Benji and Bob had grown up one street away from eachother. Benji, Van and Bondy had all played on the same footie team.

Their lives had always been overlapping, they'd always been friends.

Mia was Benjis little sister and, having been forced to babysit her one too many Thursday evenings when he was supposed to be rehearsing with the lads, had started dragging her with him. A happy accidental friendship forming between us, a solidarity because we both knew what it was like to have to put up with the older lads teasing and taking the piss out of us.

And then Suki. Suki had been born on the convent too but after a few years her mum had decided that the bohemian lifestyle wasn't for her and had retreated, baby Suki in tow, to her parents big house on the hill. A sprawling country estate tucked away on the edge of the forest. It was gorgeous but we were never invited for tea. In fact Suki liked to keep herself as far away from that house as she could most of the time. She never really detailed her reasons, but we never really asked.

Suki was friends with us because she was friends with me, and we were friends because we both went to confession every Wednesday after mass.

"Am callin first dibs!" shouted Larry running up the drive to Vans house and opening the unlocked door before anyone could stop him or protest. Of course that didn't stop Van from legging it after him.

I just watched with a smirk, turned to Bondy and Suki and felt that cold shiver again when I saw that she remained tucked under his arm as if she was always supposed to belong there.

"Children," tutted Johnny as he kicked his shoes off in the hall wandering into the kitchen to say hello to Vans mum and get a brew on.

I kicked my converse off by the door and hovered for a second at the foot of the stairs waiting to see where Suki would go. Whether she'd follow Johnny or turn to me.

She brushed her long brown hair from her face and adjusted her alice band, her thick brows furrowed like she was thinking.

"You don't really wanna watch them play shit video games all night do you titch?" she asked chewing her cheek, her brown eyes soft with concern though I wasn't quite sure who for.

"Not really," I admitted knowing there was no way she wanted to sit around watching Van and Larry squabble over the controller for an hour either, "not if they're gonna hog it anyway..." I said with a cheeky smile, calling out a little louder so that Van would hear us.

"You two are so ungrateful! You've got the opportunity to watch the master at work here!" he shouted back from the living room where I could hear the playstation coming to life.

I sighed.

"Zombies still a no go?" I asked knowing she would nod and wince and then laugh at herself for being so childish. It was funny that out of all of us she was the one who was "easily scared" given Johnny and I's track record on horror.

But I'd been desensitised over the years and I found a little humour and comfort in a dodgy slasher film or a video game full of daft jump scares. And if anyone ever asked Johnny why he liked horror movies he just shrugged his shoulders, made some throwaway joke about studying up.

Once he'd informed someone that having a murdered mum ment the odds were stacked in his favour, can't get yourself butchered if the stats say you're more likely to be the one doing the butchering.

The kid in question had been speechless but Johnny had just smirked, played it off cool as you like. That was like his hidden talent, this ability only he seemed to have mastered. Nothing ever seemed to stick with him, nothing ever seemed to shake him, he was always so cool and collected, still water you couldn't ripple.

"Wanna bully them into watching the exorcist or somet instead?" I asked Suki, wandering into the kitchen to grab a diet coke from the fridge.

At that she grinned, her nod enthusiastic. A girl of few words but pleased nonetheless.

"You never get bored of that one?" asked Johnny as he stirred sugars into tea.

"Nope," Suki popped the p, her eyes glistening, "I'll never get sick of Jason Miller," she sighed dramatically, completely oblivious to the sudden sulk which lingered on Johnnys lips when he rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair.

"Bit old for you ain't he lass," he said before calling out to the lads that their teas were ready, winking at us when Larry and Van came running in, giving us the opportunity to sneak in and switch over to our film before they could protest.

And thats how we spent our night, the five of us squished together on the sofa, watching a film we'd all seen too many times before. Larry then Van with my in his lap, my legs overlapping Suki's where she sat in Johnnys lap, her head resting against his chest where I wished my head could be instead.

That was how we spent most evenings  after school when we weren't all gathered in Benji's garage instead. Watching shit horror movies or playing whichever video game we'd collectively chosen to obsess over that week. Sometimes me and Suki would ditch in favour of finishing our school work, more often than not Mia was only ever half present, her nose in a book.

When the weather was good we'd hang around the football pitch or down by the beach, setting fires pissing around with matches under the pier, or making goal posts with jumpers and playing football, or something which loosely resembled football until the sun had set too far for us to see the ball.

"Reet," yawned Johnny as the clock hit  half nine and the credits of Psycho started to roll, "am aff," he said in a terrible scottish accent.

"Walk me back?" asked Suki rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she slipped down from the back of the sofa where she'd been lying with her head next to Johnnys.

They'd been mumbling and joking quietly with one another all night and when she'd positioned herself like that I'd known it was only to get closer to him, to be able to talk softly in his ear and let her hand play with his hair subtly. Not subtle enough.

"Aye lass course," he said their eyes locking for a moment, my chest aching because I knew the conversation they were having silently and so did everyone else.

And the moment he'd closed the door on them Larry voiced the thing we were all thinking.

"She's staying at his ain't she..."

"Fuckin probably aye mate..." grinned Van laughing for a moment until he recognised the turmoil in my eyes, noticed I wasn't laughing like they were. Then he turned to Larry with a frown, lowered his voice, "have a bit of tact though eh mate?"

I smirked sadly shaking my head at him.

"Give over Van its not like that..." I said defending myself weakly. Still, it was true, I was telling them the truth. I wasn't jealous. I didn't want to be Suki. I just didn't want to lose Johnny. I didn't want anything to change between us because it had always been me and him who knew eachother in a way no one else could ever know us. And if him and Suki got any closer than they already were then I would lose him, and we'd never stay up late talking and not talking about the things no one else could understand, ever again.

"Yeah really? What is it like then Titch cause you've look rate mardy all night an we were watchin your favourite film!"

"Its nowt Van drop it already..." I said, my fingers rubbing over the beads of my rosary reminding me not to lie to my best friend.

"You're lying am not daft titch..."

"Am not!"

"Reet well I was gonna crash here like but am not listenin to yous bickerin like grandmas all night so am afffff..." said Larry with a grin immitating Johnny's earlier attempt.

"Ah Larry man nah you can't go yet we were gonna play Resident Evil!"

"I'll be round tomorra, if am not back by ten me mam will go spare," he said holding his hand up to wave, leaving the house in a stoned and sleep deprived haze. Similar to the one Vam turned to me in as the front door closed again, his dopey smile endearing as he came a little closer.

"Y'know you're prettier than..."

"Van!" I hissed cutting him off before he could say something offensive and completely uncalled for, "shut it would ye I already said it ain't that!"

"Am jus sayin lass, if the lad can't see that he's..."

"Van!" I snapped hitting him with the oversized sleeve of my sweater chasing him back into the living room where I shoved him over onto the sofa victorious.

"Alright alright I was just tryna be nice lass no need to go all skitz on me!" he grinned sniggering quietly, the two of us suddenly concious of the time and not wanting to wake his mam and dad.

I sighed flopping down on the sofa beside him, my eyes glancing to the clock. It was just past ten and the night was still young for a girl who didn't do much sleeping.

Luckily for me Van had always been a bit of an insomniac too and so when I turned to him and nodded to the tv he knew exactly what I wanted to do.

"Go get a brew on, reckon we can complete it by mornin like, Larry'll be pissed he went home.." he flashed me a smile switching the channel on the telly so that the playstation started up and his new game started to load.

And I was more than happy to spend the night fighting zombies with Van instead of suffering an attempt at sleep. Because when I was left alone with myself my thoughts had a tendency to drift towards the macabre and spiral and tonight I knew they'd spiral because since I'd left my therapists office earlier that afternoon I'd only been able to focus on one thing.

🍎🔪

"I believe you..." she said again when I scrunched my face into a frown and eyed her suspiciously.

"Right okay... Sure you do..." I said, "if this is a new way of trying to gain my trust it's pretty messed up Elena..." I said eying her name tag feeling a twist of bitterness in my stomach. It was the defense mechanism which flexed every time someone dangled hope in front of me.

"I'm not messing with you or lying to you to gain your trust Pepper, I do believe you and I'll tell you exactly why... If you want to hear me out that is... You don't have to hear me out..."

"No go on, what else will we talk about for the next 40 minutes..."

"Alright well, in your folder your medical history states that you have a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder along with Dissociative Personality Disorder. Your doctors, and the police, believe that as a young girl you were so overwhelmed by the events of your mothers death that rather than accept reality you fabricated a new one in which your father acted to save your life, not to end your mothers..." she paused for a moment and I leant back in my seat studying her carefully. I wasn't sure how I felt about her now, how i felt about the way she was talking about the events as something seperate not only from her but from me.

"Now dissociative disorders are not uncommon after a serious traumatic event and they are often linked to PTSD however," she carried on and now her pencil tip found her lips and for a moment she sucked on it like an addict trying to quit smoking, "however in these cases dissociation tends to recur throughout a suffers life, they tend to, well for want of better phrasing, lose themselves to their false reality choosing to live in it permanently... From what I can tell of you however youve never talked of any similar experiences... Your story has always remained the same and well, all the nightmares, all your flashbacks, as you have described them to previous therapists at least, relate that same story... It never changes and..."

"Generally when a persons story never changes its true..." I said finishing for her, my smirk short and quick as I eyed her with dead eyes, trying my best to hide my confusion. Trying not to show her how badly I wanted to believe in her. How badly I wanted to believe that for once someone believed me.

"It does."

[twizzta]

i forgot if i already send in numbers if not.... 5 7 8 9!

5: estimate of how much art post online vs keep 2 self

i do not like posting stuff that i know i want to work on more cuz i tend to oddly lose motivation to do it if i do.. but i think it kind of slides on a scale depending how far online reaches. like i post 9999 drawings on discord -> post most if not all of my oc shit on toyhouse including doodles when i rember -> purely finished or like doodle compliation on tumblr. theres def stuff i keep 2 self but its usually just like incomprehensible scribbles or doodle shit i dont think looks that good

7: a medium of art i dont work in but appreciate

big graffiti pieces fr its so gorgeous + inspires me greatly they are always so crazy visually interesting and spraypaint texture is coolest shit ever. i like seeing a graffiti or tag and knowing @ some point in time someone made or wrote that its like beautiful thing i love vandalism

8: whats an old project idea i lost interest in

Xtremely grood questiong 4 me so... i didnt lose interest as so much i felt i couldnt even comprehend the entire mass of scale of how it worked yet because it would overwhelm me cosmically but i had a oc world under the works under the codename Tun which was a worlds very metaphysics was that of insect exoskeletons/carapaces mixed with many cnidarian and fungal features which i intended for the designs to be very monsterous and visceral and with little to no discernable human emotion. the color palette of it generally was with shitty looking dark yellows and browns and really light algae teals and was overall some formulation of the in between of death and life as fully encapsulated by microbes and polyps and all things of that nature + had some machines in it all made out of bug parts or natural things etc. it all got put on hold mentally because i kept making the designs too human shaped for my taste and got mad at that so i put it away and then created 2359 like 19 days later

9: what are your file name conventions already answered this 1 👍

[isaspsp]

💋💫Crimson Lips 💫💋

A Lady never leaves a mark.

Unless she wants to ~

Edit: I found the original comment I had along with this piece!!! So under the cut it goes. Enjoy the reding, if you dare.

This piece is fanart for Monochromatic's "Crimson Lips"

I have a lot to say about this piece. Firstly, I have a hard time picking favourites most of the time. I don't have a favourite food. I don't have a favourite color. I don't have a favourite music genre. I don't have a football team. I do have a favourite number! I don't have a favourite author. But I believe that last part has been surely rectified by now. I guess I can say that I've dedicated so luch time to doing fanart for this one author, that they can, indeed, be considered my favourite author. Then we are taken to this piece. One more fanart. Of an ABSURDLY amazing story. It might be the bias that it is from my favourite author, and someone I have the honor to call friend even. (Mono, btw is the author of the books for my two AMVs, so I'm quite the fan) But really, it's an amazingly written story I urge you to read. Reminder that the fic is rated teen, but it deals with sensitive topics.

Now onto the piece: This piece took an ABSURD amount of time. Like. I think it officially topples any of my previous records. But I don't know exacly how long it took. If it were up to me (and it is), I'd say it took like, maybe 6 hours? (It didn't, it was a lot more) I really wonder what sort of trance this piece had over me. I finished it in about 5 days-ish? I made the rough thumbnail on day one; 40% of the frame on day two; finished the frame, sketched the characters and blocked in all of them in day three; Rendered 75% of the characters day four; Finished rendering and other details on the morning of day 5. Today! That might seem reasonable enough. But here's the thing. I worked day 3 and 4 all day solely on this piece. From 8am to 11pm. ALL DAY. AND I DIDNT NOTICE I SPENT ALL DAY WORKING ON THIS ONE PIECE. I didn't even open another drawing's file. If you're familiar with csp's time-lapse feature, know that a two character portrait usually amounts to a 2 minute video. A piece that I'd usually spend 4 hours on, amounts to 2 minutes. This piece has a ten minute time-lapse. So I'd wager that I spent… at least 20 hours on this piece. Which feels so wrong. It's a beautiful piece sure. I love it immensely. But it feels wrong. It doesn't feel like it would need that much time to be completed? It doesn't have a conplex background, it doesn't have challenging Lighting, the characters don't interact directly, there isn't so.e frame perspective going on. So I don't know what made this piece take this long.

Let's gather what could've made this such a long piece.

I didn't rush A SINGLE PART OF THIS PIECE. Which contributes to why It took so long. I ALWAYS rush some part of a piece. Not necessarily in big ways, but maybe a rushed element. In this piece, the only thing I settled for was the border/frame/background. And even then, I say "settled" for because I did put a lot of care in it, but it was okay with it not being perfect.

I'm not THAT used to drawing and consequently painting humans. Or humanoid creatures. The reason why I draw more antro than human is because I'm SO terribly horrible with faces. Now, you don't see all the thrown away sketches from years past. I think a lot of that stemed from me not knowing how I wanted to go about stylizing them. When I started drawing pony, I had a very small pool of inspirations, and I did a shit ton of tracing (much before I ever started posting on the internet), so I didn't have much - or any at all -pressure to find a style. Now it's different. I'm very proud of my art. I've convinced myself that I don't have time for self doubt. This is the one and only hobby I'll not ever allow myself to drop. I've dropped knitting, soap carving, reading, swimming (which I couldn't to much in the first place), but art has been the one consistent hobby I've had. My self doubt will have the rip my heart away before it gets rid of my love for my own art. But then humans. I love my art, but then again, I can dislike my work still. And because my horizons are so much broader than they were when I started, I have so many options… too many options. Humans are difficult to draw because they are so fundamentaly different from all the animals I've drawn. They are us. Humans, there is so much more nuance that you have to capture to make them feel real. It's a hard balance to achieve. There are so so so many ways to stylized humans, from more goofy, to more simple and concise, to graphic to hyper realistic (aka barely any stylization). And again, I' bad at picking favourites. So then come furries, anthros. The nice middle ground of humanoid, but still familiar with the animal bits. And with anthro, you can choose how humanoid they'll be, so they were a good way to ease myself into drawing humans! And it worked. But I fear it might've worked too fast. Or at least too pointedly. Too concentrated in this one piece.

It feels like someone else drew this piece.

I think the best way to analyse your art looking for ways to improve it is by imagining you didn't draw it. It's easier to pick out the weaknesses of something you don't have emotional connection with. After I'm done with analyzing, I can switch back to myself and love a piece for what it is. Again, I need to be proud of my art.

But this piece is almost foreign in quality.

It's supposed to be heavily inspired by the art nouveau movement. I think that is pretty clear, so naturally, it's a far reach from my usual style. I don't thing that the realism is the characters' proportions is a staple of that style, more so the rendering, shape language and background style are what clue you into that style. So I could've done any stylization for the characters and it's work. At least it would've been good enough for me. But then again. Humans are a pain to draw. And making them anywhere other than human would destroy the intent of the original text, so that wanst an option. So I started drawing. I honetsly don't remember most of my sketching process nor decisions. Only by looking at the time-lapse that I see what decisions I took. Again. Foreign. I think the only piece of human art I have similar in style tot his one is those humans portraits I drew of my OCs, Beau and Bishop. But even then, this feels… different. Not to count that the rendering technique is something I, again, have never done before! This was mostly a combination of hard pencils smoothened out my blender brushes. I usually just bland with the painting brushes themselves, so that was a new technique for me. Again foreign.

In conclusion. I don't know if it's a good thing that this piece feels that foreign. But I know I drew this and that I'm proud and completely in love with it, and I hope you all are too 💖

[ambiguousgrass]

ambiguousgrass pinned post wooo yippeee yay

a few things

-My name is grass ambiguousgrass

-pronouns- /it/beep/void/boo/grass/⭐️/🦝/🌱he/she/they

-if I have liked your art and not reblogged, it's in my queue! you'll see it there in a few days!

-I DO ART HERES THE link to art taglist

-i am always following and unfollowing people Im SORRY!! its not personal i just need my dashboard to be Better

more information under the cut if ur interested :3

Art

•this is an art blog! its few and far between but its there!!

•art requests are open!

•all of my art is tagged as grass does art linked here for your convenience ^_^

•If you'd like to be notified when I post a finished piece, interact in any way with the linked post here (rbs appreciated <3)

•you are welcome to use my art in any non-commercial way, as long as proper credit is given. (for example personal icons, print outs, banners, etc. are cool. selling it as stickers or claiming it as your own is not ok.)

•my main mediums are pen&ink, graphite pencil, colored pencils, watercolors, acrylic, clay, cardboard, and digitally i use procreate.

blog contents/fandoms

used to be a dsmp fan but I'm trying to distance myself from that. on account of the everything.

Now its just stuff?? i dont know.

maybe a little TMA here and there? I love the podcast but i have to take breaks from listening to it very often due to the disorders

Every day i get closer and closer to posting about doctor who so enjoy this who free era while it lasts. i might give up and make a side blog one day but who knows. haha. who

edit: I have very much posted about dr who. and also discovered torchwood now. to all the normal people following me my condolences. it is going to get worse

boun der ries

be nice to me

I block and unfollow liberally on account of I meticulously curate my dashboard forfun

- spam likes/rbs/etc are so very welcome! i may seem to be dead for a little while after due to my possum like swag but its ok

-mutuals can ask for my discord if you want but i don't talk much on there.

-feelfree to tag me on stuff. reblog chains. a funny video. art that id like. whatever!! I may not respond but thats just because that stuff gets buried in my notifs and i forgor about them

tagging system

‼️‼️being redone‼️‼️

i realized that tagging things the way i didnt was not working for me so everythings untagged for the time being. I'll redo my tagging system but I'm not going back to fix old posts so this key will stay here along with the updated version. its going to be a while though

grass yells into the void - original posts

grass reblogs - reblogs

the void yells back - asks

grass does art - my own art

​grass queues things - queue

undescribed- posts i create or reblog without image description

fav -posts i like a lot

animals - creatures i like

food - food

c!clingyduo the world - cclingyposting

dr who- dr who

mlp- mlp

tma- tma

(any fandom i post about has a pretty straightforward tag for it in theory)

media types are tagged. (for example #video or #gif.) this is not super consistent, my apologies.

further tagging

as stated above, i tag posts that don't have ID as "undescribed."

the majority of my original posts have image descriptions in their alt texts, which I do myself.

we do not use a screenreader, so I am always willing to hear about ways I can improve the way i post things to make things more accessible.

I occasionally add image descriptions to things i reblog, but I don't do so often.

I have a pretty loose system for tagging potentially upsetting content, but if you ask me to tag a specific thing in a specific way I will do my best to uphold that.

original posts are tagged with as many different trigger tags as I can just to cover all the bases, but rbs are usually just tagged as the thing im warning for [for example- #spiders]

I may reblog posts reguarding political issues, and these will also be tagged as the thing im talking about for filtering purposes.

active sideblogs

@ambiguousseagrass criaturas del mar 🌊 🐠

@ambiguousgrassstims - stimboards nd the like

may be more at somepoitn. shrugs.

thats it bye bye

[freddiesaysalright]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 5

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish, @queen-paladin, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf, @namelesslosers, @headl0ng, @captvianswaan, @folietracksix​, @baltimoresweethearts​, @killer-queen-87​, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil​, @misslolasworld​, @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen​

A/N: It’s the grand finale! Thank you again for all the lovely responses to this fic! I can’t believe I’m almost done with the Disney AUs already! also i barely proofread this because i was so excited to post it so if you see a typo no you didnt

Warning(s): brief descriptions of abuse

Moodboard

Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Chapter 5 here we go!!!

Frank and his daughters came home about an hour after you did. You were already back in your servant clothes and waiting by the door. You took their cloaks and bags, and began hanging them on the rack in the main hall. 

“How was your night?” you asked politely. 

“It was a splendid evening, Y/N,” Frank answered. “More than you could ever hope for.”

“I’m sure it was,” you returned, holding back a smirk. If only he knew. 

“I’m relieved to see you have not stolen anything else from my wife’s closet,” he sneered.

You shook your head. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve been thoroughly educated.”

“Very good,” he said, seeming displeased that he couldn’t goad you. 

But nothing could spoil this night. It was perfect. 

“Is there anything you need before going to bed?” you asked. 

“I’m fine, but you’ll of course help the girls get changed,” he said. 

You nodded again. “Absolutely.”

He watched you suspiciously as you followed your step sisters up the stairs. You were calm. Too calm. And you were humming, which you didn’t normally do. Plus the tune was something he had heard somewhere - but no event would have had you in attendance. His frown deepened. Something was up.

***

Gwilym returned to the palace two hours later, empty handed and broken-hearted. Rami and Ben were waiting on the steps for him, but as he walked up, he only shook his head. They sighed, disappointed for their friend. Thankfully, the remaining guests had all gone home. 

“Sorry, mate,” Ben said. 

“There was no sign of her?” Rami asked. 

“No,” Gwilym said. “Even the carriage tracks just seemed to disappear. It was like she just vanished.”

“So, all we’ve got to go on is the shoe?” Ben wondered, holding it up. 

Gwilym had only entrusted his best friends with it, and they had kept it from his father. 

“It’s made of glass,” Gwilym said. “Which means it only fits her.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Rami asked. “Try the shoe on every woman in the kingdom?”

“Only the single women,” Gwilym said, as if it were obvious.

Rami and Ben shared a surprised look. 

“I hope you’re joking,” Ben said. 

“Far from it,” Gwilym replied. “I’m going to find that girl, and I’m going to marry her.”

Rami sighed. “Very well, then. But let’s start in the morning.”

“Thank you both,” Gwilym said, relieved. They had every reason to leave now. Both had duties at home, and had done what was socially expected. With the ball over, there was no obligation to stay. “Really.”

“Of course we’re gonna help you,” Ben said. “But I’m with Rami. Starting tomorrow.”

“You guys go on up, I’ll be right behind you,” Gwilym insisted. 

His friends shrugged, but did as he requested and went inside. Gwilym remained, holding that glass piece of you carefully in the crook of his arm. He looked out into the night sky, hoping somehow you could feel his desperation. 

“I am coming for you, my darling,” he said quietly. 

***

You yawned as the sun peered into your room through your curtains. You were feeling unusually light this morning. Like you were still floating just above the ballroom floor. With a contented sigh, you stretched and forced yourself out of bed. Frank and the girls would be needing their breakfast soon, but you knew you had a little extra time today. They’d certainly have a bit of a lie in after the late night. 

You threw your dress and apron on. You did a spin around your room, giggling as you imagined Gwilym there with you. Then you had to slow to a stop. It was a fantasy, nothing more. One glorious night. But now it was time to return to reality and your true life. Still, you could cling to the dream for one morning.

Humming to yourself, you put the pot on to boil and began prepping plates for breakfast. You set a pan atop the stove to start some sausages when you heard the jingle of a bell. You looked at the wall. It was coming from Eleanor’s room, so you guessed she was up. You asked Elsie to start the food and went back upstairs to get your step sister dressed. When you reached the landing, you saw Frank emerging from his room, already dressed. 

“Good morning,” you said kindly. 

“Y/N, what did you get up to last night?” he asked. 

“Why, nothing, sir,” you said. “I cleaned up, as you instructed, changed clothes, and got a head start on some other chores. When those were done, I occupied myself by reading.”

He seemed skeptical. “I see. I hope you weren’t reading anything too fanciful. You mustn’t fill your mind with...unrealistic dreams and fantasies.”

Your brow furrowed with confusion. What was he implying?

“No, sir,” you said. “I try to keep everything practical.”

“Good,” he said. “Now get to work.”

You nodded, a bit perplexed, but continued into Eleanor’s room.

***

In the morning, Gwilym was the first up. He hardly slept at all. He wrote a decree for his father to send out, that he and Ben and Rami would be making the rounds through town and the countryside to find the owner of the missing shoe. They would begin today, and search until the prince had found his lost love.

To his shock, the king agreed to this. He read over it at the breakfast table, nodding at each point. The ladies were to try on the shoe and if it fit, it must be the girl who Gwilym met at the ball.

“Very well,” he said. “You’ll begin today?”

“Yes,” Gwilym said. “I want to find her as soon as possible.”

“Alright, son,” the king replied. He looked at the prince and offered a sincere smile. “And best of luck.”

Gwilym beamed. “Thank you, Father!”

And so, they began their search within the palace, where the out of town noble guests were staying. Gwilym had his doubts about those girls because he met them before you even came through the door. But he knew everyone deserved a fair chance. When the shoe fit none of those women, they made their way into town, with a few guards along for protection. 

***

Frank received a letter from the palace early in the morning. He looked it over and you saw a flash of...something cross his face. You couldn’t place the emotion though. It seemed almost like a glimmer of hope. His eyes glanced over at you before quickly turning to his daughters. 

“Girls, get yourselves looking nice,” he said. “We’ll be having visitors from the palace this afternoon.”

“The palace?” you questioned, without meaning to, but you could hardly help yourself. 

“Yes, but that isn’t any of your business, Y/N,” he snapped. “Get my daughters ready and then proceed with your chores as usual. You are not to make your presence known while the visitors are here.”

You nodded apologetically. As you made your way back to the kitchen, you wondered if the visitors Frank referred to could be Gwilym and his father. Was he looking for you? Something in your heart told you he was, but you hardly even dared to hope. Such a thing was the stuff of dreams. And yet, the ball seemed like a dream too, but it was as real as the tea kettle you carried. You began devising a plan. 

As the day wore on, you completed your chores quickly. You wanted to prepare yourself as well. Your gut was telling you Gwilym was on his way to take you away from here. And you had all the proof you needed in that slipper that was hidden beneath your bed. So when you finished sweeping the entrance hall, you ran up to your room to get it. Only, when you opened your door, you came to an abrupt stop. Frank was sitting on your bed, holding the slipper by the heel. One wrong move of his fingers and it would fall, risking a break. 

“Well, well, well,” he said darkly. “I had a feeling you had made your way to the ball. You’ve been far too dreamy to have had as dull a night as you claim.”

Your heart rate quickened. 

“That’s mine,” you said, feeling childish as the words left your mouth. “It was given to me.”

Frank laughed humorlessly. “Oh, likely story. I suppose this is another one of my wife’s things you stole.”

“You cannot stop me from this,” you said, ignoring the accusation. “The prince loves me.”

“Against his better judgement, I believe that’s true,” he admitted.

You blinked, surprised at your step father’s nonchalance about this. Did that mean he would accept it? No. There had to be something else he was getting at. 

“As it is, though,” he said. “You’re spoken for.”

You frowned as your stomach dropped. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked. 

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket with his free hand. “And mine alone.”

A chill ran down your spine. Was he really saying what you thought he was saying?

“I’m not a slave, Frank,” you said. “I am free to do this.”

“I do not intend to make you my slave,” he said. “I intend to make you my wife.”

Your body went rigid as the blood ran out of your face. The very idea made your stomach churn. The thought of being his wife, sharing his bed, bearing his children...you nearly heaved right there in front of him.

“No,” you said firmly. “I won’t.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he said. 

“It’s sick!” you cried. “I’m your daughter!”

“Step daughter,” he said. “I will have this estate, Y/N. You will do for me what your mother could not. My son will be the true and rightful heir, and start a new line.”

“Are you not happy with the children you have?” you wondered, completely rocked to your core. “Why do you insist on a son?”

“Sons are the only useful offspring,” he scoffed. “Daughters are just mouths to feed until you can marry them off, and even then, what’s theirs will never belong to their family. It belongs to their husbands. Well, I am not going to lose everything because my previous wives were too weak to give me what I want.”

“I will not,” you refused again. “I’ll run away.”

“And leave behind your home?” he taunted. “The one your father built so lovingly with your mother?”

“It will no longer be a home to me if I am trapped in such a marriage,” you said. 

“I’m not giving you a choice, Y/N,” he sighed. “I’ll keep eyes on you everywhere, I’ll lock you in your room, whatever it takes. Or, you can submit to me now and become mistress of this house as you were born to be.”

“I’ll die before I marry you,” you spat. “I’ll die before I bear any child of yours. I’ll -”

“No need to go on,” he said. He was being alarmingly calm about this. “I know the rest. But you will marry me, Y/N. You will have my son, and you’ll do it all without complaint. Just as you have with everything I have ever given you.”

You blinked again. So everything he’d put you through was a test? A way to manipulate you into obeying his every command? He was...grooming you? Your stomach gave another lurch.

“But first,” he said. “We will need to squash your dreams of Prince Gwilym.”

“What do you -”

He cut off your question by hurling your slipper into the wall. It shattered with a crash, which drowned out your anguished cry. You sank to your knees, hopeless. 

“There now,” he said. “I’m only teaching you the harsh lesson of reality.” 

Tears fell freely down your cheeks. You heard loud knocking at the front door, but barely registered it. 

“That’ll be him,” Frank said. 

You snapped to your senses and started to rise for one last desperate escape attempt, but Frank was faster. You felt the blow of his palm against your cheek before you even saw it coming. You fell to the ground, face throbbing. You wanted to scream, or cry, or swing back at him, but you were completely numb from the shock. You couldn’t feel anything but the sting on your skin.

“Do not resist me again, Y/N,” Frank warned. 

With that, he walked out of your room, and you heard him turn the lock. You were trapped. You curled into a ball on your floor and wept quietly. 

***

Gwilym was relieved when the door finally opened. This was the last house of the day. He saw a man there, whose smile was...unconvincing to say the least. He bowed. 

“We are happy to see you, Prince Gwilym,” he said. “I am Frank Tarleton, and I believe one of my daughters is the girl you’re searching for.”

Gwilym raised a brow. “But you don’t know which?”

Frank blinked, taken aback, and then laughed an empty sort of laugh. “Good one, your highness. Please, come in.”

Gwilym looked at Ben and Rami who both shrugged. They followed Frank inside and into the drawing room, where two young women sat on the couch, looking nervous. Ben explained everything, with Frank nodding eagerly along. Something about the man struck Gwilym as slimy. He was too polite, too eager to please, and it seemed even his own daughters were made uncomfortable by him. Gwilym sighed. 

“Let’s get this over with,” he mumbled. 

He was beginning to lose hope. Who was left, if not these girls? And yet, neither of them struck him as the one he was looking for.

***

You listened carefully at your door, not daring to make any more noise. If Frank returned, he might do worse than strike you. But you could listen to what was happening downstairs. 

It was a bit maddening to hear, though. To be so close to Gwilym now, and yet so far. To be a prisoner now in your own home was worse than being a servant. And the worst part was seeing the proof of your identity lying in pieces beside you. You felt like the slipper. Broken. Completely in pieces. Like your dreams too. 

You heard the front door open and close again. You went to your window and watched Gwilym mount his horse, his friends on either side of him, and trot away toward town. Was that truly the last time you would see your love?

It couldn’t be. Now, you could hear Frank’s familiar footsteps coming back up the stairs. You knew you had to make a break for it as soon as he opened the door. You braced yourself. You had no time to pack anything, no time to grab money or valuables. You would have to break away with nothing but the clothes on your back and a prayer. 

You watched the doorknob turn, feeling as if everything was in slow motion. It creaked slowly open and Frank’s body appeared in the door frame. He reached for you, but you ducked under his arm, darted down the hall, flew down the stairs, and straight out the front door. 

You ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even daring to look back to see if Frank was in pursuit. You just hurtled toward town, hoping that anyone could help you. You would give up your home, and everything you knew - you would even give up your life - before marrying Frank. You had to escape, even if it meant becoming a beggar. 

You burst through the back door of the tavern, tears streaming down your cheeks, and chest heaving. Flying through the kitchen, you threw open the doors to the dining area and found Zelda behind the bar. She looked up at the commotion you were making, took in the sight of you, and her brow furrowed. 

“Zelda, please!” you cried, frantic. “I need help!”

You went to her, and she took you in her arms. 

“Y/N, what’s -”

She didn’t get to finish her question before Frank came barreling through. He must not have been far behind. You let out a scream. Zelda pushed you behind her and you cowered at her back. She put her arms out to shield you further. 

“Zelda, remove yourself if you know what’s good for you,” Frank threatened. 

“Don’t, Zelda, please!” you begged. “Don’t let him take me! He’s going to force me to marry him! Please!”

She stiffened in front of you. “Oh, no you don’t, Frank. I will not stand by and let you do this.”

“Stand back or you’re fired,” he warned. 

“I don’t care,” she shot back. “I won’t let you have her!”

“I’m afraid it’s not up to you,” he returned harshly. 

He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to move her, but Zelda was a stout woman with considerable strength. She resisted him, taking hold of his biceps and forcing him back several steps. Her advantage was clearly gained by the element of surprise. 

“Run, Y/N!” she cried. “Get out of here!” 

Panicked, you leapt over the counter and wrenched the door open. You threw yourself out of it, trying to ignore the sounds of the struggle behind you. You darted into the street and sprinted as fast as you could away from the tavern. You had no idea where you would go from here - but you could not stay and be forced into a lifetime of Frank. 

You glanced back. To your horror, you saw that Frank was emerging from the tavern and had spotted you right away. With a gasp, you turned back around and sped up. Only, as you turned, you didn’t realize what was in front of you. You ran right smack into a man’s back. The force of the collision put you on your rear in the dirt. 

Wincing, you looked up. Your jaw dropped. It was Gwilym!

He met your gaze and froze as well. For a moment, you were both back at the ball, when he’d come up to you on the stairs and asked you to dance. He recognized you instantly. 

“It’s you,” he whispered. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but a sudden stinging on your scalp caused you to cry out instead. Frank had fisted his hand around your hair and dragged you to your feet. 

“Your highness!” he gasped, noticing Gwilym. “I do apologize. My servant here has forgotten her manners.” He looked at you and continued through gritted teeth. “And her place.”

He yanked your hair on the last word for extra emphasis. Gwilym’s chest tightened as he watched Frank manhandle you. He briefly imagined himself drawing his sword and plunging it right into Frank’s chest, but he refrained. 

“Release her,” he ordered. 

Frank looked at the prince, bewildered. 

“I’m sorry?” he questioned.

Gwilym’s expression darkened. “I told you to release her.”

Frank hesitated. 

“Now!” Gwilym shouted. 

You relaxed when Frank finally let go. Your scalp still itched with soreness. You desperately wanted to throw yourself into Gwilym’s arms but you were still afraid of what Frank might do. You did take a cautious step back. 

“Your highness, I’m dealing with an unruly servant girl,” Frank said. “But she is mine and I may do with her as I please.”

Your lip trembled and you shook your head. 

“That’s not true,” you sobbed. “You know it’s not, I’m your step daughter and you’re forcing me to -”

“SILENCE!” Frank roared, and raised his hand.

You shrieked and covered your face with your arms. But the blow didn’t come. You peeked out, lowering your shield just barely. Gwilym had taken hold of Frank’s wrist. Rami and Ben, who you just noticed being present, both had their hands on their swords. Now was your chance. 

“Don’t let him take me back,” you begged again. “Please, your highness, don’t let him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zelda trotting up the street. She halted when she took in the scene before her. 

“Sir Tarleton,” Gwilym said, releasing Frank’s arm. “We were at your home and I asked you if you had any more women residing there besides your daughters. You lied.”

“It wasn’t a lie, really,” Frank argued. “Just an omission. You see, there’s no way this girl was at the ball when I forbid her from going.”

“If that’s true, then you are still in trouble,” Gwilym said. “All eligible maidens were to attend.”

“She’s only a servant -”

“I know you’re lying, Tarleton,” Gwilym interrupted. “Now stand down.”

Frank stepped away from the prince, shooting glances between him and you. Gwilym turned to Ben.

“The slipper please, Ben,” he said. 

“No!” Frank protested, starting toward you, but Rami stopped him.

Ben handed Gwilym the slipped you’d left behind on the staircase. You wiped your cheeks, clearing away the dirt and tears, and held your prince’s gaze. You smiled at him.

“I knew you were the girl from the tavern,” he said gently. “I knew I recognized you.”

“And the cemetery,” you reminded him.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I remember.”

“How did someone like you even notice someone like me?” you wondered, amazed. 

“Because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he told you simply. “Inside and out. And from that moment in the cemetery I saw what you truly are - a princess.”

You flushed, looking bashfully at the ground. 

“I’m not really a -”

“Maybe not by birth,” he said. “But in heart.”

You met his eyes again. Those eyes that from the first time you saw them, told you the kindness of this man’s soul. 

He knelt down onto one knee, holding out the slipper. It made you ache for the lost one Frank smashed, but you were relieved that you had left one behind at the palace. You toed off your boot and raised your leg. Ben stepped closer to help you balance and you shot him a grateful look. Then, you slid your delicate foot into the glass slipper. It fit perfectly. 

Gwilym’s face lit up like a firework. Ben let go of your hand as Gwilym laughed, took you up in his arms and spun you around. You giggled with joy as well. He lowered you gently to the ground.

“Now, will you please tell me your name?” he asked. 

You chuckled. “It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N,” he repeated, and cupped your cheek in his palm. “How beautiful.”

“No!” Frank shouted again, and this time Rami had to grab him to stop him. “No! You cannot take her from me!”

“The girl does not belong to you,” Gwilym said sternly. He turned and faced Frank. “I see very clearly now that you have been mistreating her. She is free to choose whatever she likes.”

“I’m her father!” Frank insisted. 

“Step father,” you said. Then you looked up at Gwilym. “I choose you, my love.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. “Sir Tarleton, you’ll be taken into custody.”

Frank’s eyes went wide as the guards moved to take him from Rami. They clapped iron rings around his wrists. He seemed too shocked to struggle. 

“Take him to the dungeon to await trial for his crimes,” Gwilym instructed. He faced you again. “And you, my darling, may come with me to the palace.”

“For how long?” you wondered. 

“Forever, if you wish it,” he assured you. 

“I could hardly wish for more,” you said happily. 

He took your hand and helped you onto his horse. Together, you headed for safety, and building a life together. In true love.

***

You and Gwilym married as soon as possible. The whole kingdom was thrilled at the wedding. Frank was tried and convicted for his abuse, but would not serve a life sentence, so instead of prison, he was banished from the kingdom. Even so, early in your marriage to Gwilym, you frequently had nightmares where your stepfather returned. 

Gwilym was as loving and patient a partner as you could hope for. He let you talk through your trauma, and he made sure to never do anything that caused you fear. His support helped you to truly heal. 

Your step sisters had to move from the estate, which was now yours entirely. Eleanor and Miranda were surprisingly happy to take over their father’s first business, the tavern, which they ran successfully with Zelda. They both eventually found merchant husbands and lived peacefully, and you were genuinely happy for them.  

But the greatest joy Gwilym ever gave you was your children. You had two boys and two girls, and they were the light of the whole kingdom’s eye - but especially the king, who lived a long and healthy life with his grandchildren. You had no other description for your life besides happily ever after.

[reipinto]

any art advice for people who struggle with perfectionism

That’s kind of a hard thing to give advice for because each person is different.

I can tell you what worked for me: - I started leaving more art works as just sketches without pressuring myself to finish them, - if i didnt like something i drew, instead of deleteing it i just saved it (didnt post) and then moved on to get the pressure of “can only draw if im gonna post it” off my back -drew more with pen and also started just coloring on top of sketch layer - about the sketch layer thing, i just kinda gave up on inking bc it frustrated me, nowdays i go straight to sketching then painting -i had friends i’d show my art to and we were both artists and we’d uplift eachother and talk about how hard being an artist is. venting about your worries and having someone confort you is a nice thing to have - this one is a bit stupid but: i started drawing on mspaint. For a full year i only drew on mspaint. The sheer fact that the program is “shitty” means that nobody expects anything grand to come from it, not even myself. It gave me an euphoric freedom i thought i had lost when it comes to drawing. It made me look at “shitty art” and feel proud of it because given the program limitations? that was an increible piece! -i took breaks. i took so many breaks. im not saying “2 or 4 days break from drawing” im saying months. My longest break from drawing was around 3 years. Sometimes the mental state you are in is just not good for drawing, and trying to force yourself to draw through it will just stress yourself more. I promise taking breaks is healthy and you WONT forget what you already knew. - make yourself some side blogs for niche interests you have, where you can post your art without worrying about it making it big. “Oh i usually post in [insert fandom here] but im feeling exhausted and only drew pictures of my silly minecraft sona.... i dont want to post it on my main though”  that’s ok buddy, trying to POST something is already progress, trust me, i used to post maybe 3% of what i drew and deleted like 90% of what i drew. Saving your art, or posting it, is already a nice way to go against perfectionism (for me, it worked for me)

- i started looking for more artists that drew messy, that posted mostly sketches and unfinished pictures, this way my media consumption wasnt 100% finished pictures fully rendered and what not, controlling what i saw online and finding others who like me, didnt spend much time on pieces, made the community feel more like a community and less of a race

- draw what you love, share with your friends. Your friends DO like your art, they DO think it is pretty, No , they are not lying to you just because you are friends. No, you’re not bothering them by shwing your art. Learn to accept their compliments, a “thank you!” instead of “really? i didnt think it was that pretty....” goes a long way on helping yourself accept that people enjoy your work

i can’t think of any more stuff at the moment but i hope this helps?

[thegeminisage]

wait why do you hate grrm

because he’s a stupid whiny little BITCH

a long time ago (17.5 years as a matter of fact) when i first started writing fanfic in the year of our lord 2003 i started on fanfiction dot net and on fanfiction dot net there was a list of fandoms u ABSOLUTELY could not post fic for because the authors didnt care for fanfiction and they would take legal action. grrm was on that list. i hated every single of them with murder in my small 14yo heart because HOWWW can u hate fanfiction? it’s the ultimate act of love! people enthusiastic enough to write fic are also the ones writing your paychecks!

anyway, fast forward several hundred years, he doubles down on hating fic writers and implying theyre lazy uncreative etc and writing fanfic is the thing i love to do the most so i ALREADY hated his ass. AND THEN we get this gem where hes like...oh... 👉👈 i did three whole chapters in six months...that was a really good six months for me...

this stupid unemployed HO. has people DYING for his next installment. is making more money than GOD. goes and SPEAKS AT CONVENTIONS? and a REALLY GOOD SIX MONTHS is im sorry THREE CHAPTERS? PEOPLE ARE GIVING HIM MONEY

meanwhile, your average fanfic writer, including me, can churn out a whole 100k novel in half that time. my daily minimum usually sits around 1k. probably my fastest was an entire 55k piece start to finish and SELF EDITED in a month. ONE MONTH. VERSUS. SIX MONTHS. FOR THREE CHAPTERS. i have a JOB (sometimes) and like 1000 untreated mental illnesses and i can and frequently do match mr king’s pace. (six pages a day is about 1200 words - easy peasy.) i have matched it when i was suicidal and had family members in hospice and all kinds of other horrible shit. meanwhile one of the most successful, privileged, rich authors in the WORLD spends all day wallowing in insecurity rather than just sitting the fuck down and doing the fucking work? 

and this would be a bad enough look for him without shitting on fanfic writers all the time but like holy shit. dude says fanfic writers don’t have any creativity but at least we have discipline?? hello?? i’m not saying there aren’t an awful lot of bad fanfics or that all fanfic writers should aspire to write 1200 words a day bc it’s just for fun but at LEEEEAST my ass isn’t out here celebrating three fucking chapters over six months. what does he do all day? with all that time? what are people paying him for? finish your damn book*, moron!

*to be clear, i don’t actually care for my own sake whether or not he finishes his stupid book. i swore in 2003 i would never read a single word of grrm’s work and everything i know about game of thrones i have learned entirely against my fucking will. this is an anti-got blog